A word that appears across a lot of African-American artist Nina Chanel Abney‘s works is “wow”. Fitting, because that’s exactly what I think when I look at Nina Chanel Abney’s breadth of work. Her colors, geometric backgrounds and figures, and style that resembles cut paper are enough to illicit that sort of response.

This quote from the artist’s biography on her website perfectly encapsulates the intention and impact of her work:

Through a bracing use of color and unapologetic scale, Abney’s canvases propose a new type of history painting, one grounded in the barrage of everyday events and funneled through the velocity of the internet.

ninachanel.com

Her works, which include paintings, collages, figurines, UNO decks and other common items like plates and phone cases, deal with themes such as race, sexuality, gender, and police brutality. Every piece can be dissected and discussed for hours. Combining language, people, animals, food, and other imagery, her paintings are a mesmerizing coalescence of symbolism. Her art has been deemed provocative in that it spotlights issues that many people pretend aren’t legitimate. You could call this denial a form of gaslighting.

When I came across Whet, I immediately thought of Solange’s “Don’t Touch My Hair” (2016). An assertion of the autonomy of Black women and refusal to be seen by others–especially white women in this case–as mere objects of intrigue. A callout of how Black women are both trivialized and othered, leading to problematic understandings of Black women as existing for white pleasure and entertainment. This enduring perception is belittling and reductive. Fascination with Black women’s hair (which is inextricably tied to a cultural history), bodies, cadence, etc. can manifest as fetishization, appropriation, micro-aggressions, stereotypes, and flat-out racism.

Whet depicts a white woman, bearing a rather aggressive expression, yanking the hair of a Black woman. The white woman wears something on her head resembling a crown, maybe alluding to her entitlement. The Black woman sheds a tear, which could represent the fact that Black women must internalize their pain or otherwise be deemed as hotheaded if they assert themselves. The Angry Black Woman trope.

The letter X is another motif across Abney’s art. It could connote explicit content, barred access, negation, a number of things.

Something I noticed when looking closer at Whet was the silhouetted police bag encircled in pink at the bottom right corner. I think it serves as a reminder that the police overwhelmingly side with white folks. Vilifying Black people and victimizing white people. Historically and today.

Given its color, I imagine that the white cat at the top of the painting is the white woman herself. Abney likens the cat’s instinctive, thoughtless swatting to white women’s impulsively putting their hands on Black women. There’s so much to unpack in this image. Like I said, so many of Abney’s works carry this depth. Layers upon layers of meaning on flat surfaces. A pop art-esque array of color and movement that centralize the Black experience, discrimination, and challenges that can’t continue to go unchecked.

As you peruse a museum, it’s impossible to gloss over Francis Bacon’s haunting paintings. They look like something straight out of a horror movie–screaming out at you in terror, making it hard to look, but even harder to avert your eyes. Born in Dublin in 1909, Bacon self-proclaimed that he was a “late starter” in the art world, focusing on interior design in his earlier years.

From his initial paintings, Bacon demonstrated a fascination with the unsettling and expressed his desire to depict the “brutality of fact”. His artistic career spanned over six decades and his paintings have sold for staggering prices at auction (most recently, at virtual auctions).

Bacon’s signature style makes him easily identifiable. There’s something undeniably visceral about his works from his colors to composition to subject matter. His repertoire is stamped by series centered around a certain thematic element including The Crucifixion, Popes, and studies of heads like the one I want to examine today.

Study for a Head is a grotesque portrait of a monstrous figure. Anybody else think it closely resembles Frankenstein’s monster? The pale green complexion makes the figure appear sickly. The linear perspective extends into the background, forming a frame around the head that makes it pop even more. The golden yellow banister rail looks as though it’s piercing the figure’s head (like the screws on Frankenstein’s monster). This wide-mouthed silent scream is a motif across many of his paintings.

As a lover of horror–whether it’s graphic novels, films, or paintings–I am mesmerized by Francis Bacon’s art. Though it’s nearly impossible to separate the subject matter from the style, I think Bacon’s paint application and brushwork is stunning and really lends to the horror vibe. The streaks of color bleed into one another and he doesn’t seem to avoid imperfection.

If you want to get to know Francis Bacon on a more personal level, the Estate of Francis Bacon produced a series of interviews called Francis Bacon: First Impressions centering the question: What were your first impressions upon meeting Francis?

Yesterday was International Women’s Day. I can’t help but be a little bit facetious. Women get one day, Black Americans get one month. The recognition of the struggles of marginalized people (read: those who are not white, straight, middle- to upper-class men) are temporary. Confined to a predetermined, brief period of time.

What better work to look at the plight of women than that of Barbara Kruger? She was my–and I believe many people’s–first introduction to outwardly feminist art. I remember examining her work in my first Art History class in high school. It’s so loud, powerful, and poignant. With these biting aphorisms, Kruger both motivates and resonates. As a major figure in the Pictures Generation, Kruger knew well the impact of photographs as a form of criticism and triggers for political and social transformation.

Kruger’s signature style of white text over a maraschino cherry red band has become iconic. It may look familiar… Clothing and skateboard fashion company Supreme brands itself in a manner that looks extremely like (almost identical to) Kurger’s iconic style. This quote from Kruger for a 2013 interview captures my thoughts exactly:

“What a ridiculous clusterfuck of totally uncool jokers. I make my work about this kind of sadly foolish farce. I’m waiting for all of them to sue me for copyright infringement.”

Barbara Kruger to Complex, source

Ironically, I think this situation with Supreme speaks to some of Kruger’s most urgent messages: commodification, consumerism, and capitalism. To link all of this back to women, women are overwhelmingly objectified. Their agency is stripped from them as their viewed as bodies to be viewed and used for male pleasure. Nothing but accessories who cook, clean, look pretty, and fuck.

Untitled (Your Body Is A Battleground) challenges female passivity. The title, with Untitled preceding the visible text, makes me think both of an erased identity and a common identity. The work is untitled because women are often seen as just bodies. We lack bodily autonomy especially when it comes to reproductive rights. Just last year, Texas enacted an abortion restriction that prohibits women from receiving an abortion after 6 weeks into their pregnancy.

Women’s bodies are truly a battleground. We are objectified, denied bodily rights, assaulted, and even murdered. I think the bifurcation of the glaring woman’s face in Untitled (Your Body Is A Battleground) represents exteriority and interiority for the women as well as the way society perceives her. She is filled with rage, but composed. And to men, she is complacent, but she can also be a bitch. Women are constantly at a crossroads. We are conditioned to be easygoing, go along with things so as to not spark conflict. We often hesitate to voice our opinions, often because we are overpowered by the voices of men who are taken more seriously.

Red is the color of anger and passion. Red is loud. Red is a sign of danger. The danger we experience inflicted by men and the danger that we can be if we band together and oppose these sexist systems. To the women: your body is a battleground and your voice and actions are your ammunition. Dissent like your lives depend on it. Because they do.