This relationship between the DiSuvero and the Libeskind is something many have noticed, and I've spotted more than one person taking a snapshot of the Libeskind skeleton through the skeletal DiSuvero. Even "Dr. Denver," Tom Noel, weighed in on the matter in his Rocky Mountain News column a few weeks ago, noting the comparison but criticizing both the Libeskind and the DiSuvero for having too many straight lines instead of his favorite: curves, like "the female form." Sheesh!
Gender-identity critiques directed at inanimate objects are the least of Libeskind's troubles right now. Back in New York, the Port Authority gutted his design for the World Trade Center site, and he's being accused of unholy ties with New York governor George Pataki via Ron Lauder, an heir to the Estée Lauder fortune and a big cheerleader for Israel, where Libeskind grew up. It's hard to see how, even if it's true, that it's scandalous. Let's see: An architect courts a wealthy individual who then uses his political connections to further that architect's career in the realm of public commissions. Gee whiz, I believe that's called "the way of the world."
But even more serious complaints about Libeskind's design for the DAM are being heard. Many view the building as being unfriendly to art. A real issue, I grant you -- but reality has trumped the criticism. The new Hamilton Building will cost around $100 million, and I'd say it's already generated at least half that much in publicity and goodwill -- and just wait until it opens.
Furthermore, we all know that however jarringly theatrical the interior spaces of the Hamilton may be, they'll at least be planar, unlike the Guggenheim museum in New York, where the walls and floors are curvilinear. Frank Lloyd Wright's Guggenheim is the worst space ever conceived for exhibiting art, yet for all its tremendous faults, it's clearly a masterpiece. Mark my words: When it's finished, Libeskind's Hamilton will leave everyone breathless, and the style of its exhibition space will be completely forgotten in all the excitement of the opening.
The new building is set to debut in December 2006, which is mighty close to early 2007 -- you know how these things go. At any rate, it's right around the corner. A number of departments will be moving to the Hamilton, including modern and contemporary art, which will occupy most of the third and fourth floors -- the top two floors, as it happens -- in what will be called the Bonfils-Stanton Foundation Galleries. That organization has been a longtime DAM contributor and even donated money toward the cost of the Ponti tower, which was completed back in 1971.
Sadly enough, these future changes mean that scene Colorado/sin Colorado, the current show in the expanded Close Range Gallery on the DAM's main floor, is going to be the modern and contemporary department's last presentation in the Ponti tower. After the show closes in August, there will be no modern or contemporary art shows in the DAM until the Hamilton is finished.
Two years or so may seem like a short time to the DAM's administration, but it seems like a lifetime in terms of public perception. Oh, well, there's nothing that can be done about it; if there were, Dianne Vanderlip, the powerful curator of modern and contemporary art, would have already done it. Oh, by the way, count on Denver's Museum of Contemporary Art to make hay out of the situation.
Vanderlip deserves praise for putting on an all-Colorado show as her sendoff exhibit before the long hiatus. Colorado artists deserve to be displayed at the most prestigious venue in the region, because if the DAM doesn't support them, why would an out-of-state institution? It's a credentializing experience for an area artist to be seen at the DAM, though that opportunity is rarely afforded to local artists. Right now, however, Coloradans are being celebrated not only in Vanderlip's show, but throughout the museum, and their work is identified with tiny Colorado flags.
The exhibit begins in the lobby with some teasers that are hung opposite the main entrance, bracketing Schlessman Hall. On the left is a richly toned black-and-white silver-gelatin print by Christopher James titled "Victor," which depicts the Colorado mining town at night. On the other wall is a large signature Tracy Felix, "Longs Peak and the Flatirons," in oil on Masonite. The James and the Felix both have a Western feeling, as does the third piece in the lobby: Stephen Batura's "Mid-Winter -- 1903," a monochrome mural in casein and gesso on plywood that records a train wreck at the turn of the last century. Technically, the James, the Felix and the Batura are part of scene Colorado, but they're too remote from the exhibit proper. Heading toward the Close Range, which is now a set of rooms carved out of the Stanton Galleries off the elevator lobby, viewers come across one more preview piece: Sushe Felix's "Blue Moon," a classic neo-transcendental abstract.