Isabel Bishop’s Tidying Up

One of the great things about working in an art museum is the opportunity to really get to know a collection. It is a sad reality of museum work that sometimes, although we are literally surrounded by a wonderful and varied collection of art, the practicalities of making the institution do the things it does overwhelm museum employees, causing us to spend more time in Outlook than actually looking around. It has been my experience that walking the galleries almost always yields some surprise, or reacquaints me with a painting I’ve admired but lost touch with, or is just somehow the right painting for the right day. A stroll through the American galleries earlier this week included some time spent with Tidying Up by Isabel Bishop, a painting that I’ve seen many times,. I’ve always liked the painting, but this time the painting really seemed special, and I’ve been thinking about why.

I’ll foreground my discussion of the painting with an admission: I think my interest in any painting, or the degree to which a painting affects me, is nearly always dependent on the way the painting connects with or disputes some ongoing development in my own art making process. I suppose I am a selfish viewer, but I think that it is also about the value of placing yourself within a lineage of artists, and finding commonalities in practice across eras and locations. I think that is one part of what museums provide for most artists, a place to construct a framework for your own practice, a building that serves as some kind of physical demonstration of the value of making art as a collective human endeavor. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about drawing and observation, and about the way that keeping a sketchbook full of drawings done on the spot and in the moment formalizes the process of looking around, and helps remind one to be always at the ready for visual inspiration. Bishop’s painting speaks to that impulse to see and interpret, and in keeping with the nostalgic air of the beginning of this post, reminds of me of days spent on trains and in public spaces sketching unsuspecting strangers. I have become a frequent visitor to the Urban Sketchers site which is a collection of artists in cities all around the world who post scans of their sketchbooks, including some drawings of commuters that rhyme nicely with the un-posed and informal look of Tidying Up.

I love the way that finding oneself unexpectedly entranced by a painting can act as a catalyst that links and crystallizes thoughts. In an unexpected way, I find myself connecting both the work posted on the sketchblog and Bishop’s painting to the work of Charles and Ray Eames. Before researching and installing the current Star Studio exhibition, More than Four Legs: A Closer Look at Chairs (through January 19), I was familiar with the work of Charles and Ray Eames as designers, but knew very little about their photography. The show contains a label written by Charles Eames’s granddaughter, Carla Hartman that details the amazing volume of photographs that Charles and Ray Eames produced (hundreds of thousands of still images). Many of the photos record apparently simple, common household tableaus (dishes in a sink, a bouquet of flowers). I love the idea of a cumulative record of the visual events encountered in daily life that prompted the desire to artfully record the moment, to produce a personal library of framed views of the world. Perhaps today Charles and Ray would have a massive Flickr account or would keep a really great photoblog.
Combining Bishop’s painting (and the long history of reportage-style drawing that is implied by it ) with the examples of lifetimes of close looking found in the work of Charles and Ray Eames creates a model for really seeing and understanding the world through constant, disciplined application and exertion of the “view-finding” eye. The message I get is shoot photos, make drawings, watch the space around you for art, both purposeful and unplanned. Look more intently at the world around you.

I don’t want to overstate this, but I feel like Isabel Bishop’s modestly scaled painting is acting as my own stand-in for Rilke’s Archaic Torso of Apollo, and reminding me of the unique, and really kind of unreasonable, impact that an object in a museum can have on one’s thinking. The last line of Rilke’s poem is “You must change your life.” There is an echo of that message to be found in museums everywhere, and it is likely to be triggered by an object far less obviously imbued with the weight of historic significance than an ancient Greek statue.

So, for me 2009 is going to be a year of looking around more intently, drawing more, and a year of allowing myself frequent opportunities to be surprised and affected by the works in the museum’s collections. Maybe I will also start writing more concise blog posts. Happy New Year.

If you missed last Thursday’s talk by Modern Art Notes blogger Tyler Green at the Central Library, presented by iMOCA, we’ve got you covered. Overall the talk was insightful–intriguing to those outside the arts world and passion-evoking for those intimately involved in the arts. “We all agree too much. Maybe we’re afraid to say the wrong thing,” said Green at the opening of his talk.

The afternoon before speaking, Green spent some time wandering the galleries of the IMA. The following are Tweets from Green’s visit to the IMA. You can “follow” Green on Twitter by clicking here.

• At Indy Museum of Art. Sweet.
• Digging Emile Bernard. Color, composition, his way of eliminating depth.
• Denis’ The Breton Dance from 1891 shows how important he would be to Bonnard and Vuillard and how they showed foliage/landscape.
• Rembrandt 20something self-portrait is fantastic and weird. Light. Diagonal of cap. Open mouth.
• Early Titian (20ish) portrait is creepy and soothing. Something odd about the eyes. And fur trim on coat is more painterly than hair.
• Fine Prints for Five Dollars at IMA is the most fun I’ve had in a prints gallery in eons. I hope the show is on http://imamuseum.org.
• Emile Bernard’s Yellow Christ: fascinating apostles. Mask-like: recalls later Picasso; simple, direct feature that recall very late Matisse.
• IMA Sandback space is haunting. Untitled diagonal going out window into beyond…
  

Green spoke to a crowd about the 10 (or more) things he hates about contemporary art, along with a brief explanation. Here is a short summary of what he had to say:

1. Mary Cassatt, American impressionist painter, 1844-1926: Green thinks her babies look unhappy and her children resemble horses. Judge for yourself by viewing Cassatt’s work in the IMA’s collection.
2. Sir Peter Paul Ruben’s “Daniel and the Lions Den”, c.1614/1616: To Green, the image just doesn’t make logical sense. How do the lions get in and out of there?
3. Jackson Pollock, American abstract expressionist painter, 1912-1956: Green feels the artist is more important than his art is great.
4. Political art such as work by Richard Serra: “It’s like a pop song you can’t get out of your head,” said Green.
5. We don’t have ambition for art like we did 100-200 years ago: The biggest thing we do is prevent $20 million from being cut from the National Endowment for the Arts budget. Green thinks we need to start thinking about what our nation’s priorities should be and how art can play a part. Increasing art education funding would be a good place to start.
6. The national/international landscape now: Green showed works that capture the ecological damage we are creating through consumption.
7. Art writing: Green played a game with the audience, asking them to differentiate between “real” published art critic and made-up language created from The Instant Art Critique Phrase Generator. He found himself confused, but the crowd seemed to get the difference.
8. Hypocrisy: Green hates hypocrisy but “love(s) how art can reveal it.” He showed examples that hung in Pastor Ted Haggard’s megachurch.
9. “I hate that big parts of America are left out of the art world.”: Green said that New York is not the be-all, end-all. Other places can be just as important. Green cited the IMA’s new “kick ass” Robert Irwin light installation saying, “It might be the best Irwin installed anywhere in America.” In the Q&A portion of his talk, Green went on to explain that in order for arts to flourish in a city, art schools, available studio space, people who buy art as part of the culture, and tremendous museum collections as visual community are all needed.
10. Letting the art market be a compass for what we think of art: Curators and collectors often follow the art market, placing value on artists and works that are most expensive. Green says to resist it.
11. “Artists statements suck.”

Green became a successful blogger by disagreeing with those around him and breaking news. We encourage open discussion on the IMA Blog and hope you will participate by commenting. And most especially, we thank the Indianapolis Museum of Contemporary Art for giving Indy the opportunity to meet Tyler Green.