Chapter 10: Thinking About Race

Day 5: Wednesday, June 28, 2017 (continued)
Mass MoCA

Someone had told me that we wouldn't need to spend much time at the Mass MoCA. It contains contemporary art, after all, which can sometimes leave you asking, "Really? This is art?" And  in the first exhibit we looked at I did ask the security guard, "What makes this art?" Because I do genuinely want to know why splotches of paint on a large canvas that aren't especially pleasing to the eye and don't look like much more than, well, ugly splotches of paint, get a place of honor in a major art museum. The young man shrugged and said, "Honestly, that's what I ask about most of the works in this museum." 

But the museum is enormous. Filling a half dozen old mill buildings, it contains a huge variety of artwork and, if some of it didn't strike our fancy, we found plenty that did. Here's a current article about it, with a great picture taken by a drone: https://dailygazette.com/article/2017/07/23/with-building-6-mass-moca-doubles-in-size.

There are many women who, if they want to enjoy themselves, will not go to an art museum with their husbands. Happily, I am not one of those women. Rob doesn't just tag along to keep me company. He immerses himself in careful scrutiny of every work on display, so much so that I sometimes have to pull him along to the next exhibit.

We were both mesmerized by this installation titled "Until" by Nick Cave:

I bought one of those dazzling things at a market in London when I was visiting our daughter during her semester abroad several years ago. It hangs all by itself on our porch, rather lonely. The collection of so many, multicolored and reflecting light in a multitude of directions was captivating. But contemporary artists often aren't about making something beautiful, but instead use their art to inform social issues. Hanging among all those wind spinners were images of guns and targets. This is from the museum's website:

“A paradisiacal landscape where [black-faced lawn] jockeys appear — made from the crystals that would normally go into chandeliers, on a raised platform accessible via four ladders — is the heart of “Until.” “I had been thinking about gun violence and racism colliding,” Mr. Cave said. “And then I wondered: Is there racism in heaven? That’s how this piece came about.”

Here's a picture of the raised platform where the black lawn jockeys hung out.

Finally, here's a link to an article about this work: New York Times.

Later in the day I saw a piece by Lonnie Holley called "Climbing to Better Understand the World." I didn't take a picture because I didn't think I'd be allowed to post it (I found out later that I could have), but here's the description:

There was a ladder with all the tools of an education stacked on it - books, computer, etc., and it was all wrapped in barbed wire, effectively blocking access to those tools.

Lonnie Holley is African American and grew up around the same time I did. I thought about how I have always taken for granted the education I received. Then I thought about other things I take for granted, like riding around the country on my bicycle.

When I was in my twenties I rode 3000 miles through Canada and the western United States alone. You would think that it could be worrisome for a young woman to travel alone but mostly I felt very safe. People looked out for me. Of course, I was traveling in Canada and the United States. I'm not sure I'd feel so safe in other parts of the world. So, yes, sometimes I do feel that being a woman constrains me in some ways. 

But these exhibits and the recent murders of people of color by our police forces got me thinking. What would it be like to be a person of color touring the country on a bicycle today? Would people you meet treat you with the respect and curiosity that Rob and I experience? Or would they treat you as a threat? Would you be safe from police interrogation and citizen vigilantes? Would you dare stop at someone's house to ask for water or directions? I wonder.