Showing posts with label Kathryn Methot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kathryn Methot. Show all posts

27 March 2015

BURYING THE 'CAR PARK KING': RICHARD III

WALK OF FAME

BY: KATHRYN METHOT

The famous king found buried under a parking lot has finally been laid to rest. On March 26th King Richard III's body was reinterred at Leicester Cathedral. The Cathedral was transformed for the occasion, decorated with white roses and emblems of the Plantagenet dynasty, from which Richard was the last king.

Richard had been killed during the War of the Roses in the Battle of Bosworth Field on August 22nd 1485. For many years there was a popular myth that the body of the King had been thrown into the River Soar. However, he had been given a burial in makeshift grave at the Grey Friars Church in Leicester. Richard's unassuming tomb was lost after the church was demolished during the Reformation.

A portrait of Richard III by an unknown 16th century painter. This image was not made during his lifetime but was likely based off of portraits that were (Source: National Portrait Gallery, London)

The search for his body began with the 'Looking for Richard' project. Several researchers had proposed the idea that Richard's skeleton was still buried at the original site of the Grey Friar Church, where the Leicester City Council parking lot was located. Amazingly, the team of archeologists uncovered a human skeleton on the first day of the excavation on August 25th 2012. The position of the body indicated that it had been put in a grave that was too small and without a burial shroud, which suggests that he had been buried in a hurry.

An overview of Richard III's skeleton displays his severe scoliosis (Source: University of Leicester)

The skeleton displayed several intriguing qualities and signs of lethal injuries. The back of the king's skull had been removed by a sharp object (possibly a halberd), while another wound had penetrated the top of his skull. There are also other holes in his skull and jaw that are likely from a dagger. If that wasn't enough, there are 'humiliation wounds' that were inflicted to the body post-mortem. Poor King Richard didn't stand a chance. The key to having scientific proof that the remains were Richard's came from his descendants. The mitochondrial DNA evidence at the site had a positive match to DNA taken from a direct descendant of the king's sister, Anne of York.


The discovery of the body also confirmed several accounts about the king's physical appearance. The curvature of the spine indicates that he suffered from adolescent idiopathic scoliosis. The condition would have caused his right shoulder to be raised higher than his left shoulder, reducing his height. This feature is in keeping with some contemporary accounts and depictions of the King in visual art. However, the discoveries made do not account for some of the traits described in Shakespeare's Henry VI (Act III, Scene 2, lines 1645-1650) and taken on by actors personifying the character of Richard in theatre productions. The effects of scoliosis would not have caused him to have a hunchback and there is no indication that he would have had a withered arm.

Crowds gather to commemorate the reinterment of the King (Source: Independent)

The Richard III Visitor Centre opened at the site of the exhumation in July 2014. The Centre features three sections: dynasty, death, and discovery. Together, these sections recount Richard's life and the lasting intrigue that led to his discovery. Features of the museum include a 3D printed replica of the King's skeleton and a chance to visit the site where his body had been buried for hundreds of years. The reinterment has allowed Richard to have a permanent resting place and to receive the farewell that he was not afforded at the time of his death.

Although this occasion has ended a chapter in the story of Richard III, this rediscovery has ignited an interest that will surely lead to further investigations about his life and legacy in history and culture.


12 March 2015

CONFESSIONS OF A RESEARCH ADDICT

RESEARCH COLUMN

BY: KATIE METHOT

Have you ever been in the middle of researching or writing a paper and suddenly become intrigued by a topic that is completely unrelated to what you should actually be focusing on? Have you started looking up more and more information about this topic? All of a sudden, it’s three o’clock in the morning and you have not made any progress on your paper. However, you feel a sense of accomplishment (and shame) that you could now write an entirely different paper on this new topic. If any of this sounds familiar, you might be a research addict. It’s hard to fight the urge not to spend hours looking up information on Wikipedia about how inbred the Hapsburg family really was or theories about what happened to Amelia Earhart. It’s definitely a form of procrastination, but it’s better than marathoning an entire series on Netflix. Right?

While I’ve been working on my thesis, I’ve had to stop myself many times from diving into other research. Recently, I’ve been interested in how works of art are sometimes altered. This interest developed from reading I've been doing on how early modern prints were used. As personal objects, many prints feature alterations or annotations made by those who owned them. Although works on paper were easier to alter, paintings were also often changed in a variety of ways. However, these alterations appear less obvious than the additions that were made to prints.

Titian. Venus with a Mirror. c. 1555. Oil on Canvas. National Gallery of Art, Washington (Source: NGA
An x-ray of the painting revealed a portrait of an unknown couple (Source: NGA)

Reading about these prints made me think of Titian’s Venus with a Mirror, a painting I had written about for my first art history essay. I found this particular work intriguing because it was painted over an entirely different composition. X-rays of the canvas have revealed a portrait of a couple underneath the image of Venus. Titian used portions of the man’s cloak to develop the fabric Venus uses to cover herself. Unfortunately, the identity of the couple remains a mystery.

Élisabeth Vigée-Le Brun. Marie Antoinette with her Children. 1787. Oil on Canvas. Palace of Versaille (Source: Wikipedia)

Other paintings have been altered for more tragic reasons. High mortality rates in children sometimes prompted families to remove images of their deceased infants from portraits. Élisabeth-Louise Vigée-Le Brun’s portrait of Marie Antoinette with her Children includes an empty bassinet that appears to belong to baby seated on Marie’s lap. The bassinet once featured the image of her daughter Sophie. Sophie died shortly after the portrait was finished and was painted out because the sight of her daughter caused Marie too much pain. 

Left: Rembrandt. Woman with a Pink. c. 1660s. Oil on Canvas, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; Right: Autoradiographic image revealing the early stages of the painting and the face of a child

Rembrandt’s Woman with a Pink may have a similarly tragic story. Technicians at the Metropolitan Museum of Art used autoradiography to examine the painting and discovered that a child had once been part of the original composition. The image of the child was removed during the intermediate stages of the painting. It has been speculated that the child passed away after the portrait was commissioned. Other layers of the painting have revealed changes made to the design of the woman’s mouth. Alterations may have been made to her expression as the painting changed from a portrait of a mother and child, to a mother in mourning. 

Mysteries and personal stories can be hidden in the paintings you see in museums. A look below the surface of the paint can reveal unique information that would not otherwise be seen. While we may never know why some of these alterations have been made, they provide insight into artistic processes, the lives of patrons, and the lives of works of art themselves. Not all alternations made to paintings are significant. Some works exhibit small, decorative changes: the addition of flowers, a cat, or a musical instrument. These changes are sometimes made hundreds of years later by other artists.

There are worse ways to procrastinate, so indulge yourself next time you feel the urge to dive down the research rabbit hole!

27 February 2015

REMEMBERING WALTER LIEDTKE

WALK OF FAME

BY: KATIE METHOT

This week’s Person of Note highlights the incredible career of Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met) curator Walter Liedtke. Sadly, Liedtke passed away on February 3rd  2015 after the Valhalla train crash in New York. His passing has sparked an outpour of tributes, with those who knew him or were admirers his work sharing stories about how he affected them. To glance through a few of the memories shared, it is obvious that Walter was very much loved.


Walter Liedtke in front of Peter Paul Rubens's Rubens, his Wife Helena Fourment and their son Frans. ca. 1635. Oil on Wood (source: Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Liedtke joined the Met after receiving a post-graduate Mellon Fellowship. He then became a curator of European Paintings in 1980. For the next thirty-five years, Liedtke developed exhibitions featuring Dutch and Flemish paintings. One of his most notable exhibitions was Vermeer and the Delft School (2001), which brought together fifteen of Vermeer’s thirty-four attributed paintings.  The exhibition displayed paintings by thirty artists, in addition to a selection of tapestries, ceramics, and silverware. The scope of the objects framed Vermeer’s work in the context of seventeenth-century Holland. The exhibition was successful in attracting 555,000 visitors during its three month run and resulted in the publication of the most comprehensive catalogue survey of the arts in Delft. 

Although I never personally met Liedtke, I was a great admirer of his exhibitions and publications. As an undergraduate art history student, my first experience with a ‘real-life’ Vermeer was at the Met at Liedtke’s 2009 exhibition Vermeer’s Masterpiece: The Milkmaid. The exhibition celebrated the four-hundredth anniversary of Henry Hudson’s voyage from Amsterdam to Manhattan, bringing one of Vermeer’s most celebrated works to America for the first time since 1939. This exhibition explored aspects of international trade in the Netherlands and its affect on the Dutch Golden Age. Liedtke’s passion for Dutch and Flemish art was apparent in his exhibitions and in his writing. His fondness for the Met’s collection was noted by the Director Thomas P. Campbell. In his tribute to Liedtke, Campbell wrote, "he knew those pictures like old friends, and described them with an intimacy and spirit that was mesmerizing."


Johannes Vermeer. A Maid Asleep. 1657. Oil on Canvas. Metropolitan Museum of Art (source: Wikipedia)

Outside of the Met, Liedtke and his wife Nancy raised horses at their farm in Westchester County. After the announcement of his passing the Met posted a podcast where Liedtke described his personal connection to Dutch painting. As a child, he would respond to visual patterns rather than narrative structures. He was intrigued by "the play between perception and making a picture" which may have led to his early interest in Vermeer. Liedtke described Vermeer's work as "complicated and simple, at the same time." While the pictures seem simple on the surface, his compositions were the product of careful study and observation. Liedtke believed the tranquility of Vermeer's paintings appeal to modern audiences because of the busyness in our everyday lives.

Many people who have mourned Liedtke's passing never met him, but felt connected to him through his work at the Met. He will be sorely missed, but has left an incredible legacy and lasting impact on those with whom he shared his love of art. 

If you are interested in exploring Liedtke's catalogue for Vermeer and the Delft School, it is available online through Met Publications here

30 January 2015

CAPTURING 'CHANGING NEW YORK': THE LIFE AND WORK OF BERENICE ABBOTT

WALK OF FAME

BY: KATIE METHOT

Two years ago I stumbled upon an exhibition of Berenice Abbott photographs at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Knowing nothing about this photographer, I wandered into the exhibition and was blown away by the work displayed. After visiting the exhibition I wanted to learn more about the life of the woman who had captured these beautiful images. What I ended up learning about Abbott was that she was a risk taker. She travelled, took chances, and followed her passions to achieve success as an artist. After growing up in Springfield, Ohio, Abbott moved to Greenwich Village in 1918 where she became involved with a group of political activists and artists. After nearly dying during the Spanish Flu pandemic, Abbott recovered from her illness and travelled to Europe.

Pike and Henry Streets, Manhattan. 1936 (Source: New York Public Library) 
In Paris, Abbott found a job as a darkroom assistant for none-other than the famed surrealist photographer, Man Ray. After realizing his assistant had real artistic talent, Man Ray encouraged Abbott to take her own photographs in his studio. This work culminated in her first solo exhibition and led to opening her own studio.

Jacob Heymann, Butcher Shop, New York City. 1938 (Source: MoMA)
After returning to New York City, Abbott rekindled her love of Manhattan and its boroughs. At this point, the work of Eugène Atget inspired her style of photography. Atget was a French photographer who had focused on capturing images of Paris before modernism changed the architectural landscape. Abbott had photographed Atget, shortly before he died. She later published posthumous books of his photographs, which he received much acclaim for. 

Penn Station, Interior, Manhattan. (Source: New York Public Library)
Similar to the documentary style of photography practiced by Atget, Abbott began wandering around New York and photographing life in the city. As signs of modernism took over, Abbott documented the changing commercial, social, and cultural facets of the city in her project "Changing New York". Her 'flâneur' style of photography continues to be compelling and offers a unique historical perspective on life in New York during the 1930s.

If you are interested in seeing some of Berenice Abbott's work, it is currently on display in the exhibition “Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign” at the Justina M. Barnicke Gallery.

“Sign, Sign Everywhere a Sign” is on display at both the Justina M. Barnicke Gallery and the University of Toronto Art Centre until March 7th

31 December 2014

MUSEOLOGY AND CULTURAL THEORY: THE SOCIAL PRODUCTION OF PRINTS

THESIS COLUMN: SPECIAL ISSUE

BY: KATIE METHOT

When I first started studying art history I began to use printed images as cultural sources for understanding other forms of art. What was often considered too insignificant for painting and sculpture were subjects covered by artists working in print. From the mundane to the lewd - prints have it all! The period I am focusing on is the early modern era, roughly between 1500 and 1750. The development of print technologies allowed artists working in this medium to create more impressions from their wooden blocks or metal plates. Consequently, more images were created and consumed by the public. In the introductory chapters of my thesis I have looked at how the cultural production of prints and public consumption of art plays a significant part in how it is perceived and valued.

Sebald Beham, Large Church Festival. Woodcut, 1535
Printmakers would often create images of cultural festivals and religious holidays that were not focused on by painters. Festivals like these were eventually banned because of ‘lewd’ behaviour that went on (Source: British Museum)
The printmaking profession was developed from the goldsmith trade. Artists like Albrecht Dürer came from families of goldsmiths and applied their training to printmaking. The link between tradeswork and printmaking shaped perceptions of the profession as a mechanical process, rather than a practice which required creativity and special skill. Consequently, many printmakers were not considered artists, but considered craftsman and more like a carpenter than a painter.

Lucas van Leyden, The Dentist. Intaglio, 1523 (Source: British Museum)

The factors involved in cultural production are important for understanding why art was created, who it was created for, and how it came to be valued and collected in museums. My presentation will look at how printed images can be used as documentary relics of culture to construct an idea of the ‘structure of feeling’ that defined a particular period. Raymond Williams defines the ‘structure of feeling’ as “the culture of a period: it is the particular living result of all the elements in the general organization. And it is in this respect that the arts of a period [...] for here it is often expressed” (Williams 1961, 64-65). The structure of feeling dies with the participants of a society, but it can live on through recorded communication. In this case, I have looked at printed images as a form of recorded communication to help capture the structure of feeling through cultural production. Developing an idea of the structure of feeling can be used to help us understand what pictures and period-specific iconography mean and how they were interpreted by their original audiences.

An example of a 'monstrous deformity' from Munster's Cosmographia, c. 1550  (Source: Twitter)

And now, a few questions from Robin and Nicole:

Robin: As horrible as it sounds, I get distracted by pretty pictures when reading academic literature with images and often spend more time looking at the work than reading the article. As such, the images you have provided grabbed my attention. Considering you have likely compiled a lot of images during your research, why have you chosen second and third images for this post? How do they relate to what you are discussing?

Katie: Yes, I also get distracted by interesting images when reading academic articles. However, in this case the images (and what they represent) is the foundation for my topic. The multitude of subjects covered by artists working in print provide an interesting source for researching cultural history beyond what can be found in 'higher' arts like painting. This is how my interest in print as a form of communication and a way of accessing a 'structure of feeling' developed. In addition to their academic value, I believe these collections provide a similarly useful purpose in museums.

Nicole: I am curious about what the ‘structure of feeling’ for this period (1500-1750) was, and what affective characteristics can be carried forth in the contemporary museum?

Katie: The structure of feeling during this period is varied and would be specific to the time and place where art is produced. For example, one of the periods I am most interested in is art created during the Reformation (c. 1517 - 1530s). While the paintings from this period would not necessarily recognize the political and religious sentiments of the Reformation movement, the printed images reveal controversial propaganda that was used to draw favour for the Reformation cause. The multiplicity of printed images in subject and number make them useful for visually contextualizing issues that would have not been important enough for paintings. Although this point is certainly debatable, I believe this makes them very useful for constructing an idea of a structure of feeling. In terms of affective characteristics, I believe that printed images can 'humanize' histories through offering a wider visual interpretation of life and culture. Their subjects often reflect the activities of a society that would not have been involved in the production and the consumption of the 'higher arts' which are more often idealized in museums.

Check back on January 2nd to read a synopsis of Nicole's presentation!

If you are interested in the topic that I am covering in my thesis and would like to explore some images in the weird and wonderful world of print, please visit our colloquium on Wednesday, January 7th (room location is still TBA - but look out for updates, there will be pizza)

5 December 2014

SIR FREDERICK BANTING: DOCTOR, NOBEL LAUREATE, AND PAINTER

WALK OF FAME

BY: KATHRYN METHOT

Sir Frederick Banting is best known for discovering the benefits of insulin for humans suffering from diabetes. His accomplishments saved the lives of a countless number of people. At the age of 32, Banting is still the youngest person to win the Nobel Prize in Medicine or Physiology. What is perhaps less known about him is his work as an amateur artist and his connection one of the best known artist collectives in Canada.

Insulin: Toronto's Gift to the World exhibition in the MaRS lobby

In 1910 Banting enrolled at Victoria College at the University of Toronto in a General Arts Program. After failing his first year, he readjusted his focus and enrolled in the Faculty of Medicine in 1913. His change of focus would eventually lead him to begin researching the possibilities of using insulin to control the rise of blood sugar in sufferers of diabetes. Banting's research and the discovery of insulin was an invaluable contribution to medicine, which has allowed sufferers from diabetes to live healthier, more comfortable lives.

A.Y. Jackson (left) and Sir Frederick Banting (right) on a sketching trip

Banting had a great love of art and painted as a hobby. He was close friends with several members of the Group of Seven. On numerous occasions he accompanied A.Y. Jackson on sketching trips to capture the Canadian wilderness. His work strongly reflects the style of the Group of Seven and Jackson’s influence. Banting’s spirit has a strong presence at the University of Toronto campus. The MaRS Building was constructed on the site of the original Toronto General Hospital (where Banting conducted his research) and has a permanent exhibition in its lobby devoted to Banting, his associates, and the discovery of insulin. The Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library has a large holding of archival material on Banting, including his travel journals from his sketching trips with Jackson. For an amateur artist, he had quite an accomplished career. He first exhibited his oil sketches in Hart House in 1925. Banting’s trips with Jackson took him to places of solitude, away from his fame and career in medicine. Banting would even sometimes go under the alias of Frederick Grant, so he could have a life in art that was separate from his career in medicine.

Banting's 'French River'

After a lifetime of working in medical research, he had planned on pursuing art full-time after his retirement. Sadly, Banting died following a plane crash in Musgrave Harbour, Newfoundland and never had the chance to realize his career as an artist. To celebrate his life and lesser known career in art, Hart House held a retrospective exhibition of his work in 1943. In addition to his lasting presence in University of Toronto medical buildings, several of his paintings are also part of the university art collection.

If you are interested in learning more about Sir Frederick Banting: visit the lobby in the MaRS Building to see their permanent exhibition on the discovery of insulin (the collection even includes Banting’s desk which was made from an oak tree that grew on the university’s property). If you find yourself in Southern Ontario, Banting House offers exhibitions which explore his many talents and contributions to Canadian history.


7 November 2014

UNCOVERING ANCIENT LIVES & IDENTITIES: NEFRET-MUT

WALK OF FAME

BY: KATIE METHOT

Although Nefret-Mut has been ‘living’ inside the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM) for many decades, she had previously been known by her nickname, ‘Justine’. However, recent research by Egyptologists at the ROM and archaeologists at the University of Western Ontario (UWO) has revealed the mummy’s real name and occupation. Andrew Nelson and his team at UWO used CT scans to analyze the mummified body to get a better idea of who ‘Justine’ could have been. This coffin was excavated in Egypt around 1905 and acquired by Sir Charles Currelly, the first curator at the ROM. At the time the coffin was acquired, no one was quite sure whether the mummified body inside belonged to a man or a woman. However, modern technology allowed the mummy’s life to be re-analyzed to get a better idea of who they were. The CT scans performed by Nelson’s team let them look at the body without removing any layers of wrapping. The scans led them to confirm that ‘Justine’ was a woman based on the shape of her pelvis. They also revealed the diversity in mummification practices as her tongue was removed, but her brain was left insid her skull. Usual mummification practices involved removing the brain, but leaving the tongue intact so the person would be able to introduce themselves in the after-life.



Discovering ‘Justine’s’ real name was the work of ROM Egyptologist, Gayle Gibson. Gibson had kindly nicknamed the mummy ‘Justine’ (meaning justified or in good favour with the gods at their time of death) because she hated the idea of people not having a name. It was her careful examination that led her to discover the name ‘Nefret-Mut’. Through analyzing the messy hieroglyphics on the coffin and looking at high-resolution images – she was able to decipher the woman’s name and discovered that she was likely a singer or chantress at the temple of Amun-Re. The name Nefret-Mut was a reference to Mut, the goddess of Thebes. According to Gibson, her name would have translated to “beautiful one of the goddess Mut”.

The messy hieroglyphics on Nefret-Mut's coffin made it difficult to decipher her name and determine whether she was a woman or a man

Unlike Nefret-Mut, many other mummies may never have any aspects of their lives known. In contrast to the extravagant burial processes of the Pharaohs, Nefret-Mut’s mummification and burial was not made elaborate or with any expectation that she would be remembered. Although some visitors may sometimes view mummified bodies as ‘objects’ in museums, both Nelson and Gibson looked to discover the person who Nefret-Mut was and to present what can be known and understood about her life. It has taken nearly 3,000 years for Nefret-Mut’s proper name to be restored, which has certainly qualified her to be regarded as a ‘Person of Note'

A facial reconstruction of Nefret-Mut near the time of her near (est. late 20s, early 30s) by forensic artist, Victoria Lywood. 

Nefret-Mut is current on display in Unwrapping Egypt at THEMUSEUM in Kitchener, Ontario.

10 October 2014

HERB & DOROTHY VOGEL: COLLECTING FOR THE LOVE OF ART

WALK OF FAME

BY: KATHRYN METHOT

Known as 'proletariat art collectors', Herb and Dorothy Vogel amassed an incredible collection of conceptual and minimalist art on a very small budget. The couple's incredible eye for emerging artists allowed them form a collection of 4,782 works, which they managed to fit inside their tiny one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan. The couple married in 1962 and began collecting art soon after. Their love of art and collecting contemporary works continued throughout their marriage, until Herb's death in 2012.

Herb and Dorothy Vogel with two of their cats

Unlike many collectors of prominent contemporary artists, the couple had only modest salaries to fund their love of artwork. Herb worked as a mail sorter for the United States Postal Service and Dorothy worked as a librarian. The couple found ways to get deals on work by emerging artists (many of whom later became their friends). Their collection includes work by notable minimalist artists such as Sol LeWitt, Richard Tuttle, and Lawrence Weiner. With the limited budget the couple had, they choose to not purchase works as an investment, but selected pieces based on what they both liked, what was small enough to take home in a taxi and to display in their apartment.

Their life and collection was captured in the 2008 documentary "Herb and Dorothy". The documentary recounts the Vogel's courtship, life together, and their art collection. In addition to being passionate art connoisseurs, they are also ADORABLE. I dare anyone to watch this documentary without getting a little teary-eyed. The couple never had children, but housed a lovely menagerie of animals which make appearances throughout the documentary (also adorable). Despite the large amount of work that is crammed inside their apartment, each piece resonates a different story. One particularly notable story is about a collage piece they received by the artist Christo in exchange for taking care of his cat.

Herb and Dorothy with their art collection, inside their Manhattan apartment

As the couple aged, it became harder to take care of their collection. In 1992, their entire collection was donated to the National Gallery of Art in Washington. Herb and Dorothy wanted to share their incredible collection and love of art with the public. As the National Gallery has free admission and does not sell donated works, their collection would stay together and could be accessible to a large audience.

"Herb and Dorothy" has been made available online through TVO.

Please watch and enjoy the wonderful story this couple has to share.

26 August 2014

THESIS REFLECTION: MAKING THE COURSES WORK FOR YOU

BY: KATIE METHOT

If I am always consistent with one thing, it is definitely procrastinating on important things that I need to finish. During my undergraduate degree I would sometimes have a ‘eureka’ moment and easily power through papers that were due the next morning. Years later, this no longer works for me since I find it impossible to stay up all-night (I have discovered the wonders of going to sleep at 10:00pm), let alone develop coherent and intelligent work at 4:00am. However, I started the MMSt program with the outlook that I would use my coursework and readings to help craft my thesis topic and proposal. This way, I would consistently be doing work that related to my intended topic and I could begin thinking critically about the subject. This was beneficial as the topic I had in mind when I began the MMSt program changed and evolved significantly by the time my proposal was finished. I found that through considering my topic and analyzing it in relation to museology and art theory in my courses, I was confident that this was the subject I wanted to spend the next year researching and writing about.

Use what you discuss and read in your courses to develop and refine your thesis topic

However, one thing I should have looked into before enrolling in courses is how they would benefit me as an aspiring thesis student. In order to write a thesis, students must complete INF1240 Research Methods in preparation for crafting a proposal and establishing research plan. While I learned a lot from the course, my assignments were different from the other sections that were offered. Other sections had assignments which were geared towards preparing the students to write proposals, while my assignments focused on analyzing practical research methods (which would benefit me once I had begun my research). In preparation for writing a research proposal (which I had never done before), I would have appreciated having a preliminary proposal that had been reviewed and given me a foundation to work from when developing my final proposal. Instead, I was stuck hounding my thesis supervisor and googling examples of other proposals to make sure that mine offered enough of a research plan and thorough explanation about my topic. Fortunately, my other thesis colleagues were much better prepared and offered me helpful examples and information! In addition, when I was running out of time to finish my proposal, I had months of relevant notes that I had taken in other courses.

Eventually, I got down to business and finished my proposal

If I were to offer advice to students considering a thesis, I would recommend using your courses to think critically about your intended topic. Museology is not a narrow subject and its multifaceted nature relates to a wide range of concepts that may help you to develop your thesis topic or decide whether a thesis topic is suitable for you. Although I continue to fight the urge to procrastinate, I am pleased to have picked a topic that I am genuinely enjoying researching and look forward to writing about.

5 August 2014

THESIS REFLECTION: MY TRIP TO THE MET'S PRINT AND DRAWING DEPARTMENT

BY: KATIE METHOT

A few weeks ago had the pleasure of travelling to New York City and meeting with two fantastic curators of prints and drawings. Their refreshing outlook on curating paper collections has given me a new perspective for the future and purpose of prints in museums. Up until now, I have looked at print and drawing study rooms as a negative space, where most works on paper are secluded from the rest of the museum. However, after my conversation with the curators at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met), my outlook has changed. Assistant curator, Freyda Spira and the Print and Drawing department at the Met are doing wonderful work with their collection. Ms. Spira has fantastic insight on the history of the Met’s collection and its future initiatives. The department believes that print and drawing study rooms provide visitors with an opportunity to have an intimate experience with a work of art. As Ms. Spira pointed out, in no other department could you request to see a piece from the collection that is in storage. The study rooms allow individuals to examine works that may not be on display for many years.

The Met’s Print and Drawing Study Room
The Met’s Print and Drawing Study Room













As I have mentioned in my previous posts, the sensitivity of works on paper prevents them from frequently being on display. However, the Met presents a constant flow of three-month exhibitions in the print and drawing gallery. The limited amount of time that paper works can be on display for was not portrayed as a negative restriction, but as an opportunity to explore many themes within the museum's collection of 1.2 million works. I thoroughly enjoyed the display of prints and drawings, which managed to examine highlights from four-hundred and fifty years of Western art history.

A display comparing Lucas Cranach’s Venus and Cupid with Picasso’s modern interpretation
Another point that Ms. Spira brought up is that collections of other media are often incomplete. In many art museums, representing a complete history of style, culture, and artistic movements can almost be impossible. However, with over a million works, the Met's collection has built a well-rounded history of art through works on paper, without the gaps that are found in the collections of other departments (such as painting or sculpture). With the comprehensive nature of the Met's collection, the early print curators wanted to install a series of 'print invasions' in most of the Met galleries. In light of my interest in using prints to contextualize art and history, I found this concept fascinating. However, the natural light which is present in many of the Met galleries prevented this concept from being implemented, out of the fear that the works on paper would deteriorate. The enthusiasm of the department made me feel that the concept of a ‘print invasion’ was not out of the question if the conservation issues could somehow be combated. While I have enjoyed interviewing many museum professionals this summer, there have been a lot of negative perspectives presented on current issues affecting paper collections. As I finish my summer research, I appreciated being uplifted by the perspectives of the Met curators who are working with one of the largest paper collections in North America and are making the most of it.

15 July 2014

ADDRESSING ISSUES OF PUBLIC ACCESS: SHARING PRINT COLLECTIONS USING SOCIAL MEDIA

THESIS REFLECTION BY: KATHRYN METHOT

Social media has allowed museum professionals to establish and participate in a community of shared knowledge. As most of my research has been theory-based, I have been looking for individuals whose museum work relates to my thesis topic. Through Twitter, I have been able to seek out and connect with several individuals working with print collections. I have hoped to understand the practical implications for dealing with paper collections through conducting interviews with these professionals. I have focused on several institutions with large print collections, with either active or inactive departments. One of my most important questions is what they feel the purpose of their department is in the museum and what their present and future objectives are. Finding out about the practical initiatives of print departments has helped to widen my perspective for my thesis and to think about the future of objects in museums and access to the public. Fortunately, I have received very positive responses from individuals I have recently contacted for interviews.

Metropolitan Museum of Art Print Gallery
The Met’s Print and Drawing Gallery: Due to issues of preservation, most works are only on display for three months (source: http://www.metmuseum.org/about-the-museum/museum-departments/curatorial-departments/drawings-and-prints)
This week I will be travelling to New York and meeting with curators from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Pierpont Morgan Library and Museum. Later this summer I am hoping to interview Benjamin Levy, the curatorial assistant in the Department of Prints, Drawings, and Photographs (PDP) at the Baltimore Museum of Art (BMA). I connected with Benjamin on Twitter after I read an article about the PDP’s Tumblr account (link: http://blog.artbma.org/2014/07/posts-for-print-lovers) which presents images of prints in the museum’s collection. Each image is paired with an interesting caption about the work. The Tumblr page has helped to combat the issue of public access to printed images. Due to light-sensitivity, paper collections can only be on display for a limited period of time. Social media initiatives such as the PDP’s Tumblr account opens up a wider collection of works to the public and looks to ignite an interest in prints (it even includes a fantastic ‘ask me about art’ section). As digitally curated exhibitions become more popular, I was intrigued by what this could bring for the future of paper collections. Although the public would not be viewing the prints in their physical form, presenting the works online allows museums to display more of their collection and to reach a wider audience. This has given me a lot to think about regarding the future of print collections and how inaccessibility can be combated, while addressing an issue of preservation and digitizing fragile works of art. I look forward to speaking with Benjamin later this summer and will bring up this issue in my interviews in New York.

Any feedback or thoughts about this topic would be greatly appreciated!

24 June 2014

THESIS REFLECTION: LOOKING BACK - CURATORS OF EARLY PRINT COLLECTIONS

BY: KATIE METHOT

Over the last few weeks I have begun to look at how early print collections were valued and used. Several curators of founding museum collections wrote prolifically about their vision and the purpose of their collection for the public they served. In the next month, I am planning on looking at the history of print and drawing collections at several large institutions, including: the Art Gallery of Ontario, the Metropolitan Museum of Art (MET), The Art Institute of Chicago, and the National Gallery in Washington. So far, my research has focused on the MET and the first curator of the print department, William Ivins Jr. Ivins was the curator from 1916 to 1946 and wrote extensively about the history, purpose, and significance of print. I have found that publications by early curators are especially important for understanding a museum's collection. Ivins in particular was a driving force for expanding the MET's print collection in order to pursue his curatorial vision. 

Prints and Visual Communication (1953)
Prints and Visual Communication (1953)

One of Ivins’s first contributions to the Met's Art Bulletin in February 1917 is intriguing as he explains what he believes is his department's purpose and significance. Ivins recognized that "the print is the only form of original pictorial art with which the greater public ever comes into intimate contact. Paintings, drawings, tapestries, and enamels are not for the poor, and neither is any of them available for more than one man's house at a time, but the print can be struck off ad nauseam". Ivins's appreciation for the multiplicity and 'unoriginality' of print (particularly in relation to a culture that belonged to the larger population who consumed these images) is reflected in the activity of his department and the exhibitions he produced. He was intrigued by printed images as a vehicle for visual communication and believed this could be used as a way to connect with museum audiences. In Prints and Visual Communication (1953), Ivins states that his experience has led him to “the belief that the principal function of the printed picture in western Europe and America has been obscured by the persistent habit of regarding prints as of interest and value only in so far as they can be regarded as works of art" (Ivins 1953, 33). In much of his work he acknowledges this issue and the subjectivity of taste that is involved in valuing one print as a work of art, while disregarding another. I believe this issue persists in the print collections of contemporary museums. My next task is to contrast the perspectives of founding curators with those of contemporary print curators to see how the vision and purpose of their departments has changed. 

3 June 2014

THESIS REFLECTION: ABRAHAM BOSSE AND THE VALUE OF PRINTED IMAGES

BY: KATIE METHOT

Over the last month, much of my research has focused on the history of printed images as collectible items and early perceptions of print as an art form. One of the challenges I have had is the lack of literature which specifically focuses on themes that are relevant to my thesis. However, a few weeks ago I stumbled across an article I had saved during my undergrad. The article was written by Carl Goldstein, a professor of art history at the University of North Carolina, Greensboro. Goldstein's article, Printmaking and Theory (2008), presents his research on Abraham Bosse, a French printmaker during the seventeenth century. Bosse championed the art of printmaking in his own etchings and through an influential treatise he wrote in 1645.

Abraham Bosse, Intaglio Printing.

Abraham Bosse, Intaglio Printing. c. 1642. British Museum. 
http://www.britishmuseum.org/explore/highlights/highlight_image.aspx?image=ps345081.jpg&retpage=21345

Goldstein has since developed his research into a book, Print Culture in Early Modern France: Abraham Bosse and the Purposes of Print (2012). Bosse defended printmaking as a form of artwork worthy of analysis, discussion, and appreciation. His writings were contrary to the dominant perception that printmaking was only a means for mechanical reproduction and not a platform for the development of original design. Bosse's work represents an early example of what I believe continues to be a relevant issue in contemporary art museums: the lack of appreciation of print as a form of art which can be valued alongside painting and sculpture. One of the most significant aspects of Bosse's argument is that production of printmaking was not thought of as romantically as painting because it was perceived as a physically demanding, dirty, and exhausting process. Bosse's etchings of printing shops acknowledge the physically demanding process, but also the close ties to painting through elements of drawing and design that were involved in developing printed images. However, what printmakers were creating and who they were creating for also makes printmaking an interesting medium, worthy of collection and display in museums.


Abraham Bosse, Intaglio Engravers, c. 1643. National Library of France http://www.culture.gouv.fr/culture/actualites/celebrations2004/img/76.jpg

The subjects that were proliferated in printed images display the development of popular themes in artwork that could be accessible to middle and lower class individuals. In his discussion of printed religious images, Goldstein writes that while many of these prints were created by unknown artists, “what mattered was that they were within the price range of people who until then had been denied the solace of religious images. Here was a new form of picture-making, directed at a new public: not high-priced altarpieces commissioned by the upper classes, but icons that almost anyone could afford” (Goldstein 2012, 13). A subject I would like to continue to read about is the development of early print collections in museums. Goldstein acknowledges that many prints were purchased by individuals who could not afford original paintings. I believe that the association with lower and middle class individuals disenfranchised some prints from being valued and collected amongst painting and sculpture (often owned by wealthier members of society).

In July will be able to report on my visit to New York City and my meeting at the Print and Drawing Department at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This will be the first of my interviews to discover how print collections are perceived and used in contemporary art museums.