
“What do I want to know about the Berkshire Museum’s Armed and Dangerous: Art of the Arsenal?” That was what I was asking myself last Friday at Dottie’s Coffee Lounge. Fortunately, I was pondering this in the midst of the lunch rush, so I turned to photographer and Quite Queer party mastermind, Timothy Michael Kushi for a bit of market research. His response to what was the need to know: “accomplishments of the participating artists and the inspiration for the artists work.” Unsure as to how much of this information would be readily available, and wanting to give the community something original, I furrowed my brow and pondered how an artists perspective could be brought into the interview. Then the obvious struck me-grab a couple artists and bring ‘em along. Thus was born PCon’s FIELD TRIP.







Two hours later, I was in the Dino Dig Room with fellow Pittsfield Contemparian, Jay Elling and the fierce and fabulous Jeanet Ingalls, disputing the exact former placement of the glow in the dark rock room (removed during the museum’s renovations)* and arguing the awesome versus icky factor of the museum’s taxidermied natural history collection.
With the arrival of Berkshire Museum Director of Interpretation, Maria Mingalone and Jazu Stine, our Field Trip was ready to go and I was ready to see if this cockamayme idea had any legs.
Early battle adornments and implements from the American Plains to New Guinea juxtaposed by an impressive wall of dramatically lit horns (of the animal, not musical persuasion) greeted us at the top of the stairs. In the midst of antlers and arms, I launched my first and only formal question to Mingalone; “what was the impetus for the exhibition?”
“Well, it was kind of by accident,” Mingalone began. “We had a summer intern assisting with the cataloging of our collection who had a special interest in weaponry. Every time I would go down there (to collection storage), there would be more unusual, beautiful objects, and we really started to get a sense of breadth and depth of this part of our collection.” Mingalone ballparked that out of the approximately 200 objects that comprise the show, 165 are part of the museums permanent collection.
“We have a diverse collection, we like to reflect that in how we mount our exhibitions-blending disciplines; taking a multi-disciplinary approach presents the richest educational atmosphere” Mingalone explained. That is why Mingalone and her exhibition team, plumbed the natural and art worlds for specimens to compliment this exceptional survey of objects designed to bludgeon, skew, intimidate and awe-to help tell the story of the evolution of one of the most universal, if unsavory human pursuits.
With my one and only official, big girl reporter question out of the way, and the museum fairly quiet, we were able to kick back and take it all in. In some ways, it is easy to be merely awed by the craftsmanship and exoticism of feathered headresses, 8 ft plus samurai swords, pony helmets and what looks to be a giant lucky rabbits foot but I was told was a quiver. “It is incredible the resources that have gone into these objects and how personal they are,” Ingalls stated in reference to an intricately done set of early Fillipino chainmail.
The objects that open the show were made for combat waged in spitting distance proximity. They are “declarations of self-as-warrior” in paint, feather, and club, and offer a sharp contrast to Berkshire based photojournalist Jonas Dovydenas‘ images of American soldiers embedded in Afghanistan.
“When you enter, it (combat) is so personal” says Ingalls , “and it becomes so depersonalized.” Reviewing a collection of early firearms, Stine adds that “it seems as if some elements of the moral code, dignity, and honor of being of a warrior has been lost.” It seemed easy to feel that way whilst looking at Dovydenas’ smoking, seemingly disillusioned soldiers with shinning suits of armor looking over your shoulder.
The exhibition, and our group, then moved beyond the soldiers, beyond the combat, to-brace yourself Mr. Kushi- contemporary art works related to the theme. Kitty corner to Dovydenas’ somber cigarette toking soldiers are images of what seem to be unoccupied cityscapes. Upon closer examination, Chinese contemporary artist Liu Bolin emerges painted to blend with his surroundings. Mingalone stated that the series, City Hiding, was partly inspired by Bolin’s displacement during Beijing’s pre-olympic city clean-up. In short, his abode went bye-bye to make nice for the tourists-Tanglewood traffic doesn’t seem so bad now, huh?
Bolin’s use of camouflage is not for the purpose of deadly stealth, but statement. Aussie artist Emma Hack uses camouflage to create sheer expressions of visual lushness, and god bless her for doing so. Her works, as well as those of the other contemporary artists, including Peter Gronquist (for any Bruno fans, he made the Chanel rocket launcher used in the film) brought a light, if cheeky note to the closing of our excursion.
Our last stop was an installation Shepard Fairey prints (many on loan from ceramicist and local educator Michael Boroniec), hung opposite World War II propaganda posters. Here the group dispersed, one half examining Fairey’s layering technique and trying to decipher the World War II propaganda, the other rating what’s good and bad for shows in the city. With the guards alerting us that the museum was in fact closed, we meandered our way out, taking in the mounted buck head with a 30 ft rack in the Crane Room. You know, just your average field trip.
TEXT//RWEINMAN
PHOTOS//JELLING
Click below for more fun time pics from Jay Elling!
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