ART REVIEW : A SINKING FEELING AT BOAT SHOW

Supporters of art and of the La Jolla Museum of Contemporary Art are asking why the museum organized its present exhibition, “Fine Tuning: Sailing Today.” Supported by a substantial budget, whose amount the museum declines to disclose, and scheduled to run for an unusually long period (nine instead of a customary six weeks), the show is obviously a major effort.

But are sailing ships art?

There are good reasons for the museum to have undertaken the exhibit. Exhibition of and education about contemporary design have long been part of the museum’s defined mission. Regularly it modestly exhibits examples of contemporary design, especially chairs and lighting. Some years ago it organized and sent on tour the well-remembered, although not critically well-regarded, “Italian Design Today.” Earlier, there was a significant exhibition devoted to the modern chair.

Nautical design is an appropriate interest for a museum in a major port where the Navy remains a dominant presence and much recreation is focused on the ocean and the bays. Moreover, the exhibition coincides with the 1987 America’s Cup elimination trials, which began this week off Fremantle, Australia.

The museum wants, and has a responsibility, to broaden its support in the community by appealing to and seeking support from constituencies who do not usually visit it. I suspect, however, that yachting is an even more specialized interest than contemporary art.

Other reasons for the exhibition are the fact that this is the first time that yacht design has been featured in the context of a museum of contemporary art, that the staff has an interest in doing such an exhibition and expertise about the subject, and that it has support among the museum’s trustees and the community for doing it.

Despite these ostensible and public justifications, a big “why?” remains.

Perhaps the objects in the exhibition and the educational materials available will answer the question.

Stars and Stripes ‘83, a 12-meter racing yacht with a mast pointing 90 feet into the sky, is an impressive invitation installed outside the museum. An experimental hydrofoil nearby is noticeably less dramatic.

Immediately inside the lobby is a one-third scale test model of a 12-meter racing boat. In the west lobby are other boats and models. The exhibition includes, as well, drawings, blueprints, photographs, articles of clothing and examples of marine hardware and gear whose purposes are mysteries to general visitors.

Wall texts, often in an arcane vocabulary, do not fully explain the significance of what is being exhibited, and labels merely name objects. A modest brochure with an essay by Chief Curator Ronald Onorato is also available for 50 cents.

Such materials inform us that the objects exhibited should be appreciated for their virtues as sculpture and that “marine designers use their visual creativity to enhance the essence of all cutting-edge yacht design: speed.”

The truth is, then, that aesthetics are appreciated only insofar as they help yachtsmen win races. Admittedly, however, a couple of keels and some sails do resemble contemporary abstract sculpture.

Consider, however, a display of “Self-Tailing Winches.” Their forms are not memorable and their sculptural significance is minimal. Their use is not explained. What is a winch that it should self-tail?

Nor is the purpose of the enigmatic “Maxi Boat Single Block w/Becket,” whose name falls trippingly from the tongue, made known.

Anyone who enjoys visiting hardware stores, however, will be delighted by the objects on view.

Parts of a sailing boat are labeled on a handsome silhouette. I have no clue, however, as to the utility of a “clew,” “leech” or “shroud” in the context of sailing.

Elsewhere, yes, the “Lirakis Knife” is a handsome object. But what is it for?

Nearly two hours of videotapes are also available. Unfortunately, the interference of voices resonating throughout the galleries makes it nearly impossible to hear the audio. I saw and heard enough of one tape, however, to learn that secrecy, deception and litigiousness have superseded the ideals and fun of sportsmanship. And disputes about the specifications for a “12-meter” racing boat (which is not really 12 meters anywhere) are probably not too engrossing to the general viewer.

The absence of a substantial catalogue as documentation and of a scheduled tour of the exhibition (or part of it) to other museums raises serious questions as to its appropriateness for the museum.

More than one visitor has remarked: “What can you say? It’s a boat show.”

But the final classic cliche was never more ironic than when a visitor commented: “I guess you can say anything’s art nowadays.”

Works from the museum’s permanent collection in the Fayman Gallery are glowing with life and beauty. They look fantastic.

Still, the museum should take chances, as with the sailing show. It’s the first time it has been attempted and subsequent efforts elsewhere should be better.