American Folk Art Museum
Wanting to catch more of AFAM’s offerings, I dashed off into
Manhattan by bus. I peered through
locked doors at West 53rd Street.
The walls were empty and only one or two people milled inside. Worse, the gift shop was gone…….
So I went into the MOMA instead (but more on that later). When I got back home, I “googled” to find what had happened to that wonderful treasury of folk art and quilts. The sad story of lofty ambitions, lack of finances and poor attendance records (comparatively to outgoing expenses), amongst other things, came to light. The architect’s design came in for a hammering and a promised gift never realised was revealed. Worse still, the AFAM itself was under threat of closure and its collection to be dispersed.
Gaaaaaassssp!!!!
I must say that I quite liked the AFAM’s former spaces. It seemed cosy and I felt close to all the
pieces exhibited. Somehow, I think that
quilts made for smaller spaces like homes, don’t always look their best when displayed
in warehouse surrounds. Despite its
size, the Met also works for me in the same way. Its
huge areas contain rooms which may contain even more rooms. So, there’s something distinctly Alice about both
venues.
The exhibition I saw last year at the AFAM didn’t look to be barely contained by the space – it fitted in well and there was a good representation of quilts; enough to give me an idea of the history of quiltmaking in the US. Not everyone who comes in to see the exhibition is a quilt historian with a master’s degree. The staging was simple and effectively communicated its message in the same way that each quilt tells us a story about their maker.
The other exhibition at the time was an intimate portrait of
a man who made art because he was driven to it.
I’ve mentioned Henry Darger (1892-1973) previously. His work, and its meaning, would have been
totally lost on four walls of a larger gallery space. The intimacy of the AFAM in some way
sharpened my understanding of how and why he worked the way he did.
What I did find on my internet search however, was that AFAM,
in its transition, had secured gallery space on 66th & Broadway. Something made me want to get on that bus and
visit.
Now, before you get too excited, this space was rather like
entering a small underground mausoleum.
The door was difficult to open and the quilts were hung in a way that
shouted, “This is the best we can do under current circumstances!!”. The guards and shop staff were friendly but
it all seemed to hang on an air of despondency.
Decisions had not been made about the Museums continuation, serious
funds and sponsors were needed and acquisitions were under threat of being
re-homed.
As I left the gallery though, I noticed a quilt dedicated to those lost in the 9/11 (2001) disaster, The National Tribute Quilt. I had been too busy looking at the gift shop to see it as I came in – all 8 x 30 feet of it! Do you believe in fate? Well I certainly do! There in the corner was the name of a friend. I took several photos and emailed them off to my workmates. I learned that a 10 year memorial service was being organised by her family in Sydney.
(A later note: I understand the AFAM is in a better place now and its permanence assured. Well done to the rescuers and all those who fretted – enough to care - for its safety.)
