The exhibition “The Possible” at the Berkeley Art Museum was an experimental exhibition, and was guest-curated by David Wilson. It is a series of artistic events instead of a traditional display of artwork, full of creativity and exploration. The exhibition becomes a facilitator of popular artists’ events. Lawrence Rinder is the director of the museum, and fascinatingly, wanted to use this exhibition to re-create the experience of art camp. I was pretty confused when I realized that the museum was full of what looked like children’s artwork, but there were no signs or labels telling me who created what. This whole exhibition was very open to interpretation. It emphasized people interacting, a range of audiences intersecting, and people interested in different things coming together, all at the museum for the same reasons but with different interests; this makes it very exciting!
Walking into this museum, it looked like a large, messy studio. Everywhere I looked was what looked like a work area. There was an area to do ceramics, and there was an artist there making pottery in this area, along with a large random-looking display of pottery sitting on several shelves. I walked further and saw a large, growing circular rug by Fritz Haeg that looked at first glance to be just a rug. I asked someone who worked there for more information about it, and she told me that it is a rug that travels all over the world, growing bigger as more and more people of the public braid the donated fabric together, adding onto the size and color, even aesthetic, of the rug.
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Fritz Haeg, U.S. born 1969
Domestic Integrities Rug, 2012-present
Donated clothes, towels, sheets, and textiles lent by the artist |
This was very interesting to me, and it was the first time I had come to appreciate something that I once disrespected, before I understood it. All I had to do was understand that this is a wonderfully different art show- one that the public engages in physically and literally. I had to be welcoming to not understanding everything, but respect that people like me had a privilege to create and have it showcased together as a community. Lawrence Rinder said, in reference to the museum’s move to a new building in downtown Berkeley in 2016, “We see this (exhibit) as a grand experiment which we will learn from as we move into a new space. We welcome the unknown and trust the creative spirit to let itself go.” (website source: http://www.sfgate.com/art/article/The-Possible-Berkeley-Art-Museum-offers-5166017.php)
I walked upstairs to find a room with a video playing, which did not engage me very much, but little did I know it would be the start to a very confusing experience. I walked further upstairs to find a massive display of tiny ceramics, mixed with very large ceramics. I was wondering how old the artist was because this seemed to be the work of a child, and I also wondered why each piece was so different from one another- I wondered where and how they connected.
I started to notice as I got closer to these pieces, that some of them required a lot of attention, even skill, and were rather impressive.
Then I noticed that most of them were very unimpressive and I was very offended that myself, who I consider to create real artwork, would take years to get my work shown in a museum this reputable, but children’s level work was being shown. I was very confused about what was going on here.
I continued wandering the museum and the next part of the exhibition I saw was MOST interesting of all. I was still confused about what it was, and not being aware that this show was an experiment that the public was creating, myself included, I kept a distance from everything thinking it was not to be touched. This was a room full of guitars on the floor, boxes, cables, amplifiers, recording equipment, microphones, duct tape, electrical tape, aluminum foil, broken mirrors, fabric, paper, and even a wall with a projected image on a blue screen.
I walked carefully around everything thinking it was premeditated and intentionally placed there by an artist. I wanted to pick up the electric Fender Stratocasters to play them so badly! I finally came to the conclusion that this room was designed by an artist to represent chaos, and the sounds that come from music and guitars, even singing. Of course later I would find out that I could have played that guitar the whole time. Nevertheless, I think my theory about the room may be accurate.
I kept walking around and started to find some pretty impressive traditional drawings and sculptures that caught my eye. It appealed to me because I love drawing with charcoal and this series resembled what I usually do. After looking at them for a while, these relatively small 18x24’’ or so framed drawings on paper, seemed to exhibit images in them of figures, and horizons, almost landscape-like but very abstract, in an architectural way with the use of so many lines. This set of works was all part of an untitled series, of the Mott-Warsh Collection of Flint, Michigan.
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Untitled, 1973 Graphite on paper
Mott-Warsh Collection, Flint, Michigan |
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Untitled, 1973 Graphite on paper
Mott-Warsh Collection, Flint, Michigan |
These drawings completely fascinated me! From a distance they look like photographs of floating objects like paper bags and human hair or rocks. I love how clear it was visually that there was some type of matter physically taking up space in these, but also they were so open to interpretation at the same time. I love the high values of dark and light and how their juxtapositions contrast. I love the well thought-out compositions- there was something attractive about the way one is able to center the subject on the paper, and it does not make the drawing less interesting. It is almost like this artist is too talented, and makes me want to go home and draw until I can do this type of work. This is a very powerful device, getting the viewer to connect emotionally like that, as well as psychologically.
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Barbara Chase-Riboud, The Malcolm-X Series.
Charcoal and ink on paper |
I was attracted to another series of drawings, that all had a straight horizontal line going across, and they each seemed to depict a small, messy landscape that was quickly sketched, but over time very eloquently revised. It turns out, they were a Monument Drawing series done by Barbara Chase-Riboud in the late 90’s that proposes imagined memorials to individuals and events from history and literature. They were charcoal-and-ink drawings created on top of an identical etching of a simple horizontal line that they all shared. It had many landscape elements and structures that read as rocks and towering post-and-lintels. I usually am not a fan of landscapery or architectural drawings, but I was fond of these. I was interested each time I found myself spending quite a while staring at certain pieces, and trying to figure out why. I was beginning to be fascinated in this exhibition.
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Back downstairs, since I saw everything to be seen upstairs, I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before: there was a HUGE drawing on the wall next to the growing rug, and I could not figure out its purpose, although I noticed the graphite was revealing the texture on the wall it was displayed on. It’s sheer size intrigued me slightly. The technique used was obviously rubbing graphite sticks along the paper, but for what? To show the wall behind it, was my guess.
After that, I walked further, my partner and I about ready to leave, having seen it all already, and we noticed the Kid’s Club.
We talked to some employees there at the museum and they told us that these long tables full of oil- based clay that never dries, was for kids or adults or both, to create and mold and sculpt, and put them on display on the wall. The wall was full of pieces that we could take down and play with and change, and add our pieces to or completely destroy or replace with our own. This was fun!
