And the second part of our mini-bus tour took us to the Otsuka Museum of Art ... or as someone else called it ... "The Fake Art Museum" ... oh, yes ... there is a story here, my friends ...
Housed in the largest exhibition space in Japan (total floor space is a reported 29,412 square meters) is a collection of over 1,000 ceramic reproductions of master works in Western Art. The museum was funded by the Otsuka Pharmaceutical Group, which established a committee of six Japanese art historians who decided on the works to be reproduced in the identical sizes of the originals. And if that is not curious enough, our tour guide was neither man nor woman ... in fact, it was not human, but instead was a robot named Art-kun, who debuted at the museum in July of 2009. Art-kun lead the group around the museum for an hour before we broke into smaller groups to tour the museum.
The general reaction of the group to Art-kun - ours as well as bystanders we would encounter along the way - was puzzled amazement ... was this really happening? Were we really standing and gazing at a full-size reproduction of Michelangelo's Sistine Ceiling while this self-propelled robot spoke about the significance of the work? In fact, were we still even in Japan? The answer of course, is yes ... yes, this is happening; yes, we are listening to a machine; and yes, we are still in Japan. In fact, I think only in Japan could one find such an interesting and unique use of technology ...
As someone who has seen the Sistine Ceiling "for real," the experience in Japan was far different, and yet, in some ways - dare I suggest it? - better. There were no large crowds hustling about; we had the exhibition space to ourselves. No one was screaming over and over in Italian, English, and French ... "no photos, no photos!" Instead, it was quiet and serene ... and yet, because I knew I was looking at a reproduction, I made no effort to really engage with the work itself, but instead was awed by the sheer space the fresco inhabited. And then I realized, this is exactly what I did when I saw the actual work by Michelangelo in the Vatican ... too overwhelmed by the crowds and the noise, I really could only appreciate its grand size. And then I realized that the experience of the Japanese replica was, in a way, more enriching than my experience at the Vatican, as the Sistine Ceiling sits so high above one's head, it was hard to discern the colors or figures; moreover, the lighting was poor, also creating a less than ideal viewing situation. At the Otsuka Museum of Art, the ceiling was well lit, and the work was placed far lower than the ceiling actually sits in the Vatican; moreover, the space was accessible from the second floor, thus enabling an even closer look at the work.
I know the ceiling I was looking at today was not "the real deal" ... however, I would argue that depending upon who you ask, there is little point in studying the Sistine Ceiling as it presently appears as the work of Michelangelo. In 1980, the ceiling underwent a massive restoration, much to the dismay of many art historians, who claim that the fresco was cleaned too vigorously, and its brighter colors are not what the artist originally intended. Who is to say .. the work dates from 1508 to 1512; in less than 50 years, damage from a leaking ceiling was evident, necessitating restoration and cleaning, which started in the 16th century and happened numerous times prior to its most recent cleaning.
The Otsuka Museum of Art was undoubtedly a "greatest hits" of the art of the Western world ... my enthusiasm was admittedly utterly unchecked as I moved from room to room ... there was the Villa of the Mysteries ... an Etruscan tomb ... Emperor Justinian and Empress Theodora! The Arena Chapel frescos! Six works by Caravaggio! Leonardo's Last Supper ... before and after restoration! Manet's Olympia ... and his Luncheon on the Grass! The list goes on and on ... as did the photos ... I must sincerely thank Jae, Karina, Kelly, and Amy for their patience as I made each of them take photo after photo of me. Here I am next to the Mona Lisa, me posing with the Lady Regents by Frans Hals ... oh, and there I am, nearly TOUCHING the Arnolfini Wedding Portrait! And in the midst of all of this I realized, this is like Disney World for art historians ... and as much as I adored every moment of the experience, it was a bit like a game. A really great game ... but I was awed by scale and sheer volume, not by the actual pieces themselves, something that Lisa noted as we discussed the experience on the ride home.
As I paged through the museum brochure later, I realized that while there was a great deal of technology involved in the creation of these ceramic reproductions, there was also a surprising amount of hands-on retouching of the reproductions by other artists. Artists who have their own style, their own manner of holding a paintbrush or applying color. Perhaps that is why my beloved Olympia didn't seem quite right ... or the proportions in Titan's Venus of Urbino seemed off. In seeking to perfectly recreate these pieces, there is something important missing. And yet, I have never seen Manet's Olympia for myself ... or Titian's Venus of Urbino. But I could describe every inch of each of these paintings to you, even with my eyes closed, as I have studied them in countless books, both as a student and as a teacher.
Where does this leave us? With a lot of interesting questions ... who decides what is worthy of reproduction? What is authentic? How important is the actual experience of a work of art versus a reproduction? For my students who have been following my adventures via the blog ... you know where this line of questioning will lead. It is ultimately up to the individual to determine what constitutes art ... of course, not everything can be art, or the word would lose its meaning. However, I would argue that the works within the Otsuka Museum of Art can be called art for numerous reasons, even if they are, well, fake.
Study Tour
