In 1992, artist Nick Cave was devastated by the police beating of Rodney King in Los Angeles. As a young Black man, Cave knew the dangerous injustices of racial profiling and then, like the rest of America, viewed King’s beating on national television.
As a response to this injustice and his own internal wrestling with racism in America, Cave created the art piece titled “Soundsuit.”
This art depicts the mandated and necessary clothing people of color must wear to survive in America. The top is clothed in discarded elements of nature as a metaphor for the way society dismisses and discards African Americans. On the bottom, Cave created a “secondary skin” to disguise race, gender and class comprised of a rainbow of embroidery
The artist later recounted: “I started thinking about the role of identity, being racially profiled, feeling devalued, less than, dismissed. And then I happened to be in the park this one particular day and looked down at the ground, and there was a twig. And I just thought, well, that’s discarded, and it’s sort of insignificant. And so I just started then gathering the twigs, and before I knew it, I had built a sculpture.”
Cave would continue to express himself with more than 500 pieces of art all titled “Soundsuit.”
“During times of discrimination, it is critical to look for the artists among us.”
During times of discrimination, it is critical to look for the artists among us. They are the ones shaping the unjust moment in vivid expression so the oppressive regime will not be erased or forgotten — and perhaps more importantly so those who suffered at the hands of the oppressors will not be erased or forgotten either.
This art also illuminates our way to imagine liberation for everyone.
Just think of artists and you will quickly note the oppressive society in which they lived and created: Gordon Parks, Tony Kushner, Gee’s Bend Quilts, Pablo Picasso, Frida Kahlo and Norman Rockwell, to name a few.
And isn’t that what religion’s sacred texts are about? Those writing in a time of danger, oppression and injustice helping the most vulnerable people reimagine liberation through divine love? Art in the expression of storytelling of all expressions names our reality and helps us reimagine liberation as a more just society together.
Artist Joyce J. Scott has said, “Art has the ability (to), if not cure or heal, at least enlighten, slap you in the head, wake you up.”
During the Thanksgiving break, I saw two movies that did just that. Both Conclave and Wicked slapped me in the head and heart and woke me up to the art within me in preparation for a more oppressive second Trump presidency.
Conclave looks at religious patriarchy through the lens of the penultimate religious power: the selection of the next pope by the conclave of Roman Catholic Cardinals. Its superb script and artistic storytelling allow the viewer to imagine a spiritual worldview against the backdrop of patriarchal power.
Wicked looks at “otherness” and one’s self-liberation breaking free of the false power-paradigm message that the Wizard can solve all problems and does so with society’s best interest at heart. I surprisingly found myself in tears during the song, “Popular,” because I was taken back to my otherness as a teenage girl not fitting in and then a few minutes later channeling my inner Elphaba to reclaim my voice and “defy gravity,” then and now. I know I am not alone because I saw other patrons outwardly expressing similar inward experiences. This is the sign of beautiful expressions of pure art.
I will confess that when I saw both of these movies, I was in a funk, grieving the results of the recent presidential election and wondering if I would be able to summon another shot of courage to fight the oppressive actions of Texas and our nation for the next four years (especially when these two regimes will collide).
“Watching the art of these two movies shifted something within me.”
Watching the art of these two movies shifted something within me. They didn’t wave a magic wand and make the injustices disappear. Instead, they whispered in my ear: “You are not alone! There is another way to treat those in our society fairly and respect the dignity of every person accordingly. You can do it, and your fight will be worth it in the end!”
That’s what art does: It names the present pain and breaks us open so we can creatively reimagine what wholeness and justice look like for our societies and ourselves. Art fuels the energy necessary to resist oppression while imagining liberation and healing.
I know I am not alone in my democracy warrior weariness. For those of you who fought like hell for freedom in your communities, states and nation, and you feel discouraged wondering if your fight was worth it, I say, “Yes! We join our ancestors who have fought for a just society! Rest your bodies, minds and spirits and look for the artists.”
And for those of you feeling the skepticism settle into your spirit as you contemplate another four years where breaking the rules and harming others becomes the normative over and over and over again, I say, “You are not alone! Look for the artists.”
Look for the poets, painters, musicians, playwrights and photographers. Immerse yourself in their art. Marvel at their stories, metaphors and meanings. Become uncomfortable when the art reaches deeper inside yourself than you would otherwise prefer. Be curious when new ideas and questions begin to emerge. And then, express your own art as you imagine how to fight for freedom in this moment. And if you have the financial means, make sure you support these artists with your money. This is a way to reclaim our fierce warrior energy for the difficult years to come.
Look for the artists and let their art move you, break you open with sadness and tears so that this art can invite you to reimagine how we will become a free and just society again.
Ginny Brown Daniel is an ordained minister who is a keynote speaker and writes on faith and politics in Texas. Visit her website at www.ginnybd.com.
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