Education and Community Programs

Walker Art Center

Part of: blogs.walkerart.org


 
by Morgan Wylie at 2:02 pm 2006-04-25
Filed under:
1 Comment

I’ll be the first to admit that my familiarity with performing arts is about on par with my understanding of quantum physics: I’m aware of it, I have a vague idea of what it’s all about, but I fall flat on my face when it comes to practical application. (Though I’m not sure how anyone could practically apply quantum physics.)

As a result, I’m also ready to admit that I went to the recent performance of Forgeries, Love and Other Matters for no other reason than that I really liked the title. (I have a habit of doing this with music, too: “Hey, what a great album title! I’ll buy it!”) To see the words ‘forgeries’ and ‘love’ in the same title was immediately intriguing, and seemed to promise something messy and complicated. I’m definitely for that.

Forgeries_2.jpg

I was intrigued by the set - this large, man-made brown hill with a series of holes and rooms underneath that the performers used to move around. It seemed to set the stage for an emotional landscape, something wide and encompassing. I also liked that composer Hahn Rowe was set up in the corner of the set, actively involved in the piece.

Things started off slow - really slow. The two characters sat at one corner, seemingly absorbed with some sort of grief. That transitioned to a lot of sliding around the hill (on their backs, heads, and butts - or whatever surface was available as they slid down), running up and down the hill, and these sort of jerky half-motions. That then moved toward full-out spastic episodes with plenty of shaking and trembling.

I was starting to lose my patience with it. I thought maybe the two people were going through the destruction of a relationship, but I was so frustrated with this kind of ‘interim’ dance. I just wanted to yell: “Would you just break up, or get back together, or something?? Just do something!”

Forgeries_1.jpg

I really loved Hahn Rowe’s musical contributions, and the dialogue - though sparingly used - was a really great addition, but the repetitive movements, and flailing around on the hill really started to wear on me as the piece continued. All I could sum it up with was: “Love is a battlefield. And this is what it looks like when you’re the victim, left bruised, bloodied, and seizing after the war.”

 
 
by Sarah Peters at 5:30 pm 2006-04-24
Filed under:
0 Comments

Or, “Sometimes Things Don’t Go as Planned.”

This is the story with Thursday’s scheduled Contemporary Art in Conversation with filmmaker Jem Cohen and musician Vic Chesnutt. I’m sad to write that Vic is unable to get to Minneapolis for the talk due to some medical problems that have him in the hospital. But, we’re flexible around here so we’ve restructured the evening as an artist talk with Jem, and an interview with Walker Film/Video Curator Dean Otto. The talk will be packed with film clips from works older projects such as Lost Book Found, Buried in Light and Benjamin Smoke, and new works like NYC Weights and Measures and Blessed are the Dreams of Men, plus maybe some of his music-oriented projects. The playlist isn’t final, but these are among the contenders.
While we’ll miss Vic’s musical contribution to the program, his stories of working collaboratively with Jem and writing music for films, the program is still not-to-be missed. In addition to everything mentioned above, Jem is planning to screen his very first film, a rarely seen 3 minute silent short of Coney Island and Dean is sure to present insightful thoughts and questions.

Lastly, for those Chesnutt fans out there, we’ll provide an opportunity at the program for you to send your get-well wishes to Vic, but you have to show up to participate!

 
 
by Robin at 11:19 am 2006-04-21
Filed under:
0 Comments

Three veteran Walker Art Center tour guides--Florence Brammer (13 years), Scott Winter (8 years), and Chris Kraft (6 years)--serve up some of their dazzling Garden gab, and six-year-old Maggie Kerwin shares a few insights gleaned on a recent personal quest to understand art and sculpture.

What are some of your best tour gimmicks and responses to them, especially from kids?

Scott Winter: I like to begin my spiel on Frank Gehry's Standing Glass Fish with a simple question: Is this fish in or out of the water? At first glance the giant fish appears to be leaping out of the shallow pool beneath it. But if you draw people's attention to the top of the palm trees and the top of the fish, an argument can be made that the palm fronds are enormous lily pads and we, along with the fish, are all still underwater.

Chris Kraft: I often show Ellsworth Kelly's Double Curve to young children and ask them what it looks like to them. Some answers have been straight out of Sesame Street! One said, "It's eleven" and another said, "One, two." Some adults say it reminds them of being at Stonehenge from the feeling they get when they walk between the two parts of it and look up.

Florence Brammer: I like to tell tour groups about the bird family that nested in Woodrow's head about three summers ago . . . a vivid, cross-species confirmation of how much the bronze horse looks like it's made of wood.

SW: Another of my favorite tricks is to recognize the efforts of our Garden staff. Whenever someone is working out there, I make the kids shout hello on a 1-2-3 count. They think it's fun, and it gives me the chance to explain some of the realities of the Garden--that the artworks need constant attention and care. Besides, it usually startles the crew, which I rather enjoy.

CK: When you tell young children the story of George Segal casting Walking Man from a live person, they will often ask, "Is he still in there?"

SW: And I'm embarrassed by the number of times I find myself absentmindedly acknowledging him as though he were a real visitor.

CK: I love giving Garden tours, especially to schoolchildren on their spring field trips. They always want to climb on Mark di Suvero's Molecule because they think it looks like a piece of playground equipment . . .

SW: I've chased more kids off that work than I care to count. My preferred tour with kids is themed on animals, as there are a considerable number represented throughout the Garden installations. Springtime "animal" tours are the most risky (goose droppings notwithstanding), because on more than one occasion the entire art tour has been upstaged by actual critters near the pond under the spoon. You quickly switch from keeping kids from climbing on sculptures to becoming Ranger Rick to stop them from disturbing nesting ducklings, baby bunnies, and other young creatures. Sometimes the natural backdrop of the Garden leaps to the foreground with little advance warning.

What's one of your most cherished Garden memories?

FB: Seeing choreographer Merce Cunningham and company grinning and waving happily to the crowds at the Garden's 10th-anniversary party in 1998. They were riding through the grounds in the back of an open truck en route to their performance space near Spoonbridge and Cherry.

CK: One year, I took a St. Paul school group to see Nari Ward's [temporary installation on the Sculpture Plaza in 2000] Rites-of-Way, a structure with bead curtains and pictures of the Rondo neighborhood on the ceiling. The teacher became very animated and asked if she could tell the children a story. She then started talking about the days before I-94 went through the Rondo area and pointed out some of the photos of places that were familiar to her. She told me later that their school was very near Rondo and she was glad the children had a chance to see the artwork that commemorated their lost neighborhood.

Which sculptures do people respond to most positively?

FB: Spoonbridge and Cherry, Woodrow, and Standing Glass Fish.

SW: Dan Graham's Two-Way Mirror Punched Steel Hedge Labyrinth is by far one of the most popular works in the Garden (as evidenced by the path worn into the lawn around the work). The kids really dig Mark Di Suvero's Arikidea because it swings a bit. And Deborah Butterfield's Woodrow always manages to capture everyone's attention.

Maggie Kerwin: It looks like the horse is made of wood. I think she used sticks to show that animals are really cool. They are part of nature. It is the same size as a horse, but not realistic. I think it would have been hard to make this sculpture. It is tall. She was probably not that tall.

CK: It's always Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen's Spoonbridge and Cherry. They are as-tounded by the size. The second favorite seems to be Gehry's fish. They love the fact that it, too, is so large and that it is leaping out of the water.

MK: Spoonbridge is very realistic. It is enormous. We need food. Especially healthy stuff. Like fruit. The fish also is enormous. It's easier to see it that way. You can see through the glass. It is pretty much what real fish look like. The scales are diamonds.
Do you have a favorite piece in the Garden?

FB: Brower Hatcher's Prophecy of the Ancients--I love how it seems to transcend time, being both primitive and futuristic at the same time.

CK: I really like Charles Ginnever's Nautilus. I have young children weave in and out of it and look up at it from underneath to see the different parts. I also like the fact that the sculptor was thinking of origami when he made it.

SW: I have two favorites: Prophecy of the Ancients, because it is strikingly beautiful and rich in its interpretive potential; and Double Curve, because the purity of its form and the monumentality of its scale leave me speechless . . . which can be awkward for a tour guide.

 
 
by Lara Roy at 4:21 pm 2006-04-17
Filed under:
0 Comments

Reading Paul’s blog posting on Holland Cotter’s recent New York Times review of the Walker oganized exhibition, House of Oracles: A Huang Yong Ping Retrospective reminded me (once again) of the Walker tour guides’ experiences during our recent trip to China. In Shanghai as we visited the Bund area (Shanghai’s main banking and finance area) we immediately noticed one of the large colonial buildings lining the street.

Huang Yong Ping's Bank of Sand, Sand of BankWe had all seen this building many times, entering and exciting the Walker during the run of the Huang Yong Ping show. However, the version we’d become so accustomed to was much smaller and made of…sand.

Bank of Sand, Sand of Bank was, as the artist described it, a detailed recreation of a bank “measuring 6 meters (19 feet and 8 1/4 inches) long, 4.3 meters (14 feet and 1 1/4 inches) wide, and 3.5 (11 feet and 5 3/4 inches) meters high, out of sand in the main hall of the entrance lobby of the museum. The model for this bank was the former British HSBC (Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation) building, constructed in 1923. This "bank of sand" was composed of four wooden molds, reinforced and fixed together with long screws. Then dry sand mixed with a small quantity of cement was poured into the molds. After that, water was sprayed on it, and it was pressed down with a wooden post to make it compact and solid. After this dried, the "bank of sand" would maintain its basic appearance, which, however, was only temporary and extremely vulnerable, and could crumble at any time.”

Hong Kong, Shanghai International BankAs we all rushed to have our photos taken in front of this particular building, fraught with memories of guiding Walker visitors through this esoteric, yet beautiful show, I was reminded of what an experience it is to be a tour guide. For many visitors to Shanghai, the building was just more more example of, admittedly beautiful, colonialist architecture. But after the experience of working with Huang’s art we had our own experience of the building, our own memories, our own understanding of what the building might represent. As Cotter wrote about Huang Yong Ping’s art in his review: It has a complicated sense of newness: you have never seen anything quite like this art before, yet it feels musty and archaic, as if excavated from tombs. And unlike his earlier work, it carries a dense, particular content of stories, myths, esoteric lore and political commentary.

 
 
by Roger Nieboer at 11:39 am 2006-04-07
Filed under:
0 Comments

I’m always amazed at what delightfully quirky tidbits of info one can accumulate at The Artist’s Bookshelf. Last night I came away with a new-found understanding of the etymology of the word “berzerk,” an intriguing introduction to the post-modern postulating of Heideggerian philosophers, and a renewed appreciation of the power and beauty of an early spring thunderstorm.

And it’s all Joe Chvala’s fault.

Joe was our guest, and featured artist, who came specifically to share his thoughts about David Mitchell’s intriguing novel CLOUD ATLAS, and to examine some of the similarities between that work, and his own dance/theatre/music creation BETWEEN THE FIRE AND ICE which he staged at the Walker in December.

The similarities centered first around structure (both works were dense, highly structured and multi-layered), then theme (both works examined our concept of civilization as a human construct and had some critical things to say about issues of power and control) and finally, both pieces worked on a larger, mythical level by focusing on primal elements of nature.

All of this heady discussion transpired as we watched, through the windows of the ninth floor conference room, a thunderstorm roll majestically across the downtown skyline.

 
 
by Lara Roy at 4:25 pm 2006-04-06
Filed under:
0 Comments

For a traveler to China, one of the most striking things about the country are the dramatic changes taking place everywhere. As you drive through the cities there are countless enormous cranes hovering overhead. As our Shanghai guide, David, said, "the crane is the national bird of China"- ha! As we moved through contemporary art galleries, one of the themes that emerged from a lot of the work that we saw were artists who seemed to be grappling with these monumental changes to the Chinese culture and environment.


At the 1918 Gallery in Shanghai, photographer Michael Wolf, in his series “Architecture of Density” takes large-scale photographs of office buildings, skyscrapers, hotels (many from Hong Kong), etc. The images are cropped so that the facades of the building completely fill the image- creating abstract grids out of steel, glass, and concrete. As we drove around the city of Shanghai, we were continually bombarded by vistas that reminded us of Wolf's photographs.
Hu Yang's Shanghai LivingAt ShangART gallery the work of Hu Yang, also a photographer, was captivating in its depiction of ordinary people struggling with the pressures of modern life. His work Shanghai Living which paired a photograph of a "successful" person in their home with an image of someone struggling to find a job, a place to live, pay for school or just survive, were extremely poignant and arresting. For example, with this image, the caption reads:

Sheng Chaozhen (Shanghainese, Retired Worker)
Fan Jiujin (Shanghainese, Retired Worker)
An estate agent spotted this land and urged us to move. We have had this stalemate for more than two years and life is very inconvenient. We are surrounded by builders’ rubbish, dust, flies and mosquitoes. We hope the government can help us to solve this soon.

Many of these people were living in older homes which were being eyed for demolition in preparation for new building projects.

 
 
by Lara Roy at 1:42 pm 2006-04-05
Filed under:
1 Comment

Walker Tour Guides & Staff in China

A group of around 15 Walker Art Center volunteer tour guides and three Education and Community Programs Department staff members recently travelled to Beijing and Shanghai for 10 days for a whirlwind foray into the traditional/contemporary art scene of China. The trip was enlightening, to say the least. Upon re-entry from such a voyage, it always seems difficult to hold on to the experience. Even after the first few minutes off the plane and back into so-called “real life”, the whole thing seems a little bit fleeting. I plan to use the blog format to reflect on the experience, and perhaps share a little bit about what we all learned/gained/experienced during our adventure.

Item 1: The past and the present converge into one. The Red Gate Gallery in Beijing is a perfect example of the merging of old and new that can be seen all over China. Located in the Dongbianmen Watchtower, a Ming Dynasty military tower, erected in 1436, the gallery showcases the work of Chinese contemporary artists and has an active artist in residency program.
Beijing, with the Forbidden City, Emperor's Summer Palace, and Hutong traditional neighborhoods is fraught with history.

Traditional Hutong Neighborhood

The contemporary art scene is growing, but even in the work the artists seem to address this duality (more on that in another post). One of the premier spaces for contemporary art is the Dashanzi Art District, a labyrinth of galleries and studios emerging out of the abandoned architecture of a 1950s Bauhaus style electronics factory.

Contrasts abound as well both between Beijing, the political capitol of China, and Shanghai, a city completely focused on business and capital, as well as within the city of Shanghai itself. Walker guides were astounded by both the number of skyscrapers not just dotting the Shanghai landscape, but completely filling it, as well as by the incredible lightshows displayed on their surfaces. These almost futuristic buildings provided a striking contrast against the colonial architecture across the Huanpu River.
Shanghai Skyline

A good deal of our trip was spent investigating the current art scene in China. Gallery owners and directors, as well as staff at the Shanghai Museum of Contemporary Art aided us in our exploration by provided unique insight into the art and artists of today's China. However, our understanding of the work we saw, as well as the artists behind it, was enhanced by the richness of the traditional culture as well.

 

Powered by WordPress