backstory: When artistic intention is lost

The work has a long and complex history, detailed in this New Yorker article entitled Behind Bars and in this New York Times review by Holland Cotter.

We really weren’t sure we’d get the work at all. We were already installing the show, still with no answer on our request to borrow the work. In hopeful anticipation, I reserved a space at the front of the museum just in case. Then word came. Yes, we could borrow it.

My crew went into the prison and found the work, as the article details, high up, behind a basketball hoop, encased in scratched Plexiglas. They went to work, quickly, to arrange for the object to arrive at the museum just in the nick of time.

——————

It was just announced that the Brooklyn Museum will be borrowing For the Women’s House, long term. And there have been some grumblings about it going to Brooklyn and the thought that, somehow, their borrowing the object contributes to the loss of its original purpose. But I can tell you that the minute the population of Rikers changed from female to male, the artist’s intention was lost.

Standing in front of the work at the Neuberger with Faith in 2010, we looked it over and over. Faith hadn’t seen it since the day it was installed at Rikers. She said to me that day over a decade ago: “I don’t think it should go back to Rikers.” I responded, and I stand by my response to Faith to this day: “Faith, I have to send it back when the show is done. I’m sorry. Museums are obligated to send works they borrow back to their owners. There are no exceptions.” Faith was disappointed, but understood my position.

The circumstances under which Brooklyn is borrowing the work now is different. It’s what museum workers call a long-term loan, an accepted agreement between the borrower and the lender, and in this case the artist as well. It’s a good thing and I hope if you didn’t get to see it at the Neuberger, you’ll get to see it at Brooklyn.

Tracy Fitzpatrick
Director, Neuberger Museum of Art

Find me on Twitter @tracyfitzart

p.s. When Faith and I were standing in front of the work that day in 2010, I said to her… “Is that you? In profile? There in the top triangle of the lower right-hand square?” She looked and said, “I don’t know.” I said… “It’s you. That’s how you used to wear your hair, in a bun. I know from all the photos I’ve been looking at in order to curate the show.” She looked again. “Hmmm,” she said. “Yeah. That’s me. I forgot I put myself in the painting.” I responded, “You’re amazing. A painting full of role models and you put yourself in as a role model too. You know, not many people would do that. It’s part of what makes you so great.” And she’s still a role model—an incredible role model—today. Working with Faith was one of the great experiences and privileges of my museum career.