In a moment when museum collections are trying to integrate more
women and artists of color, Julie Mehretu represents a powerful symbol of
progress, the rare example of a contemporary Black female painter who has
already entered the canon.
اضافة اعلان
At the same time, as the Black Lives Matter movement continues
to fuel a national reckoning, Mehretu is being showcased at one of the many art
institutions being held accountable for an entrenched history of white male
exclusionism.
It is with this unusual status — as both an agent of change and
a member of the establishment — that Mehretu is preparing to take over the
Whitney’s entire sprawling fifth floor with the most comprehensive survey of
her career, which opens to the public March 25.
“We’re seeing this call to reconstruction,” Mehretu said during
a Zoom interview from her Chelsea studio near the museum, noting “all of this
important work that didn’t get seen.” Only now, she noted, are the artists who
inspired her — like Sam Gilliam, Coco Fusco, David Hammons and Daniel Joseph
Martinez — finally getting their due from institutions, galleries and
collectors.
“There is a deep consideration of who you show and who comes to
the museum and how do you shift that,” she said. “There is a lot that has to be
challenged.”
Mehretu, 50, doesn’t come across as revolutionary. She instead
exudes a more deliberative approach — constantly probing, investigating,
wrestling. A typical Mehretu cross-referencing conversation veers from the
Tiananmen Square massacre to Le Corbusier to colonialism.
So while the events of the last year may have made Mehretu’s
subject matter more resonant, the artist said she has been steeped in those
issues — revolt, migration and rebellion — all along.
“That’s the reality of most people, if you’re a person of color,”
she said, adding that racism “has contributed to an enormous wealth gap in this
country, and if you study that, it’s very clear that there has to be a real
form of redress.”
That redress includes who gets to tell your story. As museums
all over the country are committing to greater diversity in whom they exhibit,
hire and promote, Mehretu’s Whitney retrospective also represents an important
step for two female curators of color.
Christine Y. Kim, curator of contemporary art at the Los Angeles
County Museum of Art, jointly organized the survey with Rujeko Hockley, an
assistant curator at the Whitney, and presented it last year (the show was
forced to close six months early because of the COVID-19 outbreak). The three
women feel a sense of sisterhood since they have a shared history through the
Studio Museum in Harlem; Mehretu was an artist in residence there, Hockley was
a curatorial assistant, and Kim had various curator positions.
“This powerful collaboration points not only to the significance
and importance of each of their flourishing practices,” said Thelma Golden,
director of the Studio Museum, “but also their groundbreaking trajectories.”
Monumental in its scale and scope, Mehretu’s Whitney show
explores recurring themes such as capitalism, globalism and displacement,
drawing on layers of visual images, a lexicon of hieroglyphics and ancient city
maps. In light of the protests and the pandemic, the exhibition — which traveled
to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta and will end its tour at the Walker Art
Center in Minneapolis next October — feels especially relevant.
The multilayered, multidimensional nature of Mehretu’s work has
always made it difficult to encapsulate. Her paintings have so much going on in
them: figuration as well as abstraction, swirling lines as well as filaments of
color, subtle references to history as well as a clear engagement with current
events.
The pandemic has informed the survey’s entire enterprise.
Mehretu’s show could help reanimate a Whitney that now operates at limited
capacity. During its run, through August 8, the world may more fully reopen.
The lockdown changed Mehretu’s overextended lifestyle, giving
her a rare opportunity to slow down, to have dinner every night with her two
boys — whom she co-parents with her former wife, artist Jessica Rankin — and to
think more deeply about her goals for Denniston Hill, the artist residency she
co-founded in the Catskills in 2004 with artist Paul Pfeiffer and historian
Lawrence Chua. Mehretu remained there during the pandemic.
The virus interrupted Mehretu’s work itself, including a large
diptych that will be on view in the Whitney’s gallery overlooking the Hudson, a
4m-by-5m canvas titled “Ghosthymn (after the Raft),” 2019-2021. Only last fall,
when she returned to her New York studio, was Mehretu able to resume work on
the painting, which references the 2018 Chemnitz far-right protests in Germany,
Brexit anti-immigration rallies and the 19th-century painting “The Raft of the
Medusa,” by French Romantic painter Théodore Géricault.
She also cited “levels of precarity exposed by the pandemic and
the embodied anxiety during those early months” that inform the work, including
swings in the news cycle, “uprisings of the summer and the basic exposure of
the tropes of American exceptionalism.”
The Whitney show, which features about 30 canvases as well as 40
works on paper, will include two new ink and acrylic “Mind-Wind Field Drawings,”
comprising strong, kinetic lines and barely perceptible blurred color.
Viewers will find her earliest research and drawings from
graduate school and the first paintings in which she invented her signature
mark-making, which the artist defines as “an insistence, persistence of being.”
Born in Addis Ababa in 1970 to an Ethiopian father (a professor
of economic geography) and an American mother (a Montessori educator), Mehretu
moved at age 7 with her family to East Lansing, Michigan, to escape political
unrest in Ethiopia.
She visited the Detroit Institute of Arts, where American artist
Morris Louis’ colorful abstract stripes left a strong impression. “I tried to
make paintings like that,” Mehretu said.
In the Whitney show, visitors will be able to see how Mehretu’s
paintings evolved over time, growing larger, incorporating architectural plans
and gaining a social and political dimension. The exhibition highlights the
artist’s investigation of structural forms, like the stadium; iconography, like
national flags; and landmarks of recent history, like the war on terror or
Hurricane Katrina.
Despite the potential complications of this moment — having a
seat at the table just as the table is under scrutiny — the Whitney show feels
to Mehretu like something of a homecoming. As a graduate student at the Rhode
Island School of Design in the late 1990s, Mehretu said, she was heavily
influenced by the museum’s seminal exhibitions of Black artists like Frank
Bowling and Jack Whitten as well as by its “Black Male” show, curated by
Golden.
(Her professional relationship with the Whitney started with her
inclusion in the 2004 Biennial and continued with the 2017 group show, “An
Incomplete History of Protest: Selections from the Whitney’s Collection,
1940—2017.”)
“It is a space where a certain sense of possibility opened up,
and it has been such an important marker for me in the city,” Mehretu said.
Mehretu said she is also keenly mindful of the Whitney’s history
as the target of criticism, often because of a particular work in its Biennial
or, more recently, because of the professional associations of a trustee.
Ironically, perhaps, the artist has arguably become part of the
very system some activists are currently seeking to dismantle. She has been
awarded a MacArthur Foundation “Genius Grant” (2005) and a US State Department
Medal of Arts (2015).
Among her major commissions are a 2009 “Mural,” commissioned by
Goldman Sachs for its Battery Park headquarters, and a monumental exploration
of the American West for the atrium of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art
in 2017.
And her work has joined the ranks of art-market trophies,
reaching a high at auction of $5.6 million for her “Black Ground (Deep Light)”
at Sotheby’s Hong Kong in 2019.
Asked how she navigates challenging the system and being part of
it, Mehretu said that question should be asked of every artist in the United
States. “Racism is an American problem; it is not Black people’s problem to
solve,” she said. “Everyone in this country should reflect on and respond to
our history of white supremacist violence. That awareness informs what I do. My
work is an insistence on being here. I am here, we are here, and we are in the
building.”