A free-market lesson from the art world

All my life, I've loved the arts. As a child, I drew incessantly. Eventually I put myself into a well-respected college arts program. There began my disillusionment with fine arts as we know it. My painting professor won a significant award for his solid black oil painting. Comparing such "art", and so many other "modern" works, with paintings of the "masters", I could find no similarity, no comparable level of skill or talent, no similarity of effort, and no similarity of thought. I read commentary by others who claimed to find great significance in such works; commentary that employed a whole other language because their intent was to impress rather than communicate. Being able to praise modern art while really communicating nothing became a skill that was needed just to become part of that modern art fraternity. Once established, artists found they could produce almost anything and be praised by those who spoke the language. It progressed to the point that the more vapid the work was, the more praise it elicited, because it challenged the writer to new esoteric levels. Non-art became art.

Irregardless of my opinions, we are free to like or dislike as we choose. I have no problem with those who can convince others into paying outrageous prices for "art" that might have been produced by a chimpanzee. I have no problem with those who buy and resell such works at even higher prices. I just choose to not be part of that world.

What I do have a problem with, though, is the role governments have played in the art world. Government support of "the arts" has caused severe distortions. Government loves to produce showcases... big impressive buildings. Consider the similarity between the architectural projects of Hitler's Third Reich and today's government subsidized buildings, or governments' own buildings. They are meant to impress... to overwhelm visitors... to make the visitor feel like a serf permitted to visit the Lord's castle.

Understand that almost everything in a museum was produced by individuals, and the presumed intent of an artist is to communicate something to other individuals. When government plays a role in a museum, though, that communication is actually stifled by the vastness of presentation. Works of art become small examples of ART for the masses... a gigantic smorgasbord to be nibbled at until one is tired. Such venues overpower efforts to enjoy individual works of art. The museums are impressive, but what's in them becomes subjugated to and overwhelmed by the scale and emotional coldness of the buildings.

Less than a mile from here is an art museum very different from the several huge museums our city is known for. It's small, housed in what was once a modest church. Its annual budget is small by comparison with the competition. It is a private museum, receiving no government subsidization. The museum staff must raise money in order to stay in business. It relies heavily on volunteer help, and I am happy to be one of those volunteers.

This museum, The Museum of Russian Art is a striking example of the value of being constrained by earning ones own way, rather than feeding at the public tax-money trough. To those who have visited TMORA, it is considered a "gem" of a museum, and an experience that makes people realize what viewing art should be like. The scale of the building makes the art become part of a personal experience; it's human-scale, not monument-scale. The limited space means that visitors have time to savor each work of art. One is not in any way overwhelmed. The individual experience of a visitor is quite different from visiting a large museum. I delight in working at the reception desk because visitors stop on the way out to tell us how much they enjoyed the experience. Coming from laid-back Midwesterners, such volunteered praise is most notable. It's also not unusual for visitors to volunteer how much more they enjoyed it than they have the larger museums. TMORA's reputation has spread quickly, by word of mouth. A recent exhibit was named best of the year in the Twin Cities, beating out several big-name exhibits that had expensive marketing campaigns.

TMORA has to be financially sound. Expenditures are not made lightly, and staff members work hard to be creative and frugal. There is an excitement, though, that one will not find in the better-endowed museums... an excitement about the art itself, because the art itself is the center of attention, and every person, visitor, staff member, or volunteer becomes personally involved in the art.

Simply put, TMORA is what an art museum should be, and it is that way because it stands alone and self-supporting, undistorted by government involvement. It has to be good, and that's an incentive that government support often destroys.