Art for Tourists? and is that bad? Three exhibitions in Rome: Gallerias Corsini, Borghese and Nazionale.

Juxtaposing art works by a theme other than historical context seems to be the new-ish rage. A couple Rome examples.

First, the Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition at Galleria Corsini. I'm sure the Popes, cardinals, and royals who established and contributed to this gallery would roll over in their graves had they seen (a bit hard to do from the grave) Robert Mapplethorpe's stunning black and white photographs of sadomasochism next to paintings of saints. That's what the Corsini did - the show has been extended until October 6. I was fascinated by it; Bill not so much.

Then I wondered if I was falling into the trap of simplistic viewing of art - art for tourists rather than art for those who know and appreciate art, to steal a distinction used by Christopher Knight recently in a screed against the new Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) new building design and curator goals. A nicer way to put it, per Knight, is that "Every art museum serves two publics - an art public and a general public." In his polemic, Knight says LACMA's current plan "puts a thumb on the scale for the latter."

The extension of the Mapplethorpe exhibition was justified, according to the gallery, because public viewing of the Corsini doubled - part way through the current show - compared to the same period last year. In our experience, the Corsini is generally not one of the most visited museums in Rome.

Here's one of the more audacious Mapplethorpe juxtapositions, as I reference above:

Mapplethorpe, Lisa Lyon, 1981. The three paintings are by Bolognese painter
Guido Reni (1575-1642) of Christ with the Crown of Thorns, the Sorrowful Virgin 
and St. John the Baptist. The sculpture is "Silenus Head," Roman, 2nd Century AD.

The curator places the photography of body-builder Lisa Lyon in sadomasochistic garb below the three Guido Reni paintings of pained saints. What is the viewer to think about these works? That depictions of sorrow and pain can have similarities and differences over centuries? That Mapplethorpe's work is rooted in the classical?  It seems to me these are worthy questions, and they don't make the works "homeless," a term Knight uses.

I recall a pamphlet on the exhibition (which I lost on the way back from Rome) that explained Mapplethorpe's deep ties to classical art. And the image below demonstrates that:

Mapplethorpe, "Black Bust" (1988) and "Apollo" (1988), The sculpture is by Luigi Bienalmé

(1795 -1878), "Dancer with Finger on her Chin," in Rome's Galleria Corsini. Another sculpture from the 17th century "framed" Mapplethorpe's photographs on the other side.

Another exhibition illustrating this 'trend' is one I didn't see - Lucio Fontana's work placed in the Galleria Borghese, apparently the first 20th-century artist to be so "honored." It closed August 25. This one, too, keeps the Renaissance works in their own context, and adds Fontana. I'll leave it up to you to decide if the interplay adds meaning (photo below right).

"Terra e Oro" (Earth and Gold), Fontana exhibition at the
Galleria Borghese in Rome.

A third exhibition - on view until November 3 - takes a similar approach.  "Joint Is Out of Time," a follow-on to 2016's "Time Is Out of Joint" (yes, from "Hamlet") uses works in the Galleria Nazionale's collection placed in a context with each other that is not related to their style or chronology,  This is more of the type of exhibition Knight complains about - it takes everything out of context.  Each room in the exhibition has a different theme or way of connecting the pieces in it.

I liked one room that I would call "war" (the Gallery's descriptions of the rooms were non-existent for the most part, and there was very little information about the art work and the artists), even though it takes very different types of works in different media from different periods and puts them together. On the other hand, is this just "art tourism"? Art for the general public?  What more can we say than that the theme is one of fighting? Does the juxtaposition make us understand or appreciate any of the works more than if they were in context with other artists/styles/periods that are similar?

The sculpture of the fighting dogs, which is disturbingly real and well-placed in the gallery, is by Italian sculptor Davide Rivalta. It was in the 2016 exhibition as well. I don't recall the artist of the painting on the wall (one of our readers might). At the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna in Rome.

Unlike the pamphlet for the Mapplethorpe exhibition, the limited material available for the Galleria Nazionale exhibition was, frankly, close to unintelligible curator high b.s. And there was no attempt to tie the works together in the different rooms of the museum. You were on your own.  Or, if you were like these teenagers at right, in the room on "war," you were bored (whatever was on their phones was more interesting, apparently).

Below is an example from the Mapplethorpe exhibit that seemed to me too simplistic.  Each is a portrait of a dandy, from different periods. Each artist selected a similar profile; each subject has a high forehead and trimmed beard. Should we appreciate the similarities, or are the similarities simply superficial?

Left, Simone Cantarini, "Self-Portrait" (1612-1648);
Right, Mapplethorpe, "Harry Lunn," 1976. Galleria Corsini, Rome.

Another benefit from this type of exhibition is that it uses primarily the works already in the gallery. It doesn't require the loan of an entire show worth of works (in the case of Galleria Nazionale). It doesn't require rehanging an entire gallery (in the case of the Corsini and Borghese museums). In other words, it's economical compared to travelling or entirely new shows, at a time when galleries are underfunded.

Jason Farago, in a recent article in the New York Times on an exhibition at the Pompidou Center entitled “Préhistoire” ("Prehistory"), made a similar distinction in reviewing a show he says demonstrates - in detail - how "prehistory" influenced modern artists. He states, "This show doesn’t merely juxtapose hand axes and fossils with superficially concordant modern art, but grounds these juxtapositions with the artists’ notebooks, interviews, and other primary sources."  He is critical of some works in the show, noting "the curators' engagement with modernity and thickened time gives way to a few too many wink-nudge sendups of old rocks and fertility goddesses."  It's these "wink-nudge" comparisons that trouble me.

A contrast to the Rome exhibitions highlighted above is the Galleria Moderna d'Arte's (the city of  Rome's modern art gallery - once the Mussolini gallery (!)),exhibition on the depiction of women in art in the 20th century (a specific theme, a chronological approach, but also using its own collection) and the Palazzo Merulana (the private gallery about which I wrote a year ago) exhibition on the works of Giacomo Balla - a specific artist, again of the 20th century. (Photos below.) More traditional shows, not likely to draw as many visitors perhaps, but, to me, giving the viewer more opportunity to learn about the art.

Balla, "Autocaffè" 1928, in the show:
"Giacomo Balla. Dal Futurismo astratto
 al Futurismo iconico" (Giacomo Balla:
 From abstract Futurism to iconic Futurism)
 at Palazzo Merulana.

Photograph in Rome's Galleria Moderna d'Arte from its
show "Donne. Corpo e immagine tra simbolo e rivoluzione"
 ("Women: Body and image in symbol and revolution").

A respected gallery curator with whom I was speaking recently (who knew the three shows I highlighted above only from my descriptions) said these types of placement of works could encourage people who have previously seen the works to look at them in new ways, or could cause viewers who don't normally relate to one period or style to come to see it and possibly appreciate it because they came to see a style with which they are familiar. In either case, one is expanding the art public or the public's sense of art or both. Or are these shows just encouraging simplistic conclusions?

My ambivalence remains.

Dianne

A PS to those who read my screed on private galleries, highlighting Palazzo Merulana and Los Angeles's Marciano Art Foundation: Palazzo Merulana recently won the "Best Practice - Public Patrimony" prize for 2019 ("Premio Best Practice Patrimoni Pubblici 2019"). So much for my opinion!

Duilio Cambellotti - an Arts & Crafts Master in Rome

From the Latina series, mythologizing the "heroic" peasant.

Duilio Cambellotti is an Italian artist who worked in, and excelled in, many mediums. He sculpted in bronze and wood, made bowls and furniture, worked in leaded glass, painted buildings, designed stamps and stage sets, painted frescoes, designed tiles for a high school auditorium. It's more a question of what he didn't do. He's both everywhere around Rome and yet little recognized.

Born in 1876, Cambellotti lived to be 83--through two World Wars and Fascism. His art was born in the crucible of Art Nouveau and Art Deco, what in Italy is called "Stile Liberty," and in some ways his art - while spanning many media and showing great creativity among them, in my opinion did not change much. The English Wikipedia entry on him is surprisingly thorough, though short on any explanation of his work under Mussolini.


In 1937, Cambellotti created an ad for a Fiat car named "La Nuova Balilla." The ad says it's the "Balilla of the Empire."  "Balilla" is the name of the youth groups that engendered Fascism in Italy's youth (Bill reviewed a book about them).

A stamp Cambellotti designed
for the Mussolini government,
with Art Deco ("Stile Liberty")
style fasce.

Cambellotti sculpture of peasant with
plow. The plow was another icon he used
in different media.

We first encountered Cambellotti's work in the town of Latina, in the Agro Pontino southwest of Rome, the marshes Mussolini's government reclaimed and in which it built new cities, of which Latina is one. There Cambellotti painted frescoes in public buildings, depicting a nostalgic view of agriculture and the land (see top photo above), reflecting his ties to the British William Morris and the widespread Arts & Crafts movement. There is a small museum of his work in Latina.

The plow used on a bowl.

Poster for 1911 "Show of the Agro Romano" in Rome,
featuring the plow.

Cambellotti's iconic (for him) kneeling bull, again demonstrating his mythologizing
of agricultural life, which was basically a horrific existence in the Agro Pontino,
especially with the malarial swamps there. The kneeling bull appears in several
 of his sculptures, bowls and paintings.

We've also seen Cambellotti's sculptures in a villa, a museum and a high school in Rome, ran across one of his painted buildings in Prati, and enjoyed an expansive exhibit of his works last year at Villa Torlonia: "Duilio Cambellotti: Myth, dream and reality."

Cambellotti is perhaps most often seen in Rome in the Casina delle Civette (Casina of the Owls) in Villa Torlonia, where the Torlonia family commissioned several Stile Liberty artists in the second decade of the 20th century to design the faux-Swiss cottage and adorn it with stained glass.  Cambellotti did the owls.

Villino Vitale, 1909

In the Prati area of Rome one can simply look up and see Cambellotti's birds on the 1909 Villino Vitale, via dei Gracchi, 291. The doves are frescoed and the swallows on the tower are in maiolica (tiles).

The doves frescoed on Villino Vitale

The swallows in maiolica on Villino Vitale

The "aula magna" of Liceo Galileo Galilei decorated with Cambellotti's tiles.
Unfortunately, the projection screen covers some of the work.

One of the more astounding of Cambellotti's works is the tile decoration on the walls of the auditorium in a Rome technical institute and science high school, Liceo Galileo Galilei, a building designed in 1920-22 by Marcello Piacentini, one of Fascism's famous architects about whom we've written previously. (Via Conte Verde 52, near the Manzoni Metro stop and not too far from Palazzo Merulana.) The building went through several transformations, and therefore I'm not sure of the date of Cambellotti's work, but certainly after 1920. We will write about the school's interesting history in another post. One can get inside only on special occasions, in our case for an Open House Roma tour. In the tile work, one can see the themes of mythology, industry, and, in this case, sea-faring, again a valorization of the
worker.

Poster for a 1948 production of "Agamemnon"
at the Greek Theater in Syracuse.

Finally (for this post), here are a few examples of Cambellotti's work for the theater.  We hadn't known, until we saw the Villa Torlonia show last year, that Cambellotti designed sets, costumes, and posters for the theater. Many of these were for the Greek Theater in Syracuse (Siracusa), Sicily.

Stage set for a 1933 production of a Sophocles play.

Program insert.

Prolific though he was, we find Cambellotti's name almost unknown in Rome today. The temporary exhibitions that crop up now and then, and the placement of his work in 20th-century art galleries and museums, such as the too-little visited Galleria d'Arte Moderna di Roma Capitale and Palazzo Merulano, hopefully will change that.

Dianne

Alone in the Rome Modern Art Gallery, with Cataldi and Marini

Galatea by Amleto Cataldi, 1925

We first discovered sculptor Amleto Cataldi (1982-1930) "in the weeds" in the Olympic Village (Villagio Olimpico) in Rome.  We later learned that his sculptures of athletes--placed seemingly haphazardly in green space (also known as weeds) in this athletes' housing built for the Rome 1960 Olympics--came from the 1911 Flaminio Stadium that was torn down to make way for the new Olympic stadium by Pier Luigi Nervi.

But... recently, on a visit to one of our favorite, lightly-visited museums in Rome, the Galleria d'Arte Moderna di Roma Capitale (the city's - as opposed to the state's - modern art gallery) we discovered a Cataldi sculpture virtually headlining the current exhibition on 1920s and 1930s Italian art, originally purchased for what was then called Galleria Mussolini.  Unlike his muscular athletes, Cataldi's Galatea here - a late, 1925 work -  is smooth and modern (note the hair-do).  The fish in her hand is appropriate because the statue was designed to be part of a fountain.

And, we can't resist another preview of this exhibition, "Fragment" by Marino Marini (1901-1980), who lived past the Fascist era.  This piece from 1929 is an excellent example of the artistic desire to replicate a ruin - to layer the past and the present.  It fits with the importance the Fascists gave to hearkening back to ancient Rome.  This fragment nude is a nice contrast to Cataldi's modern female nude.

Frammento by Marino Marini, 1929

 And when we stepped outside of the museum, we saw this creative courier and his "sculpted" vehicle.

The gallery is open Tuesday-Sunday 10 a.m. - 6.30 p.m.  Euro 7.5 for most of us.  via Francesco Crispi, 24 - between the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps, up the block from the Gagosian Gallery.  There won't be any crowds.  In fact, you may be the only one there.
Dianne

Off the Radar Series: Galleria d'Arte Moderna di Roma Capitale

Once called "Galleria Mussolini," now a refurbished grand display of 20th-
Century Italian - mainly Roman -  art

We found ourselves running out of time in an excellent exhibit of 20th-century Italian art at the often overlooked Galleria d'Arte Moderna di Roma Capitale - i.e., the City's Modern (as in before "contemporary" - before MACRO) Art Gallery.

A discrete, if not proper, photo of the current exhibition.

Until recently, the museum was a kind of backwater - in an art sense, not location.  It's up via Francesco Crispi from Gagosian's, and only a few blocks from the Spanish Steps.  But after an almost 10-year closure and renovation (and not the first decades-long closure in its history), it can now hold its own in Rome's dynamic 20th- and 21st-century art scene. 

The last two shows we have seen there have been astoundingly well curated and fascinating.  The collection - of 20th-century Rome art - is very good, perhaps better than the gallery's glitzier cousins - MACRO and MAXXI - who blew their patronage on their buildings.

Locations of galleries, cafes, and
hang-outs of the artists and writers
are on this map.

The current show features the interplay of Italian literature and art, beginning with Gabriele D'Annunzio and continuing through Alberto Moravia.  The panels and placards are all in both English and Italian. 

A 1923 vase by Cambellotti

The D'Annunzio room is titled "between Symbolism and Decadence." Both terms are apt for this World War I hero turned Fascist aviator and poet.  Bill's post 2 years ago explored decadence in Italian culture, and featured D'Annunzio.  Several bronze pieces by Duilio Cambellotti in the "Liberty" style (a movement akin to Art Nouveau, but moving slightly into Art Deco in Italy) are on display in this room.  We came across Cambellotti in an exhibit a few years ago at Villa Torlonia, where some of his work is found permanently in the Casina delle Civette (on Itinerary 8 in Rome the Second Time).

Ferruccio Ferrazzi, "Fragment
of Composition," 1920-21

The material on Luigi Pirandello, writer of "Six Characters in Search of an Author," and considered one of the first absurdist playwrights, speaks cogently of his questioning of the self and the absurdity of the human condition.  Several large paintings of the period (mainly the 1920s) are displayed with quotes from Pirandello that the curator has selected.  A couple of the paintings feature a person examining himself or herself in a mirror.


We have seen a lot of Futurist exhibits in Rome and so won't add much here, except to say that part of a room is devoted to the father of Italian Futurism, Filippo Tommaso Marinetti (who, despite his bellicose views, intrigued Yoko Ono) and the "sensation of flight" paintings.

Giacomo Manzu', Girl on a chair,
1955, bronze

The rest we leave for you to discover, pointing out that the gallery has works by Giulio Aristide Sartorio,  Giacomo Balla, Scipione, Mario Mafai, Afro, Arturo Martini, and Giorgio Morandi, among others.  The curating is excellent.  Don't miss the sculpture court on the first floor.

The current exhibition runs through September 29. 

The Galleria d'Arte Moderna's Web site is excellent, although most of it is not translated from Italian.

The gallery is open Tuesday- Sunday 10 a.m. - 6 p.m., last admission 30 minutes before closing.  It closes at 2 p.m. on Christmas and New Year's Eves, and is closed, in addition to Mondays, January 1, May 1 and December 35.

Dianne

How not to run an art museum: a few lessons for Rome

This artwork at MACRO last year may be a subtle message from
the employees to the patrons... read on

Okay, I know I shouldn't whine, and we try to restrain ourselves and not publish whiny pieces.  There's enough of that to go around in Rome without our piling on.  But several recent art museum experiences have forced my hand.  Here are four current beefs:

1) rude employees
2) explanations only in Italian
3) placards designed not to be read easily:  too small, too high, too low - in just one day, we saw them all
4) anti-social and force-fed audio guides

I'll start with the rude employees, since they disrupt the art-going experience the most.  And I'll pick on the employees at MACRO, the city's contemporary art gallery that we had (perhaps) the bad sense to rate above MAXXI, the state's contemporary art gallery.  They are just consistently rude and, as a result, cast a pall over my entire MACRO experience.

We have always had a soft spot for MACRO, the runner-up in most people's eyes, to the bigger, glitzier, starchitect-driven MAXXI.  But it seems when MACRO tried to imitate its bigger sister, it decided it should get chippier as well.  We loved the MACRO evening when they handed out Campari sodas and let people don hard hats and go down into what would become the main entrance/new addition by Odile Decq.  We've done more than half a dozen posts that highlight this gallery.

No money back... one of these signs - now which one? - warns
you the main building isn't open, tho' it just had its grand
opening.

So when the addition finally opened, we were excited to see it.  We trooped over to MACRO, handed out our then 9 Euros each (quite a price rise from the former 2 Euro entrance fee, but admittedly less than the now 11 Euro fee), only to be told as we walked to the new addition that - even though it had just had its grand opening a few days before - it wasn't really open.  And, no, we couldn't get our money back.  Couldn't we see the sign, said the unrelenting ticket seller.  In the photo here you can see that there isn't exactly one sign that stands out.  I guess that sign about the new addition not being open is here somewhere!

That was 2010.  Oh, well, we'll come next year, we said.  And we did, in 2011.  Then the new entrance was open - so open they wouldn't even let you in the former entrance.  One of those, okay, now just to get in, you get to walk all the way around the block (MAXXI pulled this stunt too - and the blocks aren't exactly short) from what you thought was the entrance.  And once you enter, you are treated to the opportunity to watch 6 employees while no one even acknowledges you're at the counter (photo).  Nonetheless, we swallowed our temptation to say "screw you" and walk out, and enjoyed the new building and exhibits - enough, as I noted above, that we rated MACRO above MAXXI in our post, even while taking note of the less-than-helpful employees.

Everyone except the woman in jeans is an employee...count 'em,
and no one is even greeting her.

So now we're at 2013 (I guess we survived 2012 without getting torqued).  And now there was only 1 employee at the counter and one patron - me.  Nonetheless, the woman at the counter managed to be snarly and unpleasant, even though we had combo tickets already purchased for 7 days of MACRO Testaccio and the basic MACRO.  Maybe she was disappointed she didn't get a sale.  We had to keep showing our tickets at each exhibit hall, and they were scrutinized.  "You know, these are good only for 7 days..."  Yes, we know, and it's within the 7 days!   Add to that less than stellar exhibitions (walls of flat work talking about galleries going back decades, but giving up in 2001 and not talking about the current decade, e.g.), and maybe we'll have to revise our 1-2 order for MACRO and MAXXI (MAXXI is on one of the 4 tours in our new book, Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler ; see below for more information).

Sink as art: white when the water is cold.

Turns red when the hot water is on.

I should note these comments are limited to the main MACRO gallery, not MACRO Testaccio.

And we still like the toilets. 


More than all this, it just bugs me that a nasty employee can make me not even want to walk through the exhibit, and affect my attitude towards the art.

Now to those placards only in Italian.  The State's immense modern art gallery, Galleria Nazionale dell'Arte Moderna, just north of the Villa Borghese, has an interesting show on Italian still life in the 20th century, including dozens of unframed paintings (wonder what the artists think of that!), "lesser known works," they acknowledge.  But all of the placards and explanations are in Italian.  Fine for us, but what about the other thousands of tourists who might want to know something about Italian art? We commend the CITY's modern art gallery (Galleria dell'Arte Moderna di Roma Capitale on via F. Crispi - a post will come later) for its excellent dual-language placards.  And the State can't bother?  In this show too, some of the placards were too high to read, and some you had to kneel to read.  Really?  Of course, that's not as bad as the placement of some of the art works - still lifes at 10 feet aren't exactly hung to be viewed.  Get a grip, GNAM!

And, finally, those dang audioguides.  Our last experience with those was at the comprehensive Brueghel family (don't be fooled and think you're going to see a lot of the Brueghel master himself - but you do get Heironymous Bosch's Seven Deadly Sins thrown in - and that's worth it) exhibition at Chiostro Bramante, just off Piazza Navona.  I generally don't like audioguides.  Some tell you what you're looking at ("there's a woman in a red hat" - okay, I can figure that out); some are excruciatingly long and off-point.  And they make the crowds cluster around the paintings they cover.  The text of this audioguide was in fact quite good.  Each piece was under 2 minutes and pointed out things one might not have seen or known.  Still, we were forced to buy the audioguides, because there was virtually no printed text accompanying the exhibit.  If you went in without the audioguide, as we first did, you were completely without context.  And, audioguides make museum going such a solitary experience.  How does one talk to one's companion, when you are always tuned into something, and not necessarily the same thing?  It seems so un-social, compared to reading a placard together and discussing a piece.  Sometimes solitary museum going is what one wants, but one shouldn't be forced into it.

End of diatribe.  Get over it, Dianne!

 Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler  features the 21st-century music and art center of Flaminio, highlighted by MAXXI, along with Mussolini's Foro Italico, also the site of the 1960 summer Olympics, and three other walks: the "garden city" suburb of Garbatella, the 20th-century suburb of EUR, and a stairways walk in classic Trastevere. 

 

This 4-walk book is available in all print and eBook formats The eBook is $1.99 through amazon.com and all other eBook sellers.  See the various formats at smashwords.com. 

Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler now is also available in print, at amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, independent bookstores,  and other retailers; retail price $5.99.