So you think you know Elvis? (The Art of Immersion)

I've been wanting to do this blog for... a while. Ever since my internship at VMFA in fall of 2011, I've been intrigued by the concept of viewing a person's life as "art." During my tenure at the museum, there was an exhibition on display called "Elvis at 21." There was a particular photographer, Alfred Wertheimer, who tailed Elvis up and down the East Coast throughout his 21st year. Elvis was right at the brink of his becoming "the next big thing" in the music world, and forever altering the face of Rock & Roll.

My internship at VMFA meant an hour and twenty minute commute to and from Richmond, VA every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, which was both challenging and exciting. To ease the gas mileage, I spread the word to family and friends about my weekend commutes and was introduced to Mark and Melody Roane, a blind couple that lived right in the heart of the museum district. Seeing the city through their "eyes" gave me an entirely different perspective I never would have experienced on my daily rush hour commutes. Through their hospitality, I was able to tour historic Carytown, sample a local favorite icecream parlor, Bev's, and partake in their stories, including the story of the miniature crystal train in the living room, a memento of their incredible wedding at the railway station in Richmond. By walking the streets of their neighborhood, I was able to immerse myself into the culture of this eclectic city rather than simply pass through. With every visit I fell more in love with its rich and unique history.

Being bequeathed by VMFA with the task of researching the King for the museum's docents, I became acquainted with two landmarks in particular, the Mosque Theater and the Jefferson Hotel. Wethereimer caught most of his quintessential shots at both of these locations, further intertwining Elvis with these historical sites in the city during this pivotal year. Below is a great shot of Elvis lounging at the hotel cafe with his date, signs advertising sandwiches for under 40 cents in the background.

I realize Elvis was an intriguing guy, but to put photos of him in a fine arts museum? Really? Art seems to be defined nowadays as something that alters the culture and our perception. For more on this, consider Marcel Duchamp, who tipped a urinal over, slapped a title on it, and set it up for an exhibition.

His three arguments for why "Fountain" could now be considered "art" were:




1. I found the object.
2. I changed it's perspective.
3. I gave it a new name.

More on Duchamp in a later blog...

However, through my friendship with Mark and Melody, I became more and more intrigued by the stories and places behind the people of Richmond. Elvis may have been an iconic pop figure, but for that short time in 1956 his story had become interlaced with the River City, so that its community now had a claim on him that was uniquely their own. He not only left his mark on the city, the city had also effected him.

I came to understand that this photographer's particular collection would not have held the same power over its viewers, had it been hosted in any other region. The buildings where Elvis stayed, the streets he walked, all of these had come alive because Richmond's locals knew them personally and that made them relatable. Elvis didn't just breeze through; he sauntered, enjoying the many simple joys that Richmond has to offer. The backstage crew at the Mosque Theater will tell you he took his sweet time as the curtains began to rise, mingling with his fans backstage. Wertheimer's photos convey a new way to create an impact. Art is personal and echoes through common experience.

Females in the Art World

Perform a search for female artists and you will undoubtedly come up with the same select few that have been repeatedly gleaned from the generic pool amassed over the centuries: Frida Kahlo, Artemesia Gentileschi, Mary Cassatt, Georgia O'Keefe, Dorothea Lange...

         Granted, there are several deserving women due their rightful place in a long succesion of the "greats," but I cannot help but feel historians have been grasping at straws when compelled to come up with female masters, particularly within Western culture. Spend any length of time searching and you will continue to encounter the same predominately white male demographic.

        “Genius” according to our sense of the term did not even exist during the Renaissance. During Renaissance times, women lacked the entitlements of “genius,” that is, she was a women living in a patrilineal culture, devoid of many rights endowed to men. However, it was the idea of “ingenium” that separated her from the art world, as she was fated to lack wit, and those other “inherited mental and physical talents that helped an artist conceive and execute his projects.”

         In the 1900's you will notice a sudden shift and outpouring of works accomplished by the female minority, many of which were pushing their own feminist agenda. Not that there weren't any to begin with, but the long neglected line of existing work had suddenly been given credence and a voice. What was taking place during this time period? Women's suffrages, the Civil Rights movements, and the Voting Rights Acts.

        Much of this "voice" in the art world began to be heard due to Linda Nochlin's short essay written in 1971, "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" If you're interested in reading the full essay, you can do so here: http://davidrifkind.org/fiu/library_files/Linda%20Nochlin%20%20Why%20have%20there%20been%20no%20Great%20Women%20Artists.pdf In her essay, Nochlin claims, "the fault lies in our institutions and our education." It was not that women lacked the desire or aptitude for art, but rather the means of execution afforded to the male artist seeking a lasting career of pursuing the arts.


The  response to this realization brought about the feminist art movement, a calculated uncovering of historical works of art created by women and a resurgence of female representation in the art world. The term was coined by Judy Chicago and perhaps the piece of work that best embodied this movement was her "dinner party," an installation depicting noteworthy women, symbolic and historic, who had a lasting impact upon Western civilization.

Let's take a look at a subtler form of art, brought about by an original pioneer of photography, Anna Atkins. Being a scientist, Atkins' did not set out to develop a new form of art. She simply found a creative process to preserve accurate botanical illustrations using cyanotypes, or "sunprints" to record her findings. And isn't that essentially what art is? An artist is presented with a problem and sets out to find a creative solution. My theory? There were many more female artists hidden in the shadows of history disguised as scientists, as authors, as nurses... The "genius" has always been there, although we haven't yet discovered all of the places in which to look.

Ode to Aaron Douglas

        While researching one of my favorite artists, I was elated to discover Aaron Douglas was a graduate of the University of Nebraska. When asked about his time at the university, he remarked, "I was the only black student there. Because I was sturdy and friendly, I became popular with both faculty and students." Born and bred in the midwest, Douglas eventually settled in Harlem and became a large contributor to the Harlem Renaissance art movement, a cultural eruption celebrating Negro heritage through literature, art, and music, that spanned the 1920's.

 

        Having received his bachelors at UNL in 1922, he went on to New York City, where he honed in his style as an artist and made his mark on American art history with his colorful murals depicting the African American's forced journey out of his homeland Africa to the forging of a new identity and culture in America that would follow. Douglas' work is rich with symbolism and many allusions to the Isrealite's bondage and exodus from Egypt. The sharp yet simplified profiles of his figures share a distinct similarity to ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. His work also reveals the heavy influence of industrialism and modernism of the time period upon his style. Douglas' usage of lighting and colors emphazise important images that  he wants to draw the viewer's attention to. Oftentimes several symbols are highlighted within the composition with bands or waves of light radiating centrifugally from noteworthy objects.
   
        Although the execution of their styles varied greatly, Douglas attributed much of his inspiration to becoming an artist to Henry Ossawa Tanner. One piece in particular, stood out to Douglas as a young child. The piece was entitled "Chist and Nikodemus" and was one of many religious pieces which Tanner accomplished during his lifetime. Douglas claimed to having "spent hours poring over it." Unlike Tanner, who eventually moved to Paris where his art would be more widely accepted and appreciated, Douglas received relative success within the United States.

        This brings me to one final thought in regards to this month being designated "Black History Month." I am genuinely curious of other people's takes on this subject. Morgan Freeman was noted to have said, "I don't want a black history month. Black history is American history." In your opinion, does the designation of one month to celebrate a specific race do more to help or hinder?                                                                                                                     

The Pan/Zoom Effect

It has been a while since I have visited an art piece from a strictly artistic perspective, so I wanted to revisit one of my favorite paintings of all time, Gericault’s “Raft of the Medusa.” I can’t particularly say why it is my favorite. Perhaps, it is mostly due to the fact that I can feel the victim’s emotions every time I see it. I can feel the water receding after the first impact, hear the sucking sounds around crowding bodies and sinking raft as my clothes are drenched and cling to my body. And being an avid sea-lover, I can feel my stomach surge, the impending lurch, almost with manic anticipation, as I brace myself for the crash that is about to set in with the oncoming wave. I love that...I miss that; paintings that suck you in and envelope you in a singular moment that stands out in your memory upon every re-visitation.

Over the centuries there has been a significant shift in the perspective of art. Do a Google search. Look up 18^th and 19^th Century paintings. Historically, you will see these grandiose images of epic battles, rolling hills, massive landscapes with multiple focal points and participants. Now look up 21^st Century art, or better yet, Google Pop Art. Stark contrast. The shift has transferred from panning out to zooming in, the widescreen shot to the up close and personal, from the collective to the individual. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the shift has increased the glorification and idealization of the individual and this is a grossly exaggerated version of man/woman. Andy Warhol is a prime example of an artist who pushed this new agenda...

I see this mindset in our culture every day. Think about how logos have been so simplified and streamlined. Many companies design their insignias to reflect the shape of an iphone app. I fear our focus grows narrower and narrower every day with a mounting addiction to identity. We are married to our phones, our laptops, and a steady stream of media. Consider the constant tweets, texts, status updates, facebook check-ins (guilty!) we insist on making on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis. I’m all for having a healthy awareness of self, but let it be tempered with perspective. Let us not sacrifice our scope of influence by allowing self to be our only focus. Allow yourself to take a step back from time to time to take in the full picture. Zooming in too closely without allowing room to breathe or gain perspective gives us a warped perception of our own significance in the grand scheme of things.

Xu bing:Tobacco Project

               Xu Bing, conceptual artist hailing from Japan interested in researching the effects and artistic composition of tobacco projects, has raised the art world into a whole new dimension. Upon entering his gallery, the viewer, is not only greeted by the visual stimuli of his aesthetics, but by the sweet pungent aroma of tobacco in its most natural form. This attachment to the public’s sense of smell serves to burn the overall effect of the exhibit into the memory of the viewer in a way that is arguably even stronger than that of sight. In an instant, the viewer could be transported to a past memory of their grandfather, an uncle, a father with a pipe. Xu Bing proves to us that art can be made with just about anything. At first glance his concepts seem fairly simple, but upon further inspection, it becomes apparent that the man does his homework. While in America, Xu Bing spent months in Virginia and North Carolina, studying the processes and techniques of refining these state’s highest cash crop. Xu Bing is what is known as a conceptual artist, which means he is an artist who comes up with an idea, which he then gives to a team of artists to set about its execution. Such was the case with one of his more finalized pieces, entitled Honor and Splendor. This massive “tiger skin” was assembled piece by piece, entirely out of cigarettes. The slanted cigarettes make for an intriguing texture and varied tones which create a pattern of orange and white. Xu Bing does not create his pieces as an advocate of smoking either; his father ironically died of lung cancer. Rather, he studies the product packaging, its potential in the art world, and how the product has changed over time. Xu Bing also combines art with text, dedicating an entire wall to different brand names of cigarettes along with his original notes for conceptualized designs for the public to view.

Mocha Dick

“They call me Ishmael.” This classic quip from Herman Melville’s timeless novel, Moby Dick, springs to mind upon the first viewing of the titanic white whale currently installed in VMFA. This iconic white whale, named Mocha Dick by artist Tristen Lowe, embodies the natural and pure world, inspirationally pitted against the cruel and careless Captain Ahab in an epic battle set on the stormy seas. Upon the reading of this novel, the reader realizes how perversely wrong the slaughtering of a creature as innocent and awe-inspiring as the white whale has become.

This particular whale is made out of a substance called "industrial" felt and is connected to a valve that keeps air continuously pumping into the enormous inflatable whale. Zippers that hold the large pieces of fabric together are cleverly guised as "scars" flowing along the sides of the whale and knobs of barnacles were fashioned onto its head for an added authenticity.

You Wish You Were an Egyptologist

VMFA opened their Mummy: “Secrets of the Tomb” exhibit this week, which I was able to preview last night. The experience was complete with a 3-d film surrounding the unraveling of the featured mummy named Nesperennub by the pathologists who studied the corpse using x-ray technology. I think we have all been mesmerized by the mysteries surrounding mummification and Egyptian beliefs at some point or other, but what gets me is all the time and energy that was poured into the deceased’s body by family and friends when “you can’t take it with you.”

Before ceremonial preparations could begin, the embalmer would begin by removing all “unimportant” organs, such as the brain with a metal prong through the nasal cavity. Next, the eyes, proving impossible to preserve, would also be removed and replaced by two metal or glass substitutes with which to see with in the afterlife. They would then move onto to the preservation of the more vital organs, in which the sons of Horus, the falcon god, were presumed to reside. These consisted of the intestines liver, stomach, and lungs. In order to reach these, the embalmer would cut a single square from the left side of the body and once the process was complete the incision would be covered with a metal plate, bearing the symbol of the wedjat eye, or the eye of Horus, considered to be endowed with healing powers for the arduous journey into the afterlife. The organs would then be placed into four corresponding canopic vases while the corpse dried. These would eventually be replaced to their proper places once the body had dried, along with four wax figurines that would safeguard the organs on their way to duat, or the netherworld. Once these painstakingly meticulous rituals had been completed, the embalmers would cover the body with a heavy layer of salts known as natron. The corpse would then sit idle for forty days in order for all the moisture to be absorbed by the salts.

The heart, the name, and the shadow of the deceased were considered to embody the person’s spirit entity. But the heart alone was thought to be the vessel where resided the “KA” (life force) and “BA” (personality) of the deceased and was protected by a heart scarab, inscribed with intonements which ensured that the heart did not betray its master when it stood judgment before Osiris. It was believed that the heart would be weighed against a feather upon a pair of golden scales and if the human were found to be guilty, the heart would then be devoured by a monster, known as Ammut, or “devourer of the dead.” A metal pectoral scarab would also be set over the chest, a symbol of the god Ra, as an added protection of the spirit. To complete the mummification process, the embalmers would anoint the mummy with precious oils and resin and move onto the opening of the mouth ceremony which was believed to reawaken the deceased and propel them into their new life. 

Of course this overview has merely scratched the surface of the many intricacies and scrupulous niceties that went into preserving an Egyptian cadaver, but that, my friends, is how you make a mummy.

.http://www.vmfa.state.va.us/Exhibitions/Mummy.aspx