It is inconceivable that one’s mind should simply wonder to the ticket booth at the Tate Modern and ask for the price of admission of the latest Rothko or Hirst exhibition. Descartes would have had some strong words about this notion – it’s a bit complicated to leave behind your physical self when the two are intrinsically intertwined.
Yet we are experiencing a moment in the practice of curation where the delivery of artistic material to the minds of many may no longer depend on a physical presence of the consumer. The closure of both private and public institutions, museums and galleries in the wake of the (ongoing, wear your f*cking mask!) pandemic has left many in the art world scratching their brains as to how the consumption of art can continue behind closed doors. Luckily the digital age we live in has managed to find a temporary fix to satisfy the needs of people interested in art.

Cindy Sherman (1954-), prolific “Pictures Generation” American artist focusing mostly on photography, is on show at the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris. Or rather, she should have been, and I should have been to see it. A collection of her works from 1975 onwards, including the notable Untitled Film Stills and Sex Photos, this exhibition was meant to show a critique of established conceptions of identity, femininity in the fashion and cinema industries. It is now available in an online tour, hosted by the curators of the Louis Vuitton Foundation.

It opens many questions on the nature of experiencing artwork. The phrase “this art speaks to me” is not just a hipster catchphrase but a reflection of the social bond being formed between the art and the viewer through a moment of uncertainty. Abductive reasoning – Gell (1998)’s theory argued that art could “create” its own meaning and a rapport with a viewer upon being observed. If this is the case then it fundamentally demands the presence of a physical person to complete this two-way social interaction from which meaning can be determined. I wonder to what extent the lack of a physical mediator takes away from Gell’s process, therefore devaluing the artwork and not allowing it to entrance its viewer in the same natural way that Gell would have us see it. Certainly, this reality allows for the access to and ability to accumulate cultural capital that Bourdieu would see as crucial for the cultural differentiation of the non-distinctive human body (Keat, 1986). In a public health scenario this is ideal.
It is fitting that Cindy Sherman’s work is almost entirely focused on criticising the roles of the body in society, with particular note to the role of the female body taking positions of power in the cinema industry. Untitled Film Stills (1977) projects Sherman, a woman, into traditionally roles of producer, director, photographer as well as model and actress. Her work transgresses established norms in this industry, and through single frames she is able to tell a whole story that throws down challenges to these norms.

The virtual environment gives the curators absolute power over the viewing experience of Sherman’s work. A blessing and a curse as it would seem to interfere with Gell’s process, yet through proper delivery the body of work can be exhibited with flair and style whilst staying true to the motivations of the artist – and through this proper delivery, much to the credit of the curators of the FLV, their chronological curation of Sherman’s work could potentially lend itself to a Gell-like process that distills the intended meaning in a viewer in a natural way, perhaps even sidestepping the evident barrier that is a computer or phone screen.
Sex Photos removes Sherman from the work almost entirely. Just as we, the viewer, are removed from the gallery the artist is removed from the work in favour of mannequins in grotesque situations. The criticism of the highly-sexualised female form in contemporary mass media is evident, and in some frames Sherman can be glimpsed as a reflection in an object in a Baudrillard-esque simulacrum, or Platonic shadow or what is a true human being and by extension, a woman.

Gell’s dialogue between art and viewer is in this series being held between a representation of Sherman and a digital interface of the viewer – the relationship between human and art has been reduced to a completely abstract and intangible one in these times. Further dehumanisation of the human form through the Clown Series serves only to remind us, the viewer, that the times of pandemic have been complicit in the depriving of basic artistic interactions that illustrate the blank cultural canvases of our bodies (Bourdieu, 1985).

This is not to say that online renditions of exhibitions like Cindy Sherman à la Fondation are “good” or “better” – these words are not part of the discussion. This examination of the online dimension to artistic media reveals the subtleties of how humans interact with art and culture, and how times of extreme circumstances have forced a re-thinking of these interactions. The very meaning of art is fundamentally linked to the experience of being in front of it, with one’s own two eyes. But perhaps in the future the experience learnt from the pandemic and through efforts like The Fondation Louis Vuitton will reveal a new dimension for the consumption of a different form of art.



