Debunking the Masterpiece Myth
Image, painting and me in between
I oftentimes mark time during my very many museum visits to observe and study … not just the paintings and works of art on display. My attention has been very many times captured by endless hoards of visitors passing hurriedly by to encounter the masterpiece on display. I would just stand there, observing reactions and behaviour from a distance, as visitors pile up to see the masterpiece, crowding behind barriers to get a glimpse of what they could have easily seen better in art books and publications, lured by the ambition to see the real thing albeit from a distance. The promise of a better image in publications is mentally brushed aside as smart phones and tablets come in handy as never before to immortalise that very moment when standing infront of the real thing has to be unquestionably captured. Why do so many behave this way? Is it just a question of the ‘I was there’ syndrome or is there more to this?
It is oftentimes the case that many visit museums for the sake of ticking mental boxes next to text which reads ‘I saw it’ or ‘Seen’. The masterpiece is a good yardstick to go by. Indeed, a visit to the Louvre also means having seen the Mona Lisa, and the Sistine Chapel is a must when visiting the Vatican Museums. Rembrandt’s Night Watch is a must at the Rijksmuseum and the British Museum can boast the luxury of proposing more than one key masterpiece, although I still think that the Parthenon Marbles or as more commonly known, the Elgin Marbles, still hold primacy as the museum’s masterpiece collection.
The masterpiece gives the comfort of a secure traction to the museum institution which holds it and many have put in place fast-track signage for those who are keen on visiting just that. Product development becomes easy to handle and museums oftentimes find it tempting to adopt the masterpiece as their branding identity. This is the case of Carlo Scarpa’s Palazzo Abatellis in Palermo. A would stand for excellence as much as for Abatellis and Antonello da Messina whose Annunciation, a masterpiece in its own right, is thus recognised as the lynchpin image.
Let me set the record straight. My thoughts are not about questioning the relevance and significance of the masterpiece. I only seek to question the dialectic between museum collections and the masterpiece and whether this relationship should still take centrestage in the 21st century museum. Frankly, a masterpiece does not need a museum collection, certainly not as much as the museum needs the masterpiece to gain traction and raise visitor numbers.
If we go by what the Manifesto for the Future of Museums, launched in 2014 by the team leading the discussion platform Museums Showoff claims, the 21st century museum will have less to do with the masterpiece and the superficial traction of a bucket list visit that it generally holds, and more to do with the public, irrespective of whether there is a masterpiece or not and, in any case, beyond having the masterpiece as the main traction for visitors to the museum. I think this statement from the Manifesto for the Future of Museums says it all.
“In 2034, the most important things in any museum will be the visitors. The museum will still be a place to house material culture, and objects will still have a central role to play, but museums will be sites to spark off conversations. Museums will recognise that as sites of dialogue they have a responsibility to encourage, facilitate and enable evolving conversations.’
Should we then rethink the visitor experience of the 21st century museum institution without the masterpiece as its lynchpin? is there an issue with acknowledging the authoritative voice of the masterpiece within the context of collections and display that aspire to encourage, facilitate and enable evolving conversations?
The aura of the masterpiece oftentimes constitutes a mental block to appreciate and understand it … Indeed, you might have read all about it but you do get that spontaneous, oftentimes instantaneous reaction — is this it? is that all? This is oftentimes the reaction of those who would have consumed imagery of a particular masterpiece without taking note of its scale and size. This mental image is oftentimes also informed by myths and histories. Jackson Pollock’s masterpiece painting for Peggy Guggenheim, thought to have been painted in just one night is one of these myths that keep on perpetrating inspite of being proved unquestionably wrong.
… and sometimes, the idea of the masterpiece or the mental image that we hold differs from the real thing. This reminds me very much of when the comedian Charles Chaplin took part in a Chaplin look-alike competition and ranked twentieth! yes… twentieth! The mental image of the masterpiece oftentimes differs from the real thing and this is not just a question of size or form.
After having read this piece, you may still be keen on the masterpiece! … and you would be perfectly entitled to do that. It will still be like eating the cherry on the cake and missing out on the rest of the cake underneath the tick coating of icing sugar. In any case, if you’re keen on going for the cake besides the icing sugar, you would not need the cherry on top. Encountering the masterpiece objectively, beyond the aura that oftentimes surrounds it, informs the ambition of a personal encounter with an artwork that the 21st century museum aspires to promote.
