Museums

Dallasites love their “titans,” and Ray Nasher held twin titanships. Nasher was one of the world’s foremost commercial real estate developers. Along with his wife Peggy, he was also one of our greatest art collectors. His devotion to art was lifelong, encouraged by his parents as he grew up in Boston and shared with Patsy, who was from Dallas. Nasher married his love of art and his passion for quality development at his signature NorthPark Center, located in the toniest neighborhood of his adopted home city. 

Nasher designed Northpark with art in mind. The 27 million annual visitors to Northpark (the country’s 20th largest mall and named one of the “Seven Retail Wonders of the World”) enjoy its world-class artistic offerings. 

In 2003, Nasher unveiled his gift to Dallas, the sculpture center. The focus on modern to contemporary sculpture and the fruits of Nasher’s five-decade crusade to collect the best in those fields mean this is a world-class facility in its discipline. Yes, we recognize that “world-class” has a literal meaning well beyond “it’s pretty good.” The Nasher Prize, awarded yearly, is the Nobel for contemporary sculptors.

Start with the building and grounds, designed by Renzo Piano. The term reviewers return to time and again is “oasis.” There is no other word for it; thirty minutes at lunch here returns you to your skyscraper cubicle fully charged. The building and lawn are delightful on their own.

Of course, you also get the sculptures, both inside and out. Some are playful, some are challenging, and most take advantage of Piano’s light design. On the lighting front, we must note the long-running dispute with the Museum Tower skyscraper, which casts shadows over the sculpture garden. The most severe damage occurred to James Turrell’s Skyspace installation, one of the most beloved pieces in the museum. The shadows were enough for Turrell to proclaim his work demolished and close off access. 

Nasher, who died in 2003, would be aghast at the failure of commerce and art to find a common ground. The tower’s shadows, however, are a minor nit. This is a spectacular place to spend several hours.

We say it again and again… El Paso simply does not get enough credit. That thought also holds in the art world. We began our sightseeing of the city with a visit to the museum, planning to spend a couple of hours there. We had to rearrange our schedule completely because we could not tear ourselves away until well after lunch. We left with a promise to ourselves to come back.

Given El Paso’s location, we expected and we found, a substantial regional collection featuring Latin American art. Judith Hernandez was the latest to be featured. Tom Lea is foremost among El Paso southwestern artists; the museum naturally presents some of his and his contemporaries’ strongest work. The museum is worth the trip for its areas of expected strength alone. 

What we did not expect was the breadth and depth of the collection, particularly for a relatively young museum. We soon learned that the museum’s 1959 founding was due to the city having an expansive and impressive collection from an unlikely source. The Samuel Kress Foundation donated 3,000 works of European Baroque and Renaissance masters to small to mid-sized cities in which the foundation’s namesake had made his fortune in Five & Dime Department stores. El Paso was among these. The rooms holding El Paso’s portion of the donation will transport you to Rome, Florence, and Venice. 

The museum has not rested on its laurels. We saw American masters, highlighted by Gilbert Stuart’s oil-on-canvas portrait of President Washington. The exhibit on the art and lives of African-American women was fascinating. Finally, the museum has an obviously active and broad outreach, as our discussion with a security guard revealed that he had taken up art in his new role. The reveal was that he had progressed to the extent that he earned an exhibition in a community-based show. 

The good news is that we cannot recommend EPMA more forcefully. The bad news is that you cannot take our advice. Essential renovations have currently closed the museum for infrastructure fixes that will protect this impressive collection. We will let you know when they reopen for business.

Speaking for the male half of Texas Ten, the pictured bronze sculpture from John Coleman was the most impactful piece of art we saw during all our travels; the history that I have read and visited oozes out of this piece. While the Coleman was the most memorable, the Briscoe is stocked full of sculptures, objects, paintings, and photographs that bring the Old West to life.

San Antonio is our most historic city, so a museum that showcases the art that flows from the history was a brilliant idea. The youngest museum of our Top 10, the Briscoe opened in 2013. The name honors former Governor Dolph Briscoe and his wife, Janey Slaughter Briscoe, Uvalde ranchers before their turn in the Austin spotlight. 

The building housing the museum provides a fitting home. First, a Carnegie library, then the main branch of the city’s public library system, then a circus museum, and then a dilapidated building, but now brilliantly restored by Lake Flato, one of Texas’s preeminent firms.  The street-side entrance evokes the Old West, while the riverside back half is a brilliant example of Hill Country modern. The trick is seamless transitions.

The museum can be “done” in the space of a morning to afternoon, but actively rotates exhibits and collections. There is always something new to see. A tremendous balance exists throughout, both in terms of the types of art and objects displayed, as well as in the perspectives the art illuminates. San Antonio overflows with tourist attractions, but this one should be high on everybody’s list.

Different museums serve different missions, almost all of them vital. We can think of no more essential mission than the one the Dallas (and Houston) Holocaust and Human Rights Museum meets. Thankfully, it does so spectacularly well. At the heart of that mission is the idea that just as hate is learned, it can also be unlearned. Thus, as M’Lissa can personally attest, the museum does a fabulous job of hosting school groups. Our opinion is that school children are the least of our problems; more adults need to visit. 

The struggle every Holocaust or human rights museum faces is simple. People visit museums for enjoyment; the subject matter of these institutions does not easily translate. The Dallas Holocaust effort does three things to bridge that gap. First, the presentation is flawless, visually stunning, and arranged in a narrative arc that pulls the visitor to a conclusion. Second, the focus is at least as much on global human rights as it is on the Holocaust. The wider aperture helps in a variety of ways, but mainly by illuminating that the conditions that created and allowed the Holocaust are a human problem we all must be interested in. 

Third, and most importantly, the museum presents and celebrates solutions. It is an easy thing to settle for “the Holocaust was a horrible evil that should never happen again.” The Dallas institution avoids the easy road by implicitly challenging every visitor to be an “upstander,” someone with the courage to call out the circumstances and behavior that lead to human rights abuses. The use of examples across a spectrum of human rights issues proves the tactic works and lets visitors see themselves in the shoes of people who prevent abuse, as opposed to those who suffer from abuse.

Social justice is generally a divisive concept, but we should all agree that everyone should get to live free from oppression based on fear of punishment and death. The Dallas Holocaust and Human Rights Museum imagines a world in which that outcome is possible. That might be the prettiest piece of art there is.

Texas has two fine arts museums with collections large enough and impressive enough to qualify as “world-class” for the general fine arts. Dallas’ entry anchors the cultural district, a short walk from the Nasher Sculpture Center, the Crow Museum of Asian Art, as well as the Myerson Symphony Center, the Winspear Opera House, the Wyly Theater, and the Moody Performance Hall. It is all part of the largest cultural district in the United States, but it starts with the DMA.

That is how it should be because the history of culture in Dallas for a long time was the history of the DMA. In 1903, Frank Reaugh, known as the “Dean of Texas Painters,” was among the leaders of the Dallas Art Association as it began organizing exhibits for the Dallas Public Library. As the collection grew, a home separate from the library became a necessity. The first incarnation was known as the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts. It earned a grander building as part of the 1936 Texas Centennial Celebration at Fair Park, in one of the beautiful Art Deco buildings constructed for the occasion. 

While the then-Museum of Fine Arts was always open to a variety of styles, its Texas emphasis continued in 1943 under the direction of the acclaimed regional artist Jerry Bywaters. Bywaters held the position for 21 years, some of them rocky. Often a hotbed of zealous conservative sentiment, the museum faced attacks from a local organization for displaying “communist art.” Unfortunately, those attacks led to the museum removing works by Picasso and Rivera.  The Short-lived Dallas Museum of Contemporary Art arose from the dispute as a place for artists to display works, allegedly immune from social pressure. 

After McCarthyism died, the two museums merged. In 1984, the museum changed its name to the Dallas Museum of Art. In 2007, the DMA moved to its acclaimed new space. The scale and openness of the building allow for relaxed viewing; even its most popular exhibits do not feel crowded. This uncrowded feel is particularly remarkable in light of the DMA’s free admission policy. Actually, we may have buried the lede here, so we will emphasize that the DMA is free of charge, all day, every day.

Which is good, because it would take days to complete the tour and give proper due to the many collections and exhibits. The DMA remains particularly strong in Ancient and Mediterranean Art, African Art, and antiquities. That said, we greatly enjoyed an impressionist exhibit the last time we visited, which demonstrates that when free from political influence, the DMA has something for everybody.

The Houston Museum of Natural Science holds the distinction of “most visited museum in Texas,” and is the 11th most visited museum in the United States. As might be expected in the nation’s energy capital, the Weiss Hall presentation of the energy world is comprehensive. We also love the Farish Texas Hall of Wildlife, where you can learn about every species of Texas animals or close to it.

The big attraction, however, is the Cockrell Butterfly Center. Who doesn’t love a butterfly? There are thousands of them, in all shapes, sizes, and colors, in the exhibit. No matter how much you know about butterflies, you will come away knowing more. 

The museum dates back to 1909 and owes much of its stature to John Milsaps, one of the more interesting figures in Texas history. Milsaps’ grandfather died at the Alamo with the contingent from Gonzalez. A generation later, the Civil War interrupted Milsaps’s education. As a boy, he worked making Confederate supplies while his father fought. What Milsaps lost in formal schooling, he more than made up for with voracious private reading.

Wanderlust struck Milsaps as a young man. After failed Gold Rush adventures, Milsaps enlisted in the Salvation Army in San Francisco. There, he found his calling. He traveled extensively throughout the world for the rest of his life, collecting books and artifacts at an impressive rate. The books became the heart of the Houston Public Library’s collection, while the artifacts started this museum. 

If you want a bit more information about Milsaps’s life, you could read his 74-volume diary in the rare books section of the Houston Public Library. We suggest just enjoying the fruits of his labors and generosity at the butterfly exhibit.

Travel through Fort Worth, and you are bound to run into Amon Carter, who practically invented modern Fort Worth. The most recognizable tribute to Carter is the Museum of American Art, established via will after Carter’s death and steered to prominence by Carter’s daughter, Ruth Carter Stevenson. What Amon Carter wanted was a place to display the world’s best collection of the world’s two best western artists, Frederic Remington and Charles Russell. What he, and we, got was much more.

Remington and Russell were not Texans, and actually, were rarely within the state. But they drew Cowboys and Indians well and often. It was Amon Carter who relentlessly promoted Fort Worth as “Where the West Begins.” As the chief illustrators of the archetypes of the West, Carter’s admiration for Remington and Russell was logical and heartfelt. At his death, Carter owned over 700 pieces from the two artists combined.

Their home is now a wonderful Phillip Johnson classic-modern building. The collection has steadily grown, with an inspired photography catalog as the first effort. In 1967, the museum announced that the distinction between “Western Art” and “American Art” had become so blurred that it was no longer a meaningful distinction. The statement explained the museum’s purchase of the modernist “Blips and Ifs” by Stuart Davis, painted just three years earlier. Three years later, the museum signaled that it was serious about this broader focus by acquiring Grant Wood’s iconic “Parson Weems’ Fable.” Significant works from the Hudson River School, Winslow Homer, Thomas Eakins, Georgia O’Keeffe, and many others.

Amon Carter would undoubtedly be proud of the end product. He was a relentless promoter of “the New West.” The museum that bears his name now offers an opportunity to see where the West fits in the story of American Art. There is much to admire, but just like Amon, you will walk away remembering the Russells and the Remingtons.

Sometimes those of us who do not live there forget what Houston is. As a reminder, our largest city is an international meeting ground with the economy, the food, the entertainment, and the cultural arts to reflect a city of global importance. The Museum of Fine Arts, or “MFA,” is Exhibit A in making that case.

Ranked by gallery space, the MFA clocks in as the ninth largest in the world. The collection it holds rivals that of the world’s great museums with exceptional strength in Impressionism, Italian Renaissance, and classical sculpture.  The name-dropping is worth the price of admission, particularly on Thursday, when it is free—Picasso, Rembrandt, Canaletto, Rodin, Van Gogh, Monet, etc., etc. 

Art, however, extends beyond Europe and North America. Over the last several decades, that is where MFA has made serious improvements, adding to its 80,000+ piece collection. The Asian, Islamic, and African collections now rival their more traditional rivals. As a result, the MFA’s story spans millennia rather than centuries. 

Visiting the museum is delightful, especially in terms of crowds, but navigating the exhibits and collections requires some thought. There are three main buildings, a sculpture garden, two “house museums,” and an art school.  The obvious suggestion is to pick one area you want to focus on every Thursday and keep coming back until you finish. Which means every Thursday for the rest of your life is taken.

“The Perot” is sure to razz your berries. We do not know precisely what that means, other than it is a compliment and it sounds exactly like something the museum’s namesake would have said. Ross Perot may be the ultimate Horatio Alger story, a self-made man from Texarkana, who created two billion-dollar enterprises after excelling at IBM and the U.S. Naval Academy. 

It was Perot’s children who did the heavy lifting on fundraising when Dallas decided it needed to up its natural history and science game. The effort was just the sort of deal Ross would have loved, because it transformed the inefficient into the exceptional. The current museum resulted from a merger of the Dallas Museum of Natural History, the Science Place, and the Children’s Museum. The Perot children were lead givers and motivators of a historic fundraising campaign that culminated in the opening of this downtown gem in 2012. When you visit, pay attention to the names of the various exhibit halls; they serve as an index to the great Texas businesses.

All that money has been put to great use. The building’s profile is a marvel, designed by Thom Mayne to evoke the geologic stratification of the earth. The inside, however, surpasses all expectations. In addition to revolving subjects, there are 11 permanent exhibit halls and one of the best theaters anywhere, showing multiple science documentaries. 

Texas Ten is a good test case for visiting the Perot. We are the kind of non-science couple that conquered the basic subjects in high school and college, then spent years in careers that did not demand we apply that knowledge. Rusty would be an apt term. We raised children in the medical sciences field who converse intelligently about science. Finally, we have a five-year-old grandson in the learner’s seat.  

What makes the Perot special is that the same exhibits can engage all of us simultaneously. Grandma and Grandpa Texas Ten can quickly refresh their knowledge enough to guide their grandson and feel good about the budding scientist. We then nod knowingly as our daughters discuss some insight we completely missed. Joking aside, we all come away entertained and more knowledgeable at ages 5, 35, and 65. 

Ross Perot was quirky, but the power of his optimism was undeniable. It lives on at The Perot.

You may have noticed how often the story of a museum intersects with the story of a person. Our final entry is the perfect marriage. We selected the Bullock State History Museum as our favorite because it explores our favorite subject and does Herculean work in creating future good citizens of Texas. If you want to understand art or science, there are many museums you can visit. If you wish to understand Texas, the Bullock is a singular choice.

Bob Bullock was a small-town lawyer with a passion for Texas and its history, who happened to be one of the most skilled politicians ever to grace the Texas stage. For his last eight years of government service, Bullock served as our Lieutenant Governor. Students of Texas politics generally insist that the Lieutenant Governor has at least as much power as the Governor, if he (or someday, she) knows how to use it. Bullock knew how to use it. Before that, Bullock modernized the comptroller’s office. 

One of the hallmarks of Bullock’s decades in public service was his big tent approach. He was an early leader in hiring minorities and women. As Lieutenant Governor, he served first with Democrat Ann Richards and then with Republican George Bush. In both instances, he received more votes than the governor did. Texans liked Bob Bullock because he liked them. You could count on the closing line of any Bullock speech to be “Good bless Texas.”

Bullock always harbored a deep desire for a grand museum dedicated to Texas history, serving as a valuable resource for children. He brought the concept to life in the 1997 legislative session through an appropriations bill that funded the construction. Bullock was intimately involved in the project even after his retirement. He was the guest of honor at the groundbreaking in April 1999, but died shortly after in June of that year. Bullock succumbed to cancer, but had fought demons his whole life as a recovering alcoholic with a wild personal life. Maybe the greatest tragedy of his eventful time on earth, however, was that he was not on hand to cut the ribbon at the 2001 grand opening. 

Part of Bullock’s political genius was the ability to tell a story. That genius transferred to the museum. The whole arc of Texas’s history gets explained as you ascend the museum’s levels. Great care is taken to explain how Texas culture evolved; if any place in the United States is truly the fabled “melting pot,” Texas qualifies. No Texan will explore the whole of the museum and feel excluded. That care is a fitting tribute to both the competence and the inclusive spirit of the building’s namesake.

Most Texans take it as an article of faith that Texas is special. That belief was always a central part of Bob Bullock’s life. His museum explains why he, and we, are right. More importantly, it also serves as a reminder of how we can be wrong; how Texas can be just like every other place if we do not value our common contributions. 

A visit to the Bullock is a must for every Texan. Schedule a day around it. You will be better for it.