Dr. Alexis Pauline Gumbs. Photo via New Black Man.
Recently while scrolling through posts on Tumblr I came across a link to an essay called Seek The Roots: An Immersive and Interactive Archive of Black Feminist Practiceby Dr. Alexis Pauline Gumbs. Within the essay, Gumbs describes the painstaking process of researching and preserving the work of black feminists, and discusses why it is important to do so.
"It's a queer thing (and by queer I mean unlikely, magical, and against the current of the reproduction of oppression) that the work of a Black lesbian teacher mother warrior poet is even preserved on a college campus, so I take the event seriously. How does one ethically and effectively engage an archive of morbid thoughts and threatened utterances from the pens of dead Black feminists? What framework allows us to share traces of un-actualized projects, out-of-print masterpieces, and forgotten victories?"
Audre Lorde. Photo via http://cache.eb.com.
Reading Seek The Roots made me appreciate the progress of technology. It has allowed for people to build broader networks around a particular interest or cause, and leveled the playing field in terms of access to information. I remember reading books like Black Feminist Thought, This Bridge Called My Back (which is sadly now out of print), and Home Girls in college when I was on a hunt for feminist perspectives that spoke to my experience as a woman of color. The books themselves were incredible resources, but it would have meant even more to have a dialog around them that was outside the traditional university classroom setting. Dr. Alexis Pauline Gumbs is a member of The EternalSummer of the Black Feminist Mind, a North Carolina based grassroots project which aims to put theory into practice and engage the community around the ideas of black feminists.
When one mentions Sudan, many things come to mind: a decades long civil war, the genocide in Darfur, and most recently, the South becoming independent from the North to form its own nation. But amongst all the trial and triumph the region has seen, Sudan has always been a place that brings forth incredible music. From the traditional sounds unique to various regions to more contemporary popular songs, Sudan's musical legacy is one of diversity and depth. And from that rich tradition comes Alsarah, a contemporary soul singer whose music is steeped in the traditional sounds of Sudan and influenced by music from various regions of Africa, the Middle East, and the United States.
Born in Sudan's capital city of Khartoum, Alsarah and her family left Sudan when she was 8 years old, and then spent 4 years in Yemen before coming to the United States in 1994. Alsarah began her musical training at age 12, and attended the Pioneer Valley Performing Arts Charter High School in Massachusetts before going on to earn a degree in Music from Wesleyan University with a concentration in Ethnomusicology.
Alsarah and the Nubatones. Photo by Carlos Ramirez
Now based in Brooklyn, New York, Alsarah is a rising star on the world music scene. She sings with Sounds of Taraab, a band playing the traditional music of the Swahili people from Africa's eastern coastline. Taraab is a blend of African, Indian, and Arabic musical styles.
Then there's Alsarah and the Nubatones, a band that blends "a selection of Nubian 'songs of return' from the 1970s through today with original material and traditional music of central Sudan."
Alsarah has also been involved in Sudan's struggle for free and fair elections, lending her creative talents to the cause with the single "Vote" featuring Sudanese hip hop artist Oddisee. The single was released as the Sudanese people took to the polls to vote for Southern Sudan's independence from Northern Sudan.
Recently, I asked Alsarah about the secession and what she hoped it would mean for Sudan, and about how her music and message is received there.
July 9th 2011 is the historic day when South Sudan gains independence from the North. What do you hope this event will mean for the Sudanese people? What changes would you like to see occur in both the North and South?
I'm so happy for South Sudan, this marks a really momentous occasion for them. I wish them nothing but prosperity and hope we can all work towards a Pan African vision of subsaharan Africa especially. I hope this also marks a radical change for the North with a democratic and fair election in the not too distant future. The current regime is nothing but an oppressive machine perpetuating hate in its wake, depleting the already drained resources of the country and pouring it into their private bank accounts in Switzerland. Talk about babylon...
You are considered a somewhat controversial artist in Sudan. Why is that? How do you feel about it?
Am I controversial? I have to confess that I don't actually consider myself to be radical in any way shape or form. I'm just stating the obvious as far as i'm concerned and echoing what many other Sudanese activists and citizens are saying too. Many of my songs are about love and about being open to it regardless of ethnic or religious difference. In Sudan these days even that is controversial if i don't present it with a hijab over my head and a sense of coyful shyness for being born a woman that apparently should be an inherent part of my gender role. I think the reason most people in Sudan think I'm controversial is because I won't present myself in the mainstream way, and that is confusing in any society I suppose. But in Sudan when you do that people are quick to try and say you can't possibly be sudani....you would be amazed how many people from Sudan try to pretend i'm from somewhere else (Ethiopia is a popular choice, Uganda I've heard too)
Photo by Carlos Ramirez
What's next for you creatively? What projects are you currently working on?
Creatively this is a very exciting year for me. I'm sowing the seeds for a lot of new things I hope to come out early next year. I'm working towards creating an English language recording project with an amazing singer/songwriter and producer, Toshi Reagon. I think this will be a really exciting step for me artistically, allowing me to show a new depth of my work that I don't get to share very often. It will mark a new beginning for me. I'm also setting the ground work for a recording project with my current band The Nubatones with whom I'm having so much fun on stage these days.
I recently read a Colorlines article entitled 5 Reasons Why People Love to Hate Kreayshawn , and it got me thinking about the state of women in hip hop today. Kreayshawn is a white female rapper from Oakland, California who has the web buzzing. Her debut single Gucci Gucci is a party song, and despite its materialistic sounding title, Kreayshawn raps about designer clothing being unimportant. One of the song's more memorable lines is, "I got the swag and it's pumping out my ovaries."
It's ironic how a White girl mimicking Black culture has been viewed as quirky, cute, and interesting in the past. But sisters who fashionably rock bamboo earrings, gold nameplate necklaces, and blonde streaked weaves will inevitably be considered "ghetto" by society. It's equally problematic that every female emcee post Queen Latifah and MC Lyte who has massive mainstream success all had to sell sex. Kreayshawn, on the other hand, is able to avoid an over sexualized image because of her whiteness.
Aisha Cousins jumping rope with braided hair for Diva Dutch.
Aisha Cousins is a Brooklyn-based performance artist whose work is unique in the sense that it creates community. As an artist who is "committed to reaching audiences that do not normally feel comfortable in museums or galleries." You're more likely to see her work on the streets of Brooklyn or Harlem or in a local business than in a gallery space. And the best part about Aisha's performance work is that anybody can join in. In fact, that's what enriches the experience. In the following interview, she talks about her most recent projects.
Please tell me about your Diva Dutch performance piece (braiding long extensions into womens' hair and inviting people to jump rope with it). What was your initial inspiration for the piece, and how has it evolved since it first started? Where have you performed Diva Dutch? Did people receive it differently based on what location you were in? Diva Dutch started as a sort of rites-of-passage for my30th birthday. I had been trying to make myself over -wearing high heels, makeup, etc.- so that I looked more "womanly" because I was tired of being mistaken for a teenager. I can't wear heels though, and I'm not big on makeup. It was torture. Finally I said "Look, I'm turning 30. All my older female friends say the great thing about the 30's is you stop worrying what other people think of you and start living for yourself. I should just embrace whatever it is that actually makes me a woman and be happy." For me, the best thing about being an adult is having the freedom and the resources to do all the things people wouldn't let you do as a kid, so I kind of ran with that and Diva Dutch was born.
Braiding hair for a Diva Dutch performance
Diva Dutch performance in Brooklyn
Since then, Diva Dutch has changed a good deal in purpose and meaning. When I first performed it on my stoop in BedStuy, I was in a neighborhood I grew up in, so it felt like that action of jumping rope, and also the hair braiding, resonated across space and time. As I jumped, I couldn't help but picture the other black women, who like me had once been little girls and jumped rope in front of their houses all along the block... and throughout the neighborhood. And I pictured all the little black girls before and after us. It seemed like something we had in common -the grandmoms, the aunties, the big sisters, the daughters, and the granddaughters. The same was true for the hairbraiding. We were very purposefully passing these acts of joyfulness and beauty on to each new generation.
Contralto singer Mabel Ritchardson in San Francisco, circa late 1930s.
For the past two years, I have been researching the history of my family. I have spent hours rummaging through old photographs and documents, constructing family trees, and scouring the internet for information about my ancestors. What an incredible journey it has been! The more I learn about my family's past, the more I long to know. The stories of the women in my family are particularly compelling. I am fascinated by the story of my great-grandmother, Mabel Ritchardson, who was a noted contralto singer in San Francisco during the 1930's. She performed pieces by Bach and Brahms, as well as spirituals, all while raising her six children in the city's Western Addition neighborhood.
A review of Ritchardson's performance in The San Francisco Spokesman reads, "Mrs. Ritchardson scored another triumph in her career when she was presented in an intimate musicale, by a group of artists at the fashionable Fairmont Hotel on Nob Hill. Mrs. Ritchardson, the only colored on the program was introduced as a cultural leader of her race. The audience was spell-bound while she sang "Come Let Us All This Day" by Bach. For encore she sang "Vittoria Mio Core" by Carissima in Italian. She appeared later on the program with a group of Negro spirituals which were enthusiastically received."
I found this review of her work, along with programs, letters, and photos Mabel saved from her singing career. I was inspired by her dedicated pursuance of her craft, especially since this was an era where a woman's "place" was considered to be in the home. In spite of the obstacles facing all women, and especially Black women, she made her dreams a reality.
Women of Candomble in Salvador Bahia, Brazil. Image via Antropologia Teatru
Many churches and religious organizations have not taken the most progressive stance when it comes to issues such as AIDS, contraception, abortion, and sexual orientation. The response of many organizations has been condemnation and in some cases outright denial that a particular issue is a problem. The churches’ response has often been out of step with the needs of those it is meant to serve. However, there are many churches from all religious denominations working to change that, and they have taken proactive steps to help provide counsel to all people, as well as access to services relevant to the community’s needs. One example of this is the Brazilian religion Candomble. Candomble houses of worship, called terreiros, are taking innovative approaches to addressing the needs of the Brazilian people.
The AIDS awareness symbol was installed at the foot of Rio's iconic Christ the Redeemer statue for World AIDS Day. Photo by Ricardo Moraes
Miss Chicago and the California Girls poster produced by the Feminist Art Program at Fresno State College, 1970-71
For centuries, women have overcome great adversity to enter institutions of higher learning. They have also broadened the scope of discussions held within, and changed the landscape of the university system.
I have been reading with delight an account of Judy Chicago’s groundbreaking Feminist Art Program founded at Fresno State College in 1970. “In 1970 [Chicago] accepted a teaching position at Fresno State College (now California State University, Fresno) with the proviso that she be allowed to develop a women’s program in the art department…Chicago chose Fresno State College because of its isolation from the art world. It served as an experimental ground where she could try to answer the question of what women students needed in order to become artists.”
J. Crew President and Creative Director Jenna Lyons. Image via Style File Blog
If you’re a fan of all things J. Crew like I am, you’re probably already familiar with the name Jenna Lyons. The J. Crew President and Executive Creative Director is the ever-visible face of the classic American clothing brand. She has been a guest on Oprah, and if you’re on J. Crew's email list, you’ve probably received Jenna’s Picks, a newsletter featuring items hand-picked by the “Commander-In-Chic” herself. Lyons goes the extra mile to put a personal touch on what goes out to the shopping public, and with our endlessly stylish First Lady Michelle Obama a J. Crew devotee, many would say she’s doing a pretty good job. Jenna openly shares her own wardrobe choices for inspiration, so shoppers can get some creative ideas of their own.
Spread from J. Crew's Spring 2011 catalog
A recent J. Crew catalog spread called Saturday With Jenna featured Lyons and her son Beckett engaged in some weekend bonding time. Mother and son gaze adoringly at one another, as she holds Beckett’s tiny feet which are (gasp!) adorned with pink toenail polish. The accompanying text reads, “Lucky for me, I ended up with a boy whose favorite color is pink. Toenail painting is way more fun in neon.”
Karen Seneferu is an emerging talent in the San Francisco Bay Area art scene. Her work is generating a lot of excitement, and deservedly so. Although she has humbly referred to herself as a "young artist," there are some artists whose work is prolific and beyond their years. Karen Seneferu's mixed media work brings to mind creative heavyweights like Betye Saar and Aminah Brenda Lynn Robinson. Like Robinson and Saar, Seneferu utilizes found materials and creates objects that are steeped in history, all with with incredible craftsmanship and intricate detail. Her most recent exhibit was Crossroad, an installation at Krowswork Gallery in Oakland, California.
Crossroadinstallation by Karen Seneferu
Seneferu's installations are always a feast for the spirit and the senses. Upon stepping into the small dark room that housed Crossroad, the viewer was greeted with a series of intricate altars and objects. Much of what was placed in the room was in deep hues of red and ebony, the colors associated with Eleggua, the trickster deity of Nigeria's Yoruba religion. Eleggua is said to preside over the crossroads of life, and acts as a gatekeeper.
Ntozake Shange reading poetry in Niger (photo via Niamey Niger US Embassy)
For much of my young life, I found myself hungry to read a certain type of story about Black women. All the stories I read about our lives were so hard. We were forever “waiting to exhale” (that even sounds painful!), enduring abusive relationships, or acting as the strong stoic type with the weight of the world on our shoulders. Although that was certainly part of our story, was that all of it? I realized the element I was searching for in the Black woman’s story was joy. Then, I was introduced to Ntozake Shange.
I came across her novel Sassafrass, Cypress & Indigo on my grandmother’s bookshelf. It was as though I had unlocked the door to a secret garden. The first page opened with these unforgettable words:
“Where there is a woman there is magic. If there is a moon falling from her mouth, she is a woman who knows her magic, who can share or not share her powers. A woman with a moon falling from her mouth, roses between her legs and tiaras of Spanish moss, this woman is a consort of the spirits.”
Shange wrote about the strength and power of Black women, but not in terms of how much turmoil and trauma they withstood in their lives. She wrote about a power that was innate, a sacred fire that burned from within.
Ntozake in an early performance of for colored girls (photo via Bettmann/Corbis)
Ntozake Shange is best known for her 1975 choreopoem for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf, which was recently made into a feature film directed by the controversial Tyler Perry.
Many of Ntozake’s characters are artists. They are painters, dancers, weavers, singers, and musicians. Shange’s artists are also often vessels for fantastic visions. When fiber artist Sassafrass receives a visit from Billie Holiday and a chorus of brightly costumed dancers in Sassafrass, Cypress & Indigo, Shange's women literally dance to the beat of their own drummers. They endure hardships, and hold onto their art ferociously. Sometimes, it is literally all they have. They create in the face of adversity, and mine the depths of their souls as material for their work.
The author herself is a true testament to creative strength and willpower. After suffering two strokes, Shange had to teach herself how to read, write, and speak all over again. She recovered and completed the critically acclaimed Some Sing, Some Cry, a novel she co-wrote with her sister, author and playwright Ifa Bayeza. The epic novel chronicles several generations of African American women from one family, all of who are musicians. The reader is taken on a journey through the history of American music, from spirituals and work songs to jazz and hip hop -- all carried by the lives of these women.
Ntozake Shange has enriched our literary and cultural landscape. She brings characters to life with dimension and complexity, and helps express the full spectrum of who we are as women.
Guerrilla Girls poster from 1988. Copyright Guerrilla Girls Inc.
How much has changed for women in the art world since the women's movement shined light on its inequalities in the 1970s and the Guerrilla Girls entered our collective consciousness in the 1980s? What is it like to be a woman artist working in the 21st Century? What difficulties do we face? Have things gotten better? I decided to ask women artists working today how they felt. (And by the way, check out a video excerpt of a recent talk the Guerrilla Girls gave at the Museum of Modern Art for some updated information on the status of women in the arts today.)
“I'd say women in the arts today struggle with being categorized as 'women in the arts' instead of just 'more amazing artists.' I feel the same about 'Black Artists.' Whether we like it or not, whether we admit it or not, there is a difference--society makes sure of that. Whether we're talking about the 1970s...or 2011, the change isn't as significant-in my opinion-as one might think.” - Artist Mallory Dover
Guerrilla Girls poster from 1985. Copyright Guerrilla Girls Inc.
“Women and women's art are still segregated. It’s a women's art show rather then an art show, or labeled feminist regardless of the content of the art. Although I suppose being a woman you just are a feminist. And 'women of color' is almost always meant to represent [an] entire race, which can be good or bad or simply not meant for that. It’s one person’s expression…” -Photographer Sara Hart
"I have to place being a woman as a secondary thing as an artist. It's actually how I like to work, so that when the piece is viewed, one is truly honoring the integrity of the work sans the gender. It's allowed my work to be seen with a strength usually reserved for male artists....I can be strong...and can be raw...and not apologize for it." -Painter Kimberly M. Becoat
"'Keeping it truckin’ on the high road is always a challenge. They don’t tell you, but the high road is full of sinkholes and the tolls are crazy expensive. Low road? Free ride and smoother than a billiard ball, baby. My struggle as a writer, particularly writing for and about women of color, is that I know that I can knock out a magazine article on ‘Back-stabbing Girlfriends’ or ‘Down-low Brothers’ and get ten, maybe even fifty times the readers as I do with a “positive” piece. That’s nothing new, bad news always attracts more eyeballs, but it’s particularly sticky when dealing with issues of race--because I know the history and I want no part of something that is going to cause us harm. So, that means being creative, and constantly trying to find new ways of sexy-ing up the real, of repackaging the good medicine in the latest IT bag." -Writer Black Lily
"Surprisingly, I feel like since I switched from 2D mixed media over to performance art, gender has stopped being a major point of discrimination. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that my work is often about black women and they are also often my primary target audience. Doing public performance means I am often responsible for creating the avenues through which people initially view my work. I also tend to apply to places or events where there are lots of black women, so these places are often excited about me being black and female as opposed to put off by it. So far, the people who run these spaces or events that I have shown my work at have been predominantly women. Perhaps this is rise in female curators and arts professionals is what is making the difference." -Performance artist Aisha Cousins
While these artists all had varying perspectives on what it means to be a woman in the arts today, it's clear that whatever barriers there may be, it's not stopping them from creating or having successful careers. There are still obstacles to be overcome, but there have also been changes for the better. As Aisha noted, there are more female arts professionals in the field today. There are more alternative spaces artists can show their work in, and the introduction of the internet has helped level the playing field in that artists can promote their own work and reach a wider audience quickly, for little or no money. This means that the major museums and galleries--long the primary taste makers, and venues that excluded women and artists of color--are not the only way for an artist to make a name for herself.
From uphill invisible swimming performance series copyright Kelly Shaw Willman
As an avant-garde performance artist, a vocalist, an experimental poet, and multimedia artist, Kelly Shaw Willman's creativity spans many mediums. Her work is an intricately woven into her life’s journey, making her performances deeply personal. Willman’s performances have taken place in the remote woods of Maine to a sunny Iowa farm to a dimly lit living room in Brooklyn. She has an uncanny ability to transform spaces and to draw the audience into her inner world.
From the uphill invisible swimming performance series. Copyright Kelly Shaw Willman
According to her website Kelly was "born & raised amongst the cornfields & creek-beds of eastern Iowa, but a life-long obsession with the ocean inspires her to one day settle in a self-sustaining ((coastal)) arts space... Kelly migrates through these creative times as an original daughter of the waves & seeker of glowing trails."
Kelly's performances invoke a sense of magic and involve ritualistic processes with objects and symbols that give her work layered meaning. There are recorded sounds and voices played back on tape recorders, apples being sliced, honey being poured, and copious amounts of glitter in Willman's sacred space.
From Kelly's grunge*quest performance series. Image copyright Kelly Shaw Willman
Spirituality and the sacred within art practice is a common theme in my ongoing creative discussions with Kelly. During one such exchange over email, she had this to say:
"The community of artists I gravitate toward is operating from spaces that are more energy-based, more mystical. Sounds are words. Color and iconography (in placement and mere presence) equate efforts to communicate a deeper meaning: something of the spirit, of a life past, of a shape shifted, of a message received, of a dream...I think a newfound fixation on this creative magic is much more intensified in the artists of now."
From Kelly's uphill invisible swimming performance series. Copyright Kelly Shaw Willman
From uphill invisible swimming performance series. Copyright Kelly Shaw Willman
In Kelly's most recent works, part of her uphill invisible swimming performance series, her body becomes the vessel for her sacred rituals. The pieces bring to mind the work of the late artist Ana Mendieta, whose groundbreaking works incorporated her own body and explored themes of ritual, spirituality, and her own identity. She coined the term "earth-body work," as a way of "resisting the terminology that she felt the art world establishment tried to impose on her." (Olga Viso, Unseen Mendieta). And much like Mendieta, Willman resists putting labels on her work. "I am...not attracted to the exercise of labeling art or beings...I prefer no labels on my work or on my sleeve..."
The strength of Willman's work is that it is so personal, so uniquely her own. Through performance, sound, and image, she has developed a personal iconography that charts the journey of her life. In documenting her own course, she invites each of us to consider the beauty and lessons of our own paths.
From uphill invisible swimming series. Copyright Kelly Shaw Willman
Kelly Shaw Willman is an exciting young artist we'll definitely be hearing much more from in the future. Keep up with her creative process on her blog, check out her facebook fan page, and view more performance photos on her flickr page.
Maluca performs at Mad Decent Block Party in Philadelphia, photo by John Sisk
One of the artists taking New York’s music scene by storm is Maluca, also known as La Maluca Mala.
Maluca is the daughter of Dominican immigrants, and was born and raised in New York City. She recently spoke to Large Up about the inspiration she gets from the city. “New York influences my music. Everyone who’s here…the style…the vernacular…inspires the kind of music that I’ve made, the lyrics that I write, the way I dress, the way I am.”
Maluca's music in many ways reflects New York’s cultural melting pot. Her beats are a mash-up of dance music from the Dominican Republic and South America, as well as Dutch house music. One thing that comes through in Maluca’s sound as well as her interviews is her extensive knowledge of music from all over the map. Maluca digs through thrift store record crates for various forms of cumbia music, and points out the African roots of sounds from the Dominican Republic and other parts of the Caribbean.
Traveling off the beaten path to discover musical gems was part of Maluca's upbringing. In an interview with MTV's mun2 network, she says "My father used to be a DJ in the '70s and '80s. When I was kid he worked at [the record label] Delicious Vinyl ... He put me on to so much new and old stuff ... I remember feeling 'cool,' like my dad let me be part of a special club, 'cause I knew my friends weren't listening to this stuff."
Maluca photographed in New York City by Aviva Klein
The sound for Maluca's best known track, El Tigeraso, was inspired by “mambo violento”, a sped-up style of merengue music.The video for El Tigeraso takes the viewer to Audobon and West 182nd Street, an intersection in Washington Heights, the heart of New York City’s Dominican community. Maluca struts down the street wearing curlers in her hair and red high heels. But it’s when she hits a nightclub later in the evening that she really gets comfortable: she dons house slippers and socks. In her hair, a crown of beer cans serving as rollers are spray painted gold.
The song's lyrics were inspired by an issue many women deal with every day: cat calls and harassment on the street. "Dominicans call the bad boys on the corner who are up to no good – but who have mad swag – Tigeres. 'El Tigeraso' is the game or swag. Growing up, I would go visit my cousins or grandma uptown. Back then, you couldn't get from one corner to the next without those 'Tigeres' trying to holler at you. It was kinda outta control. Especially if you walked down Broadway. So the song 'El Tigeraso' is poking fun at that whole situation."
Maluca’s China Food mixtape (available as a free download on her website) is an up-tempo romp through rock, hip hop, dancehall, and Latin and Caribbean rhythms. The strength of China Food is in its fusion, and Maluca’s experimentation with music from such varied genres. Maluca's rise on the airwaves represents an exciting new chapter in music. She shares the spotlight with young musical heavyweights like Lady Gaga and M.I.A. who are cultivating a sound and a style that is all their own.
The Art Museum at Mills College in Oakland, California is currently exhibiting a five-channel video installation by Danish artist Laerke Lauta entitled Floating Female. The installation, a commission by the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego (MCASD), is beautifully ethereal and heavy with suspense. The videos, which are projected in larger-than-life size on the museum walls, “map internal and external states of consciousness.”
One part of the installation representing a more external state of consciousness sets the scene in an intimate lounge. People seated in the softly lit room are engaged in conversation, and several empty beer bottles sit on a nearby tabletop. At the center of it all, a woman in a short red dress dances to softly pulsating house music with wild abandon. As she dances like no one was watching, someone clearly is: a man reclines on a nearby loveseat, taking in her performance with a bemused expression on his face. As the woman dances, seemingly without a care in the world, the suspense builds: Does she know this man? Is she intoxicated? What if she gets too carried away? Is the man an admirer, or could he pose a threat to her safety? I suddenly become very aware of all the things women must take notice of when they go out. I began to see this dancer as someone engaged in an audacious moment of pure freedom.
The exhibition, which was curated by Dr. Robin Clark at MCASD, “draw[s] from a northern European tradition that ascribes romantic, spiritual, and enigmatic qualities to the natural landscape. Lauta’s works are characterized by an undertone of unresolved suspense, the latent fear of a fatal event that is not directly revealed.”
One of the most arresting features in the exhibition is a diptych piece projected on two opposing walls. In one projection, a woman with white feathered wings floats on the surface of a body of water. We can see the wind blowing her feathers; she literally embodies the Floating Female. The camera is at close range, and with her wings spread wide, the woman appears to almost be flying on top of the water. The atmosphere this image creates is peaceful and dreamlike. But on the opposite wall, a simple shift in perspective changes everything: the camera angle shifts to the side, and the same figure that looked so free now appears to be a corpse floating face down in the water.
With freedom comes great risk, and an element of danger. Laerke Lauta’s work brings together feelings of exhilaration, suspense, and danger. She takes her audience to the edge and lets us gaze over the cliff through her eyes. Floating Female is on display at the Mills College Art Museum until March 13th, 2011, with a lecture by Lauta on February 22nd. For more information on Laerke Lauta and her work, please visit her web site.
