The development of new art museums as centers for urban regeneration has been widely practiced in cities throughout the United States and Europe. The main premise behind this resurgence of construction relates to the notion that art museums can redefine a locale, changing its perception from one of decline to an appealing and exuberant cultural center. By creating an image of prosperity and cultural intrigue, these new art museums boost tourism levels - bringing in needed funding that will assist in the creation of new jobs. What this rosy outlook fails to mention is whether or not the development of an art museum really is beneficial for the local inhabitants and whether its role as spectacle and tourist attraction is the best way to showcase art.

Take for example the development of the Tate Gallery Liverpool, an off-shoot of its mother institution in London, which has made its home in the once depressed area along Albert Dock. Within the last seven years, this area has witnessed the loss of around 1,500 jobs marking the closures of the Tate and Lyle refinery. As one critic proposed, “seven years on from the closure of the Tate and Lyle refinery in the city - and the loss of some 1,500 jobs - Liverpool should be compensated with an offshoot of the old boss’s gallery” (Barker 185). Although art museums such as the Tate Gallery Liverpool can help in the creation of more jobs, often times the jobs are still comparatively few, and many of them are poor paying and temporary. The development of these “new” cultural centers for middle class entertainment purposes further confounds the problem, as the lower class are forced out of their housing from the rising cost of living - driving out the very people that needed assistance. In such cases, the art museum and the spectacle surrounding it have become a sort of visual band-aid, covering up and hiding the deprivation and social stratification underlying the area.

The question then becomes whether or not the development of these new art museums can be justified through the means of their own, independent success - even if their benefits may be minimal to the local population’s economic crisis. The Tate Gallery at Liverpool (although criticized repeatedly in the beginning) has now met with wide support among the community with its highly-esteemed outreach and education programs and now boasts 500,000 visitors a year, 80% of which are from the region.

The traditional perception of knowledge is that it is steeped in concrete facts - unchanging and immovable throughout time. It is this interpretation of knowledge that is openly embraced by the average museum institution - an institution whose reputation and theoretical appeal is dependent upon its promotion of knowledge as a graspable constant. The museum as an authoritative presence has been practiced in almost every established institution nationwide, however there are a few institutions who are beginning to change this standard perspective. Take for example, Ralph Rugoff’s explanation of the Museum of Jurassic Technology. Despite its typical methods of display and meticulous labels, the Museum of Jurassic Technology is to a large degree a facade. The museum has little to do with the geographic location of the Jurassic nor of its prehistoric time period. As Rugoff puts it, “taken together, these observations lead to an irrevocable conclusion: the museum isn’t what it says it is. If not an outright impostor, at the very least it has to be considered an unreliable narrator” (Rugoff 70). However, this is not to be considered a disparaging mark. On the contrary, Rugoff views the museum’s facade to be quite tantalizing and romantic. The museum as metaphor is in fact an accurate reflection of knowledge’s tenuousness and its seductiveness fosters curiosity and the human desire to discover more.

This brings up an important point. Is the museum institution really a place that upholds and dictates the truth? No matter how successful and accurate a museum is in categorizing its collection or executing its mission, the museum is essentially dictating a story. And aren’t stories subject to interpretation? The essential difference between museums such as the Museum of Jurassic Technology and such establishments as the Metropolitan Museum of Art is within this very representation of narrative. The Museum of Jurassic Technology embraces knowledge’s inherent ambiguity and invites its visitors to take part in its creation. The latter dictates through an authoritative voice, leaving very little space for the visitor to contribute, elaborate, and imagine. Whether or not museum institutions should become as vague as the Museum of Jurassic Technology remains to be known, but the museum as a metaphor should indeed be taken into careful consideration.

The current exhibition at Gallery M features works by internationally recognized artist Charles Dwyer and his new series entitled “A Call To Vera.” Dwyer’s works depict traditional subject matter and follow a strong historical connection to the classical interpretation and representation of the feminine mystique. Although his works are reminiscent of the classical portraits of the past, Dwyer has seamlessly reinvented the figurative, blending history with the contemporary flair of today.

Most of the works exhibited are large-scale, figurative, mixed media paintings highlighting Dwyer’s beautiful “fashionistas” - the imagery often alluding to the poses, expressions, and theatrics of the contemporary fashion world. The women look flirtatiously at the viewer, posing coquettishly, a symbol of female sexuality and worth. Thus, Dwyer’s women are contemporary and yet are fetishized - they cannot seem to avert the male gaze, a perspective that has had great influence over a large span of history in the arts. Influenced by collage and narrative, Dwyer’s works are subtly layered with imagery and meaning. The figures are not solidified nor are they grounded in a physical reality. They appear and form from the narratives and subtle symbols that inhabit Dwyer’s imagination, as fantasies and apparitions that tantalize. Dywer’s sensual application of paint and use of pastels and luminescent colors further accentuates the figures as ideals, rather than real women.

Gallery M also featured a small number of Dwyer’s photographic etchings, often depicting sexualized feminine figures. The silver gelatin prints were relatively large in scale, however they were slightly smaller than the average dimensions of the paintings at approximately 48″x36″ inches. Dwyer’s photographic etchings maintained a similar narrative aspect, however many of them had a wider reference point to their locale and seemed to be grounded in a place. Although many of the photographs detailed Dwyer’s unique style, the narratives read more as embellishments than symbols derived from the imagination.

Gallery M used a standard method of display for showcasing Dwyer’s pieces. The works were hung on white walls and were matted and displayed within sleek, modern gilded frames. However, the gallery used a blend of both natural light and LED lights for its lighting system, a non-traditional approach to lighting artworks. The display method was successful for viewing Dwyer’s more traditional pieces, however I found the carpet, lush furniture, subtle wall obstructions, and office desks to be a distraction. For a more professional appeal, it would have been better to have the office desks removed from the general exhibiting area and to have carefully spackled the walls before opening to the public.

Overall, Dwyer’s “A Call To Vera” displayed a strong thematic body of work that both enhanced and highlighted Dwyer’s technical skills, vision, and aesthetic. The traditional subject matter of feminine beauty is a theme that has been revisited for centuries and it is refreshing and delightful to see an artist seamlessly bridge the gap between history and the contemporary. As with all bodies of work, there are some which are more successful than others. For example, “Star 86″ an image of a woman posed similarly to a fashion advertisement, is a little contrived and reads more as an advertisement for Vogue than a figure reminiscent of Dwyer’s imaginary realm. However, works such as, Dwyer’s “Divine” are exquisitely executed and accentuate contemporary sentiments within classical ideals. In “Divine” Dwyer depicts a beautiful young woman sitting elegantly and naturally within the frame. Her look is one of defiance, yet her demeanor and pose allude to classical ideals of beauty and intrigue.  Negatively or positively, his work is a testament to the traditional interpretation of female worth and beauty, which maintains that feminine beauty, sexuality, and youth still sells.

The Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center’s recent expansion has allotted the institution a more diverse space, which now has the flexibility of housing both national and international traveling exhibitions, as well as fostering a larger display for its permanent collection. Similar to national trends in museum expansion, the Fine Arts Center boasts two new museum shops, two restaurants, and a newly renovated theatre that houses various plays and other shows.

There are two main exhibiting spaces, which are divided by levels. The upper level is the traveling exhibition space and is broken up into four gallery spaces respectively. The upper gallery space is large and expansive with hardwood floors, covered windows, and track lighting. There is an extensive use of vinyl text on the walls that often feature quotes from various artists. In addition to these quotes, there is also a significant amount of didactic text to give the viewer the historical and conceptual contexts underpinning the exhibitions theme. Due to the current exhibition “Impressionist and Modern Masters,” the walls are painted in colors such as mauve and evergreen. All of the artworks appear to be hung at around 58″ from the floor, giving a general eye-level vantage point.

There are also various sitting areas that allow the visitor to admire works of art and many of them offer books on the style of artwork being shown. For example, the El Pomar Gallery displayed paintings and drawings from the 17th and 18th century of Europe. In the middle of the gallery, there is a rich and elaborate rug with two antique chairs and a table for viewing books on art. In the North Events Gallery, there is a larger sitting area with modern black benches and chairs to view an educational video on Mary Cassett, an Impressionist artist that is exhibited in the show. Next to the sitting area, there is a space designated for children that showcases child-size easels, a few games, and some books. The walls display a timeline with miniature reproductions of seminal artworks within their respected historical traditions. The timeline traces the historical, philosophical, and social influences that helped in the creation of the Impressionist and other modern movements. There are also interactive computer games that ask the participant to create their “own modern masterpiece” with software that mimicked the styles of such artists as Georgia O’ Keefe.

The lower level galleries feature the permanent collections of the Fine Arts Center and are similar to the upper level galleries in their architectural construction. They have hardwood floors, covered windows, track lighting, vinyl lettering, didactic text, and the walls are painted in a variety of colors depending on the artwork being exhibited. The main difference in display between the upper and lower exhibition spaces is in the presentation of the didactic text. The lower exhibition space has temporary labels printed on white paper, instead of the professional labels on view in the upper galleries. The lower galleries are divided into various themes, many of which exemplify Colorado’s natural landscape and history and a surprisingly large number of artworks by Chihuly. The lower level also allows visitors to view the courtyard with its various sculptures through the very large and modern glass windows of the Smith Gallery/Glass Corridor.

Drawing from the above description, the Fine Arts Center does appear to be successful in maintaining its mission “to be a place of artistic discovery and entertainment.” With its various areas equipped to entertain, the Fine Arts Center has a lot to offer and not all of it pertains to serious contemplations of art. The two restaurants: Cafe 36 and the Deco Lounge offer gourmet meals, excellent views, and culturally fulfilling events such as wine tasting. The museum shops give attendees and the public the ability to buy high-end gifts and souvenirs. Furthermore, the SaGaji Theatre gives the public the opportunity to be entertained through plays, dances, and other forms of spectacle. These facilities offer a wide range of activities for entertainment purposes, which is a significant proportion of the FAC’s mission and goals.

To create an environment that is conducive to the FAC’s mission of “artistic discovery,” the Fine Arts Center has implemented a number of hands on activities, educational videos, and supplemental information to foster not only an understanding of the artworks on display, but to also initiate further inspection and curiosity. For example, the activities in the North Events Gallery create a welcoming atmosphere that is conducive to furthering inspection, experimentation, and understanding. With the casual seating arrangement, computers, t.v. screens, games, easels, and books - visitors feel comfortable to sit, relax, and enjoy learning about art. In addition, the hardwood floors, soft lighting, and in some cases (colored walls) create an atmosphere that is welcoming, inviting the attendee to sit and contemplate.

Overall, the architecture, lighting, method of display, and learning activities of the Fine Arts Center provide a conducive environment for the enjoyment and study of art. The strong emphasis on didactic text, hands on activities, and videos work well with the blockbuster exhibitions held in the upper galleries. These tools help to inform and engage the public with concepts that may be essential to fully appreciating a work of art. At the same time, the over-abundance of didactic text can be distracting at times and can concern the viewer with the artwork’s historical significance rather than its aesthetic qualities. Furthermore, many of the hands on activities (although entertaining and educational) often take away from the contemplative, personal, and intimate encounters with the artwork itself. The computer games in the North Events Gallery do not provide real creative engagement and can often be interpreted as devaluing to the artists and artworks they are trying to mimic.

Also, the prominence of entertainment at the institution, I feel is overemphasized. In my opinion, the artwork should be first and foremost the primary objective of an art institution. I did not like the forced exit through the museum shop and felt that it added to the feel of museum as spectacle and art as commodity. I would like to see less integration of Chihuly with unrelated artworks, professional labeling of the lower exhibition space, and an alternate exit that gives a greater separation between shopping and the serious contemplation of art.

The development of blockbuster shows has become a national and international phenomena.  Blockbuster exhibitions are designed to not only increase status and profits of the museum, but to also educate and attract the general public.  The positive connotations of the blockbuster can be summed up as follows: “the blockbuster exhibition is a scholarly endeavor which serves to educate and entertain the public, bringing prestige and profit to the host institution in the process” (Barker 127).  However, there are also a number of integral problems that formulate a blockbuster exhibition, creating  significant controversy over their real and inherent worth.   

Blockbuster exhibitions are very costly endeavors that often require sponsorship from a variety of sources.   Large corporations often help finance blockbuster exhibitions with the underlying expectation and goal that they will be perceived as a responsible and conscientious business who has the public’s greatest interest in mind.  Unfortunately, this fundamental goal often supercedes  the importance of the artwork, contrasting the museum’s original intentions.   Furthermore, the emphasis on increased profits and status for the host institution and its sponsors may be antithetical to true scholarship and education of the public.  The focus on monetary gain significantly limits the range of subjects that can be shown, limiting the range to such popular movements as Impressionism and artists such as Picasso.  Moreover, the large crowds that ensue severely inhibit the ability to “have any meaningful or even enjoyable contact with the works of art” and are even contrary to educating the public (Barker 127).  Another viable concern is the inevitable commodification of art through the reproduction of artworks for sale as souvenirs and the like. 

Although blockbuster exhibitions  raise a number of relevant concerns, I don’t feel that the inherent problems are solely a product of their implementation.  Blockbuster exhibitions have arisen from the cultural philosophies at hand, which in and of themselves promote materialism, commodification, and commercialism.  Our current society is obsessed with spectacle and delights in the frivolities of materialistic pursuits.  The blockbuster is a natural progression of these cultural sentiments and merely provides a venue for contemporary culture and art to converge.  

  The two case studies “The Museum In A Postmodern Era: The Musee D’Orsay” and “The Sainsbury Wing and Beyond: The National Gallery Today” presented in the book Contemporary Cultures of Display both encompass the effects of architectural design and its influences on how historical artworks are viewed.  While the Musee D’ Orsay created a unique architectural renovation within the confines of a former railroad station, the National Gallery implemented an additional wing to expand its viewing capacity.  Although there are distinct differences between the two architectural projects, both take into consideration the historical context of the artworks to be displayed and try to simulate an architectural style that may have been experienced during the artworks era of creation.                                                                                 Both the Musee D’Orsay and the National Gallery were challenged by the constraints and limitations of creating an architectural structure that functioned as a gallery space, while maintaining an authentic style that would refer to the historical underpinnings of not only the building itself, but also the artwork held within.  According to Emma Barker, the creation of the Musee D’Orsay instigated a wide and often contrasting response as to whether or not it functioned successfully.  However, Barker depicts the National Gallery as a clearer and more successful use of space and design. The contrasting response or degree of success between the Musee D’Orsay and the National Gallery is perhaps due to the fundamental differences within their frameworks.  The Musee D’Orsay was working within the elaborate architectural layout of the train station, a building whose functional design was  not to display works of art.  The architects had to construct an environment that was conducive to the display of artworks, while being confined to the limitations enforced by the station’s original shell.  In contrast, the National Gallery’s expansion had the flexibility and freedom to create its own exterior structure, a structure that was designed specifically for the purpose of hanging and exhibiting art.                                                                                     However, despite their differences in architectural design and limitations, both the National Gallery and the Musee D’ Orsay inevitably create spaces that are facades.  It does not matter that their historical references differ or whether they are pointing to a 19th Century aesthetic or to an Italian Chapel of the Renaissansce - both still reflect the sentiments of the postmodern era.  As Barker states, “we can conclude that all museum design is bound up with changing architectural fashions and also that the style of specific examples will depend on place as well as time” (Barker 60).

    Inspired by the upcoming installation at the Gallery of Contemporary Art “Dario Solman: The Heart of Perspective, The Making of The Film,” I am interested in exploring the spatial relationships of video art in relation to the larger context of the gallery space, the spectator, and the viewing apparatus itself. In Art Journal’s Fall 2007 issue, Kate Mondloch’s article “Be Here (and There) Now: The Spatial Dynamics of Screen-Reliant Installation Art,” Mondloch critically analyzes the spatial relationships inherent in “screen” related art works and their influences on spectatorship. Drawing from the screen installation art works of Valie Export and Peter Campus, Mondloch sheds light on the dualistic realities that are created by the viewing apparatus as a barrier and mediator between two worlds. “A screen is a barrier, wrote the philospher Stanley Cavell in 1971. What does the silver screen screen? It screens me from the world it holds - that is, screens its existence from me” (Mondloch 21).

Both examples that Mondloch cites are referential to the space that is inside the screen, the space in front of the screen, and the materiality of the screen itself. This created an equal emphasis on not only what was viewed, but also how it was viewed. In Export’s “Ping Pong” the viewer is asked to become an active participant in the film and therefore become aware of his/her own role as spectator. By engaging in a “game” with the screen, the spectator must acknowledge the screen’s physical materiality and is forced to engage with and recognize the space in front of the screen. In a similar vein, Campus’s “Interface” allows the viewer to see the performative aspects inherent within video art through the “screen’s” material substance. The screen Campus uses is made out of glass, a reflective material that “must nearly disappear in order to (re) materialize the interface of screen-based viewing” (Mondloch 28). By actively bringing an awareness and understanding to the spatial relationships and issues of video/film installation art, the importance of the gallery and display is brought into sharper focus.

As with all art that is viewed within a gallery or institutional setting, its display plays an important role in how the art is fundamentally viewed and understood. The realm of video/film installation art has historically emphasized the content within and de-emphasized its external context. This has largely been due to the traditional mode of viewing and interacting with media based activities. The screen as a window into another world has been a product of its two-dimensionality, a perspective that has been formulated since the Renaissance. However, it is important for these two realms (the real and the virtual) to converge and create a dialogue. Art cannot be separated from its contextual environments, it is dependent upon them.

    The concept of the art institution as a space of neutrality, where art is free to simply be  art  has been debated and challenged by avante garde artists throughout the century.  In Kirsi Peltomaki’s article “Affect and Spectatorial Agency: Viewing Institutional Critique in the 1970s” Pelomaki recounts this dialogue between artist and institution, where the institution becomes a space for self-analysis and criticism.

In the article, Peltomaki describes, analyzes, and explains the installations of Michael Asher in the Claire Copley Gallery in 1974 and its ultimate affects upon the spectator.  Asher removed any material or artified “objects” from the gallery space and removed the dividers and walls that separated the spectator from viewing and witnessing the everyday actions that occur in the running of a gallery.  This created an almost psychologically induced social experiment, where the spectator and the gallery director were on “display.”  Many of the critics described their immediate feelings as irritation, embarrassment, and uncertainty.  As one critic stated, “For this reviewer, the absence of a dividing wall, along with lack of “that stuff on the walls,” produced a situation that viewers negotiated through a cadre of affective responses: hesitation, uncertainty, irritation, and outright alarm at the reversal of viewing relations” (Peltomaki 38).

Asher’s installation forced the spectator to engage with and contemplate the act of looking in order to realize that the viewer has an engaged and participatory role in the function of art institutions and in the artwork itself.  The spectator is not engaged with passivity. Looking is a very active state.

In addition, Asher’s installation created an awareness of the social and ideological implications and hierarchies that under-pine the institution.  In effect, the institution is driven by a cultural legitimacy, which not only imbues the artwork with meaning, but also colors the way in which it is perceived and interacted with.

Pelotmaki’s analysis brings up a number of important and relevant factors that need to be considered in regards to an understanding of art institutions.  However, my initial thoughts on Asher’s installation at the Claire Copley Gallery were more on the lines of Matthew Ghoulish in his “39 Microlectures.”  By unveiling the people and actions that are behind the scenes, Asher is pointing to the question of “where does an artwork begin and end?”  What does art encompass?  Similar to Ghoulish’s position in his “Microlectures,” I see Asher’s installation as a testament to an artwork’s inclusiveness.  In other words, an artwork is not merely its material.  It encompasses the art institution (and all that is associated with it), the gallery director, the receptionist, the personal narratives and experiences inherent within each and every individual spectator.  The artwork is within the whole.  What makes Asher’s installation so poignant is in its ability to create an experience that is non-dualistic.  Its affects create a transformative experience, where the spectator is created anew.

Although historically the museum display has changed and evolved over time and in conjunction with the differing tastes and needs of the artworld, the conceptual basis for collecting and displaying objects has remained relatively the same. From its beginnings in Europe as the cabinet of curiosities to the contemporary museum format of the white cube, museum displays have in essence aestheticized objects and therefore removed their contextual relationships to society and its culture at large.

By removing objects from their original locations, purposes, and histories, they are immediately “artified” and given a superior precedence that would not have been offered to them in their original context. This can be problematic, especially when museums are displaying objects that are outside of the Western cultural context. Many of the ritual objects from non-western cultures are displayed in isolation and under strong lighting. These methods of display give the object importance solely due to its aesthetic qualities. This may be an acceptable format for objects that are made specifically for their aesthetic qualities and whose intended purpose is for their visual enjoyment alone. However, ritual objects from other cultures and other time periods often have a different meaning and purpose, which is diminished in the traditional museum format. For example, Tibetan sand mandalas that are preserved and encased in glass are valued for their aesthetic qualities, but their original meaning is lost. It is not the physical object of the Tibetan sand mandala, which is the artwork. The artwork is the ceremony surrounding the mandala’s creation and its purpose is to depict the impermanent nature of existence. In many ways, it is the sand mandala’s destruction that is at the heart of the artwork’s significance.

By removing the context from the art objects themselves, the object becomes more or less a signifier that points to its ritual and historical experience and significance. In a similar vein, Stephen Bann’s article “Shrines, Curiosities, And The Rhetoric Of Display” relates the act of collecting with mourning. “The time of collecting is an accumulation of small-scale and fragmentary objects, it is a work of mourning” (Bann 7). In both instances, the object is a signifier for a tangible experience that is no longer available or present. This is not to say that the museum’s methods of display are in need of drastic alterations, but it is a call for the museum institution to be aware of its implications and to educate its audience in understanding the limitations that arise when displaying works of art.

Malraux’s article entitled “Museum Without Walls” describes the evolution and transformation that has occurred in the approach and perception of art from physical museums to “museums” of reproduction. Although art museums have only been established within the last two hundred years, their presence has become the established norm for approaching, viewing, and experiencing art. Thus, museums have framed our perceptions as a culture of what art is and should be. Unlike the approaches to art prior to the museum’s establishment, the museum has given the viewer the intellectual advantage of comparison; creating a dialogue between diverse artworks and styles. Similarly, the photographic reproduction of artworks has expanded our knowledge of art and increased our capabilities for viewing and interacting with a multitude of mediums and genres. In other words, the “museums” of reproduction have allowed further discourse between a broad range of artworks, many of which were limited within the constraints of the physical museum. Due to its physical constraints, art museums could not easily represent works of art that were difficult to display or that were essential components in a larger whole. As Malraux puts it, “Of what is it necessarily deprived? Of all that forms an integral part of the whole (stained glass, frescoes); of all that cannot be moved; of all that is difficult to display (sets of tapestries); of all that the collection is unable to acquire” (Malraux 15). Reproductions allowed for underrepresented works to be viewed and in many ways gave them a particular emphasis that would even be lost in their physical presence. Small decorative arts could be viewed alongside monolithic sculptures without being diminished by such differences in scale. This created an entirely new way of seeing and approaching artworks that in many ways abstracted the art from its meaning, purpose, and context. For example, the textures and variants of color within an artwork are diminished when reproduced, giving a mere skeletal reference of its full presence. Although this can create a unique intellectual and conceptual tool, it inevitably takes away from the experience of viewing and engaging with an artwork. The experience of an artwork encompasses not only its aesthetic qualities, but also one’s personal history, the history and context of the artistic medium, as well as the surrounding activities, sounds, and elements of the present moment. For an artwork to truly live and breathe, it must merge within this environment. Hence, the “museums” of reproduction will greatly assist in our continued development in the intellectual aspects of art, but not in its experiential understanding.