Politics inextricably woven into museums' content, message
By Patricia Ho
A recent trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York reminded me of how even art can be politicized. There was a "Special Exhibition" of Leonardo da Vinci's sketches on the second floor, but I opted to pass over "Master Draftsman" in favor of saving myself from an idle 30 to 45 minute wait in line necessary to view the exhibition.
If the Met is any authority, only a cultural dimwit could have made such an egregious decision. I have cheated myself of an opportunity to anoint my eyes with sketches of "extraordinary beauty" by a "great master," "a supreme icon" and -let's pull out all the stops here - "the very embodiment of the universal Renaissance genius," according to the museum's website. Superlatives aside, how can this embodiment be "universal" if the Renaissance truly was a European phenomenon?
In stark contrast to the snaking line of da Vinci fans crowding the main entrance of the second floor, the "Asian Art" collection is practically empty. While the da Vinci display is front and center, viewing "Asian Art" requires that you wade through an array of other galleries, hallways and staircases. It turns out that the Met's collection of "Asian Art" is largely a collection of historical shards and religious statues grouped according to time period (Western works are generally grouped by school or artist). This ethnographic display seems to say that Asian art is something that existed only in the past and is novel for its antiquity rather than its relevance in contemporary, mainstream discussions of art.
It is a vast understatement to say that da Vinci is "critically acclaimed" and while I don't hope to dispute his influence, it is useful to point out that an art museum is not an apolitical, transparent space. Likewise, the works within its walls are not necessarily objects of absolute value and beauty. What is displayed is not determined by an objective judgment of aesthetic beauty; it is decided by a series of culturally dependent choices that carry political undertones and implications.
"To control a museum means precisely to control the representation of a community and some of its highest, most authoritative truths," writes social commentator and author Carol Duncan in her essay, "Museums and Citizenship." "What we see and do not see in our most prestigious art museums - and on what terms and whose authority we do or don't see it - involves the much larger questions of who constitutes the community and who shall exercise the power to define its identity."
The word "museum" comes from the Greek word "mouseion," for "shrine of the Muses." While the earliest museums indeed housed venerated objects, or what could be termed "rich peoples' expensive things," museums nowadays purport to be civic-minded. Closer to home, the modest, community-based on-campus de Saisset Museum takes art off the pedestal and puts it in a more democratic context. Rather than assuming the role of society's purveyors of good taste, a glance at the de Saisset's event calendar will tell you that the museum seeks to engage rather than dictate.
In fall 2002 the museum was home to the evocative paintings and prints of the Oakland-based Chinese artist Hung Liu. In May, the museum will feature local artist collages, a medium it describes as "completely accessible." De Saisset also regularly hosts brown bag lunch seminars, receptions and film screenings. This is not what the designers of the Louvre had in mind.
Who gets to be a citizen, freewheeling in cultural capital, and who gets disqualified? These are the discussions that museums must take part in. Although objects in an exhibition participate in a veiled manner, they are no less vital than equal rights or affirmative action debates. Works of art are created and evaluated in political contexts - the two cannot be divorced. As viewers, it is necessary for us to hold museums against the light, evaluating them for their relevance in our democratic, demographically diverse and increasingly transnational society.