NASA: From Gallaxies to Galleries

WASHINGTON (djc Features) — Gazing up at the night sky and taking in the natural wonders of the universe is a sight that has inspired mankind since the dawn of time.

Some have been compelled to derive meaning from its various shapes and patterns, while others sought only to reproduce its beauty on canvas. Then there are those who endeavoured to literally fly inside the starry blackness overhead — perhaps the human race’s greatest accomplishment to date.

When the U.S. and NASA successfully put a man on the moon in 1969, it spelled the end of the intense Space Race that began in the late 1950s. But the years in between were exciting ones, marked by vast technological leaps and an unprecedented public interest in science. Still, despite the extraordinary media blitz surrounding NASA’s accomplishments, some felt many of the more dramatic and emotional aspects of space exploration were passing unnoticed.

James E. Webb, NASA’s administrator during this period, believed the Space Age would someday be seen as a crucial moment in history. So, in 1962, Webb helped establish the NASA Art Program to allow artists to document the agency’s progress, creating a unique legacy for future generations.

“Machinery can preserve the cold facts but not the emotional impact of an event,” wrote James Dean, the program’s founding director from 1962 to 1974. “Pictures, although accurate and compelling, did not convey the excitement we and the public felt.”

From the very first assignment — eight painters chronicling Project Mercury’s final flight in May, 1963 — NASA has always been incredibly open to its artists. Technicians were amused and perhaps a little suspicious of these relics of an antiquated culture snooping around in Mission Control and hanging out with astronauts in recovery ships. After all, NASA’s official guidelines never provided for their presence.

These artists were never given any real directions, either. Free to explore any subject, they depicted not just shuttle launches but things like NASA’s otherworldly auxiliary structures; the affectedly stoic expressions on astronauts’ faces; even the crowds at nearby Cocoa Beach, Florida, watching the launch in complete comfort.

They captured not just their physical surroundings but also emotions, intangible sounds and radiation, the pulsating hum of electricity and excitement. The final products resembled not grandiose American propaganda  just quirky, interpretive snatches of both reality and surreality.

NASA’s Art Program has commissioned artists ranging from traditionalists like Paul Calle and James Wyeth to abstract modernists like Robert Rauschenberg and Lamar Dodd. Norman Rockwell received a small honorarium for his remarkable portrayal of Neil Armstrong’s moon landing; so did Andy Warhol for his neon pink silkscreen of Buzz Aldrin.

Although it’s a small program with a relatively small annual budget — less than $65,000 (US) compared with NASA’s total $16 billion (US) — it has managed to accomplish big things. Over the last four years, Artrain USA’s travelling exhibit brought 78 of NASA’s works into 103 small towns, reaching more than 275,000 people who normally would not be exposed to fine arts. The program also includes outreach initiatives for underserved communities. Last year, it helped schoolkids from the South Bronx create a 7,000-square-foot mural based on the Mars Exploration Rover project.

What isn’t stored at the Kennedy Space Center Gallery is constantly being loaned out for display. Currently, there are about 800 pieces in the NASA Art Program archive, plus 2,100 works (including rough sketches) housed at Washington, D.C.’s National Air and Space Museum.

NASA commissions only about five projects per year. The program underwent a bit of a “diet” during the 1990s under the administration of Daniel Goldin, as it recovered from a glut of shuttle illustrations in the 1980s. Yet it was around this time that the program began truly branching out, embracing new styles, media and venues.

The NASA Art Program now includes such diverse works as a strapless Stephen Sprouse dress inspired by the Mars Pathfinder; a written ode to the agency by Ray Bradbury; cartoons by Los Angeles illustrator Gary Baseman; sculpture by EV Day; Web art by Martin Wattenberg; a gravity-defying dance performance by choreographer Elizabeth Streb; and a score by minimalist composer Terry Riley based on audio samples gathered by NASA probes.

The program’s curator since 1994, Bert Ulrich says people often react with surprise when he tells them what he does for a living. “But if you think about it,” he says, “there are many similarities between scientists, astronauts and artists. They’re all trying to figure out the unknown in some way. The artists just do it through their imaginations.”

Founding director James Dean once put it similarly: “At the core, both art and aerospace exploration search for a meaning to life.”