ENGLEWOOD MUSEUM MAKES ITS RETURN
MOA reopens with an unusual exhibition of prints by the late Robert Rauschenberg
The Museum of Outdoor Art in Englewood reopens with an exhibit of prints, including “Darkness Mother” shown at left, by the late Robert Rauschenberg.
It’s impossible to write about any art event right now without acknowledging the strange times we are living through. Major Colorado museums, by and large, remain closed off to the public as the world waits out the worst of the coronavirus.
And while there’s plenty of art to be taken in virtually through the scores of exhibitions now posted online — and at some smaller commercial galleries that are opening their doors with tight restrictions on visitors — experiencing high-quality, thoughtfully curated visual art in a contemplative setting is a challenge. It will remain so until public health officials in larger cities deem it safe for establishments like the Denver
Art Museum or the Museum of Contemporary Art to get back to business.
The rules over public gatherings are more relaxed outside big-city limits, and so it is the suburban art enterprises that will lead the way back to normal times. They’re proceeding with caution, for sure, and experimenting with operating procedures that foreshadow what things will be like when art fans
full access to the stuff they love.
Englewood’s Museum of Outdoor Arts is now officially open, returning its retrospective of prints by 20th-century icon Robert Rauschenberg to public view after the exhibit was interrupted by the pandemic’s fallout in March. It’s a bold move, and it will be interesting to see if people come out right away.
Currently, folks are trickling in, and there’s some reward in being among the first to venture out. Primarily, the place isn’t busy, and that makes for a luxurious way to experience offerings by such an esteemed maker. MOA is using a timed ticket system to keep crowds low, and so the gallery-going pioneers taking the plunge basically have the place to themselves. For some folks, that will be irresistible.
Of course, everyone needs to wear a face covering and to keep their distances, and to deal with the nagging distraction of making sure they are being responsible to themselves and others. For some, that will be a dealbreaker. That’s OK; the exhibition, originally set to close this month, has been extended through March 20, 2021.
I can say that the exhibition is worthy of whatever level of attention you are willing to give it. The show, featuring more than 50 works spanning five decades, is rare in every way.
As MOA points out, it is the first comprehensive Rauschenberg solo in Colorado in 39 years. Plus, it’s unusual to have such a high-caliber display in any place other than the region’s urban core. MOA, basically a few connected rooms, is an intimate setting compared to a monolith like DAM, where an artist of Rauschenberg’s renown is more likely to show up.
The exhibition is also a departure for MOA, which despite its name, stages its most interesting offerings at an indoor space located inside Englewood’s municipal building complex. The museum is best-known for displaying local artists via a number of short exhibitions that last weeks rather than months. It’s also known for being free, until lately, when it has been charging admission. This attraction costs $10, which is, unfortunately, a high barrier.
The product is quirky, though. Rather being an exhaustive retrospective, it’s more of a sampler. Curators Dan Jacobs and Sarah Magnatta have assembled various unconnected examples of Rauschenberg’s career output that appear to be based on what was available to MOA more than what might make sense thematically. It doesn’t go as deep as it goes long — and that’s a public service.
If you don’t know Rauschenberg that well, this exhibit is a terrific way to get acquainted.
“Rauschenberg: Reflections and Ruminations” has just enough material to demonstrate both the spirit and the thoroughness of the artist’s life-long experimentation with printmaking. Rauschenberg was often ahead of his time and willing to play with printing techniques old and new as his thinking progressed.
There are crucial lithographs, including the early, 1962 work titled “Abby’s Bird” that had the artist printing off of stone, a technique that goes back centuries, though which Rauschenberg interpreted through the mid-20th century trend of abstraction.
Using selected editions of various Rauschenberg series, the exhibit shows his tinkering in multiple formats, including photolithograph, dye transfer, simple screen printing and more. Generally speaking, “Rauschenberg: Reflections and Ruminations” shows more than it tells, giving just enough information so that viewers can see how different print methods play out in the final product. It avoids technical descriptions of complicated processes, and so I will do the same with this review (you’re welcome).
The show’s more valuable appeal comes in the way it uses work to reveal Rauschenberg’s creative personality. There are the bold uses of color he was known for, as seen here in selections like 1993’s “Cock Sure,” a multi-techget work that is among several demonstrating the artist’s affinity toward windmills and farm animals.
There are examples of his inquiries into layering, using both multiple images printed on one single surface and his use of multiple surfaces combined into single works. There are also examples of pieces made with objects found and collected over his lifetime, and his well-known “combines,” which combine painting and sculpture at the same time. Such works are common now, but they were less so when Rauschenberg began his exploring.
One of the star attractions at the MOA show is 1990’s “Borealis Shares II,” a 6-foot-tall work that is part painting, part print and part functional bench that a person could actually sit on. (MOA asks visitors to refrain.)
“Reflections and Ruminations” zeroes in particularly well on Rauschenberg’s habit of printing on whatever material he fancied at the moment. Sometimes that was an unusual flat surface, like with “Anchored,” which had him printing on thick plates of bronze.
Other times, he attached his paint and ink to folded or reflective surfaces, like with “Seminole Host,” for which images were printed on mirrored, polished stainless steel. It is impossible not to see yourself reflected in the work between those printed images as you view it.
The MOA show uses those mirrored surfaces as a metaphor, for the reflective way Rauschenberg constructed his objects. They are playful and thoughtful, and they are often autobiographical, using as raw material photos he took of friends over time or artifacts he collected on various journeys around this country and others.
The back story on “Rauschenberg: Reflections and Ruminations” is that MOA’S director, Cynthia Madden Leitner, knew Rauschenberg, who spent summers on Florida’s Captiva Island, where Leitner’s parents also had a place. As she explains in her introduction to the show’s catalogue, he had a charming presence and she long wanted to back an exhibition of his work.
It helps that her father, John Madden, who develnique oped Fiddler’s Green Amphitheater and other notable Colorado projects, picked up a few quality Rauschenberg pieces along the way, giving the current exhibition a head start.
That makes the effort something of a vanity project, but also very personal — and that’s to its advantage. Viewers do get a sense of Rauschenberg the human being, and that doesn’t always come through in exhibitions of his work, which rely on complicated, almost-mechanical production methods.
That’s also why seeing it now, when this pandemic is likely to keep attendance low, might be a good idea. Otherwise, stall until you are comfortable enough to enjoy its intimacy; there’s plenty of time.