Visitors to art blockbusters worship at the shrine of great art, while the overwhelming spectacle of crowds, queues and commodities prevent them from engaging meaningfully with the works on display.

(Shearer West)

The term "blockbuster" was first coined in 1975 with the release of Jaws, the first film to gross over $100 million, and has since been applied to various industries, including museums. Blockbuster exhibitions, characterized by their enormous scale, popularity, and significant financial investment, are often hosted by large institutions such as Tate and The Met. Despite their wide appeal and profitability, blockbuster exhibitions have drawn criticism from curators and scholars. While they attract large audiences and generate revenue, many questions have been raised as to whether these exhibitions prioritise spectacle over substance. With their focus on commercial success and mass appeal, some argue that these exhibitions can overshadow more thoughtful, scholarly endeavors.1 Arguments can also be made that they contribute to the exploitation of culture, leading to showcasing a narrow history.2

One of the reasons blockbuster exhibitions exist is as a simple way for institutions to gain capital. 3 Due to the large scale of blockbuster exhibitions, which include a hefty price tag and public exposure through commercialization, museums look towards sponsors and donations to aid in the financial aspects.4 When approaching sponsors, museums choose subjects that are popular in order to attract public appeal, one of the distinguishing characteristics of a blockbuster exhibition. Sponsors gain benefits in return for their funding, some of which include advertising and public relations. The association of a sponsor to a blockbuster exhibition can be considered one of the best forms of public relations, when taking into consideration the institution, the exhibition topic and the limelight being cast on it.

Timothy Luke affirms this relationship, ‘Corporate patronage institutionalizes the self-interests of corporations as the essence of contemporary culture; thus 'art for art's sake' is always actually art for capital's sake as investment in art enables firms to commodify and accumulate goodwill, public repute, and honored status as integral parts of their business strategies. The power of giving or creating meaning, once ignored by capital, now can be applied as the social grease of good civic standing or productive labour relations within the company. Art buys legitimacy, identity, and acceptance, even when one's corporate product otherwise might be creating corruption, dissatisfaction, and animosity.’5

Another issue we see in regard to sponsorship is the narrow history that is told in blockbuster exhibitions. Curators find themselves needing to limit the story they are telling and, at times, the works they are displaying, not only to gain sponsorships but to stay in favour of the sponsor's public image.6 German artist, Hans Haacke, contemplates sponsorship in exhibitions, saying, ‘Shows that could promote critical awareness, present products of consciousness dialectically, and in relation to the social world, or question relations of power, have a slim chance of being approved... self-censorship is having a boom. Without exerting any direct pressure, corporations have effectively gained a veto in museums.’7 What Haacke is expressing here is that in order to acquire sponsorship to finance blockbuster exhibitions, the exhibition must be on an appealing subject matter, and must not contain elements that can cause controversy, which in turn leads to a censorship in the narrative being told to the public in relation to the topic, leaving the viewer with a perception that has been skewed one direction, without offering a complete picture.

An example of a very well-known blockbuster exhibition that had the issue of offering a limited history was the Museum of Modern Art’s “Primitivism” in 20th Century Art 1984 exhibition. The curators Kirk Varnedoe and William Rubin were both Caucasian American art historians who included well known works in the exhibition by the likes of Pablo Picasso and Paul Gauguin, juxtaposed to articles from African civilization. The issue in this, which was pointed out by, art historian and critic, Thomas McEvilly, was that these objects taken from other cultures, outside of the West, were shown without any context pertaining to what the object was, any dates on its creation, or on its function. McEvilly famously criticised their blockbuster exhibition calling it, ‘Western egotism still as unbridled as in the centuries of colonialism and souvenirism.

The Museum pretends to confront the Third World while really coopting it and using it to consolidate Western notions of quality and feelings of superiority.’ He then finished his review by adding a note in regard to the sponsor, stating, ‘… chairman of Philip Morris, one of the sponsors of the exhibition, writes in the catalogue that his company operates in 170 “countries and territories,” suggesting a purview comparable to that of the show. He continues, “We at Philip Morris have benefited from the contemporary art we have acquired and the exhibitions we have sponsored over the past quarter-century... They have stirred creative approaches throughout our company.” In the advertisement in the Sunday New York Times preceding the “‘Primitivism’” opening, the Philip Morris logo is accompanied by the words, “It takes art to make a company great.” Well, it takes more than connoisseurship to make an exhibition great.’8

To this day MoMA is still receiving criticism for their narrow perspective on the subject of this blockbuster exhibition.

Sponsorship is not the only way we see a narrow history being told in blockbuster exhibitions. Alternatively, the viewer experiences a narrow history through the chosen artwork included in the show, in regard to the museum's policy. When reviewing the exhibition policies for many museums, highlighted as an aim is to call attention to the permanent collection of the institution.9 This is something that was evident in the National Gallery’s recent show, Dürer’s Journey’s Travels of a Renaissance Artist. Laura Cumming, a reviewer at The Guardian, wrote, ‘There is no clear chronology and barely any discernible narrative. The show feels on the one hand congested—too many passengers on board – and on the other, lacking in the forcefield presence of the German master.’10

The National Gallery’s permanent collection only held one masterpiece by Albretch Dürer in this blockbuster exhibition. The exhibition took the viewer on a tour of many of the gallery’s permanent masterpieces, whose artists consisted of Giovanni Bellini, a leader in the Italian Renaissance, as well as Lucas van Leyden and Jean Gossart, who were both influential artists of their time. When visiting this show, the issue that came from the disjointed history that guided the audience throughout the rooms, in order to highlight the permanent collection. While the pieces were outstanding, as a blockbuster exhibition is known for, the confusion came from the title of the exhibition and the fragmented history it told in relation to the life and many travels of Dürer, and how they, in turn, affected his art.

Similarly, in the article entitled Jackson Pollock Superstar, Justin Spring recounts his visit to the 1990 Jason Pollock exhibition at MoMA. He paints an elaborate picture, first commenting on the high-price of the goods available for purchase in the shop, then on the attractive workers at their stations waiting to greet guests. Spring shares a background on his interest in visiting this show, stating his fascination and academic interest in Pollock. He later comments on his first reaction to the exhibition being negative, as upon entry it scanned over the mentors that aided Pollock into becoming the artist he was. His next concern was that the curators were giving the audience the idea that Pollock was the first to originate many of the styles he used, when in actuality they had come before him. Spring reflects on this show by stating, ‘While the politics of MoMA and the politics of mounting a blockbuster exhibition mandate the sort of oversimplification that is reflected here, it is still disappointing not to have such precedents pointed out.’11

In an article by Sirin Kale for The Guardian, the journalist discusses her own troubles in trying to view blockbuster exhibitions, avoid pushing and elbows to the side, just so she could, as an avid art enthusiast, take in the masterpieces. Kale interviews multiple people, including artists, and lecturers who are avid museum goers, all of whom have had similar experiences in regards to their viewing experience at blockbuster exhibitions. London artist Lizzie Hughes recounted her experience of viewing the National Gallery exhibition Beyond Caravaggio, stating, ‘Like being in a nightclub. You couldn’t even see the pictures—you were being pushed around by the crowd. It was scary.’ Hughes finished her interview, saying due to safety, she left without viewing the full exhibit.

References

1 Pedro Nicolás Azara, Exhibition: From the Idealization to the Nail, Brazil, 2018.
2 Manon Delaury, The Sensible Blockbuster, France, 2022.
3 Shearer West, The Devaluation of “Cultural Capital”: Post-Modern Democracy and the Art Blockbuster in Art in Museums, London, 1995, 81.
4 S.J. Freedberg, Art History and the ‘Blockbuster’ Exhibition. 1987, 295.
5 Timothy Luke, Shows of Force Power, Politics, and Ideology in Art Exhibitions, North Carolina, 1999, 160.
6 Herbert Schiller, Corporate Sponsorship: Institutionalized Censorship of the Cultural Realm, 1991, 57.
7 Hans Haacke, Hans Haacke: Unfinished Business, New York, 1987, 71.
8 Thomas McEvilley, Doctor Lawyer Indian Chief, New York, 1984.
9 Susan Foister, The National Gallery’s Exhibition Policy, London, 2014, 1.
10 Laura Cumming, Dürer’s Journeys: Travels of a Renaissance Artist review- all over the place, London, 2021.
11 Justin Spring, Jackson Pollock, Superstar, New England, 1999, 48.