A blog about the activities of the Museum Career Internship Program, a partnership between The American Folk Art Museum and LaGuardia Community College. Support for this program is provided by Richard and Laura Parsons, the Schaffner Family Foundation, Jane and Gerald Katcher, Donald and Rachel Strauber, and the LaGuardia Community College Foundation.
When observing all the different works and mediums during my recent visit to the American Folk Art Museum I realized that the concept of “multitudes” is truly shown. Art can express a variety of experiences and different talents from almost all walks of life. From paintings and quilts to sculptures and drawings, each of the 400-plus works in the MULTITUDES exhibit holds a different history and a different perspective which truly embodies the meaning of folk art. I realized how vast folk art can be, how the scale of self taught art can branch out into all concepts and fields of work.
Installation view of MULTITUDES at the American Folk Art Museum. Photo credit: Olya Vyotskaya
The differences between each work of art really allowed me to recognize my own interests within MULTITUDES. It wasn’t a surprise to me that the quilts were my favorite pieces in the exhibit. While interning at the museum I learned about Gee’s Bend. Starting in the 19th century, women who were descendants of enslaved African Americans working on an Alabama cotton plantation owned by Joseph Gee started making these intricate and creative quilts. Decades down the line these amazing quilts have been exhibited in art galleries and museums. What started as bed covers have become art pieces to be hung on a wall and showcased. The geometric patterns and color symmetry woven into the quilts are so beautiful.
Lucy Mingo (b.1931); Denim Housetop Quilt; Gee’s Bend Alabama, c. 2001; Cotton; 77 x 87 inches; Gift of David Gordon in memory of Margaret Gordon. Photo credit: Olya Vyotskaya
This particular quilt was made by Lucy Mingo, one of Gee’s Bend’s leading spokespeople during the civil rights movement. As quilts hold a strong prevalent history, this art form reminds me of my childhood bed, bringing forth a nostalgic, comforting feeling. I can imagine taking it off the wall and wrapping it around myself. But also it reminds me of art during the abstract expressionist era and the connotation with evoking emotion through shape and color.
Installation view of Susan Te Kahurangi King’s drawings in MULTITUDES. Photo credit: Olya Vyotskaya
Another artist whose work I loved, which is completely on the opposite spectrum of art, is Susan Te Kahurangi King. Her whimsical, cartoonish drawings are made with graphite and many other drawing tools. King’s work emphasizes color with some bright and some neutral colors that come together in a repeating pattern. The repetition of patterns and colors somewhat distorts the characters depicted in these drawings. Although still representational, these characters are bent, warped, and curved into one harmonious drawing where you can’t necessarily grasp any accurate action taking place.
Susan Te Kahurangi King (b. 1951); Untitled; Auckland, New Zealand, c. 1978; graphite and crayon on paper; Gift of KAWS
To explore MULTITUDES in person, visit the museum’s website for a free ticket.
Zeitgeist (literally in German: Timeghost)—the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time.
Give up the ghost—to die, (of a machine) stop working.
Giving up the (Zeit)Geist is a series of small articles dedicated to the spirits of crafts long buried.
In the American Folk Art Museum’s collection, bygone eras are represented in many artistic trades and traditions. Some of these arts are still alive and well today—the quilts of Gee’s Bend are getting some much-deserved recognition, and while traditions like embroidery and carpentry take many new forms in the current age, their roots are strong and their practices known.
But many more of these arts are ghosts. Even a brief perusal of the museum’s vast collection storage space in Queens, NY—or the much more public-facing show MULTITUDES, designed to mirror the eclectica that characterizes the collection—yields many more products of crafts laid to rest than those still with us. Some of these items have been made obsolete, some have gone out of fashion, and some were never very popular in the first place. For myriad reasons, they have gone the way of the vinyl record, the table lighter, the monocle and the cigarette holder: all parlances of a different cultural language, a precursor to our own, that we instinctively understand but no longer speak. They are no less intriguing because of that, and are often quite a bit more beautiful for it.
Giving up the (Zeit)Geist is a series of small articles dedicated to the spirits of crafts long buried. First up: trade signs of the late 19th century.
Pocket Watch Trade Sign; Artist Unidentified; Location: United States; 1875–1900; paint on cast metal; 15 x 2 3/4 inches; Gift of Laura Harding; Photo: Gavin Ashworth
The history of trade signs is a very long one. All indication points toward painted signs being present in some form since antiquity, and the symbolic nature of these signs is borrowed from a time before literacy was common1. These were often purely representative of their trade, with no lettering of any kind.
Tooth Trade Sign; Artist unidentified; Location: Probably New England, U.S.; c. 1850–1880; Paint on wood with metal; Dimensions: 26 × 12 1/4 × 11 1/4″; Gift of Kristina Barbara Johnson; Photo Credit: Gavin Ashworth
Standing just over two feet tall, the Tooth Trade Sign is as clear a trade symbol as any. It’s estimated date of completion is anywhere from 1850 to 1880, a period during which dentistry was experiencing many innovations. Patrons passing under this sign when it was new could probably expect anything from hand-drills (held like a pencil and twirled) to a pedal drill modeled after sewing machines of the day, to the very first electrified drills.Their fillings might be of tree resin, of gold foil, or an amalgam of silver and mercury. Should they require dentures, they hoped for a choice between ivory or the much-preferred French porcelain.2 It now hangs in the MULTITUDES show at AFAM, not far from its likely origin in New England.
Hanging Sheep Shop Sign; Artist unidentified; Northeastern United States, Canada, or England; Mid-nineteenth century; Paint and traces of gold leaf on wood with metal Dimensions: 33 × 38 × 9″; Gift of Ralph Esmerian; Photo Credit: John Bigelow Taylor
Ah, the hanging sheep sign. It is easy to imagine this sheep hanging among many other symbols—watches, bicycles, bottles and horseshoes—floating above a river of busy folk as it flows through some crowded market street. As teeth were the avatar for dental practitioners, so sheep were to merchants that dealt in cloth, textiles, and most predominantly, in wool.
Taken out of its originally intended context, Hanging Sheep Shop Sign still does as it is intended: It attracts the eye with naturalistic lines and a pleasing silhouette. The ripples of carved wood evoke the ribbing of wool that forms on a sheep’s flanks in an elegantly representative way. The ears droop and the hooves dangle convincingly. Perhaps the most convincing element in the piece is the little spark of affection and pity that leaps up in me as I gaze at the poor sheep, who has been suspended for so many generations from a metal band—and probably will for generations more.
To see these two beautiful pieces of history, visit the American Folk Art Museum’s show MULTITUDES, at which you will find these and many other works of no-longer-common arts. For more spotlights on crafts that occupy the eddies in the river of time, look for the next Giving up the (Zeit)Geist.
1 Stacy C. Hollander, “Tooth Trade Sign,” in American Anthem: Masterworks from the American Folk Art Museum (New York: Harry N. Abrams in association with American Folk Art Museum, 2001), 335
2 Sherri Chasin Calvo, The Birth of a Profession: Dentistry in the Nineteenth Century (Encyclopedia.com, Science and Its Times: Understanding the Social Significance of Scientific Discovery. Encyclopedia.com. 28 Feb. 2022 <https://www.encyclopedia.com>.)
Exciting things are happening at the Self-Taught Genius Gallery. The popular New York Experiencedexhibition has come to a close, and as we say “see you later” to some of our favorite pieces (Gregorio Marzan’sCentaur, for one), we are already rolling on fresh layers of paint for the next exhibition, A Piece of Yourself: Gift Giving in Self-Taught Art. In this case the “we” are the talented art handlers on staff that make the transition between exhibitions smooth and ensure that each new installation is lit and hung perfectly. This is not their first rodeo.
During the week of installation, the gallery is a mix of artwork and hardware. The pieces are brought out from storage and before any nails are hammered, they are placed roughly in their future spot. One piece is out for conservation, and there is a piece of paper cut to the same dimensions serving as a place holder until it arrives. Pedestals are brought out and the skeleton of the exhibition is in place. Nothing is placed arbitrarily, either. In the lead up to each exhibition, assistant curator Steffi Ibis Duarte has worked on scaling, grouping, and laying out each piece so that the show is not only visually stunning, but follows a narrative that will give visitors a full experience when visiting the Self-Taught Genius Gallery.
One of the final steps is putting the text on the wall. Graphic Designer Kate Johnson designs all of the labels and wall texts for each exhibition at the museum and Self-Taught Genius Gallery. Wall text not only gives the guests information on the ‘what’ and ‘why’ of the show – the font, design and layout of the text act as a visual introduction to the whole exhibition.
Here is a wider look at the work station that the crew is using to make sure 3-D objects are safe while their boxes and pedestals are being moved around. The foam pieces on the floor are also used as protection for the framed works that are waiting to be hung.
Organized chaos: Tape, ladders and protective blankets populate the gallery space. Our professional art handlers are hard at work–measure twice and hammer once–and are an integral part of the operation.
Objects are starting to be hung! The piece of paper on the wall is being used as a placeholder for a piece that was out for conservation, but is currently on its way back.
Museum Career Internship Program 