| Index | 6 reviews in total |
19 out of 19 people found the following review useful:
Funds: 2, passion: 10, result: 10, 23 July 2009
![]()
Author:
Chris Knipp from Berkeley, California
The Vogels are a couple of modest means but focused passion who
assembled a world-class art collection buying small, affordable works
but choosing wisely and with love and living for art. They married in
1960 and collected from the ideal vantage point of New York City. He
was a postal worker, sorting mail at night, and she was a librarian in
Brooklyn Heights. They used his salary for the purchases and hers for
the rent of their small one-bedroom rent-controlled apartment and other
living expenses. He had the expertise, but she caught on; and they are
inseparable. Both were open-minded and excited by what they found. They
focused on minimal, conceptual, and verbal art because that was what
they could afford. Abstract expressionism was fading and Pop Art was
rising They were "greedy," someone says (a Who's Who of artists appear
on screen to talk abut the couple, who were famous in the New York art
world by 1970). "You like to buy four at a time," an artist says. "No,
forty," jokes Herbie.
They were single-minded, and their apartment filled up. They have cats
and tropical fish and turtles but never had children. After work they
got together and went to galleries, or visited artists, from whom they
bought directly. Most of the artists they bought from were unknown then
and desperately needed money. The Vogels had the same dedication and
indifference to necessary poverty the artists had. And theirs has been
a life in art as rich as any artist's.
When they finally called Christo and Jeanne-Claude, she picked up the
phone and said "It's the Vogels! We're going to pay the rent this
month." But when they came and heard the prices of sketches of the
coming Christo project, Valley Curtain, Herb said, "Oh, we came too
late!" They were priced to fund the couple's costly environmental
artworks. But when Christo and Jeanne-Claude went to Colorado to finish
Valley Curtain, they gave the Vogels a drawing in exchange for taking
care of their cat, Gladys while they were away.
The Vogels collected work by, among others, Chuck Close, Pat Steir,
Lida Benglis, Robert Mangold, Sol Lewitt, Donald Judd, Carl Andre,
Richard Long, Julian Schnabel, Jeff Koons, and Richard Tuttle. All
these artists' work eventually have come to be worth megabucks, but the
Vogels would sooner have amputated a limb as sell an artwork.
Speculating is fine, and may help the artists, Herb says, but not for
them. Not all the artists they collected are famous, but they love them
all.
Their first Lewitt was tall, and they traded it for a horizontal one;
he must have delivered both, because they liked to buy smaller works
that they could take with them in a taxi. And they kept everything
somewhere in the apartment.
Filmmaker Sasaki has done an excellent job of assembling voices. Sylvia
Mangold, Chuck Close Lynda Benglis, Pat Steir, Robert Barry, Lucio
Pozzi and Lawrence Weiner are some of the main artists who talk about
the Vogels' passion and skill and friendship. There are also museum
curators. The film makes clear the Vogels are famous collectors,
chronicled and celebrated in many articles (books will surely come). It
may take some time for this to sink in. This cute little old couple --
they are old now, the long necked, erect woman with her big round
glasses, the little man hunched forward, focusing on an art work he
wants like a beagle pointing a bird, unswerving, obsessed. They're
sweet, but they're relentless, a life force. Chuck Close calls them
"the mascots of the New York art world." Surprisingly, there is plenty
of period footage of them from earlier decades, gallery-going, being
interviewed, being greeted at openings by artists or gallery owners as
honored guests. At the post office Herbie revisits (he retired in 1980)
we learn he kept his fame and passion secret and found nobody who
wanted to talk about art there anyway.
Many museums sought the collection and the couple always said no. When
they didn't say no to the National Gallery in Washington (which they
had visited on their honeymoon) curators came calling a few years ago
(the film is a bit vague about the time-line) and they agreed to
donate. Only to consider this offer, the National Gallery had to
catalogue the collection's over 2000 pieces, and this was impossible in
the limited space, so the art works had to be crated piece by piece and
shipped to Washington for evaluation. It too five giant moving vans to
transport the collection from the little one-bedroom apartment. It was
packed so tight. The National's rule (a reason for the Vogels'
confidence) is that donations it accepts can never be deaccessioned;
hence eventually the museum decided it could only accept half the
works. So a program has been set up to travel the other works around
the fifty states. This is called the Vogel 50x50 program.
The film also shows Herbie and Dorhty together in many scenes that
convey their keen memory, precise knowledge, and love of the works
they've collected. You see Herb doing his beagle thing, zeroing in on a
small early John Chamberlain piece and explaining why it's every bit as
representative and good as a larger Chamberlain and how unusual that
is.
The donation cleared room in the jammed apartment so the Vogels could
move around a bit, and as the curator thought, acquire a little more
furniture. The museum pays them an annuity to keep them financially
secure. But instead of using that to buy furniture, they just went out
and bought more art, though Dorothy did buy a laptop so she can email.
In a way Herb and Dorothy are like Christo and Jeanne-Claude. The
finances have certainly been different, but both are couples who have
lived spartanly and basically put every available penny into art. There
is much to inspire artists and collectors in these two extraordinary
and dedicated couples.
10 out of 10 people found the following review useful:
Ars Gratia Artis, 27 September 2009
![]()
Author:
druid333-2 from United States
To use the old Latin phrase (translation:art for art's sake). This is an open book look at two of the modern/postmodern art world's patron saints, Herb & Dorthy Vogel,who boasts of having the largest collection of modern art (all confined in a one bedroom apartment in New York City,yet). We get to know a bit about Herb & Dorthy (Herb is a retired postal worker,while Dorthy is a retired librarian),a couple who were wed in 1960,and spent most,if not all of their spare time in small galleries,perusing works by up & coming artists & purchasing works that they knew would fit in their modest trappings (an amusing scene shows Herb & Dorthy mulling over a Sol LeWitt piece that was just a bit too tall for their apartment,resulting in their exchanging it for something a bit more compact by LeWitt). Over a period of thirty years (or so),they would amass thousands of paintings,sculptures & conceptual pieces,representing the cream of the art world (or so they figured). First time producer/director,Megumi Sasaki crafts a portrait of two people,in love with each other & art (they're rarely apart from one another for too long---a scene at an artists opening depicts a somewhat jealous Dorthy getting her dander up when she finds Herb talking to a woman across the room from her). The documentary is studded with interviews with what has to be a "who's who" of modern art (Robert Barry,Pat Stier,Richard Tuttle,Christo & Jeanne-Claude,Sol LeWitt,etc.),as well as vintage film footage of the New York art scene in the 1950's,thru the 1970's & beyond. A "must see" for patrons of the arts. Not rated,but contains nothing to offend.
10 out of 12 people found the following review useful:
Two Great People, One Exceptional Film. This Is A Must See For Anyone Who Even Remotely Loves Art!, 28 March 2009
![]()
Author:
Michael McGonigle (mmcgonigle@philamuseum.org) from Philadelphia, PA.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
If you were to see Herb and Dorothy Vogel walking down the streets of
Manhattan today, you would probably think they were just an ordinary
old Jewish couple on their way to the Carnegie Deli for some lean
brisket. You would probably be right.
But if you had seen them walking down the streets of lower Manhattan in
So-Ho or Tribeca sometime in the early 1970's (very unhip areas back
then) you would have been very puzzled. Why would this tiny couple
(they are both short) be walking around these rough neighborhoods full
of punk clubs, drug addicts, scary leather bars, empty lofts and all
kinds of disreputable people and why aren't they scared?
The reason is because they were probably on their way to see some
emerging artist in his workspace or to attend some offbeat gallery show
of minimalist art. Later you might have seen them heading back uptown
on the subway or in a taxi with packages of art. You would have
thought, well, this is just strange enough to be typical in New York.
Here, you would be wrong.
Herb and Dorothy Vogel are anything but typical. He was a worker for
the US Post Office, with only a couple of years of high school for
education, but he was a voracious reader of art books and an overall
intelligent autodidact. She was a highly educated woman with a graduate
degree who made a fine career working for the New York Public Library.
But, living frugally on her salary, the Vogels were able to use his
salary to buy art. What kind of art? Well, mostly minimalist art from
some known, but mostly from unknown artists. What were their criteria
for purchase? There was only one, they simply had to like it. That's
it.
So, by going to every art show, gallery opening or loft display they
were ever invited to and paying for their purchases in cash whenever
possible (I know the usually cash strapped artists appreciated that),
over the years Herb and Dorothy Vogel amassed a collection of art
unprecedented in its breadth and scope.
Keeping it all in their tiny rent controlled apartment between their
cats, turtles and large fish tanks, they managed to get works from
everyone from Sol Lewitt to Andy Goldsworthy. They got photo proofs
from Chuck Close and small drawings by Richard Tuttle. They got some
drawing designs of the Christo and Jean Claude project Valley Curtain
for the price of simply watching the artist's cat while they were away
working on a project. Herb and Dorothy seemed to know everyone in the
New York art world and everyone knew them.
The film Herb And Dorothy is a documentary from writer-director Megumi
Sasaki that I just saw tonight at the Philadelphia Film
Festival/Cinefest 2009 and it was a joy. Herb and Dorothy Vogel, along
with the director were in attendance at the screening and that made
this an even more special night.
It was great hearing Herb and Dorothy talk about the art that they like
to collect because it is very difficult art for most other people. Face
it, most people only like representational art. They want their
mountains to look like mountains and their dogs playing poker to look
like dogs playing poker.
But the Vogels seemed to be naturally drawn to works that simply had
line, or color, or texture, or shape or they just liked the concept of
the work the artist was trying to articulate.
What makes this film so wonderful and I ultimately hope broadening for
others is their simple explanations for why they liked certain things
over others and their advice to follow your instincts in what you like
when looking at art.
There is an unsavory reverse snobbery that goes on when it comes to the
general public and their appreciation of abstract, minimal or
conceptual art. Since the works are frequently not immediately
recognizable as definite objects, many in the general public thinks
that the whole world of modern art is just one big scam.
Many a time I have watched someone walk into a Modern and Contemporary
gallery at a quality museum, take a look at a work by Sol Lewitt or
Barnett Newman and then say loudly (so everyone else can hear), "What's
this? It's just big colored lines on a wall? My kid could have painted
this!" Well, first of all, that's not true and secondly, the loathsome
spawn from your ignorant loins didn't paint it.
This is just a form of acting superior to the work and the artist (and
by extension all those who like this kind of art) by pretending to be
sophisticated enough to not be taken in by simple pictures made from
colored lines or abstract shapes. I want to grab these people and smack
them until they open their minds a little bit.
But the Vogels put that kind of snobbery to shame by simply being open,
friendly and honest about what they like, what they don't like and why.
Furthermore, they state their thoughts in friendly, easily
understandable terms that do not require a degree in art to comprehend.
I wish I could be more like them.
Maybe the film Herb and Dorothy will be a corrective to this
deficiency. I certainly hope so. Herb Vogel says it best when he states
that he just likes these works because they are beautiful to him and
beauty alone is enjoyable. A work of art doesn't need to be anything
more than that.
According to the film, they have donated their collection to The
National Gallery in Washington so every American can now see these
great works of art, which also makes the Vogels the very definition of
a Mensch.
2 out of 2 people found the following review useful:
Art Collecting As Love Story, 20 November 2011
![]()
Author:
madinpursuit from United States
In an era when hoarders are seen as sideshow freaks, Herb and Dorothy Vogel are hoarders with heart... and a sharp aesthetic. Herb and Dorothy wanted to be artists. Instead, the postal worker and librarian filled their Brooklyn apartment with the best of American contemporary art, amassing nearly 5000 pieces, which they have now donated to the National Gallery. I like this documentary because it is a love story. Herb and Dorothy are an intimate team, who share a deep passion. They collect by "adopting" artists and supporting their work not only through purchases but through interest and enthusiasm. They give collectors a good name. They give humans a good name.
1 out of 1 people found the following review useful:
Eclectic and Wonderful!, 14 August 2011
![]()
Author:
Mike B from Canada
This documentary reviews the eclectic life of an art collector couple in New York City. They're a wonderful couple who devote their spare time to collecting art. And as one of the trailers mentioned "you don't have to be Rockefeller to buy art". This couple is now retired and had normal jobs she was a librarian and he worked for the post office but no children. They loaded up their rent-controlled apartment in Manhattan with the art they loved. I can't say that I was enamoured by the art they accumulated but everyone has their own tastes! They didn't do this for the money either; they donated their collection to the National Art Gallery in Washington which is free to the public. This is a truly life affirming film about real people with a passion for the art world.
1 out of 1 people found the following review useful:
inspiring, even if you don't "get" modern art, 7 June 2010
![]()
Author:
Roland E. Zwick (magneteach@aol.com) from United States
Minimalism in art is clearly a matter of personal taste - one either
loves it or loathes it, "gets" it or doesn't - but what cannot be
debated is the influence Herbert and Dorothy Vogel have had on its
cultivation over the past half century. Not as artists themselves, mind
you - their own dabbling in it proved to be both unproductive and
short-lived - but as the most famous patrons and backers of those who
create the actual works.
Though not wealthy themselves, Herb, a drab, colorless postal worker by
day and an obsessive art maven by night, and his equally passionate
wife Dorothy, have managed, over the course of five decades, to amass
the world's greatest collection of minimalist and conceptual art -
close to five thousand pieces in all. Almost from the day they first
met in 1960, the two have been scouring the Manhattan art scene,
constantly on the lookout for works to purchase and artists to
champion.
And speaking of minimalism, director Megumi Sasaki provides relatively
few biographical details about the couple, preferring instead to
concentrate on their work as collectors and the impact their intense
passion and love for art have had on the scene. Sasaki relies primarily
on interviews - with both the Vogels themselves and the artists whose
lives and works they've influenced - to paint his portrait of the
couple.
As a film, "Herb and Dorothy" doesn't always make for the most riveting
of viewing, seeing as much of the artwork they're fawning over is -
let's be perfectly honest about it - more than a trifle preposterous.
Indeed, you might even have trouble suppressing an irreverent giggle
from time to time as you examine some of the pieces. But, as subjects
for the camera, the Vogels convey such a down-home warm, generous and
wise aura and presence that it's hard to be all that cynical about it.
| Plot summary | Ratings | Awards |
| External reviews | Official site | Plot keywords |
| Main details | Your user reviews | Your vote history |