"It is an artist duty to reflect the times in which we live."
Nina Simone is right.
Black Lives Matters has been one huge defining movement built from the anger and aggression of living in an unjust, oppressive system called "America." A most disheartening couple of days
with juries choosing not to indict the prison responsible for Sandra
Bland's "suicide" or not holding the officers accountable for murdering
Freddie Gray or Tamir Rice. The list of police and "vigilantes" getting slaps on bloody, guiltless wrists continues to grow. Without shadow of a doubt
being born black is rules enough for ones own death regardless of age.
Art becomes reason to create, to let out agitated breath.
In New York City, two prominent female painters created two different poignant bodies of work in their separate solo shows-- Nina Chanel Abney and Jordan Casteel.
Embedded with imperative numerology and capitalized text, Abney shed a grisly confrontational
reflection on police brutality, on white supremacy. Her exhibition, ironically entitled "Always a Winner," depicted that marginalized people cannot rely on heroes vilifying them. It's the marginalized people being on the other end of blasted words and guns-- those are the reaped benefits, the prize rewards of existing. Black men are treated like vicious criminals and black women are objectified.
According to the dictionary police means "the civil force of a national or local government, responsible for
the prevention and detection of crime and the maintenance of public
order."
Except, Abney has painted police officers as demonic monsters abusing power, matching the ferocity of a barking dog. They are violent in action and appearance, looking stern, remorseless, inhuman.
Sophisticated strategies between flat colored imagery and volumetric line were instrumental elements of Abney's traumatic narratives. Crowns are repetitive shapes around vulnerable black bodies. Yet broad markers and thick strikes indicated the significant body count rising and rising each day-- whether it's endless incarceration or the cycle of hashtag death toll. The censor and uncensored scenes were familiar territory, opening painful wounds and deep sorrow.
Who, unique ultrachrome pigmented print, acrylic, spray paint on canvas,
96" x 112," 2015.
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What, unique ultrachrome pigmented print, acrylic, spray paint on canvas,
96" x 112," 2015.
|
Where, unique ultrachrome pigmented print, acrylic, spray paint on canvas,
96" x 96," 2015.
|
While Abney kept a blatant opened mind on brutal events, at
Sargents Daughters, artist Jordan Casteel somberly painted the black male body
alive and in sync with another black male body. In "Brothers," large scale
portraits intimately portrayed positive relationships, fulfilling a kindred need to reveal the sincere
tenderness the black male feels for another black male. It was the kind of support, love, and
companionship rarely bestowed in societal reflection-- a wonderful humanized character trait.
Newspapers are
always so quick to bring up the dreadful past whether it be poor education or juvenile detention or jail lockups, but never consider the bonding
of blood relations and friendship family. Casteel's layered brushstrokes and beguiling color choices set an affectionate mood, dismissing contrived filter and putrid garbage. Each composition held beautiful integrity, a beautiful story to share.
Casteel's work is so moving, so
pivotal, so necessary that it's impossible to not want to linger
further at not just the faces and the hands, but the environments
where these beautiful brown bodies are placed, positioned. Objects, books, important colors
signify great importance, a wealth that is not necessarily monetary.
These valued bonds are irreplaceable.
Three Lions, 54" x 72," oil on canvas, 2015. |
Miles and Jojo, oil on canvas, 54" x 72," 2015. |
Ron and Jordan, 72" x 54," oil on canvas, 2015. |
Abney told harsh fathomless aftermath. Casteel embraced heartfelt calm before petulant storm.
Together both women artists reflected on history's past and present, leaving behind strong conscious fist bumps in the midst of their visual geniuses.