Inspire your heart with art this weekend

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Sir Anthony Van Dyck. Rinaldo and Armida. 1629. Oil on canvas, 93 x 90 in. (235.3 x 228.7 cm) The Jacob Epstein Collection, BMA 1951.103

 

This Valentine’s weekend, share your love for art with #HeartsforArt. Museums all over the country are inviting visitors to show their love for a favorite work of art by placing a paper heart on the floor in front of an artwork crush. Spread the love by photographing your heart and favorite work, and posting to Twitter or Instagram using #artbma #heartsforart.

How it works:
Step 1: Pick up a paper heart at the Welcome Desk.
Step 2: Place the heart on the floor in front of a work of art you love.
Step 3: Photograph your heart and favorite work of art, and post to Instagram or Twitter, tagged with #artbma #heartsforart for a chance to win a BMA Catalogue.

We’ll announce the winner next week on Instagram and Twitter.

Follow the hearts throughout the museum to see what brings others to say “I do”, or see what art-lovers across America are passionate about by following the #heartsforart hashtag on social media.

Will you play hard to get and visit all of the galleries before choosing your favorite or be direct and go right to ‘the one’? We can’t want to see what you fall in love with.

Thanks to our museum friends at the Oakland Museum of California and Columbus Museum of Art who initiated the #heartsforart program, and invited the BMA to be involved.  

The BMA Outpost in Reservoir Hill

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The BMA Outpost in Reservoir Hill.

The BMA Outpost is a portable museum that is taking up temporary residence in a variety of communities throughout Baltimore City, led by the BMA’s Amy and Marc Meadows Education Fellow Katie Bachler.

I spent October and November of 2014 in Reservoir Hill at the St. Francis Neighborhood Center – an old house turned church turned community center and after school program. The center hosts 43 students every day, and they work on projects and school work in rooms that were once bedrooms, with old fireplaces, and carved wood decorations. This was a home for the Outpost, our folding museum set up by the bus stop at the corner of Linden and Whitelock Streets, with reproductions of The Steerage by Alfred Stieglitz and A Quick Nap by Walter Williams displayed in the sun. People from the neighborhood stopped by every day to chat, to share a story, to add to the map of what matters to them in the neighborhood. The kids were happy to see me every day, saying “art, art, art!” as they walked by or got off the bus. This corner became a home, and residents became familiar with me as a bit of extra street architecture and a source of conversation.

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Visitors to the Outpost create maps of what matters to them in the neighborhood.

This neighborhood was once home to wealthy business owners, who lived in three story brick homes, with marble staircases, decorative windows, and iconic spired roofs that glowed in the sunlight at the end of the day. These were and are grand homes, some with gutter systems that would bring rainwater into the kitchen for washing dishes.

Reservoir Hill was known as Jonestown, the original site along the Jones Falls where the Englishman David Jones claimed land, and built along the water, like people tend to do all over the world – growth happens around water. The land was filled with oaks, and small streams, in a time when Baltimore was growing, and land was available to claim. Druid Hill Park was once rural land outside of the city of Baltimore, whose northernmost boundary was North Avenue. Sheep grazed near untouched forests. Everyone put Druid Hill Lake on his or her map; it is the anchor of the neighborhood, a place to relax and walk and think and breathe.

There was a perfectly circular reservoir known as the Mt Royal Reservoir that brought water to half of the city’s residents in the 1850s, at the old entrance to Druid Hill Park, the remains of which are still flanked by two large marble posts. The city was growing then. The Jones Falls was a source of clean water, helping Baltimore to become a booming industrial town, immigrants flowing in to help create and alter the economic conditions of the city.  Water was home.

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Hand-painted map of resident’s favorite places by Katie Bachler, handed back to participants who contributed locations.

The past is remembered in places, in the height and material reality of buildings, and what was cared about and what was given weight, given names, given space, like the gardens along Linden Avenue, which was once known as the Garden Path, and was manicured, and existed as an entrance to Druid Hill Park.

The stories I hear from residents now are still about home—about family, about eating dinner, about hanging out on the corner, and how the roofs of the neighborhood houses look so cool. I spoke with Juanita, who lives on a short street behind the St. Francis Neighborhood Center where there used to be the garden, as she walked past the Outpost. She remarked, “you have to smile at people, it makes it a place here, it makes it home.” Juanita’s little dog Sammy walks beside her. They are connected.

The BMA Outpost will be located at the Govans Branch of the Enoch Pratt library from  mid-January through mid-February. You can join us to experience art in public, and map your own journey to home.

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People’s Choice Award: No. 1

Edgar Degas. Little Dancer, Aged Fourteen. Original model 1881; this cast 1919‑1921. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Alice Morawetz Bequest Fund, BMA 1943.1

Edgar Degas. Little Dancer, Aged Fourteen. Original model 1881; this cast 1919‑1921. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Alice Morawetz Bequest Fund, BMA 1943.1

Over the past 100 days, we’ve taken you on an insider’s exploration of the BMA’s collection through the eyes of its curators, conservators, and registrars. We’ve seen objects from all over the world, including Mali, Japan, Italy, and America; we’ve looked at paintings and prints, record players, decomposing fruit skins, and delicate textiles. The project has highlighted some of our favorite, amusing, unusual, and obscure objects.

Now it’s time to discover your favorite pieces in the BMA collection. To celebrate our 100th Anniversary, we invited everyone to vote for their favorite artwork from a group of 100 selected by the Museum’s chief curator, with voting closing on December 21.

From December 22, we’ve been counting down the top 10 works of art on social media, one each day until the end of the year. Today, we reveal the number 1 work of art in our collection according to you.

So, what do you love? Your favorite works of art are:

  1. Edgar Degas. Little Dancer, Aged Fourteen. Original model 1881; this cast 1919‑1921.
  2. Auguste Rodin. The Thinker. Original model 1880; this cast 1904‑1917.
  3. Striding Lion. Syria (present-day Turkey). 5th century.
  4. Henri Matisse. Interior with Dog. 1934.
  5. Paul Cézanne. Mont Sainte‑Victoire Seen from the Bibémus Quarry. c. 1897.
  6. Dan Flavin. Untitled (To Barnett Newman for “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”). 1993‑1994.
  7. Georgia O’Keeffe. Pink Tulip. 1926.
  8. Paul Gauguin. Vahine no te vi (Woman of the Mango). 1892.
  9. John Frederick Kensett. View on the Hudson. 1865.
  10. Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun. Princess Anna Alexandrovna Galitzin. c. 1797.
The People's Choice top 10 works, shown in order.

The People’s Choice top 10 works, shown in order.

People’s Choice Award: No. 2

Auguste Rodin. The Thinker. Original model 1880; this cast 1904‑1917. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Jacob Epstein Collection, BMA 1930.25.1

Auguste Rodin. The Thinker. Original model 1880; this cast 1904‑1917. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Jacob Epstein Collection, BMA 1930.25.1

To celebrate our 100th Anniversary, we invited everyone to vote for their favorite artwork from a group of 100 selected by the Museum’s chief curator. Your 2nd favorite work in the BMA collection is Auguste Rodin. The Thinker. Original model 1880; this cast 1904‑1917.

BMA Voices: Using art to explore language

Bruce Nauman. Violins Violence Silence (Exterior Version). 1981 1982. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Gift of Leo Castelli Gallery, New  York, and Sperone Westwater Fischer Gallery, New York, BMA 1984.2. ©  Bruce Nauman/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Bruce Nauman. Violins Violence Silence (Exterior Version). 1981 1982. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Gift of Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, and Sperone Westwater Fischer Gallery, New York, BMA 1984.2. © Bruce Nauman/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Lauren Ross, Senior Conservation Technician

This artwork is compelling and it confuses me. I like crossword puzzles, cryptograms, brainteasers in general, etymology, and games of language manipulation. It seems obvious that playing with language is a significant part of Bruce Nauman’s artistic practice. Our Curator of Contemporary Art Kristen Hileman recently wrote:

In addition to provoking viewers to consider the aesthetic dimensions of a format associated with advertising, Nauman called attention to the idea that visual art can be a means for exploring language.

Especially in his language-based work, Bruce Nauman is SERIOUSLY funny. But he’s serious, too.

It’s easy enough to grasp the progression (spelling and rhyming) of the words in the title. How did he come to those particular words though? Which one came first? Or was it just an immediate kind of thing where the words mentally landed one after the next? I’ve wondered if you’re intended to think of the sad cliché of violins playing? It’s easy then to think of something that might really be sad. VIOLENCE and SILENCE together = what? It could be death. Is the word SILENCE intended to get you to think about the silent nature of the neon itself, flashing in the dark? Or is SILENCE to make you think about VIOLENCE being under-reported or ignored? Could it just be that Nauman heard a great piece of violin music that had a violent crescendo and then got really quiet? Or, maybe the cadence of the words has a natural incline and decline as you think them or say them. But I doubt it’s that simple.

What about the colors? The sequence of words goes like this:  VVSand then the same words, only completely backwards:

SEE
Do the specific individual colors or their transitions make you feel the ideas of the words differently? I think they must. I’m not sure it’s fair to say it, but maybe Nauman assigned the specific colors to each word for a specific conceptual reason, manipulating the gases as if using physics to harness synesthetics. Nauman studied mathematics and physics in college, so I assume his use of the noble gases is pretty well-informed. The sequencing of the words, too, is another aspect entirely that is mathematically specific.

When I moved here in 1989 as a young art student, I first saw this piece and was absolutely astounded by it. I hadn’t seen any of Nauman’s work before then, and it introduced to a whole new genre of artwork. Everything I’ve seen of his since has moved me.

Now that I’ve lived here for 25 years, the way I experience this work is slightly different. I think it’s because it’s located in Baltimore. It’s not pleasant to admit that Baltimore has a reputation for violent crime. Maybe any city where it was installed would summon up the same ideas. Yet there is an impact or echo of a city’s identity on a work of public art. Language manipulated in this way is suggestive politically. Figuring out the suggestion is part of the intellectual challenge in looking at Nauman.

BMA Voices is an insider’s exploration of The Baltimore Museum of Art collection through the eyes of its curators, conservators, and registrars. Featuring a new object every day during the BMA’s 100 Day Celebration, the project will highlight some favorite, amusing, unusual, and obscure objects.

People’s Choice Award: No. 3

Striding Lion. Syria (present-day Turkey). 5th century. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Antioch Subscription Fund, BMA 1937.139

Striding Lion. Syria (present-day Turkey). 5th century. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Antioch Subscription Fund, BMA 1937.139

To celebrate our 100th Anniversary, we invited everyone to vote for their favorite artwork from a group of 100 selected by the Museum’s chief curator.

Your 3rd favorite work in the BMA collection is Striding Lion. Syria (present-day Turkey). 5th century.

BMA Voices: Louis Comfort Tiffany Window of the Baptism of Christ: the other side!

Baptism of Christ at the entrance to the BMA auditorium

Manufactured by Tiffany Glass and Decorating Company from a design by Frank Brangwyn.. Window: Baptism of Christ. c. 1897. The Baltimore Museum of Art: Gift of Herman and Rosa L. Cohen, and Ben and Zelda G. Cohen, BMA 1979.5. © Estate of Frank Brangwyn. Baptism of Christ at the entrance to the BMA auditorium.

Christine Downie, Objects Conservator

The monument Tiffany Window, Baptism of Christ, has graced the entrance to the BMA auditorium since 1982. When the time came to reinstall the piece in the American Wing, the question arose of which side should be shown. There is no correct side to a stained-glass window since it has viewers from both the inside and the outside of the building.

Looking at the window in its original installation, it became clear that the window had been shown from the exterior viewpoint. For instance, it might have struck the viewer that St. John was baptizing Jesus with his left hand, whereas in a church one might expect to see him pouring with his right hand. All the supporting rods were at the back of the piece, whereas it is traditional in a church for the stained-glass windows to have the supporting rods on the interior. Further investigation showed that the original cartoon by the artist Frank Brangwyn, which Tiffany used for the stained-glass design, has St. John pouring the water on Jesus’ head using his right hand. The decision was made by Dr. David Park Curry, Senior Curator and Dept. Head of Decorative Arts, American Painting & Sculpture, to show the Tiffany window from the other side in the reinstallation of the American Wing. Thus began one of the toughest installation challenges in the museum to date.

1979.5 Tiffany Window Baptism of Christ Aug 5, 2013 085 (Small)The piece had been completely restored in 1979 by a New York City stained-glass specialist and separated into four panels for easier handling. In the thirty years following, a few conservation issues developed, such as a brass supporting rod on an upper panel, which had separated from the frame at one end. Fortunately, we had the expertise of Tage Jakobsen of Artisan Glass Works, Inc., Baltimore, who carried out various metal repairs and gave advice on the display aspects of the piece. We were also fortunate to have local mount maker and sculptor Paul Daniel to help fabricate new supports for the window. Under the direction of Dave Verchomin, Installation Manager, the BMA installation team and an army of contract art handlers deinstalled the window and placed it in storage to await stabilization and cleaning.

The first piece I treated was the smallest, and located at the base of the window. You can see the exterior side and the interior side below.

Exterior viewof the glass.

Exterior view of the glass.

Interior view of the glass.

Interior view of the glass.

Much to my delight there was a painted Tiffany signature stamp on the bottom right hand corner of the interior view that had some old repairs and was covered in surface grime – further evidence that this was indeed the interior side.

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A painted Tiffany signature stamp on the bottom right hand corner of the interior view.

 

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The BMA Registrars and Installation team carefully move the Tiffany Window.

The treatment of each panel was carried out over a few months, with art handling help from the BMA Registrars and Installation team. After extensive research, a new LED lighting system was selected by Lighting Designer Kel Millionie. After much planning and thought the BMA Installation crew and contract art handler army came together again to reinstall St. John Baptist window in November, 2014, just in time for the opening of the American Wing.

David Zimmerman adjusting the mount before the second panel is installed

David Zimmerman adjusting the mount before the second panel is installed.

Testing of the LED panels in the bottom right corner

Testing of the LED panels in the bottom right corner

BMA Voices is an insider’s exploration of The Baltimore Museum of Art collection through the eyes of its curators, conservators, and registrars. Featuring a new object every day during the BMA’s 100 Day Celebration, the project will highlight some favorite, amusing, unusual, and obscure objects.

People’s Choice Award: No. 4

Henri Matisse. Interior with Dog. 1934. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.257. © 2013 Succession H. Matisse/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Henri Matisse. Interior with Dog. 1934. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.257. © 2013 Succession H. Matisse/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

To celebrate our 100th Anniversary, we invited everyone to vote for their favorite artwork from a group of 100 selected by the Museum’s chief curator.

Your 4th favorite work in the BMA collection is Henri Matisse. Interior with Dog. 1934.

Learn more about this piece in our BMA Voices video on Henri Matisse’s The Yellow Dress.

BMA Voices: Melting into Félix Vallotton

Félix Vallotton. The Lie. 1897. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.298

Félix Vallotton. The Lie. 1897. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.298

Anna Fitzgerald, Temporary Coordinator of Image Services & Rights

Years ago I lived in Charles Village, so I was just a walk away from great art to take me all over the world. I love to wander through museums, letting the art grab me. Vallotton grabbed me.

I loved the way these figures wrapped up around each other; how their bodies were human, but also liquid. They melted into each other and the room. And the title ­– The Lie – that’s a good title.

There is also that red. Vallotton brings this woman to the forefront with her red dress, but the table, and the chair all the way in the back, is red too. The woman not only melts into her lover, but the furniture. It’s as though she could be dusted off, folded up, and put away just like the tablecloth.

I love the reflection of red on her face – on both their faces – after too much wine. I love the shape of her fingers on his back. I love the blob of their hands together, the indistinguishable features of a man all in black. I love the wallpaper, and the light spot in the background where the chairs meet. This gold wallpaper gives this scene a time and a place.

When I first saw this painting, I bought a postcard of it in the BMA Shop. I pinned it to a board near my desk at my home, and later at my workshop, and every now and then fell into it again…

Félix Vallotton. To Edgar Poe. 1894. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.12.375

Félix Vallotton. To Edgar Poe. 1894. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.12.375

During another trip to the museum I went into an exhibition on Edgar Allen Poe. One woodcut in particular seemed to capture the moment of a thought, the direct line to a feeling, in a portrait of Edgar Allen Poe. It was Vallotton again. I would later find out that The Lie, which I love so much, also began as a woodcut, which is in the collection at The Museum of Modern Art in New York. I am drawn to the similarities between The Lie and his woodcuts, where people melt into the background or swirl around like leaves on the sidewalk. We are part of the world, of the sky and the walls, not simply standing out in front of it.

Some years later, when I was studying Puppet Arts at The University of Connecticut, I had an assignment to recreate a landscape painting that would firstly be projected, and must then move. With India Inks and transparencies, I painted Vallotton’s Landscape with Trees. And with a series of blue and orange lighting gels, I could set the painting in motion, completing the sunset Vallotton had started for us. Those colors, too, struck me. He had frozen a sunset, that point in the day when light and color changes every second. Since then, I notice how the color of the sky transforms, how the blues and oranges and pinks warp and melt into each other.

Staring off into the works of Vallotton has changed the way I look at the world. It is that change in me that illustrates one of the many reasons art is important and necessary. As the new year brings new promises for self growth, I invite you to get lost in more art and just see if your perspective doesn’t change.

BMA Voices is an insider’s exploration of The Baltimore Museum of Art collection through the eyes of its curators, conservators, and registrars. Featuring a new object every day during the BMA’s 100 Day Celebration, the project will highlight some favorite, amusing, unusual, and obscure objects. 

People’s Choice Award: No. 5

Paul Cézanne. Mont Sainte‑Victoire Seen from the Bibémus Quarry. c. 1897. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.196

Paul Cézanne. Mont Sainte‑Victoire Seen from the Bibémus Quarry. c. 1897. The Baltimore Museum of Art: The Cone Collection, formed by Dr. Claribel Cone and Miss Etta Cone of Baltimore, Maryland, BMA 1950.196

To celebrate our 100th Anniversary, we invited everyone to vote for their favorite artwork from a group of 100 selected by the Museum’s chief curator.

Your 5th favorite work in the BMA collection is Paul Cézanne. Mont Sainte‑Victoire Seen from the Bibémus Quarry. c. 1897.

See our BMA Voices post on this work of art.