Le Modèle

NORTHWESTERN/ART/REVIEW

NAR

nuartreview.com / issue 15 / winter 16 le modèle / northwestern university

EXPLORING CYBORGISM IN LA REINCARNATION DE SAINTE-ORLAN p.11 THE DIVAN JAPONAIS AND DIVAN JAPONAS p.15

Le Modèle Art and its Display

NAR NORTHWESTERN/ART/REVIEW

KATHRYN WATTS PRESIDENT KATHRYNWATTS2016@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU KYLIE RICHARDS EDITOR-IN-CHIEF (JOURNAL) KYLIERICHARDS2016@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU CLARE VARELLAS EDITOR-IN-CHIEF (WEB) CLAREVARELLAS2018@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU FLORENCE FU DIRECTOR OF DESIGN FLORENCEFU2018@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU CHARLI HU DIRECTOR OF EVENTS BINGQINGHU2018@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU

EDITORIAL & WEB TEAMS JAKE STERN KATE SLOSBURG ANDREA HERSKOWICH CATHERINE MALLOY ISABEL SCHWARTZ CAROLINE BELL ILANA HERZIG MIMI KHAWSAM-ANG COMMUNICATIONS & EVENTS TEAM ISABEL SCHWARTZ GRACE DEVLIN SOPHIE LEE

CHLOE GARDNER DIRECTOR OF PR CHLOEGARDNER2018@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU GRACE DEVLIN DIRECTOR OF FINANCE GRACEDEVLIN2016@U.NORTHWESTERN.EDU

This issue’s CONTRIBUTORS CHLOE KAUFMAN DARTMOUTH COLLEGE, ART HISTORY SAMANTHA SIEGLER NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY, COMMUNICATION STUDIES AND CREATIVE WRITING LINDSAY M. CHARLES NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY, BIOLOGY AND ART HISTORY SAMANTHA CRAIG STANFORD UNIVERSITY, BIOLOGY AND ART HISTORY

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NAR NORTHWESTERN/ART/REVIEW

»NAR

is a student-run organization founded by Northwestern University undergraduates in 2007 that fosters art historical discourse across campus and the wider community. In addition to providing college students with the invaluable opportunity to publish their work, NAR coordinates art-related programming both on Northwestern’s campus and in the Chicago area. NAR also sponsors career panels with local professionals working in the art world, curates student exhibitions, and runs an annual on-campus art auction.

NAR is firmly committed to the principle that anyone and everyone interested in the discourses of art and its history should be able to participate in them, whether through making, reading, writing, or thinking about art.

We invite undergraduates from colleges and universities everywhere to submit an art history research paper or another form of essay about art. Please send your work to our editor-in-chief Kylie Richards at KylieRichards2016@u.northwestern.edu. If you are interested in contributing to NAR in other ways, please contact our president Kathryn Watts at KathrynWatts2016@u. northwestern.edu.

NAR is a non-commercial journal published by students at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. All images in this issue are copyrighted by their respective owners and are contributed by our authors. Reproduction of images or written content without the permission of Northwestern Art Review is prohibited. Written material is © 2016, all rights reserved.

nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 2

From the

D

uring the submission process and publication of NAR’s fifteenth journal, we found ourselves repeatedly drawn to essays that were concerned less with the content of the artwork discussed, and more with how the work was being conveyed, represented, and communicated to the audience.

Display is an art in itself, and we live in a world that considers the wearer of the art just as, if not more important than the actual art itself. Remodeling and re-imagination have taken the spaces that communicate art to new levels. Art is display, and frames or podiums no longer strictly define or confine it.

The following four essays study attempts to find the aesthetic and artistic value in the display work. As the editorial staff began discussing the theme of this edition and which pieces to include, an unexpected sub-theme emerged. We realized that not only were all the authors of our selected pieces female, but the content of their pieces as well as the overarching theme of the journal was inherently gender-related as well. The conversation we were

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EDITOR having seemed incomplete without consideration of how gender plays a role in each of the following essays.

Art is universal, this is obvious, but it is interesting to think about how gender roles have influenced and are related to its display in society. We hope that you consider this as well while you explore the journal. While the conversation is by no means complete, it is one that NAR hopes you are inspired to touch upon as you read.

On behalf of the entire staff of NAR, I would like to extend thanks first and foremost to Kathryn Watts. As our passionate and fearless leader, we on the editorial staff would not have been able to assemble such a remarkable collection of essays without her unwavering support. I would also like to extend thanks to the design team and Florence, who put together an incredible journal layout for us. Last but certainly not least, I would like to thank the editorial team – Jake, Kate, Caroline, Catherine, Andrea, Clare and Isabel.

This edition represents all of their hard work, diligence and dedication.

And finally, I think I speak for all of NAR when I say thank you to each student who submitted their work to

NAR, you are the artists who keep our journal relevant and thriving, and without you there would be no conversation at all.

I’m so grateful to have been such a big part of the winter journal.

Enjoy.

Kylie Kylie Richards Editor-in-Chief (Journal), Northwestern Art Review

From the

PRESIDENT

N

orthwestern Art Re­ view is reinventing itself. We are rethink­ing the meaning of, to quote from our original mission statement, “the principle that anyone and everyone interested in the discourses of art and its history should be able to participate in them.”

The beginning of NAR’s reimagining has been exciting. The staff decided at the start of the year that we wanted to streamline our quarterly activities and ensure that our programming stayed true to who we are as a student group.

We took a big first step in that direc­ tion by moving our annual spring ca­reer panel to the fall. In keeping with its original intention, we want­ ed to ensure that students interested in building a professional life in a creative field had the opportunity to learn from some of the best in the arts. It was also important to reschedule the event to coincide with the barrage of on-campus programming for students considering the business or engineering worlds—hence, the move to the fall. I was at first daunted by the idea of inviting established art world professionals to join NAR for the panel; however, I learned

quickly the truth of the words, “Ask and you shall receive.” I was over­ whelmed by the positive responses from prospective participants. Many thanks are owed to panelists Kathleen Berzock, Associate Director of Cura­ torial Affairs at the Mary and Leigh Block Museum of Art; Elena Grotto, Assistant Director of Media Rela­ tions at the Museum of Contempo­ rary Art Chicago; Paula Kowalczyk, Assistant Vice President at Christie’s; Michael Rakowitz, Artist and Profes­ sor in Northwestern University’s De­ partment of Art Theory and Practice; and Erin Reitz, Graduate Student in Northwestern University’s Depart­ ment of Art History. I am especially thankful to our moderator, Professor Jesús Escobar, and his guidance in both planning the event and fostering NAR’s relationship with the De­ partment of Art History.

“A Day in the Art World: The Career Panel” was, in my opinion, the best way to kickoff NAR’s programming for the 2015-2016 school year.

As NAR continues to define who we are and who we want to be, Profes­ sor Rakowitz’s words from the panel stay with me: “The thing that’s great about this field, and the thing that’s also so awful, is that there’s no right or wrong.” I am proud to have led NAR as its president during a time

of positive change and increasing ambition. As I prepare to hand over the reins to NAR’s next leader, I am proud to consider the ways that we have stayed true to our mission while also embracing change. Thank you to the members of NAR, both old and new, for making that happen.

I would also like to thank the Depart­ ments of Art History and Art Theory and Practice. Both departments’ fi­ nancial support is integral to the suc­ cess of NAR. Lastly, I am exception­ ally grateful to Professor S. Hollis Clayson, NAR’s faculty advisor, who has continued to be a resource for us even as she held the prestigious Kirk Varnedoe Visiting Professorship at the IFA at New York University this fall.

Sincerely,

Kathryn Kathryn Watts

President, Northwestern Art Review

nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 4

NAR NORTHWESTERN/ART/REVIEW

IN THIS ISSUE

6 CARL ANDRE:

Subliminating the Horizontal

BY CHLOE KAUFMAN

11 THE TECHNOLOGIZED BODY:

Exploring Cyborgism in La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan

BY SAMANTHA SIEGLER

15 THE DIVAN JAPONAIS AND DIVAN JAPONAIS: Allegories of Fin-de-siècle Montmartre

BY LINDSAY M. CHARLES

21 MOMA’S KRENSIFIED EXPANSION PLANS: A Minor Case Study

BY SAMANTHA CRAIG

▲ A rendering of the planned 54th Street entrance for the MoMA. Credit: Diller Scofidio + Renfro

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ON THE COVER: Henri de Toulouse Lautrec, Divan Japonais, 1892. Lithograph, (77.5 x 61 cm).

CARL ANDRE: Subliminating the Horizontal

BY CHLOE KAUFMAN

I

n Rosalind Krauss’ book The Optical Unconscious, she writes about her past teacher, Clement Greenberg, and analyzes his process of sublimating himself as a critic as well as the artists he critiques. She explains that by lifting Jackson Pollock’s work from its horizontal origins on his studio floor to vertical institutional walls, he succeeds in figuratively elevating Pollock’s work and identity. Krauss determines that according to Greenberg, “the vertical is not, then, just a neutral axis, a dimension. It is a pledge, a promise, a momentum, a narrative. To stand upright is to attain a peculiar form of vision: the optical; and to gain this vision is to sublimate, to raise up, to purify.”1 This highly detailed, yet vague definition of the vertical warrants close scrutiny.

Krauss notes that the vertical is not a neutral axis because of its relationship to the body. She refers to Freud’s belief that the ‘erect’ posture of the human body symbolizes the progress of cultural evolution, Moreover, although the adjective ‘erect’ means straight and vertical and can be applied to both the standing position of male and female bodies, it is the root of the word ‘erection,’ and thus draws an almost automatic allusion to the potency of the male phallus. The connection between verticality, human sophistication, and the male sexual organ results in an elevation of man and masculinity.

In stressing the definition of the vertical, Krauss automatically activates the binary between the vertical and the horizontal. As the opposite of the vertical, the horizontal is not a neutral axis either. Throughout history the horizontal axis has been characterized as the feminine counterpart to the masculine vertical axis. While verticality is associated with erectness of

1

Rosalind E. Krauss. The Optical Unconscious. Cambridge, MA: MIT, 1993. 246.

the male figure and phallus, horizontality is connected to the almost clichéd position of the reclining female nude. In this canonical pose the female body appears passive and submissive. While laying flat on a bed or couch, the female body appears helpless, sensual and penetrable. Moreover, the relation between horizontality and femininity extends beyond the female body. Even decorative arts that are horizontal in nature, such as rugs that lay flat on the ground and quilts that cover the ends of beds, are closely associated with the feminine. Because of associations between these artistic objects with femininity, these works of art are seen as craft that lacks integrity, authorship, and appreciation.

The most striking aspect of Krauss’ description of the vertical is her peculiar choice of words. The relationship between the words pledge, promise, momentum, and of narrative with vertical axis is unclear and puzzling. A pledge is a commitment; the word contains a heaviness and is often used in relation to something greater, such as an institution or a cause.

For example, Americans pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States and donors pledge money to a foundation. The word promise, like a pledge is also a type of a commitment, but it insinuates more of an interpersonal agreement, one that is immediate and intimate. Although a connection can be drawn between these two words, how can an axis have the power to be a pledge or a promise? What is the vertical pledging and promising? Perhaps by using both the words pledge and promise, Krauss interprets Greenberg’s definition of the vertical as an axis with the power to maintain a commitment to both large groups and individual people.

The connection between momentum and narrative is less clear-cut. Momentum implies energy, movement and progress, while narrative insinuates nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 6

the existence of a story. Maybe the vertical represents the continuous narrative of the history of art.

Throughout the history of art, fine artists have sought to create paintings, drawings, and photographs to be hung vertically on walls and sculptures to stand, erect in space. Following this logic, then possibly Krauss uses these words to demonstrate Greenberg’s interest in emphasizing the vertical to connect Pollock with the grand academic tradition of the history of art, but to also emphasize how Pollock is pushing the narrative forward. The common denominator of a pledge, a promise, a momentum and a narrative is the futurity implied by each word. This underling element is pertinent because Greenberg strived to define the future of the history of art. Despite Greenberg’s attention to the future, he was not able to perceive the possibility of the break down of his theory of the vertical axis.

Lastly, Krauss introduces Greenberg’s veneration of the optical, a form of vision gained by a vertical body. To look in this way, she writes, “is to sublimate, to raise up, to purify.” This statement prompts many questions. What is sublimated, raised up, purified? Is it the viewer or is it the art? What does Krauss intend by this combination of words?

Although her statement is ambiguous, Krauss clearly communicates Greenberg’s view on the power of the vertical and the optical.

Carl Andre is a minimalist artist famous for flat, geometric sculptures such as 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle (2010). This vast work, a 243-unit rectangle composed of hot-rolled steel square tiles assembled in a 9 x 27 grid formation, is fundamentally horizontal and dominates the space in which it inhabits. The enormity of the work and the dark, naturally brutish gray of the steel projects an indisputably masculine look. Not only does this work undermine that the horizontal axis is feminine, but it also triggers a multi-sensory experience of optical, haptic, and aural sensations. Through this sculpture Andre confronts Greenberg’s veneration of the vertical by challenging the notion of art as purely optical and sublimating the horizontal.

The first sensation that the viewer of the work experiences is optical, and unfortunately for some, due to most recent museum displays of this work, it is also the last. Although situated below the eye level of the spectator, 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle cannot go 7 / winter 2016 / nuartreview.com

unnoticed because the enormous sculpture dominates the space it inhabits. Rather than carving into metal, Andre uses the prefabricated sheets of hot-rolled steel to slice into space. From a distance, the sculpture appears to be composed of identical tiles. While the prefabricated tiles are identical in size, 50 x 50 cm, the slight variations of their surfaces such as the wash of the color or organic marks can be seen when looked at closely. These variations, perhaps due to the chemical processes during fabrication or to the wear and tear over time, highlight the individuality of each tile. When closely examining the work, it is possible to see that some tiles do not sit completely flat against the floor. Because of these tiles it is possible to see that the tiles are not bonded together with any kind of adhesive or melding. Andre creates works like this one through a non-intrusive process of placement. His trust and faith in the material is present in the way that the 243 tiles composing 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle co-exist in space without any interference other than the original act of placement.

Although it is essential to view the work from a distance, because this is the way the work must first be encountered, it is not the viewpoint from which Andre wants the work to be observed. Andre encourages spectators to fully engage with the work by walking on the sculpture. Through this haptic experience of making direct contact with the surface of the sculpture, the spectator can feel the change in the surface and develop a physical connection with the work. While standing on top of the work, the spectator has an entirely new viewpoint, which Andre considers to be the ideal. This is because Andre considers his sculptures as points of observation, rather than merely objects for observation. In a way, the work functions as a platform, literally lifting the spectator slightly above the ground on a new horizontal plane, and figuratively elevating the individual experience of the spectator. Moreover, because the experience of the work differs between individuals, the work continuously serves as a platform for new thoughts and analysis.

The act of walking on 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle adds an aural component to the work. The sound produced while spectators experience the work is dependent on several factors such as the types of shoes they are wearing, the number of spectators walking on the sculpture, and the speed at which they

walk. The dependency of the element of sound on the presence and decisions of the viewer further elevates the power and status of the viewer. In this horizontal work, not only does the viewer have the power to observe and interpret the art, but also to physically interact with the art and manipulate it. Although the sculpture is composed of heavy, solid hot-rolled steel, it is endlessly fluctuating.

Andre’s powerful sculpture, 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle, successfully refutes Greenberg’s veneration of verticality by challenging the notion of art as purely optical. By asserting the power of the horizontal axis, Andre makes a dramatic break with the preceding art historical narrative upheld by Greenberg. Not only does Andre’s sculpture sublimate the horizontal axis, but also in a way, it functions to sublimate, to raise up, to purify the spectator. So then what does it mean for a museum to limit 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle to only the optical? The sculpture is currently on display in the retrospective, Carl Andre: Sculpture as Place, 1958-2010 at Dia:Beacon. Within the exhibition of over 20 metal floor-based sculptures

by Andre, visitors are prohibited from walking on any of the sculptures except for one. The institution permits visitors to only fully experience 46 Roaring Forties (1988) because, unlike all the other works that are on loan from collectors, this work is on loan from the artist himself, who gave the museum permission to allow people to walk on the sculpture.

As a purely optical object, Andre’s sculptures like 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle, are stripped of their

▲ Figure 1 – Install shot at Dia:Beacon. ◄ Figure 2 – Carl Andre, 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle v 2010.

Install Shot at Alfonso Artiaco Gallery, Naples.

meaning and power as art. Without the experiential elements of the haptic and the aural, the work is mitigated. Although the sculptures present at Dia:Beacon are technically the same artworks originally bought by these collectors years ago, when placed in the exhibition space as purely optical objects, the sculptures lose their influence and value.

They inhabit the museum as surrogates, standing in as memorials to the art that once existed. While people tiptoe around sculptures like 9 x 27 Napoli Rectangle, they lose their power as spectators. No longer able to experience the entirety of what the work has to offer, people are left only with the ability to look and to imagine what it would be like to walk on the sculpture and see the world from this nowunobtainable point of observation. nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 8

Figure 4: Second mouth, 7th Surgery-Performance Titled Omnipresence, New York, 1993. Cibrachrome in Diasec mount, 65 x 43”

THE TECHNOLOGIZED BODY: Exploring Cyborgism in La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan

P

BY SAMANTHA SIEGLER

erformance artist ORLAN uses medical technology and plastic surgery as part of her work, often transforming her physical appearance to make statements about broader concepts. ORLAN states that she considers the woman’s body “privileged material for the construction of [her] work.” 1 Using her own body as a platform, she critiques contemporary and historical expectations concerning female beauty. Because of her use of surgical manipulation, ORLAN exemplifies postmodern, post-humanist ideologies concerning the role of technology with

1

C. Jill O’Bryan, Carnal Art: Orlan’s Refacing (University of Minnesota Press, 2005) 14.

2 ORLAN, La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan, performance, 19901995

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in the body. In La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan (1990-1995), ORLAN takes advantage of technology to both critique and celebrate it.2 Her bodily transformation embraces postmodern abilities for corporeal malleability and deconstructs historical conceptions of beauty, all the while questioning the role of physical appearance in identity.

La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan occurred in nine stages, each involving a separate surgery with a unique documentation and staging. The surgeries were completed in order to reincarnate ORLAN with features from figures in five paintings with important histories: the chin of Venus from Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, the nose of Psyche in Gérard’s Le premier baisser de l’amour à Psyche, the eyes of Diana from Diane chasseresse, the lips of Europa

in Gustave Moreau’s L’enlévement d’Europe, and the eyebrow of Mona Lisa in Leonardo’s Mona Lisa.3 From these surgeries, ORLAN used her removed flesh to create reliquaries to document her performance and to create several bodies from her one original body- a comment on the ubiquitous notion of a singular body. ORLAN decorated the different operating rooms in reference to the five historical paintings, as well as contemporary social norms. Different stages utilized props such as contrasting black and white crosses, white plastic flowers, video projections, and elaborate costumes.

Her performance exists today largely through these artifacts and through video and photographic documentation.

The seventh stage of La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan, Omnipresence, stands out for its broader presentation and more up-front documentation; however, it is exemplary of the messages of the performance as a whole. The role of the audience is key to the performance’s conceptual messages. Omnipresence was filmed through CBS News and broadcasted live to the Sandra Gering Gallery in New York, the McLuhan Centre in Toronto, and the Centre Pompidou in Paris.4 The broadcasting of Omnipresence allowed ORLAN to objectify her body in front of the masses. ORLAN particularly singles out intellectuals, stating, “I wanted to do a performance that would be like a bomb in intellectual society.”5 She opened upliterally and figuratively- her body as a platform for critique. The surgeon, as directed by ORLAN, manipulates ORLAN’s flesh and inserts prosthetics.

The explicitness and grotesqueness of this image invites a squeamish reaction; ORLAN utilizes this to promote a dialogue about the future of the role of technology within the body. Throughout this surgery, ORLAN welcomed live commentary through fax and telephone from her viewers; since she was only under local anesthesia, she was able to communicate with her viewers through this process.

The ability of viewers to react and comment in real time blurred the divide between viewer and art,

making Omnipresence an interactive experience.

Adding an unstaged element to ORLAN’s otherwise planned performance heightened her message about social influence. The communication between viewer and artist emphasizes ORLAN’s critique of the social involvement in the creation of personal image and identity.

La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan embraces medical technologies that can be arguably frivolous.

The typical intention of those who undergo cosmetic surgery is to look more beautiful, furthering culturally and historically naturalized beliefs.

Although there have always been ways of altering one’s appearance without advanced technology,

3

6

C. Jill O’Bryan, Carnal Art: Orlan’s Refacing (University of Minnesota Press, 2005) 14.

4 C. Jill O’Bryan, Carnal Art: Orlan’s Refacing (University of Minnesota Press, 2005) 14.

5 ORLAN, quoted in Margalit Fox, “A Portrait of Skin and Bone,” New York Times, November 21, 1993

“

I wanted to do a performance that would be like

A BOMB IN INTELLECTUAL SOCIETY.

”

these beliefs mainly existed through ideologies, cultural norms, and temporary physical alteration before the popularization of cosmetic surgery. After cosmetic surgery, these beliefs became tangible options. As demonstrated through La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan, it is possible to choose an exact nose for your own to be modeled after. ORLAN critiques the reasons for wanting to look a certain way, but celebrates that this technology enables us to take control over our own bodies. She “assumes

Pitts, Victoria L., In the Flesh: The Cultural Politics of Body Modifications (Palgrave Macmillan, 2003) 166.

7 Pitts, Victoria L., In the Flesh: The Cultural Politics of Body Modifications (Palgrave Macmillan, 2003) 152.

8 Haraway, Donna J. Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature (Routledge, 1991) 149.

nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 12

that the body is already technologized, and pursues individual agency within that context.”6 ORLAN opposes dominant ideologies and constructed notions of beauty; she laments that cosmetic surgery is often motivated by the masculine gaze, but grotesquely points to its potential to free oneself from a seemingly arbitrary body. ORLAN champions individual freedom from historical, male-induced epistemes of beauty through denaturing her own body.

ORLAN fits in accordingly with the concept of the cyberpunk, which “assumes a world in which endless body transformation, and the hybridity of humans and machines, is taken for granted.” 7 This postmodern idea encourages the meshing of humans and technology, pushing the body past its natural conditions. Donna Haraway describes cyborgs

the authenticity of the performance; what ORLAN is doing to her body is in fact real and permanent.

A similar tension occurs between the ideas of public and private. ORLAN exploits this idea in two ways: by publicizing typically intimate operations, and by disrupting the historically private domain of the body through manipulation. ORLAN’s interaction with her audience in Omnipresence has a shock value, as she literally invites guests to watch and comment on her performance. This serves to reinforce ORLAN’s idea of breaking down dichotomies and cultural expectations. These conflicting ideas support the overarching theme about how external influences are manifested on bodies and identities. Martin Kemp and Marina Wallace bring up an interesting point by separating the ‘nude’ from the ‘body’ in art history. 9 By

“SHE DID NOT CONSTRUCT HERSELF TO BECOME AN EMBODIMENT OF THE IDEAL; SHE CREATED HERSELF AS AN ARTIFACT FROM A SOCIETY

PLAGUED BY BEAUTY STANDARDS. TO HER, THESE SEEMINGLY EXCRUCIATING PERFORMANCES ARE ENJOYABLE AND CATHARTIC.”

as “a hybrid of machine and organism, a creature of social reality as well as a creature of fiction.”8 This tension between reality and fiction accurately describes ORLAN’s performance. She uses fictional depictions of figures in paintings, but brings them to reality through real, postmodern technology.

La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan announces that seemingly futuristic, cyborg technology is in fact a reality of the present. Additionally, there is a distinct gravity and starkness in this piece that derives from

Martin Kemp and Marina Wallace, Spectacular Bodies: The Art and Science of the Human Body from Leonardo to Now (University of California Press, 2000) 152.

10 ORLAN, interview by C. Jill O’Bryan, EXTRActions: A performative Dialogue “with” ORLAN, April 2000 11 Haraway, Donna J. Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature (Routledge, 1991) 154.

12 Haraway, Donna J. Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature (Routledge, 1991) 177.

9

13 / winter 2016 / nuartreview.com

publicizing her performance, ORLAN confirms her objectified role as a body, rather than a nude. This aspect of her performance brings to light questions about ownership of the body, with ORLAN promoting individuals to take control of their own bodies.

La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan disseminates ORLAN’s belief that the body is not a key factor in an individual’s identity. For ORLAN and her contemporaries, the body in its natural form is “obsolete.”10 Technology, and the cyborg culture it has brought about, allow for shifting identities.

A characteristic of this postmodern culture is “permanently partial identities,” a cyborgian goal

ORLAN, quoted in Margalit Fox, “A Portrait of Skin and Bone,” New York Times, November 21, 1993 14 ORLAN, interview by C. Jill O’Bryan, EXTRActions: A performative Dialogue “with” ORLAN, April 2000 13

▲ Figure 5: Needle of Anesthetizing Syringe and Sticks in upper lip, 7th Surgery-Performance Titled Omnipresense, New York, 1993. ► Figure 4: Close up of a laughing during the 7th Surgery-Performance nº1, 7th Surgery-Performance Titled Omnipresence, New York, 1993.

shared by Haraway and ORLAN11 Harway argues for fluid, permeable affinities, rather than fixed identities and dualisms, especially for those concerning gender.12 ORLAN physically and conceptually manifests these ideas in La Réincarnation de SainteOrlan by commenting on gender-specific expectations of female beauty and encouraging the exploration of appearance.

Through La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan, ORLAN confronts the ideal rather than achieving it. She did not construct herself to become an embodiment of the ideal; she created herself as an artifact from a society plagued by beauty standards.

To her, these seemingly excruciating performances are enjoyable and cathartic.13 She celebrates that “we can now alter the body without provoking pain,” making corporeal malleability a reality.14 La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan provides an agent through which ORLAN promotes these viewpoints in a shocking and literal way. ORLAN’s performance encourages the use of technology in a way that eliminates historical conceptions of female beauty and enhances one’s ability to create a fluid and undefined identity. ■

Marita Sturken and Lisa Cartwright, Practices of Looking: An Introduction to Visual Culture (New York: Oxford University, 2009).

Martin Kemp and Marina Wallace, Spectacular Bodies: The Art and Science of the Human Body from Leonardo to Now (University of California Press, 2000).

ORLAN, interview by C. Jill O’Bryan, EXTRActions: A performative Dialogue “with” ORLAN, April 2000.

ORLAN, La Réincarnation de Sainte-Orlan, performance, 1990-1995.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ORLAN, quoted in Margalit Fox, “A Portrait of Skin and Bone,” New York Times, November 21, 1993.

C. Jill O’Bryan, Carnal Art: Orlan’s Refacing (University of Minnesota Press, 2005).

“Performance.” Orlan Official Website. Accessed March 24, 2015. http://www.orlan.eu/works/performance-2/nggallery/page/2.

Haraway, Donna J. Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature (Routledge, 1991).

Pitts, Victoria L., In the Flesh: The Cultural Politics of Body Modifications (Palgrave Macmillan, 2003).

nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 14

THE DIVAN JAPONAIS AND DIVAN JAPONAIS:

Allegories of Fin-de-siècle Montmartre BY LINDSAY M. CHARLES

I

n Henri de Toulouse Lautrec’s 36 years of life, he observed, documented and critiqued a particularly unique moment in the development of our modern age. Lautrec cast away his aristocratic birthright to “slum” with the bohemians of Montmartre – a hill with a long history of being home to Paris’ societal fringe.

As a seminal artist of Montmartre life at the fin-de-siècle, Lautrec’s work is emblematic a specific historical moment.

Technological advancements popularized color lithography, a new medium that leant well to posters as a flashy and easily distributed advertising form. Soon, brightly colored affiches peppered the grand boulevards, petites rues and personal collections of Paris, punctuating every cross-section of Parisian society with the announcement of performances to see and experiences to have. The age of the poster engendered a new age of public artistic practice, where graphic arts were elevated to creations worthy of collection, and where the debauchery of Montmartre nightlife became familiar to even those whom had never ascended la butte. Mascots of the café- concert lifestyle, like dancer, intellectual and print enthusiast Jane Avril, and diseuse Yvette Giulbert, 15 / winter 2016 / nuartreview.com

became frequent subjects of Lautrec’s café-concert posters, which in turn fostered the modern concept of celebrity culture.

Divan Japonais (fig.1), like many of Lautrec’s lithographic works, depicts a candid snapshot of life in Paris’ bohemian Montmartre milieu. The advertisement serves both documentary and aesthetically pivotal functions; the lithograph medium, japonisme influences, café-concert subject and public distribution of the design capture a unique historical moment – one that can be characterized by a craving for novelty, a broadened access to art, and credited with fostering the culture of modern celebrity. Almost an allegory of modern concepts that shaped Henri de Toulouse Lautrec’s short career, Divan Japonais picks up on the idiosyncrasies of turn-of-thecentury café-concerts and the entré into the Bohemian lifestyle they gave their diverse patrons, even if only for an evening. At the forefront of this discussion, though, are the ways Lautrec’s print speaks authoritatively to the lifecycle of the unique café-concert, the democratizing effects of lithographic print technology on art engagement and ownership, and to Japanese artistic practices and aesthetics as pervasive fin-de-siècle influences.

▲ Figure 1 – Henri de Toulouse Lautrec, Divan Japonais, 1892.

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I. Divan Japonais and the Café-Concert

The Montmartre district emerged as an artistic and literary center in the Third Empire, developing after the prohibitory Paris city wall demolished and the hill was claimed as Paris’ 18th arrondisement in 1860. Montmartre became a destination for the bohemian intelligentsia to live, work and socialize.

The café-concert or cabaret, frequented and depicted

by Lautrec and his bohemian contemporaries, offered a specific type of nighttime experience complete with food, beverages and the highlights: stage acts and performances.1 Between 1870 and 1900, the Place Pigalle, Boulevard Rochechouart and the Batignolles became riddled with these establishments, which had become known as seedy, but charmingly unique experiential destinations, where members all kinds of Parisians met to find something they were missing. The “fringe” nature of Montmartre, located on the outskirts, spoke to a sense that there, social rules did not apply. An otherwise inconceivable diversity of peoples mixed in search of something that could not be found on the grands boulevards, at the Salon, or anywhere that politeness or convention was expected. Peter Kropmanns describes that “For many people, Montmartre was a synonym for joie de vivre; one did not leave it as one had come, but usually tipsy and often enough with a new companion.”2 The popularity of the district engendered a proliferation of bals and music halls. The trendy nature of one spot over another meant that constant reinvention by club directors was critical to survival, and the turnover from one establishment to the next was frequent. “Even the clubs and cafés that have gone down in the history of literature and art were in many cases no more than entrepreneurial nine-day wonders that survived for only a few months or years, with very few of them lasting much longer.”3 The competition for staying power was a reality of a locale’s life on la butte, so each café-concert had its own theme and performance offering to differentiate one address from the next. Often, these themes reflected social realities of the time, as influenced by their cosmopolitan patrons. The Divan Japonais of Lautrec’s brilliant 1892

Peter Kropmanns, “Dance Clubs and Cabarets in Montmartre During the Belle Époque,” Esprit Montmartre: Bohemian Life in Paris around 1900, Ingrid Pfeiffer and Max Hollein, eds., Schirn.

2 Ibid, 109.

3 Ibid, 105.

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lithograph is exemplary of this contemporary trend in decorative differentiation.The Divan Japonais opened in 1873 at 75 rue des Martyrs, just steps from La Taverne du Bagne, around the corner from Le Mirliton, and within a stone’s throw of La Nouvelle Athènes, Le Chat Noir and Le Rat Mort. Divan Japonais, which translates to “Japanese settee,” was famous for a decisive Japanese decorative motif. The thematic design helped Divan Japonais compete for patrons, and certainly capitalized on a general Parisian japonisme.

According to the accounts of visitors, the café-concert was positively bedecked with the symbols and aesthetics of the Far East. It was a “high class travesty...of the Parisian café, transformed...by Bamboo chopsticks glued on red and blue billiard tables...tints which are particular to people of the Far East.”4 Santiago Rusiñol, a foremost figure of Catalonian modernism, was part of a tight circle of Catalonian artists who came to France for inspiration.5 He wrote a column for the Barcelona newspaper La Vanguardia titled “From the Mill,” or “Desde el Molino” in which he describes his experiences at myriad Montmartre café-concerts. Of the Divan Japonais, Rusiñol writes: Two fantastic lamps announce the Divan Japones. There in the background, among such robust clamor...surrounded by Japanese monsters hanging from the ceiling, with double sets of ears and triple lines of teeth, and among figures of underwater snakes and idols with shark eyes that glow on the walls, a poor figure can be seen...who, above the stage, opening her mouth and looking wide- eyed at the director of the orchestra, coming and going and waving with uncontrollable movements, tries to be heard among the formidable tumult.6

The performer mentioned is Yvette Guilbert, one of the foremost singers of the café- concert scene in the 1880s-90s, known as a diseuse, or “talker,” for her specific and beloved style of talk-singing. After an early shift at the Moulin Rouge, Yvette Guilbert sang to the late- night crowds of 150-200 at the Divan Japonais, where she said her “artistic consecration began.”7 Yvette Guilbert’s star rose, and with it the popularity of the Divan Japonais.

The cabaret reached its peak from 1882-1892 under the proprietorship of the olive merchant Jehan Sarazzin, who

John Grand-Carteret, Raphael et Gambrinus, ou l’Art dans la Brasserie, (Paris: 1886), 184. Translated by Mariel Oberthur in Cafés and Cabarets of Montmartre, pg. 85.

5 Harold B. Segel, Turn-of-the-Century Cabaret: Paris, Barcelona, Berlin, Munich, Vienna, Cracow, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Zurich, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1987), 88.

6 Santiago Rusiñol, Desde el Molino: Impresiones de un viaje a París, 1894, (Barcelona: Parsifal Ediciones, 1999), 84-85.

Translated from Spanish by Lily W. Helfrich.

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moonlighted as a poet and cabaret owner.8 This was not the Divan Japonais for which Henri de Toulouse Lautrec was commissioned to create a poster.

Sarazzin sold the café to Edouard Fournier in 1892 as its popularity waned. It was Fournier who sought out Lautrec’s demonstrated expertise in graphic poster advertisement after the public success of Lautrec’s first lithographic poster, La Goulue au Moulin Rouge, in 1891.

From a documentary perspective, Lautrec immortalizes a fading Parisian monument in Divan Japonais (1892). The characteristics of the work, which live on in the hundreds of reproductions printed, summarize the inimitable experience of a night out in Montmartre – the music, performer, audience member and atmosphere are all aptly and nostalgically represented. For its striking lines, vivid colors and comprehensive composition, the 1892

of flat color, unmodeled hues and crowded composition point to the artistic influence of ukiyo-e masters and the popular interest in Eastern aesthetics, of which the Divan Japonais was a physical monument. The artist captures a nuance of his historical moment in a technical manner that more subtly speaks volumes to the japonisme influence on modernist artists and supports the characterization of fin-de-siècle Parisians as seekers of the ephemeral extraordinary and exotic.

Following the arrival of Matthew Perry’s delegation and the Convention of Kanagawa in 1854, Japan was opened to the West. As Japanese goods made their way into European hands and a new aesthetic was beheld, a popular interest in the Japanese culture, japonisme, grew. The 1867 Exposition Universelle in Paris further stimulated a curiosity for all things Far Eastern, which was

“LAUTREC CAPTURES A NUANCE OF THIS HISTORICAL MOMENT IN A TECHNICAL MANNER THAT MORE SUBTLY SPEAKS VOLUMES TO THE JAPONISME INFLUENCE ON MODERNIST ARTISTS AND SUPPORTS THE CHARACTERIZATION OF FIN-DE-SIÈCLE PARISIANS AS SEEKERS OF THE EPHEMERAL

EXTRAORDINARY AND EXOTIC.” Lautrec lithograph Divan Japonais has known a timeless success that long outlives the establishment it advertised.

In subject, Divan Japonais is a testament to the fickle loyalties of fin-de-siècle Parisians and the golden decade of the Montmartre café-concert.

II. Parisian Japonisme

One might mistakenly fault Lautrec for misrepresentation, as Divan Japonais makes but one reference to the Japanese-inspired cabaret’s décor. Outside the bamboo cane Edouard Dujardin (right) holds, there is no reference to the “fantastic lamps” or “Japanese monsters” that Rusiñol describes, nor the chopsticks from Grand-Carternet’s account. Instead, Lautrec reinforces the Japanese motif with his technique, modeling the lithograph in the style of a Japanese woodblock print. The expanses

Raymond Rudorff, The Belle Epoque: Paris in the Nineties, (New York: The Saturday Review Press, 1973) 88. Translated from Spanish by Lily W. Helfrich.

8 Mariel Oberthur, Cafés and Cabarets of Montmartre, (Salt Lake City: Peregrine Smith Books, 1984), 87.

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compounded by a general Parisian “thirst for novelty,” and constant “search for the extraordinary.”9 This popular interest in the “mode orientale” and Parisian japonisme was the inspiration for the thematically decorated Divan Japonais.10 The first major retrospective exhibition of Japanese art in the West opened in spring of 1883 at the Gallery of George Petit, located in Paris’ 9th arrondisement.11 The exhibition and its accompanying publication introduced the major themes and styles of Japanese art, namely ukiyo-e prints, to an astonished and appreciative audience.

Ukiyo-e, which translates literally to “floating world

Peter Kropmanns, “Dance Clubs and Cabarets in Montmartre During the Belle Époque,” Esprit Montmartre: Bohemian Life in Paris around 1900, Ingrid Pfeiffer and Max Hollein, eds., Schirn Kunsthalle Frankfurt & Hirmer Verlag Munich, 2014, 105.

10 Anne Christine Faitrop, “Review: Le Café Concert by François Caradec, Alain Weill,” The French Review 57, no. 4, (March, 1984), 576.

11 Phillip Dennis Cate, “Japanese Influence on French Prints 18831910,” Japonisme: Japanese Influence on French Art 1854-1910, (Kent: The Kent State University Press, 1975), 53.

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pictures,” came to Paris at a particularly apropos time.

It was the dawn of l’affichomanie, or “postermania” on the Paris streets, which by the 1890s were positively covered in colored lithograph reproductions, and were ceremoniously collected by the Parisian elite and layman alike. Lithography, as an efficient means of artistic reproduction, made colorful graphic arts plentiful and affordable to everyone – a great advance in the development of publically available art forms. Lautrec was an early adopter and recognized master of the lithographic medium, in the good company of another contemporary graphic artist, Jules Chéret. The appeal of the vividly colored works spread from the public streets to the private home; print shops sold repurposed lithographs in portfolios and catalogues – the L’Estampe Originale was among the most popular. The versatile nature of lithography allowed an advertisement’s lettering (to describe the upcoming debut of a performance troupe, for example) to be left off a particular reproduction. The collector is conveniently and affordably left with a handsome image of can-can dancers to hang in the foyer.

Ukiyo-e filled a similar niche in the Japanese universe. Whereas Japanese painting genres served “small, privileged, and élite audiences, ukiyo-e appealed to a much broader spectrum of the public,”12 Ukiyo-e was particularly focused on woodblock printing, a medium similar in general production to lithographs. These prints served an urban audience that desired “immediacy and novelty,” so while the principle artists were often the same ones respected for their high-brow painting, the popular style operated in an “easily accessible representational mode.”13 The parallels in social function between ukiyo-e woodblock prints and lithographic posters are easy to see. Both art forms, by nature of their affordable and reproducible qualities, had socially leveling effects in terms of artistic engagement and ownership. The artistic influence of ukiyo-e on Lautrec is similarly evident – particularly in Divan Japonais.

III. Lautree’s Ukiyo-e Influence

▲ Figure 2 – Utagawa Kuniyasu (1800-1836), Actor, Bando Mitsugoro. Colored woodcut, 19th century.

15 x 10 1⁄2 inches (38.1 x 26.7 cm.).

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In an 1882 letter to his father, Lautrec describes an early encounter with Japanese art; a fellow student in Léon Bonnat’s studio shared a few “splendid” examples with him.14 By the time he created Divan Japonais in 1892, Lautrec was known to spend days at specialized

David Bell, “Prologue,” Ukiyo-e Explained, (Kent, CT: Global Oriental, 2004), ix.

13 Ibid.

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print shops studying the work of Japanese ukiyo-e print masters.15 There are a number of conventions, a “stylistic idiom,” that distinguish the ukiyo-e type.16 The woodblock artists use multiple blocks to create polychromatic images, where swaths of unmodeled color lay against each other in a single plane. The shallow spatial constructions that these colors create are defined by a distinctive linearity, which gives ukiyo-e prints a universal readability. Divan Japonais is a prime example of Lautrec borrowing conventions of ukiyo-e. He plays on the japonisme of the subject in the work, whose linearity, polychromy and accessibility contribute to its timeless success.

“Lautrec – possibly more than any other artist – assimilated and exploited the stylistic elements and the textural concerns of the Japanese print.”17 Divan Japonais features a vertically aligned composition of relatively large size (77.5 x 61 cm). The immediately striking figure of the recognizable dancer and Montmartre icon Jane Avril arrests the viewer in her almost impossibly opaque black gown. Fully saturated with black ink, Lautrec draws attention to the fashion of the day – the unavoidable darkness of Avril’s dress and ornate hat are echoed in the coloring of Avril’s fan, Edouard Dujardin’s top hat, and the decapitated Yvette Guilbert’s full- length gloves. These trendy accessories, particular to the mode of the moment, situate the work in fin-de-siècle zeitgeist.

The sinuous linearity is another motif borrowed from ukiyo-e. Black outlines emphasize the curvature of Avril’s chair and Dujardin’s cane, and the flaccid change purse (which some argue serves a phallic reference, but is a prefiguration of a Dr. Seuss character’s hat, selon moi) that Avril has set upon the table. Yvette Guilbert is on stage in the upper left. Her comparatively diminutive size cues the viewer to her relative depth in space, though Lautrec evades traditional perspective, favoring “the use of diagonal elements going across and off rather than back and into the composition.”18 The shallow

Unpublished Correspondence of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, eds.

Lucien Goldschmidt and Herbert Schimmel, (New York: Phaidon, 1969), 64.

15 Phillip Dennis Cate, “Japanese Influence on French Prints 18831910,” Japonisme: Japanese Influence on French Art 1854-1910, (Kent: The Kent State University Press, 1975), 64.

16 David Bell, “Prologue,” Ukiyo-e Explained, (Kent, CT: Global Oriental, 2004), ix.

17 Phillip Dennis Cate, “Japanese Influence on French Prints 18831910,” Japonisme: Japanese Influence on French Art 1854-1910, (Kent: The Kent State University Press, 1975), 65.

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composition references the atmosphere in the “cramped little cabaret,”19 (where Yvette Guilbert would “take care not to lift my arms unless it was absolutely necessary for then, my hands would hit the ceiling,”20) as well as a cannon of prints by ukiyo-e masters. In Utagawa Kuniyasu’s Actor, Bando Mitsugoro (fig.2), a grey-toned rectangle slices the composition horizontally to represent a garden wall. This technique is identical to Lautrec’s rendering of the orchestra’s pit, which separates Avril and Dujardin as audience members from the decapitated Guilbert on stage. In these ways, Lautrec avoids a literal visual representation of the Japanese decor at the Divan Japonais.

Referencing the japonisme of the era with a composition dedicated to the stylistic qualities of the ukiyo-e prints that inspired French artists and collectors, Lautrec doubly expresses a nuance of fin-de-siècle Paris through the immortalization of the Divan Japonais - a monument to Japanese influence on popular tastes.

The Divan Japonais was allegorical of the Montmartre Lautrec experienced, and Divan Japonais immortalized, in its hundreds of reproductions, the idiosyncrasies of a historical moment. The gimmicky décor at the caféconcert played on a societal desire for the ephemerally extraordinary – something that once discovered was immediately stripped of its novelty. The trendiness of an establishment, a performer, or accessory shaped an immutable Parisian culture, with which the constant reinvention in Montmatre sought to keep up.

Lautrec’s lithograph, by its medium, purpose and means of distribution spoke to the revolutionary nature of polychromatic printing, which democratized art’s accessibility and spurred l’affichomanie. The exoticism of Japanese art objects flooding the French market impacted the gens de Paris and the artistic communities deeply, and Divan Japonais represents them both in subject matter, as well as composition and technique. Depicting the mainstays of the moment, Jane Avril and Yvette Guilbert, at the apex of their careers in the fickle crowd’s flavor of the week cabaret, Divan Japonais captures the personalities, social interests and artistic influences that made Henri de Toulouse Lautrec’s time on la butte inimitable. ■

“Japanese Influence on French Prints 1883-1910,” Japonisme: Japanese Influence on French Art 1854-1910, (Kent: The Kent State University Press, 1975), 109.

19 Ibid, 87.

20 Raymond Rudorff, The Belle Epoque: Paris in the Nineties, (New York: The Saturday Review Press, 1973) 88.

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A rendering depicts the view of the new complex from 53rd Street. Credit: Diller Scofidio + Renfro

MoMA’s KRENSIFIED EXPANSION PLANS AND ITS SUBSEQUENT PITFALLS

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BY SAMANTHA CRAIG

he turn of the 21st century brought about massive change in the world, both technologically and culturally, with the public becoming increasingly preoccupied with pop culture and the entertainment industry’s current events. To adjust to this transition of focus, museums, being institutions primarily focused on scholarly endeavors, understandably searched for ways to remain noteworthy and influential in the eyes of the community. Often times, this meant updating and expanding their spaces to incorporate flashier architecture and design. In the spring of 2013 New York’s Museum of Modern Art announced its new expansion plans that includes lobby improvements, a new Grey Box studio for performances, and public access to the sculpture garden.

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Additionally, the museum will be gaining approximately 40,000 square feet of extra exhibition space.

However, 10,000 square feet of this will come at a significantly higher cultural cost than the rest.

To accommodate these plans, MoMA had to demolish the now vacant American Folk Art Museum building, which was considered to be a “notable work of 21st century architecture by noteworthy architects.”

Once the demolition occurred, it brought to light a significant problem that has been seriously plaguing the art world in recent years: at what point do museums and art institutions looking to maintain relevance prioritize their art and their city’s architectural history over the glorification of lavish architecture and blockbuster exhibitions to encourage growth of public interest? Granted, most

believed that “the short, asymmetrical, windowless building never captured the public’s imagination,” and “it was something, really, that only an architect or critic could love,” but this particular case especially epitomizes the issue at hand in that the building represented everything that contradicts the newer, more materialistic perspectives on what an art museum should be. In other words, the now demolished American Folk Art Museum building was, at its very core, an embodiment of antiKrensification, primarily because of when it was built and the symbolism it possessed.

The term Krensification stems from the last name of the Guggenheim’s former director, Thomas Krens, who is now infamous for his efforts to essentially franchise the museum and expand to Bilbao, Spain.

Historically, a Krensified museum is defined as “ 1) a franchised, global institution; 2) that embodies the politics of seduction and gambling; 3) while taking advantage of the dynamics of gentrification and emblematic architecture among ruins; 4) by skillfully using the media to produce spectacular images and tourists’ desires; 5) driven by blockbuster exhibits that require more than simply art; 6) while provoking strong reactions from the art world of the host city; 7) following a politics of building promoted by local politicians; 8) which translates to the museum New York’s culture of the auction houses as well as Wall Street’s cycle of boom and bust.” Thus, it is quite clear that the MoMA’s expansion plans easily fit this description.

Robin Pogrebin, an arts reporter for The New York Times, states that “when a new home for the American Folk Art Museum opened on West 53rd Street in Manhattan in 2001, it was hailed as a harbinger for hope for the city after the September 11 attacks and for its bold architecture.” Clearly, the building was designed to encompass the importance of moral and ethical American values in a post 9/11 world with a severely impacted economy, partially as a result of an irresponsible Wall Street. It is important to note that prior to these events, the concept of museum Krensification was very much on par with the habits of a 1990’s Wall Street: exuberant, careless spending with very little accountability to hold corporations, or in Krens’ case, museums, back. Knowing this, it is plainly apparent how Krensifying has become a major

temptation for art museums to this day, though the extent is not nearly as great as it was then.

In the MoMA’s case, the Krensification of its architecture and spaces is perhaps not as obvious nor as ill-intended as it can be made out to be: the extra exhibition space is definitely needed to properly celebrate the museum’s vast collection, the Grey Box will add another dimension to performance art capabilities, and opening the sculpture garden to the public creates more interaction with the community, which is ultimately a main purpose of any museum. As the New York Times critic Michael Kimmelman asserts, “it would be truly radical for MoMA to save the former folk art building, but that’s not what the museum has ever really been about.

MoMA wants more gallery space, and the expansion that drives the planned demolition is just more MoMA madness.” However, there can be no doubt that MoMA’s plans have emphasized the value of maintaining a certain visual and architectural theme: MoMA officials seemed to stress the benefits of “seamless floor plates” and their hallmark “glass aesthetic.” Naturally, this sparked a widespread outrage within the art and architecture community, and thus the #FolkMoMA debate was born via social media.

While establishing the #FolkMoMA discussion did send a much needed message to New York’s architectural community about the worth of preservation and the dangers of controversial demolition, it did not necessarily subdue any of the ongoing Krensification frenzy.

Rather, that kind of news coverage is exactly what Krensification thrives on: “permanent collections [are] on the backburner, providing a brand name to what [is] truly important: spectacular architecture, the blockbuster exhibit, and flashy media reportage.” According to this definition, MoMA’s plans could easily be construed as full-blown, domestic Krensification despite any favorable, communally beneficial points of action their expansion may contain. Eventually, once the entirety of the museum’s renovation plans have been completed, MoMA will have a total of five buildings to exhibit their extensive collection in. After this, it will be hard for the museum to deny that they have been focusing nuartreview.com / winter 2016 / 22

▲ Axonometric plan of new building. Credit: DillerScofidio + Renfro

on glamorous architecture and space instead of the art itself, even if it was all for the purpose of being able to present more. In other words, “MoMA, far from being [an] outlier, has pretty much become like Extell and other midtown developers, waiting to gobble up property and expand its own shiny glass palace.”

While for now it seems that the MoMA has struck a fragile balance between preserving the dignity of its collection, fulfilling its public duties as a museum, and expanding in a mildly Krensified manner, the current renovation plans could just be the start of a slippery descent into blatant Krensification and prioritization of seductive exhibits and architecture over art history. Once the museum’s focus is set on the glamorization of their brand for both publicity and budgetary reasons, it becomes impossible to reverse the damage done to the art world’s psyche.

It would signify an ultimate change in the role of art museums, one that would not preserve the world’s ever-changing history of art, but rather one that would affirm and reiterate the museum’s primary 23 / winter 2016 / nuartreview.com

function as being a business getting by on its habit of brand building. Here, “the larger lesson is that a Krensified museum, [once] aware that it can no longer rely principally on its art treasure to attract visitors, [will] embrace openly the voyeurism of spectacular architecture as its trademark.” The concept is that the relentless renovation and/or expansion of any given museum, particularly one of the MoMA’s stature, changes public perception about what to expect from a museum, and therefore leads the museum into a never-ending cycle of chasing both audiences and bigger funds. As Kimmelman so aptly put it, “if you build it, they will come.”

The moment any renovation or expansion plans are announced by any museum, the institution instantly becomes Krensified, if only for a brief moment in its history, merely by the media coverage it generates. Therefore, “The Krensified museum exists everywhere in the media…this stunning presence by absence, desire by lack, is one of the hallmarks of a Krensified museum.” This phenomenon occurs purely because the museum’s

▲ A rendering of the planned 54th Street entrance for the MoMA. Credit: Diller Scofidio + Renfro

focus, and so the public’s focus, has shifted to concentrate on what is missing and still seen as needed as opposed to what is already had. In turn, this also transfers focus away from the artists themselves and their artworks, making it inevitable that the pieces and their creators slowly lose their prominence in the hierarchy of a museum. Artistic perceptions can make an unfavorable deviation: “unless it is spectacular architecture, art is clearly not the real thing. It is at best a humble maid to the entire hoopla.”

If isolated, MoMA’s expansion plans and demolition of the former American Folk Art Museum building can be considered well-intended and purposeful. However, if placed back into the larger context of the art world and a museum’s place in it, the demolition creates a questionable and potentially disrespectful precedence for museum renovations everywhere. The destruction of an iconic midtown building could create a pervasive preference to bulldoze for the sake of ease instead of finding creative adaptations of space. When addressed about

the issue, Billie Tsien, one of the original architects of the folk art building, shared her opinion on the matter: “museums have been opened and closed and buildings have shifted, but I don’t know about being torn down.” It is this exact sentiment of creeping unease that leaves the art community unsure of the MoMA’s true motives and of whether art museums will continue to serve their moral and ethical duties properly. ■ BIBLIOGRAPHY Bevilacqua, Matt. “Campaign to Crowdsource Ideas for Saving American Folk Art Museum Building” Next City. April 12, 2013. Accessed September 27, 2015.

Kimmelman, Michael. “The Museum With a Bulldozer’s Heart.” The New York Times. January 13, 2014. Accessed September 27, 2015.

Pogrebin, Robin. “12-Year-Old Building at MoMA Is Doomed.” The New York Times. April 10, 2013. Accessed September 27, 2015.

Zulaika, Joseba. “Desiring Bilbao: The Krensification of the Museum and Its Discontents.” In Learning from the Bilbao Guggenheim, edited by Ana Maria Gausch, 149-172. Reno: Basque Studies Program, 2005.

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