Art-world trend watch: Could this be the end of the wall labels?

Program from NYC Makers: The MAD Biennial

Let me start by saying that one of the things I like most about museums is the thoroughness of curators when it comes to labeling the art on view.  Commercial galleries frequently don’t label works by leading artists.  Instead, you have to ask for “The Book.”  Even a fearless art fan like myself is sometimes too intimidated by some of the more lofty galleries.  Plus, as someone who likes to take pictures of the art I see and write about it later, snapping a quick picture of the wall label means you have valuable information that can be used when posting photos later on.

So imagine my concern when I arrived at the Museum of Arts and Design (MAD) to see NYC Makers: The MAD Biennial and there were no wall labels! Instead we were given “programs,” as if the museum’s jealously of all those Broadway Playbills had just become too much to take. I still would have preferred wall labels, but I was willing to try out this new idea of a museum program.  Unfortunately the diagrams in said program were quite confusing and some of the listings were obviously blatantly wrong.  It made for a fairly confusing experience.

A confusing diagram from the MAD program.

One woman with a classic New York accent was so flummoxed she confronted the gallery attendant and pleaded for help.  The gallery attendant was startlingly clueless.  After loudly complaining to her friend, she approached me saying, “You seem to know what you’re doing.”  I showed her how the diagrams worked and helped her figure out where she was in the exhibit and after thanking me, she wandered off, stepped up on a low platform holding a bass drum turned into art and began tapping on it. This got the gallery attendant’s attention, who scrambled to remind the woman not to touch the art.

I left MAD not particularly concerned about this development.  But just a few days later I wandered into the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) and headed for the exhibit Alibis: Sigmar Polke 1963 – 2010.  And guess what? No wall labels! Instead there were pedestals filled with “programs.”

Program fro MoMA

Both the MAD and MoMA programs shared some similarities: printed with black ink only on cheap, newsprint-like paper; approximately the same size, similar to a Parade magazine; filled with diagrams of all the galleries with numbers that corresponded to the art listings.  Where they differed is in user-friendliness.  The MoMA program was much clearer and easier to follow.

If all this isn’t alarming enough, just a few days ago, I was making my daily review of stories on Bloun Artinfo and came across this story.  In it, Scott Indrisek talks about attending the press day for MoMA’s upcoming Christopher Williams show, The Production Line of Happiness.  According to Indrisek, “. . . for some critics in attendance, the truly hot-button issue seemed to be the exhibition’s lack of wall labels.”  At this point, one can only wonder if this rampant use of “programs” at museums might somehow signal the end of the wall label.

A charming detail from the MoMA program.

Now I’ll admit that for the Sigmar Polke exhibit, not having wall labels made for a more visually appealing experience.  Polke’s work is experimental and varies widely in style and mediums.  Eliminating the wall cards helped simplify a somewhat  chaotic affair. And while I couldn’t snap pictures of wall labels at either of the shows, I did walk away with a complete list of every work in each show. Plus the program included more information than you might get on wall labels. That was nice when I was writing about the exhibits later. 

But don’t think I’m supporting this new trend. I like my wall labels.  And so I beseech art fans everywhere, join the cause.  “Wall Labels for the People!”

Life under glass.

My latest creative project has me returning to an acitivity I last dabbled in sometime in the 1970s.  Yes, even as a teen I expressed my fondness for all things tree-hugging with the creation of a terraium.  That plant-filled glass jar was a large, cork-stoppered blob that leaned decidedly toward "hippy."  It's a fond memory.

There's also a current art-world fascination with terrariums, the most high-profile of which are the recent alien-like terrariums created by artist Paula Hayes which were commissioned by MoMA for temporary placement in the lobby of the museum.  The installation, titled Nocturne of the Limax Maximus, featured two works: Slug and Egg. Here's an installation view:

Here's a detail of Slug:

And Here's a detail of Egg:

Hayes' terrariums with their hand-blown containers are spectacular.  You can see more at her Web site.

I don't have access to the amazing hand-blown containers found in Hayes' work.  But between her MoMA installation, my teenage nostalgia, and a few other terrarium trends I've seen here and there, I decided to try my hand at creating miniature worlds trapped in glass.  To add to the fun, I'm giving all my terrariums titles designed to compete for weirdness with the titles of Damien Hirst's works.   Here then, are a few of my first attempts at terrariums as art.

I call this Life in the Mind of Death:

This terrerium is titled The Nature of Infidelity:

Here is Exisiting in a Non-Existent Place:

Although Felix has named this plant "Chompers," the actual title of the work is Stealing Life from Loss and Sadness:

And here is The Universe as Seen from Heaven:

Finally, I'll leave you with an installation view from my dining room:

These first few worlds have been so much fun to make that I'm just getting starting.  So expect to see more terrariums in future posts.

Abstract iPadexpressionism.

As an iPad owner, I haven't been that impressed with the device.  I also haven't been afraid to voice my complaints.  Sure the touch interface is amazing.  But it takes more than that to win me over.  And there's plenty wanting when it comes to the iPad. I mean really, I couldn't even turn the thing on when I first got it because my iMac isn't new enough.  I had to borrow a friends computer to get it running. And just try to post to Blogger from your iPad. It's impossible unless you know HTML.  HTML!?!  Why don't you just ask me to code my blog in DOS?


All that said, there are a few things that are starting to make me appreciate the iPad, and most of those things are the apps. It's proof that when you give a so-so product to a bunch of inventive techno wizards, you get some really amazing results.  A couple of my favorites include the Glee app and the Scrabble app.  But the app that has me all abuzz is the Museum of Modern Art's (MoMA) new app developed in conjunction with it's current exhibit, Abstract Expressionist New York (Ab Ex NY). The app is free and you can download it here.

Now  I'm not the biggest fan of Abstract Expressionism but I'd love to see this show which boasts some of the best artists from the middle of last century. Unfortunately, I may not make it to NYC before this show closes on April 25, 2011.  That's why I want to say thanks to the curators at MoMA for offering such a great way to experience the show digitally.  The Ab Ex NY app let's you browse the show.  When you select a specific work, you can get more info about the artist and the painting or sculpture.  Plus, you can zoom into the high-res photos and get a decent idea of what the paint looks like on the canvas; or the texture of the finish on sculptures. It's still not like seeing the real thing, but it's a lot better than any other reproduced format I've experienced.

Plus there are plenty of other goodies.  You can watch engaging videos about the artists and their works.  There's a great interactive map of New York City that relates the exhibit to the city itself, showing you where the artists lived and worked or where you can see other works by the artists featured in the exhibit.  You can even shop for Ab Ex NY art books and merchandise directly from the app.

Beatifully art directed and ingeniously organized, I give MoMA's Ab Ex NY app a big thumbs up.  And I hope other museums will take a cue from thismake it possible to enjoy other exhibits