Picking Your Installation Battles

The New York Times has a feature piece today on the complications and considerations of installing artwork. It's probably a rather dry read for folks who haven't lived this experience (the Times article suggests the subtleties of hanging art are perhaps the "curatorial version of arguing about angels on pinheads") but ask any artist, curator, or gallerist, and most can share more than one nightmare installation story. (Oddly enough, rarely is the one telling the tale the source of the nightmarish problem it seems, but....)

The article focuses on two challenging installations and creative solutions at the Whitney (the Richard Tuttle exhibition, which includes 300 pieces "of all shapes and sizes, made from things like tissue paper, string, Styrofoam and florist's wire. (Some pieces are so delicate that strollers and backpacks are not allowed in the exhibition.)" and Ed Ruscha's exhibition, which includes 10 paintings, "most depicting jutting, angular urban buildings, in a huge square gallery without making the pairings seem too literal, too straightforward - in other words, too square." But it was the following that got me to thinking about what's important to remember about the challenges each installation can present:

While Mr. Tuttle and [Whitney curator, David] Kiehl had argued strongly that they did not want even labels to accompany the work, Mr. Kiehl said, "some battles you lose." But as just one example of the many competing demands on curators, he described another battle over a series of zigzag walls that would have been used to display drawings in one room. Mr. Kiehl hated the zigzags. So he and [Mark] Steigelman [the museum's design and construction manager] simply designed the drawings room to be too narrow to accommodate the walls. He leaned forward during an interview and smiled: "Let's just call what we did creative sabotage." [emphasis mine]

I've seen otherwise cheerful relationships between artists, curators, and gallerist go sour during an installation, and clearly, at that point all the competing interests of the respective parties are bound to clash sometimes, but this one simple idea---"some battles you lose"---is a very good mantra to help get you through such times. In other words, it's important to pick your battles: To make sure you get what's most important to you, you're often better off compromising on something that isn't that important to you. Understanding ahead of time which is which is the trick here.

In the context of gallery group exhibitions, especially with emerging artists still looking for a gallery, this cannot be emphasized enough IMO. Every emerging artist in a group exhibition should consider that exhibition an interview/audition, if they would like to picked up by that gallery. It's important that you stand up for your work and ensure it's installed in a way that makes sense and is true to your vision, but if you reveal yourself to be high maintenance in the context of a group exhibition, the gallerist will undoubtedly take note and multiply that in their head when considering whether they'd want to work with you on a solo exhibition.

An exhibition I curated many years ago included 9 pieces by an artist who knew which walls were hers. There was no dispute over that. But the artist insisted on seeing each of these 9 pieces in every conceiveable arrangement, and consuming the design manager and my time for our opinion on each. My asking the artist to begin to make at least some choices ("This one? Can we agree that this one looks best here?") led to drama and an insistence that I didn't care if the exhibition looked like shit (yes, I often spend months of my life working on something that in the end I'm that ambivalent about). Meanwhile other artists who needed the design manager were growing angry and resentful. I have had several opportunities to work with that artist again, and she's a good artist, but I'm gun shy and really don't need the aggravation. I mean I would have stayed there until 2 in the morning getting it right (and on other occassions I have) if I thought it was important, but this I felt was more about stroking her ego than anything else. In the context of a group exhibition, that's not a wise career move.

Like I said above, every curator, artist, and gallerist can tell you horror stories about installations. There's generally not enough time or resources to please everyone at this critical juncture. But taking the time to understand what's important to you and the other people involved, in addition to ensuring the exhibition looks awesome, is helpful. (Hint: for gallerists, protecting the artwork and/or public safety are often big, legitimate concerns that make them dig in their heels, as are deadlines and costs [I'll let the artists who read here speak for their concerns...feel free to vent!]).

If you have concerns, as an artist, you probably cannot begin discussing them too far in advance with a curator or gallerist. Most logistical needs can be addressed with enough warning. There's no getting around that fact that often there are competing interests. As with all this, thinking it through ahead of time and communicating clearly can save everyone a lot of drama.

Update: Tyler Green, who has curated at least one exhibition himself, adds some interesting footnotes to installation practices at the Whitney.