Hobart’s MONA rewrites the rules of a museum

The Museum of Old and New Art may be unconventional and even controversial as it doesn’t seek to just educate or enlighten but is happy to let the visitor discover and ruminate, writes Kalpana Sunder

Gold coloured tables inlaid with artefacts and cutlery,and chairs on blue carpets in MONA. PHOTOS BY AUTHOR

Randy Polumbo’s meditative Grotto for MONA

I am sitting inside a dream world. A kitschy ‘Grotto’ created by American installation artist Randy Polumbo, with gleaming aluminium panels on the ceiling, blown and moulded glass, and LED lights are like a page out of a children’s fairy tale, with reflections like glow worms, and silver couches, where you can sit down and take a zillion selfies.

MONA (Museum of Old and New Art ) in Hobart, Tasmania. Australia’s island state located within the Moorilla winery on the Berriedale peninsula in North Hobart, which opened ten years ago, is the lovechild of eccentric millionaire David Walsh, who made his fortunes in casinos and gambling. Recently, it reopened after a major overhaul. MONA is Australia’s largest privately funded museum, and is one man’s unique vision that has made Tasmania a destination for art lovers.

“Since he could not get requisite permissions to build his museum in this place and spoil the landscape, he decided to build a subterranean museum,” explains our local guide. MONA is not your conventional museum. It has been called subversive, weird, ‘adult Disneyland’ and many other things. MONA’s quirky website says it could be “somewhere people can come to say ‘not sure about the art but the architecture is amazing’; or a ‘really elaborate marketing stunt.” But it’s been estimated that this museum adds $ 100 million every year to this state’s economy and has been described by Lonely Planet as “rousing Hobart from its slumber.”

We start off with a hearty breakfast of Huevos Rancheros with fried eggs and black beans, at MONA’s Source restaurant served on quirky ‘living tables’ lined with moss and herbs, and non-living tables with artefacts and artworks inside, and gold chairs on luxurious blue carpets.

Descending down three floors into the ground through spiral staircases, with sides carved from 240-million-year-old sandstone, we reach the reception area of the museum. I am guided by the mobile guide O on my phone, which uses GPS and provides information on the works of art and comes with a love/hate button; unlike a conventional museum, there are no sign boards or information displayed. You can even save your path through the museum and download it later from the website.

A long, narrow pathway leads to a unique work of art called ‘Bit. Fall’ by German artist, Julius Popp — a two-storey waterfall with a computer-controlled nozzle that sends words down in the water stream from real-time Google searches.

It refers to the mobile technology world we live in, where we are bombarded by information and inputs all the time. Random words appear in the water for a moment, from terrorism to climate and then tumble down, as we watch. We walk into a line of galleries, with recycled hardwood flooring, suspended catwalks, and cavernous spaces with dim lighting, meant to simulate Egyptian tombs, where antiquities brush shoulders with contemporary, even provocative art. I like the fact that this museum is completely display-oriented as I look into my app or the displays, and rarely notice the people around.

Walking through SILOAM — a labyrinthine tunnel with music playing, we step into the new Pharos Wing which comes with a new Tapas bar with great views from the window.

In one large space is the work of Jean Tinguely, the famous Swiss artist known for his working installations that clang and clank. His ‘Memorial to the Sacred wind’ is in motion every hour, with a cacophony of sound.

I wait in the queue to walk into an angular metal walkway to see Richard Wilson’s 20:50. I don’t know what I am seeing at first as it looks like reflections down a cavernous space. The British sculptor filled a room with glossy recycled engine oil, conceived after spending weeks by a swimming pool on holiday. The glossy and viscous surface mirrors the architecture around and it creates an illusion of being suspended somewhere, floating in space. But apparently, everyone was not impressed. I read a review on Trip Advisor that says that “this was just hype and making you line up for a long time to just look at some black water.” Another surreal experience is walking through into purple and blue LED-lighted corridors and putting on white socks to walk into ‘Event Horizon’ by American light artist James Turrell.

Walking around in the light-bathed space challenges our perceptions about space and depth, with no sense of where the edge is. We try touching the walls, putting our feet gingerly down the edges until the strobe lighting effects challenge it even more. Turrell has said, “With no object no image and no focus, what are you looking at?”

MONA has its share of objects and displays that are highly controversial like Cloaca Professional by Wim Delvoye, a poo machine that replicates the human digestive system, made from tubes and bags, that is fed like a human being and excretes once a day. It’s been described by many as ‘pure crap’! There are hundred and fifty-one porcelain sculptures of the female sexual organ by Greg Taylor, displayed on a wall and an all-white library by Wilfredo Prieto — a collection of 6,000 entirely blank white books. Old rubs shoulders with the new nonchalantly. There are cuneiform tablets, a fragment from a temple from Egypt in carved granite from 332 BC, and pottery painted by Pablo Picasso with the motif of an owl, juxtaposed against contemporary art. I loved Sydney Nolan’s ‘Snake’ lining a wall created with crayon and water-based dyes, inspired by Aboriginal mythology. This artwork was created by famous Australian artist Sir Sidney Nolan, between 1970 and 1972 — 1,620 panels arranged so that the images on each panel like a bird or a flower, form a larger image of a writhing snake.

‘Fat Car’ by Erwin Wurm, an Austrian artist is a red, pudgy Porsche car of metal and fibreglass that bulges obscenely — it apparently points to the excessiveness of modern living that contributes to obesity. I can’t help but sing along when I walk into a small room where on the monitor is playing an installation called Queen by Candice Breitz, where 30 people from all walks of life sing simultaneously songs of Madonna on a loop — they are all fans of the pop star. I have to confess that many times, I really did not understand what I was seeing, or was disoriented, and had to Google it later to understand it completely, but what MONA did to me was made me think, ponder, reflect and sometimes made me laugh with its irreverent or quirky art.

And that for me is a museum with a difference — loose and playful, which doesn’t seek to just educate or enlighten, but is happy to let the visitor discover and ruminate. In spite of its unconventional approach, it’s also a family-friendly space with children running around. There is even an artwork by Tom Otterness made of bronze, outside which doubles up as a playground. MONA ultimately makes you question what is art — its sensory impact and bold energy are enjoyable even if it does feel like Alice in Wonderland.