When we see ourselves
Category Archives: Museums
Working Together
Last year May, the Whitney had a photography exhibit on the fifth floor of the museum. The rich black and white photos identified Black people and their living conditions during some of the country’s pivotal moments – the Civil Rights Movement, the Black arts movement and the Pan- Africanism movement.
The photos were taken by the Kamoinge Workshop.
You may remember I spoke about the Kamoinge Workshop in another blog post…
Ishita and I met at the Whitney and after having a hard time finding each other in the museum (my phone died as soon as I walked in) we went up to the top floor and ran into friends from the Harlem Studio museum.
We ran into photographer, Ralston Smith and Harlem Studio companion, Tasha Douge and before long everyone was sending fiery artist vibes. It became a fun photoshoot.
History all jugged up
I am standing in front of Simone Leigh’s Large Jug in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
It is included in an exhibition entitled, “Hear Me Now: The Black Potters of Old Edgefield, South Carolina”.
This exhibition opens up a different jug of worms. While most slave narratives of 19th Century speak about the Atlantic Slave trade and the presence of Africans in the cotton fields, viewing Hear Me Now makes the viewer think, well, what else did Africans / African Americans contribute too? What other narratives are they apart of that we know very little to nothing about? It remind us that the slave was not confined or small at all, instead, he had a large presence and was in every walk of life.
While the entire story is told from many view points, the one artist that walks away with you is Dave. Mr. Dave Drake. He found a way to live on forever through his pottery by using the very thing that could have gotten him killed, visual literacy.
Above to the left is the jug that I couldn’t stop circling around. It reads:
nineteen days before Christmas- Eve- Lots of people after its over, how they will greave,
I wonder…. how in the world did he get away with a quote like that? He seemed to share the same status as Fredrick Douglass; yet, he was enslaved!
Douglass escape slavery in 1881. Drake’s pottery was issued in 1858. This means that way before Frederick Douglass wrote his speech, ‘What, to the slave, is the fourth of July‘? Drake was already addressing the same topic throughout his pottery.
Lesson plan idea: Visit exhibit with students and allow them to write ‘what if’ stories for Dave. Allow them to create stories to fill in some of the missing pieces of Dave’s story that we do not know…
When we see Ourselves
At the Philadelphia Museum of Art, behind the picture taker is work by Eduard Charlemount, an Austrian painter. The title of this work is The Moorish Chief
Sisters
Two Celebrations
First and foremost, CONGRATULATIONS to my close friend, Laurel, who had her first art show at Slag Gallery.
She spent most of her COVID-19 down time prepping for a show she wasn’t sure was ever going to take place. By the time invitations came out for the opening ceremony, things were picking back up and it was impossible for me to make it to the show.
I ended up going to Slag a day before my birthday- which made it a double celebration.
The show has been taken down by now, ( I’ve been too busy to blog lately…sorry) however, I wanted to write a little about Laurel’s piece.
Laurel’s work was a part of a group exhibition curated by Sophie Olympia Riese titled This is Not Enough. All of the artist, women: LaTonia Allen, Ranee Henderson, Laurel Richardson, and Paige Twyman.
As the synopsis stated, These four painters explore[d] themes of self-determination, history, ancestry, social construction, and aspiration in their works, examining perception and expectation while developing a visual narrative that pave[d] a path towards the futures they see for themselves.
If I could pick a theme, Laurel’s Heart of Light in particular focused mainly on social construction. She used dye, acrylic, canvas and pins to address the role of the Queen Mother in an African village which in turn addressed the role of the mother in the African American community.
The Queen Mother is like the queen bee, it’s simply in charge. Its respected and reverenced. Her job is to keep the children safe from those who seek to destroy them.
As I continued to examine the canvas, I found faces of children hidden and woven in the cloth. From afar I couldn’t see the faces, but as I got closer, I saw the faces, boys in particular starring back at me.
For us, this piece, opened up conversation about black boys in our communities, single mothers, and police brutality.
The materials Laurel used opened up a discussion about Chicago where Laurel is from originally and her family. To construct her art work she looked at patterns and used cloth from her grandmother who is a seamstress.
After viewing the art in Slag and examining the nearby galleries we walked to the High Line Plinth at 30th St. and 10th Ave. where we took photos in front of Simone Leigh’s (another Chicago native) Brick House.
We spent the entire day in the village appreciating art and we ended our day at Worthwild, a bar-restaurant at 156 9th ave. We froze our butts off dinning on the outside, which was crazy and fun at the same time.
Towards the end of the night, Laurel surprised me with a pumpkin cupcake. She and the kind waiter sang happy birthday and the wind blew the candle out for me.
Chloe Bass inHarlem
Late 2019, Harlem’s Studio Museum practicum fellows gathered in St. Nicholas park to hear conceptual artist Chloe Bass speak about her outdoor exhibition, Wayfinding.
She placed mirrored images throughout the park that held sayings such as There are times when I have agreed with you, only in order to go to sleep
at the Afro-Brazil Museum
I had many reasons for traveling to Brazil at this time. One reason was to be around like minded people who didn’t mind speaking of slavery and the atrocities that came with it. I knew taking a trip to Brazil would teach and tell.
I spent one day in Sao Paulo with a friend of a friend, Ana Paula.
We stopped at many places but the best by far was the Afro-Brasil Museum or Museu Afro Brasil, as it is called.
The entire museum is dedicated to the existence of African people in Brazil. On the first floor, there is a panel of different newspaper articles about hate crimes Afro-Brazilians faced.
There is a floor that showcase popular Brazilian artist. I saw Brazilians who looked like Sammy Davis, Jr. and one actress looked like Marian Anderson another one who looked like James Baldwin, and when learning more about the Orishas, I saw someone who looked just like my Grandma.
I realize while I was there I was searching for my history on a different land. And, even though the African American people are like no other- I found us there too. I found our stories and pain, and could relate so much. I am not sure why it was meaningful to me to see myself, but it was.
Each floor was a deeper level of truth. When we first walked in, Ana Paula had to translate but once we got to the second flood, I knew what the images stood for. I understood without a tour guide that they were speaking about the power of white influence.
There was a moment I put my camera down. It was when I walked into a room that spoke about slavery. There was a huge ship and sounds of water and mourning was being played repeatedly over the speaker. Not too many people were in this part and everyone who was there, was totally silent. There was a replica of Jesus on the Cross. The artist painted his body black.
By the time, we walked through the entire museum, I was ready to go back home.
We took the Taxi back to the airport and Ana Paula spoke about every thing we passed but I was in a different world.
The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston
I had a very eventful summer.
One event I want to speak about is my trip to Massachusetts.
I took Amtrack to Deerfield, MA for an education conference. After completing my work in Deerfield,- which I must tell you about- I caught a ride to Boston, with my friend, Erin, who kept asking me if I was sure MFA was going to have what I was looking for.
I didn’t know what MFA had but I had high hopes. She described to me a particular painting.
When you enter the museum, one of the first paintings you may see is one of a white man about to be eaten by a shark. That painting is in relation to what we spoke about at the conference. I’m not going to tell you more, just let me know what you think.
She dropped me off at the train station and after we parted, I found a pizza shop, took a bite, then took the train. It just so happened that I arrived during rush hour and Boston’s MTA sucks….it’s worse than NY! We stood in the station for over 15 minutes listening to the conductor scream at us.
“Somebody is standing too close to the door! Move in! Push in!”
After that very unpleasant train ride, I was really happy to get out and explore. So, while I waited for my friend, Josh, to meet me, I walked around Savin Hill looking for something to photograph and came across this wall mural, showing how Savin Hill looked 500 years ago.
After studying the mural, Josh called to say he was near.
Hey Lilly, where did you say you wanted to go?
Boston’s Fine Art Museum. I want to see what African American artist they have up.
Josh chuckled. Lilly, this is Massachusetts.
The way he said this is Massachusetts sounded like it wasn’t America.
Are you sure you want to visit BMA?
Of course. They should have at least an artist or something that will inspire me.
Okiee.
When we arrived, we stopped at the desk hoping to get in for free. Which really did happen after telling the receptionist who we were and what we did.
Because Josh is located in Boston and basically knew the museum like the back of his hand, I first depended on his knowledge to locate Black art and know exactly where to go. But, after going through the first gallery, everything begin to look different to him as they were doing a lot of renovations, so we went to the desk and asked for a map.
Excuse me, can you please tell us where to go to check out any African American artist?
African American artist?
Yes.
Oh, well….I’m not sure…humm, Let me see.
Josh and I spent over 15 minutes stopping at desks. It was daunting, watching each young receptionist study the map and search in the museum’s database for a roster of African American artist . All of them came up with one painting by Kehinde Wiley, John, 1st Baron Byron
I couldn’t believe that out of the entire museum collection, at that time, there was only one piece of work done by an African- American or Black American! One?
Each receptionist apologized and said it was because the museum was in the middle of making renovations.
I am not the best person when it comes down to directions so Josh lead us to the gallery and after going up and down steps and stepping on and off the elevator we were at peace.
When we entered the wing, Josh walked right and I turned left.
There it goes, Josh! Kehinde Wiley!
Oh my gosh Lilly! Look at this!
We stood watching it for a while.
We were so happy when we found Wiley’s piece that we took several pictures in front of it. Josh had more to say concerning the art- the strokes, the vibrant colors, the model. I simply was glad to see it and also unsatisfied with the museum.
Josh, who is an aesthete, was like a child. After Wiley, I was ready to go, but Josh kept stopping to read and ponder. I think he may have enjoyed the museum more than me. He definitely made our visit fun.
Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power at the Brooklyn Museum
Casey, Allyson and I at the Brooklyn Museum.
During the early winter, Casey and Allyson and I met up at the Brooklyn Museum to see the exhibit, Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power.
When I arrived at the museum, Casey was there waiting for the both of us and had already passed about 20 percent of the exhibition, which was okay since I had already saw the exhibition twice.
My friend is coming to join us.
Oh, okay.
She said she’s here but she probably is still on her way…you know how that goes.
Yep, I certainly do. We both laughed.
While we waited for Allyson to show, Casey filled me in on different art mediums. Even though I saw the exhibition twice; I had walked past certain work I did not understand. That was the work that excited her.
Like, Noah Purifoy’s work.
I love Noah Purifoy, she said, this medium is not mixed media nor is it statues, its more of ‘assemblages’. It’s one figure made using different types of materials… He collected material after the riots and made assemblages”
Only then, did I look in the case… and the nails and wood meant something.
We viewed his untitled, cased in work. On the top sat a head. Under the head a body of wood and in the wood, nails. A whole slew of nails. The only part of the figure without nails was the circular wooden head (this is as far as I can see). I understood this assemblage as the whole body of pain. The brown body in pain. The brown community in pain and the nails just stay there. Some times the nails are removed and the pain is not so severe anymore but then, they return.
After viewing Noah Purifoy’s work we looked at John Outterbridge and Betty Saar’s work… work that I had passed before.
Outterbridge’s About Martin evoked thoughts about the 1970’s. I thought about King walking the earth and fighting for a people who had been taught to turn the other cheek. He fought with that cheek. The one they had turned for generations. He fought with love and peace. Who would have thought that fighting in this way would bring change? I scanned the Moneta Sleet Jr.’s photo of Coretta that sat in the upper left corner of the open casket.
Betye Saar’s, Liberation of Aunt Jemina, wasn’t too far from Outterbridge’s About Martin. I didn’t know what to think. Is this really an image of liberation? This idea of being liberated…and putting it with an image of a woman with a gun and raised fist suggests to me that liberation has an image. Freedom looks like something. But does freedom look like guns or peaceful protest?
When Allyson arrived we viewed work from more artist. With Hammons we discussed 70’s slang. I had no idea ‘spade’ was a derogatory word.
Of course we discussed Sam Gilliam’s work. His canvas’ were eye catching.
There were some images, I kept my views to myself. I didn’t want to discuss it so much. Viewing One Nation Under God by Timothy Washington, gave me chills. It made me think of the reconstruction era and the time now. Don’t expect much, it seems to be saying. Don’t put your hopes high. Blacks are still waiting for their 40 aces and a mule. I also was moved by Charles White Wanted Poster. The wanted images have grown since then. How much different is this poster from the poster that sits in the office with all the innocent slain black and brown people? 1619- 19? is now changed. 1619- 20?.
I watched and listened as the two artist conversed about the art and gave their honest opinions. They spoke about the art as if they were giving and listening to good gossip. It was that good of a conversation.
My critical eye among Casey and Allyson had a voice and they were interested in what I had to say as well, about what I saw and how I saw it. Listening to them helped me to understand terms I read on the wall (that without my phone meant very little to me).
It also helped that they lived during the 70’s.
After we saw Howardena Pindell’s work, we moved pretty quickly through the hall.
We sat down and over broccoli soup Allyson told me about the art in the Fergus McCaffrey which lead to a conversation about race in Canada and the history of the Underground Rail Road….
- learn more about Nova Scotia (which I found out, my principal’s family is from there)
- look up information on enslaved Africans who were given freedom to travel back to Africa around 1719 or…something
- learn about The Underground railroad that went all the way to Mexico and through the west…because to run all the way North wasn’t that safe for enslave people who lived in the deep south (did not know that one…)
- When I am ready to travel to Chicago tell Allyson so she can hook me up with her friend who lives there
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