Show Puts Culture in Context

For those who have wondered why President Rudenstine (or his standin) would agree to spend Commencement Day perched in the world's most torturous-looking chair, the Sackler's new show, American Art at Harvard: Cultures and Contexts, provides no answers. It does, however, remind us that Harvard's museums are more than a place to temporarily dispose of loved ones when Parent's Weekend begins to pall. The exhibit raises a labyrinth of confounding problems that transcend the hothouse world of museums to intrude on our faith in the definition of American culture.

Curator Timothy A. Burgard has chosen 90 pieces from the University's 20,000-pieces American collection for this inaugural exhibition of the Art Museums' Luce Foundation American art program. Divided into seven "thematic" sections, the objects span seven centuries and five continents in origin. A few are masterpieces capable of carrying a show on their own; others are included solely for the theoretical questions they raise.

The exhibit presents a startling variety of works considered "American." It opens with three objects representing at first glance Native American, European and African-American cultural heritage: a contemporary sculpture by Creek Indian artist Joseph Johns, Gilbert Stuart's iconized portrait of George Washington, and a rubbing from a Cambridge Cemetery gravestone which reads, "Cicely, Negro, Late Servant to Ye Revd. Mr. William Brattle."

"Fine," the viewer thinks, "Another day in the life of multi-cultural America. Gee, we sure are diverse." But Cultures and Contexts is not a tired attempt to trot out all that is 'multi-cultural' from the dank basements of Mother Harvard, it is a thoughtful, if somewhat cramped, exploration of the problems that arise when adopting this diversity. "Many art museums now rush to embrace contextualization without recognizing or acknowledging that definitions of contexts themselves can be called into question," Burgard notes in the excellent gallery guide accompanying the exhibition.

The hefty ceremonial University silver is presented against a backdrop by Paul Revere (a silversmith himself) depicting Harvard Yard as it appeared in 1767. Portraits of Presidents Holyoke and Lowell seated in the same President's chair which might torture Acting President Albert Carnesale next June hang uneasily behind the malignant-looking seat itself. The representations, paired with the object, and distanced from the viewer by a pane of glass like anthropological objects, call into question our acceptance of the ceremonies around us.

The process of reevaluation of common American cultural forms occurs throughout Cultures and Contexts. Amidst representations of the Civil War, society matrons, industrial culture, bric-a-brac, the American flag and landscapes, Emily Dickinson's childhood sewing sampler attracts attention. The poet's infant stitches are paired with a work by contemporary text artist Jenny Holzer entitled, "Don't Talk Down to Me..." Holzer's sampler-inspired ultimatum for respect, spoken presumably by a woman, inspires comparisons to the changing role of women in American culture. Dickinson's deceptively archaic sampler, fading with age, reminds us of all that has not changed.

The almost schitzophrenically diverse exhibition moves through a rust-colored room of densely packed works. Each is accompanied by a careful explanation from a social, historical or stylistic perspective. Every work demands the viewer's attention and thought by itself, and in concert with the works surrounding it. In the fever of all these ideas lurk the artistic gems of the collection: three paintings which need no explanation.

Rothko's "Untitled (Blue, Green)," Whistler's "Nocturne in Blue and Silver, No. 1," and Feininger's "Bird Cloud" are tucked in a pristine white oasis at the heart of the exhibition. They are presented like a stage set depicting display techniques in a modern museum. The paintings, all modern and somewhat abstract in tones of blue, crystallize the value of Cultures and Contexts. They are presented on white walls without the helpful explanations, without accompanying cultural artifacts, yet carry themselves with the solitary dignity of true masterpieces. There is a rising debate in American museums about the validity of hanging art on flat rectangular white walls. Yet these walls, after the chaos of the rest of the exhibit, establish a connection between art and viewer which is difficult to dispute.

Each visitor to American Art at Harvard: Cultures and Contexts will develop a personal list of questions and concerns in viewing this rich collection of works and their provocative presentation. Hopefully, continuing-shows in the Luce series will further explore these concerns. With this series and the possible imminent arrival of a lone female Americanist in the History department, Harvard could see a renewed focus on American culture. Cultures and Contexts reminds us that this culture inhabits a far more diverse and treacherous terrain than we imagine.