In my discussion I introduced the issue of viewing the exhibition of
portraiture in the particular space of the Pulitzer. This topic
involved one of the primary themes of the exhibit—“embodiment”—but went
beyond the issue of how the subjects of the portraits were embodied in
the object, or how our experience of works were mediated by
phenomenological conditions of scale, distance, and corporeal
relationship to specific objects, but rather how our experience with
objects, and the exhibition as a whole, was conditioned, mediated, or
perhaps even determined by Tadao Ando’s gallery and what I see as the
aestheticized nature of the building.
This was a difficult
issue to introduce since it is grounded, of course, in a subjective
experience. However, the questions I wanted to raise were these: how,
exactly, were our experiences of and relationships to works mediated by
the aesthetic environment and how did this affect our readings of
works, and to what degree did the space condition or determine the
quality and nature of the exhibit? That is, was there a way in which we
can see the space as somehow “trumping” the experience of the exhibit,
in a sense controlling how we both negotiate the works and how the
exhibit and objects were arranged? And to what degree does this modify
the educational strategies of the exhibit as pronounced in the
catalogue and other statements? To my mind the Pulitzer building is an
exceptional and stimulating example of a modernist gallery. Made
largely of bare concrete, stripped of ornament, structured with right
angles, and composed around a grand, light-filled (and apse-like) main
gallery, the space presents itself as a rarified environment, one meant
to be aesthetically and perhaps spiritually transcendent from the
everyday. One of the questions at the heart of my discussion, then, was
how does this aesthetic experience condition, or maybe even preclude,
our psychological connection with both the objects and their human
subjects? How does it transform the functions of the portraits, and the
exhibit as a whole? Does this create an alienating distance—in
psychological and emotional terms—between us and the subjects of the
portraits, or does it create a necessary condition of detached
contemplation for the objects? Although the responses to this
discussion were varied, introducing this concept seemed to relate to a
common theme of the symposium as to how the qualities, characteristics,
and identity of a person or group of people can be (or not) adequately
conveyed through material signs. These questions, then, broadened this
context into thinking about the environmental conditions in which these
signs are absorbed.











