By Jake (Yanmeng) Li
The experience I want to highlight is our visit to the Whitney Museum of American Art. Iʼve
included observations on aspects I found most interesting, which are the architecture of the building as well as the exhibition on the 7th floor - The Whitneyʼs Collection: Selections from 1900 to 1965.
Despite the museumʼs vast dimensions, its subdued exterior separates it from other art spacesʼ monumental and flamboyant designs, such as the Shed in the neighbouring Chelsea district. Tucked snuggly between the vegetated tracts of the High Line (a subway tract turned walkable path) and the boutiques, with its main entrance spilled over the narrow Gansevoort street thatʼs cobbled towards the east, the museum appears approachable and it invokes a sense of intimacy.
As you approach the building, it somehow submerged itself amid the gentrified meatpacking buildings which stand much shorter than the structure itself. Further, steel cladding panels on the exterior are moderate in height to avoid exaggerating the verticality (figure 2). Architectural critic Robert Bevan has some harsh words for Whitleyʼs architecture, proclaiming its design to be forgettable and the building itself to be interchangeable with a hospital or a university building. He likens the space inside to an aircraft hanger, overemphasizing neutrality to avoid upstaging the artworks within(1). I think the word hanger should be reserved for spaces like the Shed that create a lot of dead space. In terms of ʻblandness,ʼ the building makes up for it with its balconies and outdoor staircase that spans 3 floors, offering visitors a break from the visual fatigue they might encounter when exploring the artworks.
Moreover, in the age of iconic museum architecture, as seen by Zaha Hadid and Frank Gehry, the Whitneyʼs design provided a much-needed break. One that allows the building to blend into the cityscape that appears inviting to the visitors. One that allows the artworks to speak for themselves without contending with the visual language of the architect. More importantly, the horizontal floor plan offers more freedom for curation, which made the captivating pediment-like screen possible in the Edges of Ailey exhibition (figure 3).
Speaking of the artworks, letʼs turn our attention to my fragmented observations on the exhibition on the 7th floor of the Whitney Museum. It features canonical artworks that are important to the Whitney Museumʼs foundation as the introduction texts are explicitly celebratory of founder Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney's eye for collecting modern and contemporary art. Some galleries are organized thematically in terms of art movements while others are organized monographically according to important artists. Thereʼs a space for temporary exhibitions which highlights other works in the permanent collection and adds dynamism to the floor that houses the canon. Wanda Gágʼs World was on view in this space when we visited. Her lithograph prints are captivating as she bestows movement upon the mundane objects we encounter. Their place in the real world is marked by the defined contours, while their rhythmic movements are highlighted by the warping and pulsating lines. The theatricism is further accentuated by the contrast of light and shadows (figure 4).
Figure 4. Wanda Gág, Macy's Stairway, 1940–41. Figure 5. Edward Hopper, Soir Bleu, 1914, Oil on Canvas,
Lithograph, 11 7/8 × 16 1/16 in. (30.2. × 40.8 cm). Whitney 36 1/8 × 71 15/16in. (91.8 × 182.7 cm). Whitney Museum
Museum of American Art. of American Art
The exhibition also allowed me to spend some time with my favourite artwork of the excursion - Soir Bleu by Edward Hopper (figure 5). The most striking element of the painting is the dichromatic blues in the background, which is separated by a curved line. This serves to represent a tidal bore about to devour the variegated crowd seated in the cafe, thereby conveying the sense of movement in the streets in a minimalist manner. There is little spatial recession as the background appears as a backdrop, directing the focus towards the figures seated in front of the balustrade. The clown is the primary subject in the foreground, as his bright white attire differentiates him from the dark colors of the other figures. He is detached from the others as well, displaying an indifference to their actions. Upon closer examination, it becomes evident that the blues of the background are reflected on his attire, thereby establishing a connection between the clown and the real world, which is absent in the other figures. The clown's experience is designed to be relatable, as we are all immersed in the same world. Each of us possesses unique characteristics, just as the clown does with his distinctive attire. However, feelings of isolation may arise due to the lack of meaningful connections with others.
Jake Li is the Acquisitions Co-Chair of the Art Committee. Jake is currently pursuing a Master of Art History at the University of Toronto. He is passionate about the evolving art landscape in Toronto, current curatorial practices and the art business. As the co-chair of the Hart House Acquisitions Subcommittee, Jake is hoping expand his knowledge of the art scene and share the knowledge with fellow students.
Sources
Bevan, Robert. “Whitney Museum in Manhattan by Renzo Piano Building Workshop.” The Architectural Review, 25 Aug. 2015, www.architectural-review.com/today/is-the-anodyne-really-an-antidote-to-the-iconic.
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