Collections: American Art

  • 1st Floor
    Arts of Africa, Steinberg Family Sculpture Garden
  • 2nd Floor
    Arts of Asia and the Islamic World
  • 3rd Floor
    Egyptian Art, European Paintings
  • 4th Floor
    Contemporary Art, Decorative Arts, Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art
  • 5th Floor
    Luce Center for American Art

On View: Head from a Female Sphinx

This head depicts an ancient Egyptian princess, daughter of King Amenemhat II, and originally had a lion’s body. Over the centuries, i...

Hiroshige's One Hundred Famous Views of Edo

Hiroshige's 118 woodblock landscape and genre scenes of mid-nineteenth-century Tokyo, is one of the greatest achievements of Japanese art.

    On View: Plaque

    Among pre-Columbian cultures of Mexico and Central and South America, gold was associated with the life-renewing properties of the sun and t...

     

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    Brooklyn Museum Posse:
    Exploring the collection

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    Italian SketchbookWoman in ManteauTropical SceneryBacchanteSketchbook, Conway, New HampshireOn the Delaware RiverThe Waste of Waters is Their FieldThe WaveStreet Scene (Hester Street)Shooting for the BeefPierre Van CortlandtJohn VinallEast River ParkMy UncleVirginWyntje (Lavinia) Van VechtenPortrait of a WomanGeorge WashingtonGirl with AppleMrs. Sylvester (Abigail Pickman) GardinerStill Life with FruitA Storm in the Rocky Mountains, Mt. RosalieMrs. Alexander Cumming, née Elizabeth Goldthwaite, later Mrs. John BaconBound AngelJonas PlattSketchbookStudy for "They Will Take My Island"John Van CortlandtVirgin of Pomata with St. Nicholas Tolentino and St. Rose of LimaThe Carpenters Shop in NazarethTemple of Khonsu at KarnakStanding WomanMrs. Charles DodgeSwinging in the SquareAtahualpa, Fourteenth Inca, 1 of 14 Portraits of Inca KingsGourdsLetitia Wilson JordanMartinique WomanWilliam Rush Carving His Allegorical Figure of the Schuylkill RiverA Ride for Liberty -- The Fugitive SlavesNude on Chair, Legs CrossedMerry Christmas (Yuletide Revels)Lake GeorgeOn the Way between Old and New Cairo, Citadel Mosque of Mohammed Ali, and Tombs of the MamelukesPortrait of a Gentleman/Mourning MiniaturePlant FormThe Virgin Mary with Indian DonorsA Shower of Ashes Upon OttavianoBlack Pansy & Forget-Me-Nots (Pansy)The FittingThe NativityWinterOld Putney BridgeManco Capac, First Inca, 1 of 14 Portraits of Inca KingsThe Lost Pleiad

    Collection – Showing objects 1 - 55 of 6586

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    Fund for African American Art: New Acquisition

    As many of you know, the Brooklyn Museum launched the Fund for African American Art a few years ago. This ambitious initiative, which was covered in the New York Times, is designed to help us acquire works created by African American artists before 1945. As someone who just came on board, I’m excited to work with these new acquisitions, many of which are on view now in American Identities, our permanent exhibition devoted to American art on the fifth floor of the museum. For example, this beautiful portrait of actor Leigh Whipper painted by Loïs Mailou Jones was recently installed in American Identities and I had the opportunity to research the artwork to prepare for its debut.

    Dans un Café à Paris (Leigh Whipper), 1939

    Loïs Mailou Jones (American, 1905-1998). Dans un Café à Paris (Leigh Whipper), 1939. Oil on canvas, 36 x 29 in. (91.4 x 73.7 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Brooklyn Museum Fund for African American Art and gift of Auldlyn Higgins Williams and E.T. Williams, Jr., 2012.1. © Loïs Mailou Jones Pierre-Nöel Trust

    When Loïs Mailou Jones painted this portrait, Leigh Whipper was approaching the height of his career as a Broadway and Hollywood actor. He had already become the first black member of the Actors Equity Association in 1920 and, by the end of 1939, he would be famous for his role as Crooks in Lewis Milestone’s critically acclaimed film adaptation of John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. Whipper’s character—a handicapped farmhand ostracized because of his race—served to illuminate the movie’s Depression-era message that American Dream’s promise of economic and social success was impossible.

    Leigh Whipper

    Photograph of Leigh Whipper © Estate of Leigh Rollin Whipper, Courtesy of Carole Ione Lewis

    Faced with the task of learning more about such a fascinating person, I beat a path to the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, which holds the Leigh Whipper papers. Thanks these records, I learned that these two dynamic artists time spent together on February 9, 1939. On that day, Loïs Mailou Jones signed the actor’s signature book: “In memory of a very pleasant afternoon.” With that, she left her signature in the august company of other notables like NAACP leader Walter White. According to Jones’s archives, Whipper also left a caring note in Jones’s guest book: “To the #1 Negro artist (Loïs Jones) who will some day be America’s #1 artist.”

    Leigh Whipper’s Signature Book

    Leigh Whipper’s Signature Book, Box 1, Folder 1, Leigh Rollin Whipper Papers, Manuscripts, Archives and Rare Books Division, Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, The New York Public Library. © Estate of Leigh Rollin Whipper, Courtesy of Carole Ione Lewis

    When Jones painted this portrait she had recently returned to teach at Howard University in Washington, D.C. after a year sabbatical spent studying painting in Paris. Perhaps it was nostalgia for France that led Jones to depict Whipper as if seated at a Paris café. At Howard, the artist would enter an intellectual conversation on campus that shaped the discourse of the Harlem Renaissance more broadly. Harlem Renaissance intellectual Alain Locke and “father” of African American art history James Porter were both professors at Howard.

    Jones in her Paris studio, 1938

    Jones in her Paris studio, 1938. Papers of LMJ/Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, Howard University. © Loïs Mailou Jones Pierre-Nöel Trust

    Dans un Café à Paris (Leigh Whipper) reveals the influence of both Locke and Porter. The naturalistic modeling of figure and still-life arrangement of wine bottle and sandwiches follow the academic style that Porter himself employed in his own paintings. Although Locke heralded the flat, egyptianized forms of Aaron Douglas as the epitome of a “racial school of art” inspired by the abstracted forms of African art, Locke also implored black artists to create ennobling portrayals of African Americans—a call that Lois Mailou Jones’s portrayal of a pensive Whipper clearly fulfilled.

     

     

    Author profile

    About Dalila Scruggs

    Dalila Scruggs comes to the Brooklyn Museum from the Williams College Museum of Art, where she served as Mellon Curatorial Fellow for Diversity in the Arts since 2009. In that position, which straddled curatorial and education, she curated African American and the American Scene, 1929-45, assisted with a reinstallation of the permanent collection, and taught a survey course of African American art. Dalila earned a Ph.D. in Art History from Harvard University, where she focused on African American art and traditional West African art. An essay drawn for her dissertation was recently published in Early African American Print Culture (edited by Lara Langer Cohen and Jordan Alexander Stein).
    Filed under: American Art, Newly on View, Recent Acquisitions
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    Replicating a 19th Century Statue with 21st Century Tech

    My first exposure to the world of 3D printing took place in 2009 approximately 500 feet under the Earth’s surface in a former missile silo in the Washington state desert. There, three founders of a new Brooklyn-based 3D printer company hosted a workshop on building a 3D printer kit as part of Toorcamp, a nerdy version of Burning Man. At the end of the kit’s 4-hour assembly we printed out some tiny jewelry boxes. At the time 3D printing seemed to me like a novel technology for hackers with lots of potential, but not one I had any specific use for. Four years later, that use was found.

    Museum sculptures are an interesting case in accessibility; they exist in a place the public can access but usually aren’t allowed to touch. Most sculpture materials aren’t too smelly or noisy so that limits the sensory experience to sight. However, not everyone has the ability to see, and although special exemptions are occasionally made to allow the visually impaired to touch some sculptures, you can only feel so much of a large object.

    Sight includes the ability to expand the size or detail of what you’re looking at by moving closer or further away from the object. This isn’t possible in the two-dimensional web, so the paradigm of pairing a “thumbnail” image with a full-size counterpart became an established method for having both a high-level and up-close view of things. With similar constraints in mind, we’ve utilized 3D scanning and printing to create a “thumbnail” for large sculptures which can be used as a tactial maps of the object’s entire shape.

    So how do you go from marble masterpiece to plastic replica? Like 3D printing, 3D scanning has also recently broken out of the expensive-equipment-for-expensive-professions world and into the much more afforable world of hobbyists and institutions with modest budgets. AutoCAD’s 123D Catch is a free download which was launched last year as a way to create 3D models from photos using stereophotogrammetry, which basically means taking a bunch of photos from different angles and letting software figure out how far away stuff in one photo is from stuff in the next.

    The conditions those photos are taken in both in the camera and everything surrounding the subject are pretty unforgiving; out of the first eight attempts I’ve made scanning sculptures, only the double Pegasus ended up looking close to what it was supposed to. From these initial attempts and some research, I was able to narrow down the list of things to scan next by whether they met this criteria:

    • Can’t be shiny
    • Can’t be or be inside something transparent
    • Can’t be wiggly/moving (no scanning museum visitors)
    • Must fit in a photo when shot at 30 different angles in a 360 degree radius
    • Must be lit under consistent lighting
    • Can’t have shadows cast on it when shooting
    • Can’t have too many things moving around in the shot (museum visitors indoors, leaves in a windy day outdoors)

    When Rachel recommended Randolph Rogers’s The Lost Pleiad, it so perfectly matched the criteria that I saw myself rendering a perfect model from the first scan. Eleven scanning attempts later, I found out:

    • Most cameras try to attempt auto-adjusting exposure when shooting towards a source of light, ruining the scan
    • Bright spotlights on bright white marble create a blur between the edge of the object and the background, ruining the scan
    • Turning off said spotlights without cranking up a camera’s ISO settings lead to slower shutter releases which lead to blurry images, ruining the scan
    • Cameraphones and point-and-shoot cameras don’t have very high ISO settings and I don’t have perfectly steady hands

    Scan #11 used a Canon SLR with a manually set white balance, exposure level, and high ISO setting (5000); only auto-focus remained in the camera’s control. Approximately 30 shots in a mostly even perimeter around the statue were taken and re-taken in case if the first take was out of focus along with around 12 overhead shots in a smaller perimeter above and around the statue. After sorting out any blurry photos, the images were uploaded into the Windows version of 123D Catch which shows the angles at which each photo was taken.

    123dcatch_windows_600px

    Before this is printer-ready, the object had to be cleaned up so that the object has a flat base and doesn’t include stuff in the background picked up by the scan. We used MeshMixer, a free download.

    With the texture removed, the remaining mesh looked as though it was melting somewhere that didn’t have gravity with swaths of wall and floor surrounding it (alt+left mouse drag to move around, alt+right mouse drag to zoom in).

    meshmixer_plane_cut_600px

    I removed floating artifacts is by using the plane cut tool (Edits -> Plane Cut). This was also useful for removing bulges on the surface and slicing a perfectly flat base for the model. The surface of the object was also bumpy and jagged where it should be smooth (arms, torso, etc). The way I solved this was by using the smoothing brush.

    meshmixer_smooth_brush_600px

    The smoothing brush (Smoothbrush/1) is basically digital sandpaper; For each rough area, I adjusted the size and strength of the brush to match the size and roughness of the surface until it looked more like it’s supposed to. In addition to the removal of defects, the object had to be made “watertight” and have any holes and cracks sealed before being printable.

    meshmixer_inspector_600px

    With the  inspector tool (Analysis -> Inspector), a floating color-coded sphere pointed to a gap near the bottom of the robe, which was filled by right-clicking the sphere, choosing to smooth the boundary, then left-clicking the sphere.

    With the object ready, I exported it as an STL file (File -> Export), a format which most if not all 3D printers can print with. For the printer we use at the Brooklyn Museum (3D Systems Cube v2), the STL file needed to be processed using their Cube Software, also a free download. Using that, I imported the STL file and clicked Heal to double-check the model’s watertightness. Since the model itself was fairly small, I also used the Orient & Scale tool to make it 260% bigger. In Settings, I removed the raft (the Cube uses a special glue that makes printing a platform raft unnecessary) and also removed supports since most of the statue probably wouldn’t need them. Finally, I centered it with the Center icon and hit Build. For simplicity, I built the final .cube file to a USB drive that I could just plug into the printer.

    The printer’s on-screen menu has incredibly clear and simple step-by-step directions on how to print, so I won’t repeat them here. Five hours later, the print was completed and looked close enough to be a handheld tactical map of the real McCoy, with only minor amount of overhanging plastic extrusion in areas near the bottom of the robe and under the raised arm.

    pleiads_comparison

    BONUS: We’re also releasing the STL files under a Creative Commons license for both the Double Pegasus and The Lost Pleiad which you can download and print on your own 3D printer:

    Download Double Pegasus (CC-BY 3.0) on Thingiverse
    Download The Lost Pleiad (CC-BY 3.0) on Thingiverse

    Author profile

    About David Huerta

    David Huerta joined the museum as a Web Developer in 2011. Aside from helping maintain and improve the museum's website and mobile apps, he experiments with new technologies to investigate their potential in the museum experience. Currently, he co-organizes Art Hack Day, a part-hackathon, part-happening which brings artists and hackers together for 48 hours to build a pop-up exhibition. Before arriving in New York, he was one of the founding members for HeatSync Labs, an Arizona hackerspace which brings makers, tinkerers, and the occasional futurist together to build things and teach others how to do the same.
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    Out of Africa, 1926: Malvina Hoffman and a Senegalese Soldier

    In his newly opened installation Rumination, Raw/Cooked artist Duron Jackson has included Senegalese Soldier(28.385), a remarkable work by the early-twentieth-century sculptor Malvina Hoffman.

    Placed in close proximity with Jackson’s Blackboard Paintings—abstracted aerial views of American prisons—Hoffman’s larger than life-sized bust portrait stands in for the historical black male body, and by extension, the slave trade. Jackson has created a compelling space in which to contemplate race and culture, and Senegalese Soldier has an important backstory. The Museum purchased it and Hoffman’s Martinque Woman (28.384, which was prominently featured in our recent exhibition Youth and Beauty: Art of the American Twenties) in 1928, almost immediately after they were finished. Both are absolutely exceptional works in Hoffman’s career for two reasons that I will explain after this background on the artist.

    Hoffman, Martinique Woman

    Malvina Hoffman (American, 1885-1966). Martinique Woman, 1928. Black metamorphic stone, 22 x 14 1/4 x 15 1/4 in. (55.9 x 36.2 x 38.7 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Dick S. Ramsay Fund, 28.384. © Estate of Malvina Hoffman

    If you’ve heard of Malvina Hoffman, you may have seen the famous photograph of her astride the shoulders of one of her monumental figures with a chisel in hand wearing her signature velvet tam on her head. Hoffman was undaunted in her pursuit of a career as a sculptor at a time when it was still an unusual one for women. She tapped her family’s close ties among New York’s cultural elite in order to achieve her goal, seeking lessons and critiques from several prominent New York sculptors. But Hoffman set her sights high and in 1910 took off for Paris with hopes of studying with the great Auguste Rodin—and she did, eventually, receiving critiques and earning status as an assistant. Although Hoffman never adopted his dynamic style, (Rodin’s bronzes suggest movement), she was inspired to pursue similar subjects, including lovers and dancers.

    The outbreak of World War I in 1914 forced Hoffman back to New York and changed her outlook on life and art. In 1919 she served as director of the National and Foreign Information Service of the Red Cross in New York and also made a life-altering trip through the Balkans with the American Relief Administration. Unable to happily continue her routine of work, in 1926 she embarked on a trip to North Africa to retune her eye through experiences which were entirely new to her.

    Hoffman, Senegalese Soldier

    Malvina Hoffman (American, 1885-1966). Senegalese Soldier, 1928. Black stone, 20 x 10 x 15 in. (50.8 x 25.4 x 38.1 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Dick S. Ramsay Fund, 28.385. © Estate of Malvina Hoffman

    Which leads us to the Senegalese Soldier.  Early on, in Tunisia, Hoffman traveled south from Tunis by train to Gabé where, on arrival, she encountered Senegalese troops under the command of a French colonial officer. Her later account is tinged with the language of exotification so common in Eurocentric descriptions of African places and people. Finding the features of the soldier “startlingly impressive,” Hoffman exercised her privilege as a westerner in the French colony to gain access to the soldiers whose physiognomy interested her—an arrangement only marginally redeemed by her interviews to determine their willingness to sit for her. Interestingly, however, in the clay model for Senegalese Soldier, Hoffman agreed to the man’s conditions that she never show the work in Africa nor ever associate his name with it.

    Hoffman thus began her focused attention on the portrayal of racial types—and that is the first reason the two Brooklyn works are exceptional. The second is that in producing the marbles in fine, black stone, she broke with her previous naturalistic style and adopted a monumentality and idealism in keeping with a broader aesthetic trend in the 1920s—one that celebrated and perfected physical presence. And herein lies the second reason for their exceptional status: these works constituted an effort by Hoffman to modernize her aesthetic.

    Hoffman Getty

    Malvina Hoffman, Les races humaines, Musée d'Ethnographie du Trocadero de Paris (November 1933). Malvina Hoffman papers, Research Library, The Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles (850042). © Estate of Malvina Hoffman

    Just how unusual these works are in her production has been obscured by their association with the much larger commission she undertook in 1930 for Chicago’s Field Museum. It involved the production of nearly 100 bronze sculptures of the “races of man” for a physical anthropology display similar to a type popular at the time. As Marianne Kinkel discusses in great detail in her publication Races of Mankind: The Sculptures of Malvina Hoffman (University of Illinois Press, 2011), these installations were underpinned by theories about fixed racial identity—based in everything from geography to hormonal patterns. Hoffman won the commission through her social connections and, for her part, ignored much of the current science in producing the works. As Kinkel explains, she rejected ideas about establishing racial types through “composites” of many individuals. She based most of her sculptures on anthropological photographs (she personally traveled only to Asia for the global project) and stated that racial identity was better defined by gesture and action.

    Her works for the commission are as photographic as bronzes can be. The differences between these literal works and Brooklyn’s two impressive heads did not stop her from exhibiting them together in several exhibitions, including one in Paris’s Trocadero Museum of Ethnology in 1933.

    Author profile

    About Terry Carbone

    Terry Carbone received her Masters in the History of Art from the University of Delaware, and her Doctorate from the CUNY Graduate Center. She has been on the curatorial staff of the Brooklyn Museum since 1985, and is now the Andrew W. Mellon Curator of American Art. She served as co-curator of the major exhibition "Eastman Johnson: Painting America", in 1999, and as co-author and volume editor of the accompanying exhibition catalogue of the same title, which was awarded the New York State Historical Associations' prestigious Henry Allen Moe Prize. She also served as project director for the innovative reinstallation of the Museum's American art galleries, which opened in 2001 as "American Identities: A New Look." More recently Terry completed the project to which she has devoted much of her tenure at the museum: serving as principal author of a two volume scholarly catalogue "American Paintings in the Brooklyn Museum: Artists Born by 1876." This publication was recently awarded the College Art Association's Alfred H. Barr Prize, presented each year for an especially distinguished museum publication on the history of art. Terry has now begun work on a major exhibition on the American 1920s.
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    Ready-to-Wear: An Eye on 20s Fashion

    First impressions of the exhibition Youth and Beauty: Art of the American Twenties might suggest that the only important article of clothing during the Jazz Age was the bathing suit.

    Self-Portrait with Rita by Thomas Hart Benton

    Thomas Hart Benton (American, 1889–1975). Self-Portrait with Rita, 1922. Oil on canvas, 49 x 39 3/8 in. (124.5 x 100 cm). National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Jack H. Mooney. © T. H. Benton and R. P. Benton Testamentary Trusts / UMB Bank Trustee / Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY. Photo: National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution / Art Resource, NY

    Twenties artists were drawn to swimmers because the new, revealing swimsuits—made of stretchy, clinging wool—allowed them to celebrate the modern body more openly. The new styles designed for women in the Twenties were tightly aligned with liberalized attitudes toward the body. To explore these shifts in style, I recently moderated a panel discussion held at the Museum with a panel of experts that included  Lisa Padovani, costume designer for HBO’s Boardwalk Empire; Jan Reeder, Consulting Curator for the Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art; and WWD photographer Kyle Ericksen. You can join in the discussion by taking a look at the video of the event.

    What might surprise you? During the twenties, there were not yet any influential American designers, and most American dress-makers supplying the new, ready-to-wear market relied on reports from Paris in magazines like Vogue and Vanity Fair. A revolution in underthings inspired and supported the essential re-design of dresses. The new, tubular dresses—with low waists and no darts at the bust—went hand-in-hand with the scrapping of the hourglass corset in favor of silky underthings and stretchy girdles. And hemlines, although newly short, had ups and downs over the course of the decade, and were cut in a variety of draped shapes. Who are the contemporary designers who are reviving 20s fashion ideas in their lines this spring? Take a look at the video and find out!!

    Author profile

    About Terry Carbone

    Terry Carbone received her Masters in the History of Art from the University of Delaware, and her Doctorate from the CUNY Graduate Center. She has been on the curatorial staff of the Brooklyn Museum since 1985, and is now the Andrew W. Mellon Curator of American Art. She served as co-curator of the major exhibition "Eastman Johnson: Painting America", in 1999, and as co-author and volume editor of the accompanying exhibition catalogue of the same title, which was awarded the New York State Historical Associations' prestigious Henry Allen Moe Prize. She also served as project director for the innovative reinstallation of the Museum's American art galleries, which opened in 2001 as "American Identities: A New Look." More recently Terry completed the project to which she has devoted much of her tenure at the museum: serving as principal author of a two volume scholarly catalogue "American Paintings in the Brooklyn Museum: Artists Born by 1876." This publication was recently awarded the College Art Association's Alfred H. Barr Prize, presented each year for an especially distinguished museum publication on the history of art. Terry has now begun work on a major exhibition on the American 1920s.
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    Proving a Point with Google Images

    When most of us think about the roaring twenties, we envision scenes of flappers cutting loose on the dance floor, bustling cities filling with new cars and buildings scraping the sky, Prohibition and citizens fighting for their rights.  Right?  Well, the interesting thing about Youth and Beauty, now on view, is the exhibition shows us that our visions of the decade ran counter to the twenties that artists chose to describe. As the exhibition’s curator, Terry Carbone, writes in the opening didactic:

    In the new realism that typified American art of the decade, liberated modern bodies resonate with classical ideals, the teeming modern city is rendered empty and silent, and still life is pared to an essentialized clarity.

    In creating an in-gallery interactive, the challenge was finding an activity that would highlight the disparity between what we’ve come to associate with decade and the idealized vision created by its artists.

    Google Images API

    What did the Jazz Age look like? Interactive asks visitors to make their own selection from an array of popular photographs to see how it compares to the imagery created by the American artists featured in Youth and Beauty.

    The resulting interactive uses the Google Images API as a way to show what’s in the popular imagination of four themes related to the show. A visitor searches for imagery on a theme and is asked to select an image from Google’s results; the selected image is displayed along side a related work from the exhibition and the interactive explores how the popular imagery delivered via Google differs from the artists’ depiction.

    Youth and Beauty iPad Kiosks

    Youth and Beauty interactive utilizes the Google Images API and runs on iPads embedded into a popular culture timeline.

    Given this is a live search, the results are not always perfectly accurate to the time period, but they are pretty close.  We’ve also tweaked it a bit to help the results gain a little more accuracy; turning on Google’s “safe search” and displaying only black and white imagery. The interactive runs on four iPads in the gallery where the devices are embedded into a popular culture timeline in the exhibition. You can also play with it on the web.

    Author profile

    About Shelley Bernstein

    Shelley is the Chief of Technology at the Brooklyn Museum where she works to further the Museum's community-oriented mission through projects including free public wireless access, web-enabled comment books, projects for mobile devices and putting the Brooklyn Museum collection online. She is the initiator and community manager of the Museum's initiatives on the social web. She organized Click! A Crowd-Curated Exhibition, Split Second: Indian Paintings, and GO: a community-curated open studio project. In 2010, Shelley was named one of the 40 Under 40 in Crain's New York Business and she's been featured in the New York Times. She can be found biking to work or driving '74 VW Super Beetle in Red Hook, Brooklyn with her dog Teddy. ::contact::
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    Recent Blog Posts

    Fund for African American Art: New Acquisition
    As many of you know, the Brooklyn Museum launched the Fund for African American Art a few years ago. This ambitious initiative, which was covered... read more.

    Replicating a 19th Century Statue with 21st Century Tech
    My first exposure to the world of 3D printing took place in 2009 approximately 500 feet under the Earth's surface in a former missile silo... read more.

    Out of Africa, 1926: Malvina Hoffman and a Senegalese Soldier
    In his newly opened installation Rumination, Raw/Cooked artist Duron Jackson has included Senegalese Soldier(28.385), a remarkable work by... read more.

    Ready-to-Wear: An Eye on 20s Fashion
    First impressions of the exhibition Youth and Beauty: Art of the American Twenties might suggest that the only important article of clothing... read more.

    Proving a Point with Google Images
    When most of us think about the roaring twenties, we envision scenes of flappers cutting loose on the dance floor, bustling cities filling... read more.

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    "Do not look like that, Cora I have done my best, and I do I paint and that is what I do... you know, you know, Cora; we have known each other since our childhood - O for the days of Vermont the summers of joy and fun when we were but children and our hopes were high - and my mind breaks and my heart weakens when I see you and the children now and that I cannot put food on the table give you the things you need I can paint, Cora - oh for the life of me, I can - but I do not know how to haggle, how to beat the mind of those who undervalue my work I walk in the world an innocent, strange they call me, Cora I try, I try - O I try I paint plaques and decorations if necessary - but the money, the money eludes me it is only paint that sticks; and I can paint and that is all I know and that I can do when the agony blows like cruel storms in my mind You know, I try, O you know my spirit nearly breaks Cora, Cora, Cora I have done my best, I do to put bread and meat on the table for the children and you but money eludes me, it eludes me I paint and that is what I do - you know, you know, Cora Do not look like that, Cora "
    By RajArumugam

    "I sat by the lake and Martha and Helen walked in the water till it reached their hips then they turned back and walked back The boat’s prow pointed towards the other side and I looked down at the water before me What was I thinking? I do not know; even now sometimes I wonder what was my thought and what about Martha and Helen? all of us in that moment faceless, restrained like the two trees behind me bare, cut of their branches stunted, deprived of their growth all of us going nowhere like the boat "
    By RajArumugam

    "in my lodge in the woods in the quiet and away from the clamor with the silence that hangs in the mist just perhaps an occasional rabbit or a creature as curious to see a strange making like home to the creature, but strange; and then an occasional visitor; but mostly seclusion, and quiet hovering over basic needs and simple desires and so let the lazy days be and the life in the midst of trees and regularity, and what nature offers me "
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