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Showing posts with label art gallery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art gallery. Show all posts

Thursday, 24 April 2014

The Ministry Explains It All: Spoliation in the news

Spoliation is a word you might have heard being use a lot in the museum press of late. The term makes it sound a bit like museums are hiding pieces of off fruit in their stores. But actually spoliation refers very specifically to works of art and objects looted by the Nazis during the Second World War. Simply put, UK museums need to ensure that none of their holdings were taken from their rightful owners between 1935-1945. The principal might be straight forward, but the practice is more complex. So when you hear that the Tate, the Ashmolean and the V&A have been very publicly under review by the spoliation advisory panel, it doesn’t mean that museums don’t take this issue very seriously. The Ministry is here to break it down for you and explain why spoliation is so damn complicated and why registrars are critical to museum work. 

President Eisenhower views looted art in a salt mine
It would be easy to think that in the 70-odd years since the Second World War that any art stolen by the Nazis would have ended up back where it belongs by now. However just a quick glance at the news over the past weeks will tell you Nazi loot is still a hot topic. In Germany, Cornelius Gurlitt was found to be hiding a stash of ‘degenerate’ art over £1 billion which his father had acquired with the intention of selling to raise funds for the Nazi party. Just last week, the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra was able to identify the owners of a painting by Paul Signac which had been presented to the institution as thanks for a performance for German soldiers. It seems no matter how much work has been done, there is always something more to be discovered.
A seascape by Paul Signac, recently returned by the Vienna Philharmonic.
The way that spoilation works in practice is a bit more confusing. The big name you’ll hear over and over again are the ‘Washington Principles’. In 1998 there was a conference in Washington about Holocaust-era Assets that ended up creating a non-binding set of principles (so best practice guidelines) that 44 countries including the UK signed up to. This includes all the things you’d expect - ensuring you know the provenance of all your objects for the period 1939-1945, making known any art that has an unclear provenance and, if a claim is made, do everything you can to return the object quickly. In the UK, objects with a squiffy history should be listed on a database hosted by the National Museum Director’s Conference (NMDC). If a claim is made, this goes through the Spoliation Advisory Panel, which is exactly whats happening to the Ashmolean and the V&A at the moment. 

Works by artists like Otto Dix have been recovered from Gurlitt's collection
There isn’t a museum out there that would purposefully want to get in the way of returning spoliated art. However the practicalities of understanding the legal protocols and how it applies to their day to day work is something that, in practice, all institutions struggle with. Undertaking a collection-wide provenance review is a thought that would bring any museum person to tears. It would be nice to think all our objects have been thoroughly provenanced, but let’s just admit they they haven’t. The specialist time it would take can seem impossible when all museums feel short-staffed even for core functions. Things are more straightforward with pieces of art from famous artists which are straightforward to check through databases before acquisition. But the V&A and the Ashmolean are dealing with claims over porcelain figures that maybe didn’t send up so many red flags. 

In museum acquisition paperwork, there is always a section in which the donor or vendor needs to specify where that object was held between 1939 and 1945. If this question cannot be answered clearly, and with proof, that object is suspect. A museum might decide even not to acquire it, and if they did they would need to list it as a risk. But what is so often the case is the donor, and the museum, despite their due diligence, despite their best intentions, simply miss something. It’s only really when a claim comes forward that a certain owner, a certain auction house become suspect. Despite efforts to make clear guidelines and widely accessible databases, the only line of defense against the acquisition of spoliated goods is a registrar with a hawkeye for administrative blips. 

American soldiers with art recovered after the war. 
We’ve already demonstrated how registrars are some of the most important people in a museum. Not only do they make sure everything gets where it needs to be safely, their job is to make sure all acquisitions, loans and disposals are done to the highest of standards. This doesn’t just mean making sure you know all the interesting historical details that help out curators for exhibitions, it means making sure that object was never stolen, isn’t made of some bits of endangered species or is likely to blow up in your face (literally and metaphorically). Provenance actually plays a critical role in a museum’s daily activities, as for example an object without a clear provenance can’t go out on loan. It’s unfortunate then that so many registry positions have been axed from museums during funding cuts. Skilled registrars are what stand in between museums and the spoilation advisory panel. 
This is why your registrar's desk probably looks like this. 
What’s important to take away from these stories is that museums are really doing the best they can to follow best practice and make sure looted art makes it’s way home. The current situation of the V&A and the Ashmolean should in no way reflect on the professionalism of those institutions. You can have the hardest working registrars in the world, but it’s all too easy for something to be missed. At the end of the day, the art world is still struggling to come to grips with the extent to which works of art were looted by the Nazi regime. And as any museum person can tell you, objects can travel to the strangest and most unexpected of places. 

Thursday, 22 August 2013

Review: Michael Landy's 'Saint Alive' at the National Gallery

As with most of my regular weekend gallery outings, I had made a plan to see one of London’s most popular exhibitions, in this case the National Gallery’s Vemeer and Music. On the way in, my trusty museum-hopping amigo E noticed the poster for ‘Saints Alive by Michael Landy’. ‘Is that on now?’ I asked incredulously. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’ ‘Oh yes I heard about this, it was recommended to me by someone at work.’ So after a quick tern around the decidedly mediocre Vemeer, we headed into the main building on the hunt for this mysterious exhibition that had apparently been on since May.

It wasn’t too hard to find. Walk in through the main doors and listen for the distant sounds of thumping and crashing. Queuing in the middle of one of the ornate gilded galleries, the crashing of metal on metal is not exactly what you expect to hear in these hallowed halls. But that’s exactly what ‘Saints Alive’ is all about.

Michael Landy has been working with the National Gallery as their artist in residence since 2009. In his time there, he became inspired by the imagery of the martyrs that runs as a theme across so many centuries of art. Specifically he was interested in the idea of them destroyed themselves to save others and lead them into salvation. So how do you get the average gallery visitor to respond with that kind of abstract concept? Well, you make it big, you make it noisy, you make it fun.

Landy’s ‘Saints’ are not the quiet passive figures of the paintings in the gallery- they tear at their faces, they hit themselves, they shudder and swing. Imagery from famous artworks is crossed with kinetic wheels and pulleys to create larger than life de-constructed statues of metal and fibre glass. At each sculpture, there is a foot-pedal which visitors stomp to animate the sculptures while the attendants look on armed with ear plugs against the clanging art works.

There are so many levels you can enjoy the artworks on. Personally, I love the fact that the sculptures are literally destroying themselves. Now that the show has been open for so many months, the sculptures are scratched and tattered, which I think makes them even more interesting.

What’s really important here, aside from the fact that the art is fascinating, is that Landy has actually managed to pull of exactly what an artist in residence is meant to do: engage audiences in a new way with the collections. The artworks are accessible and funny: walking around the gallery no one is standing in quiet contemplation. People are giggling, smiling, stomping on the pedals and pointing as they notice new aspects. I particularly enjoyed St. Lucy’s disembodied eyes giggling wildly on their plate. Visitors are then invited to find the source paintings in the gallery and look at them in a new light.

So well done National Gallery and Michael Landy for such a fun, interesting, irreverent, noisy, challenging installation. I can only hope other nationals in London will take a cue from this! A little birdy tells the Ministry that the Science Museum is developing an exhibition on robots hopefully in the same vein mixing big questions and entertainment to think differently about our collections. More on that shortly…

'Saint's Alive' is a free exhibition at the National Gallery running until November 24th. 
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