This Friday, June 15th, a very special exhibition opens at the Roswell Museum and Art Center, Magical and Real: Henriette Wyeth and Peter Hurd. I've been working on this show for almost four years in collaboration with curator and scholar Kirsten M. Jensen, and for the last month or so, I've more or less been living in our galleries as we get everything up. Visitors have occasionally asked me what goes into staging an exhibition like this, so today, in anticipation of Friday's opening, we're going behind the scenes to take a look.
This is another long post, so get comfortable.
Magical and Real is a two-venue show, which means it was hosted by more than one museum. The first location, the Michener Art Museum, exhibited it from the end of January to the beginning of May. Kirsten had designated separate gallery spaces for each artist, so that they would each have their own voice. Within those two sections, she set up the works chronologically, giving herself the leeway within that theme to create beautiful arrangements.
The show was set up in three different galleries, and temporary walls were used to help separate the two artists. In a lot of ways it was like being in two exhibitions, though they were still closely connected through Hurd and Wyeth's relationship. It also effectively mirrored the working practices of the two artists. In subject matter and style, they were very different, but they also critiqued one another's work, and took inspiration from similar places and people.
As I started working on this exhibition, I knew I wanted to maintain the spirit of Kirsten's layout, but needed to respect our own gallery spaces and history. The Roswell Museum is older than the Michener, fifty years older, and has a somewhat labyrinthine character that reflects its ongoing growth and expansion. Galleries have been added over several decades as the funds and need arose, so as a result, no two spaces have the same character. Some are open and airy, while others are close and intimate. Some were built originally as galleries, while others were converted spaces. One of our largest spaces, for example, the Patricia Gaylord Anderson Gallery, was originally a courtyard before being converted.
Our galleries are also a little smaller than the Michener's and tend to have multiple entrances. Consequently, it's really difficult to stage a purely chronological show in our spaces, as visitors are able to enter the each gallery from multiple entry points. They might start at the beginning of a story, but they're equally likely to jump into the middle or even the end, depending on which rooms they decide to enter. With all this in mind, I knew I wouldn't be able to replicate the Michener's layout, but would instead adapt it to suit our galleries and take advantage of our unique architectural spaces.
I began by taking a look at the floorplan itself. Our shows typically occupy a single gallery, so a multi-space show like Magical and Real required more logistical planning in terms of finding available space. The purple square here demarcates all the Museum's gallery spaces; the other rooms are offices, classrooms, studio spaces, and storage. For security purposes I wanted to choose galleries that were close to each other, so after consulting with the other staff, we settled on Spring River, Entry, and the Patricia Gaylord Anderson (PGA) Gallery, all circled here in red. Founders Gallery, the original Museum building, is home to our permanent collection of Hurd and Wyeth works, so I decided to designate it as an auxiliary space for the exhibition. Horgan and Graphics, currently home of Peter Hurd on Paper, would also relate to the show, though it's also an exhibition that can be enjoyed independently of the Magical and Real.
A lot of practical decisions also informed the gallery selection. Donald B. Anderson Gallery could have worked, but right now it's displaying some of our larger paintings from the permanent collection, and it would have been too difficult to store them. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but most of our permanent collection is in storage right now due to the space needed for our previous exhibition, RAiR at 50, so vault space is at a premium right now. Marshall and Winston Gallery is dedicated to the Roswell Artist-in-Residence Program, so that was out of the question. Hunter is another nice, large gallery, but was deemed too far away from the other spaces. It's also the only gallery in the Museum with doors that close from both ends, so we decided it'd be more useful as a staging area for crate unpacking anyway.
Once the gallery spaces had been selected, it was time to get them ready. After we deinstalled RAiR at 50, we had the City painters come in to repaint the spaces. To make things easier for them, the Museum's Preparator and I painted some of the more delicate trim work ahead of time, allowing them to jump right in with the large rollers. We used the same colors from the Michener installation, a dark blue known as Gentleman's Grey, and a light blue-green color called Harbor Haze. We didn't have the galleries completely repainted in these colors, there are still several white walls in the show, but we still added a lot of color to the spaces. I personally love color myself, so after years of working with white walls, it was really exciting to see something new.
The only space we didn't repaint was Founders, which was already painted a rich, dark red. Founders has been home to Pennsylvania Impressionists for the last several months, but normally it's dedicated to our Hurd and Wyeth collection, so I wanted to incorporate it into the exhibition. Within the show itself, Founders is my spillover space. If a wall looked too packed with works, I could take out the permanent collection pieces and move them here. Aside from giving us more breathing room in the layout, I also wanted to fill this space with our works so that the prep crew wouldn't have to take them down in September, when the show closes. Instead of deinstalling four galleries, they'll only have to worry about three.
Overall though, the installation went smoothly, as after everything was condition-checked, it really didn't take that long to get everything up. Sure, we moved a few works around, but that's perfectly normal during an installation. Considering that there are about 90 pieces in this show, spread out over several galleries, I'd say the hanging went beautifully. Our Preparator was in charge of the actual hanging process, but the Registrar and I were around to help lift paintings on to the wall, write down calculations, and other tasks.
Paintings aren't the only thing that go up in an exhibition, however. You've also got all your didactic texts, usually in the form of object labels for individual works and larger panels for broader narrative themes. I wrote all my texts months ago for the Doylestown installation, but there was still a lot of coordinating to do for our Museum. Typically we produce our labels in-house and have our panels printed in town on foamcore, but for this show we wanted to try something new by going with a grander scale.
You see that beautiful blue panel below, the one that the gentleman is thoughtfully reading? It's basically a giant fabric sticker that you apply directly to the wall. Our printers in town haven't done anything like this for us before, so we decided to work with the printers who had done the Michener's texts, Mind Your Design and Flash Graphics. They already had everything on file, so it was easy enough to reprint them. The challenge was to make sure the colors matched.
Our color layout didn't look the same as the Michener's, so that meant we had to change the colors on a lot of the panels and labels. Panels that had been on Harbor Haze walls, for example, were now on Gentleman's Grey, and vice-versa. In the case of the blue panel above, it was now on a white wall, so it had to be changed to black-and-white. The same process needed to be done for all the labels, which was an ongoing process since pieces were being moved around. Since the printers have their own deadlines, moreover, we had to finalize everything before the works were all actually in place.
To solve this problem, we installed the color accent walls first. Since the designer had never seen Founders in person before, and didn't feel comfortable guessing about the red, we mutually decided to print all the materials for that gallery in black-and white. As a result, we knew that everything that hadn't already been installed on an accent wall, whether it was going in the temporary galleries or Founders, would be black-and-white. We also had them print and ship out the panels first, since those walls were set early on, giving them more time to work on the labels. Those are scheduled to arrive on Monday, so they should be up within the next few days.
Once the panels arrived, we let them lay flat overnight, since they had been rolled. The next day, we put them up on the walls, and I have to say, I was pretty impressed with how easily they went up. I thought they looked beautiful in Doylestown, but I also appreciate how quickly you can get them on the wall. Since we used the same material for the labels, they'll probably also go up easily too.
Unfortunately, as big as the panels can get, they were not large enough for the introductory text. That had to be printed in vinyl. Exhibit vinyl is like a plastic sticker, and it's the standard in museums nowadays when it comes to titles and intro texts because it's a clean look and you can print on a very large scale.
The downside of vinyl is that it can be challenging to install. Whereas the fabric panels like the one above is essentially one giant sticker with text printed on it, vinyl letters have to be printed individually. Sure, the text is printed out as one block, like what you see below, but every one of those words is formed by individual letter stickers. This means that instead of applying one rectangular sticker to the wall, you're applying blocks of individual stickers. Those individual stickers might tear during installation, get moved around accidentally, or not go on the wall at all. In other words, vinyl may look beautiful, but it's a time-consuming process, not to mention wasteful because it's all plastic that will eventually get thrown away.
Seriously, somebody should invent an alternative, maybe something using lasers or projectors.
Our intro vinyl came in multiple parts. Before we began applying, we measured everything out to make sure there was enough room. After we had spaced everything, we started putting the individual sections on the wall, one block at a time, beginning with the main title.
Vinyl lettering comes sandwiched between two layers of paper. To apply the vinyl, you first have to remove the layer of paper that covers the sticky side of each letter. Vinyl is notorious for sticking to the paper, so you have to work very slowly and pry off individual letters that are proving troublesome.
Once you've exposed the sticky side, you then place it gently on the wall, and make sure it's level, adjusting as needed. After it's level, you rub the letters vigorously to encourage them to stick to the wall, then peel off the paper covering them. Again, you have to go slowly, because the letters won't always stick and you have to pull them off or adjust them individually.
This wall of text alone took several hours to apply, even with three people, the Preparator, Registrar, and myself, working on it. It's my opinion that every curator should apply their own vinyl at least once so that they know how tedious it is.
Okay, so you have all of your paintings on the wall, along with your vinyl and text. That means you're finished, right?
Wrong. There's still lighting, one of the most important facets of any installation. Lighting is what brings the work of art to life, what guides viewers through a gallery space. We have to adjust the lights for every installation, and for a multi-gallery show like this, it will probably take the better part of a day to do. We'll be doing the lighting next week, as you really can't do it until the works are up and the main texts are in place.
After lighting, there's the final round of touch-ups, when you go through the galleries and erase any stray pencil marks or patch up any erroneous nail holes. Then you take down the barriers and invite your viewers to come enjoy the works.
As I hope you've gathered, exhibitions are a lot of work, and a massive team effort. I could not have done this show without the help and expertise of our Preparator and Registrar. Yet it's all worthwhile because the end result is both beautiful and educational. I've been looking forward to sharing these works with Roswell for years now, so installing this show, as stressful and tiring as it can be sometimes, has been extremely gratifying. It's been wonderful to see the spaces come to life with these works, and I hope visitors enjoy looking at them as much as I have.
Magical and Real opens on June 15th, with a public reception from 5-7 pm. If you're in town, be sure to stop by, as we'd love to see you.
This is another long post, so get comfortable.
Magical and Real is a two-venue show, which means it was hosted by more than one museum. The first location, the Michener Art Museum, exhibited it from the end of January to the beginning of May. Kirsten had designated separate gallery spaces for each artist, so that they would each have their own voice. Within those two sections, she set up the works chronologically, giving herself the leeway within that theme to create beautiful arrangements.
How then, does one transpose such a thoughtful, complex installation to the Roswell Museum? The short answer is, you don't.
As I started working on this exhibition, I knew I wanted to maintain the spirit of Kirsten's layout, but needed to respect our own gallery spaces and history. The Roswell Museum is older than the Michener, fifty years older, and has a somewhat labyrinthine character that reflects its ongoing growth and expansion. Galleries have been added over several decades as the funds and need arose, so as a result, no two spaces have the same character. Some are open and airy, while others are close and intimate. Some were built originally as galleries, while others were converted spaces. One of our largest spaces, for example, the Patricia Gaylord Anderson Gallery, was originally a courtyard before being converted.
Our galleries are also a little smaller than the Michener's and tend to have multiple entrances. Consequently, it's really difficult to stage a purely chronological show in our spaces, as visitors are able to enter the each gallery from multiple entry points. They might start at the beginning of a story, but they're equally likely to jump into the middle or even the end, depending on which rooms they decide to enter. With all this in mind, I knew I wouldn't be able to replicate the Michener's layout, but would instead adapt it to suit our galleries and take advantage of our unique architectural spaces.
I began by taking a look at the floorplan itself. Our shows typically occupy a single gallery, so a multi-space show like Magical and Real required more logistical planning in terms of finding available space. The purple square here demarcates all the Museum's gallery spaces; the other rooms are offices, classrooms, studio spaces, and storage. For security purposes I wanted to choose galleries that were close to each other, so after consulting with the other staff, we settled on Spring River, Entry, and the Patricia Gaylord Anderson (PGA) Gallery, all circled here in red. Founders Gallery, the original Museum building, is home to our permanent collection of Hurd and Wyeth works, so I decided to designate it as an auxiliary space for the exhibition. Horgan and Graphics, currently home of Peter Hurd on Paper, would also relate to the show, though it's also an exhibition that can be enjoyed independently of the Magical and Real.
A lot of practical decisions also informed the gallery selection. Donald B. Anderson Gallery could have worked, but right now it's displaying some of our larger paintings from the permanent collection, and it would have been too difficult to store them. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but most of our permanent collection is in storage right now due to the space needed for our previous exhibition, RAiR at 50, so vault space is at a premium right now. Marshall and Winston Gallery is dedicated to the Roswell Artist-in-Residence Program, so that was out of the question. Hunter is another nice, large gallery, but was deemed too far away from the other spaces. It's also the only gallery in the Museum with doors that close from both ends, so we decided it'd be more useful as a staging area for crate unpacking anyway.
Once the gallery spaces had been selected, it was time to get them ready. After we deinstalled RAiR at 50, we had the City painters come in to repaint the spaces. To make things easier for them, the Museum's Preparator and I painted some of the more delicate trim work ahead of time, allowing them to jump right in with the large rollers. We used the same colors from the Michener installation, a dark blue known as Gentleman's Grey, and a light blue-green color called Harbor Haze. We didn't have the galleries completely repainted in these colors, there are still several white walls in the show, but we still added a lot of color to the spaces. I personally love color myself, so after years of working with white walls, it was really exciting to see something new.
The only space we didn't repaint was Founders, which was already painted a rich, dark red. Founders has been home to Pennsylvania Impressionists for the last several months, but normally it's dedicated to our Hurd and Wyeth collection, so I wanted to incorporate it into the exhibition. Within the show itself, Founders is my spillover space. If a wall looked too packed with works, I could take out the permanent collection pieces and move them here. Aside from giving us more breathing room in the layout, I also wanted to fill this space with our works so that the prep crew wouldn't have to take them down in September, when the show closes. Instead of deinstalling four galleries, they'll only have to worry about three.
Once the galleries were painted, it was time to receive the artworks themselves, which arrived on May 21. We kept them in Hunter Gallery, since it was the one space large enough to accommodate all of the works. Shipping artwork is a whole different kettle of fish than what I'm focusing on today, but long story short, we used a company called US Art to transport the works from Pennsylvania to New Mexico. Some of the works were soft-packed in cardboard and bubblewrap, but the majority arrived in crates, 29 crates to be exact. Some crates were made by US Art, others were made by different art transportation companies. Some were retrofitted for specific works, others were brand new. Some crates only held one work, while others contained several works. Regardless, each crate was designed to minimize the vibrations of road transport of each work. Every work was cushioned with archival-quality foam custom cut to its framed dimensions, and wrapped in plastic to keep the dust out.
...so many crates...
Once the works arrived, we couldn't open them right away. Paintings like consistency when it comes to temperature and humidity, so if you transport them from one climate to another, you need to let them acclimate in their crates for at least 24 hours to prevent cracking or molding. After the acclimation period, we began the long process of opening the works and condition checking.
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| Behind every exhibition is a mountain of paperwork, like these condition reports. |
Condition checking is kind of like doing an autopsy on a painting. Like people, works of art age over time, and this aging manifests through cracking, discolorations, and other imperfections. Whenever you put a work on display then, you need to look carefully at the piece and note all your observations to see whether anything has changed, and if it has, whether it requires the attention of a conservator in the future. This is especially important with a traveling show, as you don't want any damage to occur while a piece is under your care. When you first open it then, you need to note every imperfection on the work and write it down on a form called a condition report.
My Registrar and I did the condition reports in pairs. I went over each painting with a flashlight and declared my observations (statements like "Accretion in upper left quadrant, about two inches from sitter's ear" or stretcher bar marks present along right edge of work") while she wrote them down. We then compared my observations with the Michener's original condition reports to make sure I hadn't missed anything. The same process will need to be done in September when the works are sent back, to make sure no changes occurred while they were here. It's a long process, but it also provides tremendous insight into an artist's working habits, because you're basically going over the painting stroke by stroke.
Then there was the actual layout, or the order the paintings would appear in each of the galleries. I put this together back in April, several weeks before the paintings arrived. With single-gallery shows, especially those based on the permanent collection, I tend to be pretty minimal with my layout paperwork, but with this show, I wanted to be thorough. For each of the galleries, I printed out a floorplan, made sure there were measurements for all of the walls, and drew in the moveable walls and other exhibit furniture. I then added rectangles representing each of the works, along with the dimensions supplied to me. Having seen the works already in Pennsylvania, I tried to keep as many of those pairings intact as possible while making accommodations for our own spaces. The gallery shown here is Entry, which holds a lot of the early works. I used the moveable walls to split the gallery in half, with Hurd on one side, and Wyeth on the other. Spring River became the family gallery space, while PGA, the largest gallery, was dedicated to Wyeth's fantasies, Hurd's illustrations, and both of their southwest output.
The main objective with any layout is that you don't want to run out of space, but this show had additional challenges because there were several couriers involved. Couriers are representatives from a museum, usually a curator or registrar, who travel with artworks in special exhibitions to make sure that they are safely installed. Since the couriers were scheduled to be here at specific times, we had to install their works while they were here. That made I needed to know exactly where they were going, and couldn't change their placement. With our scheduling, this meant that we needed to open and install these works first, before opening everything else, and hope that everything would fit later on. I designated the courier works through color-coding, and shown above in red and orange for different museums (the blue rectangles are text panels). As often as possible while staying true to the exhibition narrative, I tried to either group the courier works together, put them on solo walls, place them in the center of a wall, or unpack the final, non-courier work on a specific wall so that the Preparator had as complete a layout as possible in any scenario.
No matter how much you plan beforehand, however, layouts tend to change once you're in the galleries, and you start seeing how the pieces actually look on your walls. One of the ongoing challenges I had throughout the course of this show was that I was working in smaller galleries, so groupings that looked well in Doylestown became cramped here. As a result, a lot of layouts were altered as pieces were moved or spread out to other areas in other to give them enough breathing room (and why I was glad I designated Founders as a spillover space).
A perfect example is the wall shown below, with the three illustrative paintings (two Peter Hurds with an N.C. Wyeth in the middle, in case you were wondering). There were originally supposed to be four illustrations hanging here, in keeping with the Michener's installation, but they had a large wall that could easily accommodate all four works. Here, it looked too tight with four, and the last one really didn't fit the other works in terms of color palette or subject matter. We moved it to a different wall then, and kept the remaining three works together, an impromptu alteration that made for a much stronger group overall. This happens all the time during installations, and it occurred several times over the course of this show. The lesson here is that while you do want to plan your layout, it's important to be flexible and try new configurations as the need arises.
Overall though, the installation went smoothly, as after everything was condition-checked, it really didn't take that long to get everything up. Sure, we moved a few works around, but that's perfectly normal during an installation. Considering that there are about 90 pieces in this show, spread out over several galleries, I'd say the hanging went beautifully. Our Preparator was in charge of the actual hanging process, but the Registrar and I were around to help lift paintings on to the wall, write down calculations, and other tasks.
Paintings aren't the only thing that go up in an exhibition, however. You've also got all your didactic texts, usually in the form of object labels for individual works and larger panels for broader narrative themes. I wrote all my texts months ago for the Doylestown installation, but there was still a lot of coordinating to do for our Museum. Typically we produce our labels in-house and have our panels printed in town on foamcore, but for this show we wanted to try something new by going with a grander scale.
You see that beautiful blue panel below, the one that the gentleman is thoughtfully reading? It's basically a giant fabric sticker that you apply directly to the wall. Our printers in town haven't done anything like this for us before, so we decided to work with the printers who had done the Michener's texts, Mind Your Design and Flash Graphics. They already had everything on file, so it was easy enough to reprint them. The challenge was to make sure the colors matched.
Our color layout didn't look the same as the Michener's, so that meant we had to change the colors on a lot of the panels and labels. Panels that had been on Harbor Haze walls, for example, were now on Gentleman's Grey, and vice-versa. In the case of the blue panel above, it was now on a white wall, so it had to be changed to black-and-white. The same process needed to be done for all the labels, which was an ongoing process since pieces were being moved around. Since the printers have their own deadlines, moreover, we had to finalize everything before the works were all actually in place.
To solve this problem, we installed the color accent walls first. Since the designer had never seen Founders in person before, and didn't feel comfortable guessing about the red, we mutually decided to print all the materials for that gallery in black-and white. As a result, we knew that everything that hadn't already been installed on an accent wall, whether it was going in the temporary galleries or Founders, would be black-and-white. We also had them print and ship out the panels first, since those walls were set early on, giving them more time to work on the labels. Those are scheduled to arrive on Monday, so they should be up within the next few days.
Once the panels arrived, we let them lay flat overnight, since they had been rolled. The next day, we put them up on the walls, and I have to say, I was pretty impressed with how easily they went up. I thought they looked beautiful in Doylestown, but I also appreciate how quickly you can get them on the wall. Since we used the same material for the labels, they'll probably also go up easily too.
Unfortunately, as big as the panels can get, they were not large enough for the introductory text. That had to be printed in vinyl. Exhibit vinyl is like a plastic sticker, and it's the standard in museums nowadays when it comes to titles and intro texts because it's a clean look and you can print on a very large scale.
The downside of vinyl is that it can be challenging to install. Whereas the fabric panels like the one above is essentially one giant sticker with text printed on it, vinyl letters have to be printed individually. Sure, the text is printed out as one block, like what you see below, but every one of those words is formed by individual letter stickers. This means that instead of applying one rectangular sticker to the wall, you're applying blocks of individual stickers. Those individual stickers might tear during installation, get moved around accidentally, or not go on the wall at all. In other words, vinyl may look beautiful, but it's a time-consuming process, not to mention wasteful because it's all plastic that will eventually get thrown away.
Seriously, somebody should invent an alternative, maybe something using lasers or projectors.
Our intro vinyl came in multiple parts. Before we began applying, we measured everything out to make sure there was enough room. After we had spaced everything, we started putting the individual sections on the wall, one block at a time, beginning with the main title.
Vinyl lettering comes sandwiched between two layers of paper. To apply the vinyl, you first have to remove the layer of paper that covers the sticky side of each letter. Vinyl is notorious for sticking to the paper, so you have to work very slowly and pry off individual letters that are proving troublesome.
 |
| Working with our Preparator to put up the vinyl. |
Once you've exposed the sticky side, you then place it gently on the wall, and make sure it's level, adjusting as needed. After it's level, you rub the letters vigorously to encourage them to stick to the wall, then peel off the paper covering them. Again, you have to go slowly, because the letters won't always stick and you have to pull them off or adjust them individually.
 |
| The white marks around the text helped us make sure the text was level, and will be erased. |
This wall of text alone took several hours to apply, even with three people, the Preparator, Registrar, and myself, working on it. It's my opinion that every curator should apply their own vinyl at least once so that they know how tedious it is.
Okay, so you have all of your paintings on the wall, along with your vinyl and text. That means you're finished, right?
Wrong. There's still lighting, one of the most important facets of any installation. Lighting is what brings the work of art to life, what guides viewers through a gallery space. We have to adjust the lights for every installation, and for a multi-gallery show like this, it will probably take the better part of a day to do. We'll be doing the lighting next week, as you really can't do it until the works are up and the main texts are in place.
After lighting, there's the final round of touch-ups, when you go through the galleries and erase any stray pencil marks or patch up any erroneous nail holes. Then you take down the barriers and invite your viewers to come enjoy the works.
As I hope you've gathered, exhibitions are a lot of work, and a massive team effort. I could not have done this show without the help and expertise of our Preparator and Registrar. Yet it's all worthwhile because the end result is both beautiful and educational. I've been looking forward to sharing these works with Roswell for years now, so installing this show, as stressful and tiring as it can be sometimes, has been extremely gratifying. It's been wonderful to see the spaces come to life with these works, and I hope visitors enjoy looking at them as much as I have.
Magical and Real opens on June 15th, with a public reception from 5-7 pm. If you're in town, be sure to stop by, as we'd love to see you.
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