Herb and Dorothy Vogel are art collectors.  As Dorothy puts it, their curatorial approach is characterized as follows: “We collect what we like, what we can afford, and what will fit into our little one-bedroom Manhattan apartment.”  As Dorothy was a librarian and Herb was a USPS mail sorter, they specialized in small, inexpensive works from as-yet-unknown avant-gardistes.

Over the years, the Vogels have acquired literally thousands of works—and a legendary reputation as being among the nation’s most important collectors.  In part, this is because of the interest the Vogels developed not only in works of art, but in artists themselves.  After a fashion, the art community became a collective PR department for the Vogels, who wound up featured on the cover of numerous national magazines… and 60 Minutes.  They are now the subjects of this documentary from Megumi Sasaki.

They also became legendary because of their innate sense of aesthetic value.  Says Herb: “Beauty is enjoyable.”  Says more than one museum curator: the Vogels are “an astounding phenomenon”—one in which the “passion for art appreciation matches the passion of artists,” according to Allan Shestack, Deputy Director of the National Gallery.

In an ending fitting to the couple’s beginning—the pair honeymooned at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.—the Vogels negotiated a deal by which their entire collection has been permanently donated to the National Gallery.  The process by which this took place is one of the more entertaining segments of the film.

There are a number of less entertaining segments.  The film’s primary strength is the lesson it provides regarding the history of latter-Twentieth Century American art, the means by which artists work and support themselves, and the manner in which collectors—admitted by many of the film’s participants to be “art addicts”—satisfy their obsessions.

But like Jon Krakauer’s Where Men Win Glory, this biographical portrait goes a little long on Herb and Dorothy’s ordinariness.  Yes, certainly: part of the story is that the Vogels are as “normal” as you or I, that they were not born to artists or on a museum stoop.  But a simple introduction, and the Vogels themselves, gets that across well enough.  Visits to the Vogels’ childhood homes and Herb’s former workplace just seem forced and unnecessary.

For me, the film was certainly enjoyable, but just went on too long; yet when Dorothy finally gets around to observing, “the minute it stops being fun, we stop,” I nearly hooted.  In fact, I did, as this is a principle which my wife Jenn and I also have also endorsed verbatim since our own wedding.

If only Sasaki had employed a suitably minimalist approach to her subject, I would have been more satisfied.  But as both Herb and Dorothy would agree, art appreciation is very subjective.  If you’re at all interested in the subject matter, by all means take a look.  There’s a very good chance you’ll disagree with me.

This is, nonetheless, a very fine initial release from Arthouse Films.  I look forward to more of their features.

Herb & Dorothy is unrated, but this could easily be rated G.  If you’ve children who would be interested in such a film, you are very lucky—and can rest your mind at ease.

Courtesy of the film’s distributor, Greg screened a promotional DVD of Herb & Dorothy.