Throughout this semester, I had the opportunity to work with my peers to develop an interpretive project mostly from scratch. I emphasize the word mostly here because we were fortunate enough to find inspiration from Tufts’s very own Art Datathon, an event hosted by the …
One of the best parts of living in an increasingly digitized era is the greater access to things we may never otherwise encounter. For me, that means seeing museums and exhibits across the globe that were, at one point, completely out of reach. One such …
I’ve recently fallen in love with the New York Time’s Close Read series, a digital exploration of a select number of works that serves as a fantastic introduction to interpretation and, well, close reading. The format itself is very user friendly and as someone who has little professional training in the arts, the information feels comfortable and approachable, not at all didactic or overly wordy. As I’ve been parsing through this series, I came across one that has been sitting in my mind all weekend.
In Memory of My Feelings – Frank O’Hara (1961)
“How a Gray Painting Can Break Your Heart” by Jason Farago is an in-depth exploration of Jasper Johns’s “In Memory of My Feelings – Frank O’Hara.” My immediate impression of the piece was underwhelming and frankly, I thought it was another abstract piece of art that would be far out of reach for me. “In Memory of My Feelings” is a gray painting; it is literally 99% gray and even the physical attachments of wire and spoon and fork are all gray. So, to me, not only was this piece at first glance dull, but it was also rather depressing. However, Farago explores this color and its meaning within the piece beautifully using Close Read‘s digital format. Farago’s narration is accompanied by a smooth transition between zoomed-in shots of specific pieces of the work and larger holistic views of the entire canvas.
This easy access is important for both visitors and educators who may not be entirely familiar with Jasper Johns and his gestural paintings. Not only do we get Farago’s interpretation of what these specific aspects of the piece mean, but we also get a refined look at the piece as a whole; we can pick up on subtle nuances in the gray that our untrained eyes may have otherwise missed. For me, I didn’t even pick up on the presence of any words on the canvas, but Farago highlights the importance of the raised “A DEAD MAN” lettering (and even goes so far as to give reference points for those like me who still struggled to find the phrase in the gray).
“In Memory of My Feelings” is a difficult piece; it is heavy, it is grieving, and it is at times frustratingly vague. As educators, we are often faced with these difficult works and the even more difficult conversations that accompany them. Farago’s method of interpretation here can be a useful tool for educators looking for a way to facilitate these conversations because he allows the viewers and readers to digest the piece at their own rate while considering their own thoughts and feelings. He constantly comes back to the thematic color gray as a grounding piece that we can latch onto and expands each interpretation of an idea from this color gray. I am fascinated by this method for talking about grief, utilizing something as universal as color to connect audiences to a concept that is uncomfortable, yet well-known today. And I feel that there is even more to be learned from Farago’s use of the New York Time’s Close Read format; it is an excellent way of getting viewers up close and personal with these important colors and ideas on canvas, especially in an age where being up close and personal is not always possible.
You can experience Farago’s interpretation of “In Memory of My Feelings” here and visit the Close Read series here.
Thinking about the future of museums is a large, daunting task. Where will museums stand in culture, in communities, in education? Even now, we already see museum culture shifting in both purpose and attitude. Instead of placing emphasis and value solely on collections, museums have …
This past weekend marked the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 attack that shaped the future of U.S. security regulations and international relationships. Though it is still a dark memory that haunts thousands of people today, the 20th anniversary of this event also unveils an obvious, …
The Smithsonian Institution felt the same pains that museums around the world experienced in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and its global shut downs —massive economic loss, sweeping reductions in staff, and an intense burnout as they, and museum professionals across the globe, struggled to adapt to a “new normal.” Fortunately, it appears that we are finally seeing the other side of this pandemic, and the Smithsonian has joined the likes of many others in reopening its doors to the public.
This era in the Smithsonian’s narrative will also be marked by none other than Jeff Bezos, founder and CEO of Amazon and soon-to-be astronaut. Just days before his historic voyage to space through his rocket company Blue Origin, Bezos made a personal $200 million donation to the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum, the largest philanthropic donation to the institution since its founding in 1846. The gift will help complete ongoing renovations at the museum, but the majority will go towards the development of a new education center that encourages learning and exploration in STEAM fields.
The Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden is also in the midst of historic change. In 2019, artist Hiroshi Sugimoto’s proposed re-design for the Hirshhorn’s sculpture garden was approved, but not without major backlash. Sugimoto’s design drew heavily from Japanese culture and many felt that this detracted from the original concepts of museum architect Gordon Bunshaft and landscape architect Lester Collins. Though Bunshaft and Collins also used Japanese architecture as in inspiration for their work, the Hirshhorn has a largely Modernist aesthetic, and opposers of Sugimoto’s concept feared that his re-design would clash with this existing aesthetic. Some even called for Collins’s work on the sculpture garden to be included on the National Register of Historic Places. Ultimately, the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts has voted to approve Sugimoto’s design, and this change will hopefully bring a new sense of design unity to the Hirshhorn and its sculpture garden.
Since it’s founding, the Smithsonian Institution has had an incredible story of creation and change, and it is promising to see the institution continue to follow this narrative even in the wake of a global pandemic.