1 /5 Julie Wilder: If you want a masterclass in how to alienate families, discourage young art lovers, and uphold an utterly joyless approach to culture, the Tacoma Art Museum is it. The low point of our visit—by far—was when a staff member asked us to remove our one-year-old daughter’s shoes because they had built-in squeakers. Yes, squeakers. The kind of cheerful sound that delights children and helps them feel secure as they explore the world. She wears them because she has sensory issues; the squeaks provide feedback and comfort while walking in unfamiliar spaces.
Apparently, this museum views the sound of a toddler enjoying herself as a greater threat to the sanctity of art than the complete absence of quality in their exhibits. We were stunned. As if an art museum should be a solemn tomb, rather than a vibrant space meant to inspire future generations. What kind of cultural institution sees a happy, curious child as a nuisance? The height of snobbery, and frankly, a disgrace.
Contrast this with our recent visits to the Seattle Art Museum, the Denver Art Museum, and the Detroit Institute of Arts—all places that celebrated our daughter’s presence. Staff there beamed, laughed, and told us how refreshing it was to see young children engaging with art. Tacoma, on the other hand, treated us like we were intruding on some elite, silent ritual. It was cold, condescending, and completely out of touch.
As for the collection—what collection? It’s a barren tribute to everything wrong with modern art. Self-aggrandizing installations devoid of context or consequence. Theres no historical backbone, no bold ideas—just a tedious echo chamber of abstract concepts no one asked for, with artist statements more impressive than the work itself. It’s the kind of place where empty minimalism is mistaken for intellectual depth, and the result is forgettable at best, laughable at worst.
The Tacoma Art Museum doesn’t celebrate art—it gatekeeps it. And in doing so, it fails its audience completely.
