The Wonderful World of Art

Recently, I visited the Museum of Arts and Design at Columbus Circle. (You may remember the museum's controversial transformation of Edward Durell Stone’s 1964 “Lollipop Building” a few years back.) I admit with some shame that this was my first time at the museum. The impetus for my visit was an exhibit called Otherworldly: Optical Delusions and Small Realities. The show is fantastic—literally. Michael McMillen’s The Studio (2004), Charles Matton’s Bibliotheque avec un souvenir d’Anna (2004), and Matt Collishaw’s zoetrope, Garden of Unearthly Delights (2009), are pure magic, while other artists let the viewer peek behind the curtain, so to speak, by juxtaposing models with the photos taken from them. Notable among the latter are Frank Kunert’s hilarious and disturbing Office Nap (2010) and Menu à Deux (2009).

Part of the enjoyment of these objects is the wonder of it all—wonder not only at the optical tricks that they play, but also at the ingenuity, patience, and skill demanded by works of such tiny perfection. We are in the world of the artisan, and there is satisfaction in a thing well-made.

It seems to me that it is, at least in part, this satisfaction that has made television shows like “Project Runway” and “Top Chef” immensely popular. The interpersonal drama is there, of course, but the real drama is in the process of designing and cooking, conceptualizing something and executing it successfully. Interestingly, Bravo’s foray into the art world with “Work of Art: The Next Great Artist,” has been far less successful. The show, which premiered in June 2010 and supposedly has been renewed for a second season, is, like its fashion and food forebears, task- and deadline-oriented.

This blog suggests that the boundary between art and entertainment is blurring, and yet, I was taken aback by “Work of Art” and its glib treatment of artistic discourse. Romantic notions of the isolated artist working in his (always his) studio have been passé since the 1960s, but a televised art competition was too much for me. To be sure, some of the artists possessed formidable skills, and there was some fun in watching them fabricate their works, but the enjoyment ended there. (Tellingly, the show relied heavily on interpersonal conflict to generate interest.) Though art and fashion circulate in the same luxury marketplace, art is distinguished by a certain kind of excess, something above and beyond its materials ... isn't it?

Postscript, 7/22:

What is art, anyway? The Oakland Museum of California's art gallery asks precisely this in something called the "Is It Art? Lounge." Viewers are asked to choose on a touch screen which of three cups is art. The best (and bravest) part of this exercise is that the screen tells you whether you're right, as determined by the staff of the museum. Elsewhere in the lounge you can vote by ballot (see image at right). This is the kind of populist thing (featured throughout the Oakland Museum's galleries) that you either love or hate. Me, I'm still deciding; the execution is pretty winning.