Today, my professor for the W&M in Washington Program asked us to write a short reflection on any "disappointment, despair, or dilemma" that we have had thus far at our internships. I couldn't really come up with one real instance, as I haven't come across anything that awful over the past 3 weeks. Therefore, I wrote this reflection on how a lack of context before launching into a completely novel experience can leave one feeling quite lost and frustrated. So, here it is-- the supposedly "darker" shades of my time at the Hirshhorn Museum.
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So far during my internship at the Hirshhorn Museum, working in the Marketing and Communications Department, I have encountered fairly minimal amounts of disappointment or despair. Actually, I feel incredibly blessed to work with such a supportive staff and a supervisor who is genuinely appreciative and thankful for the work that I do on a daily basis. Upon starting at the Hirshhorn, everyone I met was kind, generous, and engaged me in conversation. I would walk down the hallways to fetch computer printouts, make copies, or fix a new cup of tea, and I would have two or three conversations with other staff members. They all made me feel like a major part of the team—that I was just as important of an asset, as an intern, as I could be. It has made the past few weeks a joy. I look forward to waking up in the morning and going to work, because I know that I will be expanding my sphere of knowledge, professionalism, and work ethic.
As is the case with many things that we love, there are parts of the experience that are less than desirable and pleasant. For me, it’s a bit more of a general feeling rather than any specific citable experiences of immense disappointment that lead me to some incredible frustration. I threw myself into a world about which I knew very little. I decided to bypass my sensibility and prudence and choose an internship that would push me and make me really become responsible for learning on my own, without the guidance and structure of college courses. Instead of choose an internship working with curatorial departments at the Freer Gallery, Phillips Collection, or National Museum of Women in the Arts, I chose the Hirshhorn because I would be working in a department I knew very little about (Marketing), and I did not recognize one piece of artwork in the entire collection.
To go into a space as hallowed and respected as a Smithsonian Institute’s museum and not know anything about the history of the space, the material, or the collection is incredibly daunting. Unlike the National Museum of the American Indian, where one could pull open childhood reminisces of The Indian and the Cupboard, old movies, or American History lessons, or the Air and Space Museum, where one could remember the footage of the first moon walk, stories of the Wright Brothers in the Outer Banks, or the tragic disappearance of Amelia Earhart, the Hirshhorn does not lend a vernacular common with the majority of Americans. It showcases pieces from the international art community of the past hundred years, and it focuses on the oft controversial, compelling, challenging, brooding, complex, and at times opaque pieces of modern and contemporary art. While I knew nothing of esteemed artists as Alexander Calder, Dan Flavin, Wolfgang Tillmans, John Baldessari, Chryssa, Hiroshi Sugimoto, Pae White, or Virgil Marti, I knew that I wanted to get to know them.
I remember reading about the Hirshhorn Museum on Wikipedia and coming across a striking quote by former Secretary of the Smithsonian Institute S. Dillon Ripley. In discussion of the Museum’s architecture, he wrote, "If it were not controversial in almost every way it would hardly qualify as a place to house contemporary art. For it must somehow be symbolic of the material it is designed to encase." He references the circular nature of the Hirshhorn’s physicality, which is arresting in its 1970s inspired starkness and minimalism. It was this quote that drew me into the Hirshhorn—the more I read about it, the more it began to encompass much of what I was seeking in an institution and an internship position—a chance to use ordinary mediums to challenge conventions and stereotypes.
However, this is so much easier said than done. I go to work every day for eight or nine hours, completing tasks such as scanning of press clips, photocopying critical current essays, magazine texts and newspaper reviews, completion of various Excel tables, calculating attendance figures for exhibitions, writing formal letters to members of the press, preparing press releases, editing pieces of writing, collating reports, organizing the office, and running various errands. How am I challenging contemporary social conventions through this work? Wasn’t my goal, my scope, for this internship to be able to be a part of a sea change? Yes. And in a way, I am working towards and for that. I’m representing an institution that brings experimental and significant characters like Matthew Barney, Wolfgang Tillmans, and Noguchi to the American public. I’m helping distribute a product that helps defy tradition and works to expand one’s worldview and concepts regarding art. But this frustration of being caught up in the logistics is my biggest challenge at the Hirshhorn Museum. I have yet to come into contact with any staff member with whom I butt heads, any supervisor or boss hasn’t yelled me at, and I haven’t felt belittled, insignificant, or worthless. On the contrary, I have been brought into a close-knit family that truly values the contributions I make on a daily basis. But, every night I come home, open up the two or three magazines, like Harper’s Bazaar, Vogue, ARTnews, Art in America, Wallpaper, Elle, Interior Design, The Washingtonian, the New Yorker, or Artforum, which have been assigned to me by my supervisor to keep a keen pulse on the contemporary fashion and art world, and I can’t help feeling lost. I’m lost because I am trying to cram so much information on trends, threads of style and form, and definitions that I am losing sight of my mission. I’m learning that Matthew Barney and Joseph Beuys share many of the same defining artistic characteristics of overt theatricality and anti-minimalism. I expanding at an increasing rate, and yet I can’t help but feel at times that I’m losing my vision and sense of direction. But, I think that this is all part of the experience of getting to know something so utterly foreign as modern and contemporary art is to my world. I cannot expect to show up every day and understand perfectly why we are showing a comprehensive collection of Wolfgang Tillmans’ photography, or the reasons why the Visual Music exhibition from two years ago was such a complete success in the art world. I’m still completely in the beginner stage, but I cannot help but feel lost and frustrated at times because of my lack of familiarity with the space around me everyday.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Kennedy Center Reflections
Work at the Hirshhorn is progressing along quite well. I’ve been involved in some wonderful projects, some a bit less glamorous and then some that have found me continuing to learn my way around this place. This week, we open a new exhibition: “Refract, Reflect, Project: Light Works from the Collection.” Here’s a little bit more about the exhibition:
Throughout the history of art, light has been linked to fundamental questions of vision and perception. Refract, Reflect, Project: Light Works from the Collection explores objects in which light—as substance and subject—is central. Encompassing important practices and movements from the latter half of the twentieth century to the present, these works include examples of Minimalism, kinetic art, immersive environments, experimental film, and conceptual art. Among the artists featured are Giovanni Anselmo, Chryssa, Dan Flavin, Joseph Kosuth, James Turrell, and Thomas Wilfred. The exhibition also will highlight recent acquisitions by such artists as Olafur Eliasson, Spencer Finch, Christoph Girardet, and Iván Navarro. This exhibition is organized by associate curator Anne Ellegood.
In other news, on Friday, February 9, our class met to venture to the Kennedy Center for a day-long visit. We met with three representatives, from Education, Development, and Event Planning, as well as enjoyed a tour and a free performance at the Millenium Stage. For this class, I was asked to write a reflection on my experience at the Kennedy Center, and I have enclosed it below:
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Friday’s visit to the Kennedy Center was my first time at the hallowed institution honoring John F. Kennedy’s dedication to the arts in Washington, DC. As Ramien Pierre explicated, the Kennedy Center, is a “living memorial.” It doesn’t differ too much from other notable Washington, DC memorials, in that it is honed of exquisite marble, designed with sensitive yet epic architecture and vision, and executed in a style showing a strict dedication to proportion, balance and harmony, but the Kennedy Center has an additional sphere that is absent from many memorials: it lives fiercely in the present and future tenses. While it serves to represent the legacy of our 35th President of the United States of America, it also works to serve the local and global communities by providing innovative, thoughtful, and beautiful performing arts programs. The Kennedy Center is a forum for forward thinking art lovers, up and coming artists, established and well known dance/theatre/singing/musical companies, donors, and new patrons to experience the performing arts and to revel in their transformative powers.
The history of the Kennedy Center is quite illustrious and interesting in light of the current administration’s policies regarding the arts in America. The idea of the institution was signed into law by Dwight D. Eisenhower in 1958 under the title of The National Cultural Center. It was the first time in United States history that the federal government financially espoused the genesis and construction of a building wholly devoted to the performing arts. In much of the same way that Andrew Mellon envisioned and articulated the importance of an exceptional gallery of visual arts in order to bring the United States onto the “international stage,” the original proponents of the Kennedy Center understood the necessity for a space to house the performing arts in Washington, DC. Eisenhower was instrumental in legislatively realizing this project, but it wasn’t until after the assassination of John F. Kennedy that the development of the Center truly gained considerable momentum. Given a large sum of money (upwards of 86 million dollars) with which to cover construction, annual running costs, bonds, and a formal starting grant, the Kennedy Center began with large governmental support, but also ardently sought private donations from the likes of the Kennedy family, Marjorie Merriweather Post, and John D. Rockefeller 3rd. It is important to note the relationship of the Kennedy Center to the United States government—the Center is made up of a private/public partnership that involves the government and the private donors, trustees, and members of the Kennedy Center. While the government funds the annual running costs of the institution, the programs and events are all covered by private funding, gifts, corporate sponsorship, ticket sales, and merchandise revenue.
While it is certainly generous that the government funds the necessary running costs, why doesn’t it give a heftier monetary figure to subsidize the arts at the Kennedy Center? Over the past thirty-six years, the Kennedy Center has defined its character based on artistic excellence and integrity, so why doesn’t the government provide the Center with a greater amount of funding? The Kennedy Center also embodies many educational ideals by providing a wide variety of outreach programs around the nation to infuse schools and communities with artistic conceptualization, presence, and appreciation. Isn’t this a venture that the government would want to support? To try and personally be as “fiercely bipartisan” as the Kennedy Center claims to be, I find no excuse for the minimal amount of funding that is given to the arts in Washington, DC and the rest of the nation. Often people will refer to the arts as merely entertainment, but after witnessing the inner workings, careful decision making, and advocacy that fuels the Kennedy Center, I can not even reconcile this claim of art acting solely for amusement. The Center houses some of the most accomplished, talented and skilled performers around the world—this is a dedication to complete excellence embodied in so many different forms. As Garth Ross indicated, the Kennedy Center attempts to bring together the best performers to complete the purpose of the Center’s mission—to provide excellence and relevance while appealing to the public and pushing them to expand their concept of the performing arts. While many performing arts venues would claim this mission as their own, the Kennedy Center is in a critical position, because they, in essence, represent the true intersection of the global and American performing arts spheres. The Kennedy Center houses all the flags of other countries with whom there has been exchange, contact, and a relationship—many diplomats, ambassadors, and foreign visitors come to the Kennedy Center to be in a space that promotes American arts culture while still presenting international ideas, trends, and ideals. The Kennedy Center must act with prudence, for it stands as a symbol for many as our interaction with other countries through the lens of the arts. So why doesn’t the government fund it more? Should the Kennedy Center have to rely on Target to financially subsidize the Millenium Stage and Performing Arts for Everyone ventures, which act to bring all different types of arts to the public, free of charge? Absolutely not.
The United States government should fund these programs, as they provide an excellent chance to engage in the globalization not only of public paradigm, but of the artistic and performing world today. These programs help enrich the local and international community and reflect highly on the United States and its supposed dedication to the arts. Although I advocate an increase in funding by the government, this should not coincide with an increase in governmental influence and opinion, for it is incredibly important that the arts be allowed to thrive without the censorship and suppression imposed by outside legislative forces. I applaud the private/public partnership in place at the Kennedy Center, and it certainly has proved that the director and staff can create some of the most intriguing, compelling and significant programs in the world; however, if the government were to pledge a larger grant, they couldn’t use that to gain clout and decision making status in the organization. It should simply be enough that the government allows the Kennedy Center reign to create its program, as it currently does. The Center is not going to go off to proverbial deep-end and only showcase experimental, risqué and controversial pieces. While these have the capacity to be good additions to any catalogue, the Center has a fantastic understanding of the pulse of its constituents and public support, and I doubt they would abandon this backing. They know what the people want, but they also try to expand the public’s awareness and sense of what they want.
Although the tour, graciously given by Catherine Russell, was informative in regards to the origins of the gifts to the Center and very basic background information, I was not really aware of the express mission of the Center until Garth Ross’ dialogue with our group. While Ramien Pierre addressed the necessity to garner private funding and corporate sponsorship, I still was not sure of what the Kennedy Center was really trying to do. Mr. Ross’ presentation allowed me an inside look at the decisions that form what the Kennedy Center looks like to an outsider—the program of events. This is provides breath into the Center. It allows it to be a true “living memorial.” I applaud Mr. Ross and his colleagues, such as distinguished president Michael Kaiser, who daily work to supply a collection of concerts, plays, and events that incorporate as many different perspectives, backgrounds, and voices as they can. The Kennedy Center is a very special place, because despite the pitiful lack of government funding for anything other than running costs, it continues to strive for the utmost excellence in artistic ability and integrity, while reaching out to a public, both local and international, that may or may not need to be reminded of the vital significance of the arts to the human condition.
Sunday, February 4, 2007
Week 1 Retrospective
Upon entering the fourth floor of the Hirshhorn Museum, home to all administrative offices, library, and conference rooms, I was met by five beautifully framed, spaced, and vivid images from Michael Barney’s most recent work, Drawing Restraint 9. Many know Barney as “Mr. Björk” for his relationship to the quirky Icelandic songstress (they have a daughter, Isadora, together), but within the art world, he is regarded as one of the most eminent and important artists of the past 20 years. Known for his experimental pieces that focus on intense imagery, thought-provoking subject matter, and expansive theatricality, Barney has created a following of teenage hipsters, aspiring college art students, twentysomething bohemians and modern art snobs. I made a remark to my supervisor in regards to the arresting photo stills on the wall, and she replied to tell me that I would have the special chance to attend an exclusive lecture Barney was giving on Wednesday. Disbelief, incredible anticipation and excitement met me in a rush as soon as I heard this—I, someone who knew him only peripherally from his film output (although, these are among his most critically acclaimed pieces) would have the astonishing chance to attend the Hirshhorn’s renowned Meet the Artist Matthew Barney lecture. This was only the beginning of a first day that I never expected and one that didn’t fail to overwhelm and excite me throughout the entire time.
We spent the first couple hours discussing logistics, impending projects, hours, and basically slowly helping me acclimate to the office. I received a whirlwind tour of everything behind the scenes at the Hirshhorn, from the copy room to the storage area for the majority of the Museum’s collection not on view. I met most of the small fifty person staff, and promptly forgot their names within minutes of meeting them. My supervisor, Gabriel, and I then headed off to lunch and spent the time discussing family history and views on the role of Marketing in the commercial world. I felt quite comfortable around Gabriel from the beginning—her enthusiasm and fervor was palpable, and I soon found myself feeding off of her energy.
Upon returning to the office, Gabriel whisked off to a meeting and I was left with my first job as an intern at the Hirshhorn Museum—I was sent off to familiarize myself with the Museum’s collection. Descending to the third floor, I exited the elevator and walked into a large, open room that housed Alexander Calder sculpture, structuralist paintings from the 1930’s, and cardstock relief art. To say I was overwhelmed with this first task is quite an understatement; rather, I had no idea where to begin. My tools at analyzing, understanding, and evaluating modern and contemporary art were incredibly dull and not very useful—instead, I was forced to rely on simply taking in the color schemes, textures, lines, artistic mechanisms, and all around general characteristics of each piece. Because I couldn’t yet really associate clout to too many names that I passed, I relied on how each piece made me feel. I had to rely on my visceral reaction to these works to begin building a relationship with the Museum’s collection. I did not yet know that Clyfford Still’s usage of texture, paint levels, and color was meant to respond to Nietzsche philosophy and thereby evoke a sense of primal symbolism. Even so, I was mesmerized by the sheer power and beauty of the collection.
One of the biggest tasks for this coming semester is going to be acquiring, building and understanding the contemporary art and aesthetic vernacular. Coming into this experience with little background in modern and contemporary works, everyday represents a new opportunity to learn a little bit more about art, current artists, exhibitions, art history, fashion, marketing, public sentiment, and human emotion. Part of my homework for my internship at the Hirshhorn has been reading art and fashion magazines, such as ARTnews, Art in America, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Interior Design, and the New Yorker. I’ve read pieces on the influx of floral prints in spring lines, upscale couture, gallery openings, reviews of recent exhibitions, the chic nature of certain types of handbags, the Iraqi War, medical ethics, Henry Moore sculpture, art policy, and Ian McEwan’s latest work of fiction. I’ve been asked to read Peter Plagen’s recent editorial on the lack of authentic art criticism in current mass media. I’ve poured over pages separated by Dior, Calvin Klein, Marc Jacobs and Valentino ads, rife with gorgeous photography, breathtaking models, and awe-inspiring fashion collections. I’m slowly developing my vocabulary, and I couldn’t be having more fun doing it.
I’ve certainly had my share of menial, low-level intern-quality jobs to do over the past week. I’ve become quite close to the copy machine, and I’m learning the intricacies of the phone system. I’m responsible for updating and maintaining the Hirshhorn’s MySpace page (http://www.myspace.com/hirshhornmuseum), and I enter in all the contact information from the cards signing people up for the Hirshhorn’s online newsletter. But these tasks do not seem as daunting and tedious because they are interspersed with events like the Matthew Barney lecture, gallery visits, art history research, reading books on upcoming exhibitions, talking to co-workers, or spending time listening to archived podcasts from previous lectures. I’ve thrown myself head first into the contemporary art world, and it is a thrilling place to be. Gabriel and I have a really massive and important presentation to give to the Board of Trustees on Tuesday, so tomorrow will be a 12 hour day, full of scanning images, cropping, rearranging, and finalizing a full-color, full text and bound 30-40 page formal book presentation of the past half-year’s press. I can’t believe that I’m already working on things of such import, but I am glad I can simply be of service. There is an energy at the Hirshhorn which is utterly infectious—I’ve never felt as compelled by art and its implications before, and I am invigorated by a desire to wake up in the morning and head off to work. I think it’s going to be a really wonderful semester.
We spent the first couple hours discussing logistics, impending projects, hours, and basically slowly helping me acclimate to the office. I received a whirlwind tour of everything behind the scenes at the Hirshhorn, from the copy room to the storage area for the majority of the Museum’s collection not on view. I met most of the small fifty person staff, and promptly forgot their names within minutes of meeting them. My supervisor, Gabriel, and I then headed off to lunch and spent the time discussing family history and views on the role of Marketing in the commercial world. I felt quite comfortable around Gabriel from the beginning—her enthusiasm and fervor was palpable, and I soon found myself feeding off of her energy.
Upon returning to the office, Gabriel whisked off to a meeting and I was left with my first job as an intern at the Hirshhorn Museum—I was sent off to familiarize myself with the Museum’s collection. Descending to the third floor, I exited the elevator and walked into a large, open room that housed Alexander Calder sculpture, structuralist paintings from the 1930’s, and cardstock relief art. To say I was overwhelmed with this first task is quite an understatement; rather, I had no idea where to begin. My tools at analyzing, understanding, and evaluating modern and contemporary art were incredibly dull and not very useful—instead, I was forced to rely on simply taking in the color schemes, textures, lines, artistic mechanisms, and all around general characteristics of each piece. Because I couldn’t yet really associate clout to too many names that I passed, I relied on how each piece made me feel. I had to rely on my visceral reaction to these works to begin building a relationship with the Museum’s collection. I did not yet know that Clyfford Still’s usage of texture, paint levels, and color was meant to respond to Nietzsche philosophy and thereby evoke a sense of primal symbolism. Even so, I was mesmerized by the sheer power and beauty of the collection.
One of the biggest tasks for this coming semester is going to be acquiring, building and understanding the contemporary art and aesthetic vernacular. Coming into this experience with little background in modern and contemporary works, everyday represents a new opportunity to learn a little bit more about art, current artists, exhibitions, art history, fashion, marketing, public sentiment, and human emotion. Part of my homework for my internship at the Hirshhorn has been reading art and fashion magazines, such as ARTnews, Art in America, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Interior Design, and the New Yorker. I’ve read pieces on the influx of floral prints in spring lines, upscale couture, gallery openings, reviews of recent exhibitions, the chic nature of certain types of handbags, the Iraqi War, medical ethics, Henry Moore sculpture, art policy, and Ian McEwan’s latest work of fiction. I’ve been asked to read Peter Plagen’s recent editorial on the lack of authentic art criticism in current mass media. I’ve poured over pages separated by Dior, Calvin Klein, Marc Jacobs and Valentino ads, rife with gorgeous photography, breathtaking models, and awe-inspiring fashion collections. I’m slowly developing my vocabulary, and I couldn’t be having more fun doing it.
I’ve certainly had my share of menial, low-level intern-quality jobs to do over the past week. I’ve become quite close to the copy machine, and I’m learning the intricacies of the phone system. I’m responsible for updating and maintaining the Hirshhorn’s MySpace page (http://www.myspace.com/hirshhornmuseum), and I enter in all the contact information from the cards signing people up for the Hirshhorn’s online newsletter. But these tasks do not seem as daunting and tedious because they are interspersed with events like the Matthew Barney lecture, gallery visits, art history research, reading books on upcoming exhibitions, talking to co-workers, or spending time listening to archived podcasts from previous lectures. I’ve thrown myself head first into the contemporary art world, and it is a thrilling place to be. Gabriel and I have a really massive and important presentation to give to the Board of Trustees on Tuesday, so tomorrow will be a 12 hour day, full of scanning images, cropping, rearranging, and finalizing a full-color, full text and bound 30-40 page formal book presentation of the past half-year’s press. I can’t believe that I’m already working on things of such import, but I am glad I can simply be of service. There is an energy at the Hirshhorn which is utterly infectious—I’ve never felt as compelled by art and its implications before, and I am invigorated by a desire to wake up in the morning and head off to work. I think it’s going to be a really wonderful semester.
Friday, February 2, 2007
Recap: Barney event, Michael Powell, and NGA
The Matthew Barney event was CRAZY. Sure, we all expected it to be a huge event, as many Meet The Artist talks are, but I really couldn't fathom the sheer immensity of public interest for the program. While I was running around doing things at 2.30 PM, people had already started to show up for the event, lining up in the lobby of the museum. By 5.00 we had about the same number of people in line as the amount of tickets that were available for the general public. However, ticket distribution wasn't planning to open until 5.45, so basically everyone who showed up past 5.00 was destined to walk away unhappy.
My job was to control the crowd outside of the museum from 5.00 until 6.30. I distributed information in regards to our simultaneous live Webcast of the event as a consolation to everyone who would not be granted entrance into the event. I also had to act as a medium between the museum administration and the general public, delineating the rules of the event and turning people away. To say I received opposition would be an understatement-- there were some incredibly pointed and harsh words that were said in that hour and a half. Unfortunately, and for obvious reasons, I had to be responsible for the Museum's role and regulations. While I completely sympathized for the girls who drove from Philadelphia and skipped class to see the event but got there too late, or the couple who have followed Barney's work throughout its evolution from the Cremaster Cycle to Drawing Restraint 9, or the group of young artists hoping for the chance to simply be in the same space as one of their idols, I had to mentally remove myself from the situation and present the facts. The problem with it is that you have to look at the person who flew in from CA as the same as the person who lives at Independence & 6th St SW, and I had a really hard time doing as such. But, one positive thing about the event was that my supervisor and other members of the Museum staff all were incredibly appreciative of my initiative and crowd control skills. I also really bonded with a few of the other employees over the event, so it was a good experience overall.
The event was based around a discussion had between Nancy Spector, curator of Contemporary Art at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, and Matthew Barney whose focus was specifically on the evolution of his work and the influence of experimental artist Joseph Beuys. Both artists have a strong sense of theatricality in their work. Beuys is known for a much more live public performance technique, while Barney is recognized for his highly intense and thought-provoking film and sculpture pieces. However, Barney is also known for his 2004 creation of a float for Carnivale in Salvador, Brazil with fellow artist Arto Lindsay. The title of the project was De Lama Lamina (Of Mud a Blade), which mirrored Beuys' dedication to public artistic performance. Also, Spector addressed a recent exhibition that paired works from Beuys and Barney next to each other, thereby imposing a connection to the observer. It really was a fairly fascinating talk; however, Barney's way of speech is very much like his film work-- long, drawn out, yet thoughtful. He is a soft-spoken artist, despite his commanding physicality and presence. Overall, it was an incredibly worthwhile experience, and I feel very blessed to have had the chance to be a part of it.
On a less intellectual note, I am now responsible for keeping up the Hirshhorn's MySpace page, so if any of you are interested / have MySpace, feel free to poke around the site and give any suggestions you may have. I am refreshing my mind in HTML coding, but it's slowly coming back to me. Its very methodical and takes a considerable amount of time, but I think the page looks fairly presentable now, so I am pleased.
The reception on Tuesday evening was one of those events in which one must put on a smile and face the crowd of people with whom you have no connection, except the fact that you're W&M alums. I mostly stuck with fellow W&M students, but we did have the chance to talk to some very interesting people. The most intriguing of these people was Michael Powell, the newly appointed Rector of the Board of Visitors for the College of William and Mary and son of Colin Powell. I also feel it is important to note that Powell is now the first African-American to serve in the role of Rector in the 313 year history of the position. Very exciting! President Gene Nichol spoke to my Freshman Seminar last year about his dedication to diversifying not only the student constituency but the Board of Visitors and faculty as well. It is nice to see this coming to fruition.
To say Michael Powell was a dynamic speaker and had a grasp on what he was saying would be a horribly understatement. He was incredibly approachable, kind, funny and interested in engaging us as students. We started off joking about the lack of nightlife in Williamsburg, but the discussion between he and five students and I soon went to the rights of digital distribution, his time at the FCC and his own feelings on entities such as YouTube, Google, mass media (the New York Times, LA Times, etc) and broadcast television. To paraphrase his position, he believes that we really are no different than our predecessors as a generation; rather, we communicate in different ways and have a new set of priorities and opportunities. It's no different talking on MySpace than talking on the phone for hours back in the 1970s, or in bars and saloons in the 1940s. The difference with media now, according to Powell, is that everything is being customized-- so you log onto Yahoo! and you want to have it be MyYahoo! or My_____. Basically, the average consumer in America now wants things tailored to specifically his or her interests. He made the point that many argue that we have diversified the media now and created a chance for opposing journalism and a forum for disagreements that effectually better educates us and allows us to create an informed opinion of our own. But his point was what we have actually done is given the ability to create one's own news-- so, if you're an uber-liberal animal activist, you can make your own newspaper tailored around those interests, or if you're a right-wing Christian theocrat, you can get by with reading only your part of the news. It's the chance to pick and choose out of a huge collection of information, and it's basically polarizing us from communal discussion and debate. Instead of everyone gathering around Walter Cronkite at a specific time, or coming together for 1 news show, we're bombarded by continual news casts on MSNBC, CNBC, CNN, FOXNews, etc.
He made some really interesting points, and he eloquently discussed the problem with decreasing newspaper subscriptions and readership, the influx of digital file swapping, and the problems with the record companies and music industry in America right now. We are entering a new age that is decidedly digital, and we have to figure out how to regulate it in a way that is neither reactionary nor callous.
Today, we are visiting the National Gallery of Art for class, so that should be interesting and informative. I'm really looking forward to it. I don't remember the last time I visited, so I excited to see the collection and hear more about their policy and history. More on that later!
My job was to control the crowd outside of the museum from 5.00 until 6.30. I distributed information in regards to our simultaneous live Webcast of the event as a consolation to everyone who would not be granted entrance into the event. I also had to act as a medium between the museum administration and the general public, delineating the rules of the event and turning people away. To say I received opposition would be an understatement-- there were some incredibly pointed and harsh words that were said in that hour and a half. Unfortunately, and for obvious reasons, I had to be responsible for the Museum's role and regulations. While I completely sympathized for the girls who drove from Philadelphia and skipped class to see the event but got there too late, or the couple who have followed Barney's work throughout its evolution from the Cremaster Cycle to Drawing Restraint 9, or the group of young artists hoping for the chance to simply be in the same space as one of their idols, I had to mentally remove myself from the situation and present the facts. The problem with it is that you have to look at the person who flew in from CA as the same as the person who lives at Independence & 6th St SW, and I had a really hard time doing as such. But, one positive thing about the event was that my supervisor and other members of the Museum staff all were incredibly appreciative of my initiative and crowd control skills. I also really bonded with a few of the other employees over the event, so it was a good experience overall.
The event was based around a discussion had between Nancy Spector, curator of Contemporary Art at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, and Matthew Barney whose focus was specifically on the evolution of his work and the influence of experimental artist Joseph Beuys. Both artists have a strong sense of theatricality in their work. Beuys is known for a much more live public performance technique, while Barney is recognized for his highly intense and thought-provoking film and sculpture pieces. However, Barney is also known for his 2004 creation of a float for Carnivale in Salvador, Brazil with fellow artist Arto Lindsay. The title of the project was De Lama Lamina (Of Mud a Blade), which mirrored Beuys' dedication to public artistic performance. Also, Spector addressed a recent exhibition that paired works from Beuys and Barney next to each other, thereby imposing a connection to the observer. It really was a fairly fascinating talk; however, Barney's way of speech is very much like his film work-- long, drawn out, yet thoughtful. He is a soft-spoken artist, despite his commanding physicality and presence. Overall, it was an incredibly worthwhile experience, and I feel very blessed to have had the chance to be a part of it.
On a less intellectual note, I am now responsible for keeping up the Hirshhorn's MySpace page, so if any of you are interested / have MySpace, feel free to poke around the site and give any suggestions you may have. I am refreshing my mind in HTML coding, but it's slowly coming back to me. Its very methodical and takes a considerable amount of time, but I think the page looks fairly presentable now, so I am pleased.
The reception on Tuesday evening was one of those events in which one must put on a smile and face the crowd of people with whom you have no connection, except the fact that you're W&M alums. I mostly stuck with fellow W&M students, but we did have the chance to talk to some very interesting people. The most intriguing of these people was Michael Powell, the newly appointed Rector of the Board of Visitors for the College of William and Mary and son of Colin Powell. I also feel it is important to note that Powell is now the first African-American to serve in the role of Rector in the 313 year history of the position. Very exciting! President Gene Nichol spoke to my Freshman Seminar last year about his dedication to diversifying not only the student constituency but the Board of Visitors and faculty as well. It is nice to see this coming to fruition.
To say Michael Powell was a dynamic speaker and had a grasp on what he was saying would be a horribly understatement. He was incredibly approachable, kind, funny and interested in engaging us as students. We started off joking about the lack of nightlife in Williamsburg, but the discussion between he and five students and I soon went to the rights of digital distribution, his time at the FCC and his own feelings on entities such as YouTube, Google, mass media (the New York Times, LA Times, etc) and broadcast television. To paraphrase his position, he believes that we really are no different than our predecessors as a generation; rather, we communicate in different ways and have a new set of priorities and opportunities. It's no different talking on MySpace than talking on the phone for hours back in the 1970s, or in bars and saloons in the 1940s. The difference with media now, according to Powell, is that everything is being customized-- so you log onto Yahoo! and you want to have it be MyYahoo! or My_____. Basically, the average consumer in America now wants things tailored to specifically his or her interests. He made the point that many argue that we have diversified the media now and created a chance for opposing journalism and a forum for disagreements that effectually better educates us and allows us to create an informed opinion of our own. But his point was what we have actually done is given the ability to create one's own news-- so, if you're an uber-liberal animal activist, you can make your own newspaper tailored around those interests, or if you're a right-wing Christian theocrat, you can get by with reading only your part of the news. It's the chance to pick and choose out of a huge collection of information, and it's basically polarizing us from communal discussion and debate. Instead of everyone gathering around Walter Cronkite at a specific time, or coming together for 1 news show, we're bombarded by continual news casts on MSNBC, CNBC, CNN, FOXNews, etc.
He made some really interesting points, and he eloquently discussed the problem with decreasing newspaper subscriptions and readership, the influx of digital file swapping, and the problems with the record companies and music industry in America right now. We are entering a new age that is decidedly digital, and we have to figure out how to regulate it in a way that is neither reactionary nor callous.
Today, we are visiting the National Gallery of Art for class, so that should be interesting and informative. I'm really looking forward to it. I don't remember the last time I visited, so I excited to see the collection and hear more about their policy and history. More on that later!
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