IMA: it’s my art.

Oh and were they right; it was art of my liking indeed!

On a recent jaunt through the midwest, I decided to stop by the IMA. Yes, that’s the Indianapolis Museum of Art and yes, there is art in Indiana (I now realize). The recently renovated building is grandiose to say the least. Large glass doors open into a lobby of sorts where they ask you for your zip code but not for a monetary entrance fee. What? Did I just step into a black hole in the crossroads of America that took me to a land where museums are free!? Surely I must have, because not only was there no “cover” for the IMA, but the art inside it’s walls was quite impressive as well (not to mention the walls themselves).

On the main level of galleries, you enter the great hall via floor-to-ceiling automatic glass doors circa “insert cliche reference to outer-spacey film or TV show here.” Immediately, you are amid the three-story tall center of the museum. Galleries spur off this central hub of sorts, while a Sol Le Witt installation garnishes an entire wall, ceiling to floor. However, the Le Witt sketch is not the main attraction in the great hall; it’s the Robert Irwin that takes the cake.

Robert Irwin, Light Space III, 2008

I’m not even sure where to begin. Is it standing in the center of the room staring at the 60-foot tall installation that got me? Is it the interjections of color as people pass up and down the escalators that dissect it’s grid-like pattern? Or is it the apparent movement of the sections as you walk by from the adjacent balconies? Perhaps it’s all of these things combined that make this piece the success it is. I happened to be visiting the museum on a day when it was not particularly busy so I was able to spend plenty of time frozen, engulfed in the light spilling off of this 60×60-foot commission. I highly recommend you do the same. But no rush, because it is a permanent installation celebrating the museum’s 125th anniversary. Apparently there’s been art in Indiana that long. Who knew?

As you walk through the rest of the museum (yes there’s more), you quickly realize that Indy isn’t messing with you on this one. From famous masters (or refrigerator magnets) to contemporary works by some serious names (Viola, Turrell, Judd, Holzer!!!, Casebere, and countless others), it’s clear that someone here is really trying. All in all, I was surprised to discover that there is art for seemingly everyone at the museum, except maybe readers of “Clay Times” (but who cares about those people, really).

However, with every museum visit or gallery perusal, you are bound to overhear a few things that will be engraved into your head for all eternity. Making you wish that you would have remembered to bring your iPod with you to drown out the stupidity. Here’s a few I heard during my visit at the IMA:

 

Winslow Homer, The Boat Builders, 1873

Woman: “Oh, Homer. He did that famous one.”
Woman to her husband: “Did he do the famous one with the loaf of bread?”
Husband: “You know that movie The Old Man and the Sea? I thinks that’s where it originated from.” 

 

Rudolf de Crignis, Painting #03-08, 2003

Man: “That one’s called Untitled for a reason, I could do that one with a roller.”

 

James Turrell, Acton, 1976

Little Girl: “That’s not real.”
Woman in Room: “What’s not real?”
Little Girl: “That [points to Turrell's piece].”
Woman in Room: “What, the hole in the wall?”

 

 Robert Irwin, Light Space III, 2008

Museum Guard: “I’m sorry sir, you can’t photograph the installation. It’s in the agreement we signed with the guy. You know, he’s still alive and all.”