August 1, 2002
Issue No. 76
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© 2002, Charles Giuliano

Boston’s MFA Broadens Horizons of Contemporary Art

Jasper Johns to Jeff Koons: Four Decades of Art from the Broad Collections 

Boston Museum of Fine Arts

July 28 through October 20

Catalogue: 224 Pages, Curated by Stephanie Barron and Lynn Zelevansky, with essays by Thomas Crow, Sabine Eckmann, Joanne Heyler, and Pepe Karmel

Artists: John Baldessari, Stephan Balkenhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Eric Fischl, Jasper Johns, Anselm Kiefer, Jeff Koons, Roy Lichtenstein, Charles Ray, Susan Rothenberg, Ed Ruscha, David Salle, Julian Schnabel, Cindy Sherman, Robert Therrien, Cy Twombley and Andy Warhol.

The irony of this exhibition of 81 works by 17 artists from the collection of Eli and Edythe Broad at the Museum of Fine Arts through October 20, is an epic example of either spilled milk and lost opportunity, or a desperate wish list and hope for the future.  

Of all the major American museums, the MFA is the most conspicuous example of missing the boat on the art of the 20th century. It did not commit to forming a modern and contemporary collection until 1971 with the appointment of a formalist curator, Kenworth Moffett. Some 31 years and five curators later, the collection has great strength in Morris Louis and Color Field painting, and is pretty much hit and miss in every other major category. Even in the area of formalist abstraction there are tales of what might have been. Moffett snared Jackson Pollock’s masterpiece, "Lavender Mist," only to have it rejected by the MFA’s ridiculously stupid acquisitions committee.

The tales of ignorance and lost opportunity are legion. But, under the current director, Malcolm Rogers, and his curator, Cheryl Brutvan, the MFA hopes to make up for lost opportunity, big time.

While it will never fill in the gaps of 20th century art, it hopes to move aggressively into the new millennium. A good portion of the space being designed by Lord Norman Foster for an enormous expansion will be devoted to the display and collection of contemporary art.

As this exhibition aptly demonstrates the MFA will have to think big. The selection of works from the Broad collection look cramped and crowded in the Gund special exhibition galleries which seem more suited to Impressionist paintings and Chinese porcelains. There is an Alice in Wonderland
feeling to Robert Therrien’s Under the Table, which at 117 x 312 x 216" dwarfs the gallery in which it is displayed. In a rather unpleasant and claustrophobic way. Similarly, the huge Balloon Dog by Jeff Koons is just in your face in the lobby. Put that dog on a leash. Please. Or just prick and let the air out of the balloons.

Well, give Malcolm credit for trying. Perhaps a bit too hard. To hammer the point home, while this is up, there is a companion show, Building a Collection: Recent Acquisitions of Contemporary Art, in the Foster Galleries, and in the Rabb Gallery, Robert Rauschenberg: Recent Works, both up
through August 18. It would appear that the MFA is fishing for a gift from Rauschenberg which was the case in similar displays of "recent work" by David Hockney, Roy Lichtenstein, May Stevens, and Susan Rothenberg. Come on Bob. Pony up. And, of course, one would assume that when the newly expanded and renovated museum opens some years down the line, the Broads will remember and be generous. That could make up for a lot of lost time and missed opportunity. Like how Peggy Guggenheim slipped off the hook as told to me by one who was there but will deny the tale.

The collection of the Broads, their own personal holdings as well as that of their foundation, is described as including a thousand works by 150 artists. It is discussed as growing at the rate of some 35 acquisition annually. And they are noted, as demonstrated in this selection, for buying in depth.

There are basically two kinds of collectors. Those known for having a great eye, and adventurous taste, an ability to select great artists and works well in advance of the mainstream of critical acclaim. And, collectors with deep pockets. Based on this selection the Broads appear to be more rich than insightful. But, that is not entirely fair as one would have to consider all of the works and artists in the collection. This sample, however, has few surprises and fewer insights and revelations.

Touring the exhibition is rather like flipping through back issues of Art in America or auction catalogues. Walking through the show, with an adding machine as well as a pair of eyes, you can total up the net worth of their assets. Big bucks. But surprisingly few masterpieces.

It was just a quick march through, a look at the trinkets in the exhibition shop, then on to the snack bar for an overpriced salad. No heavy lifting or thinking here.

But, significantly, this was not the reaction of the Boston media and public. They were shocked. Can you believe it. Shocked. Yes, actually shocked and dismayed by what was on display. The first string critic for the paper of record admitted being unfamiliar with Charles Ray, but promised
to be more attentive in the future, and blew off Jean-Michel Basquiat, whose, Untiled (Skull), 1981, is one of the very best works, by an inconsistent artist, who may well have been the greatest and most original painter of his generation.

And in an interesting flip flop said critic lapped up quotes from the very quotable Jeff Koons in one feature article. Then blew him away in a huff in her, "review." Last night, on WGBH TV, (PBS) I watched in horror as Emily Rooney, daughter of Andy, and a usually intelligent host of Greater Boston, attempted to goad and bait two guests, gallerist, Howard Yezerski, and curator Jessica Morgan of the ICA. She made really stupid veiled allusions to "scribbles," a reference to the widely respected painter, Cy Twombley, and the eye popping, giggle giggle, scale of the male genitals in a
nude sculpture by Ray. Tactfully, the two guests elected not to respond to such loaded remarks. They let her off easy.

But that’s Boston and, after a century of burying its head in the sand of contemporary art, just what can you expect. Perhaps we deserve no better than such provincial media.

The Broad exhibition has been designed as a kind of blue chip overview of contemporary art. It is more about money and equity than taste and criticism. It has long been obvious that the collectors are the true arbiters of contemporary art. Bottom line it is what they buy that counts. They are the market and taste makers.

Another strong feeling in this exhibition is the importance of icons. Both the artists that create them and the collectors that acquire them. This exhibition includes some vivid examples of that issue.

Start with White Flag, 1960, or Flag, 1967, by Johns. Now there are icons, on every level. They are great and enduring icons and the centerpiece of some seven works by the artist. Similarly, Wahol’s, Two Marilyns, 1962, and, Elvis, 1963 that seem so well to define an era. More and more, Warhol emerges as the most powerful of all the pop artists. He made more than his share of bad and marginal work, but when Andy was on, nobody hit it better. He had an incredible graphic sensibility. Johns was more consistent, and overall, may be more important, but in individual works, nobody beats Andy.

Which bring us to Lichtenstein, one of the favorite artists of the collectors. The more I see of Lichtenstein the less I like the works. They lack color and design. They seem overly illustrative and anecdotal. Most of all they are not sensual or seductive as painting. They seem just flat and enervating. It is like hearing the same stand up comedy routine more than two times. Some artists have their moment and then fade. That is also evident in this show in the works by Salle, Fischl, and Schnabel. This show represents these artists with some of their weakest works.

The most adventurous selections in this exhibition are artists who have always played better on their native West Coast, Ruscha and Baldessari. Boston has rarely seen these artists in depth and certainly not in this elite company. And Charles Ray. It was exciting to finally catch up with the heroic scaled woman in a power red suit with pleated skirt, Fall ’91. It is a famous work by Ray that I had known only in reproduction.

In addition to Americans the Broads collect the Germans. There were not particularly great examples of Kiefer and typical Balkenhols. The Busch Reisinger Museum in Cambridge is currently showing a powerful selection of smaller scaled photo and lead works by Kiefer from the Broad collection. It just seems that there are better Kiefer paintings than the three enormous works in this exhibition.

There are a lot of photos by Cindy Sherman, which is predictable given her importance and popularity. Again, while she is well represented, anyone who has followed contemporary art will be familiar with this body of work.

So let’s end this with Koons. Like Andy, when Jeff is on there is no one better. It is always a delight to see the early vacuum cleaners, and flotation tanks. His silver, Rabbit, 1986, deserves to be on the cover of the catalogue. I still vividly recall the shock and delight of first encountering it in the Whitney Biennial. And this was my first time actually viewing the much discussed, Michael Jackson and Bubbles, 1988, what a sad and powerful masterpiece. But then Koons seems not to know the limits. How easily he slides from genius and inspiration to excess. Of course, his justification is kitsch and popular culture, but works like, Cat on a Clothesline, 1994-2001, are just bad. It’s kind of the old Charlie Tuna question. What’s the difference between Tuna with Taste
and Tuna that Tastes Good?

I’ll just leave you with that thought.

Y’All Come Back