KMA's new director Todd D. Smith wants to pull the museum into your life
by Adrienne Martini
A small revolution is taking place beneath Richard Jolley's fanciful glass sculptures.
There are visible signs that a fresh manifesto has been written. In the dim, mostly subterranean KMA offices, which sit, cave-like, in the museum's bottom floor, the detritus of construction can be witnessed. A thin film of dust covers cubicles. Tools and a vacuum cleaner wait for hands to use them. In some circles, it could be a modern art installation. But at its core, the work-in-progress is a sign of things to come, and that a fresh but familiar face will be revealed once all of the debris is cleared.
The man responsible for the renovation is Todd D. Smith, KMA's new director who moved to Knoxville from Fargo, N.D., where he was president and C.E.O. of The Plains Art Museum. Smith, however, is not a midwesterner by birth. His roots are in Richmond, Va., and he's hopped from Duke, where he got his undergrad degree, to Indiana University for his master's, to the Dayton Art Institute in Ohio, and the Mint Museum in Charlotte, N.C., where he cut his working teeth.
For four months now—Smith started October 1, 2002—he has been pondering the museum's direction. While former director Richard Ferrin, who resigned in 2000 and is currently the president of Salem International University in West Virginia, was responsible for putting the museum on firm financial footing, Smith is in the hot seat for making it relevant and vital to all Knoxvillians, not just those who have art history degrees.
Smith's approach to making this change occur relies on his four I's, which are to make the museum inviting, innovative, interactive, and inspiring. A large part of this Herculean task also rests on the shoulders of the current crop of shakers who are reinvigorating downtown. Smith faced a similar situation in Fargo.
"Unlike Knoxville, which has a metropolitan area, Fargo is just Fargo. Everything else is just prairie and Arctic tundra," Smith says, with a chuckle. "Actually, Fargo was also redoing its downtown and we were active in helping the downtown become active, because we needed the downtown to be flourishing so that we as a museum could be flourishing.
"[Knoxville] really seems on the cusp of something. There's so much talk about this moment in Knoxville's history that, essentially, it's the time to think hard and to get it right. All this discussion about downtown is incredible—not just for the museum but also for me as an individual, someone who loves the idea of a vibrant downtown that attracts people to live and to work and to play. No great city can survive without an active downtown."
KMA's location has long been both a boon and an obstacle. From downtown, only the backside of this imposing white marble building can be seen. But its front door is also problematic, since there is no sightline between it and campus. Smith sees this as a hurdle that can be overcome not with a change in layout, but with a reimagining of concept.
"I've never been here when the park has been open and active," he says. "Physically, we're in a strange position because our front door faces away from downtown—which is totally understandable from a structural point of view, because there's a railroad track that runs right behind the building—but conceptually, we need to be more attractive to people who go to the park. People have to feel like it's easy to get to the museum.
"I love our building. I think it's incredible. But to a lot of people it's this imposing white monolith that doesn't invite people in. We can't change our building. It's a great piece of architecture. However, then we have to change our image in the community so that it's not necessarily about the building, it's about what happens inside of it.
"We just don't do a great job of reaching out into people's lives and making them understand that art is just not the Mona Lisa, but that it's everything that surrounds you that's visual every day. I think that's the role that museums need to play going forward, to be more relevant in people's daily lives."
But what won't be happening inside the monolith are the big-ticket shows of the past. Smith's irritation is almost visible when asked what show he'd love to see if money were no object.
"If we put so much concern on the exhibition on view and we have four galleries that have different shows on view, then people only want to come here if there's something special. All of a sudden you're buying in to the blockbuster mentality of 'I'm going to go see Escher. I'm going to go see Rodin. I'm going to go see Chihuly. What's the next blockbuster?,' he says.
"Blockbusters aren't happening that much anymore with museums of this size because they're not available, they're way too expensive, and there's not as much of a return from our point of view. It doesn't build a sustainable audience. For us, it's almost asking the exact opposite question: if money weren't an object, what would I want this museum to be? I would want it to be those four things: to be inviting, inspirational, innovative and interactive. [In addition], we would have a much larger space for our exploratory gallery. So you would have a family-friendly environment when people could come in and understand how art is made, understand the importance of art and not feel overwhelmed.
"Yes, we'll still put on incredible exhibitions with beautiful objects and we'll still do shows about cutting edge contemporary art, but we need to do more than just have people come into our building and stand and look. We need to infiltrate into their lives so that they think about us less as a building and more as a concept."
Fortunately, the KMA has stayed economically viable during this downturn, otherwise all of the talk about the KMA of the future would be subsumed under discussions about the museum's survival. Most of the credit for this rests on the shoulder's of KMA's supporters. Eighty-five percent of donors continue to give at the same level or have upped their monetary gifts. The museum's endowment is also invested "extremely conservatively," according to Smith. While this meant that great profits weren't reaped during the late '90s boom, it does mean that losses were minimal when the boom burst.
The biggest factor, however, may be museum's approach to its yearly budgets, which mandate that the next year's outlay be five percent below the current year's.
"Let's say on one fiscal year we bring in a million dollars in revenue," Smith explains. "The next year, we can only budget 95 percent of that. We're not spending beyond our means. It is a very difficult plan to live within—but it's one thing that really has allowed us to continue doing the things we're doing. We still operate. We still invite guests in. We also are looking at putting another roof on. We've been able over the last three years to come out with a surplus every year. And we're projecting one for this year—not a huge one but one that at least says we are living within our means."
This plan has put the kibosh on any grand expansion plans, for the time being. Instead, Smith has focused on how to better use the current space. Future plans could possible included re-opening the café, but current dollar woes make it unlikely to happen before the end of the year, despite the fact that it could provide just the avenue for building the museum's clientele that Smith advocates.
"The café has always been an issue because of financial concern—it hasn't made money—and at a time when you're cutting expenses. But, at the same time, to me, it's an opportunity to get people in the building to linger, to have a good time. Our Alive After Five concerts are so popular because they do that. It breaks down the perception that the museum is cold and stodgy but rather it's a place to have fun. I'd love to see a vibrant café, where people can just talk and be.
"Someone called a few weeks ago and asked if he could wear jeans to the museum. To me, that is such an unfortunate question to have to ask. But I think it signals a complete misperception of what an art museum is."
It's hard to tell what the KMA will be in five years. What is certain is that it will look and feel differently than it does now. And this change is spearheaded by a passionate, energetic art lover who has learned a thing or two from his past jobs.
In Fargo, Smith decided that the Plains Art Museum would sponsor a night at the minor league ballpark. Everyone who bought a ticket to that night's game would receive free admission to the museum's Ansel Adams show.
"Five people out of about 3,000 came in and redeemed their coupon," he says. "We had one person come to the museum and ask for his Ansel Adams bobblehead doll. It's like when WKRP dropped the turkeys—but you have to take chances. Some things will work, like KMA's family day, which has been a huge success. It doesn't matter why [people] are here once they're here. Half of those who come have never been to the museum before. That is what we should be striving for all of the time."
February 27, 2003 * Vol. 13, No. 9
© 2003 Metro Pulse
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Art Has Four I's