Way Finding & the Social Museum

open storage at the Met Museum
Open Storage: Luce Center at the Met

I can’t say this enough: museums are best when they are social experiences. The happiest moment of my day came early, when I was in the Ipswich room of the American wing. Another iPad toting guy and I talked about the lowness of the ceiling, the large fireplace, the bed, and how cozy the room was. (I told him to go to Plimoth if he got a chance.) but it was exciting to talk and share: that’s the best part of discovery, and that’s what museums are about. They’re about finding things, or yourself, or ideas.

The Luce Center was nearly empty of people. A school passed through on their way to someplace else, but I had it pretty much to my self. None of the computers were being used. I saw very few of any screened devices used in the Museum, aside from personal devices.

baby rattle at the Met
Late 17th-early 18th century rattle. Appears to be missing its coral

The Met collection is astounding, no doubt. But I was pleased to see that there are some finer pieces in Rhode Island storerooms and museum rooms. And I think that the way finding could use some real attention. The MFA, last time I was there, had it down: interns, stationed throughout the galleries, to ask if you needed directions whenever you looked lost. NY, not so friendly but maybe more necessary. Also, the galley number for one show I wanted to see was not even included in its web listing. That was a serious annoyance, but I was able to find it eventually.

Replica furniture at the MFA Boston
American Wing at the MFA Boston

The installations are excellent, though standard and in some cases unimaginative. I know: I just dissed the Met. And I’m sticking with that. The exploded chest in the Luce storage wing was one of the best items spotted. I’d say that when it comes to furniture, American furniture, the MFA bests the Mets installation. And I like some other period rooms just as well. Like my own. They just need to be cleaner. What’s wrong with those housemaids? Oh, right. One’s in England, and the other one’s exhausted from her trip back from New York.

Punk is Dead and Buried at the Met

So, I went to New York yesterday and spent the day at the Met. It was a good, if epically long, trip. I saw everything my feet could bear. One show I even went through twice, Punk: Chaos to Couture. I was trying to “get” it.

The [In]famous Bathroom
The [In]famous Bathroom

Punk got a lot of hype in the NYer and the NYT but it was the least imaginative installation in the Museum. Oh, so what about the CBGB bathroom! If we had to walk through it to get to the gallery, now that would be something. Instead, the bathroom and the “store” are offset, afterthoughts to the main drag, which is a drag.

Hall of Classics. Worship these Gods of Fashion.
Hall of Classics. Worship these Gods of Fashion.

The galleries main attractions are mannequins lined up as if on a catwalk, above us, so couture, so not punk. Rainbow colored spike wigs do not make Gianni Versace punk. Or, honestly, Vivienne Westwood at this late juncture, let alone Zandra Rhodes. I found the mannequins trite, and the clothing uninspired and only vaguely reminiscent of what I remember of punk.

Naked Raygun at the Metro

As for the store: I never shopped at Clothes for Heroes, or even Trash & Vaudeville (I had to send my Dad for my Johnson’s motorcycle boots) but I did buy Trash & Vaudeville label and band t shirts at Wax Trax, in the back. I wore the zip minis and fishnet stockings (real stockings) and vintage from the AmVets. I made my own tshirts, with spray paint, markers, and my dad’s castoffs. And even in 1980 Chicago, even at The Exit or Lucky Number or the Cubby Bear, I knew I was ersatz. I knew I was not really punk.

Graffiti & Agitpror
Graffiti & Agitpror

The Met show shines with the Alexander McQueen dresses. They are by far the most interesting and best made pieces. They’re clearly genius. Everything else, save for Rei Kawakubo, is merely derivative.

The sections of the show, Hardware, Graffiti & Agitprop, and Destroy, make sense. Yes, safety pins, chains, spikes and belts (hardware) were typical. Slogans and hand-made clothes, also typical, as well as shredded (purposeful or not, often not, but worn), are fitting descriptors or sub-genres of the punk aesthetic. But the clothes displayed disappointed and dismayed, a grand “So what?” And why?

Maybe it’s Andy Warhol, Mr. Anti-Punk in my mind. But I think it is the great postmodernist movement, where by at this point anything once ironic or referential is now merely self-referential. Punk could have a sense of humor. With few exceptions (Kawabuko, mostly) the clothes in this show lack the intelligence for humor, let alone politics.

Am I glad I went? Yes, absolutely. Because now I know there are bigger risks to take installing shows, and I’m ready to think about what they might be. I’d put a couple of those Kawabuko black-sleeve dresses, or McQueen’s black “bubble-wrap” gowns on display with over in Impressionism, Fashion and Modernity, and see what happens. That’s when chaos and couture would really meet.

The Business

Sotheby's sale June 11 2013
Fine Books & Manuscripts, June 11, 2013

I’m in this business, so I shouldn’t be bothered. I have been a seller and a buyer, and I’m a card-carrying member of Team Hoarder, AKA the Curators. So why does this bother me?

This sale features a strong selection of modern authors highlighted by Property from the Descendants of William Faulkner, including the manuscript of his Nobel Prize speech with the gold Nobel medal and diploma (1950), autograph letters written to his mother from Paris in 1925, the typescript book of his poem sequence “Vision in Spring” in a handmade binding by the author, drawings, corrected typescripts and other items.

You’d think I’d know better by now: Life isn’t an Indiana Jones movie, and no amount of saying “It belongs in a museum!” will help matters along.

More and more I see the cultural economy–and the disposition of cultural goods–following the “winner takes all” pattern of the larger economy. I give you Walmart, and Walmart gives you the Crystal Bridges Museum of Art. The FAQ’s deny any tie to Walmart stores, but Alice Walton founded the museum. For a lot of people, that’s a connection to Walmart. The claim that there is no connection seems even more disingenuous when you visit the homepage and read “General admission to Crystal Bridges is sponsored by Walmart. There is no cost to view the Museum’s permanent collection, which is on view year-round.”

The people of Arkansas deserve a nice museum; everyone does–that’s not my point. My point is that private collectors can buy, and keep from public hands, important pieces of material cultural and cultural heritage. Faulkner’s work post-Nobel may have paled compared to earlier work, but he won the Nobel–score one for Southern Literature and the power of Faulkner’s words, the sway he held over American letters.

Also in what is shaping up to be a very wordy sale: “[O]ne of possibly as few as three intact 1924 recordings of Joyce reading Ulysses.” Joyce reading Ulysses. That’s pretty damn cool. Lucky for you and me, if we’re word fans, you can listen to another recording here, thanks to The Public Domain Review.

Would an online photo, or a magazine photo, of Faulkner’s medal ever be as good as the online version of Joyce’s reading? No,  I don’t think so.  Because there is a power in the authentic, in the real. And the medal is material, three-dimensional: sound waves over an internet speaker wouldn’t be as frisson-inducing as listening to a recording in a darkened library, but they’re still sound waves.

Authenticity will be the subject of an upcoming session at AAM’s Annual Meeting in Baltimore, and though I can’t be there, I’m following as best I can.

Authenticity is something reenactors strive for in their work. Museums present authentic– real– objects and experiences. I sit the gallery and one of the most common questions people ask is, “Is it real?” and when told, “Yes, it is,” they gasp a little.

So when museums and libraries are priced out of the auction or private sale market, what does that mean? It means less public access to authentic items, to the “real,” three-dimensional evidence of the past.

We’re choosy, of course: it could well be that the University of Virginia did not want these items. Perhaps they did not contribute materially to Faulkner scholarship–the medal wouldn’t, really, would it? But the additional papers and letters might, but would be hard to justify at $250,000-$350,000.

Private collectors, people who can afford a $286,000 watch, drive up prices. Museums that can attract major donors attract more major donors.

MET MFA RIHS NHS
2011 Income $470,048,040 $157,082,067 $3,440,281 $615,008

That’s a chart of the 2011 income for the Met, the MFA, the RIHS, and the Newport Historical Society. All four have decorative art, art, and textile collections. All four would be interested in pieces of Newport furniture. Two are art museums, two are historical societies. Only one has the financial power to bid for major pieces.

And then there’s Crystal Bridges: 2011 revenue? $625,995,749. Sorry Met, you were just outdone by $155,947,709. Over one hundred and fifty-five million dollars. Dr. Evil is beyond impressed. The Crystal Bridges Form 990 includes a donor list with $700,000 from Cisco Systems. Nicely done. With endowment return of just a little more than $16 million, and  $37 million for “museum procurement expenses,”  they need those donations to stay healthy financially. But that $37 million buys a lot of art.  And where does that leave smaller museums and collecting organizations?

Pretty much where Walmart left small businesses: highly specialized but small.

And what does that mean for Faulkner’s papers, or a Plunket Fleeson chair?

Chances are they’ll be in private hands, accumulating value.