Dumas Examines Fragility of Life at MoMA Exhibit

As soon as you step into the Museum of Modern of Art, it seems as if every exhibit begs you to ask the torturous question, “What is art?” Modern art converts gladly accept that a Picasso fits neatly into the category of art, but so can a toilet bowl—once placed in a museum, that is. And if this holds true, then can the Picasso still be considered art as well? And round and round we go.

Yet instead of presenting a question that often leaves us confused and frustrated, Marlene Dumas’ first solo exhibit at the MoMA shows us, with breathtaking clarity, art’s ability to give the human condition a tangible form. The title of the exhibit itself, Measuring Your Own Grave, seems to be a statement on why art is so important in our lives—even if the definition is continuously ripped apart and reassembled. Dumas, originally from South Africa, dissolves the barrier between painting and viewer so that we are not simply looking at something on a wall in a museum, but rather participating in a dialogue with the artist herself.

But Dumas’ work is not sugar-coated. It is confrontational, uncomfortable, and at times terrifying. As the title of her exhibit also suggests, Dumas has chosen to focus mostly on the morbid aspects of human existence. Working from photographs for inspiration, her subjects are men, women, and children. The figures, painted with loose, smudged brush strokes that present a nightmarish reality, take up the entire canvas and almost seem to spill over into our space.

While some images are overtly disturbing, like a series of three babies with distorted bodies or a nude prostitute bent over, others seem steady on the surface, but for some reason still feel as though they are pulsing with an undercurrent of horror that may explode to the forefront at any moment.

In one of the most powerful installations, a cave-like room entitled “Models” displays portraits drawn in black paint on white backgrounds. The sketches are arranged in a grid pattern, covering each wall from floor to ceiling so that the viewer is immersed in a chamber of emotion and expression. While this alcove is presented as a side thought to the much larger and brightly lit rooms of the exhibit, it seems to contain the main focus of Dumas’ work. In such an enclosed space, we are sharply confronted with broad ranges of human experience.

Unfortunately, the odd spatial construction of this room is indicative of a larger problem with the exhibit. While Dumas’ choice to arrange her work thematically is an interesting approach, the overwhelming darkness and depression that consumes each painting makes it hard to distinguish one motif from the next. Furthermore, the exhibit is literally sliced in half, with one part on the sixth floor and the second part on the third floor. This set-up is not clearly marked or explained and is quite jarring for viewers, especially if you think you’ve completed Dumas’ intense journey only to realize there is more. It does not seem apparent that her journey should even continue after the first half of the exhibit. The “Models” room contains more variation in themes and ideas than any other part of the show, making the second chapter of Dumas’ story a let down.

Measuring Your Own Grave first opened at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles and is Dumas’ first major American exhibition. While her work has its faults, Dumas gives us more to chew on than simply “What is art?” Instead, she shows us what art can do—including its possibilities, its limitations, and most importantly, its ability to mirror back the realities of our world, even if they make us uneasy.