A day at LACMA
My first trip to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) was great, as I was able to see and experience quite a wide range of art. Having opened in 1965, LACMA’s collection is vast, encompassing work from all era’s and geographical locations. According to its website, LACMA boasts that it is the largest art museum in the western United States, with a collection that includes more than 130,000 objects dating from antiquity to the contemporary.
Being a painter, I was, of course, drawn to their collection of paintings, specifically from the modern era. This was the first time that I have seen work by artists such as Picasso, Beckmann, and de Kooning—artists whom I admire—in person. There was also a couple works by Jean Debuffet which I really enjoyed. One of my favorite pieces, however, was a sculpture, entitled Disk, by Italian artist Arnaldo Pomodoro (1983). To me, the work was very internally driven, as the inner gears seemingly wanted to bust out of its encompassing skin. The highly polished bronze exterior reflected my own self back at me, while I stood in front of the sculpture contemplating its intricacies. Ultimatley, I was relating this work to my own personal interest in the human cognitive internal—ideas of which inspire my own paintings.
Disk, Arnaldo Pomodoro, 1982-83, Bronze
Turbulence, Zheng Chongbin, 2013, Ink and Acrylic on Xuan Paper
Bar, Brown, Max Beckmann, 1944, Oil on Canvas
Head of a Woman with a Hat, Pablo Picasso, 1939, Oil on Canvas
On a tangent note, I was really bothered by the framing around the 2D artwork in the museum, but also all museums in general. To me, the frames that were extremely ornamental seemed to both detract and distract from the actual work itself. Perhaps it can be argued that the context of these highly ornamental frames fit better with work that was from the 1800’s and prior, but anything past that time was really an eyesore and did not seem to complement the art. Yet, as viewers, I feel we almost have no choice but to accept that these frames are a part of the work, contributing to its meaning, as opposed to a support, or something that is not active or participatory in the viewer’s experience. This reminds me of Jeff Koons, and how he used the idea of the plexiglass box to signify his works were art. However, the frames around the works by Picasso, amongst others, operated in reverse, demanding that instead of the work be art, it became relegated to something more along the lines of decor. I guess this leads me to propose the following questions: What are the functions of frames in art?; and how does framing a work of art change— and to what extent— its context and meaning?
Still Life with Silver Candle Stick, Still Life with Cats, Max Beckmann, 1943, Oil on Canvas
Still Life, Pablo Picasso, 1927, Oil on Canvas
Head of a Bearded Man with Cigarette, Pablo Picasso, 1964, Crayon and Pastel on Paper
Portrait of Isaku Yanaihara, Alberto Giacometti, 1956, Oil on Canvas
Group of Figures, Joan Miro, 1938, Oil on Canvas
The Effacement of Memories, Jean Debuffet, 1957, Oil on Canvas
Derrida wrote an influential essay about the frames of paintings titled "The Parergon." Here's a paragraph that quotes a key paragraph from Derrida's essay copied from an art historiography of frames: “May we attach the third example to this [Kant’s] series of examples, to the
ReplyDeletequestion which they raise? The third is in fact the first - I have proceeded in
reverse ... It is the frames of paintings. The frame: parergon like the others ... The
incomprehensibility of the border, at the border, appears not only at the inner limit,
between the frame and the painting ... but also at its outer limit. Parerga have a
thickness, a surface which separates them not only, as Kant would have it, from
the body of the ergon itself, but also from the outside, from the wall on which the
painting is hung ... as well as from the entire historic, economic, and political field
of inscription in which the drive of the signature arises (an analogous problem, as we
will see later). No “theory,” no “practice,” no “theoretical practice” can be effective
here if it does not rest on the frame, the invisible limit of (between) the interiority
of meaning (protected by the entire hermeneutic, semiotic, phenomenological, and
formalist tradition) and (of) all the extrinsic empiricals....” Jacques Derrida, “The
Parergon,” trans. Craig Owens, October 9 (Summer 1979): 24