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?

She was kind enough to answer a few questions about her role in the collaborative endeavor Permanence Collection, an in-gallery play she co-wrote with Ed Bok Lee for a project with the Walker and the Playwrights’ Center. Her responses below channel some of our internal Walker meetings, where programmers sit around to discuss how visitors respond to the permanent collection, the act of looking and the meaning of creativity. Needless to say, our conversations are far less clear and poetic than Obolensky’s.

Were you familiar with the Walker’s Permanent Collection prior to this project?

Yes, I’ve been a regular Walker-goer for years.

Has working on Permanence Collection changed or shifted your thoughts about the Collection or the current installation?

Writing the piece has really changed the way I view the installation–simply because the process of creatively engaging with a work of art is different than simply viewing it. One of the questions the play asks is why is there such a difference? How can the act of viewing art be in itself creative? “Art is a conversation”--someone famous said that--and in our play I think we finally get to really talk to the art work. The process of writing the play has coalesced some more nebulous feelings I’ve had as a museum goer, walking through the Permanent Collection. For example, I’ve always been aware of the shift in feeling/emotion I get as I progress through the collection. We used that shift in feeling as a starting point.

What was the process of writing a play based on a roomful of art like? How did you work together to draft the script?

The process of writing a play that is about art, without being ABOUT art in a didactic way was challenging. I think we both knew we didn’t want the piece to feel like a skit which is the easy way to do something like this. We wanted something more layered, more mysterious, slightly ambiguous but also entertaining to watch. In many ways I think it was slightly intimidating for both of us to face the innovation and masterful work of the collection and to attempt to stand next to it.

We wrote the piece in its first draft as an exquisite corpse. I started it, then Ed wrote the next scene, and then I wrote the next one and so forth. That said, once it was in its first draft form there was a lot of hands-on collaboration between us and Hayley [Finn], getting the themes to surface, and attempting to find action in each scene. We also realized on our first rehearsal that there were far too many words. Because of the marble surfaces, acoustics are difficult and it became clear that each scene needed to be cut in half. So a fair amount of writing and editing has happened on our feet.

What artworks were particularly interesting to you and why?

I love the David Smith piece (The Royal Bird) in the mid-century room. It is as if something is being born from the abstraction and color fields. It struggles to take flight--a kind of representation even as the paintings in the room resist.

The Jasper Johns set piece in the Pop Art room is a reminder to me of how theatre is at its core spectacle and visual.

The Bruce Nauman video is compelling to me as a work of theatre.

The Gober chair is so layered and narrative…it’s meaning shifts constantly for me. It tells a story that evokes irony and paradox. It is in a room filled with ironic works of art. It itself has irony to it--but it’s not a one-liner. It reminds me of how nuanced irony can be.

In the Mythologies room, I’m particularly fond of the scale of the scale of the artwork. I love how big and challenging the pieces are, and yet how delicate they are up close. The Mehretu painting has such a fine line in it and yet it maps something enormous.

Tell us how you came up with the title for the play.

One of the ideas in the piece is about permanence. In the first scene Harry says, “It’s not fair they (the art work) gets to stay put and we grow old.” It strikes me that this idea of the artwork as permanent is true it doesn’t change in its being, although it’s interpretation can be in constant flux. The viewers of the artwork age and move and change, and the theatre they unwittingly create in the galleries is entirely impermanent.

Permanence Collection is performed again on Thursday, May 15 at 7 and 8 pm in the Walker galleries.

Rain or shine start practicing your putting. Zoran Mojsilov is installing Pig’s Eye Landfill on the course of Walker on the Green. The large wooden assemblage was trucked in this morning with the assistance of an imposing crane. It’s mostly made of elm branches and trunks that were salvaged from a wood recycling site in town. Zoran says, “The mouse hole lines up with the cup just right. Now onto finishing the green.”

For more information on Walker on the Green: Artist-Designed Mini Golf visit http://blogs.walkerart.org/ecp/2008/05/13/artists-green-makers-mini-golf/

Andrew MacGuffie; Brett Smith and Erin Smith: Chris Pennington, Eric Velde, and Nate Carney Kulenkamp; Ed hernandez and Yves Roux (BBDO Minneapolis); Geoffrey Warner and Blake Loya (Alchemy Architects); Jason Brown, Elizabeth Scofield, Frederic Scofield, and Sean Frank (Survival Design); Maura Rockcastle and Regan Golden-McNerney; Kevin Kane and students (City of Lakes Waldorf Law School); Zoran Mojsilov; Tyson McElvain and Dan Winton (Julie Snow Architects); James Dayton; Phil Docken and Kirk McCall (Walker Art Center).

The course opens May 24 on the greenspace adjacent to the Walker’s Vineland Place entrance. Course hours are 10 am to 8 pm every Wednesday through Sunday, through September 7.

Hello from St. Paul! This day is significant because it’s the second and last day of curating, and also the same for how many times I’ve been in St. Paul.

We’ve been putting the St. Paul show together by working with each piece like, well, let’s just say they don’t call ‘em ‘pieces’ for nuthin. We’ve looked at all the pieces in a giant group and picked out ones that seemed to work together. If an artist had multiple works, we considered it in its entirety. Then from there, we put it on the wall, and have been practicing a whole ‘mix ‘n match’ and trial and error process. Luckily we don’t make mistakes.

(Here’s a picture of Witt spouting off some philosophy)

Witt (WACTAC superfan) is workin like a dog over here, he paces back and forth all the time. With how long the spaces are in this warehouse, each trip takes alost 20 minutes. He hasn’t eaten anything all day except doritos for lunch and toast for breakfast. But I think he’s milkin it a little bit because he said he ate just ‘a piece of toast’, leaving much to the imagination as to the scantness of his meal. Nonetheless, I saw him sporting the tired-man’s beard a couple days ago and I think he needs to just kick back and let the WACTAC’rs do some work for a change.

While David puts his life on the line to hang up all the art, I get the real cush job of documenting our progress and eating snacks to sustain myself. David is the real strong-silent type, but we like having him around.

Putting all this together has been a trying process, both emotionally and physically. At one point I thought my body wouldn’t take another kit-kat after eating so many during the initial curating phase, but I endured.

Before we got to this point, we spent countless hours down in the WACTAC bat-cave looking at what seemed like, and probably was, thousands of artworks. It was like No Exit down there. Sartre said ‘Hell is other people’ and the temperature became infernal with all the bodies in the room. One benefit, however, was how much muscle mass I gained from raising my arm for multiple votes and re-votes.

Overall, this has been a great experience. It’s been a long and elaborate process, but that makes the fruit of our labor that much sweeter. We hope this contest and show will be successful in continuing our objective to reach other teens (and tweens) out there who want to get involved with the art world.

If you have a chance, check out the series of 20 Under 20 events happening in the coming weeks.