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15

MONDAY, APRIL 20, 2020

Philip Kennicott

THE WASHINGTON POST - The

idea of in luence is so broad, so

ubiquitous and so often misused

that it may be the most misleading

concept with which we try to make

sense of art and art history.

Artists may be in luenced by

things they love, and by things

they hate; they may be deeply in-

luenced by precursors with whom

they share no identi iable af inities

of content or style; and they may

produce work that seems super-

icially identical to that of another

artist even when there was no con-

tact, no intent to imitate, and no

similarity of purpose or message.

The Phillips Collection has cho-

sen two different words - riffs and

relations - for the title of a new ex-

hibition that traces the in luence of

modernism on African American

artists in the 20

th

and 21

st

centuries.

"Riffs" suggests something that

is spontaneously inspirational, a

jumping-off point for elaboration or

development of a modernist idea

or image; “relations”, a wide-open

term full of ambiguity, gets at the

deeper problem of tracing in lu-

ence, both negative and positive.

The emotions inspired by the

absorbing exhibition,

Riffs and Re-

lations: African American Artists

and the European Modernist Tradi-

tion

, are both deeply negative and

positive. Curator Adrienne L Childs

tells a story dating back to the be-

ginning of the 20

th

Century, when

such artists as Picasso, Braque and

Matisse turned to African art for

new ideas about how to represent

the world, creating igures with

masklike faces, lattened forms and

backgrounds of vibrant patterning.

They weren't just borrowing vi-

sual ideas, however.

Many of them believed in a con-

nection between what they saw as

primitive culture and the deeper

wellsprings of psychological life,

a way to reference and represent

urges and emotional drives that

had been suppressed by “civilisa-

tion”. But they also were appropri-

ating wholesale the visual material

of people who were suffering colo-

nial oppression, taking sacred ob-

jects out of context and imputing

to them European-derived ideas

about their purpose and meaning.

It was theft and homage, with all

the damage of the theft incurring

to those who were often powerless,

and the homage paid not to any art-

ist or culture in particular, but gen-

erally to an idea of Africa that was

invented to serve European needs.

The story becomes complicated

right from the start, in part because

the initial appropriation of African

ideas was so successful, visually,

within the context of European art.

It led to an explosion of ideas

and forms, in luential across almost

the whole spectrum of Western

creativity. And it happened at a mo-

ment when African American artists

were beginning to assert their pres-

ence within that milieu, and looking

for ways to consolidate a sense of

identity in an art world that largely

rejected them.

So the initial appropriation

led to re-appropriation, as African

American artists repurposed what

the European artists had initially

borrowed. In 1925, Alain Locke, the

"dean" of the Harlem Renaissance,

published a volume of essays called

The New Negro

, which encouraged

African American artists to look to

newly invigorated European mod-

ernist artists, the same ones who

were making hay with "primitivism,"

for inspiration.

Herein were possible sources

for a new African American idiom,

connected both to contemporary

art currents and authentic African

culture. It was an exhortation that

paralleled what European countries

had done over the past century

- raiding their own folk culture to

invent new national identities - but

the idea that African visual ideas

processed by European artists was

a route to authentic African culture

was questionable.

Still, it was a way forward, and

artists, especially those struggling

against larger cultural forces, are

mainly looking for just that, a way

forward. One sees that frequently

throughout this exhibition.

Artists ind what they need, and

what they need can come from un-

likely places. In 1921, several years

before Locke's in luential treatise,

Hale Woodruff, one of the great-

est 20

th

-century African American

artists, laid his hands on a book

about African sculpture published

in Germany. That book,

Afrikanis-

che Plastik

, included black and

white plates of African ceremonial

igures, sculpted heads and stools,

and a long essay in German that

Woodruff couldn't read.

But it was the visual stimulus he

needed, and it helped him move

forward on a brilliant path. Among

the most exciting works on view

in the Phillips exhibition is Wood-

ruff's circa 1958

Africa and the Bull,

which reimagines a well-used Euro-

pean trope - the Rape of Europa - in

African terms, with a black igure

riding a white bull. The complex-

ity of Woodruff's representation of

the bull, in a de Kooning palette of

grays, is a magni icent foil to the

black and white loral igures that

envelope the image of Africa.

The exhibition traces the com-

plex back-and-forth between art-

ists up to the current moment,

in which artists are engaged in

much more direct critique of the

modernist inheritance.

Titus Kaphar uses thick ields of

black tar to encroach on the moral-

ly obtuse prettiness of Impression-

ism, forcing viewers to confront the

cost of European wealth and luxury

- in large measure derived from

global exploitation.

What is missing from these

colourful Impressionist paintings

that are so beloved by museum au-

diences? Not just African igures,

but also the history of Africa, trans-

piring with substantial misery so far

away at the same time that Monet

was painting women with parasols

in green ields speckled with low-

ers. The history of African Ameri-

can engagement with modernism

also includes internal arguments

and complications.

By the 1960s and '70s, an older

generation of artists who found

much to admire in abstraction - in-

cluding the freedom to say just as

much or as little as they wanted

about the so-called real world -

were being confronted by more po-

litically active younger artists.

Artists who favoured muted

colours, or grid-like forms, or all-

over ields of pattern and colour,

didn't seem suf iciently engaged

with what was happening on the

streets. Groups like the Black Arts

Movement were looking for new

forms and new ideas that weren't

constrained by the aesthetic dic-

tates of the still white-dominated

ine arts world.

The argument wasn't new, and it

continues today in different forms,

across all kinds of creative media.

One of the most arresting im-

ages in the exhibition, an untitled

circa 1958 abstraction by Beauford

Delaney, is a burst of yellow, orange

and red, with subtle blue tones in

the interstices of a vibrant ield of

brush work.

It was made after Delaney, a

black man, moved to Paris, where

he changed from making igurative

work to mostly abstract composi-

tions. It is placed close to one of

the Phillips' prized van Goghs, the

1889

The Road Menders

, with which

it shares a similar colour scheme.

In 1945, before Delaney went

to France, while he was still living

a dual life as an artist in Green-

wich Village and a black artist in

Harlem, he was the subject of a

rapturous pro ile by Henry Miller,

in Miller's trademark freely asso-

ciative, subjective and sometimes

self-indulgent style.

Miller admired Delaney, and to

express that admiration he noted

how much more dif icult it was for

a black artist, a product of the Jim

Crow South, to take the chances,

with colour and form, that Delaney

was taking. By avoiding cliches, by

aspiring to greatness, by challeng-

ing white audiences, he would in-

evitably be neglected, ostracised

or forgotten.

Delaney was mostly forgotten

for a long time. He died poor and

con ined to a mental hospital in

Paris in 1979. Fifteen years later, an

African American artists embraced modernism,

but the art world didn’t embrace them

article in

Art in America

was titled

Whatever Happened to Beauford

Delaney?

Miller's article is full of admira-

tion, both for Delaney, and self-ad-

miration, for his own ability to ap-

preciate Delaney's genius.

Delaney, he argued, transcend-

ed the world in which he struggled:

"There was no black and white, no

master or slave; there was just the

endless stretch of vision in which

the imagination of all men dwells."

Miller got that wrong in so many

ways. Standing in the Phillips Col-

lection, looking at Delaney's paint-

ing, I wonder not just how one

makes amends for the world Dela-

ney lived in, but also for the myriad

ways in which even seemingly inno-

cent forms of admiration are chan-

neled through social structures that

warp and corrupt it into yet more

forms of oppression.

Absorbing exhibition at the Phillips Collection,

Riffs and Relations: African

American Artists and the European Modernist Traditions

, inspires deeply

positive and negative emotions.

‘Pushing Back the Light’ (2012) by Titus Kaphar.

PHOTOS: THE WASHINGTON POST

‘Icarus’ (2016) by Hank Willis Thomas