Filming commences in Windhover Hall. Photo by Melissa Marchese

I am interning for Chelsea while she is building a MOOC (Massive Open Online Course). These courses are available to anyone online, and the Museum received a special grant to develop a course. This one in particular was about getting to look at art in a different way. I know this must be shocking to hear from a Milwaukee Art Museum intern, but growing up my favorite form of art wasn’t actually paintings, sculptures or photography–it was dance. I had very little knowledge of art or its history, which actually made me the perfect candidate for interning for this MOOC: I love museums, but I never knew how to interpret it. Working on this MOOC has made me look at art differently.

Chelsea Kelly looks over her lines while Ray Chi readies the shot. Photo by Melissa Marchese

Despite not knowing much about art itself, this internship was well within my skill set. Having knowledge and skill from my studies in communication, management and technology really aided me in these tasks.

Ray Chi gets the mic ready for Nate Pyper while Laci Coppins looks on. Photo by Chelsea Kelly

In the past, I knew how to film, edit and publish videos, even putting one on a Wikipedia page. I had no idea, however, how professional filming worked. I had the opportunity to aid Chelsea while she was being filmed for the official course videos. The videographer was Ray Chi, an and a multimedia content developer. I love everything to do with media and multimedia so it was a thrill to see him work. I aided him by helping move the camera and helping Chelsea with her lines. I learned so much about angles, lighting, motion on camera, and different ways keep videos interesting.

Building a course is not just about the outcomes–it is also about finding students for your class. I was able to put my management skills to the test by finding various ways of advertising for this MOOC. The first thing I did was research MOOCs and other companies/universities offering online courses. After carefully crafting the right questions and finding the perfect people to contact, I sent out two emails to other museums who offer MOOCs. This was a great experience for me: I have written professional emails before, but I never wrote one where I was writing as an intern working on specific projects.

Former teen program student Brandon is filmed for an activity while staff members Laci Coppins and Nate Pyper look on. AV Tech Christian Kocinski and Ray Chi man the cameras. Photo by Chelsea Kelly

I also had a meeting with the Museum’s Public Relations Manager, Kristen Settle, where I used my background in journalism to interview her about how she thought we could advertise this MOOC. In this interview, I gained a lot of insight on the inner workings of PR and advertising. Thanks to her answers and the responses to my emails (along with some ideas of my own), I was able to report on many ideas about how to advertise the MOOC.

Working for Chelsea this summer was an experience that I am so happy came to me. It had been a long time since I had worked in a business setting and I could not have asked for a better place. This project was a great opportunity for me to be able to use the skills I have gained from Alverno College in a professional environment. The nervousness I felt about my skills grew into confidence. And I am happy to say that my work with the Milwaukee Art Museum is not over yet. My internship will continue on into the fall. I look forward to continue working with Chelsea, and expanding my skills even further.

–Melissa Marchese, Digital Learning Programs Intern

A number of artists featured in the special exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums are represented in the collection of the Milwaukee Art Museum.  This is the first in a series of blog posts that will highlight Milwaukee’s paintings during the run of the exhibition.

Antonio Balestra (Italian, 1666–1740), The Meeting of Telemachus and Calypso, ca. 1700. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, bequest of Eliza Eliot Fitch M1955.3. Photo credit: Larry Sanders.

Active in the very end of the 17th century and the first part of the 18th century, Antonio Balestra was an Italian painter of the “late Baroque.”

What does that mean?  Well, it means that he worked during a time of transition between the theatrical narratives and dramatic light and shadow of the high Baroque (think Caravaggio) and the bright, elegant style called Rococo (think Tiepolo).

Accordingly, the Milwaukee Art Museum’s painting by Balestra, The Meeting of Telemachus and Calypso, is filled with larger-than-life figures (Baroque) elegantly arranged and beautifully modeled with light colors (Rococo).

Balestra originally trained in Venice, where the loose brushwork and atmospheric color of Titian had informed the work of generations of artists.  Early in his career he spent time in Rome, where he was influenced the classical restraint of Renaissance artists such of Raphael.  He eventually returned to Venice, where he had a long and successful career.

The subject of our painting comes from a 1699 book by the French author François Fénelon.  Called The Adventures of Telemachus, it was based upon characters from the Greek epic poem The Odyssey.

Antonio Balestra (Italian, 1666–1740), The Meeting of Telemachus and Calypso (detail), ca. 1700. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, bequest of Eliza Eliot Fitch M1955.3. Photo credit: Larry Sanders.

The female figure is the nymph Calypso, well-known for delaying the Greek hero Odysseus on his way home from the Trojan War.

The young man is Telemachus, who, when his father Odysseus does not return home after the Trojan War, goes out to search for him.  He is aided in his quest by the goddess Athena disguised as an old man named Mentor.

When Telemachus lands on the island, Calypso immediately falls in love with him.  Meanwhile, Telemachus himself falls in love with the nymph Eucharis.  Despite this, he eventually leaves the island in order to do his duty and continue his search for his father.

I love the composition of The Meeting of Telemachus and Calypso.  All of the figures are close to the viewer, making us feel like part of the scene, and they crouch, twist, and balance in ways that at first make sense but upon further investigation are completely unnatural.

Antonio Balestra (Italian, 1666–1740), The Meeting of Telemachus and Calypso, ca. 1700. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, bequest of Eliza Eliot Fitch M1955.3. Photo credit: Larry Sanders.

They cascade across the canvas from the upper left to the lower right.  Calypso leans back, dramatically enveloped in drapery and seductively revealing a shoulder, her one foot lifted gracefully off the ground and her other daintily resting on a toe.  The putto in front of her points to Telemachus while Cupid sits behind her, his bow raised, symbolizing the immediate love that the nymph will have for the young adventurer.  In the meantime, beautiful (and barely dressed) Telemachus holds a traveling stick in one hand and pushes a shrub out of the way with the other.  He looks off into the distance for his father, unaware of Calypso’s gaze.

Although today the story of Telemachus is not very familiar, Fénelon’s book, written as an attack on the French monarchy, was enormously popular for many decades and inspired a number of artists.  Just a few examples include:

• In 1782, Angelika Kauffmann (Swiss, 1741-1807) painted a pair of paintings (here and here) for Monsignor Onorato Caetani in Rome.
• The Corcoran Gallery of Art owns a late work by Benjamin West (American, active England, 1738-1820).
• A masterful neoclassical painting by Jacques-Louis David (French, 1748-1825) is in the collection of the J. Paul Getty Museum.

When our collection galleries reopen in 2015, you might see the Milwaukee Art Museum’s Antonio Balestra painting.  In the meantime, you can see a lovely example of Balestra’s work in the feature exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Art from Glasgow Museums, on view at the Milwaukee Art Museum through January 4, 2015.

Catherine Sawinski is the Assistant Curator of Earlier European Art. When not handling the day-to-day running of the European art department and the Museum’s Fine Arts Society, she researches the collection of Ancient and European artwork before 1900.

A number of artists featured in the special exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums are represented in the collection of the Milwaukee Art Museum.  This is the second in a series of blog posts that will highlight Milwaukee’s paintings during the run of the exhibition.

Andrea Locatelli (Italian, 1695–1741), Landscape with a River and a Group of Figures Near A Roman Altar, ca. 1730. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Mr. and Mrs. William D. Kyle, Sr. M1967.126. Photo credit: John R. Glembin.

Imagine it is the early 18th century.  You are an Italian noble and need to decorate your villa.  Who do you hire to make some paintings for you?

For many, the answer would have been Andrea Locatelli (Italian, 1695-1741).  He’s not a household name today, but during his lifetime, Locatelli was famous.  The venerable Colonna family of Rome, who were great art patrons, owned 80 of his paintings!

The Milwaukee Art Museum has a lovely pair of paintings from Locatelli’s late career: Landscape with a River and Group of Figures Near A Roman Altar and Mountainous Landscape with Shepherds and Animals.

Hanging on the wall, the paintings would have looked like windows overlooking a view of the Italian countryside: lush trees framing Roman ruins, hills in the background, a river in the mist.  It’s definitely Italy, but it’s an idealized Italy—you would not be able to recognize this particular location, because it doesn’t actually exist.

To the dramatic landscape, Locatelli has added small-scale figures.  In the river landscape, some well-dressed travelers and country women stand around a half-nude figure of a man gesturing dramatically.  In the mountainous landscape, shepherds and their dog make their way through the valley.

There is no elaborate narrative here.  The figures are meant to add to the charm and human interest of the paintings, the same way that the ancient ruins do!

Overall, Locatelli’s paintings evoke the balanced elegance of the Italian Rococo.  But they come from contentious beginnings.

Andrea Locatelli (Italian, 1695–1741), Mountainous Landscape with Shepherds and Animals, ca. 1730. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Mr. and Mrs. William D. Kyle, Sr. M1967.125. Photo credit: John R. Glembin.

In the 1600s, a group of northern European artists came to Rome and established successful careers.  They brought with them the style of genre painting—ordinary people in everyday situations—which was so popular in their homeland.  One artist, Pieter van Laer (Dutch, 1599-ca. 1642), was nicknamed il Bamboccio (large baby) due to his disproportionate body.  The group of painters became known as the bamboccianti, and eventually any small-scale genre painting became known as bambocciate.  Here’s an example by Karel Dujardina (Dutch, 1626-1678).

The Italian aristocracy and bourgeoisie couldn’t get enough of bambocciate.  Italian artists, however, were highly critical of inclusion of common people from contemporary Italian life into art.  They considered it ugly and in poor taste.  The money to be made from these paintings, however, meant that Italian artists began to adopt the subject matter.  Locatelli is an artist of a later generation who specialized in this type of painting.

But it is clear that genre is not the primary interest for Locatelli.  He was also influenced by artists who worked in the classicizing landscape tradition, creating idealized landscapes peopled with attractive figures in order to form a beautiful painting.  French painter Gaspard Dughet (1615-1675) is just one of the landscape painters that inspired Locatelli.

When our collection galleries reopen in 2015, you might see the Milwaukee Art Museum’s paintings by Andrea Locatelli.  In the meantime, you can see a lovely example of Locatelli’s work in the feature exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums , on view at the Milwaukee Art Museum through January 4, 2015.

Catherine Sawinski is the Assistant Curator of Earlier European Art. When not handling the day-to-day running of the European art department and the Museum’s Fine Arts Society, she researches the collection of Ancient and European artwork before 1900.

A number of artists featured in the special exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums are represented in the collection of the Milwaukee Art Museum. This is the third in a series of blog posts that will highlight Milwaukee’s paintings during the run of the exhibition.

Antonio Mancini (Italian, 1852–1930), On the Eve of Her Wedding, ca. 1882. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Mrs. S. S. Merrill M1919.33. Photo by John Glembin.

In researching a museum’s collection, the story behind the acquisition of an artwork can sometimes be just as interesting as the artwork itself. The Milwaukee Art Museum’s On the Eve of Her Wedding by Antonio Mancini (Italian, 1852-1930) is a great example.

Mancini began his artistic studies at the age of 12. In 1875 and again in 1877, he visited Paris—then the center of the avant-garde world—where he met French Impressioninists Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) and Edouard Manet (French, 1832-1883). Mancini’s loose, expressive brushstroke and dark color choices were clearly influenced by Manet. At one point, John Singer Sargent (American, 1856-1925) declared Mancini to be the greatest living painter.

In his 1880s work, On the Eve of Her Wedding, a bride-to-be has paused in her wedding preparations, a light-colored thread dangling from the spray of orange blossoms she is arranging for the next day.

Her face rests on her hand, which in turn lies on the back of a chair. She is lost in her own thoughts, a smiling flitting across her face, her eyes sparkling in excitement, her cheeks red with anticipation. Mancini has perfectly captured a happy young woman in a private moment.

Although Mancini has chosen a traditional genre subject, the composition feels very modern. The woman’s black dress is hard to distinguish from the dark background, but the light-colored details so important to the subject—her face, her hand, her flowers, and her thread—pop out at the viewer rather than blend together into a whole. The tipping of her head at a 90 degree angle to the direction of the canvas is slightly disorienting: her face pulls the viewer’s attention to the edge of the painting rather than the middle.

On the Eve of Her Wedding came to the Museum in 1919 from Mr. and Mrs. S.S. Merrill of Milwaukee. Mr. Merril was Sherburn Sanborn Merrill, an executive of the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway. In 1879, he founded the railroad shops—where the workers would build and repair railway equipment—in the Menomonee Valley. To provide housing for the over 2,500 workers and their families, in 1883 he created Merrill Park between 27th and 35th Streets, south of Wisconsin Avenue and north of the Menomonee Valley.

In the early 1880s, Mr. and Mrs. Merrill traveled to Italy, where they met Antonio Mancini in person. The artist was known for his popular genre paintings and his portraits. Both of the Merrills sat for portraits, and they were so happy with the result, a second one of Mrs. Merrill was commissioned. (If you’d like to see more of his work, both the Wisconsin Historical Society and the Milwaukee Public Library have a painted portrait of S.S. Merrill by Mancini. These portraits were ordered from Mancini by Mrs. Merrill from a photograph after Mr. Merrill died in 1885.)

While in Italy, the Merrills purchased On the Eve of Her Wedding. Mrs. Merrill gave it to the Milwaukee Art Institute, the predecessor of the Milwaukee Art Museum, in 1919. The director of the Institute, Dudley Crafts Watson, wrote a glowing article about the acquisition in the Milwaukee Journal from December 7 of that year.

Antonio Mancini (Italian, 1852–1930), On the Eve of Her Wedding, ca. 1882. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Mrs. S. S. Merrill M1919.33. Photo by John Glembin.

Watson called Mancini a “brilliant Impressionist technician.” He goes on to say that “the color of his pictures was rich and old with a scintillating light and a dazzle of life that the old masters never attained. Painting with a full brush and often the palette knife there was nothing tight or smooth to his expression.”

Watson finished his announcement with the declaration that Mrs. Merrill’s gift was “proof of the place the institute has made for itself in the community and of its permanency.” He was right–here we are almost 100 years later, able to enjoy Mancini’s painting now part of the collection of the Milwaukee Art Museum.

When our collection galleries reopen in 2015, you might see the Milwaukee Art Museum’s painting by Antonio Mancini.  In the meantime, you can see a lovely example of Mancini’s work in the feature exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums, on view at the Milwaukee Art Museum through January 4, 2015.

Catherine Sawinski is the Assistant Curator of Earlier European Art. When not handling the day-to-day running of the European art department and the Museum’s Fine Arts Society, she researches the collection of Ancient and European artwork before 1900.

Screenshot of the Milwaukee Art Museum Twitter page, @MilwaukeeArt

Of course, we museum staff do this every day on site and online, but we love that Ask a Curator Day gives us the chance to reach a huge virtual audience from all around the world. After the jump, you’ll find some highlights from our Twitter feed on Ask a Curator Day. Thanks to everyone who tweeted us!

@ktlwalker From @lisajsutcliffe: I like modern & contemporary art, esp. photography since 1970s. I liked Color Rush and Dirk Skreber.

— Milwaukee Art Museum (@MilwaukeeArt) September 17, 2014

Remember that you can ask our curators questions any day–tweet us, say hello on Facebook, or stop by in person. And we love Ask a Curator so much that we’ve even got an analogue version in our Kohl’s Education Center Lab: Museum Inside Out, on view through November 2.

Big thanks to the tireless Mar Dixon for spearheading Ask a Curator Day internationally, and of course thanks to our equally tireless PR Manager, Kristin Settle, and curatorial team here at the Museum for answering questions. We can’t wait for next year!

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

Donovan Wylie (British, b. Northern Ireland, 1971). The Preparatory City. Marquette Interchange, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 2014. Inkjet print, 60 × 80 in. (152.4 × 203.2 cm). Milwaukee Art Museum, purchase, Herzfeld Foundation Acquisition Fund, M2014.36.

Postcards from America: Milwaukee shows the recent work of eleven Magnum Photographers, invited to photograph Milwaukee during the prior year as part of the Postcards for America project. None of these photographers were local, so their photographs—ranging from portraits at the Wisconsin State Fair to polaroids to an installation memorial for a deceased musician—were provocative for a group of high schoolers who have spent their whole lives here.

This was also the first time most of these students had ever met each other. Hailing from twelve different Milwaukee-area high schools, and often the lone “art nerd” in their class, for most of the students, they came together for the Satellite High School Program, a semester-long, weekly program taking place at the Museum. For most, it was the first time they’ve ever been in a room where everyone else was just as into art as they are.

Title view of Postcards from America: Milwaukee, with prompts teens used to explore the exhibition.

After exploring the exhibition in pairs with a set of prompts (see photo above), we came together in front of Donovan Wylie’s The Preparatory City—Marquette Interchange (2014), which is situated in between two additional photographs by Wylie (pictured below).

Donovan Wylie (British, b. Northern Ireland, 1971). The Preparatory City. West Virginia Street. Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 2014. Inkjet print, 40 × 50 in. (101.6 × 127 cm). Milwaukee Art Museum, purchase, Herzfeld Foundation Acquisition Fund, M2014.35.

We moved up close, looking at details in the monumental photograph (it’s 5’ x 6 ½’)—a lone street light, a red fire hydrant, specks of litter on snow-scattered patches of grass, a hazy white truck idling in the distance. The teens talked of the height of the columns, so much like temples or cathedrals stretching up into the sky, even as they’re blocked by the road itself, stopping our eyes from reaching the top of the frame.

Donovan Wylie (British, b. Northern Ireland, 1971). The Preparatory City. Marquette Interchange, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 2014. Inkjet print, 60 × 80 in. (152.4 × 203.2 cm). Milwaukee Art Museum, purchase, Herzfeld Foundation Acquisition Fund, M2014.36.

Then another student asked: “Is the artist making a satirical statement about the city—about how sad it is that we’re ready for a population who probably will never come? Should we be offended?” Deeply embedded themselves in the difficulties facing the city in terms of segregation and education, the students began to talk about how it seems like nothing ever really gets better, even though there’s a lot of talk surrounding all these challenges.

Donovan Wylie (British, b. Northern Ireland, 1971). The Preparatory City. East Michigan and North Water Street. Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 2014. Inkjet print, 40 × 50 in. (101.6 × 127 cm). Milwaukee Art Museum, purchase, with funds from the Carol and Leonard Lewensohn Donor Advised Fund of the Jewish Community Foundation, M2014.37

The tenor of the group changed, and we began to talk about what could be done to open up these conversations into ways to get things done and bring more people in. We ended by agreeing that photographs like this, and the exhibition itself, are an important first step, and that there is unexpected empowerment that comes in seeing your city photographed through the eyes of outsiders.

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

This past June, I participated in a two-week workshop at Harvard University’s metaLAB called Beautiful Data: Telling Stories with Open Collections. Thanks to a grant from the Getty Foundation, the metaLAB brought together over twenty curators, technologists, educators, and scholars to grapple with how we might use publicly available data from museum collections in our work. In the first week, speakers as varied as digital museum specialists to experience designers to scientists who study vision all pressed us to think of our work in unexpected contexts. In the second week, we took what we’d discussed and applied them to projects of our own.

Over the past four months, I’ve let the ideas and theories of Beautiful Data percolate in my visitor-centered soul, and I’ve come to realize this: although open collections is a movement born in the digital realm, I believe its principles are essential to how a 21st-century cultural institution can reach visitors today—whether virtual, physical, or personal.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

What are Open Collections?

“Open collections” is a museum technology term that refers to a museum (or more appropriately, a GLAM—gallery, library, archive, or museum) “opening” all of collections data for anyone to freely use, reuse, or distribute it. In this context, data refers not only to an image of an artwork in a collection, for example, but all of an object’s “metadata” or supporting information, such as artist, time of creation, subject matter, size, medium, and so on. If the collection of your museum is digitally open, you release an API (application programming interface) that allows programmers to easily pull that data into lots of different contexts, such as websites or apps. The idea, according to the OpenGLAM movement, is that it allows “users not only to enjoy the riches of the world’s memory institutions, but also to contribute, participate and share.” (For a more in-depth explanation of museum APIs, check out this blog post from the SFMOMA Lab.)

Metadata sounds like tombstone information—in other words, that basic information that lives on a museum label, and on its own, might not necessarily be that compelling. The magic of open collections data, though, is that through technology, all those individual bits of information can be packaged together and unpacked, visualized and disseminated in different ways. In short, like many of our most successful museum education programs, the cool stuff happens when you release it into the wild and let people play.

Perhaps the most famous example of a museum opening up its collection is the Rijksmuseum, which in 2011 published an API and allowed free access to high-quality images of its artworks. But most stunningly, it not only allowed, but loudly encouraged anyone who wanted to create new interpretations of those artworks, from coffee cups to clothing. They even hosted a contest on the huge handmade marketplace website Etsy.

Another great example is by Florian Kräutli, one of my fellow Beautiful Data participants, who took Tate’s open collections data and visualized it—noticing that over half its collection is by J. M. W. Turner, prompting him into a rabbit hole of discovery into exactly why that is (you can read his blog post on the project to find out more). Museums are supporting this type of play in-house, too: the Cooper-Hewitt team has a treasure trove of ways they’ve used their collections data on their blog, including a search-by-color tool and “Robot Rothko” (which is just as awesome as it sounds). As his final project, Beautiful Data participant Richard Barrett-Small, formerly of Tate, built on the Cooper-Hewitt’s color tool to create Colour Lens, a color visualization explorer for multiple museum collections.

In short, the big idea here is that open collections allow cultural institutions to complete their educational missions: not only showing our objects to as many people as possible (no matter where they are in the world—thanks, internet!), but giving people ownership of our collections and spaces by welcoming them to engage in any way they can dream up.

Investigating Transformative Experiences with Art

Let’s turn back to my personal experience at Beautiful Data. It’s rare that museum staff are ever able to think about the what ifs and why nots, to set aside time to imagine, play, and prototype. Happily, at Beautiful Data, we had two full weeks to do exactly that.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

As a visitor-centered museum educator, I think a lot about the humans experiencing our institutions. As a visitor-centered museum technologist, I think about people too, albeit those in the ether of the web—no less real than my students, though often more anonymous. At Beautiful Data, though, we went extremely big-picture—this meant discussions of data visualizations (graphical ways to show stories about data), institutional collecting patterns and preferences, and thinking about how not just staff but organizations could collaborate together through comparing and sharing their collections data.

To be honest, this sometimes frustrated me. As one of two educators in the group, I was always asking, “but what about the people who will actually use this information?” That question was certainly on the minds of other participants, but I came to realize that “users” could just as often mean internal staff members as external visitors.

With all this in mind, for my Beautiful Data final project, I decided to tackle an idea that has been a seed in my work for some time: amassing stories or personal connections with works of art from museum visitors, and seeing what patterns I could find about how people interact with collections. I posted a survey asking people to share their “transformative experiences with works of art,” and waited to see what I’d get.

I was struck by the stories I received. Regardless of length or whether the respondent was a museum professional or a scientist, even if they had only seen the work one time, each story was full of heart—beautiful, nostalgic, sometimes wrenching connections between a work of art and the person’s own life.

Despite a week blissfully surrounded by all things nerdy-tech (read: 3D printers, APIs, and Lytro cameras), instead of building a minimal website or massaging the words into data, I instead was compelled to handwrite key phrases on paper, print out full responses and images of their chosen piece, and pin them to a wall. My project quickly turned into a completely physical installation: a purposefully unscientific data visualization of the responses people had submitted.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

Documentary photos of my installation can be seen throughout this post.

Some stories were long, others just a handful of cryptic sentences. Some had art historical, factual descriptions backing up their thoughts; others never looked up a single extra bit of information about the artwork after they saw it. Some ruminated on the object for many years; others were hit in the gut all of a sudden upon turning a corner.

For all that, every single story had two things in common. In each, there was a deeply personal reason behind the individual’s connection to the artwork, and each was written in a tone of reverence—towards the power of these images to arrest a person, to stir up unexpected thoughts or feelings, to stick in their mind for years and years afterward.

To be continued next week in Part 2. This essay originally appeared on ArtMuseumTeaching.com.

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

When my teen program started up again this fall, I brought my students into the Milwaukee Art Museum galleries to look at a single work of art for an hour (you can read more about this processhere.) As usual, I noticed the high schoolers opening up to each other, to new ideas, and to finding ways that art relates to their everyday life—whether a photograph of Milwaukee or a landscape by a Baroque Italian painter. These discussions are guided by the students—I might throw in some useful facts to open up the conversation, but they take the lead. As a result, on any given day, we might relate artworks to religion, politics, narratives, families and friends, or even moods and feelings.

During these sessions, the teens are given permission to engage with these objects in a manner entirely new to them: instead of the 7-second “drive by” glance, they’re encouraged to bring their own opinions, thoughts, and questions to these artworks.

This fall, as I watched the students unfold these pieces and their own thoughts every week, and as I thought about my own project at Beautiful Data, I started to realize how intimately connected my discussion-based teaching style and experience-based project are to the big ideas behind the open collections movement.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

In the realm of digital, opening collections data and encouraging people to play with it allows for deeper engagement in and participation with our collections. For my teen programs, which take place physically in the museum, the same goal holds—for my students to feel comfortable engaging with and connecting with the collection. For my Beautiful Data project about transformative experiences with works of art, each respondent was open to having an experience with a work of art that turned out to be intimate and meaningful.

Too often in the museum field, we become siloed. The cross-pollinated conversations and projects at Beautiful Data with folks from many different museum departments helped me see that most of the time, we’re all saying the same thing.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

We all want our collections to be open to the public. We all want to give visitors opportunities to engage with objects. All that said, the devil’s in the details, as they say, and, as I learned from fellow participants at Beautiful Data, “openness” might mean different things in different contexts, or to different people within our institutions. For a museum technologist who’s part of the OpenGLAM movement, it might mean creating an API for her institution’s collection. For a curator, it might mean presenting art with minimal labels to allow visitors to bring their own thoughts to the work. For an educator, it might mean hosting a monthly “slow art” day, facilitating a one hour conversation about a single work of art. For a visitor, it might mean taking a selfie with a work of art to share with friends on Instagram—or perhaps having a life-changing, transformative moment with an object—or maybe exploring the collection online even though they live halfway around the world from the institution itself.

If we’re all saying the same thing, then why does it sometimes seem like we’re not on the same page? It might be because we’re speaking slightly different languages (after all, our departments borrow from our content areas—whether technology terms, art history/academic jargon, or educator-ese). It might be because when we are speaking together, we’re only hearing what we want to hear instead of what the other person is actually saying. It might be because we’re not taking time to speak to each other at all.

View of the author’s Beautiful Data Final Project installation. Photo by the author

I can tell you firsthand with Beautiful Data under my belt that it’s worth it to step outside the comfort zone of our own department. Internally, let’s challenge ourselves to learn new vocabulary and have discussions with others outside of our own departments. That way, our principles and beliefs can start to be shared among staff in different areas. When we speak the same language internally, we’ll have the power to push our institutions into a new paradigm, as Jay Rounds discusses in a recent article on Museum Questions, or as Mike Murawski suggests in his article about museums embracing a “digital mindset.”

And externally? Open collections, at its core, is about access to our institutions—whether digitally through collection APIs, physically through innovative programming in our galleries, or personally through highlighting the stories of people who have had powerful experiences with objects. Opening access in this way can be scary, because it can sometimes mean giving up some control, such as rights, an authoritative institutional voice, or even the context and purpose of looking at artwork. But those risky moments are also when great change has the potential to occur. If we want our collections to be relevant and meaningful in the 21st century, we must be brave enough to open up our doors—physically and virtually—to support, encourage, and celebrate the profound and magical experiences with art that happen next, whatever they might be.

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

Antiveduto Gramatica (Italian, 1571–1626), St. Dorothy, late 16th–early 17th century. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Dr. and Mrs. Alfred Bader M1971.23. Photo credit: John R. Glembin

A number of artists featured in the special exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums are represented in the collection of the Milwaukee Art Museum. This is the fourth in a series of blog posts that will highlight Milwaukee’s paintings during the run of the exhibition.

Italian baroque painting can be bold, dramatic—and downright gruesome.  Artememsia Gentileschi’s Judith Slaying Holofernes or Caravaggio’s David with the Head of Goliath are two great examples. The theatricality is in part a result of the demands of the Catholic Church, which was reacting to the Protestant movements spreading throughout Europe.  Their response was called the Counter-Reformation.  In order to encourage a return to Catholicism, the Church commissioned art that would capture the viewer’s attention with drama and emotion.

But not all Italian Baroque paintings are blood and guts.  Some can draw in the viewer with a quiet, contemplative air.  One such painting is the Milwaukee Art Museum’s St. Dorothy by Antiveduto Gramatica (Italian, 1571-1626).

That said, St. Dorothy’s story does have its violence.  She was an early Christian virgin who was matyred in the city of Caesarea in Cappadocia, which is in present-day Turkey.  She was brought before the governor, who persecuted Christians, and was told she must worship the pagan gods or die.  Her response was that she would gladly accept death in order to join Christ, her betrothed, in the garden of Paradise where fruits and roses are always fresh.

When led away to her death, Dorothy was mocked by a lawyer named Theophilus.  He asked for some of the fruits and flowers when she got to heaven.  At the place of her execution, a young boy suddenly appeared with a basket full of fruit and flowers even though it was winter.  Dorothy asked him to take the basket to Theophilus and tell him who sent it.  Theophilus ate the heavenly fruit and was converted, eventually becoming a martyr himself.

Antiveduto Gramatica (Italian, 1571–1626), St. Dorothy, late 16th–early 17th century. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Dr. and Mrs. Alfred Bader M1971.23. Photo credit: John R. Glembin

Despite the threat of death, in our painting Dorothy turns her head gently to side, her eyes downcast, elegantly holding out her basket of fruit and flowers.  Although a young girl, she awaits her fate calmly.  Her pose conveys her tranquil inner thoughts.

Aspects of Baroque style add to the mood of the painting.  The use of strong chiaroscuro—or the use of light and dark from one light source—to show St. Dorothy as three-dimensional against a dark background makes her seem like a lone actor on a stage.

She is show three-quarter length at practically life-size and very close to the picture plane.  Standing in front of her, you feel that she is right there in your space.  Her basket comes out towards us, as if she is handing it over.  Talk about an emotional appeal to join her in the faith of the Catholic church!

The great artist Caravaggio that I mentioned at the beginning of this post actually studied for a short time in Antiveduto Gramatica’s workshop.  After the younger artist started his own career, the teacher adopted some of the popular techniques of his star pupil.  When Caravaggio died at the young age of 37, Gramatica was one of the many artists who filled the demand for paintings of his style.  Although we are not lucky enough to have a Caravaggio, we do have a lovely Gramatica to represent the Italian Baroque.

When our collection galleries reopen in 2015, you might see the Milwaukee Art Museum’s painting by Antiveduto Gramatica.  In the meantime, you can see a lovely example of Gramatica’s work in the feature exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums, on view at the Milwaukee Art Museum through January 4, 2015.

Catherine Sawinski is the Assistant Curator of Earlier European Art. When not handling the day-to-day running of the European art department and the Museum’s Fine Arts Society, she researches the collection of Ancient and European artwork before 1900.

Michelle Bastyr, Kohl’s Art Generation Community Relations Coordinator, uses her iPhone in the Museum’s Windhover Hall. Photo by the author

So it’s about time I asked staff here at the Milwaukee Art Museum what tech they use to get stuff done. You might think we museum people are all about “old stuff” (and, of course, we do love a good 500-year-old painting), but we here at MAM are pretty techie indeed. Today, I’m sharing some of our staff’s favorites apps and websites with you. You don’t have to work at an art museum to use these apps in your work or life–I guarantee it!

Pinterest
Web | iOS | Android

It’s not surprising that Museum staff love Pinterest, that visually-driven inspiration mecca for crafts and DIY. Shannon Molter, Educator for Youth and Family Programs, uses Pinterest for art activity ideas in the Kohl’s Art Generation Studio. Krista Renfrew, Director of Special Events such as MAM After Dark, says she uses Pinterest “to brainstorm themes and concepts. [It’s] a super easy way to create a look and feel, and then share–a visual way to show people the direction you are going. We had a killer board for the James Bond themed Bal du Lac.”

Timeline: Art Museum
iOS | Android

You might think museum staff know all there is to know about art history, but there’s always more to learn! I love this app suggestion from Meghan Walsh, Tour Scheduler, who says: “I use Timeline: Art Museum pretty much every docent lecture. I don’t have an art history background, and the app is kind of like a pocket art history text book. It lists artists in, well, a timeline–so it’s great for the times when docents say something like ‘Lucas Cranach the elder was working in Germany in the early 1500’s, so consider this work compared to his Italian contemporaries…’, I use the app to figure out that his Italian contemporaries were people like Leonardo Da Vinci and Michelangelo, and it all makes a little more sense.”

The Mindfulness App and Relax Melodies
The Mindfulness App: iOS | Android
Relax Melodies: iOS | Android

Sometimes you just need a reminder to breathe during a busy workday. Laci Coppins, Manager of School and Teacher Programs, uses these two apps to do just that. The Mindfulness App, she says, “reminds you to relax and takes you through strategies to do so.” And Relax Melodies, “which I particularly love, uses the sounds of nature to offer serenity during stressful times and moments of intense construction.” (That’s not a typo–we are indeed going through moments of intense construction, as Laci so beautifully put it, for our reinstallation project!)

Autodesk Sketchbook
iOS | Android

Many of our staff are also practicing artists, so what would a MAM Staff tech list be without a Sketchbook app? Brent Henzig, Youth and Family Programs Coordinator, recommends Autodesk Sketchbook: “I turn to this app to work through ideas when a pen and paper are not available. It also allows working in layers and has an ‘oops’ step-back function to undo any mistakes without having to erase, so it’s great for ideating and working with more complex designs.” Bonus rec from Brett: “I’ve also recently grown fond of building things in Minecraft.” And before you ask, yes, he knows about Tate Worlds–“I’ve been telling parents about that in the Studio; I think it’s helping them cope with their children’s addiction to Minecraft!”

Delicious
Web | iOS | Android

Finally (for now, at least!), I’ll leave you with my own personal favorite tech tool to use at work: Delicious, a bookmark keeper that works across devices and computers (I like the Google Chrome browser extension). I save a TON of work-related links–research, articles, reports on everything from museums, technology, art history, leadership, feminism, education, and more, and I tag every single one. Delicious is hugely helpful when I’m writing a grant or blog post, need to cite something, and can then quickly search my links for a certain topic, trend, or tool. If you want to see what I’ve saved lately, here’s my Delicious page. By the way, now that Google Reader is no longer with us (R.I.P., my former favorite RSS reader), I get most of my museum news and articles from Twitter, another favorite tech tool of mine!

Do you have any tech recommendations for us? Leave them in the comments below so we can add some more apps to our to-download lists!

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

Documenting the ArtXpress installation. Photo by Front Room Photography

It’s not news that the ArtXpress program has a lasting presence. ArtXpress is a teen program in which students create a mural inspired by the feature exhibition that positively addresses an issue in the city of Milwaukee. That mural is displayed not only in the Museum, but also on the side of a Milwaukee County Transit System bus for about a year.

The ArtXpress students and the finished bus mural. Photo by Front Room Photography

ArtXpress notecard set. Photo by Museum Store

I was telling Donele about the program and she suggested the teens’ artwork could be featured as a notecard set to sell in the Store, especially around the holiday season. I loved the idea–to have their work live on in a totally new way was really exciting to the students, and moreover, the teens’ four murals were perfect for a set of notecards.

Donele and the Store team worked hard to print up a first run of the set before the program celebration in late August so that each of the students could take one home for free. Last week, they ran a beautiful ad featuring the notecard set, which you can see below. I thought this was a great time to share the teens’ work on the blog, as well as thank the Museum Store for highlighting the students’ work!

Museum Store Advertisement featuring ArtXpress notecard set

Personally, I’ll be buying a few sets on one of the Member Double Discount Days and will be using them for holiday greeting cards this year! If you’re interested, you can stop into the store or online and get a set, too. Here’s to more future cross-departmental collaborations!

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

Francesco Solimena (Italian, 1657–1747), Madonna and Child with St. Januarius and St. Sebastian, ca. 1700. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Friends of Art M1964.35. Photo credit: Larry Sanders.

The black death. It terrorized Europe for centuries. Although the knowledge of modern medicine means that plagues are not widespread today, the power of disease and its strain on society is still evident.

In times of stress, we often turning to tradition and religion. In an earlier blog post, we explored this reaction in 14th century Florence through our painting by Nardo di Cione. The Milwaukee Art Museum has another artwork in the collection that illustrates this response in late 17th century Naples.

The painting is Madonna and Child with St. Januarius and St. Sebastian by the great Baroque artist Francesco Solimena (Italian, 1657-1747). (Solimena’s work is also featured in our current exhibition, Of Heaven and Earth.) The Milwaukee painting—because of its large scale (over 8 feet tall!)—was most likely envisioned to be an altarpiece for a church.

The active yet elegant composition forms an arc with the most important figures, the Virgin Mary and Jesus, at the apex, perched on top of a cloud. Below them on the left is St. Januarius (a bishop who was martyred around 305 AD); on the right is St. Sebastian (an early martyr who was shot with arrows). All of the figures are classically modeled, surrounded by billowing drapery and lit by a glowing light—it is clear why Solimena’s style made him the preeminent artist of his time.

But there is more going on in this altarpiece than just two saints showing their devotion to the Virgin Mary and her son. Look at the emotion in their poses. The head of St. Januarius tips up, his hands held together in prayer, his legs extremely active almost in a lunge. Meanwhile, St. Sebastian’s expression is earnest, and he holds his arms dramatically outstretched. These saints are beseeching the holy pair, who respond by looking directly down into St. Sebastian’s eyes.

Francesco Solimena (Italian, 1657–1747), Madonna and Child with St. Januarius and St. Sebastian, ca. 1700. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of Friends of Art M1964.35. Photo credit: Larry Sanders.

Both St. Januarius, the patron saint of Naples, and St. Sebastian, who despite being shot of arrows was nursed back to health, represent divine intermediaries for suffering humans. Their supplication of the Virgin and Child is on behalf of the people of Naples, who were battling the plague in the years around 1700 when this painting was made.

Just imagine: when installed in a church, the viewer would stand in front of and below the painting in order to pray.  The two saints would pass the message to the Virgin and Christ.  The power of the painting is emphasized by the life-size figures. It becomes less an object to look at than an experience to take part in.

When thinking about the experiential aspect of our Solimena painting, it is much easier to understand how its emotional and spiritual power could help to counteract the pain and stress caused by the plague that ravaged Europe for hundreds of years.  If you’d like to learn more about this subject, its historical context was explored in a 2005 exhibition at the Worcester Art Museum, which included Madonna and Child with St. Januarius and St. Sebastian.

With the holidays upon us, evidence of the value of tradition is all around us.  The end of another year encourages us to take a look at the past in order to understand the present–and give us hope for future.

Best wishes for the season!

When our collection galleries reopen in 2015, you might see the Milwaukee Art Museum’s painting by Francesco Solimena. In the meantime, you can see an example of Solimena’s work in the feature exhibition Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting from Glasgow Museums, on view at the Milwaukee Art Museum through January 4, 2015.

Jonathan, Jen, and Nhyji consider a painting in Of Heaven and Earth. Photo by Chelsea Emelie Kelly

We as a group were fortunate enough to have an expertly curated exhibition coincide with the beginning of our program, Of Heaven and Earth: 500 Years of Italian Painting. Many of our activities, discussions, and ideas were centered on the works featured in this impressive exhibition. We spent hours analyzing and evaluating the works of Salvator Rosa, Botticelli, and Titian, to name only a few.

Satellite students spent an hour discussing Salvator Rosa’s landscapes. Photo by Chelsea Emelie Kelly.

After becoming familiar with the back stories of several works and the art historical context in which they were conceived, the teens were tasked with leading guided tours for small groups of grade school children from Milwaukee Public Schools (MPS). The teen interns were thrilled with the opportunity, and took on leadership roles with ease. They demonstrated their new-found knowledge of Italian painting and art criticism in a way that was exciting for young kids from Milwaukee who might otherwise never have had an opportunity to come to the Museum. It was entertaining to watch the teens as they navigated the exhibition with their little ones trailing not far behind, who were naturally curious and captivated by centuries-old paintings.

One of the questions we addressed frequently throughout the program was “how can we make the MAM and its collection relevant to our lives?” It occurred to me while watching these tours that the teens of the Satellite program were doing just that: finding connections that exist between the remote past and modern urban life, and sparking children’s interest in fine art—an interest that I’m confident will grow stronger and flourish with time thanks to the teens’ hard work.

Zakia and Daiveon work with Dwight and Marquis Gilbert from H2O Music Milwaukee to create hip-hop music inspired by Salvator Rosa. Photo by Chelsea Emelie Kelly

An additional goal of the Satellite program was to familiarize the teens with the inner workings of art museums. We met various designers, curators, and administrators involved in the Museum, and learned about their experiences and contributions. Some of the individuals whom we had the opportunity to speak with were Dena Nord and Nate Pyper, both of whom are graphic designers, and Dan Keegan, the director. In many respects, I was learning along with the students as we discovered the complex ways that museums function, and heard from the dynamic team of designers, educators, curators, registrars, and others that make the MAM a haven for inspiration, learning, and community.

Nhyji and Alex work with an MPS elementary school student in Of Heaven and Earth. Photo by Chelsea Emelie Kelly

As a conclusion to the program, the teens have created multimedia projects, videos, and traditional artwork that all address the program’s framing questions of “How can we make works of art and the museum relevant to our lives?” and “What does it mean for the Museum to be an icon for the city, inside and out?” As a soon to be student teacher on track for teacher certification in Wisconsin, it was exciting for me to collaborate with the teens and discuss ideas with them. Although I have not yet seen any of their finished pieces [ed. note: we’ll share them on the blog in the new year!], I’m looking forward it. After hearing their ideas and seeing their preliminary sketches, I’m anticipating an impressive body of work from an even more impressive body of students—they’ve yet to let me down!

Mike, Nick, and students from MPS elementary schools create a Titian-inspired tableaux vivant–“living painting”! Photo by Chelsea Emelie Kelly

My experience in the teen Satellite program has been a memorable one, to be sure. I had the wonderful opportunity to aid in facilitating an engaging learning experience for a diverse and hardworking group of high school students. Saying goodbye to the Fall 2014 Satellite teen interns will be bittersweet, but I’m hopeful that my involvement with museums is not over, but on the contrary, is just beginning. I’d like to thank the vibrant community of art and museum enthusiasts everywhere, the Museum staff for making the MAM the wonder it is, especially Chelsea Kelly, my enthusiastic and always optimistic supervisor—and last but certainly not least, the teen interns of Satellite. You guys and gals are the greatest. Thanks for your creativity, jokes, intelligent conversation, and of course, cupcakes.

–Bryce Coppersmith, Teen Programs Intern

Melissa chats with her professor, Dr. Jodi Eastberg, at the Alverno Internship Poster Session. Photo by Chelsea Kelly

One of the coolest parts of doing this internship was seeing how the MOOC has progressed. When I started in July, the MOOC consisted of a just few pieces of paper that had the assignments on it. Now, it has a sophisticated website, forums, videos, beta-testers and potential future participants. It is incredible to see what hard work and perseverance can accomplish.

Whenever someone asks where I see myself in five years, I tell them that I hope to be a part of a project that embraces technology and creativity. This project is exactly that; it uses the internet as a resource to help participants become more comfortable with art and museums. Participants can learn a new perspective on of art and open up to new activities.

Melissa and Chelsea at the Alverno Internship Poster Fair. Photo by Jodi Eastberg

Working on the MOOC has also given me a new understanding of art. Before I started working here, I would just look at an artwork, decide if I like it or not (I used to only like the ones that involved fairytales or mythology), and then move on. After participating in the MOOC, I ask myself different questions about each painting. How long would this take to make? Would I want this in my house? Can I relate this to any parts of my own life? Would my grandma want this in her living room? If I don’t like it, what it is about the piece that displeases me?

Listening to others talk about art has influenced me as well. While helping with and viewing the assignment videos, I was able to hear others talk about what they saw in each work of art. Hearing them speak opened my eyes to new perspectives that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

View of the Milwaukee Art Museum. Photo by Melissa Marchese

Thank you to the Milwaukee Art Museum, Chelsea Kelly, and Janet Gourley for opening so many doors to me. This internship was crucial to my future. I do not know how I will ever repay them for all that they gave me.

–Melissa Marchese, Digital Learning Intern

The Satellite High School Program interns, Fall 2014. Photo by Front Room Photography

The first group of students created final projects inspired by their interviews with Museum visitors.

Jenn’s final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Jenn speaks about her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“I love how everywhere you go in Milwaukee, the Museum is shown in some way… Overall in the Museum, I have always felt connected to the paintings by the way they make me feel. For my final project, I decided to go around interviewing people and asking them our Framing Questions: How can we make works of art and the museum relevant to our lives? What does it mean for the Museum to be an icon for the city– inside and out? I decided to make a Tumblr to post what the people I interviewed answered.”

* * *

Detail of Nichole’s final project design.

Nichole gave Dan Keegan, Milwaukee Art Museum Director, a T-shirt with her design on it as part of her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“I asked our framing questions to several guests at the Museum and recorded their answers. Their answers had a lot of similarities, so I creatively put the more significant and most frequently used answers into a word cloud, and since I love fashion I placed it on a t-shirt. Not only did I answer the questions but I got to express myself by doing what I love to do in a fashionable way.”

* * *

Kayla shares her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Kayla

“When I started this project, I wanted to get out of my comfort zone and try something new. Talking to people I don’t know is extremely hard for me. I wanted to get people involved and know what they had to say about the museum. I created a PowerPoint highlighting their responses. Some people had good things to say, some people don’t have anything to say, and some people say the smallest amount of things, and it creates a huge impact on what you’re doing. After I started I realized that if I had done anything else I wouldn’t have been as happy because I don’t think I could have answered the questions on my own. I took photos of people to show that everyone’s different and some people have interesting stories that you wouldn’t expect them to have. I asked them what the museum means to them because I want them to reflect on what it mean and if they went there as a child and helped them become more open. Most of the people I talked to said that the museum was the city icon, but I told them I wanted to know more personally about them and how it affect them. These people talked about how the museum was a way to help them be more artistic, more inspired, and a place for creative thoughts. When I think of this museum I’d have to agree: the museum is more than an icon. It helps people overcome things; the museum has personally helped me overcome being scared of opening up to talk to others.”

* * *

Nick shows his final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Nick

“For my piece, I made a text-image of the Milwaukee Art Museum’s silhouette. To begin with I interviewed citizens of Milwaukee about their impressions of the Milwaukee Art Museum, whether good or bad. After taking all of the interviews, I took key terms and phrases, and arranged them according to relevance inside of the silhouette, filling the entire image. After that I rendered the image using a word processing software (Tagxedo), giving the finished product. The result was the Milwaukee Art Museum made out of the impressions of Milwaukee’s citizens. I did this to show what it means to be an icon of the city. It means that whether good or bad, the Museum’s presence is made entirely by the people it represents.”

Stay tuned next week for the next installment of the teens’ projects!

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

A view of the final celebration in progress. Photo by Front Room Photography

The second group of students created non-digital artworks for their final projects.

Luis shares his final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Luis’ final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“For this piece I wanted to visually interpret the answers to the framing questions we had in Satellite throughout the semester–how can we make art relevant, and what does it mean for the Museum to be an icon of the city? In order to answer what it meant for the Museum to be an icon, I had to do some research on the history of the building. Santiago Calatrava was the Spanish architect that added the beautiful Quadracci Pavilion in its full completion in 2001. Milwaukee is one of the few places that people can see the architect’s work. The variant colors and shapes in my piece were done to represent the different ideas and people that the museum itself attracts. While there might be some people who merely know of the museum as this grand and beautiful building, other people flourish in the building – from making a living through working in the Milwaukee Art Museum to simply visiting the galleries often as a source of inspiration.”

* * *

Ana shares her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Ana

“My piece ‘MKE’ represents the many different places that art is involved around Milwaukee. Making this piece made me realize that we are an icon inside and out of Milwaukee. My idea for this project was to show the many places that art is involved in and to show that they can be where ever you go. Even if it is to the store, the park, or even your local café shop. My experience in Satellite program had to be one of the most enjoyable experiences I have had so far. The Satellite program has taught me how to look deeper into pieces of art and how we can relate to them. One of my plans for my future is to go to college and get a degree to become an art director because I would like to get to take a turn on doing a little bit of everyone’s job around the museum.”

* * *

Daiveon answers audience questions. Photo by Front Room Photography

Daiveon’s final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“In my project, I drew two mythical creatures gathering towards the Museum as a metaphor of other nations and artists of the world visiting Milwaukee’s greatest icon. Behind this icon is the negativity that surrounds the city. I’ve chosen to make the Museum a center point of the city because I believe Milwaukee births artists with amazing abilities, philosophies, and knowledge. Due to the negativity that swarms around our neighborhoods, people are less interested in art and leave artists invisible. With that being said the Museum makes itself relevant in our lives by reaching out to teens, showing the different possible careers and experiences at the Museum. The thing I really loved the most about this program is that it connects teens throughout the city to come together and share ideas about art and learn from each other, thus becoming a whole as a community.”

Stay tuned next week for the next installment of the teens’ projects!

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

A view of the final celebration in progress. Photo by Front Room Photography

The third group of students created digital artworks for their final projects.

Alex answers audience questions. Photo by Front Room Photography

Alex’s final project

“For me art is a method to express an idea or an emotion and making it visibly tangible. In my lifetime, I have learned a variety of lessons and seen many places, but sometimes those things are difficult to tell with words. Being able to ‘write’ it with colors and images, to convey the new ideas or feelings that are always flying through my head, is a relief. This work, titled ‘Artistically Insane’, was made for the Satellite Program to convey the answer to our two framing questions: How is the art museum an icon of the city and how does art relate to our lives today? My piece compares the artistic part of Milwaukee (the Museum) and the industrial/business part of Milwaukee (downtown). When we think of Milwaukee we usually think about beer, cheese, industry and business–not art. The upper image demonstrates that the Museum, although it is on the outskirts of Milwaukee, is a central part of the city. The lower two images show that human nature does not change overtime: people behave the same way today that they did 500 years ago. The person standing on the lakeside, holding the frame, represents: ‘this is what we hold as the city of Milwaukee.’ ”

* * *

Mike’s final project

Mike talks about his final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“The main idea for my project was to show someone looking up things about the artworks that are in the background of the image. I have always wanted to create something like this. My piece not only shows artwork that we looked at during the program, but also shows the skills that I have with Adobe Photoshop. It answers our framing question because it is from the perspective of someone who is my age, who likes art a lot, looking up facts about the art and artist so that they can know more about it. This program was a very good experience for me because I don’t really know many people that like art as much as I do. I also got to see how the museum is run and what goes on behind closed doors which I always find interesting. In the future, I would like to get the community more involved with the Museum and with the arts.”

* * *

Sophie shows her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Sophie shares her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“I created a mini advertising series to reflect my responses to the framing questions. When you come to the Museum, you should be able to change yourself a little bit with each visit or learn something new, to bring back to your community. I had three stages for that: first, you empower yourself, then you envision yourself, then connect to yourself and bring it back to your community. The three different posters work together as a cycle.”

Stay tuned next week for the final installment of the teens’ projects!

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

Group hug. Photo by Front Room Photography

The final group of students created works out of many different kinds of media for their final projects.

Nhyji’s final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Nhyji talks about his final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

“My collage of graffiti shows different types of graffiti on the Galleria of the Milwaukee Art Museum. In this environment of the Museum, it shows meaning and artistic value. I also believe that graffiti art is the most interesting out of all other types of art. It seems almost rejected by limited use and neighbors complaining about it being on the outside of the artists’ homes. But I believe it will be able to come back and may even have its own show in a museum or gallery, or a course in school or college. I came to love graffiti ever since I bought it up as a topic in one of our Satellite sessions and will continue to grow at it as an artist myself.”

* * *

Maddie and her final project. Photo by Front Room Photography

Maddie

“I made a cake as my final project. I built the Museum out of rice krispies and fondant and I painted it. I put the words ‘You are here,’ the words they have on maps, on the cake, so that the focal point is where you are. The Museum itself is kind of the focal point of Milwaukee and art in this state, so I wanted to highlight that in my project.”

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Jonathan talks about his final project, an original music video. Photo by Front Room Photography

“In my project, I decided to create a song using some samples of sound I took from the museum. I combined this song with a video of the art works on display at the museum along with some footage of other buildings that are of importance in the area. The reasons I used the footage of artworks was to show how diverse of a museum we are–from sculpture to paintings, we have it all. The footage of the US Bank tower is there to show that no matter how big it is, the Milwaukee Art Museum is still the better known land mark. In the song itself, I used samples of the crowds in the Museum along with the iPad click sounds that we used in the Satellite program. I put these click sounds in a pattern to create a rhythmic beat then I used the crowd sounds as ambient noise for my song. In the intro I recorded people saying “This is” to represent the community here at the museum and put it for the buildup of the song. I am happy to say this is one of the best experiences I have had, along with some of the greatest people I have met from the staff to my peers!”

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Zakia and Meg’s final project, a poem (click image to zoom in). Photo by Front Room Photography

Zakia and Meg read their final project, a poem. Photo by Front Room Photography

“Throughout the year with Satellite I, Zakia, learned many things about how the museum connects to the people in Milwaukee. In turn I see how we all express ourselves by communicating with others and that’s what I like to express through my work. I decided with my partner Meg to create a poem. We both had the same idea of expressing the main two questions through words or song. Just as the last line of the poem states, ‘As the museum is a house and your hearts are the hearth’, the Museum would’’t be here without all of Milwaukee supporting it by coming through its doors.”

Chelsea Emelie Kelly is the Museum’s Manager of Digital Learning. In addition to working on educational technology initiatives like the Kohl’s Art Generation Lab or this very blog, she oversees and teaches teen programs. Say hello on Twitter @MAM_Chelsea.

Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836), designed by Christian Warth (German, active 1854–1892). “1395” Stein, 1885. Stoneware with colored slip and glaze decoration, gilding and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Bequest of Dorothy Trommel in memory of her parents, Eunice and Howard Wertenberg M2013.43. Photo credit: John Glembin.

Over the past year, we’ve taken a look at some of the German drinking vessels in the Milwaukee Art Museum’s collection.  The subjects have ranged from luxurious silver tankards to early stoneware vessels, and from high-quality Meissen porcelain to the prized tin-glazed earthenware that was developed to mimic it.

Now we’ve come to the end of the 19th century, the time of the most dramatic changes for the German drinking vessels.  This was due to a powerful combination of events.

The first was the formation of the German Empire in 1871 under Wilhelm I, King of Prussia.  For the first time, many of the nations that identified with a German culture became part of one nation, and they needed to figure out what that meant.

The second is the onset of the industrial revolution.  Germany experienced major social changes in a relatively short amount of time.  Factories were built and drew huge numbers of people from the country to cities, creating great economic inequality and crowded urban areas.

However, the transition from a mainly agrarian country to an industrialized nation did offer the possibility of economic prosperity.  The rise of a middle class that had more money to spend meant a demand for more goods.  And technological advances also meant that objects such as steins could be produced faster and less expensively.

Although the availability of hard liquor to the working poor was considered by many to be a problem—in the worst case scenario, the factory man drinks the income needed to support his family—the local tavern or club was also a way for men to pass the time pleasantly with others who had the same political beliefs or social background.  This was especially important in cities, where men were thrown into a large group as strangers.  After all, alcohol is a great social lubricant!

Eduard von Grützner (German, 1846–1925). The Card Players, 1883. Oil on canvas. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of René von Schleinitz M1967.67. Photo credit: Larry Sanders.

Although pub owners would supply their customers with steins of glass or pewter, they would also store a customer’s personal steins on a shelf.  Steins became a modest luxury that would show your prosperity and social affiliations.

Although smaller steins were meant to be used, the decorative nature of many steins also made them a collectible to be displayed.  Larger wares would often be given as a special gift or were commissioned as a memento.   You can see some of these decorative vessels in this photograph of a middle class dining room in Berlin from around 1880. These wares are displayed by the up-and-coming in a way that, in earlier centuries, only royalty could afford to do: it’s the middle class version of the “cabinet of curiosities.”

Mettlach and other German decorative arts on top of cabinets in Captain Pabst’s study. Photo courtesy of Pabst Mansion.

Another customer for steins are the immigrants in America who were keen to celebrate their roots.  In Milwaukee, we have a great example at the Pabst Mansion, built in 1890 by a German immigrant, where drinking vessels are proudly on display.  In the historic house, now open as a museum, an assortment of late 19th century wares made in Germany can been seen on the cabinets in Captain Pabst’s study.

Although men were almost exclusively the tavern customer, the development of the beer garden and beer hall meant that beer drinking became an important part of family leisure time.  Drink was a part of German gatherings, whether it was at a social club, a meeting of a professional guild, or a Sunday afternoon at home.

In Milwaukee, Schlitz’s Palm Garden and Pabst’s Park promoted local breweries while offering a space for all people to enjoy.  It is this combination of good-will, drink, and food that leads to the appreciation of Gemütlichkeit–a warm, cheerful space–within German communities.

All of these factors resulted in an increased demand for drinking vessels.  The ability to mass produce them resulted in an explosion in the number of producers to make ceramics and the variety of wares available on the market.

As you might expect, then, the majority of the Milwaukee Art Museum’s drinking vessels were made in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.  The collection includes examples of pottery, stoneware, and porcelain steins from a number of factories, such as C. G. Schierholz & Söhn; Ernst Bohne Söhne; and Hauber & Reuther.  But the vast majority of the holdings in this area were made by the Villeroy & Boch Company.

Villeroy & Boch had factories in a number of locations, but it is the one in Mettlach, in southwestern Germany on the Saar River, that became a gold standard for steins.  (You can see an example at the top of this post.) The high-quality stoneware, called Mettlach after the town, was collectible in its own time.

Marks on the bottom of a Mettlach stein. Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836), designed by Christian Warth (German, active 1854–1892). “1395” Stein, 1885. Stoneware with colored slip and glaze decoration, gilding and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Bequest of Dorothy Trommel in memory of her parents, Eunice and Howard Wertenberg M2013.43. Photo credit: the author.

The factory was housed in a Benedictine Abbey with roots dating back to the middle ages.  The Abbey became a trademark of sorts for the company’s stoneware, and an outline of the Abbey’s medieval chapel was used in the factory’s marks for many years.

Villeroy & Boch kept their process a closely guarded secret, and after company records were destroyed in the 1920’s, the particulars were completely lost.  The fascinating detail and beautiful colors of their wares not only made them a commercial success, but also won them critical acclaim at public exhibitions, including awards at the World’s Fair in Chicago in 1893.

Although best known today for their seemingly unlimited number of stein and pitcher designs, Mettlach stoneware was also available in decorative plaques, vases, and pokals.  Each work was listed in the company catalogues by a number that was also marked on the base; it is these numbers that are used as the title.

Next time we’ll take a closer look at some Mettlach steins—stay tuned!

Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836), designed by Heinrich Schlitt (German, 1849–1923). “2765” Stein, 1902. Stoneware, with colored slip and glaze decoration, and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of the René von Schleinitz Foundation M1962.848. Photo credit: John R. Glembin.

Last time, we looked at the historical context for artwork in late nineteenth century Germany. In 1871, Germany officially became a unified country. This time, we’ll look at the cultural ramifications of the unification and how it impacted art.

Although German-speaking princes had been allied for centuries, the individual provinces needed to strengthen their commitment in order to counter military and economic competition from other countries such as Austria and France. But just because the people in the new country spoke German and shared much in the way of their cultural identity didn’t mean that they felt like a big happy family.  And the disruptive forces of the industrial revolution did nothing to help the sense of confusion and frustration.

The people of the German Empire needed to ask themselves: what does it mean to be German? The imagery on Mettlach steins of the time offers some interesting answers to that question.

Some steins use inspiration from the distant past for their subject matter.  This shows a pride in the traditions of German culture—with roots back to the middle ages—as well as nostalgia for a simpler time.  This past is often called “altdeutschen” or “old Germany”.  When it appears in art, it is called historicism.

For instance, at the beginning of this post is a beautiful stein that shows a medieval knight mounted on a majestic white horse enjoying a tankard of beer.  The romantic notion of the past is echoed in the lid in the shape of a castle turret.

This large-scale pitcher shows successful German hunters in extravagant Renaissance dress—just look at that ermine trim!  The man on this side is toasted by none other than the ancient goddess of the hunt, Diana, who sits on top of a beer barrel.

Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836). “2205” Covered Pitcher, 1897. Stoneware, with colored slip and glaze decoration, gilding, and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of the René von Schleinitz Foundation M1962.666. Photo credit: John R. Glembin.

A noble couple in elegant dress from the 16th century is featured on this pitcher.  The traditions of the past are celebrated by the man who is practicing falconry, using the bird of prey to hunt.

Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836). “1690” Covered Pitcher, 1889. Stoneware, with colored slip and glaze decoration, and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of the René von Schleinitz Foundation M1962.729.

Historicism is not the only way that steins reveal the German exploration of identity.  National symbolism can be seen in this Mettlach stein.  The Imperial Eagle of Germany is front and center.

Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836), design attributed to Otto Hupp (German, 1859–1949). “2075” Stein, 1900. Stoneware, with colored slip and glaze decoration, gilding, and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of the René von Schleinitz Foundation M1962.567. Photo credit: John R. Glembin.

There is further pride in German modernity: This stein celebrates two very important technological developments that Germany embraced: the telegraph and the railroad.  The eagle holds telegraph poles with his claws—you can see the glass insulators at the top of the poles with the lines strung between them.  On the eagle’s shield is the winged wheel that represents the German railroad.

The stein would have been marketed as an “occupation” stein for a man working for the railroad–a way to show pride in your job and your country.

Villeroy & Boch (Mettlach, Saarland, Germany, established 1836), design attributed to Otto Hupp (German, 1859–1949). “2075” Stein, 1900. Stoneware, with colored slip and glaze decoration, gilding, and pewter. Milwaukee Art Museum, Gift of the René von Schleinitz Foundation M1962.567. Photo credit: John R. Glembin.

On the lid is a ceramic inlay that shows a train engine hard at work with the motto “Nur immer einen gutne Zug!”.  This is a pun.  In this context, it means “always a good draught,” but zug in German also means train, so it refers to both the beer and the railroad.  Appropriately enough, the train is hauling a giant stein!

With the fun and camaraderie that comes with drinking, it is not a surprise that decorations on steins are often meant to get a laugh (remember our Meissen Bacchus tankard!).  Next time, we’ll look at more examples of Mettlach with humorous imagery.