Teen Artist Residency: Peacock Printmaking Project

Clockwise from top left: Teen artists in "Filthy Lucre," inspired by Whistler’s peacock feather pattern, assembled in front of the Freer Gallery of Art, and with printmaker Dennis O’Neil.

Clockwise from top left: Teen artists in “Filthy Lucre,” inspired by Whistler’s peacock feather pattern, assembled in front of the Freer Gallery of Art, and with printmaker Dennis O’Neil.

Local teens have turned the conflicts in their lives into James McNeill Whistler-inspired art. This summer, the Freer|Sackler partnered with ArtReach@THEARC to host a three-week artist residency for DC teenagers with internationally recognized printmaker Dennis O’Neil. The group spent a day visiting the museums, during which they toured Whistler’s famed Peacock Room and the contemporary installation Peacock Room REMIX: Darren Waterston’s Filthy Lucre with Lee Glazer, associate curator of American art. Inspired by their experiences, the young artists then investigated the emotional tension behind Art and Money; or, The Story of the Room, Whistler’s mural of fighting peacocks that marked his feud—and subsequent break—with longtime patron Frederick Leyland. Working with graduate-student mentors from George Washington University, the teen artists drew parallels to their own lives and depicted personal stories of conflict on nineteen vase-shaped prints, which were affixed to a Peacock Room-esque screen.

The Peacock Printmaking Project being prepped to go on display at the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery.

The Peacock Printmaking Project being prepped to go on display at the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery.

“I thought many of the vases were extremely creative. I enjoyed the give and take between the students and the George Washington interns,” said O’Neil at the project’s opening reception. The Peacock Printmaking Project remains on view outside the ImaginAsia classroom in the Sackler until January 2016.

Interested in upcoming teen programs at the Galleries? Register for this month’s two-session audio-recording workshop, co-hosted by the Hirshhorn’s ArtLAB+, to explore artworks in Peacock Room REMIX. You also might be a great fit for the Freer|Sackler Teen Council, a group of ten creative and dedicated high school students who help make the museums more welcoming and engaging for young people. The Teen Council plans and hosts events that bring DC-area teens to the museums to hang out, make and design art, and have unique and exciting experiences. Take a look at the schedule, commitment, and benefits associated with participating in the Teen Council. If you think you would be a great fit, apply online by November 1, 2015, to join.

Friday Fave: Sunrise

Sunrise; Dwight William Tryon (1849–1925); United States, 1915; pastel on cardboard; Gift of Charles Lang Freer; F1915.129a–b

Sunrise; Dwight William Tryon (1849–1925); United States, 1915; pastel on cardboard; Gift of Charles Lang Freer; F1915.129a–b

On my first day as an intern in the Freer|Sackler’s American art department, I was thumbing through the guidebook A Perfect Harmony: The American Collection in the Smithsonian’s Freer Gallery of Art. I found myself captivated by a series titled Sea Moods by Dwight William Tryon (1849–1925), a painter and friend of museum founder Charles Lang Freer. My favorite of Tryon’s “moods,” created in 1915 during a summer fishing expedition to Ogunquit, Maine, is Sunrise. Something in the image reminded me of my home back in California. I became mesmerized by the light lavenders, soft yellows, and textured blues. The overall surface of the painting glistens, reiterating the rhythmic movement and shimmer of the waves. The seemingly spontaneous effect contrasts Tryon’s laborious process of layering pastel twenty to thirty times.

An avid outdoorsman, Tryon often spent his summers on the coast of Maine, finding inspiration from the sea. It wasn’t until the winter months that Tryon retreated into his studio, where he would eventually create nineteen of these seaside pastels from memory. Describing the time between inspiration and execution, Tryon wrote that his pastels “went through the alembic of my mind before they were writ onto canvas.” I became fascinated by his artistic process of allowing the experience of a specific moment to evolve over time into a more evocative and spiritual image. The opalescent, layered pastels on rough brown paper are literally palpable: Sunrise has a pulse, making the image deeply personal. Because of the way Tryon layered the pastel, applying coats of fixative between each, the final image is a type of palimpsest, or record of time passing.

The morning before I left for DC, I woke early to watch the full moon set over the horizon. Viewing Sunrise transported me back to that peaceful morning of swimming in the ocean, watching the moon, and observing the sun as it began to rise. Sunrise is imbued with a subtle vitality that inspired an affectionate remembrance of home.

Behind the Scenes: Sōtatsu

Sōtatsu maquette (with Batman and Catwoman)

Sōtatsu maquette (with Batman and Catwoman)

To prepare for the upcoming exhibition Sōtatsu: Making Waves, our designers are busy exploring ideas for the galleries. This maquette, or scale model, shows fabric banners that will grace the staircase between the exhibition’s two floors. Superheroes, courtesy of the graphic designer’s son, give us a sense of scale … as well as a sense of power!

Sōtatsu: Making Waves, the first exhibition in the West devoted to the seventeenth-century master Tawaraya Sōtatsu, opens at the Sackler on October 24. You never know who will show up…

Close Up: Turkish Filmmaker Ҫağan Irmak

Film still from "Whisper If I Forget"

Film still from “Whisper If I Forget”

On Friday at 7 pm in the Meyer Auditorium, we inaugurate a new partnership with Turkish Airlines in Close Up, a series that will periodically bring Asian filmmakers to the Galleries to present their work. Appropriately enough, our first guest, Ҫağan Irmak, is one of Turkey’s most popular and accomplished directors. I’m not too proud to admit that until a few months ago, I had never heard of him. I am eternally grateful to the friend who clued me in, because now I’m hooked. Irmak makes popular entertainment of the most satisfying kind: films that balance humor and sadness, address serious issues without becoming heavy-handed, and aim for a broad audience without insulting anyone’s intelligence.

In Are We OK?, playing September 18, a heartbroken sculptor befriends a suicidal, severely disabled man in a story that mixes sadness, joy, and touches of magic realism. Spanning four decades, September 20’s film, Whisper if I Forget, follows an aging diva suffering from the onset of Alzheimer’s as she returns home to make amends with the sister she betrayed on her way to stardom. This touching tale of sacrifice, forgiveness, and the strength of family ties revels in a nostalgia for ’70s rock-and-roll kitsch that will bring a smile even to those who have never donned a pair of bell bottoms.

Coming upon new filmmakers is one of the great pleasures of my job. It is an even greater one to be able to share them with you. I hope you enjoy discovering Irmak’s work as much as I have.

After each screening, please stay for a Q&A with the director.

Interested in film and other programs at the Freer|Sackler? Sign up for our e-newsletter.

Tibetan Healing Mandala

Tibetan monks working carefully to create the sand mandala in 2012.

Tibetan monks working carefully to create the sand mandala in 2002.

In January 2002, four months after the tragedies of September 11, 2001, twenty Buddhist monks from the Drepung Loseling Monastery in Tibet came to the Sackler to construct a healing sand mandala (sacred painting). Many of us working at the museums at the time scrambled to make sure we could record the activities of the monks during their three weeks here. In addition to a time-lapse video recording the creation of the sand mandala, we placed notebooks in the gallery so visitors could share their thoughts. Those who wished to draw added sketches, most often of the monks at work. These words and pictures became some of my favorite museum memories. One person wrote:

In four months I’ve come to different levels of understanding, grief, and horror. I’ve wept and screamed. I’ve written and wondered. Simply standing here today brings me to another level. One day I’ll have a word for it. For now, I thank you.

When the mandala was completed, it was subsequently destroyed. The act of destroying a mandala symbolizes the impermanence of existence. At a closing ceremony, the monks distributed some of the sand to visitors in small plastic bags. The rest they poured into the Potomac River, sending the mandala’s healing energy out into the world.

During the closing ceremony, a monk empties sand into the Potomac River.

During the closing ceremony, a monk empties sand into the Potomac River.

So many years later, I still remember the monks, the mandala, and the crowds looking on patiently. I recall the stories and pictures people left behind in our notebooks. Last year, the post we put together on the Tibetan sand mandala became the most shared of any the Freer|Sackler has done on Tumblr. A dozen years after its creation, the mandala’s message was distributed once again.

Friday Fave: Buddhist Stele

Buddhist Stele with the "Thousand Buddhas"; China, Northern Wei dynasty, dated 461 CE; sandstone with traces of polychrome pigment; Gift of Marietta Lutze Sackler; S1991.157

Buddhist Stele with the “Thousand Buddhas”; China, Northern Wei dynasty, dated 461 CE; sandstone with traces of polychrome pigment; Gift of Marietta Lutze Sackler; S1991.157

For my first assignment as a summer intern at the Freer and Sackler Galleries, I was asked to research this monumental Chinese Buddhist stele, which is being considered for a future exhibition on Buddhist art. Steles were created to commemorate the Buddhist faith and proliferated during the Northern Wei dynasty (386–535 CE). At the bottom of this stele, the Historical Buddha Shakyamuni sits cross-legged with hands in dhyani mudra, flanked by bodhisattvas and ascetic figures.

The stele’s repetitive pattern is known as the “Thousand Buddhas” (qianfo), characterized by rows of small Buddha figures on the front and back. It’s one of the most important motifs in Northern Wei Buddhist art. According to scholars, it reflects the notion that the cosmos is filled with innumerable realms, which are all simultaneously inhabited by Buddhas. The motif supports the omnipresence of Buddha and Buddha-nature. Many experts propose that the motif is related to the practice of visualization and recitation during Buddhist practice. While there is room for debate on the meaning of the Thousand Buddhas, the inscription provides a concrete example of the hopes of the stele’s sponsors, including their good wishes for the emperor, hope for the spread of Buddhism, and request for peace.

After about a month of reading and researching, I was finally able to view the stele in Sackler storage. It is a remarkable experience to see an object after learning about its many details. It reminded me of meeting a penpal for the first time or reuniting with a childhood friend. I was immediately able to relate all of my research to the physical object in front of me. For instance, I knew to look for the bodhisattva to the right of Shakyamuni who holds a bottle of healing water, indicating that he is Avalokiteshvara. Once I finally saw the stele in person, a wave of complete comprehension and appreciation washed over me. What began as a simple research project evolved into a rewarding, thought-provoking experience.

Anime and Manga Summer Camp

Matthew Lasnoski, youth and family programs educator, leads campers on a tour of the Freer’s collection of Japanese art.

Matthew Lasnoski, youth and family programs educator, leads campers on a tour of the Freer’s collection of Japanese art.

Last month, the Freer|Sackler welcomed twenty-one campers to the seventh annual summer camp dedicated to Japanese anime and manga. Throughout the five-day session, the class traced the origins of manga drawing and anime films by exploring the Freer’s collection of Japanese art. To better understand place and setting, campers considered the Japanese screen Pheasants and Cherry Trees, sketching and adapting details to incorporate into their own projects. As the week progressed, the campers encountered a frightening guardian figure and imagined a story panel in which they would have to maneuver past this character. Freer|Sackler staff also taught figure-drawing lessons to build the class’s technical skills.

Taking advantage of the Freer|Sackler’s location on the National Mall, half-day field trips were scheduled to see art around town. Campers visited the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library to see its collection of Japanese graphic novels and ventured to the Smithsonian American Art Museum to view Korean-born artist Nam June Paik’s Electronic Superhighway. This multimedia work showed students how to provide a sense of place in their own works. At the end of the week, campers shared their finished manga-inspired comic books with their parents at an end-of-camp party.

A student carefully works on her anime project during the ImaginAsia workshop.

An eight-year-old student designs her manga-inspired comic book, Marshmello, in the ImaginAsia classroom.

During the school year, the Freer|Sackler offers art-making workshops, drop-in programs, activity guides, and many other ways to enrich family visits. Check out the complete schedule of ImaginAsia family programs.

Friday Fave: Filthy Lucre

Darren Waterston installing "Filthy Lucre" in the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery

Darren Waterston installing “Filthy Lucre” in the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery

My interest in American art is linked to my love of nineteenth-century American literature. Having graduated with a degree in English from Colby College in the spring, I couldn’t wait to explore the Freer’s American art collection and compare the paintings to the nineteenth-century texts I had studied at school. Most importantly, I was looking forward to stepping inside the Peacock Room, the beautiful interior painted by James McNeill Whistler in 1876–77. On the first day of my internship, however, I walked through the Sackler Gallery and entered the exhibition Peacock Room REMIX: Darren Waterston’s Filthy Lucre. The installation reimagines Whistler’s room in a state of decay. I’ve never had much interest in exploring contemporary art, finding more relish in investigating the past than the present. In Waterston’s room, however, I was inspired to reconsider both Whistler’s work and my own thoughts on art and literature.

Filthy Lucre—the centerpiece of Peacock Room REMIX—is inspired by and reconsiders Whistler’s Harmony in Blue and Gold: The Peacock Room, but visitors won’t find harmony in Waterston’s installation. Instead, viewers are confronted with a distorted reflection of Whistler’s iconic room. The slanting shelves, low ceilings, and dilapidated elements made me feel as if the room was closing in around me. The longer I stood in Filthy Lucre, the more susceptible I became to its eerie influence. The walls and the pottery bleed paint, while gold seeps from the wall to the floor. The dim lighting and the red illumination behind the shutters create a warped vision. Deep, booming sounds radiate from different corners of the room, akin to a heartbeat. Voices whisper, as if the room itself is attempting to speak but isn’t loud enough to be fully understood.

The longer I stood in the room, the more alive it seemed to me. This almost supernatural, penetrating quality reminded me of the poetry of Edgar Allen Poe. I found myself drawing comparisons between the Filthy Lucre soundscape and the lugubrious sounds of Poe’s lyrical poetry. Additionally, the aspect of life within the room, the animation of the inanimate and giving voice to art, seemed very similar to Poe’s most famous dark stories. When I walked away from Filthy Lucre, I was somber, moved, and inspired to reconsider nineteenth-century art and literature, viewing them now through a contemporary lens.

Museum TLC: Sound Advice

Visitors take a tour of "Peacock Room REMIX" during Asia After Dark.

Visitors take a tour of “Peacock Room REMIX” during Asia After Dark: PEACOCKalypse.

A recent article in the Washington Post talked about the possible effects of loud music on artworks during large-scale museum events. We hear you and appreciate your concern. In fact, sound, light, temperature, and security are all factors that go into the planning and exhibiting of artworks. How does a museum care for its objects on exhibit while providing interesting, closeup experiences for visitors? Let’s ask the experts.

When I spoke to Beth Duley, head of collections management at the Freer|Sackler, she talked about the delicate balance between care and access. “Smithsonian museums are open 364 days a year, and we host millions of visitors,” she told me, adding, “Maintaining that balance is part of the day-to-day function of our job. In my 25 years at Freer|Sackler, no artwork has ever been damaged at an event.”

According to Jenifer Bosworth, exhibitions conservator, the process of caring for artworks begins long before objects are chosen for exhibition. “Our conservation department ensures that all objects chosen for display are in good condition and that an appropriate level of security for each object is reflected in the exhibition design. Specially made cases and vitrines, as well as custom-built mounts, are all fabricated with the objects’ safety in mind. We want people to get as close as possible, because that’s an amazing part of seeing great works of art in person.”

This preparation keeps artwork protected both during normal wear and tear (the constant vibration of passing trucks, the occasional wayward umbrella) and extraordinary circumstances (the 2013 earthquake that rocked DC). “After the earthquake, I ran into the Peacock Room, and all of the ceramics were still safely held in their specially made mounts,” said Duley.

For special events, such as the museums’ popular Asia After Dark after-hours parties, the entire staff works together. Conservators, curators, and security guards start early and work closely with event planners to map out traffic flow and the placement of speakers, lights, food and drink, and furniture. Conservators and members of the collections management team act as monitors during the event to ensure that all works of art remain safe and sound.

And speaking of sound, what about the issue of loud music in the galleries? Bosworth told me, “If anyone on my team feels that vibrations from a music performance could affect construction materials within the galleries and thus potentially the art, we address the issue immediately.” In fact, the effects of loud music on works of art have been studied in the conservation literature.

We strive to protect our objects on display while providing visitors a variety of ways to experience and learn about our collections. Our staff works together to find the best ways to balance security and access. This allows visitors to return to the Freer|Sackler often, knowing that their favorite works of art will still be here for their children and grandchildren, and the generations to come.

Friday Fave: Silver Rosewater Bottle

Silver rose water bottle; Iran, Buyid period (932–1062); silver gilt; Purchase; F1950.5

Silver rosewater bottle; Iran, Buyid period (932–1062); silver gilt; Purchase; F1950.5

Growing up as an Iranian-American, I could always find a container of rosewater in my family’s kitchen. I never thought much about it until I saw this twelfth-century rosewater bottle on view in the Freer.

The first thing that captured my attention was its intricate workmanship. In the Middle East, rosewater bottles are common items, but I had never seen one so elaborately decorated. What makes the bottle so beautiful is the amount of detail that went into making it, including the depiction of flowers and animals. An inscription in Kufic script around the base of the bottle reads, “And Blessing and good fortune. Blessing and good fortune and joy and happiness and safety and honor and longevity to the owner.”

However, what struck me most about the bottle was not its beauty, but its reason for being. Its sole purpose is to hold rosewater. Rosewater can be used for many purposes and is often used as a flavoring for sweets and drinks. It also has medicinal uses and is prescribed to calm nerves. Its fragrance is used to freshen up mosques. For me, rosewater brings up personal memories. While I was growing up, my mother affectionately called me gole golab, which means “the rose of the rosewater.”

I hope everybody gets a chance to view the bottle before the end of the year, when the Freer closes for renovation. Not only is the rosewater bottle beautiful, it’s an important part of Middle Eastern—and especially Persian—culture.

In case you can’t make it to the museums, the bottle is always on view at Open F|S.