One of the most prominent features of art from the late eighteenth century onwards, particularly after World War II, is artists’ tendency to evolve traditional artmaking methods outside the studio’s boundaries. This exhibition will examine the ways in which contemporary artists enacted new ideas formed by the social and historical contexts of their time and pushed the boundaries of artmaking and materials as a result.     

"By Way Of" offers a suite of works from the museum’s permanent collection inspired by the D.Daskalopoulos Collection Gift. Major artists from the Arte Povera movement of the 1960s and 1970s, like Jannis Kounellis and Mario Merz will share the galleries with artists working today, such as Rashid Johnson, Mona Hatoum, and Senga Nengudi. 

"By Way Of: Material and Motion in the Guggenheim Collection" is organized by Naomi Beckwith, Deputy Director and Jennifer and David Stockman Chief Curator.

In this digital guide, receive an introduction to the exhibition from curator Naomi Beckwith and explore slow-looking exercises of select works on view.

Exhibition Website

By Way Of: Material and Motion in the Guggenheim Collection

The audio tour for John Chamberlain: Choices shares perspectives on select key works from the exhibition.
www.guggenheim.org/chamberlain

John Chamberlain's Involvement with Abstract Expressionism

Curator Naomi Beckwith shares insights on the exhibition and its themes.

Transcript
Naomi Beckwith: I am Naomi Beckwith, Deputy Director and Jennifer and David Stockman Chief Curator here at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum and Foundation. I’m thrilled to present "By Way Of: Material and Motion in the Guggenheim Collection," a show that features a small fraction of our holdings but which demonstrates the ways in which artists have made radical departures from the traditional definitions of art-making. 

This exhibition asks, Why would an artist like David Hammons, for instance, use food coloring instead of paint to make his own portrait? How do upcycled clothes—the way the artists Shinique Smith or Joseph Beuys utilizes them—represent the body? How can trash and discards—the way Abraham Cruzvillegas collects and reworks them—come to represent a notion of home? How can home be considered not just a place of nurture but actually a place of threat and danger? 

Art in "By Way Of" spans from the early 1960s to art made just a few years ago. This way of working—finding odd objects, finding unusual objects, and transforming them into artworks—is one that really finds its root in particular, in a movement coined by the Italian curator Germano Celant as Arte Povera. Arte Povera literally translates in English as “poor art.” Celant, the artists he championed, such as Piero Manzoni, or Pier Calzolari, Jannis Kounellis, or Mario Merz—all in view here in this exhibition—all believe that the value of art came from its idea and the way in which it was a reflection of the world around it. So, instead of using traditional materials such as wood, or marble, or bronze, or paint, they used the stuff they saw around them every day. Things like salt, or a natural material like ice, or clothing, even a motorcycle. All of these objects began to paint a picture of a society in Italy that was changing, that was moving from agricultural to industrial. 

That idea continues to animate so many artists working even today, especially working in the Global South, and African American artists in the United States. You see that especially in works by David Hammons, Abraham Cruzvillegas, Senga Nengudi, Rashid Johnson, Shinique Smith, and Mark Bradford.  

If artists can go into the world and collect trash, discards, and found objects to make them into artworks that we then value for their ideas and even for their beauty, then these artists pose an ethical question: What else, and who else, is in the world that we also need to hold in higher value?

Introduction to the Exhibition

Access a slow-looking exercise of this work.

Transcript
Narrator: This chromogenic print from 2012 by artist Xaviera Simmons is titled "Index Two Composition Three." The vertically oriented photograph is just over 4 feet high by 3 feet wide and centers an accumulation of layered objects. The items are attached together haphazardly with clothespins and other materials and cover a vertical cylindrical structure.

The objects include a braid of light brown hair, a green palm frond, a tin can hanging from twine, and a ceramic jug hanging from a knot of red pantyhose. Vintage postcards and drawings hang from clothespins at various angles alongside cutout photographs and an image of singer and fashion icon Grace Jones. At the bottom center of the print hangs a slightly crumpled white square of paper reading “The Far West” in silver capital letters. The precariously layered items appear to have personal significance. In photograph form, the colorful objects appear flattened and abstract, like a collage on paper.

Upon closer study, one might notice that the structure is in fact a person from the waist down, though the body is so entirely covered in objects, it is difficult to decipher the person underneath. The only visible body part is a knee and calf wearing yellow tights near the lower left of the photograph, almost unrecognizable, peeking out from behind the attached items.

The body seems to be wearing a long skirt, which the wearer has lifted up to reveal the collection of objects attached to and covering their waist and legs underneath. The skirt flares upward from the waist in a funnel shape, filling the upper right of the photograph and concealing the wearer’s upper body and face. The objects, once hidden under the skirt, seem like they could be a pleated or ruffled underskirt.

It is as if this person has lifted their skirt to perhaps anonymously reveal their story or unveil their history. In displaying these objects, what has this person revealed to us? We may question, Why do they move across the world as a carrier of these historical and cultural accumulations?

By Way Of

Description of Index Two Composition Three, 2012

Access a slow-looking exercise of this work. 

Transcript
Narrator: "Oh! Les Beaux Jours" is a work by Maro Michalakakos from 2012. The installation is composed of two huge mounds that rise to a height of over 12 feet, created entirely from pinkish-purple polyester fiber. Upon close inspection, the fiber resembles wispy felt pieces, like collected dryer lint or pulled cotton balls, material with an individual lightness but an accumulated weight and density.

The color appears to change depending on our vantage point, and the individual pieces range in tone from lighter to darker burgundy. Each conical mound widens to a base of around 10 feet in diameter. The two mountains sit about 5 feet apart from one another as if in conversation. Their bases are rounded against the floor, the polyester fiber neatly touching it. At the top, a more organic edge encircles a gallery column that pierces vertically through each sculpture’s middle. It’s as if the mounds are living plants spreading up around the columns.

Near the mounds, about five small heaps of the material, up to about a foot in any direction, are tucked into crevices at the base of surrounding gallery walls, and a small pile builds up in a corner, as if they have escaped the large mounds. Above the work, in a small alcove housing a ceiling light, a line of fibrous material gathers like dust along a rafter or a wispy cloud hovering above us.

At this large scale, the installation forms an imposing yet soft presence. The calming hue and fluffy texture appear inviting, as if one could sink into it like a leaf pile. Alternatively, the mounds could be interpreted as piles of debris and dust, as if someone has just finished sweeping the floors, piles that we wouldn’t want to disturb.

This contradiction is echoed in the artwork title. "Oh! Les Beaux Jours," or “happy days,” is adopted from the work of Samuel Beckett, whose play by the same name was first performed in 1961. 

A woman is trapped up to her waist within an earthen mound. She continues to attempt her daily routines, such as brushing her teeth and reviewing the contents of her bag, while speaking with her husband who is nearby. By the second act, she is buried up to her neck within the mound yet continues to repeat “Oh, this is a happy day.” Like Beckett’s couple, these two mounds remain close yet never touch, leaving us with questions about their relationship.

Did these mounds once touch and now exist separately? Are they in conversation with each other? Do they evoke growth or deterioration?

Description of Oh! Happy Days (Oh! Les Beaux Jours), 2012

Access a slow-looking exercise of this work. 

Transcript
Narrator: "Strange Fruit (Pair 1)" is a site-specific installation created in 2015 by Kevin Beasley. A variety of everyday objects are bound together, hanging vertically from the ceiling. The main body of the sculpture is about 6 feet long, elevated about 3 feet off the floor. It hangs about 12 feet below the ceiling, with a diameter up to 2 feet wide.

At first glance it could remind us of low-hanging fruit from a tree, like a tangle of bananas bunched together. However, the artwork title, materials, and construction allude to a deeper meaning. At the heart of "Strange Fruit (Pair 1)" is a pair of Nike Air Jordan sneakers, barely identifiable as they are covered in dark resin and wrapped among parts of speakers and amplifiers. These elements are bound together with rope, power cables, and audio jack cords. Beasley uses this highly commercialized shoe brand in a manner reminiscent of shoes flung over power lines in urban settings, tied together with and hanging by their laces.

The installation is constructed using several feet of climbing rope and thick electrical cords hanging from the ceiling. The rope and cords lead down to a knotted jumble of materials gathered towards the center, with a single shoe hanging down at the bottom. In this precarious arrangement, the sneakers and amplifiers look like they are barely supported within the tangle of cords and could fall off at any time. Beasley expresses underlying tension and violence in the way these objects dangle limply and broken like a body. The speakers are pulled apart, with just the front cone remaining. Electrical equipment is tucked into tube socks, and resin-covered socks and shoes appear partially burned and dirty, as if a soiled plastic bag was melted on top. Referencing Abel Meeropol’s 1937 song of the same title which protests the lynching of Black Americans, Beasley’s installation acknowledges a legacy of racism and classism still affecting Black Americans.

Beasley’s creation is specifically reflective of the Guggenheim’s unique architecture and sonic experience within the museum space. A microphone and speaker are connected to each shoe. Small blue and green lights on the electronic equipment signal they are receiving power, giving this work a sense that it is “alive” as it captures and projects the ambient sound of the gallery space. If we listen closely at certain angles, we detect a faint hum or hiss like the sound of electromagnetic interference. The intake and outtake, reflection and absorption of sound is both expansive and intimate at the same time, similar to how sound varies depending on your location along the ramps or galleries, and distance from the artwork or each other. 

How does the incorporation of sound into this installation affect our perspective of the artwork?

Description of Strange Fruit (Pair 1), 2015

Access a slow-looking exercise of these works.

Transcript
Narrator: These two artworks by David Hammons are part of his "Body Prints" series from 1975. Both share the same name, "Untitled," and same dimensions, around 2 feet wide by 2 1/2 feet tall. They are vertically oriented and aesthetically similar, sharing the same colors and application of pigments.

Hammons uses his own body to create these visceral artworks. Covering his hands with a transparent grease, he applies them onto the cream-colored paper, palms facedown, fingers splayed. He repeatedly presses his hands onto the paper, smearing and smudging the grease. The flurry of movement doesn’t become visible until he applies colored pigment powder onto the greased surface, revealing the printed forms. The pigments are laid in three vertical columns, one each of cobalt blue, light brown, and green, a few inches wide. They have no distinct lines of separation and blend softly together at each transition point.

After the pigment is applied, Hammons greases his face, pressing it to the center of the paper. This lifts the colored pigment, revealing the creamy color beneath. He leaves a ghostly impression, subtle yet incredibly detailed, like memories of a dream. He precisely prints his nose, thick mustache, and full lips. Two pairs of short horizontal lines above the nose evoke eyelids, as if his eyes are closed or squinting at us, and seem to be made by dragging his fingertips on the surface. The face is almost lost among the soft colors, as one’s attention is immediately drawn to the swirling pigments and movement on the paper before noticing this absence of color in its shape.

When these two artworks are viewed side by side, subtle differences between them create the impression of a “before-and-after” moment. On the left, Hammons has carefully applied his handprints, the palms and fingers distinct, layered with occasional smearing. The vertical columns of pigments from left to right are cobalt blue, light brown, and a dark aquamarine color. His face, with closed lips, is pressed into the brown pigment at the center.

On the right artwork, his palms and fingers are barely distinguishable. Swirls of pigment are visible, as if he smeared and dragged his hands across the paper multiple times. This softens the colors, creating a hazy effect. Moving from left to right, the vertical columns of pigments are light brown, cobalt blue, and a forest-green color. In the center of this artwork, the face print is against the cobalt-blue color. His lips are puckered and open, forming an “O” shape, as if surprised or dismayed. An additional application of grease on the side of his hands along his pinky fingers has lifted the pigment, creating a ghostly impression that he is grasping his face, and cupping his cheeks.

The markings of Hammons’s palms and fingers near the eyes might make us consider how an artist sees with their hands. How does our experience of this work change, knowing that Hammons physically used his own body to create this artwork?

Description of Untitled, 1975

Access a slow-looking exercise of this work.

Transcript
Narrator: Mona Hatoum has set the table for us with this artwork, "Deep Throat," from 1996. The installation includes a table, roughly 3 feet square and just over 4 feet high, covered in a tablecloth with a single place setting and wooden chair in front of it. The chair faces away from us, pulled out slightly from the table, as if we’ve been invited to sit facing the gallery wall at a slight angle.  Despite having enough room for four people around the table, this is a setting for one.

The armless chair is a light brown color with a solid wood seat. Its thin legs support an arched rung connecting the front and back legs beneath the seat. The chair back has three thin, arched rails stacked from its base about an inch apart, topped by a thicker backrest.

The table is covered with a square white tablecloth patterned with white leaves in its weave, which hangs down each side, leaving only the bottom of the light brown table legs exposed. If we were to sit at this table, our knees would brush against the tablecloth as we pulled in our chair.

A topper linen or large cloth napkin of the same fabric is laid over the tablecloth at an angle, forming a diamond shape against the square of the table. It has been unfolded, with clear crease lines still visible. At this angle it doesn’t quite cover the entire table surface, creating a small triangle at each corner exposing the underlying tablecloth. This triangle shape is echoed in the corners of this smaller cloth, which hang a few inches off the center of each edge of the table.

The simple table setting includes one round white dinner plate with a silver four-pronged fork placed to its left and a silver knife on its right, its blade facing inward toward the plate. A tall empty drinking glass is positioned on the table at the upper right of the plate.

Upon closer inspection, not quite noticeable until looking down on the table, a color video projection is centered on the plate. It fills the circular bottom, perfectly round, leaving about an inch around the rim of the plate where it flares slightly upward, as if we’ve just been served soup with the edges of the plate wiped clean.

The video playing on a 5-minute loop depicts the full journey through an upper gastrointestinal tract, from the point of view of our food. Like footage from an endoscopy, the camera slowly squeezes through the esophagus, the tissue lining bright and slick with delicate veining. The video continues on repeat, over and over, tunneling deeply through this throat, the entire digestive system, and back up. The pristine formal table arrangement inviting us to dine on food as a familiar comfort is a stark contrast to the graphic animalistic reminder of how it will pass through our body.

The artwork’s title, "Deep Throat," in addition to referencing the physicality of the work and the video footage, also references the mysterious informer from the Watergate scandal and a pornographic movie starring Linda Lovelace. Both phenomena brought to public attention things generally meant to be kept secret or private.

Why is there discomfort in watching a typically private and hidden bodily process made public against the backdrop of a table setting—especially when this process is so common to the human experience? Perhaps Hatoum has left us with other questions too. Why not include a spoon, the easiest utensil to shovel food down our throats? Why is the table set for one?

Description of Deep Throat, 1996

As part of the Guggenheim Museum’s Summer of Know series, artist Ad Minoliti and activist Adam Werner discussed social and artistic responsibility, and building community on digital platforms, with moderation by X Zhu-Nowell, Assistant Curator at the Guggenheim Museum.

Photo: Ed Marshall

Archivo de la Memoria Trans
https://archivodelamemoriatrans.tumblr.com/

Queer Ancestors Project
https://www.queerancestorsproject.org/

The Feminist School of Painting
http://fschool.kadist.org/

Cromoactivismo
https://www.facebook.com/Cromoactivismo-1430319627007557/

Campaña Nacional por el Derecho al Aborto Legal Seguro y Gratuito
http://www.abortolegal.com.ar/

Summer of Know

Conversation: Ad Minoliti and Adam Werner (2019)

Listen to audio about exhibitions and artworks at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York City. Frank Lloyd Wright's landmark building is home to a collection of modern and contemporary masterpieces.

Description of Deep Throat, 1996

Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum

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