Dia:Beacon
Sunday morning, we left rainy NYC behind us and headed up the foggy Hudson to check out the Dia:Beacon. Situated in an old Nabisco factory, the newest member of the Dia:Family houses a collection of large art pieces that are mostly from the 60's and 70's ... quite a lot of minimalist stuff ... and quite a lot of conceptual minimalism. I kept having to remind myself that a lot of this stuff was ground-breaking when it was done - and that it formed building blocks for certain techniques that have become quintisentially American - and not in a good way.
I have a fundamental problem with works that postulate that the art lies in the idea (or concept) and not in the execution. Thank God the museum gave some credit (small as it might have been) to the group of assistants and volunteers that painstakingly drew millions of black pencil lines on 9 walls of a gallery to follow LeWitt's obessive formula for creating Drawing Series ... (and still have not finished, by the way) These 'producers' of the work are responsible for it tangibly existing ... and the artist is responsible for 'thinking' the work. The artist states that "irrational thoughts should be followed absolutely and logically." Yet, he leaves the absolute and logical work to others while taking on the role of the irrational artist thinker. Ah, how noble. Have we reached an equivalent to the industrial revolution in the art world? Content to produce and follow the obsseive nature of a leader's objectives, are we perhaps afraid to think for ourselves and therefore hold up anyone who 'conceptualizes' as an artist?
The museum does an excellent job of making art feel accessible. The extremely large gallery spaces create a feeling of being in space with the art while simultaneously using the works to create that space itself. Some personal highlights included Michael Heizer's North, East, South, West (because I wanted to jump the bottom of North and see how the musem staff would rescue me); Louise Bourgeois's floor (she manages so successfully to create emotional space); On Kawara's simple, elegant, and mysterious paintings (I wanted to cry for no logical reason); Joseph Beuys (it's just flat out cool when artwork neccessitates an increased number of fire extinguishers in the area 'just in case'); and Richard Serra's monumental sculptures.
Although the museum is largely successful in acheiving its goals, it is interesting to note that:
• at least 90% of the visitors appeared to be from NYC (and yes, you can tell)
• the curators used at least 7 words throughout the museum to explain the galleries / artists / works that no one in my group of 3 graduate art academics had ever heard before and couldn't figure out the meaning of ... even using their latin roots (it's no WONDER so many people feel stupid at museums)
• one of the most interesting parts of the visit is the immense building itself and the incredible open spaces ... although I heard very little talk about the art, I heard many comments such as: Can you imagine if this was your house? Where would you put your bedroom?; I wish I had my roller blades ... this place would be cool to skate through.; My, there is a lot of empty space.
I do have to say that I had a very enjoyable time. The collection really challenges you (even in your hate) to think about art - where it's been - where it is now - and what it can inspire. Walking through the huge space ... somewhere in-between stuffy museum and artist studio - I couldn't help but think that the artist's mystique had been lowered a notch. 'They're just like us,' I realized while passing through some of the galleries. It was a realization that I had only had once before when spotting a pencil line peeking out beneath some color on a Lichtenstein hanging in the MoMA ... and it was a realization that I would gladly pay my 10 bucks for again.
I have a fundamental problem with works that postulate that the art lies in the idea (or concept) and not in the execution. Thank God the museum gave some credit (small as it might have been) to the group of assistants and volunteers that painstakingly drew millions of black pencil lines on 9 walls of a gallery to follow LeWitt's obessive formula for creating Drawing Series ... (and still have not finished, by the way) These 'producers' of the work are responsible for it tangibly existing ... and the artist is responsible for 'thinking' the work. The artist states that "irrational thoughts should be followed absolutely and logically." Yet, he leaves the absolute and logical work to others while taking on the role of the irrational artist thinker. Ah, how noble. Have we reached an equivalent to the industrial revolution in the art world? Content to produce and follow the obsseive nature of a leader's objectives, are we perhaps afraid to think for ourselves and therefore hold up anyone who 'conceptualizes' as an artist?
The museum does an excellent job of making art feel accessible. The extremely large gallery spaces create a feeling of being in space with the art while simultaneously using the works to create that space itself. Some personal highlights included Michael Heizer's North, East, South, West (because I wanted to jump the bottom of North and see how the musem staff would rescue me); Louise Bourgeois's floor (she manages so successfully to create emotional space); On Kawara's simple, elegant, and mysterious paintings (I wanted to cry for no logical reason); Joseph Beuys (it's just flat out cool when artwork neccessitates an increased number of fire extinguishers in the area 'just in case'); and Richard Serra's monumental sculptures.
Although the museum is largely successful in acheiving its goals, it is interesting to note that:
• at least 90% of the visitors appeared to be from NYC (and yes, you can tell)
• the curators used at least 7 words throughout the museum to explain the galleries / artists / works that no one in my group of 3 graduate art academics had ever heard before and couldn't figure out the meaning of ... even using their latin roots (it's no WONDER so many people feel stupid at museums)
• one of the most interesting parts of the visit is the immense building itself and the incredible open spaces ... although I heard very little talk about the art, I heard many comments such as: Can you imagine if this was your house? Where would you put your bedroom?; I wish I had my roller blades ... this place would be cool to skate through.; My, there is a lot of empty space.
I do have to say that I had a very enjoyable time. The collection really challenges you (even in your hate) to think about art - where it's been - where it is now - and what it can inspire. Walking through the huge space ... somewhere in-between stuffy museum and artist studio - I couldn't help but think that the artist's mystique had been lowered a notch. 'They're just like us,' I realized while passing through some of the galleries. It was a realization that I had only had once before when spotting a pencil line peeking out beneath some color on a Lichtenstein hanging in the MoMA ... and it was a realization that I would gladly pay my 10 bucks for again.
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