Tuesday, September 22, 2009
After Abstraction, Then What?
Which, for me, begs the question: if abstraction is now the favored flavor of the American masses, what will the new cool be?
-John Marciari, Curator of European Art at the San Diego Museum of Art
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Gallery has Launched
(L-R) Scott Dunklee, Keith York (Co-Chair),
Kimberly Primerano (Member Chair), Sam Dychter (Co-Chair)
I'm thrilled to share that The San Diego Museum of Art's newest group for adventures in art & culture is off the ground. Last Thursday, September 10, The Gallery Steering Committee welcomed a bevy of new bodies to the Museum for fine Spanish wine and tapas to celebrate two current exhibitions of modern masterpieces: Picasso, Miró, Calder and Calder Jewelry. The group was greeted by Deputy Director
The event was generously underwritten by Steering Committee members Scott Dunklee, Sam Dychter, Keith York, and Kimberly Primerano. Other Gallery members in attendance included
Guests ponied up to the membership bar and signed on for a year of exclusive benefits and great new art experiences offered by the Museum. Next up, Culture & Cocktails—this is art for all, people. Following C&C is November’s “Collecting 101” where Gallery members are treated to a private reception at a local art gallery. Are you ready? Sign up. Call Jennifer Gilderman at (619) 696-1918 or email thegallery@sdmart.org
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Thursday, September 17, 2009
Art Bite: Double Header at L Street
Richard Allen Morris’ first solo show was back in 1959 after he served in the Korean War. Since that time his Abstract Expressionist framework has translated well from oil on canvas, to assemblage and collage, and portrays wit in such disparate themes as guns and portraits. You may have come across the show (and coffee table book) Richard Allen Morris: Retrospective, 1958-2005, an exhibition of 150 paintings made over the course of his fifty-year career organized by Museum Haus Lange and shown at the Museum of Contemporary Art, San Diego. Richard’s work has been represented well by R.B. Stevenson Gallery in La Jolla.
The work of local artist Tom Driscoll is rooted in San Diego’s history of gallery spaces like The Pawn Shop, 552 Gallery, Newmyer, Quint Gallery and Sumay Space. Driscoll grew up in this burgeoning art community and eventually garnered critical acclaim for his work. Best known for his cast cement and large-scale sculptures the artist is currently producing an intriguing series of cast epoxy – on view at Double Header.
Double Header is the final exhibition of the 2009 San Diego Art Prize season. The San Diego Art Prize is given annually to “established and emerging artists who have exhibited outstanding achievement in the field of visual arts.” This year’s show is sponsored by the San Diego Visual Art's Network, SanDiegoArtist.com and the Omni San Diego Hotel. The show kicks off Saturday, September 19th (and runs through November 20) with an opening reception slotted between the hours of 7-9 p.m. at 628 L Street, San Diego, CA 92101.
From Keith York, Co-Chair of The Gallery
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
More Picasso (and why not?)
Returning to Picasso: we have his first major print, the Frugal Repast, on view in the exhibition. In 1913, this was issued as part of the so-called Suite des Saltimbanques, a group of 15 prints that Picasso had designed back in 1904-05. It's his first masterpiece, one of the iconic images of his early career.
prints from the Suite des Saltimbanques. Looking at it, I think that the first things you notice are 1. that the paper is darkened (i.e. burnt) and 2. that there are brown foxing spots. The condition becomes the focus, not the print. And in contrast to all those prints that we have in brilliant impressions, there seems little point to have included this in the display. It's great to have the print as part of the collection, but in an exhibition that is about showing off highlights, it just doesn't make the grade.
So what has happened to it? Why the burn? Why those spots? There is some debate as to what causes foxing, but the general consensus is that the spots are inherent defects in paper, which become more visible with exposure to air, humidity, etc. In fact, many of the impressions of this print (and of the entire suite) that come to the market have some foxing, although perhaps not to this extent. Ambrose Vollard, Picasso's dealer, chose bad paper, one that in time has shown its defects. (It was 1913 and wove paper was still relatively new, so let's not be too hard on him.) The darkening of the paper is more straightforward. It results from exposure to light at high levels or for a long time. Our print is still in the frame in which we received it, and turning it around, the "long exposure to light" comes clear. Each of those labels represents some exhibition to which it was lent (most of them, it should be noted, date to years before the print was given to the Museum). The Head of a Woman in Profile spent a lot of time in the light, and it suffered because of it. It's no surprise that the fragile paper has darkened. And this, you see, is why we don't leave this or any other print on permanent display. Multiply this case by a few thousand similar objects, and you understand why only 10% of the collection is on view at any time.
I want to end with another object not on view. The Salimbanques Suite was issued in an edition of 250. Afterwards, the copper plates were cancelled - scratched out - to prevent further impressions from being made. In addition to the scratches, this particular plate was inscribed "biffe" (scratched out, cancelled) and dated, 29 October 1913. Often, the publishers ran off a number of impressions after the cancellation, perhaps to reassure buyers that their prints really were from a limited edition. The cancelled-plate impressions, however, have eventually become collector's objects in their own right. That's a bit of a long and complicated story to tell in a wall label, and it would have distracted from the main thrust of Picasso, Miro, Calder. It's really something more for a general "History of the Print" exhibition. But after bringing up the Head of a Woman in Profile, I couldn't resist showing the cancelled-plate impression as well. Print-collecting curiosity aside, this impression hasn't been too often exhibited, so despite the scratches, it gives a much better sense of what the print is meant to look like. -John Marciari, Curator of European Art at the San Diego Museum of Art
Monday, September 7, 2009
New Rules: "Please Don't Lick the Art"
Minneapolis Institute of ArtsPortrait of Catherine Coustard (1673-1728), Marquise of Castelnau, Wife of Charles-Léonor Aubry (1667-1735) with her Son Léonor (1695-1770)
Nicolas de Largillière c.1699
This really takes passion for the arts to a new level. Recently on rounds at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, museum guard Tim Piowtrowski discovered a young patron deeply enamored with a 17th-century portrait of the French aristocrat Catherine Coustard. The young gal was so taken by the rich blue gown that the guard actually had to say, "Please don't lick the art."
I've visited a number of museums myself, with two young boys in tow. Even at our own Museum I've made a mad dash to save a Matta Matta Clark installation from the happy feet of a 4 year old and we've been warned by the guards not to touch the Buddha. God how embarrassing! To this day, I can safely say my children have not gone so far as to lick the art. I can't say they haven't been tempted though...
To celebrate this lovely anecdote MIA has come out with T-shirts bearing this phrase, for $22.50. Ahhh capitalism.
From Sarah Beckman, mother of art-loving twins and Associate Director of Development at The San Diego Museum of Art.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Art Bite: Beyond the Border
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A Random Rembrandt Story
In preparation for our upcoming exhibition From Rembrandt's Studio: The Prints of Ferdinand Bol, I've been reading Catherine Scallen's Rembrandt, Reputation, and the Practice of Connoisseurship. One amusing thing mentioned in the Introduction: in 1851, Delacroix wrote in his diary that "someday, perhaps, Rembrandt would be seen as the equal of Raphael." This is a pretty good lesson in how radically tastes change: 150 years later, it would be hard to find many people who would rather see a Raphael than a Rembrandt.






