One of my favorite art bloggers, Edward Winkleman, posted on a gallery’s responsibility is to warn visitors before they enter a potentially upsetting exhibition. Like many museum and gallery people, he’s waffling on the issue: he can see that parents might appreciate knowing in advance that an exhibition includes “mature” content, but he also makes this very valid point:

The main problem with warning signs, of course, is how they frame the work before the viewer encounters it, setting up a predetermined context in which the viewer should approach it. In other words, the viewer is not permitted to make up their own mind about the work, free of the institution’s instruction.

He argues that a sign puts visitors in a position of entering the gallery with their defenses up — I agree. But - - on the other hand, I wonder if for a lot of parents, any show at a contemporary art museum would get their defenses up. Would you be more on guard with no signs, and no guidance on what to expect, or with signs at the entrance to each potentially upsetting gallery?

Recently the Walker education department invited a group of parents to visit the Richard Prince exhibition, in hopes of getting some ideas from parents about how we make decisions about what exhibitions are appropriate for our kids.

One of the things we talked about was whether a sign suggesting parents preview the exhibition before bringing their children is helpful. Most of the parents in the group strongly supported the idea - it seems only fair, and really helpful, to parents to let them know that the gallery might include some art that may not be appropriate for kids.

I have to admit I'm not sure what I think about this. I visited the contemporary art museum in Chicago over the weekend. They had a warning sign outside one exhibition, and I confess I went through the gallery looking for the naked people or violence or whatever had inspired the sign. I did see a couple of blurry breasts, but that was about it. And then I realized that was not such a great way to experience an exhibition.

On the other hand, I know plenty of people who think contemporary artists - and contemporary art venues - are out to trick or embarrass or horrify their audiences, and who would really appreciate knowing in advance in a particular exhibition might not be great for kids.

Does a warning sign help a parent feel that the museum is on their side? Or do warning signs reinforce the idea that the contemporary museum is packed full of offensive art? Where are warning signs appropriate? If we want the Walker to warn us, do we also expect to see signs in galleries of Greek and Roman vases, or of 19th century paintings? Any thoughts?

I remember doing tons of art projects at home when I was growing up. We’d roll out printing ink on the kitchen counter with a breyer to make prints, and I imagined that I’d be doing art projects all the time at home with my kids. But it hasn’t quite worked out that way. Six-year-old O does like to make things, but they’re often utilitarian: he has me help him cut doors and windows in a toaster box, but he’s not interested in decorating it. Once he can drive a truck into it, it is done.

Re-reading an old (Winter 2002/03) issue of Cabinet magazine, I found a nice article by artist Byron Kim about his struggles with doing an art project with his kids. Here’s a bit of what he wrote:

Whenever we set aside time to make something, it didn’t quite work. She tried her best and that was just the problem. Our attempts were too intentional, too full of effort. I found myself foisting my ideas on Ella, and she, in turn, kept trying to make Art.

This sounds familiar — I wonder if it resonates with other parents out there. O likes doing arts & crafts projects — and has a kid’s digital camera that he likes to use — but, yeah, when the projects seem labored, they really do seem like they’re more my idea than his.

Writing for the Guardian Unlimited Arts Blog, a rather crochety Nicholas Blincoe complains about the “infantalization” of British museums. He writes,

“I used to take pleasure visiting museums on trips around Britain, but now I am so clearly out-of-place: like Godzilla, a huge hulking man looming above the children. Our galleries and museums have been turned into playgrounds, with activity sheets and treasure trails, interactive video games and coloured signs that tell you about the exhibits in a few simple sentences, but nothing that an educated adult would not already know.”

Here’s the link to the article. What do you think? I appreciate it when museums have stuff for kids, in part because gallery activities and kid-friendly information in the galleries make visits more bearable for the whole family (and any hulking Godzillas who happen to be in the vicinity), but I agree that not everything needs to be turned into a cartoon character. And I love visiting what he calls “unmodernised museums: the museums that look like museums. I like them Victorian, cranky and encyclopedic,” (and so do my kids!) We promise not to swamp the place.

I am always interested in how artists - especially artists who are mothers - figure out how to balance art, home, and a job. My friend Kara Walker-Tome and I went to graduate school together -she was always ambitious, organized, and energetic. Now, she's raising two kids and working as an independent curator organizing temporary exhibitions in non-traditional spaces (Here's her website for ShowTel). When I heard she was planning a new project (read an article on 10 x 10) just months after the birth of her second baby, I thought I'd interview her about how she finds - or doesn't find - balance.

It sounds like your recent curatorial project went well. With finite amounts of time and energy (and lots of demands on both) how did you make that happen?

With 10 x 10, I was sensible enough to know going in that I should make it a manageable project as I have very little time to devote to my work with the demands of a nine-year-old and a one-year-old. Also my husband's current job requires a lot of his attention, so he is not very available for "kid time" nor I do have much extended family support.

So I made decisions like using a smaller group of artists, inviting only artists I have worked with in the past that I know are responsible, doing minimal press and promotion and being OK with knowing the crowd might be smaller than other shows I have done, etc. I also had to scale down certain aspects and details along the way in direct proportion to the amount of time I could eek out.

Do you feel like you can keep current & active in your profession, while balancing your curatorial projects with your home life?

With this recent project, I definitely fretted that I wasn't being as "professional" and that it would affect the show. In retrospect, I realized that no one noticed any of the little imperfections I was stressing about and overall the show turned out wonderfully. That was a good lesson for me and it renewed my confidence, which in turn helped me decide to commit to my next project.

Are your decisions about taking on projects influenced more by practical factors (like finding child care) or internal ones (like your desires to be home for your kids and to be active in your career)? Or??

This is an opportune time to ask me about "balancing" family and work life. In April I will curate the sixth installment of a show I had done annually until taking last year off after having my baby. Showtel will involve 30-40 artists doing site-specific work, a printed catalogue, sponsors and an estimated crowd of 600-800. A lot of work!

I know I will have to put out some money for daycare in order to make this show happen. I'll consider it an investment against the show. Luckily I also feel my daughter is ready for daycare and I was referred to a sitter I like and trust.

I am nervous about pulling it off but I also feel compelled to jump in and do it and I am excited about it.

All this balancing and strategizing and compromising - is it worth it?

I'd like to openly bash the concept of "balancing" motherhood and work...it's not possible! In my opinion and experience "balance" implies an evenness that just doesn't happen. One side of the scale is always heavier than the other and the sides are always switching! The really challenging part is acknowledging that you are being pulled towards one or the other ... As long as you are giving your best to each SOME of the time, that should be the goal.

I've been reading reviews of The Daring Book for Girls, which is billed as "every girl's invitation to adventure." The consensus seems to be that pop culture provides pretty grim models for young girls and that this book is all about active adventures, positive women role models, and creative craft projects for 'tweens.

I started to wonder what a “Daring Art Book for Kids” would look like. Plenty of artists are making work that is fun and adventurous, and could provide kids with positive role models. Here's my completely arbitrary stab at a list (feel free to add your favorite artists in the comments!)

Ingrid Calame A friend recently pointed out that, while Ingrid is brilliant and makes interesting work, she's really doing what we all loved doing when we were kids: tracing and coloring. But she traces things like the stains and tire tracks on the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for a 76-by-20-foot painting for an exhibition at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. (See images of her paintings here.)
David Wilson & The Museum of Jurassic Technology David Wilson runs the Museum of Jurassic Technology, a place that is both wonderful and awesome - in both the new- and old-school meanings of those words. I'm crushed when my kid announces "I'm bored" when, as the Museum demonstrates, there are all kinds of things in the world, great and small, that can inspire wonder and curiosity.
Lee Bontecou We often assume everyone wants their 15 minutes of fame, but Lee Bontecou's life offers an alternative I hope will appeal to my kids. She received critical acclaim for her work in the 1960s and 70s, then didn't show for decades, focusing instead on teaching and making work in her studio. Visiting her retrospective, I felt like I was getting a glimpse of what it means to make art and work hard because you love it.