Your posts always provoke me to thought, Jeffrey, this time, two in particular. You wonder "whether curatorial narratives survive for long after a glimpse at the first room of an exhibition." You offer good cause for the severity of that conjecture about this exhibit. But I wonder how much, less severely, they survive the exhibit. Surely, some art historian has examined the record of curatorial narrative actually exerting influence over the reception and historical course of art?
I also recall our talking titles very recently. I forget whether we got to mentioning titling of abstract art. The "works" here are excellent examples of the clearly very determined effort to abstract the titles, meaninglessly, themselves, so as not to impose an idea through language onto the reception of the artwork, by articulating an essence in the title. The only one that clearly directs a response is "Gates of Hell," and, indeed, you and I had that response.
I will never forget going to the East Building of the National Gallery of Art in D.C. to see some of Rothko's well-known work. After I'd gone through the single-room show, I took a bit of time to watch viewers' reactions. None read the wall text and a title meant nothing to them. Almost every one walked into that room and within a few minutes walked out, spending no time at all with the canvases. I happen to engage deeply with Rothko so I guess I was the exception that afternoon.
Records of exhibitions - the 5 Ws - do have importance, such as documenting the artist, the artist's career and progress, the artist's influences or influence, etc. Often, too, art historians use them to identify trends and their spread. Critical and cultural judgments come into play as well, showing us, for example, the reasons for the famed essay question posed and answered by Linda Nochlin, a Vassar grad and the college's feminist art historian: "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?"
Thank you, Maureen, for that insightful comment. I guess exhibtion titles can act as provocatons, just like essays in the example you cite. I'm fine with that, as long as I don't let the curatorial thesis get in the way of enjoying (or not) the art.
I agree. You approach art in all the right ways. I might have added that sometimes it is curators who assign titles, which can be useful for organization and tracking. (Imagine a show of all untitled work!) It can be amusing to watch viewers look at a title and then at the art and wonder, some even say out loud, huh?
So much variety here, all of the artists new names to me. The premise for the exhibition strikes me as rather tortured, an excuse to bring these painters together. Nothing wrong with that when the result is a provocative array of styles and creative missions.
Like you Jeffrey, I am looking at the title of this exhibition and seeing only a contradiction! Less so perhaps in Aiko Miyawaki’s softly contoured brail(?).
A lovely piece, what a shame though that gender has to be an issue!
A wonderful piece, Jeffrey. I always enjoy your work. I feel like I’m being shown around a museum or art gallery and I’m being offered a perspective on the art I never would’ve thought of otherwise.
I also really related to what you said here — “In any case, it was at this point that I decided to stop thinking about “anti-action”. I concentrated instead on appreciating the works simply for the effect they had on me.”
— I try to draw my own takes on art wherever possible :)
Thank you, Michael! I was also grateful to the curators for putting the exhibition together, even if their thesis didn't quite work for me. A good chance to see some impressive art.
This a great essay. Why does gender always have to get in the way of great art. There are tough women and weak men! Apologies, I just destroyed the paradigm. I don't care. Let the artistic not be enslaved by gender obligation. Let the nongenderal spirit live with all the fury it can muster. I don't know what the artistic curator, oh faux, but such aggressive Japanese women (is that a contradiction?) oh faux is french or hindi where I could say ooaf, pretty much same translation shrugging off the gender insults day of the day, directed towards the modern gender less women samurai whose bright colors boldly shine. And the hidden huge sword they carry. In the feudal samurai thrillers the women warrior sometimes wipes out all the men just to appear well sensai samurai schooled! Jeffrey, thanks for having us look at bold bright colors in a different way. I admire the shape shifting like in a gender anger conversation. The Japanese women warriors salute their South Asian women warrior cousins who rout and destroy their patriarchal enemies, the Menabad armies consigned to the odd off center world of upper and lower Menabad. I like the shape shifting of the big little Rock which looks a little like a moldering baseball glove or the small half side of a fallen off fugitive toupee. Thanks for this post. Always good to shake things up a bit! Also the all wound up Menabad who wind up in hell so ticked off!
Thank you Jeffrey. This was all new to me - and fascinating. I think what struck me most, was a reaffirmation of the idea about art being a relationship between the maker and the viewer. What is it that draws us to some works and not others? What does 'like’ mean? Are we wrong to search for meaning in works like these?
The very fact that what we are looking at provokes such questions, might even be the whole point….
Thank you, Liz. I like to dig around in my mind for how I’m reacting to certain works and to explore the effect they are having on me. But I feel relaxed about finding a meaning in them. I don’t think it’s wrong to look for a meaning, as long as we are open to the fact that there may not be one, if you see what I mean…
Even though I enjoy color, I found myself most intrigued by Keiko Akana's work. Red, in my opinion, in great quantities is not an easy color to pull off. Thank you, Jeffrey, for taking us on a little educational journey through the exhibition!
Jeffrey, have you ever read any of Minimalist sculptor Ann Truitt's journals, several of which go a long way to help people understand the challenges (discrimination being one, and still the order of the day) women face as artists. Truitt was born in Baltimore, Md., and was well-known in the DMV and today is regarded as a major figure.
That term "action painting" was often used when the subject was Jackson Pollock. When Helen Frankenthaler, who had a intimate relationship with the critic Clement Greenberg, a rival of Rosenberg, adopted some of the more physical techniques such as drip painting (she also used to get on ladders and paint from on high), she was labeled imitative. Interestingly, her use of paint diluted with turpentine was taken up by Morris Louis (whose canvases I love) and Kenneth Noland and others of the Washington Color School. She was not without influence, in my opinion.
I don't get why the artists in your essay were described as "anti-action" except as a way, perhaps to insult them. Some of these works, it seems to me, are imbued with a great deal of energy, if not in technique or style then certainly in the image created and the paint colors used.
You write that you "decided to stop thinking about 'anti-action.' I concentrated instead on appreciating the works simply for the effect they had on me." That sentence is, for me, a wholly honest one and one of the many reasons I enjoy reading your reviews of art exhibitions. (I also would cite John-Paul and Rona for the same reason.) I along ago stopped reading wall text while viewing a show, and it is very rare that you'll find me wearing headphones. Although I own many, many exhibition catalogues, I purchase them primarily so I can "do slow art" - spend concentrated time looking at the images after I've seen the originals in person. If I don't have an immediate feeling about an artwork, I move on.
The artwork here that especially gets my attention, and that I have never seen before, is Akana's "Objects in the Space." Yes, "haunting" indeed. And interesting that she has used the definitive "the" in her title. What space? I see in the image shadowy figures in a world that the atomic bomb and nuclear weapons of all kinds have left destroyed and dangerous, and at a tipping point. I also find "Growth I" to have a strong pull, especially as it follows "Objects in the Space." Cancer cells?
You've done us all a great service by making images of these artists' works available. I will come back to explore the links. Keep writing!
By the way, an artist friend of mine in D.C. always tries to find out when local museums are throwing out wall text and other kinds of exhibition materials, such as wallpapers. She gathers what she can from dumpsters and uses it in various collaged paintings she and her husband, also an artist, make.
Thank you, Maureen. I learn so much from your comments! I'm pretty sure the person who coined the phrase anti-action int his context was not trying to slight the artists in any way. Her essay is appreciative. But I remain unsure about whether her thesis stands up. I'm glad to hear you like the Akana work as much as I do. I was also intrigued by the definite article in the title. But the I reflected recalled that the English title was probably just a translation from the Japanese. Japanese has no articles, so in a case like this, it would come down to the translator's judgement which article to use, if any. However, the use of "the" remains intersting even with that in mind, as the questions that you identifiy are already formed.
Thanks for introducing me to Japanese female artists! I have to embarrassingly admit that I had no (and still have very little) exposure to. I always learn from your essays, Jeffrey! 🙏
It is striking but unsurprising to see anti-art passed off as art even in Japan, so noxiously infective has the decadence of Western hacks invaded consciousness worldwide. In Taiwan, young Taiwanese make the noise known as heavy metal and call it music. The tradition of abstract coloration of useful wares, like cups and bowls is very ancient; but without a function, and being impenetrable of its meaningfulness, if any was intended, its lack of cogency and even of intended design, what is passed off as "art" litters the walls of museums originally established to display what they now disdain. See my essay on the Kinder "Modern Art" wing ofthe Houston Texas Museum of Fine Arts, "Museum of the Joke," at birthofVenus.substack.com, if interested in the ideas I set forth in argument.
Your posts always provoke me to thought, Jeffrey, this time, two in particular. You wonder "whether curatorial narratives survive for long after a glimpse at the first room of an exhibition." You offer good cause for the severity of that conjecture about this exhibit. But I wonder how much, less severely, they survive the exhibit. Surely, some art historian has examined the record of curatorial narrative actually exerting influence over the reception and historical course of art?
I also recall our talking titles very recently. I forget whether we got to mentioning titling of abstract art. The "works" here are excellent examples of the clearly very determined effort to abstract the titles, meaninglessly, themselves, so as not to impose an idea through language onto the reception of the artwork, by articulating an essence in the title. The only one that clearly directs a response is "Gates of Hell," and, indeed, you and I had that response.
I will never forget going to the East Building of the National Gallery of Art in D.C. to see some of Rothko's well-known work. After I'd gone through the single-room show, I took a bit of time to watch viewers' reactions. None read the wall text and a title meant nothing to them. Almost every one walked into that room and within a few minutes walked out, spending no time at all with the canvases. I happen to engage deeply with Rothko so I guess I was the exception that afternoon.
Records of exhibitions - the 5 Ws - do have importance, such as documenting the artist, the artist's career and progress, the artist's influences or influence, etc. Often, too, art historians use them to identify trends and their spread. Critical and cultural judgments come into play as well, showing us, for example, the reasons for the famed essay question posed and answered by Linda Nochlin, a Vassar grad and the college's feminist art historian: "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?"
Thank you, Maureen, for that insightful comment. I guess exhibtion titles can act as provocatons, just like essays in the example you cite. I'm fine with that, as long as I don't let the curatorial thesis get in the way of enjoying (or not) the art.
I agree. You approach art in all the right ways. I might have added that sometimes it is curators who assign titles, which can be useful for organization and tracking. (Imagine a show of all untitled work!) It can be amusing to watch viewers look at a title and then at the art and wonder, some even say out loud, huh?
Very interesting, on both points. Nochlin knew how to insert the title and twist it, I see.
These abstracts I would not have seen without your essay, Jeffrey: eye opening!
So much variety here, all of the artists new names to me. The premise for the exhibition strikes me as rather tortured, an excuse to bring these painters together. Nothing wrong with that when the result is a provocative array of styles and creative missions.
I agree, Rona. The power of the work on display leaves the curatorial thesis a long way behind - and well done to them for assembling these paintings.
Like you Jeffrey, I am looking at the title of this exhibition and seeing only a contradiction! Less so perhaps in Aiko Miyawaki’s softly contoured brail(?).
A lovely piece, what a shame though that gender has to be an issue!
I also enjoyed the work by Miyawaki. And yes, it's regrettable that there are these injustices and imbalances to be rectified.
A wonderful piece, Jeffrey. I always enjoy your work. I feel like I’m being shown around a museum or art gallery and I’m being offered a perspective on the art I never would’ve thought of otherwise.
I also really related to what you said here — “In any case, it was at this point that I decided to stop thinking about “anti-action”. I concentrated instead on appreciating the works simply for the effect they had on me.”
— I try to draw my own takes on art wherever possible :)
Thank you, Michael! I was also grateful to the curators for putting the exhibition together, even if their thesis didn't quite work for me. A good chance to see some impressive art.
Definitely :)
This a great essay. Why does gender always have to get in the way of great art. There are tough women and weak men! Apologies, I just destroyed the paradigm. I don't care. Let the artistic not be enslaved by gender obligation. Let the nongenderal spirit live with all the fury it can muster. I don't know what the artistic curator, oh faux, but such aggressive Japanese women (is that a contradiction?) oh faux is french or hindi where I could say ooaf, pretty much same translation shrugging off the gender insults day of the day, directed towards the modern gender less women samurai whose bright colors boldly shine. And the hidden huge sword they carry. In the feudal samurai thrillers the women warrior sometimes wipes out all the men just to appear well sensai samurai schooled! Jeffrey, thanks for having us look at bold bright colors in a different way. I admire the shape shifting like in a gender anger conversation. The Japanese women warriors salute their South Asian women warrior cousins who rout and destroy their patriarchal enemies, the Menabad armies consigned to the odd off center world of upper and lower Menabad. I like the shape shifting of the big little Rock which looks a little like a moldering baseball glove or the small half side of a fallen off fugitive toupee. Thanks for this post. Always good to shake things up a bit! Also the all wound up Menabad who wind up in hell so ticked off!
Beautiful as always.
🙏🙏🙏 Thank you, Evelyn! I’m glad you liked the artwork.
Thank you Jeffrey. This was all new to me - and fascinating. I think what struck me most, was a reaffirmation of the idea about art being a relationship between the maker and the viewer. What is it that draws us to some works and not others? What does 'like’ mean? Are we wrong to search for meaning in works like these?
The very fact that what we are looking at provokes such questions, might even be the whole point….
Thank you, Liz. I like to dig around in my mind for how I’m reacting to certain works and to explore the effect they are having on me. But I feel relaxed about finding a meaning in them. I don’t think it’s wrong to look for a meaning, as long as we are open to the fact that there may not be one, if you see what I mean…
Exactly. Examining your own reactions…
I love Yamazuki’s “Work”. Thank you for sharing these artists, whose works I would otherwise certainly never see.
Even though I enjoy color, I found myself most intrigued by Keiko Akana's work. Red, in my opinion, in great quantities is not an easy color to pull off. Thank you, Jeffrey, for taking us on a little educational journey through the exhibition!
Very cool, I must go! And now I'll have something to think about as I view...
Relatedly, I saw there is a Moriko Mori show starting in October which is pretty major.
Thanks for the tip about the Mariko Mori exhibition, Kate. Looks like it will be Mori at the Mori: https://www.mori.art.museum/en/exhibitions/marikomori/index.html
Ps I believe I saw it in the FT weekend which I am now getting delivered here. Not expensive! So happy about this.
That’s right! I’m coming for it. Hope to get up there sooner as well…
Thanks for this virtual exhibition tour. I sometimes miss going to museums. There are so many wonderful works out there to discover and enjoy.
There are indeed!
Jeffrey, have you ever read any of Minimalist sculptor Ann Truitt's journals, several of which go a long way to help people understand the challenges (discrimination being one, and still the order of the day) women face as artists. Truitt was born in Baltimore, Md., and was well-known in the DMV and today is regarded as a major figure.
That term "action painting" was often used when the subject was Jackson Pollock. When Helen Frankenthaler, who had a intimate relationship with the critic Clement Greenberg, a rival of Rosenberg, adopted some of the more physical techniques such as drip painting (she also used to get on ladders and paint from on high), she was labeled imitative. Interestingly, her use of paint diluted with turpentine was taken up by Morris Louis (whose canvases I love) and Kenneth Noland and others of the Washington Color School. She was not without influence, in my opinion.
I don't get why the artists in your essay were described as "anti-action" except as a way, perhaps to insult them. Some of these works, it seems to me, are imbued with a great deal of energy, if not in technique or style then certainly in the image created and the paint colors used.
You write that you "decided to stop thinking about 'anti-action.' I concentrated instead on appreciating the works simply for the effect they had on me." That sentence is, for me, a wholly honest one and one of the many reasons I enjoy reading your reviews of art exhibitions. (I also would cite John-Paul and Rona for the same reason.) I along ago stopped reading wall text while viewing a show, and it is very rare that you'll find me wearing headphones. Although I own many, many exhibition catalogues, I purchase them primarily so I can "do slow art" - spend concentrated time looking at the images after I've seen the originals in person. If I don't have an immediate feeling about an artwork, I move on.
The artwork here that especially gets my attention, and that I have never seen before, is Akana's "Objects in the Space." Yes, "haunting" indeed. And interesting that she has used the definitive "the" in her title. What space? I see in the image shadowy figures in a world that the atomic bomb and nuclear weapons of all kinds have left destroyed and dangerous, and at a tipping point. I also find "Growth I" to have a strong pull, especially as it follows "Objects in the Space." Cancer cells?
You've done us all a great service by making images of these artists' works available. I will come back to explore the links. Keep writing!
By the way, an artist friend of mine in D.C. always tries to find out when local museums are throwing out wall text and other kinds of exhibition materials, such as wallpapers. She gathers what she can from dumpsters and uses it in various collaged paintings she and her husband, also an artist, make.
Thank you, Maureen. I learn so much from your comments! I'm pretty sure the person who coined the phrase anti-action int his context was not trying to slight the artists in any way. Her essay is appreciative. But I remain unsure about whether her thesis stands up. I'm glad to hear you like the Akana work as much as I do. I was also intrigued by the definite article in the title. But the I reflected recalled that the English title was probably just a translation from the Japanese. Japanese has no articles, so in a case like this, it would come down to the translator's judgement which article to use, if any. However, the use of "the" remains intersting even with that in mind, as the questions that you identifiy are already formed.
Thanks for introducing me to Japanese female artists! I have to embarrassingly admit that I had no (and still have very little) exposure to. I always learn from your essays, Jeffrey! 🙏
BTW, Yamasaki’s Work is my favorite in this post!
There's no cause for embarrassment, Yi! They were mostly new to me, too. These artists are generally little known here, in fact.
It is striking but unsurprising to see anti-art passed off as art even in Japan, so noxiously infective has the decadence of Western hacks invaded consciousness worldwide. In Taiwan, young Taiwanese make the noise known as heavy metal and call it music. The tradition of abstract coloration of useful wares, like cups and bowls is very ancient; but without a function, and being impenetrable of its meaningfulness, if any was intended, its lack of cogency and even of intended design, what is passed off as "art" litters the walls of museums originally established to display what they now disdain. See my essay on the Kinder "Modern Art" wing ofthe Houston Texas Museum of Fine Arts, "Museum of the Joke," at birthofVenus.substack.com, if interested in the ideas I set forth in argument.