Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Art and Design, 1848-1900

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: through May 19, 2013

I'll confess right away that I have a problem with the Pre-Raphaelites.   They're too emotional, too dramatic, too Romantic with a capital R for me.  If you've read Sense and Sensibility, they're all Marianne, and I'm all Eleanor.  However, they're all the rage at the National Gallery at the moment, so I'm giving them their moment in the sun.

As a bit of background, the Pre-Raphaelites (or Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, as they called themselves) felt unhappy about the industrialization of the Victorian era and looked back with admiration on an earlier, less industrial time in their art.  Now I'm quite in sympathy with their idea that mass-produced goods are not as fine or artistic as ones made by hand.  Where I part company with them is in the idealization of the Middle Ages.  They felt this was a purer, more artistic age, and I see how chivalry, and the poems of courtly love and knights in shining armor have their attractions.  I cannot help but remember, however, that the Middle Ages were ones of brutal violence and oppression, minimal intellectual advancement and no decent health care.

But enough of my quibbling, let's talk about the show.  First of all, know that this is ENORMOUS.  I lost count of how many rooms I walked through, each one full of pieces to examine and admire.  The paintings are terribly dramatic, but they are well done and quite colorful, always a plus, as far as I'm concerned.  The picture above is quite typical of their style.

My favorite bit came towards the end, with a room devoted to the decorative arts.  William Morris, who I have long admired, was part of the PRB, and he extended their artistic reach into furniture, wallpaper and tapestries.  The designs are wonderful; if you like William Morris, it's worth going to the show just to see these things.

Outside the show exit is a small gift shop set up to allow you many opportunities to purchase.  They have some beautiful things, including Williams Morris design umbrellas and coasters, among the requisite mugs and tote bags.

Note that there is a related exhibit on the Ground Floor called Pre-Raphaelites and the Book.  It features books illustrated by the PRB, published by William Morris and his Kelmscott Press.  As you might imagine, these tend to be stories of knights and ladies, as seen in the picture here.  Drawn from both the National Gallery's own collection and the collection of the University of Delaware, this is a nice accompaniment to the main show.




Verdict: If you like Pre-Raphaelite works, do not miss this colossal show.  If you find that a little bit of this goes a long way, you might want to skim.  Not doable in a lunch hour, unless you run through the rooms.

Color, Line, Light: French Drawings, Watercolors, and Pastels from Delacroix to Signac

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: through May 26, 2013

In the 1800s, almost all French artists drew, in addition to painting, and some of them drew quite a bit.  The improvements in papers and writing instruments made this more than merely pencil and paper exercises.  Artists were able to try out ideas for paintings without having to use up their canvases or oil paints, and many of the drawings were quite good.  Good enough, in fact, to warrant collecting on their own merits, aside from their famous creators.  James Dyke and Helen Porter did just that, and this exhibit is a selection of 100 drawings taken from their private collection and their gifts to the National Gallery.  The show gives a "tantalizing sense of the range of drawings" created by French painters in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

The show is divided into five sections, the first of which is "Romantic Impulse" - these works are meant to evoke feelings in the viewer with the use of color, sentiment and emotion.   Two drawings I liked very much were "Coastal Landscape" by Gustav Dore (I liked the purple color) and "Normandy Cliffs" by Eugene Delacroix (a simple watercolor, but it holds your attention).  In fact, although I was unfamiliar with Dore's works previously, I saw several drawings by him that I liked quite well.

The second section is "Natural Landscape and Everyday Life."  These artists sought to show nature and people as they really were, warts and all.  They wanted to show the natural world as it actually appeared, not as it might be idealized.

The third section is "Impressionist Drawings."  Although best known for their painting, the Impressionists drew as well.  I, of course, knew this already, having seen the "Pissarro on Paper" exhibit several weeks ago.  In fact, his "A Country Girl Seated on the Ground" appears here.  I know I've seen this before, and it must have been in the small Pissarro display.  I like seeing things I recognize; it reminds me of what I'm learning on these visits.

"The Nabis and Symbolists" move beyond a realistic portrayal of the natural world to show a less objective depiction of reality.  As you might guess from the name, these works are more symbolic than natural.

The show finishes with a section on the "Neo-Impressionists," who used dots of pure color in their works.  If you're thinking of Georges Seurat, you've got the right idea.  I was reminded of my trip to the Art Institute of Chicago in this room.  The idea is that, as you stand farther away from the work,   the colors blend optically to make the piece come together.  I liked several pieces by Paul Signac, another artists with whom I was previously unfamiliar.

Verdict: Certainly not a splashy as the Pre-Raphaelites exhibit (about which more presently), but interesting nonetheless and far more manageable on a lunch hour.

Out of the Ordinary

Where: Hirshhorn Museum & Sculpture Garden

When: through May 19, 2013

I went to see this exhibit on a Saturday, the first time I'd been to the Hirshhorn on a weekend.  I found it far more crowded than usual, so my guess is that modern art appeals more to locals, who are working during the week, and less to tourists who don't have such restrictions, as they are on vacation.  The number of people didn't really change my view of the Hirshhorn - an ugly building filled with some very questionable artistic choices.  This show, although no where near so ridiculous as some I've seen here, didn't prompt me to alter my views.

The exhibit, composed entirely of works in the Hirshhorn's own collection, demonstrates that copying, faking and duplicating are works of art in and of themselves, and I was, of course, reminded of the National Gallery show I'd just seen on manipulation in photography.  One of the first pieces I saw was Katharina Fritsch's "Display Stand with Madonnas."  It's hard to improve on the title's description, but I'll say that there were LOTS of Madonnas, and they were all painted bright yellow - I couldn't help but think that they were terribly festive and Easter-y looking.

I was puzzled over Rachel Whiteread's "Untitled (Yellow Bed, Two Parts)" which is made entirely of dental plaster.  Okay, I thought, it's certainly well done - one would never guess that what looks like a bed is really made of dental plaster, but WHY?  Why make a bed out of dental plaster?  Who wakes up one morning and decides - that's what I want to do today!

Christo made an appearance - if only a small one.  His "Green Storefront" is a shop window which is wrapped so you can't see what's in the window.  Quite small potatoes for Christo; I think the wrapping as art only works if it's on a monumental scale.  I also saw a video (?) by John Gerrard entitled "Grow Finish Unit (Eva, Oklahoma)."  This is really a 3D animation, so I'm not sure video is the right word.  I'm pretty sure I saw a show of his work at the Hirshhorn several years ago; it's interesting as a technique, but nothing happens, and after a while, you just lose interest and walk away.  I can't quite remember what the point of it was, but I'm sure there was one...

Finally, several photographs by Nicki S. Lee were on display, including a couple I'd seen in a National Gallery show just a couple of months ago.  I like her stuff, so I was happy to see it again, as well as some pieces that were new to me.  The only problem is that there was no explanation of her work given.  If you didn't know that she disguises herself and joins various societal sub-groups, you wouldn't understand the photos.  I guess that's the advantage of being able to see lots of shows.

Verdict: It's the Hirshhorn, so you know I won't be telling you to rush right out and see this, but if you're there anyway to see DEMOCRACIA, you can add this on easily.

One Life: Amelia Earhart

Where: National Portrait Gallery

When: through May 27, 2013

Just next door to the Archives of American Art exhibit space is the room dedicated to the displays in the "One Life" series.  The Portrait Gallery chooses one notable American to highlight, with a biography and numerous portraits.  The current choice is Amelia Earhart, whose quote, "I chose to fly the Atlantic because I wanted to" opens the show.

As with all exhibits, I learned some things: Earhart designed clothing, in addition to being a pilot.  She adapted wingnuts into buttons and made buckles from ball bearings.  She became friends with Eleanor Roosevelt; they shared an interest in women's rights.  She was married, but judging by a letter she sent her husband accepting his marriage proposal, she would much rather be flying than living a domestic life.

She died when she was only 40 years old; a shame, as she would certainly have done more with her life, had she lived.  Her remains have never been found, which, since numerous people have taken some very sophisticated equipment to do just that, makes you realize just how large the Pacific Ocean really is.

Verdict: Yet another worthy entry in the "One Life" series - easily managed in a lunch hour.

A Day at the Museum

Where: Archives of American Art

When: through May 16, 2013

Before I started going to the Smithsonian on a regular basis, I had no idea there even was an Archives of American Art, let alone that they put on exhibits. 

Their exhibit space is one rather small room in the American Art Museum, but they make the most of it.  Each time I enter for a new show, I'm struck by how different the room looks from the previous display.  It's not just that they've put new materials in the display cases, they've painted the room a new background color and have put up new material on the one large wall.  I give the curators a lot of credit for what they're able to do in a small space and with almost no fanfare.

And it's not just that they decorate the room nicely, although that's what I always notice first.  Most of their shows involve the papers of artists, as opposed to their artwork, and this can be a bit dull.  Even the most interesting person's letters are only of so much interest, especially if you're only seeing one or two letters and not a full record of their correspondence.  The people setting up these displays do an excellent job of telling a story and letting the papers add to it - they add the visual impact that papers, by their nature, tend to lack.

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you can well imagine my delight at the idea of an exhibit on artists' reactions to museums.  Other than going to museums myself, nothing's better than discussing museum exhibits with others, or reading about other people's reactions to museums.  Now I would be able to go to a museum to learn about how other people enjoyed their trips - makes my head spin a bit to think about it, but a grand time for me, nonetheless.

My favorite quote from the show is from Paul Cadmus, "...but I would never travel just to see the Grand Canyon because there are no paintings there."  Although I love to see beautiful scenery, and I've wanted very much to go to see the American West (especially since seeing the exhibit on photographs of the American West at the American Art Museum several years ago), I do know what he means.  A trip featuring nothing but scenery would wear on me; a trip featuring nothing but museums would never get old.

I also enjoyed William Penhallow Henderson's cutting remarks on smelly Parisian tourists in the Louvre and Richard Tuttle's letter saying that gallery hopping, "threatens to become a habit."

If you love museums, and enjoy the thoughts of others who do as well, this is a great exhibit.

Verdict: A wonderful show, easily managed in a lunch hour.

Faking It: Manipulated Photography before Photoshop

Where: National Gallery of Art, West Building

When: through May 5, 2013

Photoshop has become such a part of our lives now, that we have to remind ourselves that it was not always so easy to manipulate photographs.  Before you could change images with a few clicks of a mouse, you had to spend hours in a darkroom to achieve such effects.  This exhibit at the National Gallery takes us back in time to explore the world of "fake" photography - where seeing isn't always believing.

The first use of manipulated photography was to make up for the early limits of the medium.  Gorgeous landscape photographs lacked any definition in the sky, so photographers used two different negatives to make one picture.  It's fake in the sense that it isn't one picture, it's two in combination, but it's clearly meant to give a more realistic idea of the subject than regular photography of the time would permit.  Of course, once you can alter photographs to make them more realistic, you can also alter them to improve on reality.  Postcard photographers would combine images of a city in order to create a perfect view - just like the painters of "view paintings" that I saw at the National Gallery last year.  Photographers added color to their subject's face or created group photographs by taking pictures of people one by one, and then putting all the photos together.

The problem is that once you start improving on reality, where does it end?  What can the viewer trust to be true?  The exhibit does not back away from the dark side of photography, and devotes an entire section of the show to the uses it has been put to by politicians and other demagogues.  The photos that stuck in my mind from this portion are the ones from the Stalin era, as one by one, followers who fell out of favor were removed from an official photograph.  The truly frightening thing is not that these people were removed from a photograph, but that they were removed permanently in life as well.  Photographs can be used to move public opinion, and when images are fake, public opinion can be moved in terrible directions.

The final section of the show concentrates on photography as an art form.  Yes, the images are faked, but that's obvious to all but the most naive viewer.  Note that there is a sucker born every minute - William Mumler created ghost photographs, which he told the credulous depicted their departed loved ones.  Happily, he was eventually arrested on charges of fraud and larceny.  Others, however, used the medium with no intent other than to create works of art.  The photo pictured above is one by Yves Klein, which I saw at his big retrospective at the Hirshhorn several years ago (pre-blog, in fact), called Into the Void.  I was quite underwhelmed by Klein's work, but I liked this shot - I find it clever.  I'm sure it's meant to represent a man trying to kill himself, and should therefore be depressing, but I find it exhilarating somehow, as if the man is flying out of the window, and about to take off into the wild blue yonder.

Verdict: This is a good show - well organized and thought-provoking.  It's manageable in a lunch hour, but if you want to linger over any of the photographs, it will take a bit longer than a mid-day break.