Changing Museum Rituals: Part 3

This is a multi-part blog post. Read Part 1 and Part 2, and check back next week for Part 4.

Visitor with Red Song

Visitor with Franz Erhard Walther’s “Red Song”

After trying my own hand at interacting with Franz Erhard Walther’s Red Song, I stood in the gallery and admired the true beauty of this piece that at first glance I hadn’t understood. Soon, two visitors, Janet and Cate, entered the gallery. After reading the Red Song text and checking which piece it was referring to, they put the provided plastic covers over their shoes and carefully walked over. As they began this process, I noticed how their body language changed. When they entered the gallery, they were confined and quiet; now they became curious, talkative, and lively, echoing my own experience. They removed the hanging items and draped them over their bodies in different fashions. Janet had turned what I thought was an apron into a cape, and Cate had taken two arm pieces and made an entire jacket. When they finished, I asked both women two questions: “what are your thoughts on interactive art?” and “what was your overall experience?”

Janet: “Interactive art is great. We (all) would like to touch more art. I didn’t understand it at first, but I don’t think you need to understand it to really enjoy it. I thought it was a great experience!”
Cate: “You are taught at an early age that a museum is a place confined by rules, but this piece is very inviting. It definitely breaks your expectation of what art is, which makes it fun. Being able to interact with it is immediate. You don’t have to think about it. It really reminded me of playing make believe, or dress up.”

I also spoke with Museum Assistant and Registrar’s Intern Jimin:
“This is interesting to see in a museum considering we have been taught to not touch the artwork. Overall I didn’t understand the subject, but I was still able to appreciate my experience with it. This whole concept is eye-catching. Once I became a part of the sculpture, I realized it’s three different pieces. Is it supposed to be one outfit worn by one person, or three different people? Why is it red? What was the artist’s intention?”

Gina Cashia, Marketing & Communications Intern

ArtGrams: It’s in the Details

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Closeup of Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party from Instagrammer @mariliazim

You’ve been taking advantage of that camera zoom and getting into the heart of the works on view at the Phillips. For this month’s ArtGrams, we’re sharing some of our favorite detail shots from visitors.

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Detail shot of Per Kirkeby’s Untitled (2012) , a recent gift from art collector and dealer Michael Werner, by @elevenrivington

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Instagrammer @rebecouli snapped a closeup of Mark Rothko’s Green and Maroon (1953)

Closeups_eyeofsi

Instagrammer @eyeofsi went beyond the frame for this detail shot of one of our fireplaces: “Tetris, seats, or retired fireplace?”

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Detail of Annette Messager’s installation Mes petites effigies (My Little Effigies) (1989-90) by Instagrammer @jeffreysartfeed

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Detail shot of Paul Klee’s Arab Song (1932) by Instagrammer @dantonlpz

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Instagrammer @tuckerwonders zoomed in on this moment in Pierre-August Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party

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Wolfgang Laib’s wax room, a permanent installation at the Phillips, is a popular photo stop with visitors, but Instagrammer @goffashley’s closeup captures an exceptionally intimate perspective.

Changing Museum Rituals: Part 2

This is a multi-part blog post. Read Part 1 here, and check back in the following weeks for parts 3 and 4.

Gina Cashia with Red Song_1

Interacting with “Red Song”

Upon first glance, Franz Erhard Walther’s Red Song can be perceived as three red cloth lockers lined up next to one another with three red coats hanging inside. The artist asks the viewer to carefully untie the item hanging in the box and interact with it (visitors to the Phillips are invited to activate this piece between 2–3 pm daily). Although there is nearby text that supports the interaction between art and viewer, people are still hesitant. When I spoke to Museum Assistants about the presence of the interactive piece, their responses, in my opinion, weren’t surprising. They tell me interaction has been limited because people are afraid to touch the work or get in trouble, even with the text offering permission. This fear of art, or fear of interaction, is might come from the rituals that were created and associated with museums. In a world where rules are meant to be followed, how can museums eliminate that sense of fear?

When I first saw Red Song, I thought it was an installation, potentially referencing hazmat tents and suits. I did not realize it was an interactive piece until I spoke with a staff member. To see how others reacted to the piece, I staked out the gallery for a bit. During my first observation, I hoped one of the four people in the space would start participating. Their interaction didn’t extend beyond talking to one another about what it could be. The second experience I had with Red Song was much different; I both observed and interacted. At first I was cautious when I began untying the items and delicately placed them on my body. After I became more acquainted with the piece, though, I found myself being drawn back to my childhood, reliving memories of dressing up and living in an imaginative moment. The next thing I knew, I had spent 20 minutes dressing, undressing, tying, untying. This piece made me wonder what the compositional structure references, and if it’s supposed to have multiple people interacting with it at once or one person at a time.

Gina Cashia, Marketing & Communications Intern