There’s a fine line between jingoism and national pride, just as there’s a fine line between cynicism and seeing things for how they really are. America is comfortably wealthy, yes, and has a system of government that generally responds to the voice of its people. But is it also, in fact, a heaven-sent bastion of perfection and greatness impossible to equal under any circumstances? And, flip side, do current economic conditions indicate a slow recovery from a painful recession? Or are they just the latest stomach-churning sign that the American citizenry has jumped in a handbasket and handed Wall Street the shovel?
The key is perspective. And not just “keeping things in perspective,” though that matters too, but also the unique way each person’s experiences shape the way they understands their surroundings. In E Pluribus Unum: Artists Picture Society, a new exhibit in Madison Museum of Contemporary Art’s Henry Street Gallery, the power of perspective is on full display. Works by American artists and photographers and are linked together by the Latin phrase which appears on the Great Seal of the United States. Translated, the expression means “Out of many, one.”
The title of the exhibit, then, refers to the chosen artists rather than their artwork, because not all of the pieces in E Pluribus Unum focus on the many. A lithographed aerial map of Chicago takes center stage, occupying a showcase wall in the middle of the room next to a description of the exhibit. Entitled “Chicago Stuffed with Numbers,” the artist Claes Oldenburg distorted the famous coastline, filling it to the brim with randomly chosen numbers. The choice not only makes a statement about the regimented nature of urban environments but it sets off a stark contrast with the relative serenity of Lake Michigan to the east. Insofar as Oldenburg is commenting on the United States, he is drawing attention to its population centers and how they relate to natural geographic features.
The curators of the exhibit must also have picked up on that theme, because there’s an all caps title above the artist information card that reads “Urban America.” In fact, approximately half of the gallery’s offering’s have similar titles, which seem somewhat abrupt and arbitrary. Still, the room is small enough that, when considered together, they somehow seem vaguely American (or perhaps just human, but maybe that’s the point). “Gender” hangs above a large paneled painting of kids at play in each of the four seasons. “Race” heads a black and white Andy Warhol photograph of the race riots in Birmingham, Alabama, in which Warhol dialed up the contrast to drive home the theme.
These are supplemented with an assortment of others whose theme may be more elusive, like the self explanatory photograph by Diane Arbus entitled “A Family One Evening in a Nudist Camp” or a selection of pop-art dollar signs from the set of Warhol prints “$1.”
Those prints and the piece next to them form the most blatant juxtaposition on display. The large, full color photograph by Paul Shambroom shows a few women sitting in a bland meeting room that will look familiar to anyone who’s spent time around municipal government. Though deep in discussion, the women look tired, ruffled and, frankly, underpaid. The implication is that though the rote mechanics of government may be unspectacular, they’re unavoidably necessary. The scene isn’t bleak so much as it is matter-of-fact, an argument driven home by its title: “Dassel City Council, Dassel, Minnesota (population 1,134).”
If you were to add a John Phillip Sousa backing to a slideshow of E Pluribus Unum, it would play like government propaganda. If you were to add rueful, twanging banjo, it would seem like a condemnation of our modern age. But as an art gallery, the exhibit is inflectionless, a collection of people, places and images captured and created by members of a country as diverse as it is large. Is America four family members sitting naked in a field, a city government meeting in a wood-paneled room or a neon dollar sign on a bright white background? Depends on where you stand.
E Pluribus Unum is on display through June 2012 in the Henry Street Gallery of the Madison Museum of Contemporary Art.



