Photography –> Engagement?


I wrote a rather annoyed post against photographing works of art in museums. This was mainly a rant against cell-phone camera gaggles who cruise through the museum capturing blurred images of masterworks without really looking at them, not to mention getting in my way and seeming to miss the point of the museum: to look at art.

The blatant hypocrisy of this view, as I take photos in museums, is not lost on me, nor is the elitism of my quibbling justification that I really look at the art and try to be aware of the people around me.

To use my two exemplars for the last post, MoMA and Met have different photography policies. MoMA is quite good about letting it’s visitors take pictures without flash. The Met does not allow photography at all. The Met’s policy may be the best, as quite a few people at MoMA accidentally take flash photos. This could eventually harm the painting. Anyhow, photos of paintings are so unimpressive in quality compared to the original, it’s almost a waste of time to take one. (And did I mention the gaggles wielding camera phone?)

On the other hand, one of our compatriots here at Art Ravels suggested to me that they could be taking them to share with friends and relatives who will not have the opportunity to see them in person. To which I say, touche. Another commenter pointed out that he liked taking photos of installations and sculpture because he felt he was able to bring out different facets of the work. To which, again, I say touche.

Most interestingly, it was suggested that I look at Thomas Struth’s Museum Photographs, which document viewers reactions to art pieces. These well-behaved museum goers, even the children sitting on the floor, all seem to be looking at the paintings and not taking photos. But then again, all they ever do is stand their and stare. This got me thinking: more than a sign of visible approval, is taking a picture the one way a visitor can react when presented with an art object? Maybe people in museums should be able to do more, before the atmosphere turns into something as quiet, reverential, and ignored as the one below.


Art as it is most often presented is a take, not give, kind of thing. If you want to react to it, you end up removed to a different room miles away typing on a computer into a blog or some such tomfoolery. Perhaps photography is a sign of engagement. Do you think picture-taking is a way of responding to and interacting with the art?

Wouldn’t it be nice if there were more?

Against Taking Photos in Museums


People should not take photographs in museums. This is me doing a 180 degree revision of my opinion. I mean, I myself take them and show them to you here. I think to limit cultural distribution is silly and that to take a flashless pictures of something in a museum can do nil amount of harm. I now know differently.

I now know that it is a scandalous practice detrimental to museums. On visits to the Museum of Modern Art and the Metropolitan Museum of Art yesterday, I wasn’t overwhelmed by the crowds so much as blown away by the number of people who only looked at the art through a camera lens. Pause, click, pause, click they walked through the museum documenting their trip meanwhile getting in my way, accidentally taking a photograph with flash, and generally showing little interest in the the art. They were more oblivious to the people around them as they tried to get a good shot.

Really, should photographs be allowed in museums at all? Do you take photographs? Does photography interfere with your enjoyment of art?

Guggenheim as a Club


A two-for-one Friday night will satisfy your clubbing and art craves—or at least the Guggenheim Museum in NYC attempts to do so one Friday night a month. This past Friday there was blaring music, people dressed to the nines, and The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia. How could this great combination go wrong?

  • By being a well-lit, lame music club experience with only sporadic fits of dancing
  • By displaying an underwhelming exhibition

The crowded atrium was filled with people pushing to get to the round bar in the center, a space that should have been left open for dancing. It was as bright as day, which hardly lowers people’s dancing exhibition. In addition, the Guggenheim, unlike the Museum of Natural History, didn’t hire a good DJ. Pure 80s cheese could have topped their mediocre mix and been much more fun. That said, there were drinks and not a few people were inspired to bust a move from time to time. It had the potential to be a great party but couldn’t live up to it.


Many of the pieces in the Chinese-influences on American Modernism show required more thought than the drinks inspired. The opening piece when you first ascend the ramp is stunning, a huge room of gold flaky paint called The Death of James Lee Byars. Continuing on, Minimalist canvases of white and stripes required a more subdued attention. I would have appreciated more information on the selected works, and the connection to Asian art.

Despite being one of many museums in New York City that offer late Friday nights, with drinks and dancing, the Guggenheim still has no problem filling Wright’s impressive interior spiral, and the mix of people (and outfits!) was a joy to behold. On the other hand, for $25 dollars you could go to a real club. For nothing, you can go to most major New York City museums, as they have sponsored free or pay-what-you-wish Friday nights.

Am I glad I went? Yes. Would I go again? No, not without a specific reason.