![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
What's in a frame?
Jun. 14th, 2013 03:04 pmWhen you look at pictures in an art gallery, how much attention do you pay to the frames they are in?
When I've particularly noticed frames at a gallery, it's usually been because I considered them to be overly ornate - too much gold paint or elaborate moulding - to the point that they distract and detract from the paintings and drawings that they frame. But perhaps that's just my modern sensibilities? After all, it seems to me a lot of modern works of art don't have any frame at all - I can't quite picture "Voice of Fire" in a frame, for example, although admittedly I didn't go back and look at it before writing this blog entry.
If I thought about it at all, I assumed that galleries pretty much used the frame they acquired the picture in, or if it didn't come in any sort of suitable frame, went and got a stock frame of some sort out of their storage rooms that would match the other picture frames in the room where the picture was to be displayed.
However, I certainly re-examined that assumption when I received a National Gallery members' letter asking me to consider making a donation, as a "patron of the arts" (what value flattery?) towards the purchase of an 18th century period frame for Benjamin West's famous painting, "The Death of General Wolfe". According to the letter, such period frames are works of art in themselves, handcrafted by skilled designers and craftspeople "attuned to the demanding expectations of the artists and patrons of the day ... [to provide] a window to view and celebrate the work as it was intended." Wow. Unfortunately, there was no mention of how much money they need to raise in order to buy or bid on such a frame, an omission which makes it more difficult for me to decide how much I would like to donate, if indeed I make a donation at all.
I guess it's the same principle as "You can't judge a book by its cover": if a great book has a bad cover, or one that doesn't reflect the type or tone of the book's contents, you're likely to dismiss the book out of hand. Still, I've changed my thinking somewhat about picture frames. Previously, I thought they should in most cases be as unobtrusive as possible; now I can see how in some circumstances at least, they can be part of the integrity or totality of the work of art.
When I've particularly noticed frames at a gallery, it's usually been because I considered them to be overly ornate - too much gold paint or elaborate moulding - to the point that they distract and detract from the paintings and drawings that they frame. But perhaps that's just my modern sensibilities? After all, it seems to me a lot of modern works of art don't have any frame at all - I can't quite picture "Voice of Fire" in a frame, for example, although admittedly I didn't go back and look at it before writing this blog entry.
If I thought about it at all, I assumed that galleries pretty much used the frame they acquired the picture in, or if it didn't come in any sort of suitable frame, went and got a stock frame of some sort out of their storage rooms that would match the other picture frames in the room where the picture was to be displayed.
However, I certainly re-examined that assumption when I received a National Gallery members' letter asking me to consider making a donation, as a "patron of the arts" (what value flattery?) towards the purchase of an 18th century period frame for Benjamin West's famous painting, "The Death of General Wolfe". According to the letter, such period frames are works of art in themselves, handcrafted by skilled designers and craftspeople "attuned to the demanding expectations of the artists and patrons of the day ... [to provide] a window to view and celebrate the work as it was intended." Wow. Unfortunately, there was no mention of how much money they need to raise in order to buy or bid on such a frame, an omission which makes it more difficult for me to decide how much I would like to donate, if indeed I make a donation at all.
I guess it's the same principle as "You can't judge a book by its cover": if a great book has a bad cover, or one that doesn't reflect the type or tone of the book's contents, you're likely to dismiss the book out of hand. Still, I've changed my thinking somewhat about picture frames. Previously, I thought they should in most cases be as unobtrusive as possible; now I can see how in some circumstances at least, they can be part of the integrity or totality of the work of art.
