Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/660802
COLLECTION SOLOMON R. GUGGENHEIM MUSEUM, NEW YORK. © 2015 FRANK STELLA / ARS, NEW YORK. AUPING Clockwise from above: Frank Stella's Harran II, 1967. Frank Stella's Gobba, zoppa e collotorto, 1985. The Modern's Michael Auping. Frank Stella's Eskimo Curlew, 1976. "FRANK STELLA: A RETROSPECTIVE," APRIL 17 THROUGH SEPTEMBER 18, 2016, AT THE MODERN ART MUSEUM OF FORT WORTH, THEMODERN.ORG. The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth's unerring chief curator, Michael Auping, has organized exhibitions for some of the titans of our time: Gorky, Baselitz, Guston, Serra, Agnes Martin, Anselm Kiefer and, in 2012, British artist Lucian Freud's much-talked-about show of portraits that unflinchingly revealed his very physical tussle with pigment upon canvas. During his four decades in the museum biz, Auping has also co-curated a Whitney Biennial (2000) and organized Jenny Holzer's U.S. Pavilion for the Venice Biennale (1990). At the helm of his current post since 1993, he has weighed in on the design of one of the most serene and successful modernist museum buildings of the 21st century, Tadao Ando's tour de force: The Modern, unveiled in 2002. On the eve of The Modern's opening of his critically acclaimed retrospective for the mythic Frank Stella — a chameleon of an artist who went from pin-striped minimalism to the grand baroque in a half-century, a blockbuster organized for the Whitney Museum of American Art — there's never been a better moment to be Auping. Arts writer Patricia Mora delves into what makes the most important contemporary curator in Texas tick. Edited by Catherine D. Anspon. Portrait Dustin Van Orne. TAKE US TO THE BEGINNING. I first started getting involved with art the last year of high school, first year of college — when most people tell you it's time to find a major, find out who you are, what you want to do, what you want to be. I wasn't quite ready to focus. The people I found most interesting to talk to were all in the art department, and you could go [there] and talk about anything. You didn't have to focus … Politics came into it, because this was in the late '60s. I just found that all of my friends were artists — not art historians, but artists … I spent a fair amount of time in their studios when they were making things. This is Southern California. I went to Cal State Fullerton, Long Beach State University and, briefly, UCLA. INCLINATIONS TOWARD MAKING ART YOURSELF? A couple of instructors said that I should be an art major, so for a brief period I was an art major. Then I took a painting and drawing class, and then I took some three-dimensional design classes, and what I discovered was I'm horrible with my hands. Horrible. My father couldn't screw in a light bulb without cussing, and I must have inherited that from him. I didn't really know about conceptual art then, so I didn't realize you could have an idea and have someone else make it for you. I thought you had to make it. And, actually, to this day I think it's important that artists make things, because if they don't, there's something of them missing in the object. PRE-COLUMBIAN POTS TO SERRA AND STELLA. I realized I couldn't be an artist, but I really wanted to hang around with artists. I started taking art history classes. I took a circuitous route into contemporary art. My degrees are not in modern art or in contemporary art; my degree is in ancient Mexican architecture. I went to Mexico, and as fascinated as I was by the architecture and the art of these people, they were all dead. I was spending a lot of time in the library, and I'm not that much of a library person — and you have to be, in a certain extent, to be an art historian. I really like being in studios with artists, so I got a little bored with making up what I thought this particular pot meant, or what I though this particular jewelry meant, or this architectural thing. I started gravitating more towards writing about contemporary artists and eventually got a job at a museum. They didn't ask me if I had a degree in modern art. They just asked me if I had a master's degree, and I said, "Yeah, I do." THREAD THAT RUNS THROUGHOUT. If somebody were looking at the exhibitions that I have curated, they would not be able to find a thread. Because I've done everything from the figurative works of Lucian Freud to the abstract paintings of Barnett Newman, the sort of history paintings of Anselm Kiefer … But if there is one thing that attracts me to art, and that I think makes the best art, is that it's visceral. I don't just see it, and I don't just think about, but it actually affects what I feel about my body. When I'm in the presence of really great art, it's partly a body experience and a mind experience. That goes back to what I was saying: Artists who just call in their art to a fabricator, who have never made something, there's something missing in the art. And the something that's missing is the visceral. Thinking isn't enough; feeling has to be a part of it. And feeling is very abstract, unless you relate it to the body. HIGH POINT. I have done so many shows over my 40-year career, it's really hard to pick. I'm a pretty old guy now, so there are a lot of things I've probably forgotten. Early in my career, I was able to work with Richard Serra when he was just becoming known. Being a part of his becoming one of the great artists of the 20th century was really cool. Now, I've never done a big Richard Serra show. I've done a small Richard Serra show. And I've written about Richard's work. And I've known Richard. Of course, I commissioned Richard to do this great piece we have in front of The Modern, entitled Vortex; it's dedicated to him, and I'm very proud of that. YOU AND THE OLD MASTERS. The other thing is to work with artists that have had careers even longer than your own, like Lucian Freud and Frank Stella. Now, Lucian was in his mid-80s; Frank is almost 80. And I worked with Agnes Martin when she was in her mid-80s. What I like about these artists is that they know more than me. That's exciting — to be around people that have seen more than you've seen and have done more than you've done. Lucian Freud was a great thing, and the recent Stella show reminds me a lot of my experience with Freud. These guys have seen it all. That's very special. ON TADAO ANDO AND THE MODERN. One of the great artists I've had the opportunity to work with and to interview myself is Tadao Ando, who built this building. Tadao Ando did not have a formal education. He's essentially self-taught, and he was a semi-professional boxer. Now, this semi-professional boxer, self-taught architect has won the Pritzker Prize. He was the chair of the architecture department at the University of Tokyo, arguably one of the hardest universities in the world to get into, and he's self- taught. How did he do that? He went to see buildings and then he made models with his hands of buildings that he saw, to try to figure out what he liked about the way they looked and felt. ON DISTILLING STELLA INTO A SINGLE BUILDING. This is an artist who has had a 60-year career. His first shows were in 1957 and 1958. How do you present that to someone? Someone's life work over that long of a period of time in a set of objects — and many of these objects are very large — set out as real estate in a museum. The only way you do that is to really immerse yourself in learning what the vocabulary of that artist is and distilling it into something that you can actually fit into a museum. It's a problem of ideas and real estate: How many ideas can you give within a given real estate? ON HOW TO "SEE" STELLA. Because his career has been so long, four generations have entered his work at different places. They're all invested in what they like or don't like, depending on where they entered his work. My generation is completely invested in his early black paintings, copper and aluminum paintings. They are the Holy Grail of minimalism. But, you know, Frank is far more than that. What is fascinating is that this show, I'm very happy to say, has gotten rave reviews. There hasn't been a magazine I've read that has been critical of Stella and his show. A lot of it has to do with the voice of younger people and seeing Stella and realizing they don't have to be invested in a certain body of work. It's about someone who hammers and struggles with his work throughout six decades. Now, that's inspiring. What I think viewers take away from the show is the struggle Stella has had trying to extend the history of abstraction … "MY GENERATION IS COMPLETELY INVESTED IN HIS EARLY BLACK PAINTINGS, COPPER AND ALUMINUM PAINTINGS. THEY'RE THE HOLY GRAIL OF MINIMALISM. BUT, YOU KNOW, FRANK [STELLA] IS FAR MORE THAN THAT." The curatorial conversation continues at papercitymag.com. COLLECTION PORTLAND ART MUSEUM, OREGON. © 2015 FRANK STELLA / ARS, NEW YORK. COURTESY THE MODERN ART MUSEUM OF FORT WORTH COLLECTION THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO. © 2015 FRANK STELLA / ARS, NYC.