Art can be selfish. I definitely have times when I’m writing “just for me” because performing your art without an audience can be extremely therapeutic. I think that’s why so many people are silent in galleries—they don’t want to disturb anyone so everyone can have their own experience; effectively making each piece you pass “just for you.”

I don’t think Julianne Swartz had me in mind when she constructed Terrain, but maybe I was more in the process than one would think. Terrain is a contemporary work that was originally in the Efroymson Family Entrance Pavilion but has been re-strategized to spider web the Caroline Marmon Fesler Gallery in the Contemporary Art Collection. It has a network of speakers that hang over head from a rainbow of wire.

The speakers play the voices of 37 different volunteers whispering. They start and end on their own accord and echo thorough out the space. As you move through the room and pick-up on varying voices it’s like you’re the conductor of 37 hushed ghosts. Basically, it’s really creepy. Logging time in the gallery, I watched quite a few people enter, get freaked out and leave. However, those who stay just long enough to read the label are rewarded.

The exhibition’s label tells you that the ghostly voices were instructed “to think of someone for whom they feel tenderness and to recite what they would whisper in his or her ear.” Very quickly the whispering doesn’t seem so haunting–it’s loving. “The murmuring mass of voices is largely indiscernible; however, in certain moments private intimacies can be distinguished, such as the words ‘I love you.” While some patrons may continue to drift in and out in various levels of spooked, these hushed voices give me the feeling of wrapping myself in a blanket.

My favorite speaker hangs near the entrance on a pale purple wire. The whispering is too soft to make out but it seems almost constant, as if the stranger is completely caught up in their loved one. There’s something juicy about listening in on a stranger’s most intimate musings. (Creating a great irony because this is where I go for my little dose of selfish art.) These hushed words aren’t for me. The speaker has no idea who I am and we’ll probably never meet and who am I to listen to this private conversation?

Well, for one—it’s echoing through the entire collection– not private. Two, if I’m being affected by it then who is a better candidate for listening? I have a love for works of art that initially seem like craziness but, if given a chance, melt into something really approachable. Terrain, Julianne Swartz’s installation, falls in this category. I know by the worried looks of the people leaving its gallery that Terrain isn’t for everyone, but there are other pieces I can’t wrap my head around that are very approachable for others.

I think the point is the joy in finding a favorite; taking the time to read that extra label or stay another minute to let something soak in. What can you get out of it? Well, I have 37 people on the 4^th floor that tell me they love me every time I walk by and someone else could find something equally as good. Either way, we’re being inspired, engaged and I think that is what this whole museum thing is about.

Shortly after the marriage and coronation took place in September 1761, Scottish artist Allan Ramsay (1713–1784) was commissioned to paint full-length portraits of the king and queen in their coronation robes. The demand for replicas of these portraits was so voracious that Ramsay and his assistants spent much of his remaining life producing dozens of copies, not only for the royal residences, but also for public buildings and private houses in Britain and abroad. To meet the demand, according to Ramsay scholar Alastair Smart, the artist ran his studio like a “veritable picture factory.” A visitor recounted seeing Ramsay’s “showroom crowded with portraits of His Majesty in every stage of their operation.” The result was the mass production and global distribution of copies of the coronation portraits.

The IMA is fortunate to possess fine replicas of the coronation portraits that were once owned by a member of the House of Windsor: both were formerly in the collection of Prince George, Duke of Kent (1902–1942), who was the fourth son of King George V (1865–1936) and brother of King George VI (1895–1952).

Allan Ramsay, "King George III" and "Queen Charlotte," probably 1762–1766, oil on canvas, James E. Roberts Fund.

The paintings were installed this week in the Clowes Pavilion, just in time for today’s royal wedding. Their placement in the Clowes Pavilion heralds a reinstallation of British paintings in the pavilion’s balcony gallery that will take place next month.

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.

Sun Boxes is a solar-powered sound installation.  It’s comprised of twenty speakers operating independently, each powered by the sun via solar panels. Inside each Sun Box is a PC board that has a recorded guitar note loaded and programmed to play continuously in a loop.  These guitar notes collectively make a Bb chord.  The loops are different in length and therefore continually overlap, evolving the piece slowly over time.

The work creates space; it’s an environment for one to enter and exit.   The footprint this environment occupies is similar to that of a city.  A metropolis. It’s a burst of technology in the middle of nature.  However, unlike most cities I have been to, it does not just take over the space. Rather, Sun Boxes interfaces with the environment and collaborates with nature.  Participants are encouraged to walk amongst the speakers and surround themselves with the piece.  Certain speakers will be closer and – as a result – louder, so the piece will sound  different to different people in different positions.  Allowing the audience to move around the piece will create a unique experience for everyone.  Sun Boxes is not just one composition, but many.

There are no batteries involved, so Sun Boxes is reliant on the sun.  When the sun sets the music stops and doesn’t start until the sun rises.  The piece changes as the length of the day changes.  Since the amount of sunlight varies from day to day, so does the composition.  We are all reliant on the sun.  It is refreshing to be reminded of this.  Karlheinze Stockhausen once said, “Using short-wave radios in pieces was like improvising with the world.”  Similarly, Sun Boxes collaborates with the planet and it’s relation to the sun.

The IMA is celebrating the Spring Equinox with a three-day installation of Sun Boxes starting Friday, March 18.

The cabinet and drawing should be familiar to regular blog readers from an earlier post that discussed the visit of an expert in French wood-carving techniques. After the cabinet had been carefully studied in the lab, it was time to figure out how to install it. Ideally, the goal was to place the cabinet in a permanent position, create a small focus area with the preparatory drawing, and situate them in the gallery without displacing many of the paintings already on view.
The cabinet was carefully reassembled and installed on a newly-built riser in the northeast corner of the gallery, adjacent to the drawing and a new introductory wall text written by Ellen Lee, Wood-Pulliam Senior Curator and resident Pont-Aven expert.

Here are some more images of the installation crew, Brose Partington and Scott Shoultz, working with objects Conservator Richard McCoy before transporting the work and then installing it in the galleries.

A painting by Henry Moret went into storage to provide space for the drawing and didactic panel. The paintings on the adjacent east wall were shifted down the wall and moved closer together. The resulting extra inches were enough space for all of the paintings on that wall to remain on view.

An additional problem arose in lighting the two objects to reveal their full aesthetic potential. The drawing is light-sensitive and can only be on view for a limited period of time before it needs to go rest in the dark in storage (The constant cycle of the galleries: when the drawing goes into storage, the painting by Moret that it displaced can come back on view). Additionally, the cabinet’s carving is relatively shallow and the polychromy is subtle, providing another lighting challenge.

On the cabinet, IMA lighting guru Carol Cody used light levels that she normally uses on paintings, hitting the top of the nine-foot tall piece with a little extra light to highlight the carving on the finials and to define the shape. The drawing next door received a lower light, as per conservation requirements for works of art on paper. She kept the brighter lights hitting the cabinet away from the drawing by using several spotlights on the figures. Carol’s biggest challenge was making the subtle paint colors and white areas on the cabinet really “pop,” which she accomplished by using a cooler, bluer  light than she normally would use on the paintings in the European galleries. She used slightly raking light to bring out relief and texture of the wood carving.

Now that the work is up in the galleries, please come see it and let us know what you think. We think it complements and enhances the already great Pont-Aven collection perfectly.

Have you had a chance to see it? What do you think?

Eero, the Miller House gremlin

While looking through the Miller House and Garden Collection from 1985-86 in the IMA Archives, IMA archivist Jennifer Whitlock discovered this little sketch on the back of a letter pertaining to the purchase of trees for the Miller property. No one really knows what it is a sketch of, but we all prefer to think of him as a little gremlin doodled by a Miller Family member or someone working on the house. Jennifer put a copy up on the wall, and every time I walk by, it looks like he is smoking a cigarette and waving at me!

What do you think the sketch looks like?

Here’s the front of the document and 2 pictures of the trees they selected.

It is materials like these that make the Miller House come alive as a place a real family lived, not some idealized sanctuary. I think it makes Miller House, a hallmark of mid-century design, more approachable and maybe even more beautiful- it merges real life with such a beautiful aesthetic.

Also, as a special treat for you Ball-Nogues lovers (I am included in this group) here is a picture of the finished install- from below!

What’s coming to take it’s place? Architecture and design fans, rejoice! Los Angeles-based design team Ball-Nogues Studio will create an immersive, site-specific installation called Gravity’s Loom.

Ball-Nogues Studio, Feathered Edge, Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles

The space will be filled with multicolored strings configured in catenary curves, arcs naturally assumed by the strings as they respond to the force of gravity. Trained as architects, Benjamin Ball and Gaston Nogues are working with the pavilion’s architecture to develop an installation related to the function of the space as a thoroughfare and meeting point for visitors.

Check out this wicked installation video from The Arts Council for Long Beach:

Let’s take a look at the vomitorium (I hear that is the term being used in meetings). That would be the exit. Or egress if you wanna get all fancy with your talk and use two-dollar words. We’ve balanced like mountain goats on the slopes of the entrance to Jaar’s piece, tucking our toes into the soil as we planted the grasses and sumac.

Heading down the entrance path.

In the tunnel (a little X Files feel here).

The 45 degree slopes. Covered in plastic to keep them dry prior to planting.

Katie clinging to the wall with one hand while removing the plastic.

Removing excess soil.

Planting Panicum virgatum ‘Rotstrahlbusch’ (switch grass).

This is actually a different side from the next image so just pretend it’s the same. Work with me people. I don’t really have time for blogging this spring.

Panicum all along the top of the bank just behind the benches where you can relax (after they are built and the Park is ready – June 20).

Planting the Rhus aromatica ‘Grow-Lo’. This cultivar of fragrant sumac gets about 2-3 feet tall and roots along its stems. That along with the geo-webbing will help hold the steep banks. It has very fragrant foliage when bruised – the foliage not you. And good fall color tending toward the reds and oranges.

A mostly finished bank.

We have just a little more planting to do in the vomitorium this week. Planting the interior of this piece is well underway. We have quite a bit planted on the exterior as well. Maybe I can get something to you about that real soon. Maybe not.

Last month, 22 benches were packed in a 40 foot ocean-going freight container at the artist’s studio in Rotterdam. After an Atlantic ocean crossing, U.S. customs clearance, and a few truck trips, the container arrived at the park.

IMA staff assembled on the morning of arrival ready to unload and unpack. We opened the container to find each bench thoughtfully packed and placed within the container. As is typical with artwork in transit, extra materials were used to pad and protect each piece. However, given the size of the work, these “extra materials” amounted to a huge pile of Styrofoam.

Feeling a little guilty about leaving the Styrofoam in a dumpster for trash pickup, I began to ask coworkers if they knew of any places in Indy where we could take the foam to be recycled. Sure enough, just up the road from the IMA, we found exactly what we were looking for. We threw the first of two loads into an IMA Horticulture dump truck and headed to our destination.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by Mark Vandersall and the friendly staff at the Createc Corporation. After unloading the dump truck, Mark was kind enough to walk us through the process of recycling EPS (Expanded Polystyrene) Styrofoam.

Clean, white EPS Styrofoam is fed into the granulator (much like a wood chipper) where it is chopped up into small pieces. These pieces then accumulate in a large dustless bag. From there, they move down to the “densifier” which uses an auger and pressure to eliminate the air in the foam granules. The final product is a highly condensed “log.” These recycled “logs” can then be molded to make new products such as building insulation and product packaging.

Granulator Dustless bag Extrusion

To give you an idea of just how dense the materials become; our dump truck full of material was condensed into this:

One cubic foot of recycled Styrofoam. (iPhone added for scale)

This blog entry has a dual purpose:

I want to thank the IMA staff who helped in the process of getting the materials recycled. Thanks to Chad Franer, Laurie Gilbert, TJ Lemanski, and Scott Shoultz (who is now, if he wasn’t already, an expert dump truck driver). I’m glad to know that at the IMA, we are always striving for ways to be green.

I also want to spread the word that there is a great place in Indy that is more than happy to take unwanted EPS Styrofoam off your hands. Createc accepts clean, white, molded EPS (#6) Styrofoam Monday through Friday from 9-4.

Happy recycling!