Meschac Gaba takes much inspiration from the streets of Cotonou, Benin,
the city where he was born. The artist, full of clarity and humor about the
nature of his work, understands the power of art in social environments.
After finding millions (Gaba’s estimate) of cut banknotes on the street,
the artist started incorporating money into his work. This was the early 1990s,
when Benin first devalued currency, and Gaba was fascinated.
In Artist with African Inspiration: Salle de Francophonie (2004),
Gaba prints new images on a West African 1000 CFA franc. On the back of the
original bill, a chalkboard appears on the lower right side with the letters
“abc” in cursive. However, Gaba replaces the letters and uses the chalkboard to
frame his own face—smiling. On the left side of the bill appears an image of
one of the artist’s braided hair sculptures as well. It’s a small revision, and
it’s cheeky.
Gaba employs the same intervention with an American dollar bill in Artist
with American Inspiration: 4 World Financial Center, swapping out our
stately eagle for his face (again, smiling). One of Gaba’s sculptures appears
on the left as well. These could be read as ironic: an act of empowerment or a
moment of tongue-in-cheek capitalist self-promotion.
However you might interpret his actions, Gaba
uses everyday objects to continually play with questions of global trade and
economy, and call attention to the modern conditions that drive us to
constantly earn, measure, and compete against one another. Through his artistic
practice, he questions who can be an artist, and how artists can create space.
– Jenae Williams, Exhibitions and Publications Associate
Your next chance to experience the Olympic Sculpture Park through the Indigenous lens of SAM’s winter resident is tonight, February 27 from 7 to 9 pm! Architectural designer and artist Kimberly Deriana (Mandan/Hidatsa) has spent the last two months working in the park researching, offering workshops, and constructing a temporary installation. Deriana has used her residency as a space for sharing Indigenous knowledge surrounding the many uses of cattail materials. The temporary cattail and cedar structure she has created is a space where everyone is invited to gather and experience cultural celebration. The event will include performances by Aiyanna Jade Stitt and Hailey Tayathy, and storytelling and song by Kayla Guyett and Paige Pettibon.
Kimberly Deriana specializes in sustainable, environmental Indigenous architecture, housing, and planning. Deriana’s methodologies focus on incorporating Indigenous lifestyle practices in relation to past, present, and future, designing for the 7 generations. We sat down with her to learn a little more about her experience as SAM’s artist in residence and to learn more about her creative process.
SAM: What goals do you have for your residency at the Olympic Sculpture Park?
KIMBERLY DERIANA: I want to activate the park through an Indigenous lens. As an architect designer and somebody who loves urban design, I’ve been drawn to this park since I first moved here. Part of creating visibility is bringing other people along in the process and giving them opportunities, too. I really try to include people and families who have been doing this work for years while giving new urban Native people outlets in every project on which I work.
This residency is a learning opportunity for me; the way I enjoy learning is to involve others. It’s about the way we learn as a community, the way we make as a community, and the way we approach being in the world and sustainability. When you’re gathering cattails, there’s an appropriate time to gather and there are appropriate places to gather. Learning all of that protocol has been really eye-opening. Because I grew up as an urban Native and wasn’t always shown those protocols, I try to make a conscious effort to create space and time for the protocol knowledge as an adult.
Tell us about the workshops and youth that you
worked with to include Indigenous communities.
I’ve always done art and design but being in
the art scene is a new space for me; I wanted to explore the co-creation
process. Sharing resources is an important component of the process, I believe.
This space has a very educational, institutional vibe and it lends itself to
the scope needed for community workshops. The scale of the work required to
enliven the space needs many hands. The piece itself is practice and healing work.
The collaborators and I were here most
weekends in January and February. Since we are on Suquamish and Duwamish
traditional lands, one weekend we had Indigenous teachers from Suquamish. These
amazing women who are educators for and from their community—Tina, Jackson, and
Kippy Joe— and the amount of information and knowledge that they share in four hours is just indescribable. You
can’t get that on YouTube or from a professor. You have to experience their
oral teachings to begin to understand the richness and depth of the knowledge.
We had three Indigenous youth that day, and then we had a couple visitors just stop by who were interested in what we were doing. We had time to teach them and they got to learn. Every weekend I’ve had at least one Indigenous teen come in and help work with us through a partnership with yəhaw̓.
What are some of the historical uses of cattail mats?
In this region, mats were traditionally used as sheathing for summer structures. Mats are used all over the world, globally and indigenously for different surfaces. In the Plateau, Plains, Woodlands, and Southeast regions, mats are used for protection and warmth on their architectural structures.
Cattails have a multitude of uses. They protect us. When they’re just in the ground they clean the water and remove toxins. They can be food; they can be shelter; they can be water. When gathering cattails in the right spots, their uses extend beyond those listed so that one can understand the sustainability that the plant provides. Plant knowledge leads to understanding sustainability; sustainability leads to healing; healing leads to understanding their sacredness. I want everyone to know this.
I’m trying to make paper with cattails because
I think that’s a more respectful use of them since they were gathered in the
late fall season. I am super excited to do more scientific research on the
sustainability of cattails, learning more traditional knowledge about them, and
weaving. I realize you can approach a project and commit to working with a
material, but then all these other sacred teachings come up, such as how to work with other materials and plants.
It’s not homogenous when we’re learning about our plant relatives.
Why have some of the cattails been cut and
others left long and uneven?
As I started the process of creating this temporary installation with cattails some teachers said it was okay to gather now. When we made some mats, I knew they were not ideal materials and then, in the middle of the month, I learned that you should gather cattails at the end of summer for making mats. For this reason, some of the mats are trimmed and others are raggedy, in order to reveal the imperfection of the process. I like to break things apart until they become abstract, so that even though I’m using really traditional materials, the way I use them means you can’t necessarily tell what it is. For example, maybe your eye reads it as hair or as a bone or antlers. The raggedy mats—having them be more than one thing–helped convey that abstract concept. I think that process was kind of successful.
My architectural background makes me interested in exploring this building and wall system and I started to research and dissect like I normally do for a project. In architecture, you’re always researching and then drawing your theory. In art, you’re fabricating your theory. That’s when all this new information appeared to me. When you start to source your material and put it together, like, “This is why you have to harvest at a certain time and why you have to know where to gather and to get the reeds that are a certain height.” There are just all these little steps that make the process more efficient and that our ancestors knew and had good engineering minds for. I’m still doing it by trial and error and trying to find mentors.
The description of the temporary installation
mentions that the structure is a portal for healing. How is this present in the
work that is in the PACCAR Pavilion?
The sculpture forms a circular arbor and basket-like space. It incorporates some of the knowledge of the medicine wheel into the directions of the space and the layout. The teachings of the medicine wheel helps to orient our bodies with the land, plants and animals, nature and natural forces. In Plains tribes, you enter from the East like the sunrise. Here, in the West, a lot of structures face the water. All of the weavings that we made with Tina and Kippy are on that side and create filtered views to the water as much as possible since the water is so special. The North can reference the future, moving on, and death in some ways, too. The northern, open view gives people the opportunity to see that beautiful view of the park. The cattail threshold symbolizes a doorway into the future. A sustainable future holds the promise of healing.
– Chelsea Werner-Jatzke, SAM’s Content Strategist & Social Media Manager
Virginia “Jinny” Wright, a pillar of the SAM family, passed away last week at the age of 91. The Seattle Times obituary of the collector and philanthropist noted that she “lived for art—and dedicated herself to sharing it with others.” KUOW and ARTnews also shared remembrances of her legacy. She will be greatly missed.
KEXP’s Hans Anderson interviewed SAM curators Foong Ping and Xiaojin Wu about the reimagined Seattle Asian Art Museum for their Sound & Vision show; head to their archive for Saturday, February 15 for the story, which started at 7:49 am.
“So the piece, like
Parker’s music, is full of extremes, pushing the voice’s boundaries,” [tenor
Joshua] Stewart says. “When you have a piece this difficult, you have to bring
to it everything you have to offer. You have to go on the full journey.”
Inter/National News
OK, this is definitely
a thing: Museum Walk gives you back
pain. Hyperallergic has tips to alleviate it from posture expert
Mark Josefsberg.
“This is coming at
a time when museums and other cultural institutions are really trying to make a
case for their existence,” says the OMCA’s associate director of evaluation and
visitor insight, Johanna Jones, who led the project. “We know we make a
difference in people’s lives, now we need to really demonstrate it through
measurable metrics.”
Despite
becoming interested in art relatively late in life, Titus Kaphar quickly built
an impressive career by blurring the line between art and activism. Through his
use of paint, tar, sculpting, and a wide range of other techniques, Kaphar uses
his work to recontextualize and reimagine the way we look at history. This
includes literal instances of altering history by crumpling, shredding, and
reforming well-known images.
With his 2008 painting Uncle Thomas, Kaphar uses his gift for portraiture to shift an age-old archetype. The term “Uncle Tom,” named after the lead character in Harriet Beecher Stowe’s 1852 novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin, has long been used to promote a picture of blackness that centers on obedience and servitude. In this work from SAM’s collection, Kaphar takes inspiration from his real-life uncle Thomas to display his updated perception of the name. By placing his uncle—a well-respected, land-owning black man—at the center of Uncle Thomas, Kaphar exchanges an image of servitude and oppression for one of strength, dignity, and authority. During Black History Month especially, Kaphar’s art represents an important example of empowerment and support within one’s own community.
This work is less experimental than other pieces Kaphar has created in more recent years, but its bold confrontation of history is representative of the artist’s larger body of work. Kaphar’s willingness to challenge complicated historical narratives directly through images has driven him to work with Time magazine and receive several accolades, including a MacArthur Fellowship in 2018. Through his unique approach, Kaphar is altering the way many view our nation’s past while shining a light on the unheard voices and forgotten faces of history.
With a heavy heart, we share the news of the passing of Virginia Wright, a pillar of the SAM family. Virginia and her late husband Bagley played pivotal roles in the development, vibrancy, and accomplishments of the Seattle Art Museum for more than half a century. Beyond being generous contributors, the Wrights’ greatest impact on SAM is seen in the art of the collection and in the art shown. Virginia was among a very small group of people who, in the 1960s, pushed SAM to create its first modern and contemporary art program. Virginia and Bagley also contributed to the purchase of many important acquisitions over the years. Above all else, the Wrights amassed one of the most important collections of modern and contemporary art in the world (over 200 works), all purchased with SAM in mind as the collection’s eventual home. When the bulk of it came to SAM in 2014, forming the backbone of its modern and contemporary collection, SAM was transformed from a great institution into a truly remarkable one.
Earlier this month,
Virginia said, “When I think about the future of the Wright Collection at SAM, I
put my trust in the artists. I trust that future generations will value their
work, that SAM will continue to provide meaningful access to it, and that the
conversations that their work has inspired will continue.” We are honored by
her faith in Seattle’s museum and, because of her support over the last 60
years, we are confident that we can live up to the legacy she established.
Born in Seattle and raised
in British Columbia, Virginia went East for college and majored in art history.
Out of college, she worked for Sidney Janis Gallery in Manhattan and began
collecting art. Mark Rothko’s abstract painting Number 10 (1952) was one
of her early, daring purchases and it is now part of SAM’s collection.
Virginia has been a SAM
member since 1951. She began docent training in 1957 and led her first public
tour in 1959. In 1959, the Wrights made their first-ever gift to SAM’s
collection: Room with White Table (1953) by William Ward Corley. That
year they also provided funding for SAM to acquire Winter’s Leaves of the
Winter of 1944 (at the time titled Leaves Before Autumn Wind) by
Morris Graves.
In 1964, she and a group of friends persuaded then-director Richard Fuller to let her start the Contemporary Art Council (CAC), a group of collectors at the museum. For the next decade, it functioned as the museum’s first modern art department. The CAC sponsored lectures and supported the first exhibitions of Op art and conceptual art in Seattle. It also brought the popular Andy Warhol Portraits exhibition to Seattle in 1976, among many other important exhibitions. Her role in bringing great art to the Seattle Art Museum also involved the curation of two solo exhibitions for Morris Louis (in 1967) and William Ivey (in 1975).
Virginia joined SAM’s board in 1960, making 2020 her 60th anniversary with the Seattle Art Museum. She temporarily stepped away in 1972 when her husband Bagley joined the Board and rejoined in 1982. She served as President of the Board from 1987–90. Virginia was President of SAM’s Board of Trustees from 1986–1992, years that coincided with the construction and opening of the downtown Robert Venturi building in 1991—the museum’s first major transformation since its opening in 1933 and a major shift in Seattle’s cultural life to downtown First Avenue (with the Symphony soon following).
In 1999, SAM mounted an
exhibition of the Wright Collection (The Virginia and Bagley Wright
Collection of Modern Art, March 4–May 9, 1999). The Wrights’ entire art
collection—the largest single collection of modern and contemporary art in the
region—has been gradually donated (and the balance of the collection promised)
to the Seattle Art Museum. A significant portion of the collection came to the
museum in 2014 when the Wrights’ private exhibition space closed.
When the Seattle Art Museum opened the Olympic Sculpture Park in 2007, many works from the Wrights’ collection were installed there, including Mark di Suvero’s Bunyon’s Chess (1965) and Schubert Sonata (1992), as well as works by Ellsworth Kelly, Tony Smith, Anthony Caro, and Roxy Paine.
SAM’s ongoing exhibition Big Picture: Art After 1945draws from the Wrights’ transformative gift of over 100 works and is a reminder of their incredible generosity.
Virginia was an active board member up to the end of her life, regularly attending meetings and advising the museum in many important endeavors. About SAM Virginia said, “It’s always been the main arena. I never wanted to break off and start a museum. I wanted to push the museum we already had into being more responsive to contemporary art.” And SAM would like to acknowledge that she did just that, leaving an undeniable mark on the cultural landscape of the entire Pacific Northwest.
As Amada Cruz, SAM’s
Illsley Ball Nordstrom Director and CEO, says, “Even having only been in
Seattle for a short time, it’s clear that Virginia Wright’s impact on the city
and on SAM is beyond measure. Her legacy, and that of her late husband Bagley,
is seen in both the very walls and on the walls of the downtown museum, and it
fills the Olympic Sculpture Park’s landscapes. I’m honored to have been able to
know her and of her hopes for SAM’s continued future.”
“[The curators]
orchestrated moments of kismet, discovery, and wonder, with space for visitors’
personal revelations as they interacted with the reinstallation.”
“And given Seattle’s complicated history of changing attitudes
toward immigrants and visitors from the rest of the Pacific Rim, Foong [Ping,
curator of Asian art] notes, ‘It’s very meaningful to have an Asian art museum
in this city.’”
This week’s edition of Real Change features the Asian Art Museum, with this story
from Kelly Knickerbocker.
“With the renovated
building came an opportunity to start completely from scratch,” Foong said.
“People kept asking, ‘Did you just go on holiday when the museum closed?’ It’s
quite the opposite.”
The Stranger’s Jasmyne Keimig often takes a look at what’s “Currently
Hanging”; here
she is on Faig Ahmed’s Oiling, which is now on view in Be/longing:
Contemporary Asian Art.
Katie Kurtz interviews
artist Dan Webb about his
massive foray into stonework; his granite hands will soon grace
Sound Transit’s Redmond Technology Station. Very cool visuals by Matt M.
McKnight, too!
“They are my hands
for a reason. Moving your boulder is a very personal subject and everybody’s
got a boulder to move. It’s very literal,” Webb says.
Inter/National News
A look back for the
#BongHive: Here’s Gary Indiana for Artforum in 2007, reflecting on the
“Gogol in Seoul” sensibilities of director Bong Joon-ho.
The New York Times’
Elizabeth A. Harris reports on repercussions from the coronavirus hitting
the art world.
Artnet’s Katie White from
the frontlines of “bro-ramics”; apparently, Hollywood dudes are
really into making ceramics? Of course, it’s a medium that has been dominated
by women for centuries.
“The popularity may
wax and wane, but I don’t think we’ll return to anything like the material biases
that existed in the late 20th century…and Seth Rogen will turn to underwater
basket-weaving, eventually.”
In honor of Black History Month, Object of the Week will highlight works by celebrated Black artists in SAM’s collection throughout the month of February.
Kara Walker’s particular mode of engaging with our attention spans—her visual and conceptual provocations—have often caused furor, first from the generation above her, now not infrequently from the generation below. For when it comes to the ruins of history, Walker neither simply represents nor reclaims. Instead she eroticizes, aestheticizes, fetishizes, and dramatizes.
– Zadie Smith, What Do We Want History to Do to Us?, The New York Review of Books, February 2020
With a prolific and controversial career spanning decades, Kara Walker is perhaps best known for her use of cut-paper installations that give visual form to the histories of racism, violence, and subjugation in the antebellum South. Walker’s unsettling images mine eighteenth- and nineteenth-century stereotypes and ideologies and consider the legacies of slavery today.
This lithographic print in SAM’s collection, I’ll Be a Monkey’s Uncle, is a relatively modest work compared to larger installations and sculptures since realized by Walker. However, the print is an early work, dating to 1995-96—one year after receiving her MFA from the Rhode Island School of Design, and two years before receiving the MacArthur “Genius” award at just 27 years old. Walker has since gone on to produce major sculptural works, such as Fons Americanus(2019-20) in the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall, and A Subtlety, or the Marvelous Sugar Baby(2014) sited in Brooklyn’s Domino Sugar Factory.
In this
graphic work, a woman holds a dripping rope or do-rag[1] before a
monkey—a recurring figure in Walker’s work and, together with the title, often
read as an allusion to the scientific racism used to justify the enslavement of
African women, men, and children. Regarding her use of the silhouette figure,
Walker explains:
The silhouette technique announced itself to me as I was researching the cultural identity of early America. In many ways as a form it succeeded in being both a minimal reduction and a means to cover a lot of territory. With the technique one is talking both about the shadow as a form by making a paper cut, but also shadow as the subconscious in psychology. I surprised myself, actually, when I began working [by] how well it…seemed to exemplify the experience of women and blacks as second class citizens. This was a craft form that was (and is) everywhere, but rarely attains a high status. Silhouette cutting, for me, was my rebellion against high art and painting, and to me a way of undermining the patriarchal tendency in Western art.[2]
Producing work that has received praise and criticism in equal parts, Walker is a provocative and challenging contemporary figure who offers a challenging portrait of American history. Probing the intersections of race, gender, sexuality, and power, Walker intends to make work where, as she describes, “viewer[s]…get pulled into history, into fiction, into something totally demeaning and possibly very beautiful.”[3]
– Elisabeth Smith, SAM Collection and Provenance Associate
The
Seattle Asian Art Museum is officially reopen! Thank you to the thousands
of people who streamed through the reimagined galleries at the free
housewarming event last weekend. The museum starts regular hours on Wednesday,
February 12.
“I felt freed, well, just to look”: Stefan Milne examines Boundless at the Asian Art Museum and The American War at ARTS at King Street Station, which both “explore how we see Asia.”
Seattle Refined shot a recent episode from the museum, including a fantastic segment
with SAM curators Foong Ping and Xiaojin Wu (starts at :40).
The Stranger’s Charles
Mudede on the
work of Marisa Williamson, who has two shows on view in Seattle at
SOIL Gallery and Jacob Lawrence Gallery.
Crosscut’s Margo
Vansynghel on the
new local documentary, Keepers of the Dream: Seattle Women Black
Panthers, which premiered last Friday at Northwest Film Forum and will
screen again on February 20.
“Women were
critical to the survival of the organization,” [Robyn] Spencer says. “They were
the movers, the shakers, the theorists, the thinkers, the organizers — they
were keeping the party going.”
Inter/National News
Artist Beverly Pepper
died this week at 97. Two of her works grace the Olympic Sculpture Park. Here’s
Artnet’s obituary
for the legendary sculptor.
“Your eyes and mind
enter them easily and roam through the different layers of brushwork and narrative
suggestion. There’s an unexpected optimism to all this. The paintings also
dwell in silence, slow us down and hypnotize.”
And Finally
Did you know that the Asian Art Museum will screen this film on February 26? Well, we will!
– Rachel Eggers, SAM Associate Director of Public Relations
In honor of Black History Month, Object of the
Week will highlight works by celebrated Black artists in SAM’s permanent
collection throughout the month of February.
“I wait until intuition moves me, and then I begin.”
– James Washington, Jr.
Though born and raised in Mississippi, James Washington, Jr. is proudly remembered as a seminal Northwest artist and member of the Northwest School. Close to other notable artists from the region, like George Tsutakawa, Mark Tobey, and Morris Graves, Washington shared an affinity for the natural world. Surely informed by his upbringing—his father was a Baptist minister—Washington’s work also possessed spiritual elements, further connecting him to his cohort of Northwest artists. In Washington’s words, “art is a holy land where initiates seek to reveal the spirituality of matter.”
Before moving to Seattle in 1944, Washington taught as a WPA artist in Mississippi. Upon his arrival in the Pacific Northwest, he worked in the Bremerton Naval Yard as an electrician. Then a painter, he was soon introduced to Mark Tobey, who would become a lifelong friend and mentor. As Washington continued to navigate Seattle’s arts community, he also traveled and, in 1951, visited the famed social realist painters Diego Rivera and David Siqueiros in Mexico. Although this meeting was the impetus for the trip, it was another experience altogether that altered Washington’s artistic trajectory: when visiting the ancient pyramids of Teotihuacán, he was drawn to a piece of volcanic rock which he couldn’t leave behind—this stone would be the first of many sculptures Washington would carve, and the reason for his move away from painting.
Wounded Eagle No. 10 (1963) is just one of seven stone sculptures by Washington in SAM’s collection. It is a tender and sorrowful image, rendered delicately by the artist despite its granite medium. And while Washington would carve a variety of animals and humans, birds were a recurring subject—the eagle, in particular, for its symbolism of salvation and ascension. Guided by a self-described ‘spiritual force’ intrinsic to his geologic materials, Washington would alter his stones only slightly, preferring instead to let their natural form, shape, and coloration determine the subject matter. Moved by intuition, he considered himself a conduit through which art would reveal itself.
– Elisabeth Smith, SAM Collection and Provenance Associate
The Seattle Asian
Art Museum reopens to the public this weekend with a free two-day celebration.
10,000 free tickets for the housewarming event have been claimed, but the
museum reopens with regular hours on Wednesday, February 12.
“The larger
questions we’re asking for this reopening are, ‘Where is Asia? What is Asia?’”
says Xiaojin Wu, the curator of Japanese and Korean art at the museum. “We’re
showing how the borders are fluid throughout history.” –From The Art Newspaper
“When the Asian Art
Museum opens on Saturday, the architects hope that previous visitors will see
their museum in a new light. Says Amada Cruz, CEO and director of the Seattle
Art Museum, ‘We could not be more excited to open the doors of the museum and
welcome everyone back.’” –Elizabeth Fazzare, Architectural Digest
“With so much to
see and contemplate in the Seattle Asian Art Museum, there needed to be space
to let the mind wander into a void for a bit. The experience would not be
complete without it. The curators and architects all should be commended for
seeing through a new vision that will expand audience’s awareness of Asia, but
also remind them that the human pursuit of beauty and the sublime is, indeed,
timeless and boundless.” –T.s. Flock, Vanguard
Local News
Crosscut shares a
story—and impressive footage—of Seattle Symphony’s new conductor, Thomas
Dausgaard, who “feels the music in his hair.”
For Seattle Met,
Charlie Lahud-Zahner visits the Sea Mar Museum of Chicano/a/Latino/a Culture,
and finds catharsis.
“As a Latinx
Seattleite often feeling like the last brown unicorn in the Ballard Trader
Joe’s, and on the lookout for authentic representation, this south side museum
is a godsend.”
“With works that
emphasized the immaterial, or the breakdown of matter, the exhibition begged
the question: how applicable is the term Material Art? It seems that at this
early stage, the label may conjure more questions than answers.”
This abstract composition is pieced together from fragments of ordinary things—corrugated cardboard, painted fabric, and wrinkled burlap. The surface is pierced, stained, and gouged, painfully reminiscent of scarred skin. It comes from a series called Sacchi (sacks), which use humble materials to create compositions that hover between painting and sculpture. Alberto Burri, who had been a doctor in the Italian army during World War II, started making art when he was a prisoner of war in Texas in 1943. As much as anything, the Sacchi seem to be about the temporary nature of materials, experiences, life—for many viewers in the 1950s, they seemed to express the suffering and darkness of the war years.
Burri created Sacco
in 1955 when he was staying in New York. He had become friends with Harold and
Hester Diamond, a young New York couple with an interest in art (Harold, a
schoolteacher, would go on to become a prominent art dealer). Harold’s brother
owned the Upper West Side building where Mark Rothko had his studio, and the
Diamonds, who lived upstairs, arranged for Burri to use the studio. He included
the sleeve of one of Harold Diamond’s discarded shirts in the lower right of
this work, and presented the work to the Diamonds at the end of his stay.
Decades later in 1995, Hester Diamond gave Sacco to the Seattle Art Museum in
memory of the artist, who had died that same year. Harold Diamond had passed
away in 1982, and Hester, with her second husband Ralph Kaminsky, had become a friend
of SAM and a supporter of the Seattle Opera, whose Ring cycle brought her to Seattle numerous times. Over the years
she gave three more works to SAM, all very different from the Burri.
One of them is this wonderfully strange family portrait of
Leda, Jupiter in the form of a swan, and their three children, hatched from
eggs—a work by the mid-16th century Flemish painter Vincent Sellaer. The
combination of appealing and unsettling visual qualities is typical of
Mannerism, a style which attracted Hester’s interest beginning in the early
1990s. Previously devoted to 20th-century art, she fell in love with the refined
technique, inventiveness, and beauty of 15th- and 16th-century European
painting and sculpture and shifted her collecting focus.
Hester Diamond was an enthusiastic and generous friend to
international art institutions, artists, curators, scholars, and gallerists.
The seriousness of her commitment to art was matched by her sense of humor and
love of adventure as she explored new fields. A lifelong New Yorker, Hester had
a close relationship with the Metropolitan Museum of Art and made significant
gifts to her hometown museum over the decades. SAM is fortunate that she also recognized
how works from her collection could make a difference here in Seattle.
Hester’s collecting interests could encompass a post-war collage roughly fashioned out of the ephemeral everyday, as well as a painting superbly crafted to last forever. Both are now valued works in our collection which future generations will be able to enjoy thanks to her generosity. Sadly, they outlast Hester herself, who died on January 23, 2020 at the age of 91. She will be greatly missed.
– Chiyo Ishikawa, Susan Brotman Deputy Director for Art and Curator of European Painting and Sculpture
Check out this week’s edition of the International Examiner, with a special section on the Asian Art Museum that reopens on February 8. It includes articles on Be/longing, the building itself, the Gardner Center, a know-you-before-you-go for the opening weekend events, and a special thank-you from SAM. Articles on Boundless and the conservation center should hit online tomorrow—see everything in print now.
“Preacher of the
arts”: Crosscut’s Margo Vansynghel interviews Raymond Tymas-Jones, president of
Cornish College of the Arts, who has a
bold plan for the institution’s future.
“The concept of
their endeavor . . . is simple: Put together one show a year with a kickass
lineup, pay the performers royally, preach the gospel that working artists
deserve a fair wage, have a damn good time and repeat.”
“After a long pause
a nine-year-old said: ‘Objects have rights.’ The phrase has stuck. It captures
both the need to conserve objects and to consider them as active participants
in the museum experience.”
Made from ceramic, bronze, copper, or even jade, water droppers are small vessels used in calligraphy and brush painting. Designed with two small holes, one for adding water and one for dispensing water, only a few drops fall out at a time—a crucial feature when preparing liquid ink, which involves grinding a stick of ink against an inkstone with water.
Though an unassuming instrument, water droppers have a long
history. The earliest known examples of Chinese water droppers can be dated to
the 5th and 6th centuries, while Japanese water droppers date to the 8th
century. Centuries later, during the Edo period (1603-1868) and into the Meiji
period (1868-1912), Japan saw the emergence of more complicated water droppers
in various shapes and sizes, ranging from plants and deities to animals and fruits.
Such decorative droppers became popular accessories for the nobility and literati, and were often inscribed or made in auspicious forms. The zodiac animals are a set of calendar symbols that came to Japan from ancient China, and their representation served to invoke good luck and prosperity. This 19th-century dropper in SAM’s collection, modeled in the shape of an undeniably expressive and charming rat (the first animal in the zodiac), was likely intended to symbolize success, creativity, and intelligence.
– Elisabeth Smith, SAM Collection and Provenance Associate
Image: Water dropper modeled as a rat, 19th century, Japanese, bronze, 1 5/8 x 3 1/2 x 1 7/8 in., Gift of Frank D. Stout, 92.47.119
The Japanese art gallery at SAM’s downtown location was recently reinstalled with a focus on the Mingei movement in Exceptionally Ordinary: Mingei 1920–2020, on view through Novemeber 8, 2020. Initiated in the 1920s by the Japanese collector and connoisseur Yanagi Soetsu (1889–1961), Mingei elevated functional, everyday crafts to art objects. Since its foundation, Mingei’s broad applications range from mid-century decorative arts to contemporary designs, ceramics, textiles, sculptures, and prints, examples of which are hanging in our gallery. Prominently featured, are works by the late Seattle-based artist George Tsutakawa on loan from the George Tsutakwa Art Legacy. The Tsutakawa family share below about George’s inspiration and how his furniture fits in the installation at SAM!
George Tsutakawa began to build bronze fountain sculptures in 1961 with the installation of his first fountain at the Seattle Public Library. He eventually created 75 fountain sculptures in the United States, Canada, and Japan. The fountains reflect his intense interest in the cyclical flow of water from the heavens to earth, creating rivers and oceans that nourish life. His basis of humanity in the Shinto religion indicated reverence for life in all forms made by nature, such as trees and rocks.
Tsutakawa’s professional art career spanned 60 years. He was a professor of art at the University of Washington for 37 years. In his personal statement from The Pacific Northwest Artists and Japan in 1982, he expressed that sometime in the 1960s his travels and studies of traditional Japanese arts allowed him to reaffirm his “conviction in the Oriental view of nature school which sees Man as one part of nature, a part that must live in harmony with the rest of nature.”
Thus Tsutakawa’s furniture from the 1940s and 1950s reveals this conviction to nature within his art and serves as the starting point for his later artistic forms. Although he was a modernist, even in his furniture forms, his work relates to the Japanese Mingei movement, which is largely based on traditional and folk art.
Tsutakawa’s early furniture is functional and evokes a connection to nature through fluid organic shapes and materials.
The Tsutakawa family is currently reorganizing the artist’s collection with the hope of preserving his work and making it more open to the public as well. You can visit SAM to see Tsutakawa’s artwork in Exceptionally Ordinary: Mingei 1920–2020, on view through November 8, 2020.
– Mayumi Tsutakawa & Chyenne Andrews
Images: Installation view Exceptionally Ordinary: Mingei 1920–2020, Seattle Art Museum 2019, photos: Nina Dubinsky. Kizamu Tsutakawa
The Seattle Asian Art Museum reopens February 8 and we want to be
sure you know all the free and discounted ways that you can visit the
reimagined and reinstalled museum!
Even though the Housewarming:
Free Reopening Weekend is sold out and we are not accepting walkups on
February 8 or 9, there are many other opportunities to visit for free. Today’s
Seattle Asian Art Museum breaks
boundaries to offer a thematic, rather than geographic or chronological,
exploration of art from the
world’s largest continent. The restoration of the historic Art Deco building,
improvements to critical systems, expanded gallery and education spaces, and a
new park lobby that connects the museum to the surrounding Volunteer Park are
just some of the ways the Asian Art Museum has been transformed and preserved
as a cultural and community resource for future generations.
An important part of the work that took place while the Asian Art
museum was closed for renovation and expansion isn’t something you will notice
about the architecture or art. The City of Seattle financially supported the
preservation and improvements of SAM’s city-owned Art Deco home and in return,
we made a commitment to offer more free ways for members of the community to visit
the Asian Art Museum!
Many programs such as lectures, performances, and tours at the museum are free and include free entry to the galleries. Check out our Free First Saturdays series for kids!
SAM provides discounted rates for students, teens, seniors, and military with ID.
Seniors (65+) and military can visit for $12.99
Students and teens age 15–18 can get tickets for $9.99
Children (14 & under) are always free.
SAM members are free. Join today and RSVP to see the museum before it opens to the public during the Members Open House on February 5 and 6.
First Saturdays and the Second Thursdays of every month are free to all.
The First Friday of every month the Asian Art Museum is free for seniors.
Bring a group of 10 or more and get discounted tickets. Find out more about group visits!
Educators can visit for free anytime with ID. Mark your calendars for a special Educator Open House at the Asian Art Museum on February 27!
Did you know that we now offer free school tours for all public schools at all SAM locations? We also offer bus subsidies for title 1 schools. School tours at the Asian Art Museum start march 1—find out more!
This past summer, 10 teens from the Rainier Vista community joined Seattle Art Museum staff, Olson Kundig Architects, and Sawhorse Revolution for SAM’s one of a kind Design Your [Neighbor]hood Program. Each Design Your [Neighbor]hood program is unique, but this one was truly special because it was the first time that the youth participants got the chance to collaborate in the full design and build process. The teens worked with designers, architects, and builders to take their ideas from the visioning and planning stage, to ideation, refinement, and finally to building.
Design Your [Neighbor]hood is a hands-on program run by Seattle Art Museum that exposes youth to all facets of design, and the connection between design and community change. From architecture to graphic design, fashion, and photography, youth have the opportunity to understand the breadth of this field, meet professionals through trips and office visits, and engage in design thinking and studio processes that give first-person experience.
This year’s group of teens living in the Rainier Vista community, near Rainier Vista Neighborhood House recognized a need for a community sound booth and recording studio. With so many budding performers and musicians in the neighborhood, they were often renting spaces for recording.
The design and build process involved a number of field trips during which the teens gathered ideas and inspiration from notable architectural spaces, and met with various professionals for advice. They visited the Bullitt Center on Capitol Hill and the Olson Kundig offices in Pioneer Square. They also worked to gather input on design ideas from their peers in the community, making sure to be inclusive of all voices and needs as they finalized their design.
After multiple refinements of the process through input from Chris Landingin, project manager at Batt + Lear, and Jesse Kingsley and Chris Poules, architects at Olson Kundig, the youth got to building. Collaborating with Sawhorse Revolution, the teens learned the essentials of power tool safety and introductory carpentry skills. Between the design refinements and the building time, it took them a little over seven weeks to complete their project.
The culminating celebration featured presentations from each teen on their favorite part of the program, specific skills they picked up throughout, and how they envision the space will be used by their peers and the community. Families, friends, and community partners all got a chance to participate in the celebration on a job well done!
Thank you to our partners, Seattle Housing Authority, Delridge Neighborhood Development Association, Olson Kundig Architects, Sawhorse Revolution, Christine Landingin from Batt + Lear, and Hearst Foundations for all of their support.
– Sarah Bloom, SAM’s Associate Director of Education
“It’s an image I’ve
seen hundreds of times—as misandrist memes across the internet, a patch on the
back of my partner’s denim jacket, to list a few iterations—but witnessing
Artemisia Gentileschi’s Judith
and Holofernes in person at the Seattle Art Museum last weekend still sparked
a visceral reaction.”
Local News
Crosscut’s Margo
Vansynghel reports on the
“badass” PNW artists who received prestigious Creative Capital
grants, including J Mase III and Lady Dane Figueroa Edidi.
“To him, the
preprogrammed voice trapped in a mass-market workhorse metaphorically resonated
with the life of the average Korean millennial. The ironic sadness of being
comforted by a product of a system that creates the discomfort in the first
place seemed ripe for dramatic inquiry.”
Artnet’s Sarah Cascone
reports that the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art has acquired
the Separate Cinema Archive, a collection “documenting
African-American cinema history from 1904 to the present day.”
“In an election
year in which the country is bitterly divided between those for and against
President Donald Trump, and over who is welcome to immigrate and become a
citizen, it seems likely to resonate.”
This 1975 screenprint by Jacob Lawrence was commissioned on the occasion of the United States’ bicentennial. The prompt: to create a print that reflects an aspect of American history since 1776. Lawrence, one of 33 artists to contribute to the portfolio An American Portrait, 1776-1976, chose to depict the infamous incident in Alabama known as ‘Bloody Sunday’.
On Sunday, March
7, 1965, hundreds of unarmed protesters—led by civil rights leaders such as
Martin Luther King, Jr. and John Lewis—organized a 54-mile march from Selma to
the state’s capitol, Montgomery, advocating for the voting rights of African
Americans. As demonstrators began their route out of Selma, they were met by a barrage
of state troopers at Edmund Pettus Bridge. With orders from Alabama Governor
George Wallace “to use whatever measures are necessary to prevent a march,” the
state troopers attacked the activists—resulting in the death of 26-year-old
Jimmie Lee Jackson—using clubs and tear gas. Though the march dissipated due to
this senseless violence, two days later the protesters safely reached
Montgomery (thanks to court-ordered protection) and numbered nearly 25,000.
As horrible
as these events were, what took place on March 7—publicized nationally and
internationally—helped galvanize public opinion and finally mobilize Congress
to pass the Voting Rights Act, which was signed into law by President Lyndon Johnson
five months later.
In Lawrence’s screenprint, the troopers’ brutal actions are represented through the presence of a vicious, snarling dog. To its right, we see African American men and women of various ages clustered together, their political solidarity conveyed through their visual unity. A tumultuous sky surrounds them, whose jagged cloud forms find likeness in the choppy waters below.
This horrible event would leave an indelible mark on our nation’s history and is remembered today for the courage shown by the thousands of activists who marched for a more equitable world. When articulating his choice to depict this important moment, Lawrence recalled: “I thought [the Selma-to-Montgomery march] was part of the history of the country, part of the history of our progress; not of just the black progress, but of the progress of the people.”
– Elisabeth Smith, SAM Collection and Provenance Associate
In February, SAM
reopens the doors of the Asian Art Museum. Galerie includes the opening on their list of “11 Major Art Museums Opening in
2020.” And The Stranger’s Jasmyne Keimig shares “four things you should know” about the reimagined museum.
“What does it mean
to dig beyond that, to tell different stories in a different way — by whom and
for whom? All of that is very present in the work that I do.”
Jason Farago of the
New York Times on Trump’s threatening of Iranian cultural sites—“unambiguously, a war crime”—and the response
from many in the museum field.
“Murdering one
person, or a hundred people, is not enough for some; murdering history delivers
another kind of damage.”
Since John Baldessari’s death last week, there has been a
commensurate stream of articles recounting his outsized influence as a
pioneering artist and educator, with a prolific career spanning decades.
With beginnings as a painter, Baldessari, like many artists of the 1960s and 70s, eventually gravitated toward conceptual art and the pre-eminence of ideas over objects. However, unlike many of his contemporaries, Baldessari imbued his conceptual art practice with humor and wit, employing “a sort of Dada irony and sometimes colorful Pop Art splashes . . . to rescue conceptual art from what he saw as its high-minded self-seriousness.”[1]
Baldessari’s enduring interests included the relationship
between text and image—which often meant pitting them against one another to
challenge their assumed accuracy—and the appropriation of images from
photography and film. His 1999 painting, The
Important an Unimportant (from the
Tetrad Series), in SAM’s collection is an exemplar work in this regard, a
combination of digital printing, hand lettering, and acrylic paint on canvas.
The composition, made up of quadrants, juxtaposes square
images—a glass with red daisies, a woman’s finger pointing down, and two skeleton
hands playing an organ—with a textual element that reads, “the important an
unimportant.” If these sequences appear heterogeneous and somewhat
anachronistic, it is because they are. For example, the excerpt in the upper
right is lifted from Goya’s 1797 painting The
Duchess of Alba, painted while the duchess mourned her husband’s
death. In the lower left, a still from Erich von Stroheim’s 1928 silent film, The Wedding March, is a not-so-subtle
harbinger of the fate which befalls the romance and aristocratic aspirations of
the film’s protagonist lovers. The text in the lower right, even, is an excerpt
from Portuguese writer Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935), “for whom nullity was a
muse.”[2]
Taken together, these citations enrich our understanding of
Baldessari’s wide range of influences. And whether we know the exact origins of
his chosen references or not, the appropriated images and texts are here imbued
with new meaning. We are invited—and, importantly, required—to participate as viewers to consider their relationship
to one another and the history of visual representation more broadly.
A serial creator, Baldessari always adhered to his now-famous maxim to “not make any more boring art.” A simple enough credo, such a motivation directly impacts us as viewers, who are on the receiving end—simultaneously empowered and challenged by his work. Perhaps best articulated by New York Times art critic Roberta Smith, “[Baldessari’s] work amuses, unsettles, questions and makes you look twice and think thrice; laugh out loud; and in general gain a sharpened awareness of the overlapping processes of art making, art viewing, and art thinking.”[3]
– Elisabeth Smith, SAM Collection & Provenance Associate
SAM’s Community Gallery has been displaying work from artists of all ages located throughout Washington State for over a decade. Shows featuring photography, mixed media, sewing and textile arts, ceramics, and 2-D and 3-D mixed media have filled this space over the years. Youth, SAM staff and volunteers, community organizations, nonprofits supporting arts programming, and schools and classes have had their art displayed on the ground floor of SAM’s downtown location, serving as a colorful reminder of creativity and community building.
2019 staff art show
Before I worked at SAM, I installed a show in the Community Gallery representing a multitude of different artists who connected with the Yesler Terrace community and beyond. It brought many community members to SAM for the first time and the artists involved in the show expressed the feeling of importance that came with having their work displayed in the museum.
With the beginning of a new decade, SAM is taking a new approach to the Community Gallery. We are working to show art from communities and artists who are underrepresented in the museum world due to systematic oppression. We are looking for artwork by and for artists of color, queer artists, disabled artists, youth and elderly artists, immigrant and refugee communities, and low-income artists.
Naramore award ceremony, May 2019
We now have a simple application that outlines our equity goals for the space and how the Community Gallery can be used. Take a look at our call for art to learn more and apply to hang your community’s artwork downtown at SAM.
We are also adding more Community Gallery space in a city where art spaces are becoming more and more tenuous. The renovation and expansion of the Seattle Asian Art Museum created a new, additional Community Gallery space. Once it opens in February, the Asian Art Museum Community Gallery will feature works by and for the Asian Pacific Islander community in Seattle throughout its inaugural year.
We’ll also be curating our first youth-focused gallery space downtown, featuring a Teen Arts Group-curated exhibition of youth artists for its premiere show. SAM is always working to extend and expand the accessibility and connections within our community and the updated Community Gallery guidelines are one way we can’t wait to share with you!
“The wrinkles on
his face, his palms and his right heel are visible, as are the toenails on his
forward foot. His setting may be remote, but this Jerome is a real human
being.”
In case you missed it:
The Seattle Times’ December 21 print edition featured photojournalist Alan
Berner’s behind-the-scenes look at the Do Ho Suh
installation in progress with Liz Brown
David Carrier for
Hyperallergic on the
“endlessly inventive” Jörg Immendorff, whose solo show is now on
view in Madrid; his Café Deutschland 38. Parteitag, just added to SAM’s
collection in honor of Kim Rorschach, is now on view.
“The most
compelling aspect of the show is its focus on faces. Radiant faces loom out
from images on the walls. At a time when immigrants are being described as
dangerous, faceless people, these faces ask visitors to pause and look.”
The New York Times’
Will Heinrich reviews the Brooklyn Museum’s reinstallation of its Chinese and
Japanese collections, calling it “5,000 Years of Asian Art in 1 Single,
Thrilling Conversation.”
“Redesigning an
American museum’s Asian wing is no mean feat. How to convey the very real
throughlines that make terms as broad as ‘Chinese art’ and ‘Japanese art’
meaningful, while also doing justice to the staggering variety of these
ancient, and hugely populous, cultures?”
This 16th-century Flemish rosary bead or “prayer nut,” not even two inches in diameter, is a virtuosic display of wood and ivory carving. Floral patterns encircled by delicate ivory bands adorn each hemisphere. These swirling petals draw the beholder in for a closer look, which turns out to be worthwhile: the bead’s subtle hinge and clasp lead to hidden depths.
Opening the prayer nut reveals two impossibly small and
detailed scenes from the life of Christ. The smaller side shows Saint
Christopher bearing the young Jesus safely across the river, while the larger
side bears an intimate scene of the Virgin and Child with Mary’s parents, Saint
Anne and Saint Joaquim.
The sight of the intricate carvings alone is breathtaking, but these objects were wonderfully interactive as well. At the height of their popularity, most prayer nuts were worn on rosaries. These strings of beads were central to a multisensory experience of worship, where different beads loosely corresponded with recitations of ‘Aves’ and ‘Pater Nosters’, among other prayers. We can imagine the feeling of the prayer beads in hand, the sound of them clacking together in time with the holy words, combining into a trance-like meditation, in which the worshipper was meant to visualize and contemplate scenes from the Bible.[1] Those men and women lucky enough to have a beautiful prayer nut at the end of their rosary would open it carefully at the culmination of their prayers and be rewarded by an actual vision of these scenes.
However, we can’t only call these people lucky—they were
also wealthy. Prayer nuts were symbols of status as much as faith, and church
Reformers specifically criticized prayer nuts as empty claims to piety by the
superrich.[2]
This beautiful example in SAM’s collection would likely have been particularly
precious, as it is made of sandalwood (an unusual choice) and ivory, both
import goods from faraway continents.
I am continually in awe of the way objects like these, with
a bit of context and empathy, can connect us to people we have not remembered
in written archives. They never mean only one thing, and their stories will
keep unfolding as long we care to look under the surface.
– Linnea Hodge, Curatorial Division Coordinator
[1] Reindert Falkenburg, “Prayer Nuts: Feasting the Eyes of the Heart,” in Prayer Nuts, Private Devotion, and Early Modern Art Collecting, ed. Evelin Wetter and Frits Scholten (Abegg-Stiftung, 2017), 15-17.
[2] Falkenburg, “Prayer Nuts”, 13
Images: Rosary Bead, Miniature Religious Scenes, early 16th century, Flemish, sandalwood, pear wood, and ivory, 1 9/16 x 1 7/16 in., Eugene Fuller Memorial Collection, 67.4, photo: Craig Boyko Art Gallery of Ontario, 2016
One of the few successful female painters of her time, Gentileschi’s famous painting is hanging at SAM in Flesh and Blood, an exhibition of Renaissance and Baroque paintings. Judith and Holofernes provides one of the characters from the play, Blood Water Paint, recently restaged at Seattle’s 12th Ave Arts Studio by Macha Theatre Works. Playwright Joy McCullough‘s YA novel adaptation of Blood Water Paint won the 2019 Washington State Book Award and we couldn’t pass up the chance to bring these actors into the galleries to recreate a scene for you!
See this important artwork at SAM during Flesh and Blood, on view January 26. This exhibition offers a rare opportunity to experience the fierce beauty of art from the 16th and 17th centuries. Renowned Renaissance artists such as Titian and Raphael join Baroque masters including Artemisia Gentileschi, Jusepe de Ribera, Guido Reni, and Bernardo Cavallino to reveal the aspirations and limitations of the human body and the many ways it can express love and devotion, physical labor, and tragic suffering.
Based on true events, Blood Water Paint unfolds lyrically through interactions with the women featured in Artemisia’s most famous paintings and culminates in her fierce battle to rise above the most devastating event in her life and fight for justice despite horrific consequences.
Macha Theatre Works is a fearless female non-profit arts organization showcasing exceptional artists, delivering innovative education programs, and staging new theatrical works that feature strong female characters.
Learn a little about one of the newest artists to join the SAM Gallery roster. Anne Marie Nequette‘s work will be on view in SAM Gallery from January –February 1 in the show New Art, New Artists 2020!
Nequette approaches her work from a background in sculpture, installation, and architecture. Her current body of work, Sea Change, focuses on the rapidly increasing displacement of people in coastal cities worldwide that are considered at high risk. She thinks about all of the people who live at the sea’s edge, and how water levels are now expected to rise, and where will those millions of people go? and how? She has long been concerned about “where we humans are headed regarding climate change, from forest fires to coastal flooding, from collapse of agricultural lands and practices to collapse of necessary species, oceans, and safe drinking water, etc. The power of water is something that many people underestimate, and only those who have survived a flood or hurricane have some idea of what that might be like.”
The idea and the initial list of cities for Sea Change came from an article in TheGuardian in 2017.[1] It included interactive maps of Shanghai, Hong Kong, Osaka, Rio de Janeiro, Miami, The Hague, and Alexandria that showed the grave danger these cities face, given their high population numbers (Shanghai at 34.8 million in 2015) and/or precious agricultural land (Alexandria and the Nile Delta). She works abstractly, primarily in paint and collage. If she has been to the city depicted, she relies on her experience to create a color and texture palette from paper on which she draws and paints. If she has not been to the city, she reads about the city and travels via Google image, and Google satellite maps looking at the city from above as well as from the street, to get a feel for what it is like. As she works, she imagines a city that has become inundated, though not completely underwater. Each of these works is titled with the population figures from governmental sources for the metropolitan areas and the works are named for the people, their cities, and the year the population number was last updated, i.e., ‘Shanghai, China, 39.4 million in 2015’.
– Pamela Jaynes SAM Gallery Coordinator
[1] The three-degree world: the cities that will be drowned by global warming, (Friday, November 3, 2017) Josh Holder, Niko Kommenda and Jonathan Watts (updated May 28, 2018).
Bangkok, Thailand, 14.6 million in 2010, Anne Marie Nequette, Collage on canvas. Keihanshin (Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe), Japan, 19.3 million in 2010, Anne Marie Nequette, Collage on canvas.
The Seattle Review of
Books is asking local luminaries, “if you could give everyone in Seattle one
book as a gift this holiday season, what book would you choose and why?” Here
are selections from Amada Cruz, SAM’s Illsley Ball Nordstrom
Director and CEO.
“While remembering
people like Pratt or Mississippi activist Medgar Evers by erecting a bronze statue
or naming a park after them is also meaningful and important, there’s something
about the domesticity and “everyday-ness” of a face on a stamp that’s
just as appealing. It carries emotional power.”
The “inside-out” trend
continues: Nina Siegal for the New York Times on Rotterdam’s Boijmans van
Beuningen Museum and its forthcoming “Depot,” which will house completely
open-to-the-public collection storage.
In the weeks
leading up to the winter solstice, light—increasingly subsumed by
darkness—feels like a precious resource. It can be easy to forget just how much
we rely on daylight, and difficult to remember what life was like even six
months ago. Luckily, Saturday brings with it the shortest day and longest night
of the year, and longer and longer days thereafter.
For artist Edda
Renouf, the solstice is a perfect subject given her interest in light, nature,
and the passage of time. Known for her minimal and meditative compositions,
Renouf’s paintings and works on paper often engage material qualities that are
intrinsic to her given mediums. In Solstice
Echo, for example, the weave of the paper is enhanced by the verticality of
the composition’s emergent form, further dramatized by deep red and black oil
pastel hues.
In the words of Renouf, whose work is
often linked to post-minimalism and the work of Agnes Martin: “Materials speak
to me and unexpected things happen. It is from a silent conversation between materials
and imagination, from intuitive listening that the paintings and drawings are
born.” Renouf’s quiet and meditative compositions reveal essential truths about
painting and drawing through simple formal decisions.
In Solstice
Echo, the oil pastel sits on the surface of the textured paper—calling
attention to its two-dimensionality—but also highlights a depth and deeper
material structure that belies the paper’s inherent flatness. Taken together
with the work’s title, Solstice Echo
is indeed a meditation on light and space, capturing the subtle tension between
lightness and darkness.
– Elisabeth Smith, SAM Collection & Provenance Associate
In September 2019,
Kimerly Rorschach, SAM’s Illsley Ball Nordstrom Director and CEO, retired after
seven years of leading the institution and an illustrious 25-year career in the
arts. When Rorschach joined SAM in November 2012, she set her sights on
creating a schedule of exhibitions and programs for the museum’s three
locations that was compelling and timely and that would resonate with a rapidly
growing and diversifying Seattle community.
During her tenure, equity and inclusion also became top priorities. As part of a commitment to building racial equity, addressing institutional racism, and bringing forth real change, she led the museum’s participation in Turning Commitment into Action, a cohort led and funded by the Office of Arts & Culture in partnership with Office for Civil Rights in 2015. After taking part in this important cohort, SAM established a staff leadership team dedicated to these efforts, and hired Priya Frank as Associate Director for Community Programs in the museum’s Education department and also appointed her the founding chair of the newly established Equity Team.
Beginning in 2016, SAM established racial equity training for the staff, volunteers, docent corps, and Board of Trustees. The museum also created special exhibition advisory committees to ensure that diverse community voices are part of the exhibition, programming, and marketing planning processes. Equity was added to the museum’s official values statement and integrated into the institution’s strategic plan, which guides all departments’ goals. The Emerging Arts Leader internship was also established, a paid internship aimed at candidates who are underrepresented in the museum field. These are just some of the ongoing efforts that Rorschach led the museum in pursuing.
In honor of Rorschach’s extraordinary vision in guiding the museum’s dedication to equity work, the SAM Board of Trustees, along with friends of Rorschach, have created an endowment that establishes permanent funding for diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts at SAM. The Kimerly Rorschach Fund for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion helps ensure that these efforts will continue at the museum and paves the way for SAM to be a leader in this crucial area of the arts.
– Rachel Eggers, SAM Associate Director of Public Relations
The paintings in Flesh and Blood: Italian Masterpieces from the Capodimonte Museum span the High Renaissance and the Baroque eras, so it’s only fitting that the Early Music Youth Academy from Seattle Historical Arts for Kids would play these two pieces by Salamone Rossi in SAM’s galleries while this exhibition is hanging through January 26.
Rossi’s music displays the transition from late Renaissance compositions to more Baroque-style arrangements. This selection, “Gagliarda detta la Norsina” and “Passeggio d’un Balletto” was published in 1607. Behind the talented youths performing this music, glimpse Artemisia Gentileschi’s Judith and Holofernes, painted sometime between 1612 and 1617. You can also spot Ribera’s Saint Jerome, 1626, and The Virgin of the Souls with Saints Clare and Francis, 1622–23, by Battistello Caracciolo. Don’t miss seeing these paintings that have never before been exhibited in Seattle—Get tickets to visit SAM today!
Amada Cruz, SAM’s Illsley
Ball Nordstrom Director and CEO, was interviewed
by Puget Sound Business Journal. She shared her vision for museums,
her morning routine of café con leche and public radio, and other fun facts.
“We should think of
museums as civic spaces where all kinds of people can meet, convene, have a
shared experience and celebrate our shared humanities. That’s more important
now than ever.”
“She speaks five
languages — ‘three of them badly.’”
How’s your holiday
shopping going? The Seattle Times recently shared their Holiday
Gift Guide; among their recommendations for gifts for men is a SAM
Shop-exclusive, a Seattle edition of the chic reusable water bottle,
Phil the Bottle.
“It was community,
and a bunch of women sharing space and time, and doing something together,”
Giller said. “It was different every time, but it was always a good feeling.”
“Scrambling up a
fig tree vine, he found his way into a small grotto. Its far wall bore a panel,
painted with a red ocher pigment. When Aubert saw it, he was astounded. ‘I
thought, wow, it’s like a whole scene,’ he says. ‘You’ve got humans, or maybe
half-human half-animals, hunting or capturing these animals … it was just
amazing.’”
