When most people think of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), their minds conjure up images of mathematical equations, nerds and possibly a prank involving a police car and a tower. Amid the physics and engineering feats, fine art gets lost in the fray. Perhaps painfully aware of its reputation, MIT decided to diversify. Hence the birth of MIT's public art collection in 1963.
Since then, the public art collection has grown into an impressive body of work. Scattered all around MIT are incredible pieces by some of the most important artists of the 20th and 21st centuries. Many of the pieces are sculptures, but there are also some impressive architectural examples. The nondenominational chapel and Kresge auditorium, both by Eero Saarinen, architect of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Mo., are only two of many examples of stunning works on the campus.
One huge advantage of the collection is that all of the pieces are housed outside, and, with a few exceptions, they seem to be made for the outdoors. Huge, soaring sculptures would seem restrained in an indoor setting, but instead, the pieces take full advantage of the surrounding open space.
Many pieces are displayed in pairs, transforming green lawns into extraordinary gallery spaces. Art that would seem stuffy and foreboding in a constricted white room is set free, resulting in a significantly more relaxing art experience. Luckily, Tufts students are conveniently located next door to this amazing collection, with just a few inbound Red Line stops to Kendall Square separating them from a bountiful collection of artistic structures.
It would be exceedingly difficult to list all of the public art on the MIT campus, but for practical purposes, art enthusiasts should start at the List Visual Arts Center on 20 Ames St. Patrons should prepare by quickly visiting the List's website prior to a tour. The website includes information on the extensive gallery, so it is easy to find a list of all of the works as well as maps that make the List easily navigable — though wandering is not the worst way to explore the artwork.
Cutting into the campus across from List, you will find a sculpture by Louise Nevelson, entitled "Transparent Horizon" (1975). The huge piece is a mélange of steel abstracted forms painted black. Instead of creating a sculpture using shapes that are three−dimensional, Nevelson has layered flat shapes constructed in steel. Many of the shapes hint at recognizable organic forms like clouds, rays of sunlight or trees, but none of them are explicit. Rather, Nevelson arranges these shapes one on top of the other, creating a play between the shapes and the empty spaces. Heightening this effect, the piece looks entirely different from every angle. Depending on the perspective of the viewer, this constant shifting reinforces the organic, natural forms Nevelson used in the piece. This is one example of a piece that could never be properly seen inside; its rhythmic, natural shapes would be lost if confined to a white room.
Down the path and to the left is another sculpture, "Big Sail" (1966) by Alexander Calder. The Calder is in the middle of a large courtyard, and the piece looks like it is striding across the empty space. Like the Nevelson, it is constructed of steel that has been painted black, but despite this potential for heaviness, the actual piece is incredibly light. The piece is anchored by four asymmetrically placed legs, but the huge, flat, rounded shapes that speed up from these anchors make it look like the sculpture could take flight — a reference to its fitting name.
One of the amazing features of the Calder is that you can actually stand underneath the sculpture and look up through it to the sky. It creates a space for the viewer inside, and from this perspective, everything in the courtyard around you is framed by the piece. This type of interactive, free−play environment is what the outdoor setting encourages and it gives the piece the effect that Calder himself desired.
The building right in front of the Calder and facing the river is the Hayden Memorial Library. Inside is a courtyard with three Jacques Lipchitz sculptures. These bronze works are much smaller than the Calder and the Nevelson, and the courtyard, though still outside, harbors more of a traditional museum ambience. Again, there are no other distractions from the pieces and the harmony of the sculptures is surfaced by their isolation.
One of the Lipchitz sculptures, "Hagar in the Desert" (1957), is a modernist take on a story from the Book of Genesis. The free−form depiction of the desperate Hagar, abandoned by Abraham in the desert with her small son, Ishmael, is incredibly emotional. Lipchitz elongates the forms of mother and son so that they are nearly unrecognizable, infusing a modern cubist language into the biblical text. The piece is more a depiction of the emotions of the pair than an effort to reproduce the biblical narrative. Lipchitz's experiences with World War II — as a middle−aged Jewish man in Lithuania, he was forced to flee to France — encouraged him to give shape to life's atrocities, and sculptures like "Hagar in the Desert" are emotional vehicles for his pain.
Going out of Hayden Memorial Library and walking to the right along the river is Killian Court, which houses two sculptures, one by Michael Heizer and one by Henry Moore. The impressive Neoclassical Maclaurin building serves as a backdrop for Killian Court, which is sheltered from the street by rows of staggered hedges. The resulting space is a calm and private environment for the works, reminiscent of a well−groomed garden.
The Heizer piece, "Guennette" (1977), is a large abstract sculpture constructed from Laurentian granite, a type of stone with a warm pinkish color. "Guennette" is composed of one huge disc of granite, on top of which are layered large semi−circles, blocks and triangles. The sculpture is a play of flat planes and rounded and sharpened edges, the sensory element heightened by the warm color of the stone. The placement of the piece directly on the ground makes it seem more accessible, and it frequently serves as fine art seating for students.
Directly across from the Heizer is the piece by Moore, "Three−Piece Reclining Figure, Draped" (1976). A large bronze sculpture, the piece looks like it started as a classic female nude but slowly melted into its bronze base. Moore has truncated certain parts of the form and abstracted others, so that the feeling and essence of the form supersedes the actual figure. Some parts of the piece are extremely smooth and polished, while others are covered with rough hatch marks, creating a more sensory dimension to the piece. Though extremely beautiful, there is something disquieting about the way Moore has taken apart the female form — he clearly pays homage to this classic subject but does not leave it untouched.
MIT's public art collection does a wonderful job of displaying pieces that perfectly suit their outdoor environment. Although the Lipchitz sculptures may be a nod to more traditional museum settings, most of the pieces benefit from their open surroundings. The play of natural light, the expanse of space and the reflection of organic forms of nature in the pieces themselves all heighten one's experience of the work. Instead of being confronted with an assault of pieces all at once as in a traditional gallery, passersby are presented with individual works in their own separate environments. Completely different from a stuffy museum experience, the MIT public art collection is not to be missed.
