Articles in This Issue
In such stormy times, what does it mean for a museum to be successful? For this, our 101st issue of In Other Words, we asked directors around the world how they evaluate achievement. From balancing the books to broadening the conversation; from creating communities to provoking public debate, museums have complex and differing agendas.
Historically, visitor numbers have been the standard metric, despite the fact that “most museum attendance figures, from a purely scientific point of view, are unverifiable” as the late Okwui Enwezor, the former director of the Haus der Kunst in Munich, said in an interview with In Other Words in mid-December (read the full transcript here). “I truly believe there is a lot of fudging of numbers going on out there,” he said, calling the whole notion of attendance figures and visitor numbers “voodoo economics”.
Most museum attendance figures, from a purely scientific point of view, are unverifiable
His was not a stance against popular exhibitions (“who doesn’t want loads of people to come to an exhibition you create? Of course, that is always a desire.”), but Enwezor felt the mission of a museum was deeper and more expansive— “to engage with the field in as broad and complex a way as is possible for the public to grasp”, he said. “I am a huge believer in the idea of museum citizenship. A museum must also reflect the world that it is a part of, not just blithely rely on cynical popularity.”
Museums should be “of the people and for the people” by generating debate, says Taco Dibbits, director of the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, an institution with “a position in the middle of our society”, he says. “What we try to do is show that history is complex.” In 2020 the Rijksmuseum will be the first national museum in Europe to organize an exhibition on slavery, focusing exclusively on the Dutch colonial period between the 17th and 19th centuries to demonstrate that slavery is an integral part of the country’s history. “We want to show the Dutch public great international art in the context of our collection, on subjects we feel are relevant for our society today,” Dibbets says. “Art has a great capacity to unite people.”
The problem lies in deciding who these people are—a conversation often shaped by who provides funding. In the UK, where most museums’ permanent collections are free to the public and partially subsidized by the government, there is reasonable expectation that public money be put to public good. Attendance, as a graspable measure of this, is a figure that makes sense to the people at the top (“It is the government and the Departure for Digital, Culture Media & Sport who have put most emphasis on numbers,” says Charles Saumarez-Smith, former secretary and chief executive of London’s Royal Academy and now a senior director of Blain Southern gallery.)
National identity is an especially charged conversation in Britain, which is grappling unhappily with Brexit. The slipperiness of determining who the public is and what they want was at the heart of a scandal at the National Portrait Gallery (NPG) in London last year after automated attendance counters found—incorrectly, it would later be discovered—that there had been a drastic drop in the number of visitors. This led to a slew of articles about changing the program to better benefit “the public”. After all, attendance was higher for exhibitions of celebrity photographers and famous male artists than for living, middle-aged, female artists, which was taken as proof by some that the “contemporary art program resonates more with the art world than the public”.
Nobody needs to tell you not to show this, you already know you can’t
Especially when attendance is linked to budgets, there can be pressure to program big, marketable hits—which are often shows dedicated to the great men of Modernism or those bouyed by the effects of celebrity (see The Art Newspaper’s international annual survey of attendance). But museum directors should be wary of reinforcing underlying structural biases, particularly in troubled times when political and cultural conversations are in danger of curdling.
Enwezor talked of shifts taking place in Germany and around Europe as a result of a rising nationalism. The souring political atmosphere “affects the kind of art you can exhibit. Nobody needs to tell you not to show this, you already know you can’t,” he said. “It brings a chill to curating and the ability of institutions and curators to actually undertake more serious work.” The discouragement can be overt. One of Poland’s most significant museums, the European Solidarity Centre in Gdansk, is currently fighting attempts by the country’s cultural ministry to make it less independent. The dispute is mainly centered on how the museum should present the country’s role in the Holocaust. (Let’s not forget that the Degenerate Art exhibitions staged by the Nazis in 1937— sensationalist shows that drew large crowds— were essentially the proto-blockbusters).
“When people engage with different forms of erasure that have occurred in institutions, there are code words to push back against change. Things like ‘quality’ and ‘derivative’—which are actually just subjective terms that do not have anything to do with the issue at hand—tend to be the easy crutch,” Enwezor said. “So, museums have to face up to that and not become self-congratulatory when they present the work of so-called minority artists or underrepresented or under-known artists—they shouldn’t say ‘OK, we have done that now, so let’s turn back to the popular and the populist.’ ”
Of course, populist is a charged word. The UK-based art historian Bendor Grosvenor questions “who decides what is ‘populist’?” adding that it is “a term often used by snobs”. He says: “Good attendance should be the goal of all exhibitions. Any curator who puts on an exhibition knowing people won’t want to see it shouldn’t be a curator. Public museums are not tools for curators to indulge their private fantasies.”
Public museums are not tools for curators to indulge their private fantasies
Yet audience is a measure that should be made to fit. Pitching the exhibitions of work by three women artists at London’s NPG against its blockbusters was disingenuous criticism said the museum’s director Nicholas Cullinan during a recent In Other Words podcast: “You do some exhibitions which won’t reach such a large audience but are important because of your remit. If you didn’t do them, you would be actually abandoning key things that you are meant to be addressing or people that you are meant to be serving,” he said. The idea that exhibitions are in competition with one another is problematic: “Basically, you’re saying that we and possibly other British museums shouldn’t program contemporary artists or women artists if they don’t reach a huge audience. I disagree with that fundamentally,” he said. “It’s important that you do a range of exhibitions over a year.”
Some shows and works of art are supposed to be more solitary than social. Michael Govan, the director of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, points to The Lightning Field (1977), the legendary piece of Land Art by Walter De Maria in remote New Mexico. There are only around 1,000 visitors to the site each year, Govan says, but the work “was meant to last 2,000 years. It is about duration and time. Some things are meant to have longevity because of their persistence. And that’s measurable.”
In contrast, LACMA—an encyclopedic museum in a city of more than four million people—should strive for a large audience, he says. When Govan first joined the museum in 2006, attendance was around 600,000 people each year: “not enough to create impact, critical mass, word of mouth”. Visitor numbers have grown to around 1.5m people each year (before construction started on the scheduled renovation) and Govan sees attendance as “a key tool to create impact—which means to impact peoples’ lives, to educate people, to create an emotional and powerful experience, to change art history or to expand and adjust the canon,” he says. “You can’t do that without attendance.”
There is pressure to compete for the attention of ‘the Netflix generation’
Increasingly important to museum directors around the world are the kinds of audience visiting them: “You can very well as a museum decide you want to attract a different group of visitors, which might lead to a decline in numbers, but that will have achieved the objective that you set,” says Emilie Gordenker, director of the Mauritshuis in the Hague. “Attendance on its own is simply too rough a measure to be meaningful.”
“More important than high attendance figures is the degree of satisfaction of the visitors,” says Benjamin Weil, the artistic director of the Centro Botín in Santander who says that, “in business terms, we would like our visitors to become active stakeholders”. The intention is to spur curiosity, he says. The real challenge however, is to avoid trivialization.
Especially for museums beyond destination cities like New York, London, Paris and Amsterdam, it can be difficult to get the message out. The internet, which many imagined might level the playing field, has in fact fueled the division says Dibbits. “We all thought there would be more spreading of attention, but what we see is that people go to the same things because of the algorithms, which create hotspots.”
In younger cities like Miami, there is pressure to compete for the attention of “the ‘Netflix and chill’ generation where entertainment is constantly streamed into your available screen,” says Franklin Sirmans, director of the Pérez Art Museum Miami. “I believe that the value of the museum, art and artists is becoming greater in the world we live in today, and that an interaction with those things leads to a better future,” he says. “Attendance is but a barometer to let us know how we’re doing in that regard,” he says.
There is perhaps more latitude for museums that either have stable funding or are destinations in their own rights, whether because of their location, collection or building. In Los Angeles, “admission to the Getty and all its exhibitions is free, so revenue-generating exhibitions are not a consideration,” says a spokeswoman for the museum, which has a mission “to seek to advance scholarship and engage audiences in works of art of outstanding quality and historical importance”.
The Guggenheim has building in New York and Bilbao which are visitor attractions in themselves—“the luxury of a world-class building that attracts audiences offers us another kind of flexibility”, says Richard Armstrong, Director of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum and Foundation. At the Rijksmuseum, Rembrandt’s painting The Night Watch (1642) is a gem of the collection which by itself “generates a lot of visitors, which gives us perhaps more freedom than other museums”, Dibbits says.
A more interesting measure than attendance is stickiness
Regardless of the size or wealth of the institution, there is growing awareness of the need to cultivate long-lasting relationships with visitors. “Attendance is a very easy measure though I don’t think any of us solely measure our success by it,” says Glenn Lowry, director of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. “Membership is another measure and in the long run at least as important as attendance. A more interesting measure, at least for me, is stickiness: do people want to visit more frequently and spend more time at the museum looking and thinking about art?” he asks.
Audiences want “to discover new names, new artists, new ideas and follow the strands and thought of people who are conceiving the program,” said Sir Nicholas Serota, the former director of Tate, London, on a recent In Other Words podcast. “The success of an institution is where it has built an audience, that the audience wants to come back rather than just coming once.”
If visitors “aren’t having a meaningful experience, then the numbers aren’t going to last or be deeply important”, says Joanne Heyler, director of The Broad Museum in Los Angeles, which has focused on eliminating some of the traditional barriers to entrance since opening in 2015. From making the museum free for general admission to limiting the amount of didactic wall text in the building, the goal has been to allow the audience more agency, she says: “There is a feeling when you walk in the building, I hope, that this museum is yours.”
Beyond the complexities of visitor happiness and crowd numbers, museums each have different ways of measuring their success. The Mauritshuis has developed a set of key performance indexes, from “grades given by a monthly visit by a ‘mystery guest’, the number of publications by staff members, the advertising value of free publicity in the press, metrics from social media, surveys about our educational offerings,” to give it a more rounded sense of performance, Gordenker says.
At the Centro Botín “art as R&D is a really interesting prospect”, Weil says: it recently signed an agreement with Fundación IE—an organization focused on business and innovation—with the goal of evaluating Botín’s social impact “and more specifically the way the experience of art fosters creativity”.
Are you moving the needle in terms of what museums can be?
The mission of the New Museum in New York is to support new art practices, says its director Lisa Phillips. In addition to considering audience engagement, peer respect and critical reaction, it is important to ask whether the museum is “having a positive impact on the community,” she says. “Are you moving the needle in terms of what museums as cultural, community and social centers can be?”
Scholarship is important, too, Lowry says. “We look at how the different publications we produce are doing: are they selling well and winning awards? What do our peers think about them and our shows? Our trustees mandate a balanced budget and we take that seriously as it is what gives us the opportunity to take risks,” he says. “Success for most museums lies in being fiscally sound and intellectually adventuresome.”
Building a meaningful program that can resonate with visitors, critics, peers and patrons is far from being a straightforward task. “It is very difficult for us to predict what will be popular and what will not,” Phillips says. “Popularity can explode via word of mouth and social media when you don’t expect it, and likewise programs that we thought would have a broad appeal sometimes fail to attract crowds.”
There are a lot of assumptions made about what will be ‘popular’
Exhibitions on tougher, more topical issues such as gender and technology have proven to be some of the New Museum’s biggest crowd pleasers, she says. Equally, two of the most talked-about recent exhibitions in the US have been “The Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power 1963-1983”, a politically minded exhibition about race in America which has just opened at the Broad after touring from Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas, and Tate Modern in London (until 1 September 2019) and “Hilma Af Klint: Paintings for the Future” at the Guggenheim in New York, a show dedicated to a previously unknown Swedish female artist who was creating radical abstract works in a spiritual vein before any of her better-known male counterparts such as Kandinsky (until 23 April 2019). On paper, neither exactly scream blockbuster—but each has generated a huge buzz, impressing critics, the public and the art world alike.
These successes suggest that museums should be wary of underestimating their publics. There are a “lot of assumptions made about what will be ‘popular’,” says Helen Stoilas, The Art Newspaper’s Americas editor. “Hollywood used to do it all the time with their blockbuster films and so we’d only see male, white super heroes because executives assumed that’s what the public wanted to see. Then Wonder Woman and Black Panther came along and blew that thinking out of the water, because what people want to see are characters and stories they can relate to.”
There is a fear factor around the fundability of projects
Some museums can be restrained by their anxiety about finding funders for more niche programs. “There is a kind of mythology, or fear factor, around the fundability of projects but, in my experience, there has certainly been great appetite for programs that might not be as easy,” says Jessica Morgan, director of the Dia Art Foundation. By June last year, Morgan had raised $60m of a targeted $78m for an infrastructural overhaul of the foundation’s sites in New York and overall development of the foundation’s endowment. She purposefully made a strength of the distinctiveness of her program, which focuses on adding overlooked artists to Dia’s collection of art mainly from the 1960s and 1970s, and, in doing so, has attracted like-minded donors. “There is a sense that if you program certain artists then the money will come, and that may be true, but it’s also true that if you run a different kind of organization, the money will come.”
Another common funding misconception is that ‘blockbusters’ generate a lot of income,” Gordenker says, while the reality is more complex. “Popular exhibitions are usually more expensive to organize, so they take more money to start with. Staff and facilities are put under a lot more pressure than usual, so museums often have to spend more in order to hire more people and take care of their buildings. And there is the inevitable hangover after the show has closed, when attendance plummets and everyone is exhausted,” she says. Nonetheless, “sponsors and other stakeholders like to be part of a success story. So as long as the metric of attendance continues to be so dominant, a ‘blockbuster’ will appeal to them.”
You can convince all the marketeers in the world something will be a success but the public is not stupid
Gordenker sees the issue of generating meaningful metrics as relevant to the entire non-profit sector: museums are no different from health organizations or international development agencies in the sense that their ultimate goals “is not necessarily to make money, but to do something else”. Non-profit organizations are instead “faced with the very difficult problem of developing quantifiable measures of success. So, for example, you might aim to acquire artworks of the highest quality, but how do you measure ‘quality’ in numbers? It’s much easier to track attendance than to try to answer that question.”
“There is definitely a tendency in our society to measure success in numbers but there’s a limit to what they can do,” Dibbits says. “You can convince all the marketeers in the world that something will be a success but the public is not stupid—and you have also the responsibility to give them more than they expect.”
This sense of civic obligation is something Armstrong refers to as well. Attendance is, he says, a valuable metric (“it’s especially valuable if your institution needs revenue from the front door”) that can also act as an “index of relevance”, but the numbers should be tempered with a “kind of high-level of responsibility towards younger people in particular, but also society at large, in saying: ‘Are we doing something together that will make us as a people more intelligent, maybe more tolerant and certainly more visually acute?’” He adds: “And if it’s only a few people, is that in itself enough to justify the effort? I would argue frequently yes.”
In Other Insights
Okwui Enwezor, the esteemed former director of the Haus der Kunst, Munich, and a judge of both the Sotheby’s Prize and the Nomura Art Award, died aged 55 on 15 March. In his highly influential career as a curator he directed Documenta (2002) and the Venice Biennale (2015). In this interview, which took place in mid-December, he gives his trenchant views on why attendance figures are not the most important way of judging the quality of museum exhibitions. This interview took the form of a lengthy phone call during which I asked questions, typing answers while we talked. I sent the transcript to Okwui immediately after our conversation because we had been moving on and off record. He felt it “captured quite succinctly what I relayed in my answers” and made a few minor corrections. This is the resulting interview.
In my experience at Haus der Kunst, we did not fail in terms of attendance figures (in fact we experienced a rise in attendance due to some fundamental changes I made by adding non-paying exhibition programs such as the annual art commission in our main hall and creating a permanent gallery for the museum’s historical archive.) What we failed at was in the expectations of what constitutes a successful show. We need to underline the distinction between box office and attendance—and it depends on who is counting and how they are counting—then one can simply make a case for what is and is not successful.
For example, in Munich our magnificent Louise Bourgeois exhibition [Louise Bourgeois, Structures of Existence: The Cells, February 2015—August 2015] attracted a shockingly low attendance of 70,000 visits, yet when the same exhibition travelled to the Garage in Moscow, Guggenheim Bilbao, and the Louisiana Museum outside of Copenhagen it attracted 190,000, 620,000 and 230,000 visitors respectively in each of these venues. This leads to the question of what kind of exhibition the public in Munich wants to see, because certainly the exhibition won the popularity contest in each of these non-German cities.
I also think that attendance figures have to take into consideration the issue of regional versus metropolitan situations of museums. A museum in Munich simply can’t compete with those in London, New York or Paris. But it certainly can in terms of the quality of ideas, scholarship and seriousness. It all depends on what each museum values. Museums that I respect and admire are not based on how crowded they are. After all, one goes to a museum for the quality of the experience, not for the crowd numbers. To my mind most museum attendance figures, from a purely scientific point of view are unverifiable. I truly believe there is a lot of fudging of numbers going on out there.
The whole notion of attendance and visitors was voodoo economics
In our case, part of our budget—like many museums—definitely relied on box office, which is earned income from tickets paid to these exhibitions. It was very clear to me from the beginning that the whole notion of attendance and visitors was voodoo economics. I couldn’t understand how the counting was done. It was immediately clear to me when I arrived that we needed to develop other income streams in order to present a coherent picture of my directorship.
Haus der Kunst does not count visitor numbers, it counts visits to exhibitions, which means the number of clicks. So, you could buy a ticket and go into an exhibition and suddenly have to dash to the bathroom, so exiting the exhibition. When you return, another person at the door with a counter clicks you again. Then, in the middle of the show, you decide to go to the café to get a drink. When you come back to the exhibition, you’re counted again. Now, one could question how that translates to “visitors”. Museums use different euphemisms to arrive at the picture of success which attendance numbers supposedly represent.
I am not saying that visits themselves are the wrong way to count but it does have an impact on box office, so while you may have a high number of visits, you may also have declining income, which presents us with a paradox—those two things do not quite measure up.
However, we do know there are certain reliable formulas to gin up attendance figures. If you wanted to draw a crowd the one option is the three Ms—Manet, Monet, Matisse—they never fail. The triumvirate of early Modernism are reliable crowd-pleasers. And, of course, Picasso stands head and shoulders above everyone else. But even with Picasso it depends on the kind of shows you do, the loans you can obtain and at what time of the season and where the show is presented, as well as what the curatorial conceit is.
If you wanted to draw a crowd, the one option is the three Ms—Manet, Monet, Matisse
I am not in principle against large numbers—who doesn’t want loads of people to come to an exhibition you create? Of course, that is always a desire. But the mission of the museum is not about attendance figures and a mass of visitors—it is to show the complexity of the field of operation, exhibiting both artists who are very well recognized and popular and also artists who are deserving of critical attention. We always have to parse the difference between loved, admired and respected. Each of these play a major role in decision making.
I am not opposed to popular exhibitions: I have made them—my Documenta was visited by hundreds of thousands, as was Venice and others. But, for me, visitor numbers are only one measure and I think we need to be careful that we don’t make them the only measure of success. This is what museums are struggling with. During my tenure at Haus der Kunst I was willing to risk that fundamental misunderstanding in order to champion what I believed was the central mission of our institution, which was to engage with the field in as broad and complex a way as is possible for the public to grasp.
When I first arrived at Haus der Kunst there had not been, at least to my memory, a single monographic retrospective of a female artist in the previous 15 years and I said to my team very clearly that we needed to change that. Of course, there was some grumbling about political correctness—and, by the way, that term shouldn’t be used as a way of avoiding blind spots. I told my team that I wanted the museum to show more women artists as an expression of a critical institutional value and not to fill quotas. I wanted to show more female artists because that is a weakness in the history of the museum and I wanted to correct that, as well as make our program more diverse and show artists from diverse contexts and other parts of the world. It was my belief that there was a necessity to engage artists in a conversation that I feel is happening all around us. I didn’t want us to jump on a bandwagon but to play the role of thought leaders in the conversation not just in the bigger world but in our own unique microclimate in Munich.
A museum must also reflect the world that it is a part of, not just blithely rely on cynical popularity
Exhibitions do not explain themselves and the meanings of artworks are not self-evident so we needed to create programming—lectures, symposiums, conferences and so on—to bring meaning to what we were doing. And that obviously is neither popular nor populist, especially when you feature artists of color.
Because I am a director of color there is an assumption immediately that [diversity] is about me—but it isn’t. While nobody complains about the preponderance of white artists, the moment you exceed a certain number of artists from a certain part of the world, people notice and they think it is an agenda. So, you have to stand up, especially in a monocultural society, and do extra legwork to explain why the kinds of programing you do matters, and why certain kinds of exhibitions should happen.
The retrospective of Hanne Darboven [Hanne Darboven: Enlightenment, September 2015-February 2016] was not elitist—she was the first female German artist of her generation that Haus der Kunst presented in a retrospective and I thought that was proper. Yes, it did not draw a huge public but for me it was a hugely powerful and rewarding exhibition.
Popular v populist
I think that this is a very important issue, especially in the current political climate, not only in Germany but in Europe, in terms of the nationalist sentiment that is beginning to not only to become mainstream but to become normalized.
I remember when the refugee crisis initially started, I addressed my team and said this is a very serious issue and we really need to think of ways to engage, which might not be through an exhibition but it may involve programs or other things we can bring on board to show awareness. In fact, we did do a panel discussion immediately after the refugee crisis started. I am a huge believer in the idea of museum citizenship. A museum must also reflect the world that it is a part of, not just blithely rely on cynical popularity
I was also very much concerned about the term “refugee” because it had become shorthand for immigrants in general—it doesn’t really matter who you are, because it’s about the moment you look different and “Other”. So, we had to be careful in terms of broadening knowledge and to pay attention so we didn’t fall into the trap of repeating stereotypes that were going around. When you look at the political campaign posters in Munich, they are deeply disheartening, and the way immigrants are referred to and the way refugees are dehumanized, the language of politicians and so on.
It doesn’t matter who you are, because it’s about the moment you look different and “Other”
I feel there was a moment in the 1990s when it appeared that Germany was really much more open and accepting of the fact that there were immigrants in its midst. This is very difficult to speak about because you don’t want to personalize it, but I have two examples relating to me. The day after I was announced as a director of Haus der Kunst in 2011, a Berliner Zeitung journalist Ingeborg Ruthe wrote the most nauseating racist article about my appointment and what it meant, about my role as a champion of African art and all of that. The headline of the report was “An African in Haus der Kunst”. She wrote that, in reality, I was just a global player, actually a New Yorker, and then concluded that I am a person who in Africa is referred to as a “coconut”—brown on the outside and white on the inside. I am not joking. It was so appalling that I didn’t know whether to start my tenure by writing a letter of protest to the editors or to just simply ignore it. Ultimately, I ignored it, but it remains vivid in my memory.
The second example was a writer for the Süddeutsche Zeitung, Susanne Hermanski. She wrote such aggressive and unbelievable nonsense about me and Haus der Kunst. Firstly, about my lack of commitment to the city of Munich, and generally to Germany, because I didn’t speak German. I mean, the people who hired me knew I didn’t speak German and that wasn’t a problem at all. It was a code used to speak about the lack of integration of immigrants common in right-wing rhetoric. In any case, I did not view myself as an immigrant. I hadn’t migrated to Germany, I was recruited for the job.
Secondly, she said that nobody knows anything about my private life in Munich. I wondered who wanted to know and why that was relevant. Finally, the outrage she expressed when I took up the position of artistic director of the Venice Biennale was just incredible. But I became very much upset about the comments about my not speaking German, which was a kind of constant refrain in the press here, and the description of me being an enigma. Again, it has this idea of the unknowable foreigner—whatever that means.
You go through your job in a climate like this, with these incredible forms of depersonalization and naked racial animosity. Thank goodness in the last election populism did not win. But nonetheless, the extremist racist Alternative für Deutschland won 11%—how could this be? The campaign for “heimat”, homeland, of course is code word—and those code words are grist for the mill of white nationalist violence, be it in Charlottenburg, Leipzig, Strasbourg or Naples.
There are code words to push back against change. Things like “quality” and “derivative”—which are actually just subjective terms that do not have anything to do with the issue at hand—tend to be the easy crutch
Such violence exists not only in Germany but in the popular imagination. When people engage with different forms of erasure that have occurred in institutions, there are code words to push back against change. Things like “quality” and “derivative”—which are actually just subjective terms that do not have anything to do with the issue at hand—tend to be the easy crutch. So, museums in general have to face up to that and not become self-congratulatory when they present the work of so-called minority artists or underrepresented or under-known artists—they shouldn’t say “OK, we have done that now, so let’s turn back to the popular and the populist.”
Of course, this affects the kind of art you can exhibit. Nobody needs to tell you not to show this, you already know you can’t, so you create a climate that leads to a lack of curiosity and critical inquiry. It brings a chill to curating and the ability of institutions and curators to actually undertake more serious work. I am just hoping the curators left at the Haus der Kunst will be able to continue to defend the importance of these ideals and the value system I tried to bring to the institution while also charting their own path in the organization.
The cancelation of the Joan Jonas [in 2018] was done through the false claim of budget shortfall—whatever has been given as the reason why is not true. And right after that they also canceled Adrian Piper’s show, which was organized by MoMA and the Hammer with Haus der Kunst. They canceled it specifically because they said it was too expensive and would not be popular, that is what I heard—it was canceled after I left. So, the chickens have come home to roost. And, of course, these were two major female artists.
For me the whole idea of running an institution through reliance on blockbusters is not sustainable. We have to find another way of running credible institutions that are well-visited and popular but without sacrificing the other important things that are part of our field and value system. If museums are packed with people but still believe they need the support of blockbusters then there is a problem—if museums want to have blockbusters even though they have 60 million visitors a year, well, that’s a tension between visitor numbers and box office.
Sometimes the economics of having a very popular museum become unsustainable… Just add it up. Sometimes it becomes not really worth it because the popular shows are also the most expensive. Of course, I am not saying museums should depress their own visitor numbers willingly but these are things to consider when you talk about popularity—the costs, and the toll on staff.
One other thing is how you measure the success of every museum director in America who either retires or goes somewhere else—nobody ever talks about their intellectual achievements. It’s just noted that they expanded the building and doubled the number of visitors. It’s purely neoliberal mumbo jumbo. It’s not about content or equity or anything else. No, their achievement is just the amount of money raised to build a new wing named after some… oligarch.
In Other Insights
In Allan's Intro
This, the 101st issue of In Other Words, was inspired by conversations with Okwui Enwezor about what success looks like and so it seems poignant that it is now also a tribute to him.
Okwui died on 15 March, aged 55, after a three-year struggle with a cancer that did not steal his vigor or drive until the very end. He had an unmatched ability to spark new thought in other people. He began his career as a writer and would, for the rest of his life, use language with the precision and force of a poet.
He brought new concepts and overlooked art to our attention, pushing through doors that were closed to him and, in doing so, clearing space for others to follow. Okwui maintained a position of challenge and embrace: pushing the art world to be more dynamic and inclusive while enabling others to believe in the possibility of those ideals.
His was a brilliant mind and he was unafraid to speak it. A frank discussion between Okwui and In Other Words editor Charlotte Burns about the value of museums (“Voodoo Economics and Populism“) led to a larger story (“Money, Morals and Metrics“), which in turn engendered an unprecedented response—65 pages of interviews—from museum directors and curators around the world about how they measure institutional success. Such was the genius of Okwui: he demanded deeper thinking from all of us.
The passing of Okwui is a great loss to us and to the entire field of contemporary art and art history. His pioneering work has been central to defining the critical issues of art in our time. He curated some of the most important, profound, poetic and influential exhibitions of the past 30 years. His work indeed changed the way the world looks at art, the art it looks at—and our idea of the potential of art for transforming human awareness.
I am grateful for his invaluable contributions to two major awards that we have helped create over the past few years: the Sotheby’s Prize and the Nomura Art Award. His wisdom, ideals, insights and values helped form the ethos of both prizes, shaping their vision for future generations, and his clarity more than once guided the jurors to new understandings of specific candidates. We have gained immeasurably from his commitment and wisdom, from his brilliance of mind and generosity of spirit.
Art Agency, Partners is a bespoke art advisory firm founded in 2014, and built upon decades of combined experience, to provide counsel to many of the world's leading art collectors and institutions on collection assessment and development, estate planning, and innovative approaches to museum giving and growth.