I had heard some buzz about the Indianapolis Museum of Art (IMA) being open for AAM members on Tuesday and looked forward to seeing the new space. It wasn’t until later that I noticed the $45 price tag attached to the special IMA tour for AAM members. My perturbation was assuaged when I noticed an understated message posted on a bulletin board at the convention center. It noted that 47 AAM visitors could sign up to be bussed to the new IMA on Tuesday afternoon for a rushed one-hour tour of the building at no cost.

I tend to glory in free and cheap things and shun events or items that have a large price tag. I shop at thrift stores and garage sales, I refuse to attend a concert charging more that $15, and I hit the bargain matinees at the theaters. This got me thinking about a phrase that was repeated over and over again by IMA’s Director of Institutional Advancement and Chairman of the Board of Governors at a Monday AAM session: “Your heart is where you spend your money” (as strange derivation of “You value what you pay for”). They were touting this phrase as justification to have everyone spend money at/on the IMA - the public, the government, corporations, etc. This was also used as justification for the IMA’s newly instituted admission fee.

Another rationale for the admission price was brought about by findings from their surveys conducted at the mall. When people were asked why they didn’t visit the museum, a common response was, “It’s too expensive.” This was a misunderstanding since prior to the renovation, there had been no charge to visit the museum. The IMA took this to mean that since the public assumed there was a fee to enter the museum, they may as well institute one. The number of times the phrase “Your heart is where you spend your money” popped up made it sound as if the IMA staff were trying to convince themselves that the public would love the museum since they had to pay for it as opposed to the public gladly paying because they value art.

I value a good art experience, but I shudder at the idea of a monetary measuring stick by which everyone must stand before they gain admittance. There are hundreds of arguments for and against museum admittance fees, but I tend to favor free. To give the IMA credit, Thursdays are free as is parking. I do take issue with the $7 adult entry fee this year since there are only three of the ten collections currently on view - the American, Native American, and European Collections. The remaining seven collections will be opening on a rolling schedule through 2005 and 2006. You can pay full price to see 30% of the museum. That’s like tempting me with a juicy 16 oz. steak, and after paying for it I’m given the gristle and bone.

When our bus arrived at the IMA, we were greeted by a red carpet (that happened to have been left out the previous night for the important guests). I had never been to the IMA before because it had been closed for renovation since my arrival in Indiana last year. The first thing that struck me about the IMA was not the new addition, but the grounds. The museum is housed on 26 acres of lush lawns and thick wooded groves. The land previously belonged to J.K. Lilly Jr., the Indianapolis businessman, collector, and philanthropist, and still contains his 22-room mansion. I almost broke from the AAM pack to wander off through the trees and grass, but a miserable, cold wind was blowing and I was ill-dressed.

The Indianapolis Museum of Art

The new addition to the IMA was designed by Jonathan Hess of Indianapolis. The IMA board never seriously considered other architects. They wanted a local with museum experience, and they found that in Hess. He designed the Eiteljorg Museum of American Indians and Western Art, the Indiana Basketball Hall of Fame, and the addition to The Children’s Museum of Indianapolis. Where other museums have been hiring world heavy-weights like Santiago Calatrava, Zaha Hadid, Daniel Libeskind, and Yoshio Taniguchi to re-envision their spaces, the IMA played it safe. Safe and cheap.

“I’m always a little concerned when architects put themselves first in the priority stream,” Hess says. “All of a sudden, the architecture becomes the art. I see our job as simply bringing some grace and beauty to the presentation.” Heaven forbid that architecture be seen as art. True, the IMA does not specialize in modern or contemporary art, so it is not a mandate that they push the limits of the architectural field, but it would be nice if they were within a mile of the envelope’s edge. My initial impression was that the building could nestle easily into a business park and be right at home. It has a clean, corporate, safety to its lines and structure. The landscaping surrounds and outshines the building leading me to envision it as elaborate offices for the park ranger.

Once inside, Lawrence A. O’Connor, the IMA’s interim CEO, sped us through the galleries (making sure that we knew of the gift shop and Puck’s restaurant for future purchases - heart and money, heart and money…). The galleries are what you would expect of a general art museum - boxy, right angles, etc. As someone who has had to wrestle with “daring” architecture, I can appreciate the simplicity of the space. There didn’t seem to be any poorly placed fire alarms or light switches (my pet peeve). There were some fairly large windows on the gallery walls that I’m sure will cause some consternation when positioning light sensitive works (which is just about everything). Generally, though, the building creates unimposing spaces in which to position art. I like it when architecture creates options for art instead of problems.

Overall, the IMA is not trying anything special. It’s trying to be just another museum. They have created a building with a smattering of landmark works, rooms of average works by known artists, a good regional showing, a generic and cheesy gift shop, and a Puck’s (which museums don’t have a Puck’s these days?). I just can’t help but feel disappointed when the $74 million could have been used to create a museum unique to Indianapolis. Instead, it was used to support the status quo.

Sidenote: Don’t get me started on their commissioned works. Yikes.