Wednesday, February 22

I took a flight from JFK at the crack of dawn, to arrive in time for “The Challenge of Nazi Art.” This was the only panel, other than my own, that I attended from start to finish. The opening remarks by Christian Fuhrmeister made it clear that the organizers wanted to open a dialogue about something that art historians have found it almost impossible to discuss, something I have also struggled with as a scholar of Weimar-era photography and exhibition culture. I was particularly drawn in by Despina Stratigakos’s visual evidence of how domestic design was pitched to young Nazi couples, and that what we think of “modernism” still seeped into much of that design, eliminating an easy bifurcation. Former CAA president Paul Jaskot, a great, natural speaker, spoke about the concept of “banality” and the need for art historical analysis of the era’s cultural products. More provocative questioners may have been intimidated by the largeness of the (double) room, but all in all it was a highly thought-provoking panel.

Thursday, February 23

Packed day. I spoke first thing in the morning, about “Radical Photo Spaces” at a session called “The Other Histories of Photography: The First 100 Years.” I thought our turnout was impressive, considering the time and that we were unfortunately competing with another session on photography (“Photographic Practices in Latin America”) and a video/film themed session that I was pining for (“Mobile Spectatorship”). I enjoyed going last: I think it’s a law of physics that you get the most questions—when I spoke in Chicago two years ago I went second-to-last and got zero questions! But the crowd was clearly interested in one of the main points of the session as a whole, which was how to bring attention to alternative photo practices that have been left out of the canon, and whether that can directly impact how photography is shown in museums now. Consensus seemed to be: yes, but it still doesn’t happen often enough. It’s always invigorating when the historical feels relevant to the audience.

After lunch I finally got to “curate” a time slot for myself, 2:30-5. I started at the standing-room-only Distinguished Scholar Session honoring Rosalind Krauss. Bois did an affectionate opening, and I stayed for Harry Cooper, which I loved, to hear how a practicing curator was influenced by her scholarship, particularly on sculpture. Then I exited to support a former peer of mine from the CUNY Graduate Center, Cary Levine, who was speaking about Pettibon and hardcore punk in a session called “Towards a Rock and Roll History of Contemporary Art” which sounded almost too cool, but Cary did a great job of integrating Pettibon’s subversive Zine imagery with the music of California punkers Black Flag. It brought back memories of my childhood in San Diego in the 1980s when more sophisticated kids were wearing those T-shirts in seventh grade while I still thought “punk” was a playground slur. Although pretty beat, I finished at the HGCEA session (Historians of German and Central European Art) to show fealty, as a member to an organization co-founded by my dissertation advisor, Rose-Carol Washton Long. And speaking of HGCEA, there was a super-cool dinner for members that same evening on the top floor of a downtown theater space, a space so raw that it looked like someone had just torn down some scenery from the walls. Very hip for HGCEA!

Friday, February 24

The morning session was another case of me bopping around. I went to “Live Forever: Performance Art in the Changing Museum Culture” and watched Pablo Helguera, the first speaker, upend the normal mode of speaking from the podium, which was mesmerizing. He engaged with an historical topic (why a preponderance of creative minds all came from a particular small town in Mexico) but turned all the lights off, put a spotlight on himself, and spoke in the middle of the room— a performance-paper hybrid. Kudos to him for thinking outside the box (throughout the conference he also took part in graduate-seminar style gatherings that were open to the public, another very cool way to push for feedback through new models of learning). I made brief stops at “The Modern Gesamtkunstwerk” and the Radical Art Caucus session, before moving on to my shift at the Book Fair table of the Women’s Art Caucus, to try to sell copies of my now-in-paperback The New Woman International, co-edited with Elizabeth Otto. People were not in heavy-duty buying mode, but many flyers and review copies were distributed, which is always a good thing, and these tables become places to discourse with long-lost friends. Once our shift was over at 1pm, I noticed another publication table giving away free food and drink, and ran into grad school classmates who had scattered across the country. That evening my husband, daughter and I met up with my cousin JD Walsh who is now a television actor and director, so we really had the whole breadth of the LA experience, not least of which was staying at the Biltmore, the most glamorous convention hotel ever.

Saturday, February 25

I only attended morning sessions so that we could take my daughter to Disneyland. I was particularly enthused by Kim Sichel’s paper in Jordana Mendelson’s session, “The 1930s,” where she focused on Brassaï’s book Paris de nuit. All forms of alternative (meaning outside canonical museum presentation) photography circulation fascinate me at the moment, including those in books, and Sichel showed Brassaï’s images as they appeared in the original publication, with full bleeds, even spilling over onto the steel spirals—gorgeous. In keeping with my attempt to see as many diverse photo-based papers as possible, I made a last minute dip-in to “Pop and Politics, Part II” to hear Martin Berger talk about Warhol’s Race Riots. This session proved to me that yes, going to CAA can be important to reinvigorate old talking points in lectures to our students. I use Race Riots routinely in my history of photo lectures but I had never closely contemplated the contemporaneous meaning of the word “Riot” before: that although Warhol seems sympathetic to the protesters in his images, the use of the word “Riot” was actually considered quite incendiary and helpful to the anti-protester position. So the images are, at best, ambivalent. Thank you Martin Berger!

All in all, I would say it was a most stimulating CAA, although I have heard some differ. Maybe I got into it because, as a colleague said to me, it was “a great CAA for Germanists.” But mostly I think it fulfilled what we should expect from these gatherings: new ideas, old friends, and a reminder of why we do what we do.

The lack of Internet at the hotel was not so great, however. The only WiFi was in the Student and Emerging Professionals Lounge, which almost always had a fresh urn of hot coffee, colleagues from across the fields, and easily accessed Internet. I miss the printed-paper abstracts. I know CAA puts them online now, but that doesn’t help when you’re choosing sessions on the fly, with only paper titles. It was like trying to judge a book by its cover – and I wonder what nuggets of scholarly gold I missed.

In my experience, the best panels by far were the two official ones devoted to “Tourism (and) Culture” and the mini-symposium on this topic held at the University of Southern California. Convened by Laurie Beth Clark, from the University of Wisconsin, Madison, the panels and symposium discussed the role that culture plays in defining tourism and the role that tourism plays in defining culture. Clark did an amazing job organizing this group of over 20 scholars, which I had the privilege of joining. The presenters were a lively mix of art historians and visual artists, but all presented thoughtful research in an engaging way that also stirred great conversations, which extended into the concourse of the Staples Center. The three panels looked at artworks made for sale to tourists, artworks that represent tourists, and artworks that derive from the experiences tourists have. Papers analyzed various existing tourist venues, creative works derived from tourist experiences, and new paradigms for the production of tourist culture.

Every time slot held at least one session of interest. Adam Lerner’s and Steven Wolf’s Thursday morning session Punk Rock and Contemporary Art on the West Coast took a fresh look at California Punk visuals and performance as art. Historicizing the “the Local” in Contemporary Art likewise presented an old topic in contemporary terms. Everywhere I went the focus seemed to be on the modern and the contemporary, lending in large part to the liveliness pervasive throughout the conference.

The Centennial Reception at LACMA on Wednesday evening was not to be missed, although I could have done without the twenty-minute coach ride listening to the two older female art historians sitting next to me discuss how they pamper their cats with homemade food. This was a fitting prelude to In Wonderland: Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists, LACMA’s current exhibition. This show is the best I’ve seen in years. Frida Kahlo and Leonora Carrington held their own, without overpowering the lyrically disturbing work of Dorothea Tanning and Remedios Varo. The installation was quietly beautiful, allowing viewers the luxury of winding through a maze of extraordinary work, without forcing a chronological reading. The only flaw was the copious didactic text. The art spoke for itself.

The scheduled trip to Venice Beach and Santa Monica was lackluster in terms of execution and art. At the Santa Monica Museum we were treated to an excellent exhibition of the ceramic sculptures and vessels of Beatrice Wood, but had less than 45 minutes to view the exhibition and make our way around the entirety of Bergamont Station’s numerous other private galleries, most of which were hosting opening receptions that evening.

I am curious to know why the conference convened right after the majority of the “Pacific Standard Time” exhibitions closed. With nine or more sessions devoted to the art, architecture, and material culture of California, several focused specifically on “Pacific Standard Time,” it was disappointing to not be able to see the relevant shows. Such exhibitions (and CAA conferences) are planned years in advance. The “Pacific Standard Time” installations at The Getty Center, the Watts Towers Art Center, Redcat, the Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery, LA MOCA, the Hammer Museum, and the California Museum of Photography, to name a few, were all closed and being de-installed.

That said, this year’s CAA brought new life to the conference. Let’s hope that New York maintains that momentum.

The first paper, presented by Allan Doyle, explored the tensions inherent in Xavier Sigalon’s copy of Michaelangelo’s “Last Judgment” and examined some of the post-Enlightenment controversies over the role of creativity versus academic instruction. Demonstrating that originality and copying were not always mutually exclusive, Doyle shed light on a widespread, too often-ignored nineteenth-century phenomenon that formed an integral part of that century’s artistic practice and vision. This paper was followed by Jeremy Melius’s eloquent analysis of John Ruskin’s “Ariadne Florentina” lectures delivered in 1873-76 during his Slade Professorship at Oxford. Melius convincingly argued that even on the level of language, Ruskin’s analysis of a set of Florentine prints (erroneously attributed to Botticelli at the time) betrayed his deep investment in historicity and his conception of art as a living embodiment of the past that self-consciously allegorizes its own relationship to history. Lastly, Sarah Schaefer’s fascinating discussion of Gustave Doré’s Biblical illustrations touched on the often-neglected topic of the fate of religious imagery in Modernity. Arguing that Doré’s illustrations aspired to create a “transnational” and “pandenominational” Modern Judeo-Christian visual vocabulary through the incorporation of new media and new modes of representation, Schaefer claimed that Doré attempted to forge a new sense of piety and spirituality in the face of Modernity’s constant flux and fragmentation.

Taken together, these three papers persuasively staged Modernity’s “other” side by raising questions of past artistic heritage, restoration, revivalism, historicity, spirituality and the fate of religious imagery – subjects that are typically left out of nineteenth-century art historical narratives. As with last year’s session, the 2012 “Future Directions in Nineteenth-Century Art History” panel demonstrated the continuing and very welcome thematic and geographic expansion of the field beyond the standard Franco-centric accounts of the ascension of the avant-garde.

The scope of the panel was wide, but was thematically organized around various interpretations of the ‘spiritual.’  First up was Linda Dalrymple Henderson who pointed out how pervasively the scientific understanding of the early 20^th century, along with various occult themes, informed Kandinsky’s writing on art.  Even after Einstein’s special theory of relativity had made the whole conceptual apparatus of the ether vacuous, Kandinsky seems to have relied heavily on the notion as means and a medium for expressing spirituality.  This also helps explain how Kandinsky could liken the effects of color on the human consciousness to musical vibrations.

Sarah Warren discussed some of the political consequences of the ‘spiritual’ in her presentation, which is an avenue not often pursued in Kandinsky scholarship.  In the main, Warren did a fantastic job of connecting Kandinsky’s sense of the new spiritualism in modern art to his interest in medieval icons.  For many early modernists, Kandinsky among them, primitive folk art could serve as a transitional bridge to modernism.  This was politically problematic, however, insofar as Russia’s Nicholas II attempted to turn such icons to his political advantage by using them as a means of aligning himself more closely with the people.  But theosophy, which Kandinsky was influenced by, had been suppressed by the Russian state.  In so doing, Nicholas II had also revealed the falseness with which he identified himself with icon imagery.  Both theosophy and icon art shared the common tenet that there is a hidden, spiritual meaning to be discovered in reality, and a rejection of the former amounted to a rejection of the latter.

The next panelist was yours truly.  The scope of my presentation was part historical, part philosophical.  One of the essential tensions that runs through Kandinsky’s text is between materialism and spiritualism, which I describe as the problem of positivism and the problem of life respectively.  In broad terms it is a statement about the sort of epistemological claims that science and art are capable of making.  Part of Kandinsky’s rejection of materialism can be seen, at least in part, as a rejection of the positivistic epistemology that undergirds some forms of the scientific endeavor—especially when that epistemological standard is used as a means of addressing the question of the value of life (which was a thoroughly spiritual, and thus artistic affair for Kandinsky).  It is also pertinent to note the degree that this tension permeated the intellectual atmosphere of the late 19^th and early 20^th century, especially in the writings of Nietzsche and Wittgenstein.

Todd Cronan was the final panelist, but was unfortunately not able to attend.  His paper was read by Charles Palermo.  Cronan focused on what he terms the ‘affective formalism’ in Kandinsky’s work.  This doctrine asserts, roughly speaking, that a work of art is not a vessel in which the artist inserts his or her internal feelings.  Rather, Kandinsky believed that the artist and the artwork should serve as a conduit for expressing a ‘sense of the world’ which would become manifested in the painting.  Thus the viewer, as a receiver of this sense of the world, was an essential component in this equation.  And even though Kandinsky was committed to the interpretation of the beholder as being more-or-less equivalent to the art work’s meaning, he seems to contradict himself by also simultaneously holding the opposite position—namely, that the artist should give no consideration to the response of the viewer.

This session was well attended; approximately 75-100 people were in the audience.  Perhaps this is a signal that the question of the spiritual in art (which has been somewhat lacking in postmodernism) is due for a reawakening.

In “No Art Historian Is an Island” presented by Amy Von Lintel of West Texas A&M University, the hybrid nature of art history as a discipline was elegantly juxtaposed to what the author referred to as the “realities of the many headed hydra”, referring to the diversity of responsibilities one takes on as an art historian in a small department. One particularly prescient strategy presented by Von Lintel was to create a more interdisciplinary experience for her students through collaborative teaching. By inviting carefully selected guest lecturers from other departments at her university to her classes, Von Lintel not only vastly expands the knowledge base of her classroom, she employs a pedagogical strategy which reinforces the value of deep learning and fosterers greater student focus. Furthermore, her collaboration with the other faculty at her college undoubtedly serves as a model for successful collaboration and specialization for her students, stressing the nature of scholarship as a shared enterprise.

The third and final paper was presented by Gregory Gilbert of Knox College and titled “The Solitary Art Historian in a Liberal Arts College: Strategies for Aligning Faculty and Student Research”. After some years of struggling to find time for his scholarly duties beyond the classroom, Gilbert decided to more explicitly integrate his ongoing scholarly work into his courses. Rather than employing the common strategy of teaching his dissertation, Gilbert instead began to use his courses to both share and expand his research area through the vehicle of his coursework with students. He was able to do this by proposing seminar themes, term paper topics, and student research areas more closely related to his area of focus. In doing so Gilbert found that he was able to more effectively guide students at all areas of research and course projects.

Having some background in medical academic publishing, I was reminded of the ubiquitous strategy of collaborative research and publication in the medical fields, where research duties are divided according to rank and/or specialty and credit is shared among several authors. Faculty at teaching hospitals or universities publish collaborative work with their advanced students, providing clear benefits for both parties. Simultaneously hearing Gilbert’s strategies and recalling my experience left me wondering why art historical publication typically continues to be such a solitary enterprise.

The theme that clearly united all of these papers was collaboration. The panel emphasized how art history faculty can improve their efficacy through collaboration with one another and faculty from other departments. Most importantly this panel stressed how working with students can be viewed as collaboration, albeit heavily guided by the instructor. By viewing teaching as essentially collaborative, faculty can foster a greater sense of ownership and responsibility over art history and create more learner-centered environments where students can more effectively integrate art history into their own sense of self.

“Many thanks to #CAA2012 for the amazing panel with Yve-Alain Bois, Benjamin Buchloh, Hal Foster.”

“Lev Manovich encourages CAA to embrace the intersection of art history and art practice.”

“Academic publishing as a colonization of intellectual property.”

“Very first panel on art history meets digital humanities – congrats! Let’s hope they will continue dating.”

“Publishing most vertical thing in academia, approaching colonial scale, next year we will reach one trillion in student debt.”

“Provocative and inspiring comments from Terezita Romo about categories of “hybrid” & “universal” at PST and Chicano Art panel.”

“F1219 – yes, everyone in the rooms has memorized the library of congress call number for Pre-Columbian art history.”

“This panel was an invigorating breath of jet-lagged-yet-fresh air and a vision of moving beyond the dead-end rhetoric of the copyright cartel, consumer culture, and commodity art.”

“You probably don’t want to hear about the truly bizarre but interesting talk by Carolyn Tate comparing Mesoamerican sculpture to miscarried fetuses and ancient mosaics to fertility cycles. You probably also don’t want to hear about how I also lost my temper a bit in a question and answer session on Jeff Koons.”

Overheard in the hallway later:

Solo attendee to group: Are you guys still going to the [inaudible] session?

One of group: [pause] Informally…

Soloist: Can I join you informally?

The sessions I’ve visited thus far have been largely interesting, with some presenters generating more enthusiasm than others. “Deconstructing Costume Histories: Rereading Identities in Fashion Collections and Exhibitions” was highly informative, offering new research from several experts from academia and museums. “Who Do We Teach: Challenges and Strategies in Recognizing Our Students, and Developing and Supporting Curriculum for Multiple Constituencies” offered some interesting perspective on pedagogy, but seemed to not line up well with the expectations produced by the title. Focus was placed not on who students are, but on how certain professors deal with their own expectations of students. Several interesting and relevant questions were produced by audience members regarding how instructors and professors might apply the theories presented to their own practice. The responses seemed highly personal and largely unsatisfying for the audience, suggesting the session successfully identified an area of need, but failed to adequately address that need.

“The Other Histories of Photography: The First One Hundred Years” was comprised of five papers exploring the margins of the field, often with surprising results. In particular Melody D. Davis’ exploration of the positions and operations of stereography in 19^th century culture, and 20^th century historiography, was both enlightening and instructive. Davis’ enthusiasm and expertise effectively brought her subject to life, illustrating it’s history and relevance.  “Technology in the Art History Classroom: A Hands-On Learning Workshop” was an informative workshop offering participant the opportunity to learn briefly about four web-based pedagogical tools, followed by a more in-depth exploration of one particular tool of the participant’s choice. I appreciated the practical applications and solutions offered which helped to concretize and contextualize much of the more theoretical content of the conference.

On that theoretical note, “The Theoretical Turn”, a special session honoring the work of Rosalind Krauss, sought to elucidate Krauss’ influence on other scholars and professionals in art history. Presenters spoke about the effects that Krauss’ work has on them both personally and professionally. Yve-Alain Bois’ introduction neatly summarized the effects of Krauss’ work on his own career, and subsequent speakers elucidated their particular relationships with her work. After hearing these stories, the vast network of Krauss’ influence began to crystallize more clearly, and I appreciated hearing how various scholars have uniquely incorporated her work into their own practice.

On a practical note, the Los Angeles Convention Center could be much more visitor friendly. The lack of food options is surprising, and the existing options are reminiscent of the food one typically finds at a zoo. A few of the temporary walls dividing larger rooms have been found to be insufficient at isolating noise from neighboring sessions. Most of the sessions I visited were not more that half full, implying that smaller rooms would have been more practical and might have fostered greater discussion and debate. Of course, this may be a reflection of my own interests and choices of sessions.

“Looking forward to warm sunshine…”

“I’ve seen so many people knitting during sessions. Is there a group art project happening that I’m not aware of?”

“I’ve heard rumors of a cage match between art history profs and painting profs tomorrow.”

“If the panel is not good, I’ll be devastated. Hard to suck the fun out of Polke.”

“How many people would watch a web stream of a CAA panel?”

“David Antin confronts mystery of Duchamp’s sugar cubes–and art itself–in acceptance speech…”

“A whole panel with ‘no talking allowed’ – excited for this silent format focused on visuals”

“This is like the art history Oscars...”

“This Rosalind Krauss session at #CAA2012 is PACKED! Morbid curiosity?”

“‘That was sooo graduate student’ – overheard at #CAA2012″

“So listen closely, Grasshopper, as I parse my infinite CAA wisdom into some key points…save the sweet talk for quiet moments…don’t put all your jpegs in one basket…I can now identify the conference dress code as thoroughly ‘biz cas’…Surrounded by aesthetics, it might appear very pure and civilized, but under the surface we’re dealing with the sordid world of ‘networking.’”