"Shine-A-Light" Museum Article

Light Through the Walls:

This Student’s Night at the Museum

By, Jacqueline Adams

    I heard tales of booze, food, tattoo artists and socially engaged art. My professor had told me about “Shine-A-Light” with a proprietorial gleam in her eye suggesting great excitement and accomplishment. I started to get excited by the “party” atmosphere inferred and I couldn’t wait to go. The event was from 10:00am to midnight for one night only. I arrived at the Portland Art Museum about 6:00pm, Friday Oct.14th and was slightly confused. The building looked as it always did, and I could find no signage trumpeting the event. I absently wondered if I had missed it or come on an incorrect night. I entered the building and paid for my ticket and received my hand stamp. There were several people loitering about but I was very unclear as to how to proceed. I started up the stairs to the second floor, the Overlook Gallery, hoping there would be signs or lines to help me determine my next move. A section of the floor had been blacked out and many people had decided to dress in the likeness of their favorite portraits. The peaceful calm and ethereal beauty enveloped me, as it always does at PAM. I was delighted and encouraged to see many students admiring art works long posted in these rooms. So many times I had wandered throughout the halls alone, in quiet mid-week mid-afternoons, wondering why the place always felt so deserted, and wondering if the youth of today simply did not have any interest in the painstakingly immaculate art of ghosts from centuries ago.

    I ambled my way into the next room to admire the shining silver collection and feel rich for a minute when I suddenly heard an orchestra sound from the area I had just left. I hurried back to find a youth ballet troupe assembling on the blacked out square of the foyer… so that’s what it was for. Young men and women looking anywhere between 16 and 20 moved expertly within the tiny space.

    Now, I don’t like ballet. I’ve never liked ballet. I’ve tried to watch The Nutcracker twice, and fell asleep both times. I don’t get it, I don’t like it, and I’ve never understood what’s so great about it…Until now. Maybe it was just the close proximity to the dancers, but suddenly I was riveted. Every muscle, every expression, every perfect move right there in front of you, on your level. The dancers worked through a series of quick scenes and I watched with amusement as the dancers faced the Prima, some with thoughts of their next cue on their faces, and some with the none-too-subtle hopes for the quick and unpleasant defeat of the Prima’s perfection. But their hopes were disappointed. The Prima executed her dance with exquisite ease and professionalism, her expression never moving out of character even in the face of obvious physical exertion. It was beautiful. Who knew.

    My favorite part, though, was a young girl of about 2 or 3 years of age watching the lovely dancers in their flowing nymph gowns, pointing and gazing with an awe and wonder reminiscent of my own inexperienced youth that I will always remember.

    I left the dancers and made my way to the Jubitz Center. Small “Shine-A-Light” signs were displayed with titles and times to tell you what you’ve missed and what’s next. I reached the basement floor and a very professional photo/recording booth. The signs said “Objects have stories, tell us your story about an object.” I looked on the nearby wall and saw pictures of the many happy faces of many different visitors, some with their object, and some without, with a brief statement about the object’s use and value to that particular person. The exhibit brought to the surface how much value we transfer into our material things, like a piece of us or someone we love has been reborn into a token, a totem. It was moving to be made conscious of something we take for granted, a realization of the power we hold to create. I also witnessed professional photographers making viewers part of the art in the piece “Museum Visitor” by Molly Sherman. The nearest guard mentioned that the sculpture used, Duane Hanson’s “The Dishwasher”, was rumored to be wearing the true forms old clothes and some thought he was the real man himself… ew… I can see it though; it took me a while to convince myself the man was not real.

    I highly recommend the painting “Greed”, by Sue Coe. I stood and was shaken to my core in the presence of that work. I then walked ten feet and was greeted with a live stand-up comedy routine. Although very funny, we were encouraged to not treat the space like a museum and allow ourselves to relax and laugh out loud, but a vulture of a museum guard was not thrilled with this suggestion, and spent his time scowling and circling, pulling people away from non-art walls stating they could not be touched…even without anything on them… weird, annoying, and difficult to reconcile. Overall, I know the goal was to break down gallery walls and involve the audience within the art itself. However, the institution insisted on rearing it's ugly head and raining on our parade, but I still feel many walls were broken in spite of them.

    I reached the end and another, rear entrance to the museum with people being admitted into an atmosphere of hip-hop music and coat checks… I guess that’s where I was supposed to enter. Oops.

    Still, the sights of bright colors, multi-media, performance, and art spanning all ages and dimensions gave me a very surreal buzz that I enjoyed immensely.           

    Even though I never did find the alcohol.