- A Curated Experience -
The Power of Art Museums and Curation
The Power of Art Museums and Curation
Prompt: "Looking" Critically Through Curation and Human Engagement
Include 3-5 artworks by several Contemporary American artists of color currently on view in virtual or literal galleries. Order your gallery choices in a way that you can construct a dialogue or narrative from one artwork to the next.
In August of 2024, I visited the Virginia Steele Scott Galleries of American Art at The Huntington. The first room I entered was an exhibit dedicated to pottery during early Colonial America, centering stoneware made by enslaved African American potters. Walking through the rest of the museum, I saw paintings depicting the landscapes of colonial America, furniture from various periods, and other artifacts that all said something about their time and place of origin. Distinctively absent, however, are paintings depicting African Americans (or really any people of color for that matter). As far as I can remember, the only artwork by African American artists on display was the stoneware.
One of the stoneware on display.
David Drake (American, 1800–1865), Storage jar, Sept. 19, 1862, alkaline-glazed stoneware.
Historically, African American artists have been marginalized in art museums. As Professor Cooks puts it in Chapter 13 of the Humanities Core Handbook, these exhibition spaces have the power to construct narratives of cultural history, and yet they've long excluded the voices of those who deserved as much to be heard as any others. For this, curators hold immense power. When you walk into an art museum, the expectation is that what you see is something that has been deemed "worthy" of display for holding a great level of significance. As such, exclusion is just as telling as inclusion.
My curation, titled Liberation Through Abstraction, follows the theme of the cultural representation of African Americans and features artworks by three different black artists who express their identities through the art of abstraction.
Acrylic paint, paper, fabric, on pigment printed canvas, with vinyl, TV antenna, and aluminum foil. 83 in × 44 in. From the "LIVE and IN COLOR" series.
This artwork is a part of the collage series Live and In Color by artist Derrick Adams, in which he explores the representation of Black Americans in television and the impact of media stereotypes.
Back in the '70s and '90s, mainstream television shows often featured black characters who were hyperbolic caricatures with over-the-top personalities. As Adams explains:
❝ [F]or some people watching these shows, that’s the only representation of black people they have. These characters become representations of the black personality. ❞
The TV screen is covered with strips of dashiki, a garment traditionally worn in West African cultures. To me, the inclusion of a fabric that symbolizes African heritage and Black pride exemplifies the "ideal" representation of black Americans in television, where black characters have well-written, complex personalities, and their cultural heritage is treated with respect by the writers.
The fabric leaking out of the TV frame breaks the barrier between fiction and reality, emphasizing the interconnectedness between the two. As someone who's a strong believer in the statement "all art is political," I feel that what we see in media is not only a reflection of reality, but it also has the power to influence our perception of the world.
I find it interesting that the fabrics are cut and arranged to resemble SMPTE color bars. This iconic pattern has been seen by millions, if not billions of people, and is instantly recognizable. Since SMPTE color bars are used by engineers to calibrate signals, in the context of this artwork, perhaps its usage is a reminder that everything we see on television is curated and intended to convey a certain message. Think about the many racist portrayals of black people in early American films. For such a portrayal to make it to the final product, it must've been intentional on the script writer's part, approved by directors, and greenlit by executives.
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When I look at this artwork, my gaze is immediately drawn to the zigzag smack dab in the middle. The bold stroke and neon green resemble a neon light effect achieved with spray paint, the kind that you would see in street art. Biggers uses the graffiti technique to engage in the concept of code-switching between high and low art. High art being gallery art versus graffiti street art which is probably called vandalism more than art.
The zig-zag stands out against a background of a mushy, organic blend of fabric and colors, as the horizontal lines make it look like it's been digitally edited onto the quilt. To me, this represents defiance. The haphazardly applied blue paint accentuates this notion of resistance, as it conveys a motion of urgency and the action of disregarding rules. The gold shining bright reminds me of the perseverance of humanity.
Street art like graffiti is an act of defiance against authority. In a similar vein, blackness is defiance. For enslaved Africans, quilt-making was their way of expressing and maintaining individuality, against a cruel system of servitude that sought to strip them of their humanity. Much like the dashiki in the previous artwork, the quilts are another symbol of African American cultural heritage.
Antique quilt, assorted textiles, acrylic, spray paint. 75 3/4 in × 78 1/4 in. From the "Codex" series.
A building in Oceanwide Plaza, an unfinished residential and retail complex in downtown LA, is tagged with graffiti. (Image by u/OcherSagaPurple)
Historically, American abstraction has been viewed as a rigidly ethno-European art form. In recent decades, there has been an insurgence of African American artists who embraced abstraction in a rebellious gesture. Graffiti, much like abstraction, offers a space for black artists to express themselves authentically, in part due to the anonymous nature of these art forms. The above artwork by Biggers and the following artwork by Millett both fall into this category. With abstraction, you get to know the artist through their creative vision, without knowing the color of their sky or anything about their appearance.
I found this artwork to be especially challenging because, to be honest, I don't really know what to make of it. Yes, I did just write multiple paragraphs of analysis but I feel like there's so much going on in this artwork that it's hard to tell if I'm reading too much into something that might not even be there. While I do acknowledge that there's no "correct" way to interpret art, it's hard to shake the feeling of "what if I'm just making stuff up." One thing that still troubles me is the title of this artwork. Its namesake is Paul Mooneym, whom a New York Times article calls a "boundary-pushing comedian . . . who made his views on race, racism and social justice abundantly clear." I had thought this would make a nice connection to the previous artwork through the black figures on television aspect, but I don't really see how the comedian is represented in this artwork.
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Quilted fabric. 78 in × 104 in.
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Cosmic Code is a collage quilt made of multiple quilts deconstructed and stitched back together. Encoded within each quilt is a long history of the intricate patterns that adorn the fabric and a tradition passed among many generations. To quote Millet,
❝quilts of the 19th and 20th centuries are so rich with the black experience . . . Each piece [of quilt] is not only a work of art but a story. ❞
The many, many squares of fabric that make up this quilt call upon the laborious process of meticulously stitching a quilt together. An arduous task, yes, but one made with love and care.
Before the Quilts of Gee's Bend were brought into museums, quilts were not seen as art by the art world. But perhaps it is because they existed outside of its sphere of influence, that quilt makers were able to create art truly reflective of their lived experiences. Millet's artwork connects the unconstrained creativity of quiltmakers and the unconstrained possibilities of the cosmos.
Within this artwork, I see the depiction of the birth of a new star. The peculiar oval shape is reminiscent of a protoplanetary disk which surrounds a young, newly formed star. Energy radiates from the center, going from red (hot, extreme heat) to blue (calm, coolness), symbolizing transformation and rebirth. Perhaps this artwork is a bridge between the past and the future of African American art.
There's something about this artwork that mesmerizes me. Maybe it's the way the vibrant orange-red somehow doesn't clash with the more muted blues or the way that the squares of fabric form a circular shape. It's aesthetically pleasing to the eye. It also reminds me of Minecraft Ender Pearls.
Ohh boy, this one was a struggle to write. A pain in the butt, even.
Out of all 4 digital archive entries so far, this one took me the longest to complete by a long shot. To be brutally honest, I didn't really enjoy the process, but that's on me. Going in, I didn't have a clear vision of what I wanted to do. As it turns out, it's very difficult to curate a collection when you don't have a theme beyond the vague notion of "abstraction of Black identity." I started by choosing artworks that aesthetically looked like they belonged next to each other (e.g. all 2D/flat artworks), but quickly realized that more importantly, these artworks need to share a connection beyond "they are made of the same material." Most of my time was spent choosing the artworks and reading interviews of the artists. There are a couple of artworks that I really, really liked, and I'm so sad that they didn't make the cut. But it's a sacrifice I had to make; thematically, the artwork next to each other just didn't work out. TLDR: curation is hard.
Before this unit, I didn't pay too much attention to the material of an artwork. After all, the material is just what the art is made up of, isn't the actual content what matters? Now, I see that an artwork's materials can tell you a lot about an artwork's hidden meaning. I also recognize more clearly now that knowing the context in which an artwork is made can allow you to appreciate it so much more. There's a reason why museums put a little context card next to an artwork.
Update (03/06/2025): I definitely plan on reformatting this page sometime... hopefully soon, but right now this page remains my least favorite entry and it's gonna take a bit of an effort to conjure up the motivation to fix it lol
Update (03/22/2025): I've reworked the page and I like it so much better now! Updated the formatting and added new content. The weakest part of this page is still making connections between the artworks, but I'm satisfied with the final product so I'll just leave it as is :]
Sources:
"Chapter 14: What's Wrong with Musuems? African American Artists Review Art History" by Bridget R. Cooks in Humanities Core Handbook: Worldbuilding 2024–2025
Artist Explores The Vibrant, Complex History Of Blackness On Television | HuffPost Entertainment
Sanford Biggers weaves new threads into American history | Wallpaper
New Layers of Meaning: In Conversation with Sanford Biggers - Burnaway
Abstract Subjects: Adia Millett, Abstraction, and the Black Aesthetic Tradition
Background Images:
https://huntington.org/virginia-steele-scott-galleries
https://rwongphoto.photoshelter.com/image/I0000Z5xxwyXlvHY
https://www.enchanted.media/smpte-color-bars/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:NGC7293_(2004).jpg
Header Image: Caldwell 63
Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team