I was scrolling through LinkedIn today and ran across an ArtNet article that was a wonderful expression of what success and achievement can look like.
The context of the article describes how successful Black artists and artists of color are taking their success and investing it in various programs and residencies for up and coming young artists of color, whether through time or funding. These residencies provide the tools young artists need to become small business owners, which, as an artist, you essentially are.
The reason for this post though, had to do with the comments section and the general replies from white people about the success of Black artists. Here is one example:
Who this person is does not matter as much as the statement they are making. To call art color blind is like saying that the color of an orange doesn't matter, except without all of the repercussions that a racist society can have on a Black body that is not an orange.
It was a small interruption, a baby step, but interrupting racism is really one step at a time. I understand that I will make missteps, I will put my foot in my mouth, and I will apologize for those missteps. I don't expect that this level of change, which is both personal and for the benefit of everyone I interact with in my community, to be easy. It will be messy. I will have to come to terms with my upbringing, the privilege that colors my very existence as a white women in this society.
I will not be undertaking this journey in a void. Before I even commented on the post above, I armed myself by doing research on my opinions. Yes, I know and understand colorblindness is ill-intentioned, but what can I say that might possibly resonate? And I'll be clear here, the words that I used were not my own, and I did not give credit. So, let me give credit where credit is due - thank you Samantha Vincenty (and whomever her research led her to) and Oprah Magazine for the words to help me on my journey. Eventually, I'll be able to tackle these situations using the new language I continue to learn from such encounters.
I didn't stop at Oprah Magazine, although I appreciated the perspective and simplicity of the argument provided by Vincenty. I also did a bit of a deep dive into the American Psychology Association's book 'The Myth of Racial Color Blindness.'
Here is an excerpt:
The persistence of racial disparities in education, health, wealth, poverty, and incarceration supports the notion that we live in racially hierarchical society, which affords unearned benefits to White Americans and unfairly burdens people of color. The very existence of these disparities challenges claims that race does not matter in U.S. society. Read More...
I understand that this is just the tip of a very large 400+ year old iceberg. I just want to set my intention for the new year, that it is an iceberg that I, as a white person, will do my best to topple.
All quotes from Samantha Vincenty article, 'Being Colorblind doesn't make you not racist - In fact, it can mean the opposite' from Oprah Magazine, published on June 12, 2020.
Summer is lots of things to me - BBQ's with friends, camping, backpacking, kayaking, swimming. Notice a theme, here? The outdoors play an essential role in my calendar. The other factor, which can thwart the best laid plans, is fire.
I am certain you've all heard the news surrounding the fires in Washington, Oregon, and California. Every year it seems we have a few weeks where we are ensconced in smoke from flames that are miles and miles away, or occasionally, right down the road.
This led me to think about how art and artists play with fire. I was first reminded of Cai Guo-Qiang. (For those of you in the know, he was the artist responsible for the "Tumbling Tauruses" hanging in the lobby at the Seattle Art Museum.) Guo-Qiang works specifically with gunpowder, or huoyao - which means "fire medicine."
Most recognized for his site-specific projects, his work features the use of "explosion events." Using large fireworks displays and extensive trails of gunpowder, his works have spanned landscapes, propelled off building tops, and ignited footsteps in rhythmic time across cities.
Cai Guo Qiang, “Remembrance,” chapter two of Elegy, an explosion event for the opening of “Cai Guo-Qiang: The Ninth Wave,” Courtesy of photographer Lin Yi.
One of Cai's most notorious explosion events was "Sky Ladder." The project, two decades in the making, had many false starts and stops. From bad weather, to security concerns, to forest fire risks, Cai was stymied with the process of seeking official permission. Eventually, he went ahead without it.
“This is where I want to make a ladder to connect the Earth to the universe."
Cai Guo Qiang, Sky Ladder (2015). Courtesy of Cai Studio/Netflix.
Sky Ladder was realized in secret at Huiyu Island Harbour, Quanzhou, Fujian, on June 15, 2015 at 4:49 am, and was a dedication to his 100 year old grandmother, who died a month later. It was a fitting tribute, not only to his dear grandmother, but to the idea of gunpowder as being a "fire medicine," and one of China's most significant contributions to the world. “They were actually looking for an elixir to make themselves immortal,” said Guo-Qiang.
The fireworks industry has clearly reaped the rewards of Cai's artistic innovation and use, and works alongside him to develop his creations and bring his increasingly complex visions to life. But these explosion events are only one side of Cai Guo-Qiang. He also harnesses the elements of the medium for his gunpowder paintings.
Tree with Yellow Blossoms, Cai Guo-Qiang, 2009
Cai's gunpowder paintings are a spontaneous act of careful preparation. The thought-provoking designs are generally natural forms that generate a feeling of wildness and wind in the composition. Once drawn, he sprinkles gunpowder over the canvas, covers it, and ignites it. "There's always a prevalent sense of anxiety and uncontrollability in the work — and that's a lot like life," he explains.
It's kind of hard to imagine, right? Watch this for a fantastic glimpse into his process.
The use of fire to destroy is prevalent in art and art history. For example, in 1970, John Baldessari burned all of the paintings he created between 1953 and 1966. From the ashes of those paintings, he created a new piece entitled, "The Cremation Project." The piece consisted of the ashes of his work, which he baked into cookies and placed in an urn. The bronze plaque that accompanies the piece has the birth and death of each painting, as well as the recipe for making the cookies.
With Cai and John, fire is used as a tool of renewal and expression. A way to both create, and recreate using the unpredictability of a medium known for destruction. In a sense, the cremation and explosion becomes a metaphor for the human life cycle in a piece of art.
Joan Miró took a slightly different view. In the 1970's, angered and frustrated by the politics of Spain, Miró began a series of works he called "burnt and lacerated canvasses."
‘I love to work with fire. Fire has unforeseeable reactions. It destroys less than it transforms, it acts on what it burns with an inventive force which possesses magic. I wanted to paint with fire and by fire.’
‘The artist does not live in bliss. He is sensitive to the world, to the pulsation of his time, to the events which compel him to act. This is bound to happen. This is not an intellectual attitude but a profound feeling, something like a cry of joy which delivers you from anguish.’
I don't think I could say it any better than that. Have a safe summer - and remember - always put your campfire out before you go.
© Joan Miró, Burnt Canvas I, 1973.
I love color. I enjoy the reaction of color that happens in different light situations, the playfulness of color in fashion, and the way a variety of visual artists use color to accent, disguise, and illustrate.
Color has a way of colliding in certain ways that can attract or even detract the eye. It can be used in subtle gestures to move the eye through a frame, or to boldly declare small intentions of space.
Take Hope Gangloff, who's work I admire, for example. Her ability to create visual narratives using simple, everyday still life moments using her friends, her family, and her living space create a richness in her artistic style. Her bold use of color creates dramatic texture, playful patterns, and an unusual sense of movement and scale within her work.
“The most uncommon color combinations do the strangest things."
- Hope Gangloff
I recently read an article about Hope in The New York Times - "In the Studio with an Artist who paints in a Color Trance". As a photographer who doesn't enjoy being in front of the camera (who's with me?), I can associate with Hope's desire to not have her face photographed, that simply being a painter is what matters (not her face, or her gender). I also enjoy her fiercely political nature, and that her love of art is what drives her ambition - not lucrative commissions.
What really keeps me coming back to Gangloff's work is her David Hockney-esque ability to articulate nature and humanity in aggressive yet pleasing color interactions. That graphic quality just sings to my eye, and it is something that is not as easily achieved as you might think. There is science in that magic.
An excellent reference for color interactions is Josef Albers Interaction of Color. In his book, Albers encourages readers to engage with colors that might otherwise be offensive to them, in the hopes of "overcoming their prejudices." Albers encourages experimentation through questioning, practice, and engagement, rather than just information. As one critic wrote in regards to his book, "In an age in which increased human sensibility has become such a need in all areas of human involvement, color sensitivity and awareness can constitute a major weapon against forces of insensitivity and brutalization."
I can't think of a better or more relevant explanation than that, particularly in today's news climate, on how important it is to see and understand color. Can you?
If you are interested in seeing more of Hope Gangloff - she has a show opening at the Halsey McKay Gallery in East Hampton, NY on June 30th which runs through July 31st, 2018. Or, take a peek at her website - hope-gangloff.com.
Musings on business, womanhood, consulting, and things I find interesting.