The Thinkery Down Under: MONA’s Bold New Chapter
There’s something about museums that feels like stepping into a time machine, but MONA—Hobart’s Museum of Old and New Art—has always been more of a rocket ship. Next month, it’s launching a new wing, and if the hype is anything to go by, it’s not just an expansion; it’s a statement. Personally, I think this is MONA at its most MONA: audacious, eccentric, and unapologetically intellectual.
A Library That’s Not Just About Books
The centerpiece of the new wing, dubbed Phrontisterion (yes, you read that right), is a library. But this isn’t your grandmother’s library. It’s a “thinkery,” a term borrowed from Aristophanes that feels both ancient and futuristic. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it treats books as curatable objects. In my opinion, this flips the traditional library concept on its head. Books aren’t just vessels of knowledge; they’re artifacts, each with a story that transcends its pages.
David Walsh, MONA’s founder, has always been all-in on books, calling his first library card “the great leveller.” What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about nostalgia. Walsh is making a statement about accessibility and the democratization of knowledge. If you take a step back and think about it, this library is a physical manifestation of his belief that art and ideas should be for everyone, not just the elite.
The Underground Connection
One thing that immediately stands out is the underground tunnel connecting Phrontisterion to the main museum. It’s not just a passageway; it’s a metaphor. MONA has always been about digging deep—literally and figuratively. The tunnel, carved through sandstone, feels like a journey into the earth’s core, a reminder that art and knowledge are often buried, waiting to be unearthed.
Anselm Kiefer’s Gravity-Defying Vision
German artist Anselm Kiefer’s involvement is a masterstroke. His amphitheatre, Elektra, sits above the library like an inverted ziggurat. Kiefer’s comment that it “contradicts the laws of gravity” is more than just a clever quip. It’s a philosophy. Art, at its best, defies expectations. It challenges us to see the world differently. What this really suggests is that MONA isn’t just a museum; it’s a laboratory for the imagination.
Breathing Ancient Air
Julian Charrière’s installation, Breathe, is the kind of thing that makes MONA unforgettable. Visitors will inhale air extracted from 2.4-billion-year-old iron ore. Yes, you read that right. This isn’t just art; it’s science, history, and philosophy rolled into one. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it connects us to the ancient past. It’s a reminder that we’re part of a much larger story, one that predates us by billions of years.
The Return of Spectra and the Debut of In Absence
The timing of the new wing’s opening is no accident. It coincides with the return of Ryoji Ikeda’s Spectra and the debut of Yhonnie Scarce’s In Absence. These aren’t just add-ons; they’re part of a larger narrative. Spectra, with its light-tower, feels like a beacon, while In Absence, inspired by traditional eel traps, is a powerful commentary on Indigenous culture and history. What many people don’t realize is that MONA has always been about more than just art—it’s about identity, memory, and place.
The Hotel That Wasn’t (Yet)
Initially, the library was part of a hotel project that’s now on hold. From my perspective, this is classic MONA: ambitious, unpredictable, and always evolving. Walsh’s insistence that the hotel is still in the works is a reminder that MONA isn’t just a museum; it’s a living, breathing entity. It’s never finished, always becoming.
Why This Matters
If you take a step back and think about it, MONA’s new wing isn’t just about expanding physical space. It’s about expanding our minds. In a world where museums often play it safe, MONA is a rebel. It challenges us to think differently, to question, to wonder. What this really suggests is that art and knowledge aren’t static; they’re dynamic, ever-changing.
Final Thoughts
Personally, I think MONA’s Phrontisterion is more than just a new wing—it’s a manifesto. It’s a declaration that museums can be more than repositories of the past; they can be incubators for the future. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it blends the ancient and the avant-garde, the local and the global. It’s a reminder that art, at its best, is a conversation across time and space.
So, will Phrontisterion live up to the hype? In my opinion, it already has. It’s not just a new wing; it’s a new way of thinking. And that, my friends, is what MONA does best.
