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Using MoMA’s collection dataset to visualize whose stories are missing

How art impacts our reference points for marginalized communities.

Orange above equals artworks MoMA acquired from solo white male artists. Image by author.
Orange above equals artworks MoMA acquired from solo white male artists. Image by author.

Data Journalism

In a recent class project, I used MoMA’s collection dataset published on GitHub to create an interactive installation that reveals the dominant narratives being amplified. I break down the gender and ethnicities of the 15,222 records of artists who MoMA acquired artwork from between the years of 1930–2019. How can we break down MoMA’s collection into its parts to critique the dominant narrative being told?

Keeping Institutions Accountable

In September 2019, MoMA opened up for the first time after an intense renovation. The goal: expand the museum and put "Picasso and Monet next to more recent, diverse artists." This has become a common forward-thinking message being sent by most institutions and companies. The conversation of diversity and inclusion is welcomed, but how rarely do we actively create substantial impact through actions.

The research paper "Diversity of artists in major U.S. Museums" details how the Association of Art Museum Directors (AAMD) found that 72% of staff at its member institutions identify as white. They also revealed a gender gap in leadership positions where 60% of the museum staff are women but only 43% of directorships are held by women.

Art institutions are a specific example of systems that once ruthlessly enabled standards aligned with the white dominant Culture. More specifically, the evaluation of artworks through the lens of European Modernism. Now the fear is being criticized for its exclusive and pretentious white-box tone. MoMA is trying to rethink the ways we talk about and evaluate artworks. I wanted to create an experience that helps illustrate the dominant stories being featured and ones that are missing entirely.

Scraping the Dataset

Image by author.
Image by author.
  1. Ethnicity: First, I visualized the percentage of different ethnicities of artists at MoMA using data from the paper "Diversity of artists in major U.S. Museums" (Topez, Chad M et al).
  2. Gender: I used MoMA’s collection data to distill the percentages of different genders of artists for every artwork acquired per decade starting from 1930 to 2019. I used color to visualize these percentages.
  3. Top 10 Female Artists: From there, I focused on the top 10 female artists who had the most artwork acquired. This is represented using a visual word cloud where size of name correlates to number of acquired artworks.

Embodying Data Through an Experience

<iframe src="https://cdn.embedly.com/widgets/media.html?src=https%3A%2F%2Fplayer.vimeo.com%2Fvideo%2F524606006%3Fapp_id%3D122963&dntp=1&display_name=Vimeo&url=https%3A%2F%2Fvimeo.com%2F524606006&image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.vimeocdn.com%2Fvideo%2F1086436662_1280.jpg&key=a19fcc184b9711e1b4764040d3dc5c07&type=text%2Fhtml&schema=vimeo" title="Video walkthrough of the "Who Matters?" installation." height="1080" width="1920">

Step 1: Place as many sticker dots near the names you recognize. Scattered on each paper-net are the names of the top 10 female artists who have had the most artwork acquired by MoMA for a specific decade. The larger the name, the more artwork of theirs has been acquired. The more artwork acquired, the more space they take up. Over time, the collective input of data from art viewers will reveal whether the number of artworks acquired by an artist impacts their level of exposure.

Step 2: Pull back the black handles. The paper-net forms into a 3-dimensional shape. The percentage of male, female, multiple artists and no record found regarding gender per decade will be revealed.

Step 3: Take a step back and view the entire board. The perimeter of the pegboard is color-coded with the percentage of each ethnicity. As you step back and walk around the board the colors that dominate the 3D bar graphs and perimeter of the board reveal which groups dominant the museum’s collection.

The interactive aspect of installation sparks conversation among participants. Image by author.
The interactive aspect of installation sparks conversation among participants. Image by author.

Insights

  • The most recognizable female artists will emerge over time. I completed the sticker activity with people in my household. We placed stickers next to the female artists we recognized. The larger the name on the board (more artwork acquired) we were more likely to know their work. This also prompts reflection on which names are missing.
  • MoMA acquired work from predominantly male and caucasian artists. The majority of artists who MoMA acquired artwork from since 1930 through 2019 have been male. In more recent decades, there has been a slight increase in female artists.
  • It took the longest to go around the dark navy blue border (representing white artists). Artworks by Black and Latino/Latinx artists are represented significantly less at MoMA. The large majority of artists are white.
  • The installation’s interactive component sparks conversation among participants. As I demoed the installation with people in my household, the activities prompted us to reflect on our initial reactions. We asked each other how we knew about a specific female artist and discussed how surprised (or unsurprised) we were at the gaps in diversity at MoMA. Along with reflecting on our role in the art industry.

Our Reference Points Impacted by the Lack of Representation

Downplaying Anti-Asian Sentiments

The levels of representation in the narratives we surround ourselves with become the reference points for how we perceive cultures and other marginalized groups. At MoMA, arguably one of the most influential museums, we mostly see works by white male artists. In our households, classrooms, and relationships, what perspectives or experiences are we surrounding ourselves with?

The eight lives lost, six of them being Asian women, from the Atlanta shooting has created a massive sense of outrange in the Asian American community. The rise in anti-Asian hate is revealing just how dangerous the stories that fuel racist, xenophobic, and misogynist attacks are. Whether it be the art we view in pristine museums or rhetoric we hear online, these all contribute to the reference points we associate with "others."

For example, USA TODAY reports that Anti-Asian sentiment rose 85% after Trump was diagnosed with COVID-19 last fall, the ADL found at the time. From his time in office to this very day, Trump has plagued the reference point that people associate Asians with by using the extremely racist term "China virus."

Image by author.
Image by author.

Role of Art in an Increasingly Loud World

Museums provide a space for stories. With contemporary art, there’s a loose grip on what passes as "art." This welcomes abstract and muddled in interpretation performances, installations, paintings, mixed media, sculptures, etc. It’s often a shared collective understanding of cultures and societal issues that allow us to relate to certain artworks.

From the content on our screens to conversations with others, there’s an increasingly divisive and politically raged background noise. We benefit from engaging with artworks by artists from all walks of life who have stories that diverge from our narratives. It provides itself an opportunity for reflection and conversation.

Creating Truly Diverse and Inclusive Reference Points

Despite the story I tell about my background and current identity, there will always be a haze surrounding me. A haze made up of racism and reduction of my Korean-American heritage. Sometimes so subtle that at times I tell myself that there’s nothing to worry about. It has never been blue skies for the AAPI community.

What are the reference points I use when reflecting on my background and identity as an Asian woman? Many generalizations about who I am based on my ethnicity is fueled by the representation of my community in art, media, leadership positions, candid conversations, etc. By pushing back on these harmful stereotypes, we can mitigate the dehumanization of marginalized groups.

Ruth Asawa Transformative Wire Sculptures

4 Pieces of the Ruth Asawa wire sculptures. Seen at the David Zwirner Exhibit. Photo by Wikipedia Author Njdancer15. This image is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.
4 Pieces of the Ruth Asawa wire sculptures. Seen at the David Zwirner Exhibit. Photo by Wikipedia Author Njdancer15. This image is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

As I learned more about Japanese-American Artist Ruth Asawa, the more I felt the relevancy of her artwork in terms of my own experiences as a Korean-American.

Before her arrival to the Black Mountain College in the summer of 1946, Asawa was born in Norwalk, California. Her parents were immigrants from Japan and felt the pressures of discriminatory laws against the Japanese. They were unable to own land, become American citizens, or dream beyond becoming truck farmers. Asawa’s upbringing during the Great Depression with the stock market crashes led her family to struggle due to the unfavorable economy and persistent discrimination against the Japanese. They were placed in two internment camps.

Asawa’s biomorphic-like wire sculptures remind me that our emotions, however mighty and weak they may be, don’t have to be consolidated as something stiff and fear-inducing like a metal wire. Rather, they can be transformed into an airy, dynamic, and hauntingly beautiful wire sculpture to be displayed for everyone. Her wire sculptures give shape to the abstract and messy.

I sense an artistic rebellion in her artwork that existed in a system where discrimination and racism thrived. A rebellion shaped by her pursuit of casting every small pleasure into its own shadow to define its own presence.

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash.
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash.

Myths of "Pull Yourself Up By Your Boot Straps"

This installation using MoMA’s collection dataset was a way for me to reflect on just how slow changes take. We can celebrate the strides BIPOC communities have made, but there’s a loud call for accountability and deep investment in stories that have been systematically erased. The perspectives of Black, Asian, Latin/Latinx, Hispanic, Indigenous, and non-binary artists have always existed. How can we rethink the categories used to evaluate and think about artworks? What role do we have as the viewer?

I wonder what it must’ve been like for my grandfather in the 80s to introduce himself at a truck factory job when immigrating from South Korea to Portland. By demonstrating that he knew the parts of the truck, he was able to prove that he was a highly skilled worker despite not being able to speak English. He was no lesser than anyone there – something that had to be continuously proven.

In a time of performative activism, we must push back. Your stories matter. As Michelle Obama writes in _Becoming, "_If you don’t get out there and define yourself, you’ll be quickly and inaccurately defined by others." The more space allotted for marginalized groups, the more we can celebrate and respect their cultures and stories in all their splendor.


Donate: gofundme.com/f/support-aapi-community-fund Act: stopaapihate.org/actnow Learn: anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co Watch: youtube.com/watch?v=14WUuya94QE


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