But even with a no touching policy, museum visitors continue to do so, whether by accident, by ignorance, or by sometimes sneaking a feel. This topic comes to mind because of a recent discussion I had in Washington DC with my friend Elizabeth Arledge (click TroysArt – Art in Washington DC). While touring the Smithsonian American Museum of Art I admired one of John Singer Sargent’s most famous works, the massive Study for El Jaleo (or Study for the Spanish Dancer). The painting was displayed in its own vestibule and as I moved close to the painting to examine the brushwork I set off an alarm.
Of course I had no intention of touching the painting but the shrill whirr of the alarm unnerved Elizabeth. And for the duration of our tour she was mindful to keep me from getting too close. Of course I would have never touched a painting in the Smithsonian or any other gallery, but I understood her concern…
A couple years ago I was touring the Menil Collection with Willem Overwijk (click TroysArt – A vegetarian in Cajun Country). In the African Gallery, in the midst of lively discussion, he became too close to one of the colossal sculptures. At that point he was warned but he continued to examine the works up close and personally. As we continued from gallery to gallery I noticed that we were being tailed. As we exited one gallery the security, through earphone and walky talky, would report to the next. “Subjects are exiting gallery, heading into…” And I have to admit that I was unnerved by it, all the while Dr. Overwijk amused by my concern and the fact that we had become a security scandal.
We heard as we left through the massive glass doors, “Subjects have exited south.”
I knew better and Willem certainly knew better and one assumes that the “DO NOT TOUCH” policy is understood universally. But without exposure, how would anyone know any better?
Years before my experience with Willem I was touring the same museum with Kendall Chaisson, aka Ken Doll (click TroysArt – Where is artist David Baum). Other than childhood holiday field trips to the local Zigler Art Museum in Jennings, Ken Doll had ever been to a major institution of art. Upon entering a cozy gallery filled with Pablo Picasso’s cubist works I saw the expression change on his face from curiosity to awe. As Ken Doll circled the gallery I sat on the bench and admired the work as well as his wonder. That is when he touched, both hands, feeling Picasso’s divine brushwork.
Within the minute a blue blazer clad guard approached, discreetly and politely admonishing, “Sir, you mustn’t touch the paintings.”
“Oh! Sorry,” he said with a look of horror on his face. Then he turned to me and asked, “Why you didn’t tell me I’m not supposed to touch?”
What was I supposed to do, yell at him? I had no idea that that he had no knowledge of the policy not to touch. And once he started I envied his innocence in his approach to appreciating the masterpieces, jealous that I could not get away with it. It happened so quickly, but I also knew that his quick careful touch would likely not harm the paintings. I shrugged and explained, “If I could have felt up a Picasso today, I would have.”
I hope he enjoyed it.
Not only do changes in humidity, temperature, and light degrade over time sculpture, artifacts, furniture, and art, but also our fingers contain oils that react with the surface. These oils can corrode the surfaces over time, lessening the life expectancy of the pieces. It is like a fingerprint at a crime—the oils can linger and attract dirt. But private owners and museum staff touch artworks all the time. The difference is obviously quantity—there is usually no harm if a person does it occasionally. Not to mention, most painting wear a layer of protective varnish that will yellow with oxidation and atmospheric conditions long before a few fingers cause any sort of change.
Major auction houses, galleries, and museums sometimes use acid free gloves when handling the art–especially for show. But when I worked with the Zigler Art Museum and the Tupper Museum we never wore gloves while hanging or maintaining the artworks. Moreover, when I was curious about how a brushstroke felt I just fingered it. American Impressionist Helen Turner’s style of unusual thick mosaic brushstrokes, for example, was just too tempting on the rare occasion.
Of course another danger of touching, which gloves cannot prevent, is the brittle nature of oil on canvas after years or centuries of age. I was helping a friend and former client Julia Anderson Frankel place a pair of paintings by George Inness in her library. Julia was exceedingly careful while handling the pieces when she put her finger right through one of them. Then off it went to the Museum of Fine Arts Houston for restoration—at great expense, no doubt. Thank God it was not me who did the damage.
Museums are increasingly creating touch friendly exhibits because of the intrinsic desire to indulge that sense. Not only are gloves being used but also replicas and virtual objects are used in lieu of objects deemed too valuable to be handled directly.
TroysArt does not encourage readers to shirk the rules and touch art. Always follow the protocol of the gallery in which you are visiting. However if you ever find yourself in front of a Troy Broussard painting and are intrigued by the brushwork, unless the exhibitor prohibits it, I embolden and permit you to let your fingers do the walking.