Unexpected Adjacencies: Curators Timothy Benson and Stephen Little on “Expressionism” and “Chinese Paintings”

July 3, 2014

It might not be immediately obvious, but two exhibitions currently on view at LACMA—one featuring Chinese paintings dating back to the seventh century and the other Expressionist works from the early 20th—share a number of themes. I sat down with curators Timothy Benson (Robert Gore Rifkind Center for German Expressionist Studies) and Stephen Little (Chinese and Korean Art) for a conversation about the ways in which these seemingly disparate exhibitions might share a story.

Liang Kai, China, The Poet Li Bai Chanting a Poem on a Stroll, Southern Song dynasty, 13th century, Hanging scroll; ink on paper, Tokyo National Museum, Important Cultural Property, image courtesy of TNM Image Archive

Liang Kai, China, The Poet Li Bai Chanting a Poem on a Stroll, Southern Song dynasty, 13th century, Hanging scroll; ink on paper, Tokyo National Museum, Important Cultural Property, image courtesy of TNM Image Archive

Paul Gauguin, Swineherd (detail), 1888, gift of Lucille Ellis Simon and family in honor of the museum's twenty-fifth anniversary

Paul Gauguin, Swineherd (detail), 1888, gift of Lucille Ellis
Simon and family in honor of the museum’s 25th anniversary

The fundamental relationship between the two exhibitions can be found, surprisingly, in the objects. The paintings featured in both presentations tell stories about the patterns of collecting and the connoisseurs who sought these artworks. In organizing their respective exhibitions, the two curators aimed to examine the role of the collector—a figure perhaps of equal importance as the artist with regard to determining taste—in aesthetic judgment.

Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky is based on the premise of “what one might call cultural transfer,” says Benson. In other words, the exchange of ideas between cultures. Both Benson and Little looked at the role of collectors, dealers, and museum curators, all major players in the transfer of art objects. In the 19th century, for instance, there was popular interest in “non-Western” objects, an influence that can be traced in Van Gogh’s work in the 1880s. Beyond Van Gogh, many German artists featured in Van Gogh to Kandinsky also looked to the East to learn more about Chinese philosophy and Buddhist practices, motifs of which can be observed in Chinese Paintings.

Attributed to Wang Wei (699–759), Fu Sheng Transmitting the Classic, China, Tang dynasty, 8th century, Important Cultural Property, Osaka City Museum of Fine Arts

Attributed to Wang Wei (699–759), Fu Sheng Transmitting the Classic, China, Tang dynasty, 8th century, Important Cultural Property, Osaka City Museum of Fine Arts

Perhaps the strongest similarity between the two presentations is showcased in how cultures are dependent on one another. Van Gogh to Kandinsky traces the relationship between French and German artists—one that is sometimes fraught with tension. German artists in the late 19th and early 20th centuries had what Benson termed as an essentialist identity. They saw themselves as a Nordic people interested in interiority in art practice. This differed with how they viewed artists in the south, such as France and the Mediterranean, who expressed verisimilitude and exteriority. Despite this contrast, German artists of the Brücke and the Blaue Reiter nevertheless absorbed French artistic aesthetics, appropriating it for their own practices.

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Reclining Nude in Front of Mirror, 1909–1910, Oil on canvas, Brücke‑Museum, Berlin © Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Courtesy Ingeborg & Dr. Wolfgang Henze-Ketterer, Wichtrach/Bern Photo © Brücke-Museum, Berlin.

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Reclining Nude in Front of Mirror, 1909–10, courtesy Ingeborg & Dr. Wolfgang Henze-Ketterer, Wichtrach/Bern Photo © Brücke-Museum, Berlin

The relationship between Japan and China, on the other hand, was based not on a contrasting view of each other, but deep respect. Little outlines the main differences between Chinese and Japanese painting styles: virtuosity in Chinese painting was judged on the execution of deliberate and clear line and symmetry, whereas Japanese aesthetics prized mystery and elusiveness. Elements of Chinese painting were nonetheless important for centuries to Japanese artists.

The two exhibitions point out the cultural dependence of Japan and Germany’s artistic production on Chinese and French art, respectively. Both exhibitions trace the nature of intercultural relationships and their profound effects on works of art produced.

Moving beyond the works of art themselves, there’s also a link to tradition in the way the exhibitions were designed and installed. The designers of Chinese Paintings worked with Little on their inventive installation. The fruits of the collaboration resulted in something that has a high-tech look, an appearance that seems anathema to the delicate scrolls mounted on silk on view in the exhibition. Coincidentally, however, the installation hinted at the tradition of how the scrolls were originally displayed, in tokonoma, or recessed spaces.

Installation view, Chinese Paintings from Japanese Collections, May 11–July 6, 2014, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, photo © 2014 Museum Associates/LACMA

Installation view, Chinese Paintings from Japanese Collections, May 11–July 6, 2014, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, photo © 2014 Museum Associates/LACMA

Van Gogh to Kandinsky, designed by guest architects Frederick Fisher and Partners, borrowed its dark walls from the spaces in which the paintings were originally hung. The notion of the sterile, white gallery/museum box was an invention of the 1960s—before that, sumptuous colors aided (or even influenced) the viewing experience. The blue bands that serve as the backdrop to a number of paintings do more than just provide a contrasting color to the deep dark found throughout the exhibition: the hue also marks the fact that a particular painting was also on view in Paris.

Installation view, Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky, June 8–September 14, 2014, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, photo © 2014 Museum Associates/LACMA

Installation view, Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky, June 8–September 14, 2014, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, photo © 2014 Museum Associates/LACMA

While on view on opposite ends of the Resnick Pavilion, Chinese Paintings from Japanese Collections and Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky do share distant relations. The exchange between cultures, the role of the collector, and even the conversation between Asia and Europe, can be traced in these presentations.

Isabel Frampton Wade, Communications Intern
Linda Theung, Editor, Communications


Artist in Focus: Max Pechstein, the Unknown Expressionist

July 2, 2014

When visiting the Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky exhibition, you will notice several striking paintings and prints by the German artist Max Pechstein (1881–1955). Although he may not be as well known today as some of the other Expressionist artists such as Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Emil Nolde, or Wassily Kandinsky, Pechstein nonetheless played a crucial role in the breakthrough of Expressionism. Many contemporaries, notably the art critic Paul Fechter, who published the first book on “Expressionism” in 1914, even considered Pechstein, the leading member of the Brücke group (much to the dismay of Kirchner). But what is particularly striking about Pechstein is his long and rich career and how it was forged through the dramatic events of the first half of the 20th century: he survived both World Wars and was held prisoner by the Japanese in 1914 and the Russians in 1945.

Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/ LACMA

Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/LACMA. Middle and right: Max Pechstein, Bathers (Badende), 1911, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts; The Big Indian (Der grosse Inder), 1910, Saint Louis Art Museum, both works © 2014 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / Pechstein Hamburg / Toekendorf / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn

Pechstein had quickly become famous in the years before World War I. He was the first Expressionist artist to join the venerable ranks of the Prussian Art Academy in Berlin, and he also obtained several state commissions during the Weimar Republic. When the Nazis rose to power, however, Pechstein was considered a “degenerate artist,” and his works were included in the Entartete Kunst (“Degenerate Art”) exhibition next to artworks by other modern artists such as Kandinsky, Paul Klee, and Kirchner.

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Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/LACMA. At left: Max Pechstein, Young Girl (Junges Mädchen), 1908, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Nationalgalerie. Acquired by the federal state of Berlin, © 2014 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / Pechstein Hamburg / Toekendorf / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn

Pechstein started his career as an apprentice decorator before enrolling at the Dresden School of Applied Arts, where he studied decorative and monumental painting. He then studied at the Dresden Academy of Fine Arts, where he received an academic training in drawing and painting. In 1906 he met Erich Heckel, who invited him to join the Brücke group, which had been founded in 1905 in Dresden by Heckel, Kirchner, Karl Schmidt-Rottluff, and Fritz Bleyl. In 1907 Pechstein was the recipient of the Rome Prize, which allowed him to travel to Italy. On his way back from Italy in late 1907, Pechstein went to Paris, where he stayed until mid-1908. During his sojourn in Paris, he saw exhibitions of Van Gogh’s works at galleries and visited the Salon d’Automne and the Salon des Indépendants, where works of the young French and international avant-garde were presented to the public. He also met the Dutch painter Kees van Dongen (a member of the Fauves), whom he invited to join the Brücke. Pechstein’s Young Girl, on view in the exhibition next to a painting by Van Dongen, testifies to his exposure to Post-Impressionism and Fauvism; he started to experiment with broad zone of colors painted in loose brushstrokes. Pechstein had mixed feelings, however, about his stay in Paris and went back to Germany to pursue his search for a unique visual language. But even back in Germany, Pechstein kept up with new developments in French art, acknowledging also the importance of German private and public collections for avant-garde art; he wrote later that year: “I once heard it said that in order to see . . . good French [art] one has to go to Germany.”

Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/ LACMA

Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/LACMA. At left: Max Pechstein, Woman on a Sofa (Frau auf dem Sofa), 1908, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Robert Gore Rifkind Center for German Expressionist Studies, © 2014 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / Pechstein Hamburg / Toekendorf / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn

In 1908 Pechstein moved to Berlin, and he was followed shortly by the other Brücke members. He started to present his paintings at the Berlin Secession. At the beginning of 1909 the Galerie Cassirer in Berlin organized a Matisse exhibition, hung by the artist himself. Pechstein, together with Kirchner and Schmidt-Rottluff, visited this show and were very much taken by the French artists, writing that Matisse was “at times very wild.” Starting in 1909, Pechstein frequently stayed in the fishing village of Nidden on the Baltic Coast. Drawn to the representation of untamed nature, he presented the Baltic Sea and the daily life of fishermen in bold, vivid colors, flattening the space, as can be seen in his Beach at Nidden, also on view in the exhibition.

In 1910 Pechstein was one of the founding members of the Neue Secession in Berlin, which was supposed to be a more open-minded exhibition platform than the Berlin Secession, which frequently rejected works by the avant-garde. In 1912, however, he decided to present his work again at the Berlin Secession, which led to a break with his Brücke colleagues and eventually his expulsion from the group.

Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/ LACMA

Installation view of Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (June 8–September 14, 2014), photo © Museum Associates/LACMA. At right: Max Pechstein, Still Life with Nude, Tile, and Fruit (Stillleben mit Akt, Kachel und Früchten), 1913, Collection Alfred and Ingrid Lenz Harrison, © 2014 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / Pechstein Hamburg / Toekendorf / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn

Still Life with Nude, Tile, and Fruit, another painting in the exhibition, shows how Pechstein abandoned Fauvism and started to experiment with angular forms inspired by Cézanne. This painting is also a testimony to Pechstein’s growing fascination with non-European civilizations, which was inspired notably by Paul Gauguin’s paintings from Tahiti. Pechstein and his wife, Lotte, travelled to the Palau islands in the South Pacific in 1914, a German colony at the time.  He described what he found there as an “earthly paradise,” and echoes of this trip can be found in his book Reisebilder (Travel pictures), published in 1919. Pechstein also frequently used motifs discovered on this journey in later works, which can be seen in the exhibition Visions of the South (read more about it here). With the outbreak of World War I in 1914, Pechstein was forced to leave the South Pacific—he returned to Germany through an adventurous detour, which brought him first to New York. In 1915 he enlisted in the German army and fought on the western front. After the war, Pechstein became more and more politically involved and was one of the cofounders of the “Novembergruppe” (November group) in 1918, a collective of left-oriented artists who campaigned for a renewal of the artistic milieu in Germany. But when the Nazis came to power, he soon became a victim of their repressive measures and was forbidden to paint or exhibit. After World War II, Pechstein’s major contribution to art in Germany was recognized, and his works were frequently shown. Despite this, his artistic importance remained overshadowed by that of his former Brücke colleagues and notably by Kirchner.

In Expressionism in Germany and France: From Van Gogh to Kandinsky you will see paintings and prints by Pechstein next to those by other Brücke artists and Fauves. You also will be able to discover the major role Pechstein played in the evolution of Expressionism, especially the transformative early years of his career in contact with French art—especially with Paul Cézanne, Paul Gauguin, and Henri Matisse.

And don’t forget to stroll through our permanent collection too and discover even more works by Pechstein in the Modern Art galleries. 

Frauke Josenhans, Curatorial Assistant, Robert Gore Rifkind Center for German Expressionist Studies

 

 

 

 


Searching for Continuity

June 30, 2014

It is hard not to be seduced by the 36 enigmatic photographs that make up John Divola’s Artificial Nature, currently on view as part of the exhibition John Divola: As Far as I Could Get, which closes this Sunday. Made by anonymous photographers working on the sets of films produced during the classical era of Hollywood movie making (roughly 1930–60), the photographs were generated by the millions—yet another industrial element of the so-called dream factory. Produced from 8 x 10 glass negatives, the direct contact prints feature a remarkable amount of detail and image clarity. Eerie and lifeless and packed with incidental information, they are arresting objects in their own right, worthy of close scrutiny.

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John Divola, Installation of the Continuity series Artificial Nature

Artificial Nature, first exhibited in 2002, is the most recent addition to Divola’s Continuity series, in which he appropriated set stills to create his own conceptual artworks. Beginning in the 1990s, he began to exhibit these production photographs mined from the vaults of the major Hollywood film studios. In a series of displays, he grouped them by theme, or genre type: hallways, stairs, mirrors, and “evidence of aggression”—the latter of which recorded the traces of violent activity in domestic settings, much like his own well-known photographs of vandalized abandoned homes.

Unidentified

John Divola, Evidence of Aggression (detail, 1 of 12), c. 1997, © John Divola

The original purpose of the set still was simple and utilitarian: to aid in the construction of seamless cinematic narratives, ensuring that the sets remained constant from take to take. A genre built around the static image—the very name connotes stillness—the set still seems to betray the logic of cinema. Such frozen images are anathema to the visual effect of “motion pictures.” It is this paradox, among others, that Divola interrogates in his Continuity works.

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John Divola, Artificial Nature (detail), 2002, 36 found gelatin silver prints from c. 1930–60; 8 × 10 each, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, purchased with funds provided by the Ralph M. Parsons Fund and the Photographic Arts Council, 2013

Artificial Nature is a collection of images documenting the fabricated landscapes contained within the artificial space of the film studio. Representing diverse natural topographies and weather patterns, many of the images also include a small clapperboard with the title of the film or the name of the scene scrawled on it. If the viewer is seduced by the illusion of the cinematic vista, this small detail, interjected into an otherwise convincing representation, insists on the artificiality of the scene.

Fascinated by the haunting quality of these images, and wanting to dig deeper, I borrowed a page from Edward Dimendberg, the author of an essay in the 1997 book about Divola’s Continuity series: I planned to hunt down the films for which these stills were originally produced. True to the archival spirit of Divola’s project, I decided I would watch whichever films I could find. It turns out that this was trickier than I had originally thought. Only three films are identified by name. This fact alone speaks to the ways in which the images—entirely removed from their original context—can assume a variety of different meanings, shaped only by what is depicted and what information is provided on the clapperboard, which is blunt and deliberately generic, e.g., “Mountain Stream,” “Woods.”

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John Divola, Artificial Nature (detail), 2002, 36 found gelatin silver prints from c. 1930–60; 8 × 10 each, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, purchased with funds provided by the Ralph M. Parsons Fund and the Photographic Arts Council, 2013

Of the three films identified in the images—As the Earth Turns (1934), Ice Palace (1960), and The Mudlark (1950)—Ice Palace is the only one appearing multiple times. So, with that numerical advantage noted, I managed to find a VHS version of the film (no small feat) and gave myself the assignment of watching it in order to identify some of the sets that feature in the continuity images selected by Divola.

The film is a schlocky melodrama with Richard Burton and Robert Ryan about romance and valor in Alaska in the years before its statehood. The plot is irrelevant here, beyond the fact that it explicitly engages with ideas about the conflict between nature and civilization, which are at the core of Divola’s reappropriation of the set stills.

I watched the film closely and endured what I could of the narrative in my attempt to find the sets that appear in the set stills. This was much harder that one might think; I might even be forced to admit failure. At times, I wondered if I was even watching the correct film.

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John Divola, Artificial Nature (detail), 2002, 36 found gelatin silver prints from c. 1930–60; 8 × 10 each, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, purchased with funds provided by the Ralph M. Parsons Fund and the Photographic Arts Council, 2013

The most startling discrepancy between the static images in Artificial Nature and moving images in Ice Palace is that the film was shot in Technicolor, with the bold, saturated hues of late 50s/early 60s Hollywood. It was hard not be distracted by the clash of the abstract, monochrome qualities of the gelatin silver set stills, which flatten much of the visual texture and period character of the sets, and the hyperrealistic effects of Technicolor. I kept wondering, which is the less convincing approximation of the physical world? The deadened set pieces shown in Artificial Nature or the garish tones of the film itself? Perhaps a New York Times review of the film from the time said it best, “It is as false and synthetic a screen saga as has rolled out of a color camera in years . . . no more authentic than cornstarch snow on a studio set.” That reviewer found the studio sets “particularly phony-looking,” and bemoaned that a film explicitly concerned with wild nature was “shot entirely in a studio.”

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John Divola, Artificial Nature (detail), 2002, 36 found gelatin silver prints from c. 1930–60; 8 × 10 each, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, purchased with funds provided by the Ralph M. Parsons Fund and the Photographic Arts Council, 2013

Divola might agree with that review. At its core, Artificial Nature questions the way that the physical world is increasingly experienced as a representation—something that we understand through layers of mediation. In selecting these objects for display, he highlights how we have inserted a deliberate distance between ourselves and the natural world, a distance that is only accentuated by cinematic representation. In this work, as in so many others by the artist, we are brought back to the status of the photographic image as both truth teller and talisman—simultaneously a document and a cipher. My flaccid attempt at deciphering the continuity stills served only to remind me of their opacity and unreliability as referents to actual things in the world. Divola, I’m certain, would have it no other way.

Ryan Linkof, Assistant Curator, Wallis Annenberg Photography Department


This Weekend at LACMA

June 27, 2014

On the last weekend of the month, visit LACMA for all new art, music, and film. Opening on Sunday to the general public, Treasures from Korea: Arts and Culture of the Joseon Dynasty, 1392–1910 presents over 150 works from Korea’s final and longest-ruling Confucian dynasty. Check out Korean national treasures never before seen in the U.S. and learn about how this 500 yearlong reign influenced modern Korean culture. Treasures from Korea is open to members first during Member Previews on Friday and Saturday.

Sun, Moon, and Five Peaks, 19th–early 20th century, National Palace Museum of Korea, Seoul, photo © National Palace Museum of Korea

Sun, Moon, and Five Peaks, 19th–early 20th century, National Palace Museum of Korea, Seoul, photo © National Palace Museum of Korea

Friday, Jazz at LACMA presents the pitch-perfect sounds of Sara Gazarek at 6 pm in front of Urban Light. In the Bing Theater, Spike Lee’s acclaimed 1989 comedy-drama Do the Right Thing screens at 8:30 pm with the director and crew in conversation. Tickets for this event are standby only. Earlier in the evening at 6 pm, the Inglewood Art+Film Lab opens its doors to the community with live music from the polyrhythmic Norwalk-based band Buyepongo and an outdoor film screening at 8:30 pm. Visit the Lab at the Inglewood Public Library through July 26.

Saturday, Jose Rizo’s Mongorama nine-piece Latin-jazz ensemble preserves old-school tunes with a fresh, modern take at Latin Sounds at 5 pm. Join free, docent-led tours throughout the day including a 20-minute look at the glowing sculpture of Helen Pashgian: Light Invisible (closing after Sunday) at 1 pm and and a full-length tour of European art at 3 pm.

Frederick Hammersley, Around a round, 1959, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, bequest of Fannie and Alan Leslie, © Frederick Hammersley Foundation

Frederick Hammersley, Around a round, 1959, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, bequest of Fannie and Alan Leslie, © Frederick Hammersley Foundation

Sunday, Andell Family Sundays explores LACMA’s collection of Egyptian art at 12:30 pm and later in the evening at 6 pm Sundays Live presents violinist Phillip Levy, violist Andrew Duckles, and cellist Jason Duckles in the Bing Theater. On its final day of display, Four Abstract Classicists features the pure abstractions of four Southern California painters, and in its final week Chinese Paintings from Japanese Collections shows some of the most precious paintings by Chinese artists held in Japanese collections; the exhibition features some works never before seen outside Japan. Finally, John Divola: As Far As I Could Get presents the work of the contemporary artist that merges photography, paintings, and conceptual art.

Roberto Ayala

 


Sound Art: Looking and Hearing at the LACMA9 Art+Film Lab

June 26, 2014

How is sound related to vision?

Last month, LACMA premiered a new workshop at the roaming Art+Film Lab that asked participants to do something radical. Montebello residents spent time looking and listening to a two-dimensional work of art from LACMA’s collection, making sense of the painting not just through sight, but using their ears as well. In just 45 short minutes, groups worked together to create spontaneous soundscapes that activated the paintings in new and extraordinary ways.

Laura Owens, Untitled, 1998, purchased with funds provided by the Marvin B. Meyer Family Endowment in memory of Nan Uhlmann Meyer, © Laura Owens

We transformed into sound designers for the class. To warm up, we looked at Laura’s Owen’s Untitled from 1998. The painting features a large, jewel-toned beehive swarming with insects at work. Participants were asked to pretend to step into the painting to take a look around them. Their imaginations ignited. We asked them to think about a few questions.

What kinds of sounds do you hear?

What is around you that you can’t see in the painting? Is it also making a noise?

How far away is the noise from you?

Immediate reactions were sweet. The younger ones used their teeth to create soft buzzing noises and pom-poms to mimic the sound of the grass swaying in the wind. Seconds later, screams rang out as some realized they were not wearing a protective bee suit, while others remained calm and flicked the table with their fingers to create the sound of the bees running into the hive, missing the entrance altogether.

Each group was asked to choose an artwork from LACMA’s collection for their soundscape. Some spent their time looking closely, examining every part of the artwork and scheming interesting narratives, while others huddled around the table covered with instruments and sound objects (rope, beads, empty boxes, pom poms, etc.) brainstorming sounds and how to best recreate them.

Groups reconvened in the lab and presented their soundscapes with explanations about the setting and the objects used to make the sounds. During one performance, a grandmother instructed her grandchildren to close their eyes and take in the sounds they developed together. “Does the painting move in your head now?” she asked. They nodded their heads.

Susan Felter, Jeff Barmby, Vallejo, 1978, printed 1983, gift of Sue and Albert Dorskind

When designing this workshop for LACMA9, we wanted to explore a kind of conceptual resonance between image and sound, to echo the work pioneered by audio collectors and designers like Michel Chion, and to try to put ourselves in the shoes of artists like Wassily Kandinsky who lived and painted with synesthesia, the neurological phenomenon that confuses and intertwines the body’s core senses. During the Sound Art workshop, we experiment with play while experiencing the artworks we feel connected to in a way that celebrates our imaginations and ability to work as a team.

Have you ever imagined what a painting might sound like?

Richard Misrach, T.V. Antenna, Salton Sea, California, 1985, printed 1996, Ralph M. Parsons Fund, © Richard Misrach

Give it try here. If you were inside of the photograph above, what would you hear? What kinds of noises and sounds would you include in a soundscape for this image?

What about the image inspires sound? Submit your responses in the comments!

Sound Art may be coming to your town. Check the links below for dates in Inglewood and Torrance.

Image Caption: Temperatures were over 100 degrees that day, so groups huddled under trees and tents to rehearse and record their soundscape. Educator: Fernando Cervantes

Temperatures were over 100 degrees that day, so groups huddled under trees and tents to rehearse and record their soundscape. Educator: Fernando Cervantes

Listen to the soundscape this group created for Jeff Barmby’s Vallejo.

Image Caption: Rehearsing our beehive piece with foley objects. Educator: Kate Marks

Rehearsing our beehive piece with foley objects. Educator: Kate Marks

Angela Hall, Education Coordinator


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