Not easy to find this review today, but it did run. The show is excellent and both a lot of fun and rather disturbing. I spend much of my review on the morality and the ethics of embracing destruction as actual artistic praxis, but there’s a lot more to the show than that. This YouTube clip shows an installation view (from another exhibition) of Pipilotti Rist’s deliciously subversive video, “Ever is Over All.” Fast forward to the 45-second mark to get a sense of the video as you’ll see it at the Hirshhorn. In a way, this work undermines much of what I say in my piece, showing destruction without moral significance, just pure fun and sexy, as if the Nike of Samothrace went out for a walk on the wild side–and who would dare to stop her? Not any old policewoman.
Last week I wrote a short piece about a carpet known as the Armenian Orphan Rug, woven by orphan refugees of the Armenian genocide, given to President Calvin Coolidge, and now too hot politically to be taken out of storage. The White House responded to my request for comment with the usual non-comment statement that answers and explains nothing. The World picked up the story and chatted with me on the Friday program.
I’ve also reviewed a couple of shows, the Byzantine art exhibition at the National Gallery (many beautiful things) and the Latino Art exhibition at the Smithsonian American Art Museum (also many beautiful things, but a poorly conceived show).
Two recent Washington Post pieces were somewhat hard to find on the website, so I post them here. One deals with the controversy in Detroit over the possibility that the Detroit Institute of Arts may have to sell paintings as part of the city’s larger bankruptcy crisis. I think this is disastrous, but not unexpected given larger cultural trends. Thus:
This is about dismantling the public commons: There are things we hold in trust for the common good, places and institutions such as libraries, museums and public parks that are meant to be held, enjoyed and passed on to future generations without regard to their monetary value, immediate cost or other inconveniences presented by their maintenance.It is about the fraying and ultimate destruction of a social contract built on the robber-baron philanthropy of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the progressive movements that championed education and political reform in the last century and the ideals of equal access that emerged in the civil rights struggles since the 1950s. If you believe there is nothing more to the social contract than the inalienable right of all men to thrive or perish in the market, then museums are an obnoxious example of irrational collectivist thinking.
And then there was a review of a new MOMA show devoted to Magritte. Nugget:
On a purely visual level, Magritte’s art still appeals today because it is spare, clean, and mostly empty. His people may be ciphers, living in apocalyptically empty rooms, but today empty is looking pretty inviting. The clean, precise lines of architectural modernism haunt even the most old-fashioned of his interior spaces, and while many of them are stage settings for dark and disturbing messages, they remain strangely appealing places.Magritte’s paintings also do one, limited kind of artistic work very well. They begin one place, then take you to another, with a satisfying sense of unraveling or unlocking the meaning. They reduce artistic looking to an almost addictive level, with a clear and rewarding payoff for a small amount of study.
This piece is too heavily indebted to Susan Sontag, but then it’s almost impossible when you write about photography and atrocity not to end up parroting Sontag. No matter how far you think you’ve moved your argument away from the lucid clarity of Sontag’s observations, you end up right back at the beginning, with the alpha and omega of Sontag’s On Photography and Regarding the Pain of Others. I thought of writing the piece in the first person, so I could say one thing: That never have we so desperately needed the clarity of Sontag’s thought as now. Because, as I argue in today’s Outlook section:
We have arrived at a double crisis: a dissolution of agreement about what is civilized behavior and a dissolution of faith in the meaning of images — a crisis of politics and a crisis of representation. Given how closely photography and video have been linked to defining those international norms, this is a frightening moment.
This is not a piece about going to war in Syria.
This piece, a much expanded version of what I wrote on the blog a few days ago, got lost in the holiday shuffle. My subject is the so called “gay propaganda” law, recently passed in Russia, that criminalizes any positive (and perhaps neutral) mention of homosexuality, and how protests against the law may play out in the cultural realm. So far, the attention has focused mostly on Sochi, host of the 2014 Winter Olympics. Will gay athletes and visitors be safe? Will anything so small as a rainbow lapel pin be subject to the force of this ugly and dangerous proscription? But there is already a developing cultural aspect to the protests as well, including a fascinating but somewhat ill-directed petition to asking the Metropolitan Opera to dedicate its opening night performance of Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin to “LGTB rights.”
I don’t start there, but with the character of Monsieur Triquet, one of my favorite, though also one of the saddest in Tchaikovsky’s setting of Pushkin’s novel in verse. I think it’s clear that Triquet is a closeted gay man. And I think it’s all too clear that the closet is being reinvented, and re-purposed, for new forms of oppression. Here’s a sample:
Much of the world is finally beginning to notice the cultural and historical abundance of Triquets, the closeted characters, the unmarried aunts and uncles, the flamboyant men who never talked of sex, allowing their voices, warped and corrupted by homophobia, to be heard at last with sympathy. But Triquet is also a model for how advocates of a new, reorganized, homophobia would like gay people to live: Allowed into the party on condition of self-denial, alienated from their nature, singing someone else’s heterosexual verses. What’s old is new, and whether it’s Putin’s Russia or the Catholic Church taking aim at teachers who enter into same-sex marriages, Triquet reminds us that the closet that gay people left over the past half-century is being repurposed, refitted to the job of oppression, by laws such as the one being protested so widely today.
So much of social media is about recommendations and suggestions: You need to hear/read/see this. We eagerly offer and receive them. Yet in the cultural arena it’s seen as high-handed, even an act of snobbery, to say: You need to hear/read/see this. Why? Lingering resentment over the hurt caused by genuine cultural snobbery a half century ago? Reflexive resistance to any thing that smacks of cultural authority? Simply a matter of tone? Something I’m missing? It’s curious to me that all orchestra programs aren’t structured around a basic suggestion, the conductor and musicians saying: You must listen to this.