Archaeology of Wonder Closing Reception

The response to a question asked of artists at the closing reception for the Archaeology of Wonder exhibit at Real Art Ways this afternoon essentially encapsulated my annoyance with the art world. I am an outsider. I am not an “artist,” or at least, would likely not be recognized as an artist by those who have works on display, even though I dabble. I have not gone to art school. That would have been a luxury, and having paid for my own college, I was not able to afford that path. Why the bitterness? Some of the artists with works in the exhibit participated in the closing reception, and toward the end, were asked how they felt about “wall text” or the artists’ statements that are placed beside work. While some were ambivalent or pro-text, one artist, who is actually a professor, expressed that text should not be necessary. The art should be enough. She then went on to say that for viewers who are not artists, perhaps they might find it useful. This is what got to me–this idea that most viewers would be artists or art students; maybe I was being too sensitive, but she sounded a bit disdainful that anyone should be afforded an explanation of her work.


I am also a professor, have a couple degrees, and basically do well at deciphering and decoding. I don’t have all the answers, but I try and do not give up easily. To be honest, without having text next to her work, I had no idea that it was exploring the subject matter that she said it was–memory as it relates to Alzheimer’s disease. Considering that I cared for two grandparents who had this disease, I should have known what she was depicting, right? Today was not my first time checking out the exhibition. I live nearby and have walked through it at least a half dozen times.

In contrast, one of the artists who works in the medium of experimental video indicated that text can be part of the work. Imagine that? For christmas, I received Wall and Piece, a book showcasing the graffiti done by Banksy. Some of his work incorporates text; some does not. I like this openness, this willingness to provide context when necessary. That explanation is needed from time-to-time should not mean that the audience is unschooled or artistically void.

The reception made me think. Art, like parts of Academia, is not a cohesive entity. There are individuals who want their careers, their worlds, to be open and fluid. There are others who seem to think of it as a clubhouse requiring secret handshakes.

The reception began with a performance response by Benjamin Mansavage Klein to the artwork. Though the music was not appealing to me, the idea of it was. The composer took elements from the art in the exhibit, and tried to have a musical piece–partly improvisational–respond or reflect what was in the gallery space. They used vocals, a tuba, and a flute-keyboard-recorded-accordion-sounding instrument (I think it’s called a melodian). After their performance, they passed around the sheet music which was three-dimensional. How so? If you have ever looked at a children’s book that has flaps to open, you know what this would basically look like. The top layer was regular notes, and then if you peeled back the flaps, you could see words written beneath in various colors. These were intended for the improv sections.

Of the artists with works in the exhibit, those participating in the reception talk were Valerie Garlick, Tom Bogaert, Julia Oldham, Brian P. Lund, and Harriet Caldwell. Kristina Newman-Scott curated the exhibit, and Jacques Lamarre of TheatreWorks moderated the discussion. I found the discussion to be helpful to understanding their works better. Julia Oldham’s enthusiasm about the insect world–her subject matter–was contagious. I do not think much about walking sticks or other invertebrates, but her curiosity was admirable. I think that artists should have this kind of energy about the work that they do. Also not entirely jaded by the art world was Valerie Garlick, who had a video (“Under My Skin”) in the exhibit. Her use of color and willingness to embrace the label of “strange” was refreshing, as it was less about rebellion and more about taking artistic and personal risks. Brian Lund conveyed his own excitement over his process pieces being viewed, when normally it’s only his finally drawings that do. Tom Bogaert’s explanation of his choice of medium (licorice mice) added to my understanding of his piece and how it connected to genocide– something that I would not have gotten from simply looking at the piece or reading an artist’s statement. From an outsider’s perspective, I like when artists want for me to both grapple with their work and understand it better. Sorry, I can’t believe in “art for art’s sake” or art as nothing beyond aesthetics.

The next major exhibit at Real Art Ways will be “A Thought at the Edge of the Continent: Manchuria to Siberia 1942 – 1947” by Hirokazu Fukawa.