Something stinks in the Motor City, and it’s not diesel fumes. Museum trustees love good news, but bad news? No one except a flagellant likes bad news, and trustees aren’t known for self-mortification with whips, chains, and tail pipes. Finger pointing? That’s a well-known trustee ritual, along with the chant “blame the director,” as trustees up the volume on the eight-track and drag out of town to an undisclosed location.
I don’t know what to make of what’s happening at the distinguished Detroit Institute of Art (DIA). Its director is in hot water. I have followed the story and still don’t know whether it’s farce, catharsis, or kabuki theater. I know that if I were a director, I’d be terrified over what’s happened there. Do trustees prefer their directors paralyzed by fear?
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