Les Femmes du Maroc: Revisited #1, Lalla Essaydi, 2009, chromogenic print. Image courtesy the artist
Back then, "I was put off to the depths of my being," Nochlin said of Gérôme's paintings at a recent panel discussion here at the Getty in conjunction with the exhibition The Spectacular Art of Jean-Léon Gérôme.
Works such as The Snake Charmer, said Nochlin, manifested an imperialist, colonialist view of the East, with their representations of a timeless world seen through white eyes—yet allegedly absent of Western influence.
And yet, Nochlin now admits that she was also seduced by these paintings, with their dazzling surfaces and cinematic storytelling. Today, Nochlin argues that Gérôme, who has been dismissed for these kinds of portrayals, is worth reconsidering for his other virtues.
Looking at Gérôme's objectifying depictions of women—a prominent example is the painting For Sale (The Slave Market), in which a naked female slave is inspected by a potential buyer—Nochlin, while still horrified, now gives Gérôme the benefit of the doubt. She wondered aloud whether Gérôme, with these "over-the-top" depictions of the East, was intentionally creating an obviously exaggerated fantasy of possession. "Gérôme didn't really think this was real, did he?," she asked.
In any case, Gérôme’s paintings are more complicated than simply "West objectifying East," emphasized art historian Mary Roberts. She pointed out that Middle Eastern artists, such as Turkish painter Osman Hamdi Bey, used much the same imagery as Gérôme. And several Ottoman sultans collected Orientalist works by Gérôme and others.
Another view came from Lalla Essaydi, a contemporary artist from Morocco. Like Nochlin, she admitted to a love-hate relationship with Gérôme's Orientalist paintings. While aesthetically beautiful, she said, their depictions of nude women in public are deeply upsetting within Middle Eastern culture—a culture in which the mere appearance of women in public is a complicated matter.
The question isn't purely academic, either. Essaydi pointed out that Western depictions of the Orient have had a real impact on the Middle East. For example, she told the audience that the veil was introduced to protect women from the Western gaze. She noted that in Morocco, the veil was not popular when she was a child—but has become more and more so since 9/11.
In her own work, Essaydi aims to return dignity and self-determination to the women she depicts. Some of her images draw directly upon Orientalist tropes, such as the odalisque, common to Western imagery.
Westerners imagining the Orient as a distant place frozen in time may be an old story, but these kinds of Orientalist images are still prevalent in our visual culture today. Movies such as Eat Pray Love, Syriana, and Prince of Persia have been criticized for their caricatures of Asia, a continent that sometimes seems to exist for the sole purpose of helping rich white people find themselves.
Tags: art history, colonialism, Jean-Léon Gérôme, Lalla Essaydi, Linda Nochlin, Mary Roberts, Orientalism
Suzanne Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, Jacques-Louis David, 1804
David was as political an artist as ever lived. He was a leader of the French Revolution, a prominent member of the radical Jacobin party, and a close friend of leader (and infamous tyrant) Maximilien Robespierre. He organized over-the-top propaganda festivals for France’s new republic. He even did jail time for his role in the Reign of Terror.
David’s revolutionary fervor was sincere. His portrait of Suzanne Le Peletier, painted in 1804, is a symbol of the sacrifices many French families made for the creation of the republic. Suzanne’s father, Michel Le Peletier, was a revolutionary who was murdered by a bodyguard after voting for Louis XVI’s execution. Suzanne became an instant celebrity after the assassination, transforming into France’s official “daughter of the state.”
Napoleon took interest in David after seeing a painting he completed in jail. Far from sinking into obscurity under France’s new ruler, David rose to exalted status as his First Painter. Ten years later, Napoleon fell and the monarchy returned to power—but David, who like Le Peletier had voted for the death of Louis XVI, was not only granted amnesty, but asked to become court painter yet again. He instead chose self-imposed exile in Brussels, spending his final years training young painters and living peacefully with his wife.
The Sisters Zénaïde and Charlotte Bonaparte, Jacques-Louis David, 1821
In his later work, David favored ancient Greek themes over the Roman subjects of his revolutionary days. Painted when he was nearly 70, The Farewell of Telemachus and Eucharis depicts the tale of Telemachus, a character in Homer’s Odyssey, who wants to remain on Calypso’s island with the nymph Eucharis. Though he longs to stay, Telemachus knows he must continue his quest for his father, Odysseus.
The Farewell of Telemachus and Eucharis, Jacques-Louis David, 1818
David died in 1825, just six years after Géricault awed the Salon with his Raft of the Medusa, signaling the rise of Romanticism and the wane of Neoclassicism. Story goes that he was struck by a carriage while walking home from the theater. Not a very glamorous end for the onetime pageant-master of the French Revolution, but perhaps fitting for a man who retained to the last his belief in liberté, égalité, fraternité.
Tags: birthdays, French art, Jacques-Louis David, Neoclassicism
New York City from Black in White America, Leonard Freed, 1963. © Leonard Freed / Magnum Photos, Inc.
But as I read this speech, I became confused and angry. Every day at school, I recited the Pledge of Allegiance, which promised that we in the United States are free and equal. All of us. And yet this speech was telling me otherwise.
As I kept reading, I had an awakening, a realization that the ideal world I’d grown up in wasn’t so perfect. I realized that the ideas behind our country's founding were just that—ideas. They were dreams, hopes. Not reality. Not yet, at least.
But as I continued to read, my anger changed to hope, to a sense that the dream could become a part of the real America. And I knew I would have to make sure that I did my part to make it so.
It's the 47th anniversary of the March on Washington, where Martin Luther King gave his “I Have a Dream” speech from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
Photographer Leonard Freed was there on that day, capturing the historic moment in the capitol. Seeing his pictures in the exhibition Engaged Observers: Documentary Photography since the Sixties reminded me of that shiver of awakening 30 years ago. You can see more of Freed's work during this period in his pioneering photo essay Black in White America.
Much has changed. But these images, and today’s anniversary, remind me that we all still have work to do.
Washington, D.C. from Black in White America, Leonard Freed, 1963. © Leonard Freed / Magnum Photos, Inc.
Tags: documentary photography, Engaged Observers, history, Leonard Freed, Martin Luther King Jr., photographs
Leading Spotlight Talks was one of my many tasks as a Multicultural Undergraduate Intern in the Education Department at the Getty Villa this summer. These talks are interactive discussions between an educator and visitors about one object at the Museum. Every month, a different artwork is highlighted, and during the month of August, the monumental Greek vase known as the Gela Krater is the focus.
The Gela Krater isn’t part of the Villa’s permanent collection—it’s on loan from the Museo Archeologico Regionale in Sicily. Therefore, it had no extensive object file with background information and teaching suggestions, so I had to be especially resourceful when developing my talk. I realized that in order to facilitate an interesting and substantive 15-20 minute discussion about the vase, I’d have to get creative.
I began to research the context of the artwork, such as how vases were made in antiquity, as well as the myths represented on the vase. The Gela Krater includes images of an Amazonomachy (battle between Amazons and Greeks), the hero Herakles, and centaurs, which makes for an exciting story to discuss with Museum visitors.
When I lead the talk, I first ask visitors to take time to look at the work so they can form their own relationship with it. This step is especially important with the Gela Krater because it’s so large (over two and a half feet tall), and because its display in the center of Stories of the Trojan War (Gallery 110) encourages visitors to walk all around it. This allows them a moment to consider the object and to formulate questions and opinions about it.
I also incorporate “touchable” materials from a wonderful collection of objects developed by the Education Department. These are materials that visitors can touch in order to learn about art in a more tactile way. For this artwork, I often pass around a replica of a vase fragment to show the interior of a vessel, as well as different kinds of brushes that would have be used to paint vases in ancient times. I even show a tiny brush with only a single hair—a mouse whisker!
This experience has made me realize that it takes a lot of work to teach in the galleries. I’m grateful that I was given the opportunity to teach in a museum, especially with an object as exciting as this remarkable vase.
Although my internship has just ended, Spotlight Talks on the Gela Krater continue through the end of August, and the vase is on view through October 11. Come by and get to know it for yourself!
View of Stories of the Trojan War (Gallery 110) at the Getty Villa featuring the Mixing Vessel with Greeks Battling Amazons (the Gela Krater), Greek, 475–450 B.C., attributed to the Niobid Painter. Museo Archeologico Regionale, Agrigento, Sicily
I began to research the context of the artwork, such as how vases were made in antiquity, as well as the myths represented on the vase. The Gela Krater includes images of an Amazonomachy (battle between Amazons and Greeks), the hero Herakles, and centaurs, which makes for an exciting story to discuss with Museum visitors.
Detail of a fallen Amazon on the Mixing Vessel with Greeks Battling Amazons (the Gela Krater), Greek, 475–450 B.C., attributed to the Niobid Painter. Museo Archeologico Regionale, Agrigento, Sicily
I also incorporate “touchable” materials from a wonderful collection of objects developed by the Education Department. These are materials that visitors can touch in order to learn about art in a more tactile way. For this artwork, I often pass around a replica of a vase fragment to show the interior of a vessel, as well as different kinds of brushes that would have be used to paint vases in ancient times. I even show a tiny brush with only a single hair—a mouse whisker!
This experience has made me realize that it takes a lot of work to teach in the galleries. I’m grateful that I was given the opportunity to teach in a museum, especially with an object as exciting as this remarkable vase. Although my internship has just ended, Spotlight Talks on the Gela Krater continue through the end of August, and the vase is on view through October 11. Come by and get to know it for yourself!
Tags: gallery programs, gallery tours, Gela Krater, Greek art, interns, Multicultural Undergraduate Intern Program, Spotlight Talks, vase-painting
Two views of Venice's Grand Canal in the Getty Center's South Pavilion galleries. At left, Canaletto's The Grand Canal, Venice, from Palazzo Flangini to the Church of San Marcuola, painted around 1738, on loan from a private collection. At right, Francesco Guardi's The Grand Canal, Venice, with the Palazzo Bembo, painted around 1768, from the J. Paul Getty Museum's collection
Picture this: You’re in the 18th century taking a Grand Tour across Europe, making all the “in” stops such as France and Italy. Before heading back home, you have one final task: buying souvenirs! You’ve taken fencing lessons in Paris, seen the historic ruins in Rome, and navigated the Alps, so what do you bring back to remember this monumental adventure?
Today, the most popular souvenirs are postcards—we sold over 130,000 of them at the Getty Center Museum Store last year. Chloë Simon, Museum Stores manager, told me, “It’s not unusual for customers to purchase 10 to 20 postcards at one time, often as souvenirs of their favorite works of art in the Museum.”
In the 18th century, before the advent of photography, among the most sought-after souvenirs were paintings of popular European landmarks and views. They were most fashionable in Venice, where two painters in particular made their success. Giovanni Antonio Canal, better known as Canaletto, and Francesco Guardi made their marks as vedutisti, or view painters. Their canvases were especially popular among British tourists making their stop in Venice as a part of their European tour.
The Getty is lucky to have a view of Venice’s Grand Canal by Guardi in our permanent collection, as well as one by Canaletto that’s on loan through summer 2011. These vedute are particularly interesting because they both depict the same section of the canal. While Guardi’s painting looks toward the west, Canaletto’s faces the east. A few key buildings—such as the now-vanished Palazzo Bembo—are represented in both, from different angles. Palazzo Flangini, at left in the Canaletto, appears in the Guardi on the right side of the canal in the middle distance; it's identifiable by its darkened facade.
The Grand Canal, Venice, from Palazzo Flangini to the Church of San Marcuola, Canaletto, around 1738. Private collection
The Grand Canal, Venice, with the Palazzo Bembo, Francesco Guardi, about 1768
Tags: Canaletto, collection, Francesco Guardi, Italian art, loans, postcards, souvenirs
Tonight is the Miss Universe pageant, in which contestants vied for a title and a Trump Tower apartment by donning swimsuits, evening gowns, and out-there costumes. (Update—Mexico won.)
But beauty queens are just so bland compared to the women that painters, photographers, and sculptors have captured in their work. Here, our nominees for an alternative pageant—one celebrating strength and wisdom over youth and bikinis.
An Old Woman with a Cat
Max Lieberman, 1878
This woman’s hands have seen decades of toil, but are still capable of great tenderness.
Woman, Patzcuaro, Mexico
Paul Strand, 1933
Strand liked to photograph “people who have strength and dignity in their faces.” She has both.
Head of Athena
Greek, Asia Minor, 160–150 B.C.
Athena lost out to Aphrodite in the world’s first beauty contest, but so what? She still had wisdom and war strategy on her side.
Young Italian Woman at a Table
Paul Cézanne, 1895–1900
Her sadness and distant gaze have a melancholy beauty.
Got a nominee of your own? We’d love to hear about her.
But beauty queens are just so bland compared to the women that painters, photographers, and sculptors have captured in their work. Here, our nominees for an alternative pageant—one celebrating strength and wisdom over youth and bikinis.
An Old Woman with a Cat
Max Lieberman, 1878
This woman’s hands have seen decades of toil, but are still capable of great tenderness.
Woman, Patzcuaro, Mexico
Paul Strand, 1933
Strand liked to photograph “people who have strength and dignity in their faces.” She has both.
© Aperture Foundation
Head of Athena
Greek, Asia Minor, 160–150 B.C.
Athena lost out to Aphrodite in the world’s first beauty contest, but so what? She still had wisdom and war strategy on her side.
Young Italian Woman at a Table
Paul Cézanne, 1895–1900
Her sadness and distant gaze have a melancholy beauty.
Got a nominee of your own? We’d love to hear about her.
Tags: portraits, television, women
When I walked into the Getty ten weeks ago, I could never have expected all the amazing experiences that I’d have this summer as the intern in the Web Group. During my internship, I’ve done everything from interviewing Getty staff for the Iris, to building Web pages, to dancing the electric slide at Getty Underground.
It’s been great working with all of the fantastic people in the Communications Department, as well as meeting the other 14 wonderful interns who have made this summer unforgettable. Today may be the last day of our internship, but I think I speak for all the interns when I say that this is not the last the Getty will see of us!
Jamie Kwan | Museum, Department of Photographs
Amazing moment: Meeting Conan O'Brien on the tram.
Unexpected lesson: Helping with the installation of Engaged Observers. It was a great behind-the-scenes look at how an exhibition goes up and all the work involved.
Melissa Liu | Getty Foundation, Grants Programming
Amazing moment: Seeing the development of Pacific Standard Time, which will be a milestone in Southern California art history.
Unexpected lesson: All Getty employees are young at heart and possess secret talents. I was surprised to learn that my co-workers are all great cooks and foodies.
Lauren James | Getty Research Institute, Department of Architecture & Contemporary Art
Amazing moment: Being introduced to a GRI colleague who used to work in the film industry. She’s helping me with networking and making my résumé more presentable.
Unexpected lesson: How much I enjoyed digging through the GRI’s special collections. It was like detective work, and it was so satisfying to find what I’d spent hours looking for.
Carolyne Hoey | Getty Conservation Institute, Communications Department
Amazing moment: Finally finishing our video on the Conservation of the Valley of the Queens and showing it at a staff screening. It's nice to come away with a final product that I can be proud of. And getting to know the other interns so well! Having a group to share stories, eat lunch, or just chat—it enhanced the experience a lot.
Unexpected lesson: Conservation work is more interdisciplinary than I thought. I was excited to find out that art, science, history, documentation, and management all come together in one field.
Jasmine Magaña | Museum, Getty Center Education Department
Amazing moment: Giving a tour—I got to do my own research and be part of a great conversation. On top of that, I was able to work past my nerves. Also, my supervisors inviting me to a “meeting” that was actually a birthday celebration.
Unexpected lesson: There are lots of career options in museums—and the great thing was that I learned it from people who have gone through it before.
Yvonne Danh | Museum, Getty Center Education Department
Amazing moment: Being able to walk around the galleries. I really enjoyed going on tours with our very own talented gallery teachers and curators.
Unexpected lesson: Learning about the Getty’s abundant resources and the inner workings of the Museum Education Department.
Amanda Wada | Museum, Getty Villa Education Department
Amazing moment: Being personally thanked by visitors who came on my tour of the Gela Krater, which made me feel like all my hard work really paid off!
Unexpected lesson: Commuting for two hours, in addition to working a lot, made me appreciate sleep.
Lindsay Ward | Museum, Department of Paintings
Amazing moment: Actually enjoying the tour I gave on the Gérôme exhibition. I'm usually so afraid of public speaking, but I really enjoyed taking people around the galleries. Also, eating pizza at my supervisor's house. It offered me a chance to hear what curators' lives are like outside of work.
Unexpected lesson: How to research family crests and heraldry that appear on wax seals on the backs of paintings. It was really interesting and totally different from anything I've learned before.
Marie Faye Barrera | Museum, Department of Sculpture and Decorative Arts
Amazing moment: Observing the re-installation of the West Pavilion. Also, watching people pose like Maillol’s Air on the Museum steps.
Unexpected lesson: It’s not easy to write those little 75-word labels you see in the galleries. Quite a bit of research goes into them.
It’s been great working with all of the fantastic people in the Communications Department, as well as meeting the other 14 wonderful interns who have made this summer unforgettable. Today may be the last day of our internship, but I think I speak for all the interns when I say that this is not the last the Getty will see of us!
Jamie Kwan | Museum, Department of Photographs
Amazing moment: Meeting Conan O'Brien on the tram.
Unexpected lesson: Helping with the installation of Engaged Observers. It was a great behind-the-scenes look at how an exhibition goes up and all the work involved.
Melissa Liu | Getty Foundation, Grants Programming
Amazing moment: Seeing the development of Pacific Standard Time, which will be a milestone in Southern California art history.
Unexpected lesson: All Getty employees are young at heart and possess secret talents. I was surprised to learn that my co-workers are all great cooks and foodies.
Lauren James | Getty Research Institute, Department of Architecture & Contemporary Art
Amazing moment: Being introduced to a GRI colleague who used to work in the film industry. She’s helping me with networking and making my résumé more presentable.
Unexpected lesson: How much I enjoyed digging through the GRI’s special collections. It was like detective work, and it was so satisfying to find what I’d spent hours looking for.
Carolyne Hoey | Getty Conservation Institute, Communications Department
Amazing moment: Finally finishing our video on the Conservation of the Valley of the Queens and showing it at a staff screening. It's nice to come away with a final product that I can be proud of. And getting to know the other interns so well! Having a group to share stories, eat lunch, or just chat—it enhanced the experience a lot.
Unexpected lesson: Conservation work is more interdisciplinary than I thought. I was excited to find out that art, science, history, documentation, and management all come together in one field.
Jasmine Magaña | Museum, Getty Center Education Department
Amazing moment: Giving a tour—I got to do my own research and be part of a great conversation. On top of that, I was able to work past my nerves. Also, my supervisors inviting me to a “meeting” that was actually a birthday celebration.
Unexpected lesson: There are lots of career options in museums—and the great thing was that I learned it from people who have gone through it before.
Yvonne Danh | Museum, Getty Center Education Department
Amazing moment: Being able to walk around the galleries. I really enjoyed going on tours with our very own talented gallery teachers and curators.
Unexpected lesson: Learning about the Getty’s abundant resources and the inner workings of the Museum Education Department.
Amanda Wada | Museum, Getty Villa Education Department
Amazing moment: Being personally thanked by visitors who came on my tour of the Gela Krater, which made me feel like all my hard work really paid off!
Unexpected lesson: Commuting for two hours, in addition to working a lot, made me appreciate sleep.
Lindsay Ward | Museum, Department of Paintings
Amazing moment: Actually enjoying the tour I gave on the Gérôme exhibition. I'm usually so afraid of public speaking, but I really enjoyed taking people around the galleries. Also, eating pizza at my supervisor's house. It offered me a chance to hear what curators' lives are like outside of work.
Unexpected lesson: How to research family crests and heraldry that appear on wax seals on the backs of paintings. It was really interesting and totally different from anything I've learned before.
Marie Faye Barrera | Museum, Department of Sculpture and Decorative Arts
Amazing moment: Observing the re-installation of the West Pavilion. Also, watching people pose like Maillol’s Air on the Museum steps.
Unexpected lesson: It’s not easy to write those little 75-word labels you see in the galleries. Quite a bit of research goes into them.
What do you do at the Getty?
I manage the Getty Vocabulary Program.
You probably want to know what that is! We compile databases of terminology that allow people to catalog art and to retrieve information about it. I’ve worked on vocabularies for the Getty since 1985.
What databases are in the Vocabulary Program?
We produce four vocabularies. The Art & Architecture Thesaurus (AAT) is the oldest and perhaps the most famous one. It’s been covered in university library schools for many years, and it’s often cited as a model of best practice for how to build a thesaurus according to national and international standards.
We also produce the Union List of Artist Names (ULAN) and the Getty Thesaurus of Geographic Names (TGN), and we're developing a new vocabulary that will be introduced to contributors in 2011. It’s called the Cultural Objects Name Authority (CONA), and it will collect the titles and names of works of art and architecture, such as the Mona Lisa or Empire State Building.
What else goes into managing the Vocabulary Program?
We also work on standards advising people how to catalog art works in museums, art libraries, archives, visual resources collections, and such. We’ve published the Categories for the Description of Works of Art (CDWA)—I was co-editor with Murtha Baca of the Getty. I also co-edited Cataloging Cultural Objects (CCO), which was published by the American Library Association in print form. But most of our vocabularies and standards are published online because they’re so huge; they really can’t be published in book form.
I, and sometimes the other editors, give presentations and conduct training workshops at conferences throughout the year. The training materials are very extensive, and are available on our Web site. I also write the editorial rules and informational Web pages for the Getty vocabularies. I just wrote a book that was published earlier this year, Introduction to Controlled Vocabularies: Terminology for Art, Architecture, and Other Cultural Works. It’s apparently being used as a textbook in some library schools, among its other uses. But I always like to take time out to do actual editorial work in the databases myself, when I have time.
Are these vocabularies used at other institutions beyond the Getty?
Yes. They’re licensed by institutions and businesses that build cataloging systems—both not-for-profits such as universities and museums and for-profit companies that use them in cataloging and retrieval systems. For example, Gallery Systems, whose TMS software is used by the Museum and the GRI, licenses the Getty vocabularies. Their users then have access to the vocabularies when they’re cataloging works of art.
How do you create a vocabulary system?
We have a very small staff, so we rely on contributions from the user community to create the Getty vocabularies.
For example, if a museum or a visual resources collection has a large set of artists’ names that they’d like to use for retrieval and indexing, they contribute it to the Union List of Artist Names and it becomes a part of the bigger product.
One of our current goals is to find contributors who have good quality data that will help increase the number of languages and cultures represented in these vocabularies. We guide contributors in mapping their data to our standard import format. Much of our daily work involves incorporating that contributed data and making sure it meets our standards.
But you asked how we create a vocabulary “system.” There are nine or more custom systems in place that allow us to import data, do our editorial work, clean up data, and publish the data. These systems were built and are maintained by dedicated people in Getty ITS departments, including talented software architects and software engineers.
What kinds of people contribute to the vocabularies?
Our contributors are typically from Getty projects (at the Getty Research Institute, Museum, and Getty Conservation Institute) or outside institutions or consortia that collect artworks or information about art and architecture. While curators and scholars occasionally contribute directly, we primarily receive the contributions from the people who serve the information needs of those curators. For example, people at a registrar’s office who have to accumulate artists’ names, people who help organize information for exhibitions or publications, people who catalog books, articles, and visual resources, people in information services who need to retrieve art information, and so on.
Occasionally we also get e-mails from scholars or members of the public who say, “Hey, you should add such-and-such as a variant name for this archaeological site, because it was also known by this name in a given period.” We’re happy to add these names.
What is the editing process like?
We process contributions, edit information, and do research on artists, geographic places, art terms, and works of art and architecture. Some of the processing tasks may be repetitive, but the research component of the job makes it interesting. What does it take to be a vocabulary editor?
To be a vocabulary editor, it takes a person who enjoys focused research; most of our editors have had an advanced degree, either in art or architectural history or in a related field. Many also have a degree in library science. Knowledge of at least one foreign language is also important. They have to be comfortable using technology.
However, for the type of work we do, it’s more important that the editor has the personality to enjoy small research projects, to carefully follow detailed rules, and to produce a specified number of records in a designated time. While we don’t have frequent firm deadlines like other publication professions, we do aim to meet weekly quotas and have regular publication dates throughout the year.
How deep does your research have to go to make sure everything is accurate?
It depends on the initial accuracy and thoroughness of the contribution. It also depends on whether information for the concept for AAT—person, artwork, or geographic plac—is complex or simple, and whether the record is deemed very important for art history or of peripheral importance. For example, for a record on Florence, Italy, or Vincent van Gogh, we’d spend considerable time making sure we’ve done comprehensive research and listed all the pertinent variant names, etc. But for many other records, we only have time to make sure that the minimal data from our contributors is consistent and correct.So the amount of research required is very different for different records, and it’s balanced against production goals.
Our task is somewhat easier now than it was ten years ago. Now we can do a lot of our research online, which makes things go faster—in the 1980s and 1990s, we had to look up information in books in the library. Now we continue to consult printed books and journal articles, but we can also search for certain information online, for example in Encyclopedia Britannica and Grove Art Online. That really helps.
Is it more difficult to work with artists’ names and artwork titles that aren’t in English?
It’s difficult in that it requires editors to have some knowledge of foreign languages. However, it’s more important that the editor understands how foreign languages work than to know 60 different foreign languages. Our terms and names may be in any language.
When we need additional help with foreign languages, we rely on experts. We go to someone else at the Getty, or someone in another institution for assistance in translations. An important primary focus for our work now is to increase the number of non-English terms and names. We’re working with several institutions in adding terms and names in other languages. For example, the AAT is being translated into Spanish, Dutch, German, and Chinese, and we already have partial translations in French and Italian.
How did you become interested in this field?
I have a PhD in art history. I went to Syracuse University and Indiana University; I majored in Italian Renaissance and medieval art history. I published a catalogue raisonné on the 14th-century Sienese artist Bartolo di Fredi. A catalogue raisonné requires standardization of information and terms, and strict organization of the material. While doing that research, I realized that I have a love for details (some might say “trivia”) and research. It’s the same type of work that I do now: investigating artists and art works and associated terminology.
What was your first job?
My first professional job was at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., where I worked in the Prints and Drawings Department. Among the projects I worked on was cataloging Rembrandt watermarks found on National Gallery prints and drawings. This involved creating terms for the watermark types and categorizing them.
How did you end up working at the Getty?
At that time the National Gallery was involved in two Getty projects; one involved investigating overlap between various museums’ cataloging practices, which until then hadn’t been truly documented. Another project involved developing standards for cataloging architectural drawings. Based on my other work, people at the National Gallery who were involved in these projects thought I’d have an aptitude for the comparison and documentation of cataloging—so they asked me to take part. That’s how I first came to work for the Getty. I worked first as a representative of the National Gallery, and then was hired by the Getty.
View from Getty Research Institute to the sea
View of the path down the hill at the Getty Center
While all the views I encounter within the Getty are stunning, due to Meier's perfect architecture, I actually have two favorite views from the Getty Center. One is from the courtyard in front of the GRI where I work now, looking out in the direction of the ocean. On a clear, arid day, you can see all the way to the sea, to where I began my work with the Getty Vocabularies in Santa Monica, and also nearby, where the Villa is located. It reminds me of my first days in the Vocabulary Program, and the extraordinary work we've accomplished in the meantime.
My second favorite views from the Getty are the glimpses of nature I see when walking down the hill after work in the evening: the play of light and varied colors on the trees, a deer gazing from the shadows, hawks and crows soaring, finches flitting about, little lizards scampering across the trail, huge beetles waddling about.
That's a calming experience at the end of the day, as I organize in my mind the thousands of little details we attended to that day in our vocabulary work, and I mentally prepare for the tasks and steps for the next day on the road to accomplish our long-term goals.
A young male mule deer on the Getty Center hillside
Tags: career paths, careers, Vocabulary Program
“Focus is power,” said theater director Peter Sellars to a packed crowd at the American Association of Museums annual meeting earlier this year. Artworks can make you recognize things you instinctively knew but weren’t able to articulate. They bring ideas into focus. This recognition is empowering; when we can name an idea or emotion, we are compelled to deal with it.
Titled “Art as Social Action,” Sellars’s lecture emphasized the importance of nourishing the creative soul of each person. He identified creativity itself as an act of political rebellion, because ruling social systems do not want a populace of independent and critical thinkers. He suggested that if we could take the flame of creativity and spread it, the power would be deafening.
Sellars’s belief in the importance of art was palpable—and heartwarming. To him, an artist is a truth teller, willing to explore the dark and hidden parts of life and then share the results of this dangerous and exhilarating journey. As the keeper of artists’ works, the museum is not a house of decorations; it is a site for discovery, challenge, and revolution.
Renew yourself in the oasis of ideas and beauty—but don’t stop there, said Sellars. Take what you’ve learned and venture back into the messy, blinding world. You will see it with different eyes; you will question the status quo of politics, wars, advertisements, friendships. You will remove the veils and take action.
This journey of the artist, the search for subject and how to organize it into composition, is one I know well. Hours, days, weeks alone in the studio set the stage for contemplation and persistence.
But as a gallery teacher—as the person talking about art and ideas that someone else articulated, leading groups of visitors through bustling galleries for one hour—this noble goal of sparking epiphanies becomes harder to realize. How can I achieve clarity when visitors are immersed in so many stimuli?
For me, Sellars’s ability to move the crowd at AAM demonstrated a way. His oratory, shifting from whispers to shouts, and his descriptions of topics as personal as romantic relationships and as public as the prison system, was unpredictable and kept listeners eager to hear more. His words of love and acknowledgment of human hopes and disappointments beautifully addressed many things I’ve thought about—as he might say, “things I instinctively knew but hadn’t named.”
Those of us who work at museums need to make time to find the power in the objects and let it move through us. We need to talk to visitors about content we have recognized and, as Sellars suggests, “ask deep and beautiful questions,” for we so often find what we are looking for.
His inspiring words were heightened by a sparrow lost in the conference room. It became a metaphor for us. I wanted to tell it: Go out the double doors, down the hall; turn left and descend the stairs, the light will become stronger and show you the way outside, then you are free.
Tags: gallery teachers, gallery tours, Peter Sellars, philosophy
“What’s that?” is a common question in the Central Garden, a place full of exotic and curious plants. “James Cameron must have come here when he was dreaming up Avatar,” I recently overheard a visitor say while pointing to some unusual specimen. One of the most-asked-about plants is the one shown here, which blog reader Donna Martinez wrote to us about:
I visited the Getty last week and found a flower in the garden that I’m not familiar with. It appeared to be a vine, and if it didn't have any flowers I would have sworn it was a morning glory, but it had spikes of yellow orange and red. If anyone could tell me what this flower is, I would appreciate it.It is indeed a type of morning glory, which means it’s related to sweet potatoes and water spinach.
Have you guessed it? It's Spanish Flag (Ipomoea lobata), which is named after the red-and-yellow flag of Spain, making it an appropriate favorite for this World Cup year. Flowers emerge red and then gradually fade to orange, yellow, and white, creating a candy-corn effect.
Spanish Flag is an easy-to-grow annual that thrives on trellises in the bowl garden (around the azalea pool). “We plant it every spring in the same beds, and lasts about six months—it’ll still be blooming in September and October,” our horticulturist, Michael DeHart, told me. “Robert Irwin selected it way back in the beginning when he was designing the garden, and we redo it every year.”It’s easy to grow if you start it early in the spring, Michael says, and doesn’t get many pests—but snails like it, so look sharp for slime trails and nibble holes (see photo above to know what to look for!).
Despite its name, Spanish Flag is actually native to Mexico and South America, so it makes a bicentennial fit with Mexican heather (Cuphia hyssopifolia) and Mexican sage (Salvia leucantha), also found in the garden.
But what’s in a name? “It’s really colorful and it gets a lot of attention,” says Michael, “and that’s what the garden is about.”
Is there a mystery you'd like us to sleuth out? Leave a comment or contact us the old-fashioned way at blog@getty.edu.
Tags: Central Garden, gardening, horticulture, plants
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