A Trip to the Getty
Our pasts are permanently embedded in our memories. Even in cases where some of us might prefer to erase our pasts (or some portion of it) in one fashion or another, our pasts are preserved. It is interesting to explore the different ways in which we preserve the past and how these ways define it, and in turn, define ourselves. Acts of preservation can be found within the various discourses around which our lives revolve. Letters, bills, pictures, conversations - - anything that has any cultural or personal significance are frequently saved or recorded, both consciously and subconsciously, to preserve and maintain both our past and present selves. These mementos that we save help us to remember and reconnect with the past through either their symbolic or direct representation of the past. The modern museum represents the epitome of such acts of preservation in which the cultures and histories of entire civilizations are preserved for all to view and thus experience a connection with our universal past. However, the presentation of a museum, from the objects on display and the ways in which they are presented, to the building itself, all contribute to the way we interpret the history on display. Most museums utilize elaborate decorations, cases, displays, descriptive texts, ornate frames, and other disturbances which impact the art. The modern museums of art which adhere to this perspective attempt to isolate the art on display by displaying such pieces starkly so that they are not complicated by surroundings which could affect the way that they are interpreted. In either case it is infrequent that art is displayed as it was originally intended, that is, if it was intended to be displayed at all. Although it is nearly impossible for museums to display artifacts without having an impact on their interpretation, this is not to negate the importance of museums. Despite the interpretative impact that the museum’s display might present, the most important thing is the preservation of the artifact. However, it is important that those who preserve history do so in a way that provides the most accurate and educational interpretation.
The J. Paul Getty Museum, because of its imposing disposition, cannot be mistaken for just another museum where objects of significance are merely displayed. A visit to "The Getty," as it is commonly referred to the inhabitants of the greater Los Angeles Basin, is not just a visit - - it is a cultural experience. Perched on a cliff overlooking all of Los Angeles, this awe-inspiring structure despite its relatively short existence, has already established itself as a mainstay to daily life. Inaccessible to traffic, the museum can only be reached by a five-minute "tram" ride to the top where the museum is situated. This sense of isolation emphasizes the Xanaduesque quality of the Museum, despite its relatively close proximity to "central" Los Angeles. However, the Getty, regardless of its impressive magnificence, is anything but uninviting. From the moment visitors step off the tram they are greeted by a few of the numerous docents accessible throughout the museum. The grand entrance, despite its modern architectural style, is more than welcoming to the visitors walking up its steps. Just inside the main entrance all the information that any visitor could possibly need to navigate the museum’s exhibits, gardens and other attractions is provided. Maps, information packets, audio guides, wall-mounted information including the history of the museum as well as times for tours and other informational films are all included, neatly presented and free to the everyday visitor. Not yet has any work of art been presented, but already a cultural experience is unmistakably underway.
Many museums indirectly impose an order in which the exhibits are viewed by their visitors through the hallways that dictate the direction of traffic. Unlike most museums, the Getty has a very open and unrestrictive feel about it - - there is no "forced" order for the viewing of its exhibits. Exiting the main entrance takes the visitor to an open quad complete with views and a fountain, all surrounded by buildings that house the museum’s exhibits. Although there are no directions to begin with any one particular building, the natural place to start for someone not looking for a specific exhibit is the first floor of the of the North Pavilion, which houses art before 1600 and is located closest to the main entrance. This first exhibit on the plaza level is one of bronze sculptures from the Early Italian Renaissance. The sculptures are evenly distributed throughout the room, not confined in cases but placed on top of small columns along the walls and in the center of the room as well. Each statue is displayed on its own column, allowing the visitor to see the statue from all angles isolated from the other statues despite its close proximity to the other statues within the exhibit. Adjacent to each statue is a mall, white plaque that gives the basic information about that statue: approximate date, origin, medium, title and the artist (if known). For the most part, all the exhibits contained within the museum are arranged through commonalities such as date, origin, title and artist when at all possible. Although this has an obvious impact on how each artifact is interpreted, attention has been paid to not over explaining the artifacts which can detract and distract from the intrinsic meaning of the pieces of art.
Within his article "Resonance and Wonder," Stephen Greenblatt describes two common phenomena created by the exhibition of works of art. The first is resonance, described by the author as the ability of the artifact to reach outside of its formal boundaries and the other is wonder, the ability of a work of art to stop an on-looker in his or her tracks because of its "arresting sense of Uniqueness" (42). The Getty, through its unique exhibits and the educationally aware style of the presentation of its exhibits, displays aspects of both of these phenomena. Many of the artifacts on display come from the personal collection of J. Paul Getty, who during his lifetime acquired one of the most outstanding and well-rounded art collections of the modern era. Many of these pieces in the collection, because of their unique significance, create this sense of wonder that Greenblatt discusses. The Getty’s modern way of presenting its exhibits by limiting surrounding distractions to a minimum add to each individual exhibit’s wonder and resonance.
The impact that the display of art in a museum has on the interpretation of the art is referred to as the "museum effect." Svetlana Alpers in "The Museum as a Way of Seeing," describes "the museum effect…as a way of seeing." The museum effect distorts, at some level, the interpretation of the art on display. The case of the Getty, although there is no arguing that there is some impact of the art like in any museum, a great effort has been made to allow the art to be presented to the visitor without unnecessary distractions. The limited distractions to each exhibit allow for each piece to expand artistically in the eyes and minds of the visitors as their artistic meaning is not inhibited by objective rhetoric and unnecessary visual distractions. Although the artifacts are not presented in the "natural state" or the way in which they were originally intended to be seen, for the most part the planning and implementation of each display has created what is arguably the ideal setting for these objects to viewed: the interpretation of the artifacts is left the viewer and not the planners of the museum - - who in this case ironically planned it to be this way.
Many questions are left to be debated by society regarding the institution of the museum and what its purpose is and should be. What artifacts are significant for display and whether attention should even be paid to determining which artifacts are significant is one question for debate given the perspective that selection should be completely objective. Some objects may have never been intended to be displayed or viewed, for instance personal effects of people long deceased who cannot voice their objections to the public display of their possessions turned artifacts. For example, one of the more emotionally provocative exhibits in modern museums is the room of shoes in the Holocaust Museum located in Washington, D.C. Certainly it is important that we not forget important historical events, especially in cases of genocide, but a point for debate is whether consideration be given to the privacy of the deceased. The way in which artifacts are categorized is another area in which objections have been made with respect to the effect that surrounding artifacts have on the interpretation of adjacent pieces. Although added aesthetics can be pleasing to the eye, they can distract from the pieces on display, altering the way in which they are to be interpreted by the viewer. This in particular is an aspect that the Getty, like many modern museums of art, has combated by isolating the pieces of art and letting them speak for themselves.
The J. Paul Getty Museum is a model for how museums should be built and arranged in the future. It is a place that people come to visit not just for the art that is on display but for the environment that the Getty creates. It is a place to view great and unique pieces or art, have lunch with an incredible view and then walk through its unbelievable gardens taking the time to stop and smell the roses. The average visitor to the Getty will probably never notice the efforts that have been taken to limit the distortion of the art on display, and this is exactly the intention of the museum planners. At the Getty, the visitors can have a one on one relationship with art on display, allowing them to have their own take on how they see the art and not how someone else wants them to see it. The Museum is a way of seeing art on display and the museum effect can have both a positive and negative impact on how that art is seen; however, the best effect that a museum can have on the art that it displays is no effect at all.