The Lucas Museum of Narrative Art

When you first arrive at the new Zumthor-designed LACMA you are struck in wonder by the white amoeba shape floating over Wilshire Boulevard, but when you climb the stairs and go inside you wonder, where is the art, where is the museum? Initial doubts creep in as you wander the halls, taking measure of the dark concrete walls that overpower the paintings when you find them. The initial reaction upon seeing the yet-to-open Lucas Museum of Narrative Art is similar: where did this shape come from, what wonders must it house? This building, however, is firmly planted on the ground, and its shape seems symbolic: why not a landed space ship to house the collection of the master behind Star Wars? The first big difference between the two buildings, however, appears upon entering. The plaza between two wings is surmounted by a massive oculus that feels like the portal through which a space ship would beam you up. As you enter the five-story high main atrium you are confronted by three tubular glass elevators, majestic as a grand organ. The walls curve around you–there are no corners–and the white everywhere is warm and welcoming. Fine design is omnipresent: the men’s room in the lobby is stunning.

All the art is displayed on the fourth floor. As with LACMA, I have not had the time and freedom to make a full evaluation tour, and my definitive first reaction will have to await another, lengthier visit. But I saw enough to get a good sense of what is there, and I like what I saw. First, the display: all the walls are white and of an appropriate scale for the pictures, most of which are collector-, not museum-size. The labels are minimal: name of artist, title and year (not even dates for the artist). We are told that there will be more information available through your iPhone, should you be interested. It is an open floorplan with walls that don’t reach the industrial ceiling dividing the spaces. I.e., although there are clearly separate galleries, you feel that one bleeds into another. There also doesn’t seem to be a clearly defined path: wandering is encouraged, which brings me to the main point of distinction for this museum.  The art is not displayed in any order; nor is there any hierarchy among the works displayed, with the notable exception of the rare loan of an iconic Norman Rockwell work (all but six pieces on display are from the collections of George Lucas or his foundation). When you walk through the museum you are not expecting, or looking for, the masterpiece. It’s more like looking at the paintings in someone’s house.

So, is the art “good”? To me, that’s not the point. Is the art fun to look at? Absolutely. As promised in the museum name, all the art is “narrative”–that is, it’s both figurative and tells a story. No landscapes, still lifes or portraits, let alone abstractions. For example, the “Wyeth” gallery has works by N.C. Wyeth, the great book illustrator, not his son Andrew. There are other one-artist galleries: Norman Rockwell and Maxfield Parrish are both delightful artists who make the distinction between illustration and fine art meaningless. Thomas Hart Benton, generally regarded as fine artist, is given a whole room, and his paintings look like the illustrations that they are. Other single-artist galleries were given to Frank Frazetta, clearly an illustrator, and Jessie Willcox Smith, whose work is not far from Mary Cassatt (who also has a major painting in the exhibition). I don’t know but I suspect that Lucas’s collection is sufficiently deep that in future years he will highlight other artists in these spaces.

The majority of the galleries, however, are not single artists but themes: heroes, sports, science fiction; I didn’t note and have forgotten most of the categories. So, not style, not period, not geographic region–although almost everything seemed to be American 20th century. This accomplished what many museums (including LACMA) say they are trying to do: it allows, or makes, the viewer look at each picture on its own merits: hey, I like this one, but this other not so much. There are no art-historical clues, no hanging hierarchy. There are certainly many “known” artists, but they are mixed in with others I’d never heard of. You feel they have been hung because of their subject matter, not where they fit in the artistic canon. You will find Jacob Lawrence, Charles White, John Wilson, Ernie Barnes–just an example of the Black artists I’m familiar with. (An exception in both size and importance is Robert Colescott’s “George Washington Carver Crossing the Delaware,” which the Lucas purchased at auction for $15 million in 2021.) Two artists whose work show up a lot are John Philip Falter (d. 1982) and Stevan Dohanos (d. 1994). Both made their living doing magazine covers, etc., but I see Falter’s paintings fairly regularly at American art auctions at Christie’s and Sotheby’s, and Dohanos cited Grant Wood and Edward Hopper as his major influences. In fact, given Lucas’s obsession with Benton, it’s interesting that Wood and John Steuart Curry, who are routinely grouped with Benton, aren’t represented. Maybe they will be in a future hang. We were also pleased to find a work by J. Allen St. John in the sci-fi gallery, as he painted the six scenes of Luxembourg Gardens in our foyer before he turned to illustration. In short, there are many more discoveries to be made when I have the chance to peruse the space at leisure.

Oh, and by the way, although the painting collection has no obvious connection to Lucas the filmmaker, the fourth floor galleries are interspersed with lifesize reminders of the movies: a statue of Indiana Jones, some space vehicles and, standing in a corner niche, See-Threepio and Artoo-Detoo. Jabba the Hutt lounges at the end of the expansive lawn visible through a large window at the south end of the museum. There are two matching theaters off the lobby (which I missed), where movies will be shown continuously. I would hope they would be Lucas franchise films, to get one in the spirit, but I don’t know the plans. Assuming there will be room in the parking garage under the museum and we can figure out how to navigate L.A. traffic, I will hope to return for at least a half-day visit to study the art more thoughtfully. And, I expect, to witness the excitement of the crowds that will be coming.