Wallcovering samples by Morris & Co. (London, England). From Left to Right: Wreath, Christchurch, Bramble, Apple, Ceiling, Honeysuckle; 1887. Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum, New York City. Image from exhibition website.

Meandering aimlessly through museum websites earlier this summer, I came across a description of an exhibit at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum called Multiple Choice: From Sample to Product.  It wasn’t the name that drew me in, though — no, being the sucker for good, beautiful design that I am, it was an image of a French porcelain plate decorated with the various colors and glazes offered by the company.  If you are at all like me — that is, if you love paper, patterns, color combinations, interior design, lace, typography, things handwritten or things letterpressed, or really anything, for example, that’s ever been showcased on the lovely blog design*sponge — then you absolutely must go see this beautiful little exhibit.

Sample Book: The Della Robbia Papers, designed by O.W. Jaquis and published by P.P. Kellogg Division, United States Envelope Co., 1926. Smithsonian Institution Libraries. Image from exhibition website.

This is the story of the little exhibit that could.  It was supposed to close a month or two ago (or so the young woman at the admissions desk told me), but is staying open through September 1, and if you are in the New York area, you would do yourself a favor to go and see it.  It’s not perfect, and there are no brochures anymore and no catalogue ever created, but these tiny, delicate, carefully-cut scraps of paper, rolls of handmade lace, and hand-numbered wallpaper samples cluster in the basement gallery in an array of beautiful colors that spread around the room.  It will take you about a half-hour, an hour if you stretch it and read every description, to go through the exhibition; it’s a short trip, but well worth it.  I wish the section on the “origin of the sample book” had been first — it would have provided, perhaps, a better introduction — but it’s irresistible either way to anyone who’d like to look at a lovely collection of objects.  They range from samples of painted porcelain, to Japanese wallpapers, to lace, to artist’s tools.

Sample book: A Descriptive Handbook of Modern Watercolor Pigments, written by J. Scott Taylor and published by Winsor and Newton, Ltd., late 19th century. Smithsonian Institution Libraries. Image from exhibition website.

One of my favorite objects was this group of paper samples (above, left).  Zoom in on the image to see a close up of the paper — the colors are named the most exotic, strange words: burnt sienna is “tobacco”, a dark sky blue is “gobelin”, and my favorite, a gray-lavender, is “gloaming”.  If you need any word inspiration, this is the exhibit to go to — many of the samples, colors, and patterns are named with some lusciously descriptive words, like the “honeysuckle” or “bramble” patterns (above, right) by Morris & Co.

Also nice to check out at the Design Museum is the garden in the back.  The garden is as big as the floor of the museum.  Unfortunately, while they change exhibits (the Rococo show just ended), there’s only a small room with a selection of works from the permanent collection and this show that are open; but they have Friday night cocktails in the beautiful, sprawling garden.  Can you tell from this review how much I love this charming little museum?  Don’t even get me started on their great website, which has a blog, Youtube channel, and extensive websites on each of their exhibits… just get there yourself and immerse yourself in a world of samples!

Multiple Choice: From Sample to Product, at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum, 2 East 91st St., New York City. | Now through September 1, 2008.

View of the Petrie Courtyard at the J. M. W. Turner exhibition opening, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY

A few weeks ago, I had the great fortune of being able to attend not one, but two members-only events at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City… and now I’ll bring them to you! These events, an opening and a Saturday morning lecture, were in conjunction with the Met’s newest exhibition, titled simply J. M. W. Turner.

The opening of the Turner exhibit was populated largely by an older crowd than me, but it was a great opportunity to see the exhibit with a relatively small number of people.  The show itself is exhaustive, a seemingly complete monograph on the artist and his many different works — from watercolors to oil sketches to full-blown oil paintings, and represent works from all the various periods of his life.  Simply by walking through the early galleries, you can see exactly where Turner’s art is heading; from the bright red reflection of a shirt on the sea, to the churning waves of a darkly-lit night, the vortexes and aureoles of Turner’s mature work looms. It is a great opportunity to get a glimpse into Turner’s entire career; not just the swirling, near-Impressionistic works he is famous for, but his realistic, haunting early watercolors and pale, ambiguous unfinished last works.

The members-only lecture was packed into the Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium at the Met and I was told it was the first in a while that was standing-room only.  The lecturer was an assistant curator in the 19th Century art department, and she was bubbly and excited about the show and Turner.  She had a great account of the usually-reclusive Turner’s tendency to paint the majority of his works during “varnishing days” (three days before the English Salons, or art showings, when the works were hung but not open to the public).   She threw in a few more fun facts, too, and had a killer ending.

Organized in conjunction with the Tate Britain (whose Turner Bequest makes up a majority of the works shown), the exhibition is likely the last-ever Turner retrospective in this country, so try tomake it to New York this summer to take in this very accessible, beautiful exhibition.  (While you’re there, visit the Pietre Dure show; review forthcoming!)

J. M. W. Turner at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Fifth Avenue at 82nd St., New York City) | Now through September 21, 2008.

[Forgive the cheesy title, but once I thought of it I just couldn't resist!  More importantly: this post is written by a guest author and friend of mine and Alexander's, Gabrielle, who very kindly and eloquently offered to write a post about her trip to Brooklyn to visit one of Brooklyn's most futuristic visiting objects. Read on, and many thanks to Gabrielle!  -Chelsea]

The Telectroscope in Brooklyn. Photo by Gabrielle

A few weekends ago, I went to see what appeared to be a giant telescope at the Fulton Ferry Landing in Brooklyn, NY, near the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. The Telectroscope, a giant contraption that looks like it was imported straight from Disney’s Tommorowland, was an exhibit created by artist Paul St. George to connect viewers in London and New York by giant video screens inside what appears to be the end of a giant telescope. A “connecting” Telectroscope was also installed in London, and both ends of the Telectroscope were positioned so that viewers on the other side of the ocean could see picturesque views. In back of New Yorkers, the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan skyline could be seen, and the London Bridge rose up in back of Londoners looking through the giant lens.

According to Wikipedia, French writer and publisher Louis Figuier first used the term “telectroscope” in 1878 in regards to an invention of Alexander Graham Bell that Figuier wrongly interpreted as real. According to Figuier, Bell had invented a device in which people anywhere in the world “could be seen anywhere by anybody” – something like a combination of television and video-conferencing, on a larger scale. In reality, such a device never existed. But Paul St. George picked up on this idea of visually connecting people in creating the Telectroscope exhibit, and even created a fictional back-story to go along with it. (On the official website of the Telectroscope, the device is presented a giant telescope running beneath the Atlantic Ocean connecting London and New York, originally started by St. George’s fictional great-grandfather, Alexander Stanhope St. George.)

The view from inside the Telectroscope in Brooklyn. Photo by Gabrielle

The exhibit was a little disappointing when I saw it in person because the screen was pixelating, so there could be no illusions about it being a real telescope. Nevertheless, I really liked the idea of a giant “telescope” through which you could see people in real time in London. Through a giant glass lens, you could see a screen across from you and wave to people in London, who were waving back at you. Without sound, there was no way to speak to each other, and so these people on a screen became part of the artwork as well. The most fascinating part is to consider that for them, you are the elusive person on the other side of the screen.

The exhibit took the act of people watching, a hobby of both city residents and tourists, to a whole new level. Each viewer was aware that the people on the opposite continent were seeing him or her as part of the exhibit. There was a very blurry line between observing and interacting, which people really seemed to find intriguing.

The Telectroscope exhibit could be seen in London and New York from May 22nd–June 15th, 2008.

While the majority of my posts will concern the world of art in Boston, I wanted to write a little piece about a great museum near my hometown.

View of galleries, Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, New Hampshire. (Credit)

The Hood Museum of Art in Hanover, New Hampshire, is actually North America’s oldest museum in continuous operation. Dating back to 1772, it is owned and operated by Dartmouth College, and was founded just 3 years after the college itself. With nearly 65,000 objects in its permanent collection, this small museum boasts quite an impressive range of art. There’s a bit of everything, from Ancient Near Eastern reliefs, to American landscapes, to European paintings, and even some home furnishings.

While there are no “world famous” pieces in this museum that most would have heard of, I find it refreshing to wander this quiet museum and not worry about when you will get to the “Mona Lisa” of this college art museum. You get to really look at the art and take it in for what it is, not what you have heard about it. There is a substantial amount of their collection on display, and makes for a well rounded yet not overwhelming experience.

The King and the Genie, Relief from the Northwest Palace of Ashurnasirpal II at Nimrud, 883-859 BCE, Gypsum (Credit)

While there are many gems in the permanent collection, my favorite thing to see is the group of reliefs from the Northwest Palace of Ashurnasirpal II at Nimrud, Assyria, dating back to circa 883-859 BCE. Ashurnasirpal II was the King of Assyria from 884-859 BCE, and inhabited this palace in present-day Iraq. These over life-sized reliefs made of gypsum occupy a vast wall in one of the galleries, and show a variety of figures, including a King and a Genie. What I find most interesting is that if you look up close, you can see bands of cuneiform (an ancient style of writing) that proclaim the laws of the kingdom. These reliefs stick to the custom of depicting figures solely in profile, and are easily relatable to Egyptian and other Eastern art from that timeperiod. This impressive grouping remains powerful, even removed from its original context, and gives a sense of grandiosity that the original palace must have had. The museum has informative pamphlets that go into depth about the reliefs, the laws they proclaim, the figures they depict, and the provenance of the works themselves.

Maud Sulter, Terpsichore, 1989, dye destructions print. Arts Council Collection, London. Photograph courtesy of Maud Sulter and the Arts Council Collection, Southbank Centre, London. On view in the exhibition Black Womanhood. Hood Museum of Art, Hanover, New Hampshire (Credit)

In addition to the vast permanent collection, the Hood Museum also presents about eight special exhibitions each year, as well as two teaching exhibitions each term. To quote the Museum itself, “The exhibitions program of the Hood Museum of Art represents one of the most important means by which the museum fulfills its primary mission: to foster a greater appreciation of the visual arts as a medium for the expression of ideas and cultural values. The exhibitions presented by the museum are intended to contribute to scholarship in art history and related disciplines and to offer insight into the artistic production of many different historical periods and cultures.” The current exhibitions are entitled “Black Womanhood: Images, Icons, and Ideologies of the African Body” (April 1-August 10, 2008) and “Ruscha and Pop: Icons of the 1960s” (April 12-June 15, 2008).

Perhaps the most interesting exhibition program that the Hood has (at least to me, as an undergrad Art History major…) is called A Space for Dialogue. This program, started 7 years ago, allows the Senior Interns at the Museum to curate Mini-Exhibitions in the entrance lobby to the museum itself. There have been over 38 since 2001, each accompanied by a brochure written by the intern, and ranging in themes from Consuming Life: On Ideals of Beauty and Assuming Identity in a Culture of Fear to Picturing Family in the “South”: Legacies of the American Civil War. These exhibitions use works from the permanent collection that have not been displayed recently to create a provocative and thoughtful statement as well as give the Seniors a chance to get some hands-on curatorial experience. The full title of this program is: A Space for Dialogue: Fresh Perspectives on the Permanent Collection from Dartmouth Students, and it truly creates a venue for interaction not only between the students and their selected works of art, but also between the viewers, the students, and the museum itself.

Gods of the Modern World, detail of mural cycle The Epic of American Civilization. Detail of mural by José Clemente Orozco at Baker Library, Dartmouth College, Hanover, New Hampshire. (Credit)

The museum is located just off “The Big Green” at the heart of both Dartmouth College’s campus as well as the college town of Hanover, New Hampshire. It is situated next to the Hopkin’s Art Center, and just off the main street where you can find Lou’s (a classy ‘50s style diner, which is also the best place for breakfast in the area) as well as many cute shops and restaurants. Just across the green is the Baker Library, home to Jose Clemente Orozco’s massive mural project entitled The Epic of American Civilization. These works of art depict an intricate and compelling narrative that covers the history of the Americas, beginning with the Aztecs’ migration into central Mexico and ending with the development of our modern industrial society. Located in the Reserve room in the lower level of the library, these vibrant murals (comprised of 24 individual scenes and covering approximately 3,200 square feet) are a must-see for anyone in the area.

Overall, the Hood Museum of Art is a wonderful place to simply enjoy art. As long as you go with an open mind and an eye that is not looking for a Manet or Michelangelo, I truly believe anyone can really enjoy this peaceful and accessible collection. The special exhibitions are always worth a look, and the Museum Staff are very friendly and more than happy to answer any and all questions.

View of Hood Museum of Art from courtyard (Credit)

Hanover, New Hampshire is pretty far off of the beaten path for most, but the Upper Valley is a great place for a weekend retreat. In the summer, there are endless outdoors activities and even a Drive-In nearby. The Fall offers breathtaking views and hikes as the mountains seem to burst into flame with the changing foliage. In the winter, this cute college town turns into a winter wonderland with lots of local skiing and plenty of raging fireplaces to keep you warm. Lastly, in the spring, (or what we call “Mud Season”) the expanses of blooming flowers and rushing rivers offer a wonderful escape into nature.

It isn’t common to find such an impressive range of art outside of a major city, and I believe the location of the Hood Museum of Art, away from the hustle and bustle of city life, adds to its character of quiet and removed contemplation. It is a sanctuary of sorts, where you can really relax, take a deep breath, and open your eyes to truly see what is in front of you.

More information on any topic discussed above, as well as complete information on current and upcoming exhibitions, can be found on the Hood Museum of Art’s official website.

Preparation photo from Rivane Neuenschwander, I wish your wish, 2003, at the Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh (Photo courtesy CMoA’s Flickr stream)

Every four years, the Carnegie Museum of Art in my hometown of Pittsburgh, PA, hosts a huge exhibition that takes over most a large part of the art museum in order to showcase what they consider the best contemporary art today.

I visited the CI08 on Tuesday and have to say that I was a little less than impressed, although there are some standout pieces that really made the exhibition for me. Perhaps the reason why I liked it less was because at the last Carnegie International (04-05), I was drawn to a greater number of the works, and even remember a lot of those works much more vividly than I realized as a friend and I went through this year’s show. There are a few things that I think took away from the International this year, and I’ll talk about them below, along with some of the pieces I really loved.

The Theme

I see where they’re going with the theme of “Life on Mars”, but what first comes to my mind is aliens and sci-fi. Of course, when you read the explanation, the intention becomes clear: “Are we alone in the universe? Do aliens exist? Or are we, ourselves, the strangers in our own worlds? We are not alone.” The idea of looking at our culture from the viewpoint of an utter outsider is intriguing, but I wish there was a way to take away the odd, almost humorous connotations that I get immediately — which quickly disappear after you read that introduction.

The Selection

Simply put, there are a LOT of German artists. I have nothing against German artists (my favorite artist of all time is Albrecht Durer), but for an exhibition that prides itself on being — obviously — “international” and representing many countries, I was surprised at their choice of artists. Eight of the forty-one artists are from Germany, and an additional four more work in Germany (but weren’t born there). A handful of others are from Austria or Switzerland, and almost all of the rest, except for seven, are American or British. As we walked through the galleries, it seemed like every room had at least one German artist in it — same with American or British.

Again, nothing against the artists they chose; but why weren’t there more Asian artists? Not just Chinese or Japanese, but from the middle eastern countries? Or South America (I believe there’s only one)? One glance at the advisory committee for CI08 seems to hint as to why this happened (click here and scroll down). Half of the committee, which comprises only four members, work at contemporary art museums or centers in Frankfurt, Germany; the other two work at the New Museum in New York City. I won’t say any more on this topic, since I hate being negative — but I will say that I think the previous International did a much better job of having artists from much more diverse places.

The Standouts

There were two works that, walking out of the doors of the museum, I knew would stick in my mind for a long time. Each, in a very different way, rely on viewer interactions to get their message across.

Preparation photo from Thomas Hirschhorn, Cavemanman, 2002, at the Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh (Photo courtesy CMoA’s Flickr stream)

Thomas Hirschhorn’s Cavemanman installation (right) was utterly engrossing and extremely powerful. As my friend and I decided, this is the way installation art should be done. This series of huge rooms made of brown packaging tape, cardboard, and found materials engulfs you in the dull quiet of a huge, multi-room cardboard box fort. Your footsteps stick to the tape on the floor as you wander through the utterly still, unechoing spaces that Hirschhorn has created, among discarded soda cans that litter the floor, past groups of tinfoil people attached to dynamite and political books, through rooms with photographs, graffiti, and clocks on the cardboard walls. Don’t bother trying to decipher the guide; instead, develop your own opinion of why Hirschhorn would invite us into this near-post-apocolyptic space of images and words from our own culture.

Rivane Neuenschwander’s I wish your wish (2003) is a much more optimistic work, where you take a ribbon with a wish imprinted on it, sometimes in English, sometimes not — a wonderful nod to the “international” in the title, whether or not the artist intended it — and then tie the ribbon around your wrist (or where ever) and when it falls off, the wish comes true.

Preparation photo from Rivane Neuenschwander, I wish your wish, 2003, at the Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh (Photo courtesy CMoA’s Flickr stream)

In return, you leave a wish in the hole in the wall, which might be turned into a wish itself. My friend and I ended our tour of the exhibition here, and it was a wonderful way to end a thought-provoking day at the museum. It’s a lovely way to “give back” and really feel like you’re participating in a work of art.

Also, kudos to the CMoA for a technologically-friendly exhibition website: incorporating thoughts from the blogosphere and even using tagging features, the website is much more fancy and interactive than one might expect from a large museum, showing that the curators really wanted to try to connect this exhibition to an ever-more-technologically-savvy audience. They even have a Flickr photostream of images from installing the exhibition, from which I borrowed the images in this post — absolutely fantastic.

To end, I want to note that not only the friend with whom I went to see the exhibition, but a lot of the people I’ve talked to about CI08 have really loved the show. In fact, many like it better than the last one — so go figure! The only way to really decide for yourself is, naturally, to get to the Carnegie sometime this year, and check out the exhibition for yourself (and then tell us about it here). Like both of the Internationals I’ve been to, it’s certainly sparked discussions and many thoughts about art and the world between me and my friends — which I think, regardless of the problems I do have with it, makes it, as usual, a success.

Life on Mars: The 2008 Carnegie International | Now through January 11, 2009 | The Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh, PA.