In most galleries and museums that we go to there are maps and arrows to point our way. This makes it easy to predict a person’s path through a gallery space, and indeed when monitored (as seen in the image below of the Sainsbury wing of the National Gallery) the pathways are pretty much as expected, and on the most part are similar. What happens if such directional devices are removed? Rooms are no-longer numbered; there are no arrows and no maps. Would people’s pathways through the gallery change? And what effect would this have on the experience of the visitor to the gallery.
The space of the gallery itself would become more obviously directing. Newer galleries, such as the Tate Modern were designed with visitor numbers in mind. The layout of the rooms at the Tate mean that visitors are more likely to move about them in a particular way, and are also less likely to miss a room than in other galleries. Those involved in the designing of the Sainsbury Wing said, “We want to avoid the danger of visitors by-passing rooms because they are out of the way or appear to be in a cul-de-sac”. The removal of directional devices, therefore, may not initiate so much of a change in the movements of the visitor.
As you can probably tell, I am still thinking about different features that make galleries the way they are, and influence our movements within them. Though I am no longer concerned just with the differences in movements between galleries but also between experiences; if you’ve been to an interesting gallery, exhibition or museum space I’d love to know about it.
I’ve done so much research recently; it’s been really interesting and quite fun. But it has meant that I have changed direction with my work. Although here is the problem, I haven’t made any work relating to my research or anything else for a while. I don’t even know what to make. It’s a little worrying considering I’m a matter of months away from my degree, which I’m sure you’ll agree is fairly important.
However, today there has been finally been light at the end of the long, cold, dark tunnel of not producing work. I still haven’t made anything, but I’ve had Ideas. It’s all very exciting, I hope, and this week I shall begin trying things out, hooray! Though the research into the gallery will still continue, now I can feel more like I’m being more productive towards my degree show!
Last week I went to two very contrasting spaces both designed to show artistic works. The New White Cube gallery in Bermondsey is a commercial space designed specifically to showcase the work that is exhibited there. The Sir John Soane Museum in Holburn began life as a private collection within the house of the architect Sir John Soane 1753- 1837. The house has now become a museum and is slowly being restored to how it would have been upon Soane’s death in 1837. Sir Soane is interesting as he had a lot of involvement with what is considered the first free public art gallery in Britain, Dulwich Picture Gallery. I am thinking of visiting the Picture Gallery in the course of my research, but for now the house, now the museum is at the focus of my research.
The space in the house is in complete contrast to the space of the White Cube Gallery. And so it would be, they were conceived nearly 200 years apart. It would appear that the concentration within both spaces is on the collections they hold. This is very apparent within the White Cube as the space is obviously designed not to be considered within the viewing of the work. It is a boring bare space, the work displayed inside it is what brings the interest. This would appear to be so that the attention is on the work rather than the space holding the work (I know, I really need to read Inside the White Cube, Brian O’Doherty, and it’s on my shelf at home, honest!)
Sir John Soane Museum is different. Perhaps this is partly due to the fact that it is called a museum not a gallery (I’m sure I have more literature to read in this area too.) Originally the house was used by Soane to show off his collections of artistic objects from around the world. These include plaster copies of sculptures, many from the Vatican, an Egyptian sarcophagus and a room dedicated to paintings. The display of the works, and the nature of the house itself beg to be explored, every corner holds something new.
As much as I am interested and enjoy the works of Anslem Kiefer, whose work was on show at the white cube, I found I enjoyed visiting the Sir John Soane Museum far more. Perhaps that’s because I love old houses, especially unusual ones. Perhaps it’s also because I felt less like I was there because I ought to go and see some art (even though it was suggested to me in a tutorial). The differences between these spaces are something that I am going to consider further in my research, which will eventually lead me to making some work.
This is something I wrote for a project we have been set at university in preparation for our degree show. The project was to create three proposals based on our current practice but without considering money, time or space constraints. This is the first of my proposals:
Maps show us the way. Maps in galleries show us the directions to a piece of work, a particular room in the gallery or in which order we are encouraged to view the work. The later is more common in exhibitions of specific artists, such as the map pictured to the right showing the recent exhibition of Pipilotti Rist’s work at the Hayward gallery.
The gallery, according to Pontus Hultèn, is a space to be traversed. There is a tradition of the gallery as a place to stroll and become immersed in the work that the gallery map contradicts. I would change this by placing my own altered versions of gallery maps within galleries, amongst their own, or even replacing them altogether. The altered map would differ from the original in a few ways, depending on the nature of the gallery and the map. A proposed route would be changed, or the numbers indicating the position of a piece of work would become letters or numbers that do not correspond with the numbers next to the text. Room numbers would be changed and the maps original purpose would not be fulfilled. Instead, there would be concentration on the work within the gallery and a stronger sense of exploration and discovery.
I’m not sure that this is something that I wish to pursue anymore, but it has got me started on thinking about work I can make from the research that I have been doing.
Inside the gallery we are comfortable to put ourselves in situations that we might otherwise avoid. If we were approached in the street to go and see someone’s apartment or a space some had made would we do it? The minute the word ‘art’ is attached to something it feels safer, more legitimate, never more so than within the walls of a gallery.
Why is it that we feel safer within the environment of the gallery, why are we more likely to take part in something within such a space? There is an assumption that we will come to no harm inside an institution where there are health and safety rules to be met. But what if the situation is not as safe as first thought? Or what if something appears to go wrong?
I have begun considering the nature of the gallery space in my work since these ideas arose from my installation Blind Room. My next few blog entries shall look into various ideas relating to the gallery space and the spectator within these spaces.
