Frederick Wiseman’s institutional analyses entered a new register in the mid ’90s with Ballet, wherein the institution’s involvement with the constructive and performative aspects of artistic endeavor came to the foreground. Performance was usually an element in Wiseman’s films, of course, from the rank-and-file formations in Basic Training to the catwalk struts in Department Store, and later films like At Berkeley have returned to the structural expose format, but Ballet puts the emphasis on creation and not routinization. National Gallery takes this development to the next logical step, using its titular establishment as a springboard for an all-encompassing exploration into the multifarious nature of art as both history and object. This is one of Wiseman’s richest and most thought-provoking films, and easily one of his best.
With Wiseman’s films, it’s often tempting to try and work out the underlying structure, even while you’re watching them, to break them down into discrete sequences, and thereby discern the broader thematic movements or acts (depending on your artistic analogue of choice). National Gallery is hardly an exception: After an overture that offers up a number of famous paintings for the critical gaze of patrons and viewers alike, the film’s first hour examines the historical and formal context of the museum’s holdings. Wiseman presents extended talks from curators and guides about particular works of art. Classes in art appreciation for young and old, as well as art classes where students sketch from a live model, embody what John Berger famously called the art of looking. In that sense, a film and a painting aren’t vastly different. Each can be “read” in a number of ways, and it has always been one of Wiseman’s greatest strengths that he can present his material in a way that leaves it most open for individual interpretation.