Selves and Others: March 24–September 23, 2018
The works in the exhibition were created by artists including Claude Cahun, Rineke Dijkstra, Man Ray, Cindy Sherman, and Gillian Wearing, among many others.
Digital Fusion Media produced interpretive signage for the Mark di Suvero exhibition. The sculptures will be located at Crissy Field for one year (May 22, 2013 - May 26, 2014). Presented by SFMOMA in partnership with the National Park Service and the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy, the work includes eight monumentally scaled sculptures, dating from 1967 to 2012, celebrating five decades of work by the artist.
We went to SFMOMA on Tuesday night for a preview of "Christian Marclay: The Clock." In this 24-hour video presentation, shown in a "theater" to spectators occupying sofas, Marclay has woven together hundreds of film clips that include images of clock faces showing specific times. Those chronological readings are identical to the real times at which spectators are watching the presentation. When I walked in, it was just before 8 p.m., and Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon were arguing, in "The Odd Couple," about some women Matthau had invited over to share a meal.
Marclay's concept is easy to grasp, and it's also mesmerizing. Most people at this preview-reception watched for at least an hour; a few admirers said they'd watched - at other installations - for 12 hours.
At a reception downstairs, I met Sabrina Brennan, a graphic designer (and harbor commissioner for San Mateo County) who had provided the 18-foot-tall drapery that converted the fourth-floor gallery into a theater space suitable for Marclay's piece.
She said she'd first come upon the work at the Biennale in Venice. "I was getting art overload, had seen enough," when she saw "a dark room with comfy couches." It was irresistible; she went in, plunked herself down and started doing e-mail.
Looking up after a while, "I suddenly noticed that the time in the film I was watching was matched up with the time on my iPad." This seemed such an amazing experience, almost religious, she said, "that I sought someone out, and asked, 'Have you noticed that the time in the film ...?' "
This revelation, of course, was at the core of Marclay's project. I was all ears. What was the person's response? "He didn't speak English," said Brennan. "I was on my own."
P.S.: Artist Marclay, who was asked at the reception about his favorite part of the day, said, "When I go to bed, and finally lie down." Fans who want to watch the whole project, though, won't be able to lie down. For them, there was one period of extended showings that started Thursday, and SFMOMA has scheduled five more; see the museum's website.
by Sabrina Brennan + TRACESF 2012.09.09 8:39pm
I recently had an opportunity to install a mural for the Cindy Sherman exhibition at SFMOMA, currently on view through October 8, 2012. Over the past 35 years, collectors and fans have had occasion to cringe as Sherman pushed the envelope of contemporary art to include social and bodily grotesqueries, as seen in the Horror and Surrealist Pictures (1994-96). My intention was to install Sherman’s mural perfectly, but given the technical challenges, a flawless execution was stressfully unpredictable. On the morning of the installation, the museum’s social media staffer snapped a few pictures for the Facebook page. When she asked, “What will happen if you damage the mural?,” I responded protectively, “Mistakes are not an option,” as if to prevent the unthinkable and deflect unsavory tweets.
Sherman moved from painting to photography in the mid-’70s when few women were successful in contemporary art, and painting and sculpture still dominated. Although the MoMA, opened in 1929, established a photo department in 1940, and the SFMOMA, opened in 1935 under then-director Grace L. McCann Morley, began collecting and exhibiting photographs almost from the beginning, risk-averse collectors were slower to warm to the new medium, preferring status-quo investments in traditional media. Today however, the acceptance of fine-art photography is evident through the market; last year, Sherman’s 1981 photo, “Untitled #96″ sold for $3.8 million at Christie’s. The winning bidder, Philippe Ségalot, a French-born art consultant and private dealer, paid almost twice what the photo was valued, making Sherman one of the best-paid photographers in the world.
My own photographic path crossed with Sherman’s when I arrived at the Atlanta College of Art in 1989 to study WPA photos from the late ‘30s and early ‘40s. I was a second year transfer from the University of South Alabama with an interest in documentary photography—unfavored by fledgling artists. At first I didn’t have much in common with the photo students who hovered around the darkroom on the 4th floor of the Woodruff Arts Center. They were moving away from realism into shadowy nether regions informed by artists such as Cindy Sherman, Nan Goldin, Andres Serrano, Joel-Peter Witkin, and Diane Arbus, among others. Sherman, unlike Annie Leibovitz, had no interest in photos that immortalized society’s elites. She was, moreover, not just an artist-for-the-people, but also a contemporary art leader and a successful businesswoman.
At the time, RuPaul was living in Atlanta and the local drag scene became the subject of my photography while I freelanced for Etcetera Magazine, a gay weekly. I also picked up work from a commercial photographer with Republican leanings, who asked me to park my black Chevy S-10 next to his black Chevy Silverado 1500. A breakthrough came when a fellow photo student developed a personality conflict with the staff photographer at Turner Broadcasting, and I was asked to interview for the position. When TBS made an “offer” for an unpaid internship, which I couldn’t afford, the Advertising Director found some money in her budget and put me to work shooting publicity events for World Championship Wrestling.
In similar fashion, I believe Sherman’s photographs, depicting herself in various social roles, are her way of expressing the need most us have to push apart the narrow parameters of daily life. She cooks up fictional characters from scratch that invite the viewer to develop a plot. The make-believe quality of the props and costumes deliver a steady stream of scenarios that wash away fixed narrative conclusions, allowing viewers to reinvent themselves. My enduring preference for still-photography to video is embodied by Sherman’s knack for presenting visual circumstances that require abrupt role-playing and trigger a reevaluation of one’s current self-identification. The work becomes a relentless moiré and offers an ocean of possibilities.
After finishing school in 1993 I packed up and drove my pickup to Northern California, renovated a barn on Bohemian Highway in Occidental, and sold camera equipment at a shop in Santa Rosa. A year later I moved to San Francisco and experienced firsthand the transition away from film and photographic printing to slightly less toxic forms of digital printing. In 1998 I founded a digital printing company, and in 2009 I told my wife that Richard Avedon’s magnificent Dovima with Elephants was the most elegant image I might ever work on. When the Avedon Foundation approved the print (104″ wide x 131″ high), my production skills—which dated back to a magnet school darkroom in Prichard, Alabama—felt validated.
As excited as I was about the Avedon project, the recent Sherman mural brought me face-to-face with the wizard of contemporary masques. Sherman works alone from her home studio in Tribeca without a photo assistant, makeup artist or stylist, and outsources her digital retouching, printing and installation.
When we began installing the mural, I was concerned that the low-tack adhesive fabric panels (228” high x 58.5” wide) might not bond well with the paint on the wall. Working under the microscope with a substrate specified by an artist can be nerve-wracking. The adhesive substrate is new on the market; the ink is exposed (un-laminated/unprotected) and it’s impossible to clean off the fabric because of its water-solubility. Adding to the challenge is the mural’s location in a high traffic area prone to scuffing on busy days.
In the week preceding the press preview, Cindy took up residency at the St. Regis and spent her days with curator Erin O’Toole, lead installer Kimberly Walton, and a good-looking crew of union installers and on-call artists. Margaret Lee, sculptor and full-time assistant to Sherman, was on-site throughout the mural install. Margaret worked alongside Jim Osterberg and myself as we positioned, trimmed and squeegeed the fabric to the wall. Cindy made friendly comments on her way in and out of the 4th floor galleries. A few visitors also stopped by for a preview. Cindy’s sister was in town from the southwest and showed me an early black and white work from her personal collection, on loan at SFMOMA. She also drew my attention to a Society portrait of two women, possibly sisters, which usually hangs in her own living room. Tom Heman, Cindy’s representative from Metro Pictures gallery in Chelsea, popped in for a walk through.
When we finished, Margaret Lee said we were the best mural installers she had ever worked with, and Erin O’Toole was thrilled to have everything completed in time for the press preview the following morning. Jim Osterberg and I had more to do; we moved to the Media Gallery to install the Tucker Nichols murals. Later that evening though, while my iphone photos were passed around the bar at Tom Marioni’s salon, I slumped in a chair, fatigued but satisfied that we had done justice to Cindy’s work.
Currently the curved, 47×18-foot mural is the first thing you see when stepping off the elevator onto the 4th floor at SFMOMA. The floor-to-ceiling piece includes black-and-white figures mixed with supersized color characters. Sherman meddles with scale, as three giants loom over a china-patterned landscape of Central Park. The watchful gaze of a woman in a full-length red gown follows viewers as they pass by. The formal landscape incorporates a texture of faux etching, giving it what digital imaging professionals describe as a ‘cheesy Photoshop effect.’
The mural characters lack makeup and prosthetics; instead Sherman chose to digitally manipulate facial features to create identities that stand boldly apart from the commercialized media faces that drive ad revenue and sell products. Where standard retouching aims to make a subject attractive, Sherman’s retouching does just the opposite.
The rest of the exhibit flows in reverse from the usual, with the last gallery to the right of the mural. Here, the Society Ladies stand ready to do battle. The demonic, bloodshot matrons are a vivid depiction of plastic surgeries gone awry beyond redemption. The scene at the SFMOMA Trustees’ dinner was striking, with socialites in the flesh joining Sherman’s Society Ladies. Before departing to the rooftop garden for dinner with the artist, an influential patron was overheard making an observation about the portraits: “The clothing looks cheap and dated.” Had this patron not been in a hurry for dinner, he might have observed that Sherman’s imagery is a devastating attack on superficial idolatries. The unconvincing costumes and contrived backdrops are part of what hardcore fans love about the work.
I myself am looking forward to the day Sherman does a series of pictures about political leaders.
SFGate . Carolyne Zinko, Chronicle Staff Writer . Monday, May 17, 2010
As an institution, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art is 75, but it has never been so young.
More than 1,200 people celebrated the art museum's birthday Friday, about 550 at a $50,000-a-table private dinner and several hundred others at an afterparty that lasted into the wee hours.
Renowned gallerists, museum directors, artists and art collectors from near and far - Robin Vousden, director of the Gagosian Gallery in London; Jeffrey Deitch, director of the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art; painter Cheyney Thompson of New York; and San Francisco sound sculptor Bill Fontana, to name a few - came to celebrate the accomplishments of the museum, one of the three oldest modern art museums in the country.
"This is the most ambitious modern art museum in North America," proclaimed Vousden. "Civilization tends to move west. It got to England in the 16th century and it's predominant in San Francisco in the 21st century. This is like England of Elizabeth I - it's the center of the world, for art, for technology, financial services, arts and architecture. The energy is here, it feels young and ambitious and has totally great art and totally great collectors."
"Innovation is deeply embedded in the DNA of the museum, in its history and its present," said SFMOMA Director Neal Benezra. "There is no other museum, honestly, with such bright prospects, and it's the product of a great community of support."
The depth of support was evidenced by the demand for tickets for the event, from well-established collectors such as Doris Fisher and her extended family to younger patrons such as Google's Marissa Mayer and Facebook's Mark Zuckerberg. "When I called people to ask them to buy tables," said party chairwoman Norah Stone, "nobody said no."
New York art dealer Ethan Wagner, attending with wife Thea Westreich, said that when he told friends he was going to San Francisco for the museum party, nobody believed him. "No you're not," they challenged him. "It's sold out." Stone and her husband, Norman, fun-loving characters known worldwide as much for their art collection as their joie de vivre, set a playful tone by requesting creative attire.
Charlotte and George Shultz wore coats made of digitally printed fabric with newspaper stories about SFMOMA.
Philanthropist Cissie Swig wore a headpiece adorned with butterflies. Norah Stone wore a hat made in the likeness of the museum's skylight, by New York designer Patricia Underwood. And London art dealer friend Ivor Braka came with drippy black eye makeup a la shock rocker Alice Cooper. Decor man Stanlee Gatti set a chic, spare tone adorning each table with a wood-block centerpiece spelling "SFMOMA" and a single gerbera daisy tucked inside.
There were other artistic creations - catered food by McCalls, the avant-garde music of headliners the Brazilian Girls, and birthday cakes galore in chocolate, fruit and violet by Elizabeth Faulkner, butter cake with strawberries poached in Lillet and vanilla bean with lemon verbena Swiss meringue by Caitlin Freeman, and croquembouche by Gerhard Michler.
But the best artistic endeavor of the night belonged to interior designer Sunny Merry and her mother, Jamie Jackson, a rancher. They put on wigs and had their faces painted with dots earlier in the day at the MAC cosmetic store on Union Street. The result was a Roy Lichtenstein painting come to life.
"I saw it on a Web site at Halloween," Merry said, "but I waited until tonight to do it."