Constructive/Construction

Henri Loyrette, the director of the Louvre, has recently felt the heat of his French public, notorious for taking to the streets of Paris to demand changes—such as with political issues—but apparently will have nothing of the sort for their poster-child museum.  In spite of the Louvre’s dramatically increased attendance rate (67%) and boosted endowments since Loyrette’s arrival, the French berate the director for being a government crony as well as for “diluting the Louvre brand at best and cheapening it at worst” with his international wheeling and dealing, which many French feel rings of American behavior.  They are unhappy with his attempts to create a satellite in Lens (France) as well as deals he has struck with other institutions, such as in Abu Dhabi and Atlanta.  Even art historians feel scandalized by what they describe as Loyrette’s “commercial and promotional use of masterpieces of our national heritage.”

First, I was taken aback by the scarcity of American paintings (only three!) in the Louvre! Okay, I am fibbing: I found the paucity more revealing than shocking, since France and the US have plunged into a noticeably frosty relationship in the last few decades.  The Louvre’s collection, seemingly a reflection of the political (maybe even cultural) chasm between the two nations, demonstrates the museum’s knack for simultaneously revealing both contextual and historical conditions.  Further, I give kudos to Loyrette for challenging the nearly moribund state of the Louvre vis-à-vis contemporary artists and prodding the institution to be “more modern.” The notion of “selling-out” to institutions aside, exhibiting in the Louvre offers living artists unimaginable prospects and, let us be honest, swagger, and one cannot blame the director for hoping to lure visitors past showstoppers like Winged Victory (the included picture of the statue shows my personal encounter with this seemingly magnetic force that draws copious crowds).

Also, I am curious as to their distaste for the employment of art for “commercial” and “promotional” purposes. How exactly have the French used their art in the past, if not to advertise French nationality and refinement or to promote French culture and cultivation?  What is the relationship between nations and their art, and does art serve a utilitarian purpose?  If so, exactly how is this different from the late-twentieth, early twenty-first century trend of “branding” museums and employing business tactics?  Let me preface the following discourse with this: I straddle the fence on the issue of museums conducting themselves as businesses; therefore, I appreciate the logic in arguments from both camps. That being said, my challenge to Loyrette’s critics as well as those who wag their fingers at curators or directors is to develop other methods and practices, which they deem acceptable, that augment museums.  Continually hearing bombardments and chastisements becomes frustrating when alternatives are never (or from what I have read thus far) proffered.  Sensibly, if a better, less controversial idea was submitted to museum professionals, then they would undoubtedly employ the idea in a heartbeat to cease the recurring arguments against the operational judgments of their institutions.  This is not to say I support all of Loyrette’s decisions concerning the Louvre, since I quite frankly do not know them all; instead, I suppose this is my campaign for constructive criticism.