Museum trips were some of my favorite trips as a child. It did not matter what type of museum (art, history, science, etc), I enjoyed them; the art museum was always my favorite. Crisp air and soft shoes against marble and polished wood floors, I was amazed by monumental size paintings, flawless sculptures and a spectrum of colors. However, the color that was absent the most was the brown on my skin.
Born in the 80's and growing up in the 90's, I often became frustrated at art museums and the lack of images that include me and my people (our stories). I was frustrated that we were not there, but we are here, present. I remember when my father was walking with me, I believe I was 10, and he said loud (enough to echo through the museum) WHERE ARE THE BLACK ARTISTS? At the time, I was embarrassed, but quietly screaming it in my spirit. My parents made sure that I would know who Black artists are not just visual art, but all the arts of expression.
It is know wonder that the pursuit of becoming an art historian was driven by the question WHERE ARE THE BLACK ARTISTS? I have discovered and uncovered so much about the impact that we have had as visual creators; even through the MAAFA of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. We have carried symbols, traditions, language and visions across the Atlantic and it still shows up; Black artists have been the through line to who we are and asking us to remember who we are.
Black Art History, specifically visual artists, represent their communities authentically, challenging stereotypes and giving voice to diverse experiences. It allows for the celebration of Black identity and culture, often underrepresented or misrepresented in mainstream art narrative. Art has provided platforms for our voices at times it has often been restricted. It is through the expression of our stories and images that disrupts and corrects the western canon of art (since the majority of its excellence has co-opted the artistry of the Black diaspora).
As an art historian and a griot of the Black Diaspora. it is my calling to capture, document, synthesize and tell our stories; the stories that were silenced, hidden and ignored.
Born in the 80's and growing up in the 90's, I often became frustrated at art museums and the lack of images that include me and my people (our stories). I was frustrated that we were not there, but we are here, present. I remember when my father was walking with me, I believe I was 10, and he said loud (enough to echo through the museum) WHERE ARE THE BLACK ARTISTS? At the time, I was embarrassed, but quietly screaming it in my spirit. My parents made sure that I would know who Black artists are not just visual art, but all the arts of expression.
It is know wonder that the pursuit of becoming an art historian was driven by the question WHERE ARE THE BLACK ARTISTS? I have discovered and uncovered so much about the impact that we have had as visual creators; even through the MAAFA of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. We have carried symbols, traditions, language and visions across the Atlantic and it still shows up; Black artists have been the through line to who we are and asking us to remember who we are.
Black Art History, specifically visual artists, represent their communities authentically, challenging stereotypes and giving voice to diverse experiences. It allows for the celebration of Black identity and culture, often underrepresented or misrepresented in mainstream art narrative. Art has provided platforms for our voices at times it has often been restricted. It is through the expression of our stories and images that disrupts and corrects the western canon of art (since the majority of its excellence has co-opted the artistry of the Black diaspora).
As an art historian and a griot of the Black Diaspora. it is my calling to capture, document, synthesize and tell our stories; the stories that were silenced, hidden and ignored.