MAINTAINING INNOVATION: SCALE, SUSTAINABILITY AND RESPECT
Originally printed in Risks of Maturing – Visions and Choices
Wanås Seminar October 3rd-5th, 2003
The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum is located In Ridgefield, Connecticut, which is a small town about an hour outside of New York City. We are a non-collecting Museum, with the mission to "be a national leader in the exhibition of significant and challenging contemporary art with an emphasis on emerging and mid-career artists.• Major projects in the last few years have involved a number of artists who have worked here at WanAs, including Ann Hamilton, Janine Antoni, Mathew McCaslin, and Roxy Paine.
My talk is about scale, sustainability, and respect in contemporary arts organizations. I believe that in order to thrive, contemporary arts organizations must adhere to a clearly defined mission. While the cult of the mission statement may be overly strong in America, I believe it is a good thing; that only by creatively adhering to a clearly defined mission can an institution thrive. This is not simply a platitude; to actually adhere to a mission of supporting emerging artists, institution grows, and its commitment to community, or its desire to be recognized by the art press, or the need to attract trustees or sponsorship increases, the willingness to take risks, to tear down the existing edifice in order to encourage new growth, becomes more difficult. Perhaps the best analogy is an apple tree - regular and aggressive pruning of the tree's branches is essential in order to create a healthy crop of apples. Perhaps the director of a contemporary arts organization should ask, "Am I devoted to nurturing apples, or to growing branches?" Keeping the scale of the institution small can allow adherence to the original mission, which is generally devotion to artists, risk-taking, and the viewer. These are the apples; the buildings, departments, committees are the branches.
Recent developments at The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum have put these precepts to the test. We are in the midst of a major construction and renovation project which includes demolishing a 1980s addition; the construction of a new building; and the final deaccession of the Museum's original collection. Our new building has been designed in contradistinction to many prevailing trends in the artworld: our primary concern was to design a building which has at its core respect for the artists we work with, respect for the art we exhibit, respect for the viewers we welcome, and respect for the long-term sustainability of the institution. An overriding theme in achieving these goals has been adhering to a small-scale approach. We have worked with the architect Charles Hay, of Tappe Associates in Boston, who has been a sensitive and skillful partner. Small-scale applies to many aspects of the project. Our construction budget is 7.5 million dollars. While this might be less than the cost overrun for the HVAC system for MoMA's expansion project, it Is an attainable number for The Aldrich; more importantly, it is a number which will allow us to simultaneously raise funds to increase our endowment. I am convinced that economic stability is a prerequisite for curatorial innovation and independence. To sustain the original, risk-taking impulses of the institution, it is essential to maintain a growing financial base. Small-scale also applies to the size of our building. As we started our project, we were not convinced that if we were twice as big that our exhibitions would be twice as good. Rather, we have set out to create a building which is open, accessible, and welcoming to viewers and visitors. From the entry sequence, to the location of elevator doors, to the placement of HVAC chiller units, we have tried to create a building which would make viewers feel at home and comfortable. We want a building which serves the viewer.
The intimate relationship of the building to existing specimen trees and the subtle unfolding of an interior viewing sequence in relationship to exterior views is an exercise in scale and proportion. In our project this is manifested in the one permanent installation in the new building, a camera obscura which literally brings the view of the exterior landscape into the new building. Wall text will help make the connection between Renaissance art-making to video projection today. The fact that the one permanent installation in the Museum is constantly changing, and Is beyond our control {the weather will determine the quality of the image) is an apt analogy for the faith we place in the viewing experience. It also demonstrates that we want a building which serves its location. Most importantly, we want a building which serves artists and the art they create. I am not at all convinced that the trend towards giganticism in art-exhibition spaces has been beneficial to artists. While certain projects require big rooms - and we will provide them, with one project space gallery featuring 22' ceilings - other projects benefit from Intimacy. We have tried to create galleries which will accommodate large scale sculpture; major video installations; straightforward wall works; a screening room; and, uniquely, a gallery designed to accommodate sound art. We are also creating a series of exterior exhibition opportunities on exterior walls, on the roof of the building, and in the grounds. In fact, the entire building, from the shop, which will only sell books and limited edition art works to the elevator, and the bathrooms, to the roof of the education center, is going to be a site for temporary art-installations. The building serves the art; not the other way around.
In closing, I must mention a rather catty piece about our project which ran in the Art Newspaper. The piece derided the arrogance of Museum directors - that would be me, in this case - for tearing down what the writer saw as perfectly adequate buildings. "Why," he asked, might not the next director just tear down this new building in twenty years?" Well, if pruning is in order, she might. The building is, after all, just a branch sustaining the apple. Even tn a place as spectacular as Wanas, it is essential to remember that nothing is forever; that creating a strong, vital context for the creation of art demands not only forethought but flexibility. After all, as one of the Truisms (1977 - 79) Jenny Holzer has chiseled into the stone wall here at Wanas says, "PLANNING FOR THE FUTURE IS ESCAPISM" (Wanas Wall, Jenny Holzer, 2002).
Thank you very much.