Thursday, 28 February 2008

Week 2 - Power and the Image

The Museum of Modern Art New York



  • Established 1929
    Museum moved to current location on 53rd Street in 1939 by Nelson Rockefella, who later became Governor of New York in 1958

  • 2.5 million visitors per year

  • 1950s – model for American cities with aspirations of high culture and capitals of the free world

  • Houses some of the world greats of the Twentieth Century; Picasso, Cézanne, Van Gogh etc

  • Its library and archives hold over 300,000 books, artist books, and periodicals, as well as individual files on more than 70,000 artists

MOMA is described by Duncan and Wallach as that of an ‘architectural experience’, in which its content and subject consist of the activities commencing within its spaces. Its ceremonial architecture and floor plan mean to create its experience and impose particular consciousnesses with a definite structure and set of values, these being the incorporation of an ideology characterized by corporate Capitalism. This does seem unsurprising, after all the entire museum was founded by the Rockefella family, a particularly wealthy and elite clan whose members upwardly strove to such lofty administrative positions as the Governor of New York.

MOMA is identified as a ceremonial building in which to foster ritual, as would a place of worship. However, unlike a church whose exterior enhances its rituals by marking the iconographic program inside, MOMA does not. The objects within a church also serve this same purpose but MOMA’s walls are specifically built to house objects, with its architecturally created ritual added later. A space is made for the sake of walls and objects, thus the collection is not the iconographic program. The museum structures consciousness and ‘schools’ people to believe that they look at art objects within the museum, appearing to be a means (the housing of art objects) opposed to it's actual role as an end (a ritualistic practice). The objects indeed shape the ritual, yet they only become socially visible as art once determined by experts, thus becoming an iconographic program to be bought and sold on the art market.

Duncan and Wallach come to describe MOMA's exterior design as a clean, purified and efficient ‘new aesthetic’, its blank and impersonal appearance separating the public and the private worlds on a metaphoric level from the museums higher values and the city’s sidewalk. This architectural language depicts an age of corporate capitalism, a community reduced to a mass of individuals who value only subjective experience. The passage inside is greatly dramatized moving from the pedestrian world into MOMA’s higher values though only a glass membrane with no stairs, architecturally constructed to draw in visitors by removing psychological and physical barriers. Inside the large, lightened and open spaces present a heightened sense of choice of navigation with the museum's garden immediately ahead, large rooms for major retrospectives (such as Rauchenburg, Picasso) and smaller rooms for temporary exhibits. Yet this multitude is spatially disorientating and free choice becomes confusion, only to be comprehended once the main route of the permanent collection is experienced.

MOMA’s permanent collection is described to be a Labyrinth, the Western mythical construction whose architectural traits historically represent a cave to be walked through, the personages of woman and the notion of death and rebirth ending in triumph through spiritual enlightenment. It is the permanent collection that draws in the public yet its path consists of a succession of twists and turns through small cul-de-sacs creating a concrete depiction of a subjective History of Modern Art, an experience unavoidable due to the collections immaculate reputation maintained by repeated publications and press releases. It is this tactic that, despite the museum’s obvious faults has materialized such statements as ‘It has been singularly important in developing and collecting modernist art, and is often identified as the most influential museum of modern art in the world’ (1) and its viewing as an
'unparalleled overview of modern and contemporary art' (2). Whilst the museum suggests that an individual’s ability contributes with individual gifts of genius, the works actually conform to a historical pattern; a dogmatic laying out of ‘key moments’ in Art’s History. The most important works are framed by doors, acting as signposts to the authorized history, whilst the lesser pieces are often placed in corners. All in all the effect of a history of progressive dematerialization is evident through the succession of art movements. The collection’s foremost chronology surrounds Cubism, Surrealism and Abstract Expressionism with all other movements subordinate. Beginning with Cézanne, all ahead overshadow him with Picasso as the perennial figure, suggesting that as art progresses it improves, which is not necessarily the case. In the final room Art History receives freedom from the material world through the floor’s only window. The third floor immediately displays Guernica to depict the move from Cubism to Surrealism and the collection eventually settles at Abstract Expressionism, fulfilling the historical scheme that prophesized it. What is suggested is that the architecture exists for the individual pieces but the building is actually given its meaning and articulation from them, creating an illogical paradox. Even Michael Compton (Keeper of Education and Exhibitions at the Tate) admits that the collections are designed so that people ‘look at each painting for an average of 1.6 seconds…they can hardly be thinking anything but: ah, that’s an example of Cubism…they will never actually confront the individual painting’ (3) – a statement that suggests a ritual structured by the iconographic program opposed to the individual works.

MOMA's Sculpture garden
Speech is prohibited and the experience is private, strangers serve only to intrude. The luminous bare walls are unsubstantiated by comparison to the work on them; they exist outside of time and history. The gaze of the mother and the feminine find us through Picasso and Mondrian’s whores; upward striving consciousness is associated with male whilst a regressive and devouring unconscious is associated with the female. In fact, Wikipedia’s index of the masterpieces that the museum holds includes only
Cindy Sherman, Georgia O'Keefe and Frida Kahlo, with none others present. In the garden she is positive, fertile and procreative, yet in the Labyrinth creativity is the male norm. We are confronted with the notion that her land and water must be overcome to be enjoyed, to be experienced only after the enlightening task that is navigation through the Labyrinth, casting us as pure subjectivity. The final Abstract Expressionist experience is of the mystical and sublime in which spirit eclipses reason and the biological realm of the woman.

Overall what is projected is a structure of values and ideals in which the female spectator is a lived experience; need and love are apparent as mundane and vulgar, everyday experiences that must be renounced. Detachment from this may be resolved through enlightenment until only a timeless human condition remains. Abstract Expressionism concludes the collection to the visible the triumph of spirit, here only the visible is real creating a struggle of the material and spiritual, of the corporeal existence and the divine. It is an agent of alienation, an attribute acting as religion's equivalent to freedom, yet freedom in turn is the goal of artistic expression. Thus, this seclusive act takes its role as a modern substitute and is executed within MOMA's walls, the labyrinth is a realm of inversion, not transcendence, and the mundane returns. Owned by irrational powers, the upward individual striving of the modern world is mirrored inside, recreating a symbolic social experience that appears positive in the eyes of competition. What we see is a refuge from materialism, but the museum actually exalts the mundane values and experiences that it rejects by elevating them to the timeless and universal realm of the spirit, a contradiction in itself.

I cannot agree more on many of the suggestions that Duncan and Wallach bring forth, it is intrinsically obvious that there exists is a widened gap existing between the male and female artist in which masterpieces as associated with that of the male figure, and as suggested earlier in the course that a ‘woman artist’ is not in fact an artist but a separate entity. The inequalities and discriminations are evident and unjustifiable and the collection appears to backtrack and act as a paradoxical entity in relation to the aims that it seeks to achieve; however I must disagree with the rejection of the museum’s capitalist and corporate iconography and philosophy. The Twentieth Century Western World existed as a Capitalist culture, as does the Twenty First Century, and whether or not our current state is ethical or indeed right or wrong, it is our current economic and social situation. Considering this implication, is art not meant to mirror the zeitgeist of the time? It is true that the History of Modern art exists as a construct, and indeed this 'Indefinite Story' is entirely subjective to a handful of cultural elite, but by adhering to their narrow sensibilities and tastes we are simply viewing a depiction of the social situations of the Twentieth Century. In any case, we could not possibly receive a true and objective image of the History of Modern Art as no building on Earth would be able to house such a widened array of knowledge, and whilst it displeases me to say so, a narrow view is necessary to appeal to the masses, the tourist who expects a 'quick fix' opposed to a lengthy and arduous exploration of the visual arts. Unfortunately the museum is not wholly funded by the tax payer and must operate like a business; whilst the true nature of art practice is the notion of free expression, the corporations that house such marvels must make a profit in order to continue to bring us the triumphs of the last Century (or at least their version of it). The iconographical program may push around the viewer giving them the illusion of choice but does it not give the uneducated viewer a sense of direction? The text states that the educated viewer would most likely visit MOMA in order to view a specific exhibition whilst the tourist would be drawn in by the permanent collections. Duncan and Wallach inform us that those knowing little about modern art would find their confusion originating from their heightened sense of choice and the ambiguities of where to begin, whereas those knowledgeable in the arts may take from the museum what they wish and further pursue their research elsewhere. It is a matter of choice and selection and whilst I recognize the dogmatic and narrow collection of the MOMA, I believe that it presents us with a place in which to begin, to satisfy and inspire a further craving for knowledge and sensibility whilst presenting an accurate criticism and analysis of the misogynistic and corporate elitism of the Twentieth Century. For if we expect to be handed a widened view of the heights of artistic culture on a silver platter we are simply denying our compulsions to search for ourselves in order to quench our knowledgeable thirst.
(1) [(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Museum_of_Modern_Art) Kleiner, Fred S.; Christin J. Mamiya (2005). "The Development of Modernist Art : The Early 20th Century", Gardner's Art Through The Ages : The Western Perspective. Thomson Wadsworth, 796]

(2)
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Museum_of_Modern_Art)
^ http://www.newyorkartworld.com/museums/momamuseum.html.

(3) Duncan and Wallach, 'MOMA: Ordeal and Triumph on 53th Street', Studio International, 1976, pp. 53



Las Meninas




  • 1656 painting by Diego Velázquez

  • Oil on Canvas

  • Painted during the court of Philip IV of Spain

  • One of the most widely discussed paintings in Western culture

  • Creates an uncertain relationship between the viewer and the figures depicted

At first glance, Las Meninas appears to be a collection of individuals present within one scene; a painter, a girl, her maids, dwarves, a dog, a visitor and the reflection of a couple in the mirror. Initially we can take only this from the image, yet beneath such a simplistic analysis lies a collaborative web of delicate perceptions interlinking, connected by the relationships that lie between the observer and the observed. What we find here, if we take the time to observe is a vast array of meaning produced by the representation of space and the construction of a viewing position.

Foucault insists on the importance of objectively assessing the importance of all possible forms of perception, even of those that unseen to ourselves, that do not exist upon the physical plane. He presents to us the question; Are we seen or seeing?

Let us consider the canvas that the painter stands beside. From where we stand we cannot see what is on its face, is it finished or has it only just begun? Yet the painter's eyes gaze at us, grasping us and bringing us into the scene and onto the inaccessible face of the canvas, still ambiguous as to whether it is ourselves depicted it seems almost certain, yet we can never be sure due to its deceptive placement.

A light beams in through from the window on the right, settling onto both the represented space inside Las Meninas and onto the volume that we as viewers inhabit, which in turn makes the painter visible to us and vise-versa, aiding to establish the scene and making us explicitly aware that we are actually being observed within the act of observation, reversing our gaze into a dual action. However this light appears bend the laws of physics and seems to be very selective in its distribution of visibility; of the paintings on the back wall there appears to be little depth as they are shrouded in darkness. Only one is visible, housing two silhouettes offering what we are denied from the other paintings. The painting is actually a mirror but from its physical impossibility it is of no surprise that it may be mistaken for a painting, after all neither the painter not the other figures in the room are represented in it, it is modified only to show what is outside the painting and what the figures glare at. Thus we are presented with two figures who are unseen and possibly existing in the same space that we do creating what Foucault calls a 'metathesis of visibility' (1) affecting the space represented in Las Meninas and its representation. Ideally, since the painter gazes upon us as the subject of his painting we are allowed the see the doubly invisible - the image of what is both before the painting and on the face of the painter's canvas.

According to Foucault we must pretend not to know who is in the mirror to assess the reflection in its own terms; we know that this is a painting by Velázquez representing himself in his studio painting a canvas of Philip IV and his wife (who are indirectly visible within the mirror), whilst the Infata Margarita has come to watch with her entourage. However, this is not necessarily adequate in which to objectively asess the relationship of the piece's compositional structure to the meanings produced through our viewing position. Further afield, Foucault suggests that the 'relationship of language to painting is an infinate relation' (2), meaning that neither can be described using the other's terms, but must be used as equivalents and substitutes.


The mirror's image represents the reverse of the canvas, and reinforces the window's power, it too depicts what is outside of the painting, yet the window uses a cointinuous movement from left to right to unite the figures with what they are observing whilst the mirror instantaneously reaches out to the invisible observed rendering them visible to us but indifferent t oall other gazes.


Looking away from the mirror is a bright rectangle; a shining doorway revaling steps that seemingly lead to nowhere, the corridoor dissipated in light. On the limitless background we seea man holding back a curtain, he may be entering, leaving or observing but it is doing so without the attention of the others. He looks at us, possibly even appearing from where we stand. Un like the reflection he is real, he comes in and out simultaneously whilst the mirror creates an oscillation between the interior and exterior.


We now have a full cycle of representation opened by light; starting from the painter's gaze we percieve the back of the canvas, the paintings on the wall, the mirror, the doorway, several more paintings and the slit of the window. Of the eight characters in the scene five of them look outwards, the Infata occupying the vertical centre of the painting. As he face lies one third from the bottom of the piece she is identified as the principle theme of the composition, with two secondary figures leaning in towards her and two pairs of two figures on the right side, one of each looking out, becoming one pair. The following two diagrams can be deciphered in order to confirm the gazes of each figure/object. From this point we can see two possible entries



  1. a pivoting movement frozen by spectacle that would be invisible had not these characters offered us the possibility of seeing in the mirror the double the observe. Here the Infata is vertically superimposed onto the mirror whilst they both face forwards. From each there springs a line of vision, the mirror's long and the Infata's short, which meet sharply to mark where we stand. In short, we are determined by these two figures.

  2. What is in this space? Even the figures in the mirror contemplate this, it is a scene that looks out at a scene. The two stages of being observed and observing are uncoupled at the two lower corners; on the left is teh canvas which makes the exterior point into the spectacle and to the right is a dog who neither moves nor looks, acting only as an object to be seen.

We sense the presence of the figures' respectful gazes recognise of Sovereigns and recognise them in the mirror. They are the most pale and unreal of all the figures and their presence is ignored, yet despite this withdrawal it is their gaze that is the centre in which the representation is ordered, the Infata's and the mirror's becoming subordinate to it. They become the symbolically Sovereign centre due to their triple function, the superimposition of the model's gaze, the painter's as he composes and our own as we contemplate. Through this unity in relatioin to representation it cannot be invisible. Our reality outside the painting is projected within and defracted into three forms;

  1. on the left - the painter pallette as a self portrait

  2. on the right - the visitor ready to enter/leave viewing the royals spectacle

  3. the centre - the reflection of the King and Queen as richly dressed, motionless and patiert models

Representation represents itself through faces, eyes and gestures. Yet in this dispersion is a void, the disappearance of its foundation, the person it resembles and to whose eyes it is only a resemblance. Representation now freed from the relation that impeded it can become a resemblance in its pure form.


(1) Michael Foucault, 'Las Meninas' in The Order of Things: An Archeology of the Human Sciences, London, Routledge, 1996 pp. 8

(2) Ibid, pp. 9

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