Whose Muse?: Art Museums and the Public Trust

by John Walsh (Contributor), Philippe de Montebello (Contributor), Glenn D. Lowry (Contributor)

During the economic boom of the 1990s, art museums expanded dramatically in size, scope, and ambition. They came to be seen as new civic centers: on the one hand as places of entertainment, leisure, and commerce, on the other as socially therapeutic institutions. But museums were also criticized for everything from elitism to looting or illegally exporting works from other countries, to exhibiting works offensive to the public taste.




Whose Muse? brings together five directors of leading American and British art museums who together offer a forward-looking alternative to such prevailing views. While their approaches differ, certain themes recur: As museums have become increasingly complex and costly to manage, and as government support has waned, the temptation is great to follow policies driven not by a mission but by the market. However, the directors concur that public trust can be upheld only if museums continue to see their core mission as building collections that reflect a nation's artistic legacy and providing informed and unfettered access to them.

The book, based on a lecture series of the same title held in 2000-2001 by the Harvard Program for Art Museum Directors, also includes an introduction by Cuno and a fascinating--and surprisingly frank--roundtable discussion among the participating directors. A rare collection of sustained reflections by prominent museum directors on the current state of affairs in their profession, this book is without equal. It will be read widely not only by museum professionals, trustees, critics, and scholars, but also by the art-loving public itself.

Genres: Art, Art History, Nonfiction, Museology, Museums

208 pages, Paperback

First published December 29, 2003

Reviews

[Brian Hutzell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Editor/contributor James Cuno states upfront that “I was not looking for representative viewpoints from across the profession.” He is not providing a platform for “aggressive, risk-taking, expansionist,…audience-building, community-activist directors.” Instead, “I wanted to offer an alternative to these viewpoints.” Cuno and his co-authors present their case for a more traditional understanding of what it means to be an art museum. They also discuss the relationship between museums and the public, with trust as a key element of that relationship. Six excellent, thoughtful essays are followed by a roundtable discussion that all museum professionals would do well to read, whether or not they agree with the opinions here expressed.

[Alice Rojas · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very one toned for a collection of essays, I didn’t find what I was looking for until Montebello’s essay which was last

[Katrinka]

I can't offer any review or commentary on this collection that comes anywhere close to Paul Werner's Museum, Inc.

[Theanoe Christos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good read if you have spent time working in museums. I found the last essay quite poignant.

[Bruce · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a compilation of essays that emerged from a 9 month symposia (Oct. 2001 to June 2002) called "Museums and the Public Trust" hosted by the Harvard Program for Art Museum Directors. It gathers the former director of the Harvard Program, along with museum leaders from the Met, MOMA, the National Gallery (London) and British Museum, the Getty, and the Art Institute of Chicago. Heavy-hitters all, but notably missing contributions from the (largely recently publicly disgraced) leadership from the Smithsonian and other DC-area stalwarts (who themselves receive but one line's worth of mention, surprising in a work which emphasizes political stresses on museum activities, albeit limiting its scope to the actions of art museums).

In part, the book/lecture series' self-assessment appears to be less derivative of post-9/11 traumatic stress than a response to two essays published at the time: Roberta Smith's "Memo to Art Museums: Don't Give Up on Art," and "Michael Kimmelman's "Museums in a Quandary; Where are the Ideals?" both of which are highly praised here. The Guggenheim complex and Brooklyn Art Museum draw the heaviest fire, the former for the "crassness" of exhibitions like Giorgio Armani and the perceived dilution of mission that comes from opening and building sister museums around the world (Las Vegas, Brazil, and Barcelona); the latter for its sensationalist marketing of Sensation, the Saatchi exhibit, unfortunately surreptitiously subsidized by Saatchi, the owner of the artwork on display.

It is for the most part readable and wide-ranging in scope, the authors largely preferring that museums retain a somewhat misanthropic presence for visitors to view the original versions of singular works of art in a 'pure' environment, meaning one devoid of other distractions (including other artwork and other people). While I found some of these arguments compelling, I did feel that short shrift was given to what I had always regarded as the central source of museum authority: its founding mission statement(s). This is glossed over with unintentional irony by Art Institute of Chicago director James Wood on p. 120, who writes, "The authority of mission is so central that it could be easily overlooked," but then gives it only one paragraph's worth of coverage in a 25-page long essay. The book does stimulate thinking about the purpose of the art museum in American society, and for that reason, will certainly be of interest to museum professionals on busman's holiday or curious casual readers seeking to slum it with the cultural elite.

[Liz De Coster · Rating 2 out of 5]

I found this book a little one-note, for a collection of essays. The same sources were quoted repeatedly, the same points made in the same way by different authors. I'm interested in reading Cuno's other book, Who Owns Antiquity?, since it sounds more cohesive (and more in my area of interest).

[J.R.]

Not my thing.

[Erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not sure why James Wood gets credit as the author here. His essay was almost as bad as Montebello's.