Archive for February, 2010

The Day the Music Died

Posted by Gary Vikan on Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

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Which was 51 years ago, today.

Parsing Don McLean’s 8:34 minutes of melodious eulogy can be interesting.

I get the “thorny crown” – as Elvis, as martyr (really, Jesus), passed on to Bob Dylan (which, of course,  never happened).

But does it make sense for Elvis the be the King looking down, and dispensing a “thorny crown” in 1971, the date when Don McLean wrote the song?

The “sacred store” = the record store, dispensing that sacred stuff, as does a church.

And so the “church bells all were broken” part is again, the (now lost) singers and their songs as having a religious parallel.

In both cases, and with the crown as well, Rock ‘n Roll doing the work of religion.

The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are the three pop martyrs in the photo, above: Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper. 

But what’s this part about getting the “last train to the coast”?

Science Wednesday: Museum Labels – good for what?

Posted by Gary Vikan on Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

Photo: GV

Photo: GV

Each Wednesday, thoughts on art and science….

We in art museums spend a lot of time researching and writing labels, but sometimes I wonder what value they add to the museum experience – which, for me, is an aesthetic experience first and a learning experience second. 

Artists, after all, whether their works are in the caves at Lascaux or the galleries of the Walters, are no more “teachers” than their viewers are “students” or their setting a “classroom.”

Anish Kapoor’s gigantic stainless steel elliptical sculpture “Cloud Gate” in Millennium Park in Chicago hardly needs a label. You simply experience it! 

In his book Inner Vision: An Exploration of Art and the Brain, neuroscientist Semir Zeki invokes Cezanne’s dismissive dictum that “all talk about art is almost useless,” and observes that language was a relatively late arrival in our evolutionary history. 

Four years ago Walters curator Eik Kahng did an innovative (and controversial) exhibition without labels called Courbet and the Modern Landscape. The art experience was instead accompanied by contemporary music composed in response to the works, and by subtle fluctuations in the light levels in the galleries, to evoke the passing of clouds in the paintings. 

We discovered through research that our visitors not only said that they had a more immersing art experience than usual, but also that they spent significantly more time with each work of art than is typical for museum goers.  

Is there a disconnect between those mental processes that are called upon to create a verbally discursive art historical experience of a work of art - e.g., learning to put a “new” Courbet landscape into an art-historical sequence - and those that are useful in maximizing an immersing aesthetic experience of that same work?

I think Cezanne would have said so.

There’s a prize, for…

Posted by Gary Vikan on Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010

Photo: GV

Photo: GV

Whoever can tell me, convincingly, what’s coming out of the King’s right index finger in this picture.  And, what outfit he’s wearing.

The painting is by Tim (Dingle) and is dated 1986; it’s on Beale Street in Memphis, in the window of a store called “Strange Cargo.” Like in the movie.

Tim now lives in Austin, Texas I believe, but I have not succeeded in getting in touch.

So, the prize will not be great, but you will have a sense of self satisfaction.  Maybe.

And no, I’m pretty sure it’s not butterscotch.

What’s a “VELVIS”????

Posted by Gary Vikan on Monday, February 1st, 2010

Photo: GV ("Velvis")

Photo: GV ("Velvis")

On January 23rd of this month, after four years of much notoriety and some ridicule, “Velveteria,” the one and only “velvet painting museum,” in Portland, Oregon, closed its doors. Its 300 plus paintings on velvet were a monument to a peculiar medium that seemed to have reached its apogee in Tijuana in the 1970s.

Elvis pictures have been so prevalent in this medium that they have their own term of identification: an Elvis on velvet is a “Velvis.” Why the association?  Is it simply because velvet painting is ipso facto a genre of high kitsch art and for many, Elvis Presley is the essence of kitsch?

This may explain some of the association, but probably not all of it. Think of what dominates the iconography of velvet painting, besides Elvis, naked women, and unicorns. This is an art form for charismatic martyrs, including Jesus, JFK, MLK, Michael Jackson, and Che Guevara, and for various incarnations of sad, big-eyed waifs, sad big-eyed clowns, and sad big-eyed puppies. And everywhere possible in velvet art there are tears.

The decent from canvas to velvet is the decent from pathos to bathos.

With their dark, dramatic backgrounds, and sketchy, ambiguous details, paintings on velvet are powerful agents for opening the emotional floodgates of susceptible viewers. As neuroscientists have recently discovered, our visual brain will “complete” the compositional and emotional ambiguity of works of art to suit our own sensibilities. This is part of the work and the joy of viewing art.

The sweating/weeping Elvis on velvet will be empowered by our mental workings both to capture and to evoke a profound sense of compassion and pity.

Photo: GV

Photo: GV (Elvis Icon)

As an Elvis icon (above) is created to enable viewers make conversational contact with the King, a Velvis is created to enable viewers to tap into their most profound emotions about the King.

That’s why they looks so different.