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→ Next: a bright future!

We’ve got big dreams for our future.

This year, Colored Criticism is celebrating our 5+1 Birthday! That means that we’ve worked through five years and one pandemic to center people of color in the arts.

Last year was not celebratory for obvious reasons (COVID-19, we’re looking at you!) So this year, we’re looking back and dreaming forward.

From now until Thanksgiving, we’ll be revisiting and sharing some of our favorite highlights of the past 5+1 years, and asking for your support as we grow!

To kick off our celebration, here’s a timeline of our progression over our first six years.

Yours in 5+1 birthday fun,
Tiffany.

Summer is finally in the streets. With the solstice behind us and restrictions lifting, I’m so glad that we can gather again. It seemed like we might not make it to another season of celebration, but we’re here for Juneteenth and Pride. From city streets to county fairs, our communities are coming alive, with parties open to all.

One of the brightest, biggest celebrations in New York has to be Pride, along with the Puerto Rican Day Parade and West Indian Day Parade. In our city, we’re still combining digital and in-person parties as we recalibrate post-pandemic. Whatever your speed, there’s a way to honor our LGBTQ+ friends and family whether you’re on a float, hosting a cozy kickback, or digging into some critical theory (and yes, podcasts count!)

Here are my picks for Pride online. Full disclosure, all of these artists and curators are Colored Criticism friends:

• Close reads: Lambda-award winning poet and performance artist Rosamond King does not mince words. Her latest collection “All the Rage” channels the righteous anger and unflinching hopes of living in America right now. Her incandescent, pointed and playful voice is always in style. Enjoy the book launch at Rutgers here.
• The kids are more than all right: APA Out Loud brings us young spoken word artists Jireh Deng, Lauren Bullock, and Caitlyn Clark in virtual performance. I’m looking forward to more from their strong spirits and thoughtful reflections. Watch their work here, directed by Alberto Morales of Human Rights Campaign.
• Teach it like you preach it: Professor and scholar Bimbola Akinbola redefines diaspora through her Queering Belonging mini-series. Her advocacy reminds us that “belonging is continuous work” and not a rigid legacy. Explore the dimensions of Nigerian diaspora artists via Northwestern University online.
• It’s lit: Kevin Seaman illuminates the Salesforce Tower in San Francisco this weekend. Their public art commission draws from the iconography of the Transgender, Lesbian Labrys, and Leather flags this month. If you can’t visit in person (like me), check out this supercut set to Planningtorock’s Transome.

Image Credit: Meg Emiko brings their candy-colored affirmations to the APA Out Loud campaign. Meg shares “I had spent so many years trying to push the two most important parts of my identity aside, that I knew I wanted to create a platform and safe space for other AAPI and LGBTQIA+ folks so they could feel represented in some way.”

We stand in active support of Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) communities as we finish May. Our network is full of artists, activists, and advocates working in the anti-racist tradition. Artist Betty Yu and her Chinatown Arts Brigade collaborators were recently featured in the New York Times arts section. (Although the title is misleading – this work is not new for them!) You can learn more about CAB in this PBS segment, or revisit our ArtOffPause conversation last year. And there are so many AAPI stories still to be told and celebrated – I always enjoy the latest offerings from Asian American Writers Workshop. Their Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities project feels super comforting right now, and they have more upcoming events on deck.

This month is designated to celebrate AAPI culture, but is overshadowed by an increase in hate crimes. These communities deserve safety and respect, as all of our nation does. In particular, we recognize the still-fresh trauma of those who have lost their elders to violence in Atlanta, Indianapolis, and the San Francisco Bay Area. Extra credit: work on equity with donation-based training tools for your community or organization via educator Jaime Jin Lewis.

Yours in spring celebration, 

Tiffany.

Image Credit: Sue Jeong Ka used “ID Shop, 2014-2018” as an intervention for immigrant youth without identification. Via the artist: “ID Shop operated as an artist liaison between queer homeless immigrant youths and art institutions to help them apply for IDs issued by the state government.” Being without papers is precarious in a world where documentation means access to services, education, and financial resources. Sue worked both conceptually and practically with this mobile citizenship pathway. Artists are often intervening between their people and the state.

Coming Soon!

Our #ArtOffPause artists, activists, and curators have been busy! Here are some things to look forward to:

• Kevin Seaman is offering queer arts community and workshops through Diamond Wave. More on their Summer series here!
• Tammy Johnson launched Creatives in Place, a listening project on 22 artists rooted in the Bay Area. There’s plenty of great art, work. and insights online.
• Smith Museum College of Art (SCMA) unveils “Amanda Williams: An Imposing Number of Times” across campus through 2022.

Nobody wanted this. I was hoping for a bright start to this year. I was all ready to write an essay of optimism and cheer. On this Inauguration Eve, there should be promise coming – a new slate of vaccines, a change in leadership, an economic restart for the country. Instead, we’re watching a quickly unfolding story of security failures, political violence, and social polarization. 2021 could have been a fresh start, but it’s already a cautionary tale of how we’ve failed as a civil society.

Our country isn’t inviolable. It never has been. The failed Capitol coup isn’t a break in our reality, it’s a continuation of our history. But a revisionist approach to art history makes the sight of white violence unbelievable even in real time. Somehow the imagery of a white mob, attempting to destroy a government through brute force, still seems unimaginable to many Americans. That amazes me. White bodies dominate our national culture, whether in art, journalism, politics, finance, or other spheres. Our arts institutions cling to the cultural patrimony of European art, even while people of color have called to #DecolonizetheCanon for decades.

So if that’s our legacy, let’s get real about it. Our reflections of whiteness in art seem limited to heroic sculpture or gauzy pastoral landscapes. When our arts institutions curate or call in loans from European collections, it’s rarely about the failure of white nationalism or racism. The violent extremists that besieged our entire legislature took inspiration from the fascist movements of the last century – their appalling insignia, merch, and slogans make that clear. When arts institutions fail to wrestle with that legacy, it creates a predictable failure of imagination. The real trauma of the past is disappeared from our visual memory. We can’t reproduce or imagine how white nationalism creates a society shredding itself, patriotism lashing back against the people it pretends to protect. That’s our cultural heritage as well. For people of color, our survival depends on recognizing and deflecting white violence. But we aren’t the only Americans affected.

By forgetting the white artists who showed the cost of political violence, we do ourselves a disservice. German artist Käthe Kollwitz lost a son during the First World War, was harassed by the Nazi regime throughout the Third Reich, and died shortly before the end of the Second World War. Through it all, she testified to the pain of her times. She created work that showed European nationalism setting the world aflame, destroying families and drawing countries and continents into armed conflict. She shows white people suffering the effects of white nationalism. And we rarely see work like hers today. Poking around the internet, I found an article on Artnet about current opinions of her work. The TL:DR version is “she’s too emotional, too hard, and too intense.” True story – so is life.

The most surprising thing about the insurrection for me isn’t that is happened, it’s how quickly Americans are willing to turn away and move on. If there’s anything we can learn from Europe, through art history or otherwise, it’s that the fires of white nationalism don’t die out on their own. I’ll let Käthe close out the beginning of this month, and hope for better soon.

“They all devoted their lives to the idea of patriotism.

The young men in England, Russia and France did the same.

The result was […] an impoverished Europe robbed it of its most beautiful people. Was the youth in all these countries deceived?”

Käthe Kollwitz, Diaries, 11 October 1917

Image Credit: The Volunteers, sheet 2 of the series “War.” Woodcut, 1921/1922, courtesy of Käthe Kollwitz Museum Köln. The museum calls this a “Danses Macabres” lead by a figure Death. Dancing to one’s death – a fitting image for a post-riot and mid-pandemic time. Let’s do better.

Spelling error updated August 3, 2021.