National Gallery

NATIONAL GALLERY           B-                                             
USA  Great Britain  France  (181 mi)  2014  d:  Frederick Wiseman  

Paintings change, and how you look at them changes as well.

For those who would pay to sit through three-hours of what amounts to a series of art history and art restoration lectures from one of the great museums of the world, The National Gallery of London, featuring 2400 paintings from the 13th to the end of the 19th centuries (leaving more contemporary fare to the Tate Gallery, London), then this is the film for you, and must be considered invaluable for scholars, art historians and teachers who would find this of considerable use in the classroom.  But for those lovers of Frederick Wiseman movies, where certainly part of the beauty is the lack of explanation, but total immersion into a field of particular interest, this may come as a bit of a surprise, as there may be more non-stop verbal explanation in this movie than all the other Wiseman films combined, which surprisingly doesn’t allow for moments of introspection due to the continuous stream of verbal explanations.  For some, that will be a good thing, as film critics are near unanimous in offering high praise for this film, as it delves into a specific area of museum expertise, which is what the institutions are renowned for, but it comes up short on the cinema end, as after all the explanation, there is precious little time spent with the actual paintings themselves, literally a few seconds and that’s it—and then they move on, which feels very unlike a Wiseman film that usually allows for a meditative view of art, where it becomes a living and breathing entity.  But here it remains more of a historical concept, where Wiseman appears to be more interested in the ideas behind the paintings than the paintings themselves.  There’s an interesting point made early in the film as a curator discusses with Gallery director Nicholas Penny the need to make art exhibitions more accessible to the general public, as a certain educated segment of society will always visit museums unprompted, while another section of society has no idea what lies inside the hallowed hallways, where she questioned whether the museum was actually focusing on reaching those individuals.  Judging by this film, the answer is no, as this is really a scholarly approach, where the greater the education and familiarity with art in general, the greater one’s appreciation for the film.  But let’s not forget, due to budget restraints, one of the first cuts in the public school systems is eliminating art from the curriculum, where nations as a whole are setting a precedent devaluing art’s significance.  So the language of this film is simply not reaching that segment that remains unfamiliar with the value and appreciation for art. 

Unfortunately, when treated in this way, art only has value to the elite class, represented by the museum’s well-educated all-white staff, which historically was how many of these paintings originated, as only royalty or the church could afford to commission the great artists and buy and/or appreciate art, hanging it on the walls of their vast churches, castles and chateaus, as now it hangs on the walls of museums waiting for the public to find it.  Large exhibitions generate huge advertising dollars notifying the public of gallery openings, where enormous crowds stand in line where they are ushered through crowded exhibitions, often so crowded you can barely see the paintings, while the rest of the art world lies unseen behind obscure corridors in the museum that are never entered or explored.  One of the more intriguing aspects of the film is the revelation explained by a tour guide to a group of racially mixed students that the foundation of the Gallery was funded in part because of the slave trade, where the gallery was built on profits from insuring slaves, where now the museum has its own isolated wing devoted to the “Slavery Collection.”  Nonetheless, few of the paintings discussed are even identified ahead of time, so unless the viewer is already familiar with the painting or the artist discussed, many viewers may not know what they’re talking about and will only get a brief glimpse afterwards.  Unlike other Wiseman films where the camera remains completely unobtrusive, nearly every speaker in the film is very well aware that the camera is pointed at them, where they often seem to be giving performances, shot in brief increments, as there are more and quicker edits in this film, contrary to the usual Wiseman methodology that prevents any practice of staging.  One of the tour guides identifies how a painting is a static moment in time all condensed into a single image, while some novels may take 6 months to read, sticking with the reader for the entire duration, or feature length movies may unwind over several hours.  But when one glances at a painting, sometimes all you get is a quick glimpse, while for others that capture our interest the viewer may sit and meditate over what they are looking at.  Much of what the guide provides is the story behind each painting, placing it in historical context, but also identifying thematic elements within the painting itself.  One of the more scintillating moments was a discussion with a group of legally blind people who were given elevated Braille materials that they could feel and touch to help them understand Camille Pisarro’s only nighttime painting The Boulevard Montmartre at Night (1897), see Original. 

The National Gallery is not among the largest museums, where Wiseman initially approached The Metropolitan Museum of Art, but the charge to bring a camera into the museum was prohibitive, as Wiseman never pays any fee, so the smaller intimacy is what attracted the director.  While the film doesn’t have the curiosity factor of At Berkeley (2013), which literally takes the viewer inside the classrooms of one of the most prestigious public universities in the world, where students and professors alike are engaged in scintillating discussions, or the contemplative reach of Jem Cohen’s Museum Hours (2013) that takes us to Vienna’s Kunsthistorisches Museum, seen through a developing friendship of a museum guard and a regular visitor, where the museum comes alive for Cohen’s distinctive focus, offering both a meditative glance at many of the paintings, but also a keen appreciation for people that spend time in museums, something altogether missing in Wiseman’s film.  Filmed in 2011-12 during major exhibitions for the 16th century Italian painters Titian and Leonardo da Vinci, and also 19th century British landscape painter J. M. W. Turner, with a major emphasis on the 17th century Dutch Masters Rembrandt and Johannes Vermeer, one memorable sequence involves the meticulous cleaning of Rembrandt’s Portrait of Frederick Rihel on Horseback, see Original, where an X-ray taken of the painting reveals another painting hidden underneath.  Another involved a discussion of Turner's The Decline of the Carthaginian Empire, 1817, see Original, depicting the fall of Carthage, a particularly bloody affair in 146 B.C involving the Battle of Carthage where the Romans set the city ablaze while capturing 50,000 men sold into slavery, where Turner’s emphasis on a blood-red sun looks as if it was painted with dried blood.  A discussion of modern restoration techniques indicates the painstaking, time-consuming work involved to create a protective lacquer coating that is state-of-the-art reversible and future-proof, as it can be eliminated in fifteen minutes should a better system ever be devised.  Along with the paintings, down in a basement work area are craftsmen carving out luxuriously designed frames to be used, including one austere looking older woman whose sole job was to place a golden inlay around the wooden frame, chiseling it directly into the wood.  There is a Greenpeace protest against Shell Oil drilling in the arctic that draws a crowd outside the museum, as they raise a giant banner on the front of the museum structure itself, proclaiming “It’s No Oil Painting,” but mostly Wiseman’s focus is on the inside collection, where spectators are seen huddling around the paintings, squinting at the fine detail, while a few are sitting on the bench asleep, some couples are seen kissing, ending with a modern ballet by two members of The Royal Ballet of London, Leanne Benjamin and Ed Watson, dancing in front of two Titian paintings, Diana and Actaeon and The Death of Actaeon, mythological scenes from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, translating the visual into yet another language, suggesting art is all about interpretation. 

POSTSCRIPT

There is a bit of controversy surrounding the film, which attributes Rubens as the painter of Samson and Delilah, 1610, where doubt was cast when the National Gallery purchased the painting at a 1980 Christie’s art auction for $5 million dollars, a record at the time.  According to independent artist and scholar Euphrosyne Doxiades, she believes it is a fake, that the composition does not match the original copies made during the artist’s lifetime, suggesting it is painted in a more heavy-handed style than the artist’s other work, and does not employ the layering technique of glazing common in oil painting at the time and mastered by Rubens.  She also finds it odd that one of Samson’s feet is not fully depicted within the canvas.  “Rubens is the painter’s painter par excellence; as a colorist and a draftsman, he is unique in the history of art.  When I first saw the National Gallery’s ‘Samson and Delilah’ in 1987, immediately I thought it could not have been painted by Rubens and I supposed that it was a copy — a 20th century copy.” For an institution like the National Gallery to present such a work as genuine, she says, is “offensive.”

She and her son launched a website AfterRubens.org, to coincide with the National Gallery’s major exhibition of Rubens’ work in 2005, Rubens: A Master in the Making, where more than 100 drawings and paintings were on display.  The case against Rubens can be found on the website here, The Strange Story of the Samson and Delilah: after Rubens, while in December 2005, Edward M. Gomez also summarizes the history of the case at Salon, Is “Samson and Delilah” a fake? - Salon.com.  According to a scientific analysis of the painting’s age, it does date back to the correct period, but it was earlier attributed to Dutch painter Gerard van Honthorst, a painter who, like Rubens, worked in Rome under the shadow of Caravaggio at the start of the 17th century.  Despite the claims, a majority of the art historical scholarly community has accepted Rubens as the painter.   

Museum Hours

MUSEUM HOURS           B+            

USA  Austria  (106 mi)  2013  d:  Jem Cohen                museumhoursfilm.com

Jem Cohen is an American independent filmmaker from New York most known for making short experimental films, Super 8 film essays, shooting a Polaroid diary of New York, newsreels of the occupy Wall Street movement, and music documentaries, often blending video with Super 8 and 16mm.  Here he shoots a film entirely in Austria, using a completely different style than the contemporary Austrian filmmakers whose precise detail and sterile cleanliness show Austria as a nation that prides itself in picking up their own garbage leaving the streets immaculately clean.  Cohen, on the other hand, shows graffiti on the walls, littered beer cans, cigarette stubs, and a host of other lost items just laying on the streets.  Shot during the Christmas season, the city of Vienna is shrouded in a relentless gray color, often battered by either rain or snow, giving it a less than accommodating feel throughout, especially to strangers who don’t know their way around.  The film, however, written, directed, produced, co-shot (with Peter Roehsler), and co-edited by Cohen, shooting exteriors on 16mm and interiors on two types of digital cameras, begins in an art museum, where one of the guards narrates his thoughts about what it’s like to be a museum guard at the prestigious Kunsthistorisches Art Museum, backtracking a bit about his own life, a lifelong lover of heavy metal, where he used to manage punk bands and be something of a rebel.  However, after experiencing all that “noise” early in his life, it’s only appropriate that now in his later years he balances it with “quiet.”  While he may be about age 60, we see him walk between the rooms of the museum, pointing out various habits of many that visit the art museum, as often people return, intrigued by certain works, which perks up his interest in his job, as he feels a connection to his surroundings.  He notices one woman return, where she also seems to be lost studying a map, where he helps offer her directions in English and even future assistance, if need be, should language present a problem.  She takes him up on his offer, and the two develop an ongoing friendship.       

She is Anne, Mary Margaret O’Hara (1980’s singer and sister to Canadian actress Catherine O’Hara), a vistor from Montreal, while the museum guard is Johann, Bobby Sommer, a nonprofessional who works for the Vienna International Film Festival, who actually has a past in the music business.  The two share naturalistic scenes that alternate with Johann’s thoughtful voiceovers.  She is there to visit her cousin, who she hasn’t seen in years, now lying in a coma in a nearby Vienna hospital.  Johann, who initially thinks she’s Austrian by the green color of her coat, apparently quite prevalent in his country, helps her obtain a museum pass and helpfully calls the doctor from time to time to get the latest health updates, and at least on one occasion he accompanies her to the hospital.  It’s a poignant moment, as anyone who’s visited a coma patient realizes how challenging it is, because you’re not sure if they actually comprehend anything you say, making no response, yet doctors encourage communication.  Anne asks Johann to describe some paintings in the museum, which he does brilliantly, where Cohen shows interspersed images of paintings and various works of art throughout the film.  The intimate knowledge he shares about various works of art actually has a healing power that can be felt even by the viewers, as such personal insight is rarely revealed, offering a glimpse into multiple worlds, where art history becomes personalized and associated with such a depth of humanity.  Described to a coma patient, this is simply a chilling moment, but it solidifies their friendship, as this is an unforgettable shared experience.  They spend more time together on the streets of Vienna, where he shows her the sights, actually reacquainting himself with much of what he’s always admired about the city.  Each are also shown separately, as Johann always returns to his job at the museum, while Anne rummages through open air flea markets on the downtown streets, while also making daily visits to the hospital. 

The film takes the viewer somewhat by surprise, as the stream of gorgeous images of artworks is stunning and hypnotically mesmerizing, requiring a certain amount of contemplation, where the director actually engages in an ongoing conversation with the audience, using a flow of still images, often evoking a sense of wonder, mixed with conversations describing various feelings about the artworks, but also hauntingly beautiful outdoor landscape images, capturing the emptiness of the trees, while the two characters themselves are engaged in their own conversations.  It’s an extremely slow but reflective style of filmmaking, where Cohen takes us into the Pieter Bruegel (the elder) room, the most popular destination in the museum and the site of more of this artist’s works than any other museum, where we interestingly share a visiting art professor’s tour of the paintings.  Like Johann earlier, to hear one’s personal reflections elucidated so clearly and eloquently is an extraordinary experience, and one that contrasts with the droning commentary that patrons are forced to listen to on the earphones provided, which simply don’t capture the immediacy of the moment.  The guest lecturer, Ela Piplits, brings the works to life, pointing out often overlooked details about the subversive nature of his works, a 16th century Dutch artist where even painting ordinary peasant behavior was frowned upon during his lifetime, as paintings belonged exclusively to the rich.  As there were no museums, which originated with the Louvre in Paris during the French Revolution (1789 – 1799), establishing the first collection of artworks open to the public, Bruegel had a tendency to rub the noses of the wealthy aristocracy in graphic unpleasantries, which often shared religious compositions, but he was also one of the first to originate landscape paintings.  According to the professor, Bruegel’s paintings “are not sentimental, nor do they judge.”  Also of interest, Cohen is one of the few directors to set his cameras inside nearby pubs, showing life in the beerhalls of Vienna, a slice of everyday life that is extremely lively and decorative.  Again, this offers quite a contrast to the moments of solitude in the hospital when Anne is alone with her cousin, quietly breaking out into song at one point, expressing infinite sorrow and tenderness.  The film is a modernist, free form meditation on how art and the human spirit coincide, concerned with language, images, and history, vividly expressed through an endless stream of art images that challenge our way of looking at the world around us.