While working through my copy of
A Companion to Museum Studies, in Sharon Macdonald's chapter entitled "Collecting Practices,"¹ I came across the following:
"Creating a collection required the ability to make careful selections from the profusion of objects that had become more widely available during the eighteenth century and especially into the nineteenth. Not only were there still enormous quantities of exotica and novel things to cope with, there were also new, mass-produced goods. New things became more easily available to a wider range of people than ever before, especially in the department stores that sprung up alongside museums in the expanding cities. Museums and department stores sometimes borrowed design features from one another; and both put objects on display through the tantalizing technology of the vitrine or glass case, in which things could be seen and admired but not touched, the possessive appetite thus being whetted but not immediately satisfied. The shop, though, made possession a real possibility; and the new production of "collectibles"--items designed specifically to be collected--tapped into this possibility and market. The perceived danger, however, was that people would be so dazzled by the new acquisitive possibilities that they would not know when to stop or how to select responsibly. This was articulated especially clearly in the disease of 'kleptomania,' which first came to be identified at the time. and which was a particular affliction of the middle-class ladies in department stores (Abelson 1989)." (86)
Reading this excerpt was like finding a long-lost puzzle piece in the couch cushions. After all, isn't visiting museums alarmingly similar to window shopping? At least for me, as a poor, recent college-grad, ogling Chagall in MoMA is not all that different from ogling Chanel on 5th Avenue. Part of the reason I enjoy Chagall more than Chanel, although for many reasons, boils down to two reasons that this passage indirectly raises. For starters, originality. Although I do recognize and appreciate fashion design as art (and perhaps one that people find more readily accessible, as evidenced by the
overwhelming popularity of the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met), the fact that the Chanel purse I'm coveting on 5th is simultaneously being displayed in thousands of venues across the globe, for me, detracts from its glamor. Which brings me to my second point: there's no real temptation for acquisition in a museum. As we've established, I can afford neither the purse nor the painting, so why not "possess" the latter in an intellectual, emotional manner instead?
However, things get especially tricky when that line between museum and mall is blurred. In his article "Museums and Globalization,"² Saloni Mathur addresses in part the commercialization of both museums and their exhibitions. He lists two of the Guggenhiem's exhibitions as examples:
The Art of the Motorcycle (1998) and
Giorgio Armani (2000/2001). What makes things morally sticky are their sponsors;
Motorcycle being sponsored in part by BMW, one of the featured manufactuers, and although
Armani was officially sponsored by
In Style magazine, it did follow an individual gift to the museum by Armani himself--for the reported sum of 15 million. Mathur writes:
"Increasingly, it seemed that museums were not only being sponsored by corporations, but that their practices were becoming inter-woven with a corporate model, effectively blurring the boundaries between the world of museums, the world of Hollywood, the world of fashion design, while also creating a convergence of interests between these powerful economic sectors." (700)
It's no surprise, then, that China is jumping on the proverbial band-wagon. Currently on display at the National Museum of China is the exhibition
Louis Vuitton Voyages, which marks a few milestones: the 20-year anniversary of LV in China, the museum's second major exhibition since it's reopening in March 2011, and perhaps most importantly, the museum's first partnership with a major consumer brand.³
Photo Credit: Katie Morton (Also, thanks for letting me crash on your couch in Beijing!)
And yet, in the Jing Daily's article "
Zhou Chunya: Let Luxury-Art Partnerships Increase Art Appreciation in China," contemporary artist Zhou espouses this relationship:
Over the past two years, major fashion brands have — one after another — cooperated with artists on a range of activities. Chanel created its “Mobile Art” exhibition, Hermes is planning its H-BOX show, LV has hung works by Zhou Tiehai in its stores, and Prada has projected films by Yang Fudong on the walls [of its boutiques]. Some people say that these arts activities are just a matter of luxury brands engaging in high-end marketing in the name of art. So then, as independent artists, should we refuse to serve as a high-end marketing tool for luxury brands? Personally, I feel the answer is, “not necessarily.” Art needs independent creation, but it doesn’t necessarily need “independent display.” Why can’t we use their popularity to promote art? Especially because they can attract so much media and public attention.
[....]
When luxury brands spare no effort to emphasize that “our products are also works of art,” getting help from their art initiatives, they’re actually also doing another thing — they’re exposing the general public to true works of art, letting people know what art is. Even famous arts venues like the Shanghai Art Museum that host large-scale events have trouble attracting more than 5,000 visitors a day. But how many people pass by a downtown luxury boutique and stop to take a look in the window every day?
China’s luxury consumers are increasing, and within five years China may be the world’s top luxury market. If the world’s leading luxury brands can bring art to these consumers, art will naturally reach a greater audience. And as high-end consumption gradually becomes a way of life for people, we could expect art to become a part of these people’s aesthetic consciousness as well.
Yes, this general trend has received a lot of criticism and yes, I personally think it feels a little dirty. But as MacDonald pointed out and is reiterated by Mathur, the nineteenth century witnessed the rise of not only the museum, but also the department store, the world fair, and the arcade--commercialism has, and always will be, at its roots. Although museums are oftentimes glamorized and idealized as a secularized "Cultural Cathedral," we cannot ignore its realities. A museum is no shrine; it's a building with walls, pipes, and endowments. Curators are not priests, but rather persons with goals tempered by budgets and concepts tempered by reality. With the current economic climate, this is also reflected by the shift of museum directors with Art History PhDs to directors with MBAs (one such example being the
appointment of Jeffrey Deitch to the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art in 2010).
Let's stop kidding ourselves: everything does boil down to money. Too bad in this field, I'll never be seeing any of it. In the meantime, I'll console myself with the Chagalls at the MoMA and the ancient bronzes at the National Museum.
Citations:
¹ MacDonald, Sharon "Collecting Practices" in Sharon MacDonald, ed., A Companion to Museum Studies. Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2006.
² Mathur, Saloni. "Museums and Globalization."Anthropological Quarterly 78.3 (2005): pp. 697-708.
³ Event Watch: Louis Vuitton "Voyages" Exhibition at National Museum of China: http://www.jingdaily.com/en/luxury/event-watch-louis-vuitton-voyages-exhibition-at-national-museum-of-china-beijing-may-29-august-30/
