TX Museum Collections: The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth

Just as each town develops a distinctive character through its geography, population, and activities, each museum also builds a unique reputation. The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth has finessed a particularly alluring persona in the art museum realm.

Just as each town develops a distinctive character through its geography, population, and activities, each museum also builds a unique reputation. The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth has finessed a particularly alluring persona in the art museum realm. Visiting the Modern is like gliding into a fresh oasis. With graceful ease, the Modern transforms the ubiquitous—and inherently standoffish—“white cube” of Modernism into an activated forum for aesthetic contemplation and engagement. Through its architecture, collection, and programming, the museum offers a cohesive physical and intellectual environment that invites a fortified viewing experience. British artist Hamish Fulton, whose art walks are represented in the Modern’s holdings, develops the idea of art as essentially experience: something which can be recorded in a public setting, but only truly known through individual experience. Likewise, the Modern goes beyond basic curatorial responsibilities of documentation and encourages personal engagements with its artworks.

Since as early as 1892, the Modern has contributed to the cultural life of Fort Worth. A devoted crew of women volunteers sustained the infantile Modern, first known as the Fort Worth Public Library and Art Gallery. The Modern’s roots, then, predate “Modernism” as we know it today. The first acquisition was George Inness’s Approaching Storm (1875), an unlikely predecessor to the Gerhard Richter’s and Richard Serra’s that currently distinguish the Modern’s walls and floors.

It has been nearly three years since the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth shed its previous skin (currently the housing of the Fort Worth Community Arts Center) and donned the raiment of Tadao Ando’s internationally renowned architecture. During these first few years in the new locale, visitors have been attracted to the Modern’s lofty ceilings, bountiful natural light, and consistent architectural proportions — not to mention the artworks housed within (and even a few without) the Modern’s walls. In fact, a viewer could even — as I have often done — visit the museum for the sole purpose of enjoying the building as an artwork in its own right.

Richard Serra’s Vortex, a grandiose Minimalist beacon, stands at post, flanking the Modern and soaring above the roofline. This interactive sculpture’s inviting echoes and reverberations have attracted many a singer, stomper, whistler, and yes, even a few matrimonial vow takers. The engaging nature of this monumental work establishes the timbre for the rest of the museum visit. Just as Vortex provokes viewer-artwork interaction, Ando’s architecture places the individual at the center of the art-viewing experience. The physical, architectural features of the Modern are conducive to lengthy, meditative visits with the museum’s collection. Abundant light (from the five windowed-bays and sky-lit strips of ceiling), water (buffering the museum’s backside with a shallow, tranquil pond), and air (courtesy of the forty-foot-tall ceilings) create a peaceful yet stimulating atmosphere. Conducting dialogue between interior and exterior spaces, Ando seemingly dissolves the traditionally rigid delineations of steel and concrete. The placid pool reflects the building, while the glassed pavilions provide visual portals to the natural landscape. This volley between natural and manmade elements sets up a dynamic tension. Through our contact with this physical environment, we intellectually and emotively approach the Modern’s collection.

Although the Modern has changed location and name several times since its inception over a hundred years ago, it has maintained a consistent vision. From the beginning, the Modern has collected the works of both emerging and established contemporary artists, and, proceeding into the twentieth-century, works of artists who have influenced the development of Modern art. Abstract Expressionist painting has been an area of particular pride, especially with the Modern’s exceptional holdings of Robert Motherwell works, which the museum showcased recently in the retrospective, Robert Motherwell from the Collection: 1941-1990: Spirit of the Brush. In recent years, the Modern has pursued more photography, video, and digital works, responding to developments in contemporary art. The main floor is organized stylistically, beginning with Abstract Expressionism and Color Field paintings, flirting with Pop Art, and then proceeding to Minimalism and Post Minimalism.

Side galleries offer varied routes through the museum, allowing for chance encounters with less-viewed artworks. Of late, the second floor has been assigned alternately to feature exhibitions and more contemporary and postmodern work (perhaps the museum should rightfully be called the Modern and Postmodern Art Museum). The Modern’s visiting exhibitions supplement its already impressive permanent collection. Oftentimes, these focus shows instigate or contribute to an international art historical dialogue, as does the next major exhibition, Anselm Kiefer: Heaven and Earth. This upcoming feature promises to reveal new insights on the acclaimed post-war German artist.

In general, a museum delights over its permanent collection as a mother dotes over her child. One way of keeping viewers informed and appreciative of artworks at hand is to inundate visitors with wall text. Every museum has its own peculiar answer to the questions: What kind of information should be included? How much should be included? What voice should be used when writing? My heart always plummets when I watch visitors saunter up to a text panel, read it, and move on to the next group of words, perhaps glancing only briefly at the artwork in the process. Wall text can have the unhappy side effect of drowning out the voice of the artwork itself. I savor the Modern’s deliciously minimal use of didactic materials in the galleries. Without the distraction of wordy walls, the artworks themselves direct the viewing experience, rather than any series of long-winded curatorial statements. This creates a sense of a one-on-one encounter between the visitor and the works, placing emphasis on firsthand observation of the art object.

The Modern further perpetuates viewer interaction and promotes the authority of the artwork (and, by association, the artist) through its educational programming. One of the great benefits of collecting contemporary artworks is that many of the artists are still living and available for commentary. Through the Education Department’s dedicated labors in the Tuesday Evenings at the Modern series, museum visitors have been able to hear directly the reflections of some of the pillars of Modern art, including Carl Andre, Lynda Benglis, and Vito Acconci. The lecture series also invites more recent additions to the ever-stimulating art scene: the Art Guys, Eric Swenson, and Celia Eberle, to name a few. This ongoing event opens up a lively forum for artists to converse candidly with art viewers. In the galleries, the museum again incorporates the artist in the art viewing experience by inviting local artists to host weekly drawing sessions. These programs encourage more personal encounters between the museum visitor and the artist and artworks.

The architecture, collection, and programming of the Modern distinguish it among museums. Combined, these aspects foster a heightened viewing experience. Art viewing, after all, is not a passive pastime, but a dynamic activity. The last hundred years for the Modern have been capped on one side by George Inness’s oil on canvas, Approaching Storm, and on the other side by Tony Feher’s glass-bottle installation, Just So (2002). During this time, the museum has expanded its significance from a regional to international level. What, you might ask, lies in store for the next century? We’ll just have to continue visiting the Modern to find out.

Photographs by David Woo, Tom Jenkins, and provided by courtesy of Tadao Ando Architect & Associates.

Images courtesy The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth.

Catherine Deitchman is a writer living in Dallas.