A Story to be Told

After taking a trip to the Monroe County Historical Center and the IU Art Museum, it has become very clear to me that art has a bigger purpose. Not only can some art be aesthetically pleasing, but it can also tell a story. The story may be about love, it may be about pain, or it may just be about a Llama. In Elizabeth Vallance's The Adventures of Artemis and the Llama: A Case for Imaginary Histories in Art Education, she speaks explicitly about how most objects' histories are unknown and that the only way to find connections and reveal truth is to use the imagination and create a narrative for the object. She explains that by making personal connections and paying attention to detail, one can make art more accessible. Although on my first museum visit I had not read her work, my second visit to the IU Art Museum was much more of an experience thanks to her article. All my life I have been taught to read the label, learn about the facts, and see what is in front of me at face-value.

After reading the article I can take a step back and think about the vase or sculpture as a living thing, something with a past, a present, and a future. I found this to be most evident when we had a class discussion about the Greek vase. I would never have thought that the story being depicted on the vase was about tragedy in love. Achilles falls in love with the woman that  at the same time he kills. I find it interesting that the vase not only has a story on its surface, but it can also have a story as an object in time. I ask my self questions like: who drank the wine from its depths so many years ago? Did they tell stories and talk of love and death as they drank at parties? Who owned the vase, was he rich or poor? All these questions and more make the art more accessible, as Vallance says.

At the Monroe County Historical Center I really enjoyed the way it was displayed. The classroom and the log cabin were great examples of historical imagery and narrative. When you walk in to the classroom you can imagine the students sitting at their desks, and the teacher discussing the math lesson, and in the cabin you can picture the mother cooking the rabbit her husband just killed, while the children play on the dirt floor with their cloth dolls. The whole building itself has a history. Yes, I may now know that it was once a school building that was segregated, but what were the students and teachers like? What about the stocks room we got the opportunity to visit, just think of all the untold stories that lie on those shelves. Everyone that enters the museum will have preconceived notions and expectations of what they are "supposed" to see and experience. It is only when you take a step back and see the objects as living things with a voice and a story to tell that you will truly understand and appreciate their presence.

As I move forward, and go to new exhibits and museums, I will now have a greater appreciation for the story that each object or piece of art has to offer. How cool is it to think that I have the power to create a history. The label below the statue is only the beginning of the truth. With an open mind, an analytical approach, and imagination, there is a story to be told.

I am in a Museum

This week, the reading that really stuck out to me was the excerpt from "Why We Need Things," by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Although his name is extremely hard to pronounce, he makes some valid points and I have conflicting views on some of what the text has to offer. The main concept addressed in the article is the idea of objectification, or the relationship between people and the artifacts they choose to obtain.

These objects that we have in everyday life help one explain to themselves about who they are as a person and provide a means of expression, which therefore creates a facade we hope to portray to others. Csikszentmihalyi explains that there are three main reasons for having particular objects: demonstrating power, providing time recognition, and social standing. He also stresses the fact that dependence on objects is physical, but mostly psychological. He makes quite a jump and says that without props, our personal identity fades. I disagree, external stimuli is not a necessity like he claims. I believe that we are perfectly capable of having identity without objects. What if you are poor? If I have no money to buy things I really want, and all I can afford is food and water, am I considered identity-less? People are like museums. We are always changing. We are always observed by random people that we may never speak to, and there will always be judgment we cannot stop. Like a painting on a wall we are criticized and praised for flaw and perfection. I do not think WE need things to identify ourselves, but in fact,  I think that our peers need things to identify other people. This point is made clear in the article, the author talks about other people the whole time, and not once does he mention why HE needs the objects.

I guess my point is that this article really got me to thinking about what I own, and why I own it. Maybe I am unaware that I own certain things for a reason. I think our consciousness is exposed in ways we have no control over. I will admit that I care what other people think of me, to an extent. I dress casually most of the time, but never sloppy. But I dress the way I do for me, not other people. If I felt like not showering for a week and not changing my clothes that would be my own prerogative. The clothes I buy are on the racks in Target, or the mall and I am in a way buying for an audience. Who are the people putting out the line of clothes in style at Target? Are they not deciding how to identify people? Whether I like it or not, objects and humans are interdependent. Do I think we could go without? Probably. I do not know how I feel about the objects I have, but that I have them because I like them. I guess that is for everyone else to decide, because after reading this article, it does not look like I have much say in the matter anyways... so put me in a museum! It is no different than walking down a busy street. There will be people, there will be judgement, and I do not care.