Wayne Kimball, "Chairing Thanksgiving," 1982.

Just like that odd distant relative engaging you in awkward small talk for the entirety of the family dinner, Wayne Kimball’s quirky but meticulously crafted lithograph allows us a chance to appreciate that which often goes unnoticed or makes us uncomfortable. Kimball states, “My perceptions of certain past movements in art (most notably Northern Renaissance and Islamic Painting) coupled with idiosyncrasy…lead me to making some rather odd pictures…the compilation, arrangement and execution (and material quality) combine to hint at symbolic interpretations.”

Norman Rockwell, "Ours To Fight For, Freedom From Want," 1943.

Rockwell’s iconic image of the American gathering is more than likely etched in the back of everyone’s minds as we celebrate this season. Culturally significant now for its representation of American nostalgia, it was complementary in its own time to FDR’s “Four Freedom’s” speech given in 1942 to aid the war effort. This lithograph is based on one from a series of four themed paintings:  Freedom from Want, Freedom from Fear, Freedom of Speech, and Freedom of Worship (the Tenants of FDR’s speech).

Emile Bernard, "Le Moissonneur (The Harvester)," 1889.

Thanksgiving is said to have been born out of an English tradition of appreciative agrarians gathering as a community, not only to give thanks for their fall harvest, but also to rest and celebrate their hard work throughout the summer months. Bernard’s Breton farmers engaged in back-breaking labor to gather wheat from the field with their scythes. Bernard’s primitive technique and subject matter allows the viewer to be transported back in a time where the harvest was well-earned – where one didn’t go to the big-box store to grab a turkey from a freezer section, make stuffing from a box, or pick up a plastic wrapped Pumpkin pie and canned whipped cream.

Workshop of Jan Brueghel the younger, "The Sense of Taste," 1618.

This image is our urging of how not to eat today. Thanksgiving is a notorious diet breaker, and even the strongest-willed dieter can easily crumble at the mouth watering smell of Grandma’s homemade yams or Aunt Becky’s mashed potatoes. Jan Brueghel’s image contains a gluttonous feast, drunkenness, and if you look hard enough in the (bottom center left) you will see a small monkey. This is the artist’s representation of the devil being present in the scene (a common symbol in artwork during this time period). Lesson to be learned: Stuff the turkey, not yourself.

When I think of spring, I think of robins. Ever since I can remember, my mom and Nana had a contest every year to see who could spot the first robin. Forget that scrawny groundhog, the first red-breasted robin hopping around in the grass (or snow) meant warmer weather was just around the corner.

Here are a few works from our collection that remind me strongly of spring. What says ‘spring’ to you?

Birds | (verso) Studies for a Woman in a Hat

More!

Three Flying Birds

I’m not going to bore you with the over-confident analysis outlined in my paper. (I’m embarrassed at how much I thought I knew.) Nor will I link to my power point presentation. (I was a bit obsessed with animation and clip art). However, I will provide you with the final lines of my paper:

In the heart of the Midwest, the IMA is at a crossroads. The museum must shift from the modes of the last century to a marketing model that makes sense in this increasingly interconnected and competitive world. The marketing department of the Indianapolis Museum of Art must look beyond its peers in the museum field and use the lessons of the for-profit world in order to stay relevant. I am convinced that only when the IMA creates a world-class marketing department to accompany their world-class art collection will they be able to become a leader in the field.

It’s amazing to consider the perspective that time and experience can provide. I’m lucky to have been part of the museum during the last few years. From an ambitious building project to a rebranding campaign, from the introduction of Maxwell Anderson to the departure of many traditional management and communication models, the IMA has seen its fair-share of change since I began less than 3 and a half years ago. I’ve experienced a wealth of successes and challenges as a member of the IMA staff. No marketing class or even master’s degree could have prepared me for the experiences I have shared with my colleagues. As I look back on the museum I analyzed as a student it in no way resembles the museum I work for now. Sure many of the faces are the same, but the building, the brand and the IMA culture are all completely new.

In retrospect the thing that is the most remarkable to me, the thing that I never could have recognized as a graduate student is that this place is like a family. That’s why this week is especially difficult for me. Tomorrow is my last day at the museum. I’m leaving for a position at the Guggenheim. It’s a bittersweet decision. I love the IMA. I love our mission. I love the work that we do, and most of all, I love the people. As a girl from Southern Indiana, I’m proud that the state has access to such an amazing cultural organization, and I’m proud to have contributed to its mission.