CommentMay06 - Page: 1 of 1

What is art? What is opera art? Since the Met is now displaying six major pieces for its upcoming season, as part of its new image campaign, we thought it fair game for comment.
First, a word about art in general.
Note the painting on the left by Cape artist Shawn Lütz. Study it for a moment. Look at the position of the singer’s hands. Observe the detail of the score she is holding as well as the lighting on the harp, her chest and face. Study her face closely. Hasn't she lovely cheekbones? What do you see in her expression? What images does this painting evoke of singers and their dedication to their profession? What general thoughts does it prompt as you study it?
True art, like true anything else, prompts us to ask these basic questions. Art not only stimulates our surface senses, but triggers the ephemeral and ethereal as well.
Now imagine, upon entering the Met, a half dozen larger-than-life paintings like this decorating the walls of the lobby – scenes from current productions captured on canvas or board for the audience to enjoy: majestic, beautiful, inspirational.
If you can imagine this, hold the image dear, for you will see none of it on the Met's walls, at least not this go-around.
We have been given a peek at the season’s offerings, and they are curious selections to say the least, nutty to be more acurate.

We bring this up now because like others on the Met’s mailing list, the 2006-2007 brochure announcing the new season has been delivered, and we think it’s fair to say that the brochure is a true work of art in itself, printed on the kind of paper stock with color reproductions inside that, with a few changes and additions, could sell at the Met gift store itself as a fine coffee table book.
We were less impressed with the contemporary art exhibit highlighted therein and which will adorn the walls of the lobby for the upcoming 2006-2007 season. The brochure states that the selections “are reproductions of art works by leading contemporary artists, inspired by this season’s new production.”
If this is so, somebody at the Met doesn’t know their art.
Let’s examine what the Met offers.
One painting, “Madame Butterfly Isn’t Dead” by Richard Prince (pictured below) is of a skull imposed atop an outstretched winged butterfly. The wings ostensibly represent crossed bones. The title of the opera, “Madame Butterfly” is underneath in block letters, as one might expect the letters to be glued to the bottom of a ransom note. Think “graffiti” or maybe even "sado" art and that’s what it is. This work, courtesy of the Gladstone Gallery, is a stretch, but at least there’s something of a connection between the painting and the opera it is supposed to introduce. But is it really art? Did it really take talent to produce, or was it more ego at play when the artist put it together?

For the opera “Orfeo ed Eudice” the Met offers, well, an untitled work by Barnaby Furnas, courtesy of the Marianne Boesky Gallery. It’s hard to guess what it is that the artist is offering with this abstract work (pictured, right) but any relationship to music or opera is clearly not there. Maybe we’re just supposed to imagine what the connection is.
Two other paintings are what one might call beginners art. The pieces are truly sophomoric.
“Rosina” by Sophie von Hellermann for “Il Barbiere de Siviglia” from the Greene Naftali Gallery, N.Y., and “Princess Yue-Yang” by Makiko Kudo (pictured right) representing “The First Emperor”, courtesy of Greene Naftali, say nothing about opera or its spectacle – although the Rossini piece might be interpreted as a scene from “Il Barbiere”. Maybe!
The painting, “Helena” by John Currin, for “Die Ägyptische Helena” is actually a modest work of art and depicts in pale sepia tones the laughing face of a woman, head tossed back and chin raised. It’s doubtful the face says anything about Helen of Troy or even opera in general, but it is a woman. Its connection to opera is tenuous at best and more likely non-existent.

The work for “Suor Angelica”, "Il Tabarro" and "Gianni Schicchi", under the heading "Il Trittico", courtesy of the artist, Cecily Brown, and the Gagosian Gallery, is a fine painting in the style of impressionism – but what's the connection. Wasn’t this art supposed to represent what was occurring inside during the season? Where’s the relationship here? Again, there isn't any.
The simple truth is, this selection is not representative, and of the “Butterfly” piece in particular, the skull and crossbones imagery is totally inappropriate. What was the artist thinking? What is the Met thinking?
In each case it’s as if the Met simply took what was offered because it was supposed to be from “leading contemporary artists” -- the the rest of us are supposed to be impressed. Rubbish!
Didn’t the Met provide any guidelines? Weren’t there any production photos or sketches available the artists could sketch from?
So what does all this mean?
As with some contemporary composers and critics who view musicality and melody with utter disdain, far too many contemporary artists follow the same logic and paint for themselves and the critics in the art world who, like their contemporaries in the music world, think the rest of us are just ill-informed when it comes to what they are doing. We are not! We understand exactly what they are doing!
Curator Dodie Kazanjian, Vogue's editor-at-large, who is advising Mr. Gelb on the selection of works to adorn the hallways of the Met is missing the point of art and has a curious eye for what accomplishes the Mets stated mission.
The Met deserves better; the patrons and friends of the Met deserve better; the audience deserves better. Keep the skull and crossbones and pseudo art in avant-garde galleries and artist studios where it belongs, and search out art and artists that are capable of painting what is going on inside the Met. As the promo says, the art is supposed to be about opera, not what is occupying an artist’s mind.
The Shawn Lütz painting pictured above: “The Score” from the Winstanley-Roark Fine Art Gallery in Dennis, MA, is an example of representational art that not only speaks to our hearts but gives us a glimpse of the beauty and intensity of a young singer as she prepares, perhaps, an aria in recital or rehearsal. It makes us think; it inspires us to look deeper and wonder, and in one respect, it even evokes awe and appreciation for the artist’s talent and his or her exacting eye for detail. That, after all, is what art is supposed to do.
We’re sorry to be so critical here, but this Met selection is a sad commentary in itself of the hauteur mentality that dominates some of the art world and obviously the art director at the Met. When you enter the lobby of the Met, as with any major house, the idea is to be drawn in and seduced into the world of opera by everything around you. Everything that opera is supposed to be to those of us who appreciate it, these paintings aren’t.
It’s unfortunate that the Met has come up with such a dubious offering for the grand introduction to its new era. We can only hope the future will hold more promise.