SFMOMA is a playhouse for Art of Participation

Matthias Gommel, Delayed.

I have been a good little museum-goer. I stand behind the line, implied or drawn out for me. I don’t touch the art. I don’t argue with the guards. I always visit the gift shop.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to stand right next to the sculpture, the painting, (what have you) and pose for my shot of “Kate and Les Demoiselles d’Avignon.”  Or run my hands over the contours of a Brancusi.

Thank goodness Rudolf Frieling, SFMOMA’s curator media arts, came along with The Art of Participation (November 8, 2008 - February 8, 2009). Now I can touch and make art, not just regard it from a safe distance.  

The Participation-Based Art scene, though hardly new, is enjoying a flux of interest as the generation that came of age with the internet forcibly changes the experience of art from one of passivity—staring up at oil on canvas from a safe distance or sitting still for three hours during a performance—to making, testing, and playing with art.  For a generation allegedly plagued by hyperactivity, it’s interactivity that is defining it. 

Lygia Clark, Rede de elástico.

The Art of Participation presents a survey of work from the movement starting in 1950 until today.  Viewers work their way through a veritable playhouse of gadgets and media experiences designed to include their input.  

Below, I’ve highlighted some of my favorites.  

Janet Cardiff, The Telephone Call, 2001.  SFMOMA commissioned Cardiff for one of her audio walking tours back in 2001 and the work fits nicely into the current exhibit.  Pick up a camcorder at the Info Desk and let Cardiff’s soft voice guide you as you watch her journey through the museum on screen. Her directives are firm but gentle, pushing the user to enter (literally) forbidden spaces.

Rafael Lozano-Hemmer, Microphones, 2008.  A ring of microphones from the 1930s sits in the middle of darkened room illuminated by a dim spotlight.  Murmur, scream, or just talk into them.  A few moments later, you hear your utterance intertwined with someone else’s, creating a wacky conversation between you and viewers who are no longer in the room.

Matthias Gommel, Delayed, 2002.  More fun with audio! As you climb the stairs to the third floor, you will see two sets of headphones dangling from the ceiling.  Both are equipped with microphones (they look like pilot headphones).  You and a partner talk into them…and wait.  Your speech comes back at a slower pace.  This causes untold gales of laughter.

Jochen Gerz, The Gift.

Lygia Clark, Rede de elástico (Elastic Net), 1973/2008.  My friend Jessica was beyond tickled by this one.  A weaving made of thick rubber bands lies on the floor.  You are invited to add to it from a box of loose rubber bands.  She and another person stood on either end and picked up the weaving, leaning back and allowing it to support their weight.  The thought of stretching (desecrating) a weaving in a museum makes the prim schoolmarm in me squirm but the guards were the ones who encouraged her in this experiment. 

Jochen Gerz, The Gift, 2000/2008.  Vanity, posterity, curiosity—it doesn’t matter what motivates you to take part in this photo work.  You pose for a portrait but you are asked to show an honest face to the camera.  Your picture is hung in the museum with countless others and catalogued online.   On the closing day of the exhibit, February 8, you’ll return to the museum where the artist will distribute the photos.