So, where does the IMA fit in?

Well, in addition to all of the perks above, 2011 pass holders can gain free admission to two of the IMA’s special exhibitions, Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial and Dynasty and Divinity: Ife Art in Ancient Nigeria.

Not only is spending time in these special exhibitions worth at least a couple of summer days, but with free general admission, free gardens and grounds, free tours and a selection of free programming, there is much more to do and see at the IMA. Check out our online calendar to see some of the upcoming events.

The pass can be purchased anytime on IndyGo.net or via IndyGo customer service. Hop on Routes 34 or 38 and you’ll hit a stop right at the Museum. Hope to see you around this summer!

"Heaven and Hell on Earth," 1995. Corn husks, corncobs, dried mushrooms, roots, burned wood, clothing, bedding, toys, wire, metal, fabric, Christmas tree ornament, rope, carpet, paintbrush, other found materials, oil, enamel, spray paint, and industrial sealing compound on canvas on wood. Collection of the Souls Grown Deep Foundation.

In the same way, to talk about Thornton Dial, to consider the artist’s place both removed from and edging into the mainstream art world, to put into context his work and view of the world, and relate it to broader truths about American art, culture, history,  and values—it’s an exciting  and meaningful challenge.  But Rome wasn’t built in a lunch hour lecture.  So we’re giving it a day.

This Friday at the Toby is the big event:  Hard Truths: A Forum on Art and the Politics of Difference.  It’s not a straight-forward symposium.  There will be a podium, yes, and a succession of first-rate deep thinkers who will approach the topics of the day from a variety of fascinating perspectives.  But discussion sessions will also keep things very lively.

For example, Julian Bond, American civil rights all-star, will connect Dial’s experience and presentation as a black artist to the history, present, and future of the modern civil rights movement. Bond will then go straight from the podium into a conversation with forum speaker Greg Tate (his talk title: Neo-hoodoo Imaginations and Hollering Bebop Ghosts in the Southern Black Visionary Tradition). Important thinkers from the local community have also been invited, such as Roderick E. Bohannan, attorney with Indiana Legal Services, Inc., who will join Bond and Tate onstage. Audience members will be welcome to join in. IUPUI professor Modupe Labode will moderate these open discussions.  It’s fair to anticipate a slew of audience members with arms up in the air ready for the next available microphone. And each session’s speaker and discussions with take the conversation down another exciting path.

Moving from one talk to the next, we may find ourselves wishing for a moment to return to a topic that was deferred due to time. There will be great opportunities to revisit. First among these: included with the forum ticket is admission to the Dial exhibition. I’m telling you, you need more time in there. Later, after a nice break for dinner, Forum speaker Theaster Gates and ensemble The Black Monks of Mississippi will take the stage (again, included with the forum ticket) to perform And the Whole Yard Said Amen in response to Dial and the day. What happens when you intertwine the sounds and moods of southern gospel and eastern chanting and add a layer of blues? Come and find out. To further celebrate all this, we’ll next move from the Toby to a catered reception in the museum’s Nourish Café. Great conversations will recommence.

Hope to see you there. We need to talk.

A visitor to "Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial" using the TAP tour.

Today I’m trying out our hand-held TAP tour. The TAP tour is a mix of audio, video and picture content on an iPod Touch. It guides patrons through the exhibition, giving them additional information to enhance the experience. I did my best to read every label, give every painting a sufficient amount of time, and listen to each sound bite, but that’s not necessary. If the exhibition is laid out well (just as this one was) then you flow through it, feeling a slight current supporting you the entire way.

Opening yourself up is not always easy, and this art is not the most approachable in the building. Dial’s work reminds me of the I Spy books used to pacify me on long cars rides growing up. The art isn’t childish by any means, but the complexity is there and the longer you look—the more you see. It’s grouped in a way that makes sense and the TAP tour explained everything I didn’t understand.

All the paintings were 3-D assemblages of objects Dial found or created. There were also sculptures of a similar origin. Cow skeletons, bed frames, corn stalks and a goat carcass make their way into various sculptures dominating the floors while paintings with crutches, dolls and fencing span the walls. There are drawings of Princess Diana, Monica Lewinsky and Florence Griffith Joyner.

The last room held, as my TAP told me, “musings on the tenacity of the human spirit.” This exhibit told a difficult tale but this story ended on a light and resilient note, more of a “happy honesty” than the “hard truths” found in earlier rooms.

When I was in elementary school my parents read The Chronicles of Narnia to me and my brother at bedtime. In the books, four children explore a fantasy world by transporting through different portals, chiefly a large Victorian wardrobe. It’s difficult for me to explain how I feel before, after and during an exhibition. But I think it’s something like stepping through that wardrobe; exploring a different and unexpected world that can be beautiful, possibly scary, but always interesting. When I exited Hard Truths, only an hour has passed, but I felt like I’ve traveled very far. My point is–there is something deeply calming about getting away; going through the proverbial wardrobe and exploring the beauty of something that you’ve never conceived.

Dial states, “You can hide the truth, but you can’t get rid of it. When the truth come out in the light, we get the beauty of the world.” I think that art is truth.

"Everybody's Welcome in Peckerwood City," 2005, Doormat, cardboard, wood doors, steel, tin, bed frame, wire fencing, cloth, wood, towel, enamel, and spray paint Collection of the Souls Grown Deep Foundation. (front)

When I first saw this piece, it stood out because it was so different from the dense thickness of Thornton Dial’s other works. The series of doors are almost playful and are painted in green, blue, and white.  There is even a welcome mat before one of the doors. The work brings to mind the fabled tradition of Southern hospitality, in which no one is made to feel a stranger. Going to the other side of the work I was faced with a tangle of raw wood, wires, nails, boards, and rags. Two strange red and white figures creep amidst the disorder. It is only when I returned to the other side of the work that I saw an ominous pool of red, seemingly oozing from behind the doors.

"Everybody's Welcome in Peckerwood City," 2005, Doormat, cardboard, wood doors, steel, tin, bed frame, wire fencing, cloth, wood, towel, enamel, and spray paint. Collection of the Souls Grown Deep Foundation. (back)

Thornton Dial named this work Everybody’s Welcome in Peckerwood City. The doors evoke a famous scene in civil rights history. On June 11, 1963, Governor George Wallace addressed journalists gathered at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa. Wallace was a skilled political showman who championed white supremacy and denounced federal interference in state affairs, including enforcement of civil rights laws. In his inaugural address a few months earlier, the governor called Alabama the “Heart of the Great Anglo-Saxon Southland” and promised “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.” On the June day when two African American students were to register for classes, George Wallace showily denounced the federal court order desegregating the university, delivered a speech denouncing the federal actions, and then stood solemnly in front of the doors to an auditorium. Wallace’s actions immediately became known as the stand at the schoolhouse door. The students ultimately registered for classes and one of them, Vivian Malone, became the first African American graduate of the University of Alabama.

George Wallace at University of Alabama, June 11, 1963.

In her essay in the Hard Truths exhibition catalogue, curator Joanne Cubbs describes the tangled back view of Everyone’s Welcome in Peckerwood City as evoking a horror show. Cubbs words resonated with me because when I read about life in Jim Crow America, “horror show” often seems to be the term which best captures the trials that everyday black people endured. What other term explains a society in which ordinary activities—taking the bus, walking home, or going to Sunday school—could suddenly end in humiliation, torture, rape, or disappearance? In the face of such horror, many whites were complacent or confused, while others endorsed the violent, racist social order. When African Americans organized and protested against injustice, some whites counseled patience, advice which led Martin Luther King, Jr. to write Letter from Birmingham Jail.

African American protestors against George Wallace.

Thornton Dial had his own encounters with horror. He told Joanne Cubbs about an incident which informed his work Joe Louis (1998). When he was a young man living and working in Bessemer, Alabama, his car stalled on a rainy evening. Two policemen, instead of offering assistance, attacked him.  Thornton Dial recalled, “I thought that I had help until they said, ‘You’re under arrest,’ and started to beat me up.  The police are supposed to help you, but they beat me bad. . . I thought they were going to kill me.”

The title, Everybody’s Welcome in Peckerwood City, strikes me as especially acidic. I’ve heard the term “peckerwood” used without irony only a few times in my life and it was usually said by African Americans who were old enough to have been adults in the 1940s or 1950s.  They employed the label contemptuously to describe a white person who despised black people. They had lived through a time when using that word to a white person’s face would have meant risking one’s health or life.  Thornton Dial surely knew the weight of that word when he named his work.

Thornton Dial’s work is too rich to reduce to historical illustrations or examples of how the past influences the present.  But it is evident that Thornton Dial deploys history with the same vision and the same sure and delicate hand that he uses when transforming found objects into art.

And it’s true. All of Dial’s paintings are 3-D so they present lighting challenges your average still life wouldn’t; but this exhibition makes no claims of being average and Carol has been doing lighting for 13 years. In fact, nearly every single light throughout the IMA galleries has been personally screwed-in by Carol Cody—that’s a lot of bulbs.

Dial’s show alone has around 500 fixtures. These lamps are chosen and adjusted after the pieces have been installed, giving it a final touch. Every light has a filter and Carol layers screens over lamps to dim them. She is part of the process from the beginning. The Lighting Designer has to collaborate with everyone else on the exhibition to “tell the story” as best as possible.

Carol took expert care in washing warm light into the room filled with work depicting the Southern Past. Bright light further excites Dial’s tributes to African American Yard Art and the creative spirit. Dimmer lamps kept the mood of the drawings room more restful. “I angled the light at the floor, with the light wood you get a lot of bounce and that way it doesn’t affect the art as much.”

Light exposure can degrade a piece of art, that’s why it’s regulated so closely and why you can’t take flash photography in a museum. Part of Carol’s job is understanding the conservation issues surrounding a work. The most difficult things to light are textiles and paper, because they’re more delicate and can fade. The easiest things to light are objects, especially stone or metal, which are hardier.

The role of lighting, as I understand, is to best display the message that is already being communicated. It takes care, precision and an aerial lift. Carol designs the lighting, as well as maintains it. With 10,000 square feet in the special exhibitions space alone, it’s a big job. But she keeps us out of the dark one bulb at a time.

Mr. Dial at the opening of the exhibition, "Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial." Photo by Tad Fruits.

The first time I learned about Thornton Dial was last fall in my Introduction to Museum Studies course at IUPUI.  As preparatory work for a visit to the IMA, my class watched the documentary Mr. Dial Has Something To Say, which is now continually on view in the Davis Lab.  I highly recommend it!  Knowing all of the work he has accomplished in his life, I was overwhelmed when my boss, Cliff, told me that I was to escort Mr. Dial around the museum the morning that Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial would open.

On Thursday, February 24^th, I stood in the the Efroymson Family Entrance Pavilion with butterflies in my stomach.  Let me tell you, the anticipation of meeting a person you know to have such strength of spirit is extremely intimidating.  Then I met Mr. Dial, and though his spirit is just as strong as I thought it would be, his personality was amazingly warm and inviting.

As we moved into Hard Truths, Mr. Dial saw, for the first time, his life’s work exhibited in a way that truly represented the emotion and care that exists in each of his pieces.  He released a sigh, as though he had been holding his breath for twenty years.  It was like friends meeting again after a long separation.

Though I was a silent observer, I was able to share an amazing experience with Mr. Dial – both of us seeing, for the first time, the most extensive and complete exhibition of his artwork to date.  “You made it so beautiful,” Mr. Dial kept saying.  Joanne Cubbs, Adjunct Curator of American Art, would continually reply, “You are the one who made it beautiful.”  Walking with Mr. Dial was both amazing and humbling, and it made me appreciate his work and skill all the more.

Something that will stay with me is that when he spoke, though his voice was soft, everyone listened.  People didn’t just stop talking out of courtesy or because Mr. Dial was the man of the hour, although he was that.  People listened to what he said.  They listened because when Mr. Dial spoke, he said things.  His words, filled with stories and emotions, are windows into his artwork, and his artwork acts as windows into life.  His artworks tell stories that really say things. When you walk into Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial, I hope you take the time to discover his stories for yourself, because each piece really does have something to say.

While examining the model I was guided by David Russick, the IMA’s Chief Designer. He’s one of the many people who put in countless hours to facilitate the connection between art and the viewer—a rigorous labor of love. It changes for each exhibition, but generally, the planning begins 12-14 months in advance. The model is necessary because the museum doesn’t use the same gallery layout over and over, far from it. “It’s like at the zoo,” explains Russick, “you know what animal you’re putting in the cage. You build the best environment for that animal.”

The gallery is completely redesigned; walls knocked down, moved, rebuilt and re-colored. My mother went through 27 color swatches before we finally painted our kitchen “French Pastry”–I couldn’t imagine what a gallery goes through. “Color is infinite; it could be the hardest thing we deal with,” explained Russick. All of the lighting changes as well. Dial’s work is largely 3-D, so it casts shadows on itself, a lighting director’s challenge/opportunity/nightmare. Every light’s type and position is represented on the model and they are painstakingly adjusted to best suit the works.

Miniature Art of Alabama

Some people are too afraid or disinterested to attend museums. They think, as Russick puts it, “Museums are for someone else.” Museum-non-goers could feel unwelcome. “But for years we’ve been saying, ‘Please come visit us! Just come one time—you won’t be intimidated.” And, as I now see, there’s a legion of people whose job is solely to make the museum as approachable and welcoming as possible. They do everything possible to display art the best it can be displayed. We want /need people to come and endless hours are put into making sure anyone would be glad they did. We can put on the best exhibition in the galaxy but, as Russick says, “If there is no one here to hear it, we don’t make a sound.”

Meg Liffick is the Assistant Director of Public Affairs here at the IMA. Meg and her team tightrope a difficult role between the curator and the museum-goer. The curator, as I understand it, is the head-of-household in the gallery and the coming/going/hopefully staying artwork is his or her children. It’s the curator’s job to know the artwork inside and out. It’s Meg’s and her teammates’ job to translate that expertise to a viewer who doesn’t know anything about the artwork or any artwork for that matter.

So how do they do it? How can someone be motivated to come to an art museum? Well, they have a few tricks up their sleeve.  Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial is our most recent exhibition/huge marketing undertaking. Dial is an extremely bold artist. You won’t find political, social or historical commentary listed as any of the many materials Dial employs in his art, but they’re there. Because Dial’s work embodies such strong emotions, it’s the very kind of art some people are afraid of. It can make you uncomfortable—not because it’s vulgar or offensive–but because you might not know how to feel at first. We’re used to the art of the snap judgment, not the art of the deeply expressive Alabama welder.

Thornton Dial. Photograph by David Raccuglia.

All of our marketing materials (brochures, posters, radio spots, etc.) are designed here. “We do everything in-house. Everything.  That’s what’s special about the IMA—we all collaborate, no one does anything alone.” says Meg.

The marketing around the city for Hard Truths pushes the story or experience of the exhibition and Dial, himself. Meg explains, “Once they’re on-site we allow people to form their own perspective, but we need to give people a reason to come initially.  We wanted to communicate that these works were largely 3-D.”

"Stars of Everything," 2004, 98 × 101. 1/2 × 20. 1/2 in., Collection of the Souls Grown Deep Foundation.

The people involved with the IMA’s marketing have to create a way to honor and advertise the art, however, most -  if not all of them – don’t have formal art history training. Meg explains, “We don’t have art backgrounds, but we can communicate passion.” This exhibit is a completely different experience; one that not everyone would jump at initially. But it’s still relevant. It’s important to have some surprises in life, to (as our radio spots encourage) “Be amazed.” “Be inspired.”  I think Meg says it best, “Museums are here to fulfill the need that you have of finding spirituality, creativity and inspiration.”

These moments of observation are significant in service to the mission of the museum, and can potentially provide a collateral glimpse into the inner workings of creative practice.

In the summer of 2009, I was fortunate to accompany Conservation Department colleagues, Richard McCoy and Kathleen Kiefer, on a visit to Georgia and Alabama. The purpose of my presence during the trip was primarily to create documentation related to the evaluation and condition assessment of Thornton Dial’s works prior to the Hard Truths exhibition.

We chose to drive down from Indiana, as I loathe flying with every fiber of my being, and it was an opportunity to immerse ourselves in all things Dial along the way…audio interviews, books for the non-driver, and music steeped in southern culture and history. Setting the proper tone and knowing your subject are so important for interviews and photography, and we spent our driving time together reflecting on one man’s life and how his art connects us all through his personal experiences and vision.

Our days in Atlanta, prior to the scheduled Alabama visit, were a great occasion to spend some quality time with Mr. Dial’s assemblages in person, and provided a precursory opportunity for us to experience the works of art that will inform the photography process.

The grueling temperature of the Georgian warehouse in July was a test of will, antiperspirant, and intellectual mettle, seemingly akin to a purification of the mind, body, soul, and spirit. The sweat lodge effect was less than ideal, but we clearly understood its role in the South and the appropriate lesson that was layered into our collective experience of Mr. Dial’s art.

The most provocative portion of our travel was the end of the week outing to Bessemer, Alabama to meet Mr. Dial…and the only opportunity we had to interview and photograph him at the Dial Metal Patterns facility.

There was no guarantee I would have the opportunity, but my hope was to photograph him in his studio for publishing and media projects related to the exhibition.

Accompanied by collector Bill Arnett, Kathleen, Richard and I made the three-hour drive with anticipatory glee, as this was the moment to apply our research toward meaningful exchange and content creation efforts.

Due to the heat, we spent fewer moments as a group in the main workspace of the open-air building, but I was able to capture images of Mr. Dial’s studio space, as well as details of his art supplies, studio floor, etc. – anything that speaks to the artistic process, the artist’s intent, and can inform a broader portrait of the artist himself.

Although I was initially disappointed with his absence in the studio, we instead found ourselves gathered in a small air-conditioned office. This was a more comfortable, intimate space for conversation and I was awed by Mr. Dial’s quiet confidence, patience with both our questions and periodic bursts of my flash unit.

What caught my eye immediately was the United States map on the wall and I made quick work to ensure this element was included in a series of images while Richard and Kathleen interviewed him.

A succession of images followed during this period – his hands, shoes, expressions, etc., were all significant in building a visual narrative for multiple purposes at a later date. A single image from this grouping appears in the exhibition catalog, rendered as black and white, and the entire set of images has been posted to the IMA Flickr page.

Our time in Alabama with Mr. Dial, his wonderful family, and Bill Arnett only spanned a few hours, but it was clear we were in the presence of an American treasure – a soft spoken genius of intellect and creative purpose. His truth is our truth, as difficult as it may be; it is a truth worth telling.

Thornton Dial presents his perspective on the big issues of our time – from current events that speak to him from a constant stream of news television to the resulting impact of social issues in our nation’s history – through his incredibly layered and symbol-rich work.  The lack of abandon he demonstrates with his choices of materials builds upon traditions found in African American yard art, re-purposing salvaged items while still mindful of their previous incarnations.  As he stated, “I only want materials that have been used by people, the works of the United States, that have did people some good but once they got the service out of them they throwed them away. So I pick it up and make something new out of it.”

Throughout the course of the exhibition, we’ll be featuring a series of blog posts inspired by Thornton Dial – not only discussing his art, but also exploring the larger topics he references in his work.  We’ll also look at the many ways that staffers at the museum work on the exhibition, and how these behind-the-scenes stories contribute to the whole. Stay tuned!