"Look I can too." Photo by Joe Wallace

I recently traveled to Spain where I had the pleasure of re-visiting a favorite museum, the Reina Sofia, in Madrid. I trekked to the museum district for what I believe are two must-see works—Pablo Picasso’s Guernica and Salvador Dali’s Muchacha en la Ventana. It has been my experience that even if art museum visitors don’t understand what a piece means, most can at least appreciate what great works like these mean to art history or to an artist’s career. For me, taking pleasure in the viewing experience of these paintings comes very easily as well. Guernica’s scale alone (over 25 feet wide and 11 feet tall) begs for a few extra minutes of consideration, not to mention its iconic, violently contortioned figures and the work’s importance to Spanish history. I enjoy Muchacha more for its peaceful, contemplative nature but also because of a personal memory I associate with the work—a reproduction was sent to me from my brother while he lived in Spain. (The painting’s ‘girl’ is Dali’s sister.)

Salvador Dali, "Muchacha en la Ventana", 1925

What made my museum experience particularly memorable this time around was not my enjoyment of these two works, but instead how disturbed and confused I felt after seeing another work—a film by Luis Bunuel and Salvador Dali called Un Chien Andalou (which you can view here—warning, please view it before showing your kids). It was bizarre and crazy and I didn’t want to understand it. Though my museum companion explained that it was a Surrealist masterpiece and pivotal film studied and known by any film buff, I didn’t and wouldn’t like it. Even after I learned that its shocking opening sequence—a man slicing open a woman’s eyeball with a razor blade—is one of the most recognized moments in film history, it did not matter, I could not take pleasure in this piece. All I could do was reluctantly appreciate it for its place in film history and its creators’ reputed genius. Because this visit left me feeling unusually more out-of-touch with the art than other visits, I was determined to find a reason to like Un Chien.

Still from "Un Chien Andalou", 1928. Photograph: Ronald Grant Archive

Surprisingly, it took three minutes of research on the trusty web to find that 1) my uncomfortable response was exactly what Bunuel and Dali intended for me (according to Roger Ebert and many other critics) and 2) my aesthetic interests in other art works can be loosely connected right back to this very film. In my defense of #1, I am aware of the Surrealist affinity for shock and non-sense, but the required 15+ minutes of weirdness made possible by the film medium (versus the limited seconds I would have to spend with surrealist paintings to “see” it in full) made this work seem particularly off the wall—sorry for being slow to figure that out, Mr. Ebert. And in regard to #2, please allow me a quick ‘degrees of separation’ exercise. Un Chien has been (more than) rumored to have influenced David Lynch, the director of the Twin Peaks series and several cult classic movies. David Lynch’s Blue Velvet directly influenced Gregory Crewdson, a photographer of large-scale, highly orchestrated, strange and dream-like images. Crewdson was a major interest of mine during my undergraduate study of photography and inspired the aesthetic of many of my projects, including my thesis show. And there you have it, a reason for me to be thankful for Un Chien Andalou. It seems the IMA can claim similar thankfulness, as it boasts Crewdson’s Untitled (1998) in its collection.

Gregory Crewdson, "Untitled", 1998. From the IMA collection.

So, I’ll charge you with the same task I assigned to myself—the next time you stumble on a piece of art that offends, frightens, discourages, enrages, or plain annoys you, try not to dismiss it. Instead, let it be that much more of an inspiration to find a reason to relate to it. You might find that you can alter your entire experience of it.

After a few last minute tasks in the morning, Meg, my internship mentor for the summer, and I strolled over to our escape vehicle from the great indoors. A single key, a nine-person van and one destination: MUG n’ BUN Drive-in.

Most of the Marketing department decided to join us on our journey to Indianapolis’s west side. Some were hoping to relive memories of root beer and corn dogs, and others, like myself, to experience the glory of this drive-in for the first time. We were a sight to behold in our office regalia. We scarfed down the mountain of delicious food before us: Chocolate malts, fries, root beer, burgers, coney dogs, corn dogs and cole slaw. All morsels of an afternoon at MUG n’ BUN.

Suffice it to say, our tummies were not happy with us afterwards.

My summer at the IMA has been a revealing one. (Lesson #1: Don’t overdo it at MUG n’ BUN.) My knowledge of the museum world has grown, and I even learned a little more about myself. Gaining exposure to all departments of the Museum, by attending meetings, taking on a survey and marketing initiatives project, and getting to know the staff, has been a tremendous benefit of my few months spent at the IMA.

Some of the other interns I worked with are starting jobs or preparing for grad school. I’m heading back to Bloomington for my final undergraduate year at Indiana University and trying to figure out where I’ll end up after next May. However confusing the future may seem, the IMA has given me a whole new set of experiences from which to work. Being in the presence of so many people who are passionate about their job makes me happy I was along for the ride.

What I did on my Summer Vacation

or, How I learned to Stop Worrying and be a Good Intern

No kidding, internships have the potential to be awful. You could be stuck on coffee and filing duty. If you’re in that situation, you kind of have to put your ego to the side and be willing to do the grunt work. You can think about it as the chance to earn the respect of the people you are interning for, thus leading to your acquiring more thought provoking projects. A truly lucky intern will have both a boss that lets them manage some projects throughout their time at the institution, and the foresight to take advantage of this opportunity.

Even if you have a great situation with your boss, it can be difficult to get comfortable in your duties. In the beginning, one of the hardest parts for me was feeling confident in taking initiative. Not because I am not capable of it, but because I really wanted to make sure I was doing everything right.

As I was vacillating about the details of my summer project, one of the most helpful things Despi said was, “I can write this for you, but I think it will be more valuable to have you try it yourself.” She gave me the permission I needed to take control of the project, but also to potentially fail. Project management is one of the most difficult types of experience to gain, because it can only be learned through hard work, trial and error. It’s those ‘real life’ experiences of deadlines and organization that make internships a vital part of the learning experience.

So, I’ve learned a lot this summer. I’ve learned to write down everything. Simple but effective; this also really helps fight ‘the yawns’ in a boring meeting. I’ve also learned not to be afraid to ask all the clarifying questions you need. Your manager will not be annoyed, but instead will be thankful that they have someone who pays attention to details. Try to make yourself indispensable! Another major goal of interning is to meet the people in your future field. When a position opens up at the museum, you want every person you worked for to think of your name.

• Always say yes when another opportunity to help arises. Be flexible and available. (this one’s from me!)
• “Be open minded and willing to try new things. Look for opportunities to grow. Don’t be too hard on yourself if it doesn’t pan out. “- Emily Blyze, Development Researcher
• “Don’t be afraid to ask for the job you want. If there’s an opening, go for it! Internships are an opportunity to get your foot in the door.” – Amber Laibe, Manager of Affiliate and Volunteer Services
• “Get involved in as many things at the organization as possible. Put yourself out there!” -Meg Liffick, Communications Manager
• “Other than hygiene? Make the most of it.”- Daniel Incandela, Director of New Media

If you have advice about internships in general, or to someone thinking about interning at the IMA, leave a comment!

In closing,

To the staff in MIS, Education, Marketing, and Development, thank you for a wonderful Summer. I was very lucky to get to interact with so many departments. To New Media, I hope I haven’t scarred you too much. I had a great time!

As you may know from reading the Nugget Factory post a few weeks ago, all of the members of the Nugget Factory have names that begin with ‘D’. When (D)Emily approached us about the possibility of an internship, it seemed a requirement for her to work into that somehow. She started work this morning and will be with us at least through the summer…sometimes interns end up being around forever. That’s how we ended up with Danny.

(D)Emily is a brilliant and brave soul who contacted Daniel and I after we guest-lectured in one of her IUPUI museum studies classes. Her proactive spirit payed off and we cobbled together a project proposal that is actually pretty cool. We will spend the summer working on web projects of all sorts, some in collaboration with Meg. I must say that I am already overjoyed at (D)Emily’s potential to help the Nugget Factory shine even brighter. (I am listening to Madonna’s ‘Lucky Star’ as I type this, doesn’t that just sum it all up?)

Have a great story about a past internship? Motivational words for IMA’s 2008 class? Want to give props to your own intern? Do it all here. With any luck, we can get this blog post included in the mandatory orientation materials for IMA interns.