Education and Community Programs

As an institution that relies heavily on volunteers, specifically our group of 100+ volunteer tour guides, periodically we need to think about the question: Why do people volunteer? In order to retain committed volunteers, we must think about their motivations in order to make the experience as rewarding as possible.

There has been much written about why people spend time and energy volunteering. It often comes down to the following reasons: personal gain, personal associations, or belief in an organization. With the tour program at Walker we strive to hit all three. Personal gain takes the form of ongoing education and exposure to the arts, as well as museum discounts, etc., personal associations include the friendships that guides develop and the social events we plan, and most importantly, belief in the organization comes from within the volunteers themselves and their steadfast committment to education and the arts.

That being said, when I receive letters like these after taking kids on a tour, I realize that those “academic” reasons for why people volunteer kind of fly out the window.

In an essay from 2001, poet and editor of the fantastically free online poetry and sound archive, ubuweb, Kenneth Goldsmith outlined his plan for being uncreative. His strategy for achieving this state was to hand-type the Friday, September 1, 2000 edition of the New York Times from front page to back page, including every single word and bit of punctuation. He states, “The object of the project is to be as uncreative in the process as possible.”

Toward what end, I ask?

Valuelessness, he says, and ultimately to stretch the category of appropriation that the visual arts have adopted, into literature. As a practitioner of “extreme process writing,” this strained, meticulous, activity of typing someone else’s writing for days, even months on end is nothing new to Goldsmith. He has made practice of recording extremely mundane details such as keeping track of every move his body makes in a day’s time. In defense of these projects, he quotes John Cage, “If something is boring after two minutes, try it for four. If still boring, then eight. Then sixteen. Then thirty-two. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”

Repetition and appropriation can be found all over the Walker galleries with artists like Andy Warhol, Sherry Levine, Richard Prince and of course, Marcel Duchamp. In fact, Goldsmith sites Warhol’s long, static and essentially “unwatchable” films as an inspiration for his “uncreativity.” If you were here for the screenings of Haircut (No. 1); Eat; Sleep and Kiss in January, you know what unwatchable means.

So how does it all connect? Can poetry take on appropriation in the same way that visual art has? Or maybe more importantly, should it? Goldsmith asks, “One hundred years after Duchamp, why hasn’t straight appropriation become a valid, sustained or even tested literary practice?” Find out tonight at Goldsmith’s talk here at the Walker at 7:30 pm for FREE. Come learn how to be uncreative!

As I was perusing the Walker’s weekly press clippings (conveniently compiled for us every week by our PR and Marketing folk) I came across an article written by Heidi Clausen who writes a column for The Country Today, a newspaper out of Western Wisconsin. Her column was dedicated to a recent visit to the Walker and expressed alot of doubt and frustration with what she saw during her visit. Specifically:

“One person’s junk might be another person’s masterpiece, but I can’t imagine too many people would find beauty in a hulled out aircraft filled with mummified bats…”

and this…

“In the galleries to follow we saw quite a number of canvases splashed haphazardly with paint and framed for our viewing pleasure.”

She clearly had visited during the run of House of Oracles: A Huang Yong Ping Retrospective, and exhibition which showcased the conceptual and often challenging work of a Chinese contemporary artists, (one example is Bat Project IV). However, it also appeared as though she struggled with some of what we might view our most “traditional” work, that of the Abstract Expressionists whose work is on view in a gallery dedicated to artists who worked during the 50s and 60s.

The article interested me to a great degree because we had just finished discussing this very issue with a group of tour guides in training. That is, what do you do on a tour when people just have a negative reaction to the art? I think we can do as much as possible to educate and engage, through tours, interpretive pieces, etc. Perhaps its enough that this person is thinking about the art, and was clearly affected in some way by it. But how much do we need to do, and how can we reach, those visitors who go through the galleries on their own and never voice these opinions, or seek out information, until well after the visit is over, if ever?

One of her last comments made me think that perhaps the visit hadn’t been a total failure. About the work of Bruce Nauman she wrote:

“I was fascinated and perplexed all at once with a series of three TVs playing black and white footage of a really bored looking man engaged in various activities–walking along a line drawn in making tape around a square and repeatedly falling back into a corner. It was mesmerizing, but I guess I wouldn’t call it art.”

That she was fascinated and mesmerized and was thinking about what she would or wouldn’t call art is enough for me.

“Hey, Morgan - Kiki Smith is in the art lab!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. Check it out.”

“Hmmm….suddenly I think I need to get up from my desk and visit another office, passing by the art lab on my way….”

The Kiki Smith Exhibition Preview Party is on Saturday, and I bought a cute new outfit for the occasion.

One of the primary “rules” we tell Center visitors is not to touch the art. There are occasions, however, when we forgo this edict in favor of opening up the museum’s collection to all audiences, particularly those with visual impairments. Recently two of our wonderful tour guides had the opportunity to tour participants from the Traumatic Brain Injury Day Program, part of Opportunity Partners.

Through a combination of careful description and gentle touching (with gloves), the tour participants had an opportunity to experience contemporary art in a meaningful way. These tours even have an impact on the general gallery audience, as they see what’s going on and understand the unique experience of this audience. Today’s tour was also captured by WCCO Channel 4 news. Hopefully in this way, more people with visual impairments will be able to experience museum collections. The Minneapolis Institute of Arts also offers touch tours for the visually impaired.

The experience is not only for the visitors, but can have a great impact on our volunteer educators as well. As one of the guides for today’s tour, Sunny Floum, said, “…in the realm of tour guide experiences…To be able to share my love of WAC and its art with individuals who could easily be left out is the greatest gift that I could possibly receive.”

Museums constantly strive to make their programs and collections accessible to all audiences. A really useful source for accessibility guidelines is the National Arts and Disability Center.

Link to WCCO Story on the Walker’s Touch Tours

Yesterday, Jon Langford, Sally Timms, and the Executioner’s Song crew treated the Walker Art Center Teen Arts Council (WACTAC) to an open rehearsal and Q & A session. Most of the teens had a preconceived notion of country music. Emmanuel, a WACTAC member, asked “You mean country as in pick up trucks and rednecks?” I guess the answer would be, “No, country as in old British punks living in Chicago.”

As part of our new tour guide training class, Walker’s Manager of School Programs Susan Rotilie presented one technique or strategy for engaging visitors in a discussion about works of art. The Critical Response idea, used by many, but brought to our attention by dancer/choreographer Liz Lehrman is a strategy for evoking conversation, dialogue and discussion through a series of questions and responses. The idea has also been adopted by the Minneapolis Public Schools as part of their Artful Teaching and Learning program: “A three-year project funded by the United States Department of Education, ARTFUL TEACHING AND LEARNING researches and makes known the effects of teaching in and through the arts to improve student achievement.”

With our tour guides, Susan led a discussion about Bruce Conner’s Bride using the following questions:

1.What do you notice? Imagine using all of your senses.
2. What does this image remind you of?
3. What feeling do you get from the image?
4. What does the image make you wonder about?
5. What do you think the artist wants you to take away from the image?

A fairly simple series of questions led into a pretty amazingly insightful discussion about the piece. This technique will be useful for guides, particularly when a group wants to see a work that perhaps the guide isn’t 100% prepared to talk about, but still eager to engage the visitors in a discussion. The strategy would also be a good technique to teach visitors to use when they view art/visit museums on their own.

Sometimes it is just amazing to me how the blogosphere can bring disparate worlds together. Case in point, in my free time I spend a fair amount of time perusing the many knitting blogs out there (knitblog, yarnboy, blue blog, etc.). As I was reading a post on one of my favorites, yarn harlot, I came across this photo and the comment…

“This is a life size concrete elephant. This has nothing to do with my photo shoot, but it was strange as all get out.”

Apparently the author, while in Boston, had seen this life-size concrete elephant being moved into a building. When I saw the photo, I thought “I’ve seen that elephant before!” Turns out, it is part of 11 June 2002 - The Nightmare of George V, by Huang Yong Ping, which just last month occupied a key spot in Gallery 4 as part of the exhibition House of Oracles: A Huang Yong Ping Retrospective, which is now in place at Mass MoCA. As some may have seen on these very blogs, moving a life size concrete elephant into place is no easy task.

On blogs, worlds collide- even yarn and concrete pachyderms!

Last night’s meeting of The Artist’s Bookshelf provided enough stimulating conversation to provoke a head full of spinning thoughts. Using New York Times critic Michael Kimmelman’s newest tome ”The Accidental Masterpiece” as our starting point, we ventured forth into the potentially heady waters of aesthetic theory to cover a wide and curious array of topics ranging from tattoos (some of us admitted having them, though, thankfully, all remained hidden from public view) to the mesmerizing appeal of schlock-master TV painting guru Bob Ross.

We wasted no time in getting down to the BIG questions: What is art? Does art need an audience? Is process more important than product? Is communication more important than expression? Must art have a function?

We came up with few absolutes, but many intriguing postulates, and in the end, generally agreed with Mr. Kimmelman’s wise words:

“–art provides us with clues about how to live our own lives more fully.”

Amen.

Admittedly, I got a bit weepy writing my goodbye post to tech-art rockstar Nam June Paik. ECP Associate Director, Christi, found me at my desk and started laughing when she realized what was going on.

“It’s just like that time you finished the latest Harry Potter book over lunch, and then spent the rest of the afternoon crying!” Christi walked away chuckling to herself then disappeared into an office. Moments later, while I’m putting the last touches on my tribute to Nam June Paik, a voice comes down the hallway from Public Programs Manager, Sarah: “Awwww, Morgan, that’s so sweet!”

There’s no privacy in this department. None!

Coming to the end of my undergraduate college career, I was finishing a B.A. in computer science, and I was hating it. Hating the “Boys Only” locker room atmosphere in the department, hating the prospect of spending 50% of my career justifying my presence to my peers, and hating the fact that Abby - best friend extraordinaire and only other female student in the department - and I were constantly on the defensive.

So I spent my last year at college suffering through one last Human-Computer Interaction Theory class, but devoted the rest of the year to a Studio Art minor. Getting away from the computer lab and being able to spend hours in my studio made me a much nicer person - ask my classmates. During that time I had two revelatory experiences: Feminist Art and Intermedia Art.

And here’s where the blame game begins:

This is all your fault, Nam June Paik. All of it! Things were simpler for me back in the day when visual arts meant paintings, collages, and photography. I could see where the Dada and Fluxus artists were headed, sure, but what did that have to do with me? The first time I saw an image of TV Cello in a book, I totally thought I was going to piss my pants in my excitment to show that picture to every last one of my friends and classmates. And Charlotte Moorman is so cool! She fearlessly left behind a career as a concert cellist to tackle your beast of a cello. That is so punk rock.

TV Cello, 1971

Really, it’s your fault for bringing me back from the brink of being DONE with technology. Just when I was sure that Dante had mistakenly omitted the level of Hell where people are forced to sit and write C++ code for all eternity, you come around and reassure me that there is a middle ground where art and tech can get along. Why tear my hair out and scream at the computer (because of a certain hateful professor), when I can just deconstruct it turn it into a media sculpture? Why push the digital age away when it’s much more interesting to transform it in an art installation? You took the best of artists that I respected but wasn’t really a fan of - Fluxus, John Cage - and distilled it into a form that left me in a constant state of awe.

You are directly responsible for numerous hours of my time spent filling notebooks with ideas for assemblage technology pieces. In fact, I think my paper on Ubiquitous Computing would have been that much sharper had I not been spacing out about digital and moving image art.

Piano Piece, 1993

You brought the notion of contemporary art home for me, and inspired a love of technology and the moving image that might not have evolved otherwise. I blame you, Nam June Paik. It’s all your fault.

And now you’ve gone and broken my heart. I’ll miss you.

Love,
Morgan

Nam June Paik, 1932-2006