By Kate Flexter, ’10, A&E Section Editor

“Individuality of expression is the beginning and end of all art.”

-Goethe

As the Keeler Theater filled with hysterical laughter, the administration found itself in a difficult position.  It could either stop Duane Michals for his inappropriateness and risk the disapproval of the student body, or it could allow him to continue and risk the likely disapproval of their parents.  Understandably, when faced with this catch-22, Mrs. Luebbers chose to err on the side of safety and asked Mr. Michals to leave the stage.

While I’ll be the first to admit my frustration with the situation, retrospectively, I am able to understand the administration’s actions.  The conflict that arose immediately made me think of the Mapplethorpe controversy that took place in Cincinnati in 1990, when an exhibition of artist Robert Mapplethorpe’s photographs at the Contemporary Arts Center drew protests and an indictment on obscenity charges (the museum and its director, Dennis Barrie, were later acquitted).  While this controversy was over the overtly sexual content of photographs rather than the content of a speech, it too begs the question: Are we provincial?  The Mapplethorpe exhibit had met with success in many large U.S. cities.  However, when it reached Cincinnati, controversy arose.  Why is it Cincinnati? How would Michals’ presentation have played in Los Angeles or New York City?

Mr. Mapplethorpe once said, “Artists are not required to be moral guides, only illuminators.”  Perhaps Mr. Michals was not trying to be moral, but, instead, was looking to illuminate the unspoken truths of life in order to provoke a reaction.  A student remarked on how funny it would be if the entire thing had been “a big performance art piece about censorship.” In a way, whether intentionally or otherwise, it was a piece of performance art.  Ironically, Mr. Michals made an even greater impression on us when he was silenced than he would have had he been able to finish his speech.  The students were given a chance to embody Mr. Michals’ very message by adamantly pursuing something.  For me, it was exciting to see the entire student body so passionately involved.

Interestingly, students did not seem as upset about the exclusion of a great deal of Mr. Michals’ work from his presentation.  This, too, is a glaring case of censorship.  While it is understandable that the administration would shy away from more provocative art, it seems strange that, given some of the other school material, we would avoid nudity.  Nudity has been a presence in Western art since the Renaissance, when artists like Michelangelo and Da Vinci began to focus on individuality and the beauty of the human form.  Why are we able to study the works of these great artists and read novels like Jose Saramago’s Blindness, but not see Mr. Michals’ more provocative photographs?

There may be a sense in which photography is more susceptible to scrutiny simply because it is not a figment of an artist’s or author’s imagination.  Instead, a photograph assures the viewer that the photographer was present when the photograph was taken.  This reality adds to the gravity of the situation.

If an artist’s job is to provoke a reaction or controversy, then Mr. Michals fulfilled his duty.   He created dialogue where there was none, opened our eyes to our surroundings, and forced us to question all that we know.  Often it is the reaction, the debate, or even the argument that an artist evokes that is the true work of art.

Who is Duane Michals?

By Meredith Hritz, ’10, A&E Editor

Duane Michals, a prominent American photographer known for his provocative and captivating pieces, has certainly made waves with innovative photography. He was born in McKeesport, Pennsylvania, in 1932 and took a liking to art, namely graphic design, at a very young age. However, it was not until he attended the Parson School of Design in New York and took a sojourn to Russia that he discovered his passion for photography. For a number of years, Michals worked in commercial photography taking pictures for Esquire and even shot the cover of The Great Gatsby. Later in Michal’s life in 1970, he had many of his photographs show in the Museum of Modern art in New York City. Michals created a book called Album filled with pictures he took from 1958-1988.

Michals is different from other photographers in that he likes to shoot his models in their everyday life and does not have a studio. His pieces are thought-provoking and make the viewer question their previous notions of life, death, beauty and ugliness.  The truly spectacular part about Michals’ work is not necessarily his photos, but the feelings they evoke. Michals says, “When people ask me what I am, I tell them I’m the artist formally known as a photographer.”

Photo courtesy of CCDS promotional materials.