Coco Fusco – due 10.25

First Thoughts:

My initial thoughts while looking at this piece were that the photos were taken at barrios in a Latin country. I have seen a lot of blocks and buildings that look similar when I’ve gone to countries like Colombia, Costa Rica, and Mexico. For some reason, my thoughts went to Cuba as the place where these were taken and I wasn’t exactly sure why. It could have been the colorful blue building or how hot and dry it seems in the pictures, but also could be because of a new television show I watched based on Cubans. The women stood out to me because she seemed like the store owner that barrios tend to have in their communities. She seems like she has a lot of stories and is personable but also is bad ass in a way.

Deeper Analysis

My thoughts on the photo set changed a bit as I continued to observe the photo set. It was almost like taking a journey in my mind as I began to form one idea and then a different meaning hit me and completely contradicted the initial thoughts I was having during my extended observation of the piece. For some reason, the pictures began to look almost homey to me even though I have never lived in a location like that but my thoughts kept going back to my grandmother and mom. Thinking back to stories they’ve told me from their past and reaching back to a few memories I have from driving by places they knew or grew up when I visited Colombia is what I think made me think about the pictures in a homey way. Especially leaning more towards my grandmothers past because she actually grew up with very little and lived in similar circumstances. As I thought about this more and looked at the pictures, I realized how wrong I was with the feelings of home. The buildings and surroundings showed in the pictures to me looked like they were supposed to be that way and if they weren’t, if they were more clean and modern, it would seem like it’s almost not authentic. It hit me that for me, this is what I expect to see when I think about Latin countries and it’s normal for everything to look so underwhelming. I realized how upsetting and wrong it was that this was the idea I had of what those places should look like because just because it’s what people are used to it doesn’t mean it’s good. The photographer, Rubén Natal-San Miguel, captured places that seem so typical of what to expect in areas like that, these pictures actually being Puerto Rico, in media and such but the buildings are abandoned. They’re boarded off and up for sale and it shows the economic situation that countries like Puerto Rico are dealing with. Media will show places like that filled with families, little kids playing in the streets, elderly sitting on the porches and in real photographs, those places are abandoned. Looking back at the picture of Carmen the bartender, it sticks out to me that the place looks empty and once again that’s something that I wouldn’t expect from a place like that. Reflecting further on the photos my thoughts went from “pretty blue building” to thinking it was “homey” to realizing how lonely and sad everything looked. The photo of the word “outrage” on the fence pretty much summarizes what I ending up feeling from the photos and one can only imagine how the actual people who wrote that feel. Something with so much potential and beauty just seemed dead.

 

 

 

Unoxuno by Melissa Calderon

 

At first glance, this piece says little about anyone’s culture, let alone any form of defiance against cultural appropriation. There is a blue, long, braided textile spread across a wooden surface – most likely a table – with two red circular marks along the left side of the cloth. The view is an overhead one which gives the viewer the illusion of standing over the object. The wood is natural looking – maybe she appreciates the beauty of simple things? The surreal thing about this painting is that the wood looks as real and natural as it gets, however, the string (I’m assuming) is animated; the white string running along the larger blue one looks like a drawn-on line and the blue itself has strokes of different shades of blue. We can also see this was intentional due to the lack of a shadow. Why would the artist place something so animated against something realistic?

After taking a long look and reading Coco’s essay, the simplistic painting revealed so much more information. Calderon might have made the contrast between reality and fiction as a political statement. The fact that the wood was made to look so real hinted at a bigger issue:  one’s true history being wrapped by western interpretations. Wood comes from trees and trees are living things. That being said, the rings around the red spots tell the observer how old that tree is. Given the ripples around the spots, I’d say the tree is old. The blue fabric is unravelled – like DNA – but Calderon made it obviously fake. This might have been her way of pointing out the wrongness of European interpretations of Hispanic culture. The cloth symbolizes the expected roles of Hispanic women; the “it runs in their DNA” perceptions of Westerners are represented by the animated-like string and is placed against the old wooden surface (a surface that may be as old as the false interpretations.

Coco’s essay made me think about how important perception is. The truth of multiple, diverse civilizations becomes lost when aggressive forces – white Europeans – need to find evidence that supports their theory of racial superiority. Since Columbus, non- European cultures have been placed on display as uncivilized and exotic peoples in need of enlightenment. In layman terms, white people needed to boost their ego. By using their influence to intimidate other cultures into submission, the Europeans created stereotypes about indigenous peoples that were written in history as absolute fact.

Calderon’s artwork is an act of rebellion because she is attempting to call out the biased way of thinking among Europeans and Americans. By placing a false blue cloth – a symbol of cultural gender roles – against a wooden background – the hard truth, she is separating the western interpretations from reality. She also uses small things, like the DNA-like structure of the string in an animated setting, to make larger statements. The culture of Hispanics has been manipulated into a westerners’ fantasy and passed off for too many generations as truth. In Coco’s essay, the bold move of pretending to be exotic, undiscovered peoples in order to expose the white man’s tenacity of appropriating “inferior” cultures, is the response to the messages sent by artists like Calderon. The “unconscious structures of belief” aspect of the piece is that the Europeans don’t realize that they are misinterpreting the truth; it’s basic confirmation bias – they will view these cultures in a primitive light if it helps to prove that Europeans are the dominant and superior race.

The message that Calderon was trying to relay was well hidden and many might have missed it like I had at first glance.  Both Coco and Calderon’s methods of attacking the threat to their culture’s history are an intelligent use of bait and perception.

Tu Afro no cabe en la foto-Alex Guerrero

Eight Seconds:

My first impression of this artwork is how the subject’s afro takes up the majority of the print. This makes me think that the artist considers the afro a very important part of the subject’s identity. The overflow of the subject’s afro from the first frame seems to be an act of rebellion against the norm, the norm being hair that is able to fit in the frame (straighter, less volume). The subject seems to be proving that she has more to offer than what is asked/accepted in society, her afro serving as her symbol for her message. Also, the borders seem to be part of the print, as opposed to just being the background.

Ten Minutes:

After observing the artwork for ten minutes, I was able to take in Alex Guerrero’s message much deeper. I was able to see why Coco Fusco claims that art is an effective tool to fight racism and other justice issues. Alex Guerrero’s fights against the western beauty standards that claim being beautiful means having straight hair and a light complexion. The words “Tu Afro No Cabe En La Foto” (“Your Afro Doesn’t Fit in the Photo”) represent these western beauty standards. These words also represent how unbeautiful women with afros are often made to feel. The “doesn’t fit” part really struck out to me because oftentimes women who can’t fit into western beauty standards are made to feel as if they don’t fit into society, as if they’re not wanted. The white strokes at the border that seem to be filling in the blackness of the subject’s hair is really representative of this. It shows how criticism of women with afro hair often eat away at the confidence of a woman. Women have and continue to straighten their hair and lighten their complexion because they have consistently been told that if they don’t they will never find someone that will love them. African American and Afro-Latina women were especially told this so that they would be ashamed of their ethnicity and culture, giving more power to white people. After hearing it so many times, women begin to believe this. However, the subject’s big and voluminous hair becomes an act of resistance and defiance against society’s oppressive views of beauty. Her hair shows that her hair isn’t the problem, the frame is. Her hair is unruly and free, showing that she is in control. The freedom of her hair shows the freedom of her spirit because she has refused to go by western beauty standards. She has found her own version of beautiful and shows it proudly. Guerrero is making the statement that beauty does not exclusively mean straight hair and that people’s oppressive view of beauty needs to change. The subject’s unapologetic facial expression show two things: how unapologetic Guerrero is for making her statement and how unapologetic all women with afros should be for being themselves. This art piece is effective at fighting racism and oppressive beauty standards because it represents all women with afro hair. Representation is so important when fighting social issues because it gives people who have been oppressed confidence and a voice in the fight. Alex Guerrero does just that in an image and seven words.  

At first glance of this work by Belkis Ayon, I was actually fairly confused, and maybe a little scared. All the pictures at first glance seemed very spooky, like something out of a child’s nightmares. Also at first glance, I noticed that there was some sort of a fish in every single piece of art, including this one. Looking at it from first glance, this portrait seemed to reflect those that were well off in life, at least stereotypically. The stereotypical rich family standing beside a campfire with a big chair and a footrest was what this artwork looked like originally, but after studying it, it showed something completely different.

 

After going back and analyzing this piece of artwork, I noticed things that I didn’t notice before. For example, there are many different religious connotations that can be taken from this artwork. The person in the chair is wearing a cross, along with the serpent along the shoulders of the person standing on the chair, possibly representing the devil in the Bible story of Adam and Eve. Looking closer, I can possibly argue a more political and racial side to this artwork. Going back to the original idea of this artwork representing a rich individual, a political way that this could go would be that it is normally Caucasian people that are found to be the ones well off in life, while everyone else struggles to make ends meet. The artist could have been going for a reversal of that typical scenario, and bringing attention to the fact that others should also be able to be well off as well. The individual shaded in dark could represent someone of color, while the individual shaded in white could represent a person of Caucasian descent. The person sitting in the chair has the posture of someone that is in charge and in control, so it could represent the person that is well off, while the person standing could almost be taken as a person who is inferior.

Another way that this piece of artwork could be taken is deeper into the religious aspect, but not in the way that I originally thought. Instead of a political and racial standpoint, the artist could be making a religious standpoint about Christianity. The person in the chair is completely shaded in black and for most people, black is usually a bad sign. The other person is shaded in white, which is usually taken as a sign of purity, but the only problem with this is the serpent lying around their shoulders. In accordance with the Bible, a serpent is a sign of the devil, so the deeper meaning to this artwork could be that not everyone appears as they seem. While someone may seem like a good person and do good things, they may have the worst intentions towards others, while the other individual who is maybe seen as a bad person or an outcast has just as good a heart and intentions as a saint. Whatever the political, racial or religious point that the artist is trying to make, it is done very subtly, and requires the observer to go past just the obvious of what is going on. This seems to speak volumes about a lot of issues without even saying a word, and this is a prime example of what art can express that physical action cannot.

This set of five pieces by Francisco Donoso instantly attracted me. They looked like something out of a Pink Floyd album. I couldn’t but feel transported to some mystical and ethereal landscape. The colors were vibrant and I just couldn’t look away. I know originally I was supposed to spend about 8 seconds looking at the pieces but I know I spent far more. I did not try to analyze them instead I just admired the work. Layers upon layers made to create the illusion of a three dimensional image; so real that I felt that I could stick my hand in. The vibrant colors only added to the dreamscape that I saw. I just could not help but stand there in awe staring at the pieces.

I then decided to take a closer look at the artworks. I saw connections throughout all of them. For some pieces it was a giant web all meeting at one intersection and others there was a center focus and everything was leading to it. Focusing specifically on Landscape, also known as Aterrizaje, the layers give the illusion of depth. Each layer closing in slowly into a blank center. The center is pure white. In relation to the theme of the exhibit I see the layers as the diverse makeup of America with the blank in the center representing the “heart of America”: White America. I’m still not sure what to make of the three blobs I can only assume that they represent individuals looking at the makeup of America.

Another piece in the collection that I was enamored by was Celestial Hood. Again I see the large interconnected web present. However, in this piece something is missing though; there are large sections where no trails are present. The web is not complete. Perhaps this is the disconnect between society and the marginalized minority. The dark colors present in this piece play to a feeling of sorrow. But, the different shades of blue and the crimson red meld together perfectly there is no conflict with the colors and that is unity among the minorities. It seems that the only portions of the piece that are separated are the those chunks without any trails.

My favorite piece was Origin. In that piece I saw the symbolic stripes of the flag of the United States. Again the interconnected web is present. This time complete but, in the center again is a white blob. The surrounding segments of the web are different colors and some mixing together. The red stripes make it fairly obvious that the piece is critiquing American society. While everything is connected there are clear differences among the segments those segments then branch off into separate segments. American society is connected however not unified.

A common theme in Francisco Donoso’s is the lack of unity in America. America is a giant web but there are differences amongst the population and so much so that separations occur. I see racial and social separations in these works and after looking at them for such a long time the mystical feeling is gone and instead sorrow and anger appear. I still enjoy the work but after the long analysis I began to view the works in a different light.

                At first glance, this looks like Leonardo Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man to me. Obviously it is a very distant association, but the position of the white arms against the stark background immediately draw the eyes to them. Upon closer inspection, there is more going on that just the positioning of the arms. This almost ethereal being, has branches sticking out of them, floating above a field, footless. Taking another step back, it looks like this being has a worshipper. This worshipper’s anatomy is far less developed, but there is a depth to their character, nonetheless. Belkis Ayón dressed them in a top crossed on the back, a supportive fashion. Their arms are outstretched, welcoming.

I’ve since done some research on Ayón and her background. She was a member of the Abakuá society of Cuba, a secret community formed after it traveled from Nigeria. The only female figure in the belief system of the Abakuá is Sikán, who was sacrificed as a result of her knowledge. In her interviews Ayón has suggested that in her works, she often plays both roles: the God and the Believer.

In her piece “To Make You Love Me Forever” Ayón’s two figures are polar opposites from each other. While the floating figure has a white body and a black head, the worshipper has a grey body with a white head. While the hands of the floater are pitch black, those of the believer remain alike to the complexion of the body. I find it peculiar that she chose to blacken the hands and head of the possible Sikán. White is often associated with enlightenment, and enlightenment finds itself in one’s brain. I’d consider a God more enlightened than her believer. Having said all this, I also appreciate the constant contrast in the figure; the black head allows for sharp enough contrast to truly make the eyes piercing.

Belkis Ayón produced this piece in a society swayed patriarchal, being a member of a secret community where the only female presence was killed after sharing her prophetic experience. This piece may not communicate much about racism in a North American context, simply because the Americanized version of racism is so vastly different from how racism has manifested on islands and in South America. Yet is still speaks volumes about sex. Ayón practices the non-didactic approach which Coco Fusco urges can be more fruitful than standard, academic discussion.

Art allows the viewer to move in time, space, and interpretation. It also allows the viewer to place the artist within the medium they have produced. Sure Ayón produced her works on card board layered with paper, but she also created a medium much deeper than the two dimensional figures portrayed. Her imagery of fish, Gods, and wheat encapsulate life. All the motifs integral to life on an island, they are what survival in its most basic form is: nourishment and hope. Her work is almost forceful, I can place her above and below, I can place myself in well, and with either of our bodies in this piece, I am prepared to accept the notion of Ayón above, a feminized God, unheard of in the Abrahamic religions that dominate post-colonial American lands. And like the standard canon of God, Ayón has the agency to do right by those looking to her.

Belkis Ayón corners her audience with her art, her unobscured rambling of didactic approaches, but without her history and her context, it can slip between the cracks.

Rubén Natal-San Miguel’s collection of photos from Puerto Rico

8 Seconds

-It was so beautiful and colorful, and told a story that stood out to me. It caught my eye immediately, because of the clean looking subject matter, the vivid colors, and I wanted to know more about the photo.  I found myself fascinated by the photos purely by its aesthetic value, but compelled by the underlying meaning of the photos. It didn’t seem as interesting as the other artwork that was done in unique forms and mediums, with stronger messages, but it caught my attention.  The photos seemed to be journalistic, and artistic at the same time.

10 Minutes

-After learning that the photos were of Puerto Rico, my thoughts immediately went to the gorgeous vacation photos people posted on social media. I never visited there personally, so my knowledge of Puerto Rico was limited to whatever I saw on social media, on maps, etc. The pictures weren’t of the sandy beaches or luxurious resorts, it was of abandoned buildings, protests, and run down businesses owned and operated by locals; the things that aren’t brazenly presented to eager vacationers

The abandoned buildings and letters written reflect the tumultuous political and economic climate in Puerto Rico that isn’t necessarily advertised, and consequently, seen by the majority of the population. The beauty of the photos themselves contradict the subject matter, depicting something associated more with negativity, like the “outrage” of the citizens.

This unrest is known mainly to the people of Puerto Rico, who, according to Miguel, have all fled to the greater United States, and the empty buildings wouldn’t otherwise be seen, and neither would the protests.  The only way this “unkown” side of Puerto Rico is seen are through these beautiful, seemingly subtle photos (compared to the other photos in the exhibit). At first glance, the collection of photos is colorful and eye-catching, but has a deeper meaning underneath its surface, much like the “unconscious” effort Fusco was referring to.

I absolutely love the use of thread on what appears to be paper.  It gives the pieces a slightly messy, almost chaotic effect.  They look like sketches, not finished pieces, which I’ve always kind of liked.  The subject matter appears to be mothers or other female caretakers with children of varying ages.  There’s a lot of extraneous lines, which isn’t a critique, just an observation.  The detail the artist was able to achieve is incredible, from the patterns on the clothing to the almost demon-like faces.  The fact that the artist decided to use only one color of thread (black) is an interesting one.  This combined with the loose structure makes it look as if it is decaying.  Overall, I like the little collection of pieces; they are unique and eye-catching.

 

The plaque on the wall next to the pieces says that those depicted are representative of the underpaid female caretakers, often of Caribbean and Latin American descent or immigrants themselves, who can be seen walking around Manhattan.  The art itself does not signify race due to the lack of color, but I could see what they were going for.  The plaque also mentions, kind of like an afterthought, that the work is supposed to explore the roles of womanhood and motherhood.  That actually comes through more than the race aspect for me.  Personally, I have never met a male nanny or au pair.  Not to say that they do not exist, but the overwhelming majority are women.  This harkens back to the idea that women are the ones that take care of the children, that they have the “mothering instinct.”

I am sure the biggest issue that the artist was trying to highlight, however, is the fact that these women are underpaid.  I’d be surprised if that wasn’t due to their immigrant status.  In Coco Fusco’s essay, she talks about the idea of “otherness,” in that when something is unfamiliar, we tend to reject it or be fascinated by it in a fetishistic way.  Whether conscious or unconscious, people may be underpaying these women due to their foreignness.  They do not see them as part of their community, and therefore not as deserving of fair compensation.

I do not believe that these particular pieces would affect any unconscious beliefs due to the fact that the message was subtle and required context in order to be perceived as a political statement. These could just as easily be simple snapshots of women with their own children walking down the sidewalk.  As far as what “unconscious structure of belief” the artist is trying to change, I believe it is what all decent people want: for things to be fair and for people to be as equal as possible.  Here, they focus on the small subgroup of immigrant nannies, but that is just one thread in the tapestry of inequality.

We… the gente by Sandra Fernández

Initial 8 seconds

I initially went the wrong way and went into the adjacent exhibit, and after bumbling around for a couple of minutes not really knowing what was going on, I entered through what could be considered the exit of the exhibit. Because of this, this was actually one of the first pieces of art that caught my eye. This piece was actually a part of a bigger collective, the Uptown Prints portfolio, and this one specifically caught my eye because of its color, the people who both makeup the background but are also the subject of the piece, and what is clearly the United States Constitution in the background.

Further Analysis

As I observed the piece for a longer period of time, I began to form and idea of what I thought the Fernández was trying to teach her audience through her piece. The first detail that stood out to me from the piece was the scene in the background. It is quite evident that it is a desert–I thought that it was a subtle reference through the terrain that is attempted by thousands of immigrants every year, in search of a better life here in the United states. I think that the way the people are depicted in the piece is very powerful as well, in that they can sort of be seen, but at the same time they are not entirely there. I thought that this could be considered a reference to the people who try to cross the border, but are unfortunately lost to the perils of the desert, whether it be heat, dehydration, hunger, or fatigue. I took the way that (specifically) the preamble of the U.S. Constitution could be seen behind the people as a reference to the title of the piece: We… the gente (We… the people). In the title of the piece, Fernández illustrates the main point of her piece: that all of us, not just the ones born in the United States, or the ones lucky enough to become citizens, but also the ones who have emigrated to the country illegally, are people, and are therefore protected. The final detail that really stood out to me in this piece was the SB 1070 with the slash over it. SB 1070 refers to a piece of Arizona legislation that was passed in 2010 that allowed “police to determine the immigration status of someone arrested or detained if there is ‘reasonable suspicion’ they are in the U.S. legally” (ACLU). I perceived it as a powerful detail because it shows her stance on anti-immigrant and discriminatory sentiment, and it appearing alongside the depictions of immigrants and the U.S. Constitution is what I feel Fusco can consider an “unconscious structure of belief”: that immigrants really aren’t covered/protected by the Constitution, which is not what Fernández is teaching us through her work of art.

https://www.aclu.org/issues/immigrants-rights/state-and-local-immigration-laws/arizonas-sb-1070

First Impression

When I saw this for the first time, I was amazed and confused. It was almost as if Ward collected a bunch of old shoes from the flea market and just glued them onto the tire. Another thing that she did was that she hung the tire with a rope. I did not know why, probably to add more spice to her work. I know for a fact that Ward was not trying to portray a swing, like the ones in a playground. I thought she was trying to symbolize that people that were racially discriminated were treated like trash.

Analysis

After analyzing this artwork, I finally realized what Ward was trying to portray. The tire, which was actually used as a swing, represented the concept of free floating, specifically illustrating the times when children were able to run out and play during school recess, after school, and during the summer. The tire is not held by an ordinary rope, however; it is held by a noose, which represents the practice of lynching, or killing people by hanging them. Once I found out what the rope symbolized, I was thinking, “Oh shoot, this definitely means something.” Finally, I carefully analyzed the shoe tips and tongues, which are regularly used for protection. Instead, they represented the men, women, and children that were killed because of racism.

Overall, this artwork demonstrates the unconscious belief that a lot of people have lost their lives due to discrimination and violence, and we are not paying attention to this. I believe that Ward, by doing this artwork, tried to convey her message like this because art does not have to contain any words or messages. There are a lot of things that came out of this piece, and I felt those things when I analyzed it. Ward wanted her audience to understand that this is how we are supposed to perceive the world. We all think that the world is going to be alright, but it is actually not. There are people around the world still being discriminated for who they are and what background that they come from.

While I was analyzing this, I was thinking about the Tainos, who were the first people to settle on the Island of Hispaniola, which is what we know today as Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Once Columbus and the Spaniards completed their voyage to the New World, they killed off the Tainos so that they can claim the land for themselves; on top of that, they enslaved and forced them to find any gold or treasure. The Civil Rights Movement also came to mind. Specifically, I was thinking about Emmitt Till, the young African-American male who was killed because of his color. This shows that racism and xenophobia have existed for a very long time. Everybody, no matter his or her ethnic background, is human, and everybody should be treated the same. It is unjust to kill someone off like that just because you have envy for what he or she is.