Rethinking art museums in the age of #MeToo

(Photo: Laurelyn Savannah Photography)

Silence fell over the room at Christie’s one recent evening in New York as a painting of a prepubescent girl wearing nothing but a string of pearls and a pink ribbon in her hair was called up for sale.

The painting by Pablo Picasso was described by the auction house as representing “all that defines humanity” and expected to attract a crowd of bidders that would drive the price far above the official estimate of $100 million, as is often the case for such high-profile sales in today's art market. Except it didn't. Bidding for 'Young Girl with Basket of Flowers' never really took off and the hammer came down at $102 million, according to news reports.

Is it possible that our cultural #MeToo moment dampened enthusiasm for a painting of a nude girl by one of art history’s most reputed misogynists, an artwork the late writer Gertrude Stein described as lovely, complicated, disturbing and repellent?

In the same week that the Baltimore Museum of Art was making headlines for deciding to sell off artworks by men in order to buy others by women and artists of color, were institutions that might have previously jumped at a Picasso given pause?

With a certain sense of urgency, art institutions across the country are reconsidering their missions as they contend with the implications of the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, as they have been with #BlackLivesMatter. 

Here in Milwaukee, these discussions present both pressures and opportunities for visual art institutions, where we’ve seen an infusion of female leadership in recent years, including women who have been increasing the visibility of marginalized artists long before our current moment of reckoning.

“What we're learning in real time along with the rest of the world – and hoping – is that this really is a turning point in history,” says Marcelle Polednik, director of the Milwaukee Art Museum.

“I think this moment in time is a very significant one for us … in terms of how it's shaping the future of art history and the future of museum work,” she added. “We welcome that. We welcome that complexity, we welcome the conversation.”

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It’s been a full generation or two since art historians such as Linda Nochlin and Griselda Pollock suggested the canon of art needed more than an infusion of female Michelangelos or artists of color. What they rightly called for is a rethinking of the waysthe stories of art get told.

In practical terms that means correcting, complicating and providing alternatives to dominant art world myths, especially the legend of the lone, male genius.

You know the guy. He drinks and smokes into the night, debating the meaning of art with his “circle.” He bewitches women, churns through lovers and is always on the prowl for a muse. Sometimes he shuffles about an art studio, scratching and flinging violently at canvases. That is when genius descends, like a lightning bolt from the gods. 

That pretty much sums up the primary plot points of recent artist biopics about Alberto Giacometti and Picasso, “The Final Portrait” now in theaters (and mercifully gone from Milwaukee) and National Geographic’s series “Genius,” lest we think these myths aren’t alive and kicking in 2018.

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These are caricatures, simple outlines that lack the unruly and fascinating complexity of any good biography. More than that, though, these kinds of stories often paint the suffering of women as collateral damage in the service of male inspiration.

The Close conundrum

It would be too simple to blame these kinds of myths for the sexual harassment claims arising in the art world and other creative fields, but we’d be remiss to miss the connection. Some of the women who accused contemporary artist Chuck Close of inappropriate behavior, for instance, described being “overcome by his prestige,” according to a report in Hyperallergic. 

In the wake of those allegations, which Close has denied, calling them “lies,” the National Gallery of Art in Washington indefinitely postponed a major Close exhibition earlier this year. 

Close, known for his inventive, photorealist portraits, has also been much discussed of late among staff at MAM and the Haggerty Museum of Art, where major works by the artist have been on view.

For a generation, scholars told us to ignore the facts of an artist’s life, that the art object had a kind of purity that should be considered in isolation. That’s an idea that’s been giving way for a while and that seems to be in a death spiral now.

The plan at MAM is to write new wall text for the monumental portrait that reflects Close’s role as it relates to gender inequity. The curatorial staff are also considering programs that would allow for a more open discussion of such issues.

“We've spent quite a bit of time talking about Chuck Close and not only Chuck Close but virtually every male artist that hangs in the museum galleries,” Polednik says, adding that every art object has “a very complex narrative” that can change over time, even posthumously.

Milwaukee Art Museum director Marcelle Polednik says the museum is thinking hard about both its collection and how to present artworks in the wake of the #MeToo movement. (Photo: Mike De Sisti/Milwaukee Journal Sentinel)

For decades, most museums have been “acquisition machines,” Polednik says. The trend in recent years, and especially now, however, is for museums to scrutinize what they have and the stories they've been telling.

This is trickiest for encyclopedic museums like MAM, where the breadth of art history is explored in the permanent collection galleries, where works by Picasso and Close are proudly hung and works by women and artists of color conspicuously absent.

By my count, only 14 of the 81 artworks on view in MAM’s contemporary galleries – ostensibly the art of our time – were made by women. Artists of color are also in the minority. Those numbers are hardly atypical.

One strategy is to stage interventions into the canon, to inject temporary exhibits into the permanent collection galleries that point to a museum’s failings, something Polednik favors. Last year, a show of Guerrilla Girls’ posters that expose inequities was staged in MAM’s contemporary galleries before the rise of #MeToo, for instance. “When racism and sexism are no longer fashionable, what will your art collection be worth?” reads one poster by the feminist collective, known for its humor, guerrilla masks and hardcore statistics.

MAM is also talking about how to 'double down' on significant works that aren't by men, like Eva Hesse's prominently displayed fiberglass sculpture 'Right After,' through programming of some kind, Polednik says.

The Haggerty is about to undertake a full review of its permanent collection with issues of diversity in mind and will reconsider its collecting and exhibition priorities. One of the goals is to address today's societal reckoning by not hiding away controversial artworks, says Emilia Layden, curator of collections and exhibitions

'You have to be sure you are not internalizing in a way that manifests as self-censorship,' says Susan Longhenry, The Haggerty's director and chief curator. 'That is one of the most insidious possible consequences.' 

Polly Morris, who administers the Mary L. Nohl Fellowship for individual artists, the most prestigious local prize for individual artists, is working on a study of the fellowship’s 15-year record of diversity. Winners have been largely white and male, particularly in the earliest years of the award, says Morris, who is also executive director of the Lynden Sculpture Garden.

Reaching conclusions is challenging, though, as the ways that contemporary artists identify themselves have grown more complex, Morris says. Some reject the “artist of color” label, for instance. Others want to emphasize their mixed-ness or don’t wish to be 'othered' at all. Some white men resent being identified as white men.

“You know it's a radically changed environment,” says Morris. “People are constantly revisiting various categorizations that come freighted with ideologies.”

Diversity, after all, is not about gender or race in isolation. It is about the intersection of a range of issues that also includes sexual identities, gender identities, generations, cultures, ethnicities, physical abilities, points of view and artistic lineages.