Private collection, courtesy of Francis M. Naumann Fine Art
“Inventing Marcel Duchamp: The Dynamics of Portraiture” opens this Friday, March 27, at the National Portrait Gallery. The exhibition casts new light upon Marcel Duchamp (1887–1968), one of the most influential artists of the recent past. Showcasing approximately 100 never-before-assembled portraits and self-portraits of Duchamp, the show demonstrates that the artist harnessed the power of portraiture and self-portraiture both to secure his reputation as an iconoclast and to establish himself as a major figure in the art world.
The exhibition includes works by his contemporaries Man Ray, Alfred Stieglitz, Francis Picabia, and Florine Stettheimer, as well as portraits by a more recent generation of artists, such as Andy Warhol, Jasper Johns, Sturtevant, Yasumasa Morimura, David Hammons, Beatrice Wood, and Douglas Gordon. “Inventing Marcel Duchamp: The Dynamics of Portraiture” closes on August 2, 2009.
In this blog post, we focus on one of the works featured in the exhibition: Portrait multiple de Marcel Duchamp (Five-Way Portrait of Marcel Duchamp) (above). Throughout a lengthy career that spanned much of the twentieth century, Marcel Duchamp recast accepted modes for assembling and describing identity. In 1917, having recently arrived in the United States, he found special significance in a mechanically produced photo-postcard that depicted him simultaneously from five different vantage points. The five-way picture, made by sitting in front of a hinged mirror, had gained popularity by the late nineteenth century and was commonly found in photography studios and at amusement parks. Produced in editions of three, the portrait could be shared with friends.
The Five-Way Portrait of Marcel Duchamp suggests the artist’s early recognition of the multifarious nature of personal identity, something he would continue to explore throughout his career. Fascinated with the way portraits shape identity, Duchamp exploited the genre, often turning conventional codes for portrayal on their head.
For Duchamp, postcards were more than a novelty. By integrating the multiple portrait into his larger body of work, Duchamp transformed a mechanical picture, made by an anonymous camera operator, into a self-portrait that embodied his view of identity as fractured and unstable. It prefigures his creation of various alter egos, such as Rrose Sélavy. The picture was made on June 21, 1917, at the Broadway Photo Studio at the same time that Duchamp was photographed with his friends Francis Picabia and Beatrice Wood.
Listen to James McManus, co-curator of the exhibition, discuss Five-Way Portrait of Marcel Duchamp (1:46)
Portrait multiple de Marcel Duchamp (Five-Way Portrait of Marcel Duchamp) / Unidentified photographer / Gelatin silver print, 1917 / Private collection, courtesy of Francis M. Naumann Fine Art
The National Portrait Gallery's exhibition “Ballyhoo! Posters as Portraiture” is closing soon, so see it while you can—its final day is this Sunday, February 8. The exhibition features sixty posters ranging in date from the late nineteenth century to the present, including subjects as diverse as General John J. Pershing, “Buffalo Bill” Cody, Joe Louis, Judy Garland, Dorothy Dandridge (below right), aviator Jimmy Doolittle, and labor leader Lane Kirkland.
In this blog post, the NPG’s Warren Perry talks with Wendy Wick Reaves, who reflects on the exhibition. Reaves is the curator of prints and drawings at the National Portrait Gallery.
WWR: Technically for a curator, when the exhibition is up on the walls, our job is done, and we’re really supposed to be putting our attention to the next show. But in fact, you end up doing VIP tours and special-interest tours—you talk to the press, you talk to your docents, you do a couple of public gallery talks—and during all of this you’re getting feedback. And that’s kind of interesting to reflect on towards the end of a run for a show.
For this exhibition, for instance, I found that every visitor brought his or her own experiences and ideas to a poster show. Everyone understands posters—as advertising, as propaganda sometimes, as promotion. And they often know elements of that historical moment that you don’t know. I learned a lot from my visitors’ comments, memories, and perspectives. They corrected my labels, as a matter of fact, and changed my thinking.
And it’s been fun. I remember at the press preview, when I was talking about Admiral Bull Halsey (left), who is quoted on the poster with the phrases, “Hit hard, hit fast, hit often,” and one of the reporters snorted out, “Yeah, but he would have said it in much more colorful language.” And in one of my tours, when I was talking about the Pete Sampras milk-moustache poster (below) as the anti-glamour campaign that reflected the familiarity and intimacy we felt about celebrity figures by the 1990s—I made the mistake of saying, “He could be anyone in your family on the way to the shower.” Three slightly older ladies immediately and simultaneously responded, “Not in my family!”
Posters are often considered popular culture artifacts. And although that can be hard to define precisely, it basically means to me objects that have a broad appeal, are accessible to a mainstream audience, grow out of a shared vernacular culture, are frequently reinforced by mass media, and are sometimes mass produced and widely available.
And I found that they differ from the fine art objects that we also collect and exhibit. The response and reception is sometimes different, both internally and externally. Some people question whether this material really is art, or history, or culture, or portraiture. So sometimes there are prejudices. Will your show be covered by the press? And if it is, will they treat it like just mass entertainment? Or will they really cover the broader perspective that you’ve tried to outline?
But there are also a lot of compensations about a show that is basically popular culture artifacts. New audiences, certainly, are another great benefit. In my case, I got design students of all kinds—illustrators, advertisers, a world of people laboring in graphic communication. Also, the general audience appeal was multigenerational. The World War II generation reminisced about Halsey. So did their kids, who once owned the iconic Dylan poster. Even their children felt a connection to rock, film, and sports advertising—like the poster of Lance Armstrong—and even appreciated those elements from previous eras.
Everyone I spoke to enjoyed seeing what could be extracted about history, art, design, and cultural trends, from the modest poster. I guess what I found most rewarding, in retrospect, was understanding how popular cultural artifacts give telling glimpses of historical moments—shared generational presumptions; prejudices; ideals of beauty; standards of manliness; attitudes about race, gender, and sexual difference—it’s really like having a little window into a moment in history.
WP: You are the curator who began assembling this collection. How long have you been assembling this collection for NPG?
WWR: I guess I’ve been collecting posters for about twenty-five years now. We’ve gotten some wonderful gifts along the line. I’ve worked with a number of dealers who were passionate about posters—and really wanted to help build the collection here at the Portrait Gallery—and were very generous with trying to train me and my eye and find the kinds of things we would use here. We are looking for something with a fair amount of wall power. And we’re looking for, of course, the portrait subject as well.
WP: I know it’s a little like asking a mom if she has a favorite child, but you have to tell us—do you have a favorite in the lot of posters?
WWR: Oh, that is really a difficult question to answer. I guess the answer is that I have a lot of favorites. I’ve always liked the Rita Hayworth poster (above). I think the John Wilkes Booth Civil War broadside (right), advertising for the capture of Booth after Lincoln’s assassination, is one of my favorites. It worked as such a perfect introduction of what poster art is about. It can also be called a Civil War broadside; some people wouldn’t even consider is a poster. But for me, it worked perfectly—that combination of words and typography, with visual images, and that quality of sensationalism that you often get in a poster.
Listen to the entire discussion with curator Wendy Wick Reaves (8:38)
For more on posters visit the online exhibition for “Ballyhoo! Posters As Portraiture” and view the audio slideshow below, narrated by Wendy Wick Reaves, who curated the exhibition.
Victory Begins at Home / Admiral William F. Halsey Jr. / Unidentified artist for Industrial Incentive Division, Navy Department, c. 1940 / National Portrait Gallery; gift of Leslie, Judith, and Gabri Schreyer and Alice Schreyer Batko
Trinidad / Rita Hayworth, Glenn Ford / Anselmo Ballester, 1953 / Color photolithographic halftone poster/ National Portrait Gallery
$100,000 Reward / John H. Surratt, John Wilkes Booth, David E. Herold / Unidentified artist, 1865 / Printed broadside with albumen silver prints / National Portrait Gallery
The vice presidency—a heartbeat away from what has been called the most powerful job in the world—has often been a subject of ridicule and dismissal rather than serious analysis. “Presidents in Waiting” takes a different viewpoint, emphasizing the importance of that office. It focuses on the fourteen vice presidents—almost one-third of our forty-three chief executives—who succeeded to the presidency, either upon the death of a sitting president, election in their own right, or (in one case), the resignation of a president.
“Presidents in Waiting” also offers interviews, conducted especially
for this exhibition, in which the former vice presidents discuss their
role and their relationship with the president. The exhibition is on view at National Portrait Gallery until January 3, 2010.
The framers of the Constitution believed that the vice presidency was significant enough to be occupied by a national figure—the runner-up in the presidential election. The Constitution, written before political parties emerged, specified that the candidate with the second-highest number of votes in the Electoral College would become vice president.
When political parties evolved during the 1790s, a change in procedure eventually became necessary because the candidate who came in second would belong to a different political party from that of the president-elect, as happened when Thomas Jefferson (above) became John Adams’s vice president in 1797. More complications during the election of 1800 resulted in the Twelfth Amendment being added to the Constitution in 1804, which had the electors voting separately for president and vice president.
A different public and private perception of the vice presidency quickly formed. The country’s first vice president, John Adams, called it “the most insignificant office”; Daniel Webster, who declined it, envisioned the office as a kind of premature burial; Franklin Roosevelt’s two-term vice president, John Nance Garner, said it was “not worth a warm bucket of spit”; and Lyndon Johnson noted that, notwithstanding the inherent pomp and ceremony, “in the end, it is nothing. I detested every minute of it.”
But a closer look at those who served or sought the office offers still another perspective. John Adams (right) was the second most popular man in the United States when he became vice president, and he took pride that his office was “beneath” only that of the president. Thomas Jefferson, whose fame was eclipsed only by Benjamin Franklin and George Washington, was the country’s second vice president. In 1824 and 1828, John C. Calhoun, who had been a powerful voice in Congress and James Monroe’s secretary of war, served as vice president under both John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson. Martin Van Buren, who largely created the modern Democratic Party as a vehicle for Andrew Jackson’s election, correctly saw the office as his route to the presidency. With the exceptions of John Tyler and Andrew Johnson, other nineteenth-century vice presidents who succeeded to the presidency, Millard Fillmore and Chester Arthur, served out their terms with competence, if not distinction.
As the United States emerged as a world power in the twentieth century, more powerful and influential men sought the vice presidential office. In 1900 Theodore Roosevelt was elected vice president, and in 1912, the nation’s best-known reform governor, Hiram Johnson of California, sought the office on Roosevelt’s Progressive Party ticket. In 1920, Franklin Roosevelt entered national politics by running unsuccessfully as vice president. John Nance Garner, a powerful congressional leader and Speaker of the House, traded in his position to become FDR’s vice president for two terms.
After World War II, the vice presidency underwent a further evolution. The development of the atomic bomb and the intercontinental missile brought an unprecedented urgency to issues of national security and the role of the vice president. In the mid-1950s, Sam Rayburn, the powerful Speaker of the House of Representatives, emphasized the importance of the president’s choice of a running-mate: “In these thermonuclear times you must select a man, one, that is the best for your country, two, that you trust so much that he would be the trustee for your wife and children when you die.”
Rising political stars of both parties sought the office, and in 1952 an ambitious young California senator, Richard Nixon, became Dwight Eisenhower’s vice president (above). Some presidential scholars point to Nixon as the first of the modern powerful and influential vice presidents. Although Nixon was not in the president’s inner circle, Eisenhower still delegated important tasks to him and kept him in the loop about national security issues.
Not all vice presidents who followed Nixon were given that much responsibility; however, the office attracted serious contenders, including Estes Kefauver, Lyndon Johnson (right), Edwin Muskie, Gerald Ford, Walter Mondale, Robert Dole, George H. W. Bush, Al Gore, and Dick Cheney. All were willing to give up powerful positions to be vice president, and—with the exception of Cheney—to increase their chances to eventually become president. Dan Quayle, senator from Indiana and George H. W. Bush’s vice president, later wrote, “almost every Senator wants it [the vice presidential office], even those who publicly express reluctance to be considered.” The vice presidency “remains the most likely route to the presidency, and the idea that ambitious politicians scorn the office is a myth.” They turn it down “only if they know it won’t be offered.”
“Presidents in Waiting” moves our ideas about the vice presidency closer to those of the framers of the Constitution, takes note of the changes the office has undergone, and provides us with a better understanding of both the office and the individuals who have served in it.
The curators of the exhibition are Sidney Hart, senior historian, and
James G. Barber, historian. The exhibition was made possible by Ford
Motor Company Fund. Be sure to see the online exhibition for more information, including video interviews with former vice presidents.
This column is part of an occasional series in which Washington-area university students discuss works on display in the National Portrait Gallery.
This blog post is written by Jamielyn Smith, a graphic design student at George Mason University. She writes about this 1970 poster of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix. The poster is on display in the National Portrait Gallery’s exhibition “Ballyhoo! Posters as Portraiture,” on the museum’s second floor.
Smith’s article is reprinted here, with her permission—it was originally published in Writing for Designers, the class blog of GMU’s graphic design course AVT 395-4. Writing for Designers covers many topics in graphic design, and includes more student-written articles about the “Ballyhoo!” exhibition.
You might think that a poster featuring Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, two of the most recognizable 1960s rock icons, would include the flamboyant colors and embellishments associated with their music. There is, however, absolutely nothing psychedelic about the L&S Productions poster entitled Winner? Created in 1970, the year Hendrix and Joplin both died of overdoses at the age of twenty-seven, Winner? presents a critical look at the drug-filled lifestyles led by these rock legends. As part of the National Portrait Gallery’s “Ballyhoo! Posters as Portraiture” exhibition, this piece displays its message with a fairly basic graphic palette of three colors, three photographs, and one word repeated twice.
Located on the back wall of the show room, Winner? stands out due to its simple, effective design. Contained within a red and yellow elliptical pill shape are photographs of Joplin and Hendrix. Both musicians are performing, their eyes closed and faces half covered. A sharply focused photograph of Joplin fills the red, top half of the composition, with the word “Winner?” centered underneath her image. An upside-down, softly focused photo of Hendrix appears underneath, on the yellow, bottom half of the pill—the word “Winner?” is also upside down and placed with his image.
The orientation of the photographs allows the poster to be flipped, while maintaining its imagery and purpose. The clever presentation symbolizes how easy it is to go from the top to the bottom. The careers of Hendrix and Joplin were at an all-time high in 1970, but everything ended in an instant because of their addictions. Along with the passing of Jim Morrison, their deaths helped bring the potential downside of drug use to the public’s attention. Furthermore, the elliptical shape means that the pill could continue to flip, representing the continuous cycle of drug abuse.
The restricted color palette and simplicity set this piece apart from the other posters in the exhibition, particularly the ones that also depict musicians and iconography from the 1960s. Posters from this era are usually colorful and saturated with surreal imagery, optical illusions, and kaleidoscopic swirling patterns. This complete lack of white space makes the viewer feel overwhelmed with imagery. They also feature hard to read, warped, organic typography. Therefore, it is especially shocking to see the king and queen of stoner rock in such an austere context.
Although this poster was created almost forty years ago, the message it communicates is still relevant today. The poster’s clean design references the 1960s in a subtle way that makes it appealing to contemporary viewers. Likewise, Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix continue to inspire modern audiences with their music. There is no question that Winner? is timeless.
This column begins an occasional series in which Washington-area university students discuss works on display in the National Portrait Gallery.
This article is written by Abbey Stickney, a graphic design student at George Mason University. She writes about this 1893 poster of performer Loïe Fuller by French artist Jules Chéret. The poster is on display in the National Portrait Gallery’s exhibition “Ballyhoo! Posters as Portraiture,” on the museum’s second floor.
Stickney’s article is reprinted here, with her permission—it was originally published in Writing for Designers, the class blog of GMU’s graphic design course AVT 395-4. Writing for Designers covers many topics in graphic design, and includes more student-written articles about the “Ballyhoo!” exhibition.
As a graphic designer, I found the “Ballyhoo! Posters as Portraiture” exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery very worthwhile. It gave credibility to design as an art form, as the show was surrounded by the elaborate oil paintings of famous musicians, presidents, and just plain wealthy people. To have posters displayed in such close proximity to these wonderful works of art makes the general public really look at design, possibly for the first time. It makes these people notice the composition, the color choices, and the mood of the piece as they would a painting by Rembrandt.
Among the vast array of posters on display, one in particular grabbed my attention. Maybe it was the simplicity of the composition, or maybe it was the woman herself. The poster was a celebration of life and color set against the black background of a stage curtain. The wild red hair of the pale woman was thrown back, and she was draped in a sheer golden gown. One of her legs was kicked up, and she appeared to be suspended in the air with her dress floating in circles around her, as if she has just completed a spin in the air and is now returning to earth.
The woman’s name was Loïe Fuller, and she was an American performer who was quite popular in Paris around the turn of the century. Fuller was a master showman who pioneered the use of colored stage lighting and used enormous silk costumes to exaggerate her movements on stage. She characterizes the art nouveau movement, as her flowing costumes appeared on stage like flowers and other objects found in nature. Fuller was also the first person to bring modern dance to Europe and present it as a true art form.
I feel this poster has captured the essence of Fuller’s performances. She appears here free and full of life, just like her performances were, I would imagine. You can even faintly see the colored stage lighting in the background. The only text on the poster is the name of the performer, La Loïe Fuller (at the top), and the place where she will be performing, the Folies-Bergère (at the bottom), a Paris opera house where nudity was not uncommon. The text type is red and has an organic feel to it that coordinates well with the image. With its rough, cut-out look, it appears to be handmade.
I think that it is very appropriate that this poster show was in a portrait gallery. Posters give the viewer more information than other portraits do: they tell the viewer not only about the person or people shown, but about the time in which the poster was created, the poster’s intended audience, and even the location in which the poster was to be displayed. This proves that not only are posters—and consequently graphic design as a whole—art, they are a seamless balancing act between both giving the viewer information and giving the viewer something that he or she wants to stop and look at. That is what good design does.
As “RECOGNIZE! Hip Hop and Contemporary Portraiture” draws to a close, we take a moment to reflect on the exhibition’s impact on the community. See the exhibition while you can; its last day is this Sunday, October 26.
It was the National Portrait Gallery's honor to be the first Smithsonian Institution museum to stage a significant exhibition with hip hop as its theme. Through visitor counts, positive comment cards, and the enthusiasm about the show witnessed daily in the galleries and in our conversations with friends and colleagues around town and around the nation, we are thrilled with the public’s positive response.
“RECOGNIZE!“ gave the National Portrait Gallery the opportunity to recognize hip hop’s important role in American life today, as it influences the fine arts as well as other elements of our visual culture from advertising to fashion to video games. It was important for us to give our visitors a sense that hip hop is more powerful and has more of an impact on our world than the media’s attention to its negative aspects might suggest.
Through hip hop happy hours, films, and family activities, to programs headlined by Nikki Giovanni and Paul “DJ Spooky” Miller, NPG attempted to maintain the spirit and enthusiasm of the exhibition through events geared to a broad public. “RECOGNIZE!” brought more diverse and younger audiences into the Gallery, many of whom visited for the first time.
Another special aspect of this exhibition was our ability to feature the work of local artists Tim “Con” Conlon, Dave “Arek” Hupp, Jefferson Pinder, and Baltimore-born Shinique Smith (right). It is sometimes difficult to give local artists the support so many of them deserve, but “RECOGNIZE!” enabled us to feature “D.C. flavor.”
As a national museum that is a destination for Americans from all parts of the country, as well as for international visitors, the Portrait Gallery was pleased with the opportunity this exhibition afforded to reflect our role as a local museum for residents of the greater Washington, D.C. metropolitan area.
Kehinde Wiley’s portraits of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five and L.L. Cool J (left) will remain at the museum on extended loan, reminding us of hip hop music’s relevance to American culture, and keeping “RECOGNIZE! Hip Hop and Contemporary Portraiture” fresh in our memories. We look forward to seeing more hip hop–related displays and activities develop Smithsonian-wide, particularly associated with the National Museum of American History’s Hip Hop Collecting Initiative.
To all who visited the exhibition or one of the programs associated with it, we hope you will come back to NPG soon and often. There will always be something for each of you at the National Portrait Gallery.
CON/Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, 2007/Montana spray paint on Sintra panel/182.9 x 609.6 cm (72 x 240 in)/Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp
No Thief to Blame/Shinique Smith, 2007-08/Mixed media installation (fabric, cardboard, carpet, paper, ink, spray paint, used clothing, found objects, and collage)
The National Portrait Gallery’s “RECOGNIZE! Hip Hop and Contemporary Portraiture” is closing soon, so be sure to see the exhibition before Sunday, October 26, its final day. The exhibition features six artists: photographer David Scheinbaum, painter Kehinde Wiley, poet Nikki Giovanni, installation artist Shinique Smith, video artist Jefferson Pinder, and graffiti artists Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp.
In this blog post, we focus on Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, local graffiti artists who created four large murals that line the exhibition’s main hallway. These panels, with their sophisticated lettering style and color combinations, transformed the gallery space, bringing the beats and energy of hip hop to the museum’s walls.
Using the tags “CON” and “AREK,” Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp began writing together in 2000. Conlon brought a flair for figures to their collaborations, and Hupp excelled at quick, complex lettering. Since graffiti is performed without a public audience, a writer’s pseudonym, or “tag,” is the face he presents to the world—his self-portrait. In their artist statement, Hupp and Conlon write that graffiti is “a lifestyle, an addiction, a dysfunctional marriage of secrecy and fame, for better and for worse. Some see it as an insatiable appetite for destruction, but through this abstracted topography we find our creative vision and achieve our self-expression.”
In January of 2007, before the opening of “RECOGNIZE!” NPG web developer Benjamin Bloom sat down with Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, and asked them a few questions. You can listen to the complete interview, and see their graffiti murals here.
BB: What makes your style your own, or differentiates it from other people?
TC (shown on right): I think, just of course, the letters—the name that you choose that’s going to separate you from anyone else. I guess style-wise, my style pretty much reflects mostly New York straight-letter style, or straight-letter wild-style. You know something that’s bar-letters, very readable, you can tell what it says—probably has a little Baltimore influence to it.
And there is some West Coast stuff that I’ve added to it, when I lived out in L.A. for a while. Some little tidbits and painting techniques I do, that I remember from out there. I’d say it’s pretty generic, but I’ve painted enough over the years so that people recognize it. Even if they just glance at it, they probably know it’s me before they read the letters. Same probably goes for Dave too.
DH (left): It’s just changed over the years. I don’t do a lot of connections. A lot of single-letter, bar-style—I want it to be readable. When it flies by I want Joe truck driver to be able to read it. You know, the average person. I don’t want it to be some wild crazy stuff that you can’t read. So usually each letter is separate. There maybe some simple connections, but just real bold bar-style letters.
I’m from Baltimore, so it’s got a Baltimore flair. But it’s got a lot of influence from a variety of people I hang with and know. I get influence from a lot of different things, and a lot of different people from all over.
BB: How do you feel about graffiti being in a museum?
DH: Well I’m glad to be alive and be in the Smithsonian. Because I guess not too long ago, you had to be dead to be in the Portrait Gallery, right?
BB: That’s true.
DH: So to be alive and be in it is good! It’s a sign of the times. Some people may say “hey you’re a sell-out.” I look at it like being a musician, and never making an album or putting a CD out. Why are you strumming on that guitar for twenty years, if you can’t make a buck, or be seen, or be heard? And this is a way to be seen and be heard. This is huge—I guess when I walk down that marble floor and through the pillars and see these huge panels affixed to the wall, I’ll be like “damn, that’s our stuff.”
For more on Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, view the audio slideshow below. Tim and Dave take you step-by-step through the creation one of the exhibition’s murals.
AREK by Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, 2007/Montana spray paint on Sintra panel/182.9 x 609.6 cm (72 x 240 in)/Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp
Con/AREK by Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, 2007/Montana spray paint on Sintra panel/182.9 x 609.6 cm (72 x 240 in)/Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp
The National Portrait Gallery’s “One Life: KATE, A Centennial Celebration” is closing soon, so be sure to see the exhibition before September 28, its final day. In this blog post, NPG’s Amy Henderson, curator of “KATE,” bids farewell to this centennial celebration of Katharine Hepburn’s birth.
Katharine Hepburn was right—she was absolutely fascinating. She proved that again and again this year as “KATE” was visited by throngs of enthusiastic audiences. People clearly enjoyed seeing her four Best Actress Oscars, but I think they were particularly drawn by the wonderfully affectionate portrait by Everett Raymond Kinstler (above) that Hepburn deemed her “favorite.”
The ratty red sweater also had its fans, who understood with me that that well-worn personal artifact lent the exhibition something “real” of her spirit. And I was delighted to see how carefully visitors read the labels, most of which used Hepburn’s own words and resonated with her personality.
Oh, did I mention the color red, her favorite color?! The exhibition was a red showcase of Kate Color, instantly drawing the visitor onto the Hepburn stage.
One of the things that touched me most was a young student from Duke Ellington School of the Arts who used “KATE” as her selection for the Portrait Gallery’s 2008 Portraits Alive! program this summer. Chelsea Harrison, a marvelously talented actor, suffused herself into Hepburn’s personality and created a jaw-dropping characterization that left her audience (me among them) in awe. You could almost hear Hepburn chortling somewhere, saying “See? I told you I was fascinating….”
As visitors walk through the intertwining hallways of the National Portrait Gallery, they often come upon Grant and His Generals by Ole Peter Hansen Balling—the largest work in our collection. This portrait measures 10 x 16 feet and weighs 450 pounds! So exactly how did it get to its current location in the stairwell?
While the building underwent more than six years of renovation, Grant and His Generals was safely housed in an offsite storage facility. When it was time for the painting to be returned to the building, much of the space was still under construction. To move the painting in, a large crane was used to hoist it from Seventh Street onto the second-floor portico, and then into the building. A platform extending beyond the portico served as the landing point. Here, an NPG employee used a rope to help guide the painting onto the platform.
Grant and His Generals was meticulously reinstalled in its current location on the curved wall of the second-floor stairwell. First, a large scaffolding unit was built in the stairwell. Next, a tapeline was made on the wall so that the exact placement could be achieved.
Once all preparations were made, the painting was uncrated, hoisted by numerous people, and moved into place. The original aluminum strips that secured the painting to the wall were reattached, and the original custom-made curved frame was reinstalled. Grant and His Generals was then covered in plastic to protect it from dust until the National Portrait Gallery reopened on July 1, 2006, after being closed for renovation.
A large crane hoists Grant and His Generals from Seventh Street onto the second-floor portico.
Grant and His Generals by Ole Peter Hansen Balling, oil on canvas, 1865, National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, gift of Mrs. Harry Newton Blue in memory of her husband, Harry Newton Blue
This exhibition is presented by The Commission on Presidential Scholars, the Presidential Scholars Foundation, the National Portrait Gallery, and the National Foundation for Advancement in the Arts (NFAA). The Taylor Foundation is proud to fund the exhibition.
In this blog post, we highlight one of the young artists, Jennifer Liu of Highland, Maryland. Her piece “Adopted Suburbia: Laundry Day” (above) hangs in the exhibition. In her artist’s statement Ms. Liu writes:
Spawned from the vision of post–World War II families, the suburban lifestyle has always strived to be a man-made utopia. In the modern day and age, suburbia tends to consist of a landscape of cloned houses, obscenely green lawns, and shopping complexes that stretch beyond the horizon. With inhabitants either cooped in their sport utility vehicles or attached to the television screen or computer monitor, one can say that this is a cultural wasteland.
There are many ways, however, to entertain oneself in an average American suburban setting. I have discovered that my everyday encounters with my overactive imagination, sculpted by years of commercials, cartoons, and sugar have commingled together to fabricate my own suburban paradise.
At a young age, Jennifer Liu enjoyed the many processes of making art. From painting and photography to making music and movies, she has always taken the initiative to try something new. During high school, she began to take more art classes and became more involved with her art. As a junior, Jennifer entered a countywide student film festival and received first place for her short film. She has also been recognized as a Maryland Distinguished Scholar for Talent in the Arts and is a 2008 NFAA youngARTS Silver Award winner in photography.
A graduate of River Hill High School, Jennifer is still experimenting with different mediums. Many of her latest works include installations created from everyday materials, serving as an environment for her performance-based pieces. These performances are then documented using photography or video. Jennifer plans to attend Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore this coming fall.
Adopted Suburbia: Laundry Day/Jennifer Liu, 2007/Digital Color Print, 36 x 24in
When I was asked to blog about my Herblock show, “Herblock’s Presidents: ‘Puncturing Pomposity.’” at NPG, I wondered what I could say about an exhibition on America’s greatest political cartoonist. The cartoon is a visual medium. How do you convey its meaning in words? It’s sort of like being a music critic; it really works only after you have heard the music. So, I suggest you first visit the exhibition's website, and then come back to the blog.
Herbert Block (the contraction “Herblock” was devised by his father) had the longest duration of any political cartoonist in American history (maybe, world history, but I never checked that out): from 1929, when he got his first full-time job working for the Chicago Daily News, until his death in 2001. He worked for the Washington Post from 1946 until his death, and there he became the most influential political cartoonist in America, as well a major factor in making the Post a nationally important newspaper. As a reward for his contributions to the Post, Block was given complete editorial independence, rare for a political cartoonist. He won three Pulitzer Prizes and shared a fourth with the Post for its coverage of the Watergate crisis.
Focusing on Herblock’s cartoons of American presidents, the exhibition complements NPG’s permanent exhibition “America’s Presidents.” Herblock made cartoons of presidents from Herbert Hoover to George H. W. Bush. “Herblock’s Presidents,” however, covers just those from Franklin Roosevelt through Bill Clinton. Herblock made few cartoons of Hoover, and those that he did were not particularly incisive; he also made very few of George W. Bush.
Also, we decided to select only negative cartoons for the exhibition: in Block’s own terms, it was the negative cartoons that “punctured pomposity” and had the most constructive effects. In one of his twelve published books, Block told the story of a schoolteacher giving a lesson on kindness to animals and asking her pupils to give examples of such kindness. One little boy told of finding a stray kitten and adopting it. A little girl found a bird with a broken wing and nursed it back to health. Then a little boy raised his hand and said he had encountered a bully kicking a dog. He went over and beat up the bully, making sure he would not kick another dog. This, for Block, was the ultimate function of a cartoon: to take on the big bully. With the presidents, he does just that.
We looked at more than 14,000 of Herblock’s cartoons and picked 40 for the exhibition and Web site. In addition, the actual exhibition at the NPG contains 128 additional images in digital format—all dealing with the presidents. I think you’ll like this exhibition if the American presidency interests you, and if you like to see a master cartoonist at work.
Why does a museum that usually exhibits art choose to exhibit posters? How do you characterize a poster anyway? Is it high culture when done by a fine artist and low culture when it reproduces a photographic face? Is it an historical document, an inexpensive decorative item, a symbol, or an ephemeral piece of commerce?
Sometimes a pictorial poster is a decorative masterpiece—something I can’t walk by without a jolt of aesthetic pleasure. Another might strike me as extremely clever advertising: you can feel the persuasive tug of words and image working in tandem. Occasionally, a poster is more like a punch in the stomach that takes you aback and makes you think. Posters can also be collectible icons for your wall, promoting your favorite cause or rock band. Indeed, there is no one tidy category for these pieces. But collectively, these “pictures of persuasion,” as we might call them, offer a wealth of art, history, design, and popular culture for us to understand.
The poster is a familiar part of our world, and we intuitively understand its role as propaganda, promotion, announcement, or advertisement. But in this exhibition, we’ve added another set of questions to ponder. How can we think about the poster as a form of popular portraiture? So often a poster does feature a famous face. And when it does, it is conveying information about that individual, while at the same time announcing the arrival of a circus, hawking a product, building wartime morale, or promoting a movie or political movement. What are those messages about the celebrity figure? Does the poster reinforce his or her public image? Undermine it? Subtly transform it? How does each poster express a specific moment in the life of the person depicted?
In my role as a curator at the National Portrait Gallery, I have enjoyed the opportunity to collect these posters as portraits of prominent Americans. They are bold and fun; each one, in my view, captures a moment of history and tells a story about its famous subject.
I find that I am always learning something new about the subtle complexities of this popular art form. It isn’t enough to learn the history of poster art. One must weave in the history of celebrity promotion and the history of advertising. Only then can we really understand the poster and ask the biographical questions.
I hope, when you visit our exhibition—in the museum or on the Web site—that you’ll share my attraction to these images as art, history, and portraiture.
Conducting research for the exhibition “Zaida Ben-Yusuf: New York Portrait Photographer” has been a marvelous adventure. As someone who enjoys doing archival research and hunting for “lost” things, this project has more than held my interest over the course of the last five years. At times, it seemed that each week brought new discoveries about her life and photographic career. The exhibition is on view at the National Portrait Gallery until September 1, 2008.
Although I studied the history of photography as a graduate student, I had never encountered Zaida Ben-Yusuf’s name before I saw two prints by her during preparations for an exhibition that the Portrait Gallery opened in 2003. Featuring 100 photographic portraits that had previously been published in the pages of ARTnews, America’s oldest continuously run art magazine, this exhibition included two exquisite portraits by Ben-Yusuf—platinum prints that pictured the sculptor Daniel Chester French and the Ashcan School artist Everett Shinn (below).
I have always been drawn to the beauty of well-crafted platinum prints, and these two photographs became two of my favorite works in the exhibition. Yet when it came time to write something about the pictures for the catalogue, I was struck by the paucity of information about Ben-Yusuf. No one seemed to know for certain when she was born, when she came to America, and what prompted her to pursue photography. At the time, I struggled to write labels for these two prints and ultimately had to dedicate most of my text to the subjects of these portraits.
New research technologies such as electronic databases—in particular, Proquest Historical Newspapers, Harpweek, and the American Periodical Series—made much of my early research possible. In searching on these sites, I learned quickly that Ben-Yusuf regularly contributed photographs and essays to magazines and newspapers at the turn of the twentieth century. I also encountered profiles of her written by others.
As Zaida Ben-Yusuf (right) is such a distinctive name, records of her contributions—and her mother’s—appeared with remarkable ease in these databases. Perhaps not surprisingly, editors frequently misspelled her name, and it was at times amusing to see how her pictures were credited in newspaper and magazine captions. In an earlier moment—when microfilm was king—it would have been impossible to locate as many different items as I did. Indeed, the recovery of Ben-Yusuf’s life was made possible by these new technologies.
This exhibition and its accompanying catalogue were also made possible because the Smithsonian continues—despite financial pressures—to encourage original scholarship. The receipt in 2004 of a Smithsonian Scholarly Studies grant enabled me to travel to a number of museums, archives, and libraries, where I learned more about Ben-Yusuf and began to encounter more examples of her vintage photographs.
One of the highlights of this travel was a trip to England in 2005 to investigate details about her youth. Although I had read an article prior to my trip that suggested that she was originally from Armenia—and another that indicated she was born in Paris—it was at the Family Records Center in London where I finally unearthed her birth certificate. This document and others provided fascinating insights into her family history and led me to pursue a variety of other research leads. Because a biographer is always interested in knowing more about the character and personality of the subject he or she studies, it was also revealing to learn from her birth certificate that Ben-Yusuf often lied about her age.
Because a museum exhibition is composed of notable objects, I understood early on that I needed to start locating examples of her work, if I wanted to develop anything larger than a scholarly article. A cursory search through photography collections here in Washington and other well-known collections in New York yielded a dozen or so of her pictures. Gathering together a dozen pictures, though, doesn’t constitute an exhibition, so I was compelled to look further afield.
I knew that she was a prominent portrait photographer—who attracted a number of leading actors, writers, artists, and politicians to her studio—because I had encountered reproductions of these pictures in magazines and newspapers. The question then became, where are the vintage prints? Over the last couple of years, I am happy to report that I was able to track down a good number of these photographs—enough to entice Marc Pachter, the Portrait Gallery’s director (now retired), to permit me to develop this project into an exhibition. The results of this adventure are now on view at the Portrait Gallery through September 1, 2008.
Two final thoughts: first, research is not a solitary activity, and I enjoyed the support and expertise of dozens of colleagues and friends. In particular, Beverly Brannan at the Library of Congress—a prominent historian with a special interest in women photographers—shared valuable information, as well as great enthusiasm for Ben-Yusuf’s photography.
And second, I must acknowledge here that I didn’t track down all of the pictures that I hoped to find. There are wonderful portraits that Ben-Yusuf completed of figures such as reformer Jacob Riis, artist William Merritt Chase, actress Julia Marlowe, and critic Sadakichi Hartman that I would give my left arm to find.
My hope is that the exhibition and catalogue will encourage others to continue the search. As such, if you have any questions—or if you know about the whereabouts of any missing pictures by her—please don’t hesitate to write.
-Frank A. Goodyear III
Announcement of an Exhibition of Photographs by Zaida Ben-Yusuf/Zaida Ben-Yusuf,1899/The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Gift of Mrs. Elizabeth Guy Bullock, accession number SC2006.6
Currently on display in the "One Life" gallery is the NPG exhibition "KATE: A Centennial Celebration," and as part of the show, its curator Amy Henderson negotiated the loan of Katharine Hepburn’s four Oscars from the Hepburn estate; the Oscars stay in storage at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Hollywood.
Interestingly, Hepburn’s Oscar for Morning Glory (1933) is very different from her other three Oscars. It appears to be smaller and less opulent, by far. Why is this? According to Susan Oka, acquisitions librarian with the Academy, “From 1928 to 1945, the Oscars had a Belgian black marble base and, although the statuette has always been the same size, ten and a half inches, the three inch base was not adopted until after 1945. Also, after 1945, the statuettes were made of Britannia metal, an alloy of tin, copper, and antimony.”
Amy Henderson says of the award, “I love the early one best; it really has that art deco look that the sculptor, George Stanley, was famous for. He did the sculptures at the Hollywood Bowl. The history of the term 'Oscar' also has a close Hepburn connection. The first time the name 'Oscar' was in print refers to Katharine Hepburn’s absence at the Academy ceremony in 1934 where she was awarded the best actress award for Morning Glory.”
And although Henderson says there are several great stories about the origin of the name “Oscar” for the award--its real name is the Academy Award of Merit--the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences maintains, per Oka, that an early executive director of the academy, Margaret Herrick, claimed that the statuette resembled her uncle Oscar.
What does it mean to bring the energy and aesthetic vibrancy of hip hop into a Smithsonian museum? Some visitors to the current National Portrait Gallery exhibition, "RECOGNIZE! Hip Hop and Contemporary Portraiture," on view until October 26, 2008, love the paintings, photographs, graffiti, installation, video, and poetry on view.
Others are not so sure. One recent visitor commented: “With pretty, polite framed portraits an art form based in combating oppression and the distinct yearning to be heard of creating something NEW is muted. Hip Hop is many things. This show only creates a palatable unchallenged portrait of hip hop—decreasing the impact of this transformational art form.” See the show and tell us what you think.
CON/Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp, 2007/Montana spray paint on Sintra panel/Tim Conlon and Dave Hupp
For the 2009 bicentennial of Abraham Lincoln’s birth, the NPG will have a Lincoln tribute on display from November 7, 2008 to July 5, 2009 in the "One Life" gallery. "The Mask of Lincoln" is being curated by NPG historian David C. Ward and he discussed the show recently.
Q. What will separate this show from all of the other Lincoln shows coming up in the bicentennial year?
DW. We have an excellent collection of all the best Lincoln portraits. We have thirty-one images, mostly photos, one painting, and four or five drawings. They span Lincoln’s life from the beardless youth to the Alexander Gardner cracked-plate image, which was broken in production. That’s a particularly great image: he is wearing that Mona Lisa-like smile because he knows the war is coming to an end. This show will tell Lincoln ’s story of the Civil War; I wanted to deal with slavery and emancipation because the war went from a war to save the Union to a war to end slavery.
Q. What is the most important part of this show?
DW. The photographs. Lincoln was the first president to come of age in the photographic era and he quickly grasped how to use the medium of photography in order to project himself as a national leader. The nineteenth century is filled with artists who are trying to narrow the distance between the person and the likeness; photography did just that. In the industrial-era philosophy, the fact that photography was mechanical meant that it was more accurate because it did not produce an image from the shaky hand of the artist or the engraver’s tool.
Q. Lincoln will be everywhere next year. How big is he in history?
There are more biographies on Abraham Lincoln than there are on anyone else except Napoleon Bonaparte.
For more information about this upcoming exhibition, an interview with curator, David Ward is now available on C-SPAN.
Each Thursday a curator or historian from NPG brings visitors face-to-face with a portrait by offering their insight into one individual. Thursdays, 6 to 6:30 p.m. at the museum
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