‘The stare, bold as brass
Says: NO
What you see is not there
What is, is I
I – Zanele Muholi’
Somnyama Ngonyama: Hail the Dark Lioness
Zanele Muholi are back at Tate Modern - until 26th January 2025. Book your ticket now!
I came across their work at their first ever London show, in 2021, which sadly took place during the pandemic and was only open for a super short time. It felt like an immense privilege to see it and it stayed with me ever since – as likely one of the best exhibitions I’ve ever seen. I went with a friend and we were both overwhelmed by Zanele Muholi’s extraordinary body of work and powerful, visceral storytelling.
This exhibition is curated almost identically with some new pieces, including some sculptures, on existing themes - because much Zanele Muholi’s oeuvre is ongoing, like the issues they raise. As I walked through, I felt the same raw emotions come over me.
Their work as a visual activist, which is how they prefer being known rather than an artist – tackles overlapping issues of gender, sexuality, race, and class. It depicts the lives, loves, hopes and realities of Black LGBTQIA+ communities in South Africa, and is inevitably intertwined with the country’s harrowing history and anti LGBTIQA+ sentiment globally.
"My mission is to re-write a Black, queer and trans visual history of South Africa
for the world to know of our existence, resistance, and persistence
at the height of hate crimes in South Africa and beyond.”
Zanele Muholi
Zanele Muholi’s photography is beyond superb, especially in what it evokes and how it captures the essence of participants. And here is the distinction, they do not take pictures of ‘subjects’ – in the traditional sense - but work with a community that they are very much part of. That becomes even clearer in the Somnyama Ngonyama series, when they turn the camera onto themselves. What makes the work stand out even more, is the emotional connection to participants, the mutual trust, as well as the meticulous, compassionate documentation of their everyday existence, against the background of discrimination and violence. Their honesty is disarming – and so necessary.
Writing about it makes me want to see it a third time.
Revelations
Judy Chicago’s provocative and inspiring work is gracing the Serpentine. The exhibition, her first solo show in London, connects to a manuscript she wrote whilst creating The Dinner Party (1974 - 79) – the important iconic 1970’s feminist artwork, now permanently at the Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art, on the fourth floor of the Brooklyn Museum. The Dinner Party comprises a massive ceremonial banquet, arranged on a triangular table with 39 place settings, each celebrating an important woman in Western history and culture – including Sacajawea, Sojourner Truth, Sappho, Virginia Woolf, and Georgia O'Keeffe. It is also an ode to needlework or ceramics, art forms long considered the preserve of female domestic labour.
At the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) where she studied art in the early 1960’s, she was confronted with a world that was generally hostile to women artists. But that only strengthened her resolve to make it. Inspired in part by the nascent feminist movement, she challenged the patriarchy, head on, to become the doyenne of feminist art. Revelations takes you on a fascinating journey through decades of her work, imbued with the 1960’s feminist mantra ‘the personal is political’, and organised around five themes: birth and creation; the construct of masculinity; the notion of power; extinction; and her longstanding concern for environmental justice.
Peeling Back, 1974, from the series Rejection Quintet, merges form and content and is based on her experience of rejection as a female art student. She designed the gorgeous, fierce Rainbow Warrior, 1980 (above), for a Greenpeace poster to mark the launch of their anti-whaling and anti-nuclear campaign ship of the same name. In line with her Birth Project (1980 – 85), she draws inspiration from mythology, the goddess, and alternative societal structures.
If you went to Re/Sisters at the Barbican last year, you will have come across her work in the ‘Performing Ground’ section, which focused on women artists in the 1970’s and 80’s, whose practice located the body in communion with the land.
Much of her work may date back a few decades - but remains so relevant. Be quick to catch this rabble rousing show - it ends on 01 September 2024!
And, while you are in Hyde Park, pop by to see Pumpkin, 2024 the legendary Yayoi Kusama's installation that is guaranteed to bring you joy. It is on display until 3 November 2024.
Her-story of art
In the same vein as Beyond the Bass, which celebrates Black British Music’s immense contributions to our culture over the last 500 years; Now You See Us, focuses on four centuries of women artists in Britain, between 1520 and 1920. Hands up, those are not my favourite art periods, but I was nonetheless curious to see what is a formidable compilation of artworks by women – albeit predominantly racialised White, socially, and economically privileged women. And yes – even those women were long erased from mainstream art histories.
The exhibition focuses on the work of women who practised art as a livelihood, exhibited in public exhibitions, sold their art and most of all fought for equal recognition to paint what they wanted and to access art academies. Yet, it has taken almost five centuries for some of them to achieve greater public acknowledgement. Unless you are an art boff, you will likely wander through Tate Britain recognising only a handful of names, which makes Now You See Us particularly pertinent.
The exhibition is organised chronologically starting with women in Tudor Courts and the first professional artist, Italian Artemisia Gentileschi (1593 – c. 1658), who came to London at the invitation of Charles I. It continues with the first professionals – the list is short – and the first exhibitors, for whom the Royal Academy (RA)*, founded in 1768, became a popular venue. Angelica Kauffman (1741 – 1807) and Mary Moser (1744 – 1819) were both founding members of the RA - although, as women, they weren’t awarded full membership and were excluded from the RA’s council meetings and governance.
As you read the notes – the small print as it were – you find some interesting nuggets of information. They reveal some of the limitations that women faced. They were excluded from life drawing classes, and art that was deemed traditionally feminine, such as needle work and artificial flowers, were altogether banned from the RA. As for miniatures, watercolour and pastel, well, they were just about tolerated but highly frowned upon.
*Please note, before you head for the summer exhibition, hundreds of artists have signed to letter to denounce London’s Royal Academy for censoring art about Palestine.
Things began moving a tad faster in the Victorian era with new venues opening and world fairs opening space for women to be more visible. This was also an age when women became more vocal about equal rights to education, work, and suffrage. But, in reality, little changed until the twentieth century … and, even then, we know how much more there is still to do.
Now You See Us is extremely well curated and informative. Reading the notes next to each picture uncovers fascinating details, not only about the art itself, but also about the context. It is on until 13th October 2024.
*Swynnerton campaigned for women's suffrage, access to professional training, and equal opportunities. She rebelled against the belief that women could not paint. Exhibited at the New Gallery in 1892, Mater Triumphalis was regarded as a bold work. British critics were impressed by the artist's skill and the painting's quivering life but found the 'frank realism' of the woman's naked body disconcerting!
Grace
And of course there is Alvaro Barrington’s Grace – a beautiful, evocative ode to the graceful women in his life - his grandmother, mother, and friend/sister. The immersive installation, which spans the entire Duveen Galleries, tells us a lot about his life, identity, and community.
First, we sit under his grandmother Frederica’s tin roof, in the countryside of the Caribbean island where he grew up – a refuge, a place of safety - the sound of thunderstorms during hurricane season can be heard in the distance.
From there we get propelled centre stage, where we dance with the gigantic silver dancer - Samantha, his friend and sister-figure - revelling to the rhythm of the Notting Hill carnival sound systems and steel pans, surrounded by Alvaro Barrington’s paintings.
Last stop, New York, where he moved to with his mother, Emelda, as a child. The final space is cathedral like - dark and contemplative. It is dominated by a derelict concrete structure in the centre – a shop, built to the dimensions of a U.S. prison cell, surrounded by a fence – and the unnerving sound of a clanky shutters. The scene is a stark reminder of what life was like in the U.S. for Black people – the dangers, depravation, lack of opportunities, which led to many using readily available cocaine to self-medicate – and the ‘war on drugs’, which targeted folks of colour and led to mass incarceration.
Ends 26th Janyary 2025.
Comments