Carriage House Gallery: Jacque Liu/Kim Faler
CAID
Through September 22, 2007.

Another week in Detroit, another new venue for artists to express, explore, and share their ideas with an audience always hungry for more to see and experience. For a rainy Saturday night in August, the inaugural exhibition at CAID’s carriage house gallery saw a pretty exceptional turnout from open to close. The space, over a hundred years old and long left abandoned, exemplifies the strength of Detroit art, reinvention, reinvigoration, and a constant process of breathing new life into old. It’s more than just a reuse, as it also demonstrates a stretch in the sort of possibilities a space might be considered for use. This is a tiny structure, but with the right imagination it’s clear to see it’s a rich canvas upon which to invent.

And Jacque Liu and Kim Faler do just that – with the kickoff exhibition in this unique new Detroit venue.

Liu tackles the exterior in ambitious fashion – covering the space from ground to eaves with a translucent plastic material, set out from the structure by a wooden frame. (The “coat” was perfectly appropriate on opening night – functioning and appearing a bity like a rain slicker keeping the carriage house dry inside!) This shell over the building is in keeping with his current body of smaller works – on Mylar, “drawings” made with cuts and creases, abstract composition all paying reference to architectural elements. In his gallery work, colored paper below the Mylar surface adds muted color and depth to the grid-based compositions. Here the color of the house sitting below the plastic serves in that same regard – softly revealing its presence. While the windows too are hidden below the surface, he brings them forward with a rectangle in white mirroring their form.
http://www.thedetroiter.com/b2evoArt/blogs/index.php?blog=2&title=jacque_liu_sight_lines&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1

As would be expected in working at this scale, it’s difficult to hit the crisp, clean aesthetic purity that’s such a delight in his smaller works. Nevertheless it makes a bold statement on the Warren frontage and entrance to the Woodbridge neighborhood and is a quite promising new avenue for Liu to continue to explore at greater length.

On the inside of the carriage house, Faler no less ambitiously dresses up all four walls and then some with blue silicon rubber molded to replicate the interior brickwork mortar. The molded mortar represents a reversal of materials and function, from hard and supportive to soft and useless. (She also creates a similar reversal with a doormat comprised of salt – rather than something to wipe our shoes off on, it’s what we wipe off of our shoes.) It hangs from supporting nails placed selectively around the walls, which means sometimes it sags and droops offering the graceful curve of a spider’s web, while in other places it more closely follows regular rectangularity. That the reference to bricks and mortar isn’t immediately obvious is good, this looseness of display allows for enough ambiguity for the viewer to respond in multiple ways. Additional strong touches include fragmented lines over the top of holes in the actual wall, all which invite the viewer to examine and pay greater attention to the actual structure as well – its beauty, construction, and degradation. And this is exactly the point and the strength of “What is a carriage house” as the first show. Yes, the individual art works stand on their own, but these installations serve as guides to better investigate what this building is and perhaps more importantly, to imagine what it could be.

And with that, Liu and Faler offer a lesson in possibilities for our landscape as reimagined through art. This city is teeming with such sites and we can only hope more such projects continue to emerge. Drive by, stop in, and start imagining other possibilities that could take bloom in this city. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Interview by Topher Crowder

At first, the creations of artist Franklin Jonas appear as simple as studying a single grain of salt that has spilled upon the table. But given time and your own curiosity, the works of Jonas soon begin to open up and reveal an entire vocabulary of evolution, a formula of flux. Simple yet bold fields of color laid in geometric patterns begin to speak to the rods and cones of your eyes, the visual conversation creates a rhythm of movement that pulses with every heartbeat. Adding to this optical language are the surfaces of his pristine works, slight brush strokes and patterns of subterranean woven canvas buried beneath layers of acrylic paint glisten ever so slightly in the light to create a sense of depth that is usually reserved for sculptural works. Jonas’ collection of works, over ten years in the making, is an entire thesis of process and change written in hues of acrylic paint.

As we all have learned from life though, what appears simple is in reality the most complex. The process of creating the works of Royal Oak native Franklin Jonas could fill an entire text book. Jonas, who studied at New York’s Pratt Institute, has invested a great deal of time and money experimenting with color, surface and technique to ensure that his works remain cohesive. Jonas believes that the process of creation is as important as the final work, “A lot of these works were created first in my mind. I go over and over it in my mind while I am on my daily three mile walks, phase one, phase two, and phase three… It was almost as if the pieces were done and I had to wait for reality to actually catch up to the event of completion.” The amount of planning only becomes obvious when Jonas’ collection is seen in a single large forum. Colors have been matched spot on in works that were completed years apart, angles are exactly 45 degrees, and the edges of works don’t interfere with the perfect roundness of circles. Jonas welcomes the challenge of perfection, “There was a lot of preparation for these, but I knew how much of a headache it would be if I didn’t prepare… Everything corresponds with something else and to do that you have to measure everything out first”. Each work relied heavily upon a library of Jonas’ own notes that were thirteen years in the making, but in the end experimentation ruled the day, “I prepared test panels; many test panels that had all been primed. I then purchased every brand of every single color I was planning on using. I had every company’s version of a color. After many weeks I had come found that some brands of colors did perform differently and that I had to adjust my studio’s humidity”.

Jonas’ work can be divided into three distinct categories; large Geo-structures, circular Embryos, and small Element Groups. Each one of these explores evolution and communication through color theory and shape, “They are a vocabulary. You have all the different elements and scales that are working together towards a system of energy, movement and flux.” Jonas continues, “They are their own system, like a single particle in four different phases. In the same way that neutrinos have four different phases. The earth also has four different phases. People also have phases. Everything is in a flux or a cycle. So they are of the same design and they represent four different cycles”. Jonas manages to create a discernable rhythm within his works that is clear and understandable. His works remain unmolested by unneeded distractions of pomp and frivolity, each is a carefully planned exploration into perfection. Jonas explains, “What I have always been interested in is the idea of perfection and perfect systems, the perfect flow of energy with no loss. That’s what these works are.”

Ultimately, any explanation does little to convey a true description of Jonas’ works. This is truly one time that a collection of works must be seen up close and in person to fully drink in what is being communicated through layers of acrylic paint and pristine fields of color, where an entire body of work can be seen together within the context of each other.

An exhibit of Franklin Jonas’ works can be seen at the JCC’s Janice Charach Epstein Gallery. Opening night is Thursday August 23rd at 6pm and the show will run until October 7th. Information about the gallery and the show can be found online at www.jccdet.org or on thedetroiter.com’s arts calendar.

Topher Crowder is an occasional contributor to thedetroiter.com when he’s not extremely hard at work with his own amazingly complex drawings. Check out a recent review of Crowder here.

Bagley Housing Collective
Through September 1, 2007.

The innocence of childhood, of times past, and of Detroit’s past, is captured with the brightly colored palette and narrative of Deborah Friedman’s painting exhibition “Claudene.” If the work had to be described by but a single word, it might be “sweet,” not in the ironic sense, nor for being saccharine or overly sentimental, but in terms of the honesty of expression in the words and images, and the satisfying journey they chronicle. But we get more than one word, so let’s proceed.

In each painting the narrator shares a brief vignette or observation about her friend Claudene and her, and their life in the small neighborhood. Despite the limited sphere of their environment, it is made wonderfully expansive by their inquisitive wide eyes and active imaginations and thus filled with plenty of places to explore and be delighted by. To a child, a pile of leaves becomes a “magical place” and snowfall transforms the neighborhood. The narration on one reads, “… we never went to a mall, … , we never went anywhere together. We just played all day.” They make “mud cookies,” have potato chips at tea parties, and model clothes on a stairway serving as runway on rainy days. With so many entertainment options now in our lives, do we forget how magical the mud and bugs in our own backyards can be?

Each story is told through simplified images of houses and other things that the girls encounter, without ever showing a single figure. Despite never depicting the girls, Friedman creates a strong image of their identities and this world they inhabit. Adults are present, but really as something “other,” much like adults in the Charlie Brown specials. “Mr. Bryant wore a uniform to work every single day. He must have done very important work.” With so simple a statement, Friedman succinctly and accurately captures a child’s perspective on the mysteries of adulthood and things like “work.”

While Friedman achieves a great deal of that perspective through the words and they are certainly essential, her imagery and use of color play an equally significant role. Color becomes the story. The girls’ melted orange candies transform into a magnificent field of poppies – dripping orange crescents pop out against a pale background. Sugary sweet, red pop is the color of friendship. Claudene’s parents’ house is a tranquil blue, befitting the narrator’s description of them – “I never heard anyone fight… they were so nice.” A blue suit worn by Claudene’s much older sister represents the transition into the adult world – and thus a different palette. Color becomes a way to talk about the loss of this innocence, a fear of this time going away. Content and color tell the story together. The cutting down of the family’s rose bushes – red swirls against a deep black backdrop – beauty and a first sense of loss for a young child. Two orange “X’s” indicating chain link fencing, and narration about the pool that the girls were not allowed to go to. “We never knew that there were mean rules like that.” Here we’re given a hint of an adult world to come and the barriers that come with it.

She makes multiple references to abandoned houses painted orange in Detroit (see words about the Object Orange project here) and the fate that befalls them. It’s bittersweet foreshadowing of what has indeed happened to so many of these neighborhoods. In her child voice she asks, “Claudene, does anyone care about our life before the orange paint?” “I do hope no one ever paints our houses down or tears them down ever, ever.” As we know, these homes have sat empty, a few have been painted orange, and many will be torn down.

As Friedman says of her motivation, “I was searching for a time in the city when we didn’t have all of these issues that we are facing today. I decided it was the make-believe playtime of childhood…. Once you start to grow up, the outside world enters and changes everything. You can escape some of it when you are a child.” The girls are on that threshold, even firmly at home in their make-believe and play, the adult world inevitably creeps in. It’s true in this fear of the loss of their home, that source of stability, as well as other adult-themes, as the narrator proclaims, “Our neighbors’ window was better than a TV.”

Friedman’s mix of pictures and words, like the best children’s books, connect to people of any age. They may be simple images and storytelling, but they are anything but simplistic. She opens a window to the innocence of childhood – one adults can recall, and in doing so we can connect to what’s been lost – what’s happened to our neighborhoods, the sense of safety of a block where children of any color played together all day long and fresh coats of paint weren’t a marker to bring the house down. This is an important story to all, and resonates deeply with Detroiters, who can see abandoned structures in their midst and imagine the lives that once played, once dreamed within.

The work succeeds well in its current form, the paintings stand strong on their own. One might also imagine the series printed and bound, to be read in the comfort of one’s own home on a rainy day. The Bagley Housing Collective serves as quite an appropriate venue for Friedman’s exhibition, and the work is displayed quite well in the cozy gallery space. Go for a visit. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

July 1 – September 30, 2007
Ella Sharp Museum of Art and History
3225 Fourth St.
Jackson, MI 49203
(517) 787-2320

Study art history and you find one style nudging another style out of the way; the new replacing the old. It is as natural as the cycle of life. This exhibition pays tribute to the “old media” that Kenneth M. Thompson, himself a sculptor, defines as “painting (50,000 years old), ceramics (30,000 years old), stone carving (27,000 years old) and bronze casting (8,000 years old)” in his curatorial statement in the catalogue.

Horses were a favorite subject of ancient cave painters. Jeri Hollister, ceramic sculptor from Ann Arbor, brings those horses down from cave ceilings, builds them out of clay and “paints” them with soft glazed effects that make them as seductive as their ancient counterparts. Spots nicked through the surface glazing or symbols carved into the hollow body of the horse create magical effects. Built from hand-thrown and extruded components that are re-assembled according to equine conformation, Hollister combines two of the oldest media to awaken our senses in the 21st century.

John Leyland, another ceramic sculptor and adjunct instructor at CCS, constructs large geometric/totemic forms with rough surfaces that resemble ancient disintegrating buildings. He demonstrates an interest in geology and anthropology via his large clay Geode with an earthy, tan exterior and a black, striated interior. Blade a wall mounted ceramic object coated with red beeswax resembles an enormous gorget, an ancient stone object. Title, size, texture and color combine to give Blade a most sinister aura.

Tom Rudd, Kenneth M. Thompson, and Gary Wertheimer are all stone carvers.

Tom Rudd, formerly of Detroit, in addition to carving simple objects in stone, also has an affinity for fish. His solitary Shiner greets visitors to the museum atop the wall near the front doors. In the main gallery he creates a Zen raked garden invaded by two schools of fish. Rudd injects humor into his meditation space with 36 carved fish swimming along in the waves of pea gravel! The fish are two different species as evidenced by the different dorsal fins. Could Rudd be saying that Westerners trying to practice an Eastern spiritual discipline are simply fish out of water?

Kenneth M. Thompson, of Blissfield, reveals the sensual character of stone by cutting and polishing stone in abstract shapes. Your eye savors the differences in the color and veining within the stone, as well as the subtle sparkle that polishing enhances. Each piece, whether pink, green, or white sings of timelessness and skill. Thompson is equally as masterful in handling similar shapes constructed of Corten or copper-plated steel.

Gary Wertheimer, of Olivet, draws on as well as chips away stone with his chisels. Cradle/Grave is a small, well-worked limestone bird’s nest carved atop a column. Curiosity aroused by the title pulls you close enough to look in and find the bronze bird’s skull nestled in the hollow space. Serpent and Mouse is a delightful work that portrays a stylized snake undulating over a shallow rise, its nose just tongue-flicking distance away from the tail of the bronze mouse that sits beyond the entrance of an irregular hole. The tension between the snake and the mouse is amusing because the mouse is freestanding whereas the snake, no matter how ominous it may appear, is forever anchored in the stone.

Norma Penchansky-Glasser, Ann Arbor, Anthony Frudakis, Hillsdale, and Sergio de Giusti, Redford Township, are all masters in bronze.

Penchansky-Glasser’s work is exciting because her figures stretch, balance, lean, and extend in defiance of gravity! Her patinas and surface remind you of the bronzes of Claudel, Rodin, and Degas. But the exaggeration of limbs and poses is entirely her own. Unfortunately, like many of the 61 pieces in the gallery, several of her most dynamic ones are placed on pedestals against a wall making viewing in the round impossible.

Anthony Frudakis’ work recalls the carefully rendered bronzes of the early twentieth century. Whereas Penchansky-Glasser infuses her work with her personal energy evident in the surface texture of her figures, Frudakis removes himself from the work. His figures are so clean, crisp, and purely rendered that you see them as miniature ideal humans. That is certainly true of the 22” figure of George Washington. This is a young, vital Washington ready to lead, not the tired fellow with wooden teeth and balding pate we see in historic portraits.

A master at creating psychological drama, Sergio de Giusti’s wrapped forms unsettle and mystify whether in bronze or patinated hydrocal. More approachable are the study panels for the Labor Legacy Monument in Hart Plaza. Making subtle changes in depth to highlight and shade important elements in this historical series, de Giusti creates dynamic compositions that emphasize the actions taking place. He makes ephemeral moments tangible and tactile whether in plaster, polyester resin, or the final bronze.

Robert Bielat, Detroit, Ray Katz, Auburn Hills, Russell Thayer, Franklin, John D. Witttersheim, Adrian, work with a variety of metals of more recent vintage.

Bielat’s recent work is a product of “bi-metal” casting, a direct casting process of pouring molten aluminum into steel and styrofoam that has been buried in a mixture of sand and fire clay. The result are elongated, totemic figures reminiscent of African burial staffs that are further embellished with chains, fishing swivels and copper wire.

Ray Katz’s Loops look as fluid and deceptively simple as paper ribbon scraps curled on a tabletop. The difference is that the sculptures are in fact made of fabricated and brushed stainless steel. A larger painted form sits outdoors at the entrance to the museum. Carving out space or curling into one another, the pieces wrap around our imaginations and whisper of relationships, paths of life, sensuality and light.

Whether working in aluminum, steel, wood, or bronze, the verticality of Russell Thayer’s work effects our posture, our thoughts, and our aspirations. His straight lines at right angles in Bloomfield Pond Piece and Sentinel provide balanced compositions in space that invite thoughts of transition, passage, movement in or out of guardian gateways. His volumes in Silo Cathedral and the five study pieces for it speak to the stability and mass with no room for error required by religion or the military.

John D. Wittersheim works with the plumb bob as an object theme. Most ambitious is the Seed Drill Bob that is suspended through the drill portion of the mechanism, and balanced in mid-air by the addition of two pennies on the half gear on the left. Most luxurious is the shiny, brass, teardrop-shaped Nib Bob. The entire brass surface is covered with tiny points, nibs, within tooled circles making it look as if encrusted with tiny gems. Suspended in the gallery they plumb the line between practicality and whimsy.

Although Ken Thompson voices his mistrust and dislike of “new media” in his essay, I doubt he has anything to fear. Electronic media evolves with lightning frequency and is too unstable to last. It relies heavily on paper documentation of its ephemeral existence.

More likely Thompson is rankled by the conundrum facing all artists with graying temples: disposal of their work after they’re gone. Whereas collectors are courted by museums for their collections, artists seldom are. These sculptors have been involved in the Michigan art world for a considerable number of years. Their work is imbued with the wisdom that only comes with age. Their technical skill is of the highest quality. Will galleries continue to sell the work and support the artists in their declining years? What will become of these objects so well composed, beautifully rendered? Will the work be broken up, melted down, end up in a landfill?

These twelve artists will go on, as if working was breathing…mortality and fashion be damned.

Dolores S. Slowinski, an empathetic gray-haired artist/writer

Design.99

The week that the Detroit News declared that the art scene had faded, a brand new space opened its doors. Owned and operated by Gina Reichert and Mitch Cope (of Tangent Gallery fame (in its earlier incarnation) among other arts activities in the city), have turned a raw storefront space into a vibrant and lively space. The opening (and really, this is a pre-opening, the actual first show will debut September 1st) was celebratory, as it opened early to give a big sendoff to Detroit artist Sara Blakeman – who’s off to China. It’s a loss – yep. For those who’ve been enjoying Blakeman’s quirky, fun, refreshing, candy-licious forms, it may be some time before being able to get their fix again. In heading far abroad, Blakeman will take with her her ideas from her time here to this new land and journey down a new path. She’ll spread some of what’s here to people there, she’ll learn from them, and maybe she’ll bring it back. In a world as small as today’s and shrinking daily, ideas spread like dandelion spores in the wind.

On display for the one night event, were a Blakeman’s dozen of bright, sparkly, cupcake and petits fours forms. Neatly arranged, spreading out over the walls of the space, her works mimicked tasty treats, with color and textures that attract our eye before our stomach. Her work has begun to evolve beyond its inspiration into greater abstraction as demonstrated by cupcakes oozing right out of their molds into something with a similar feel but no longer the same form. In her time here, Blakeman brightened the Detroit arts scene , and we should celebrate her new venture.

And it is in that same way we celebrate the birth of this new space – a piece of hope and a dream for those behind it. This venue adds to the growing mix of different approaches, another avenue for the creative works of Detroiters and others to share with an audience.

Detroit’s art scene fading? No. Blooming.

Look for the official debut of Design.99 in September, and many new venues and new faces to emerge this fall. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Gina Reichert

The Bohemian House
Through September 1, 2007

There are so many versions of what best describes Detroit and Detroiters. One that is particularly persistent (and true) is the Detroit of the Cass Corridor and the artists that made their home there. Folks who, after industry and significant portions of the population had fled, stayed on in this landscape of abandonment. I’m not sure you’d describe these denizens the “fittest”, as in “survival of the…”, but they are definitely survivors. These are scrappy individuals making their way with the creativity and willingness to get by in less than abundant living conditions. They make the most of what the landscape provides, which very much describes Detroiters.

Such is the content of Michael Mikolowski’s drawings. While there is no direct reference to the city – no landmarks and the like (that’s a different vision of the city), the strung out, seedy characters, and the dilapidated buildings that inhabit his compositions all scream Detroit. And there are the rats. What better symbol of a survivor than a rat? Not a majestic elk or a fearsome bear, but the lowly rat, sneaking around, living where other things won’t, and surviving on scraps of things others left behind. Mikolowski’s series of rat drawings are illustrations accompanying Sam Savages book, “Firmin: Adventures of a Metropolitan Lowlife.” Lowlife is such a great descriptive term. Speaks of something ground level, below ground level. If it were in the water, it’d be a bottom feeder. Sure, it also connotes shadiness, but these are survivors. The book (which I haven’t read) is about your slightly more sophisticated rat trying to connect to the humans he emulates. There’s something very sincere about Mikolowski’s lowlifes – whether rat or human. They’re just doing what they do to get by – there’s no pretense of being something other than what they are – creatures that need food, some form of shelter, and human contact.

Mikolowski’s cartoony drawing style reflects his content, there’s an honesty on display here that’s perfectly appropriate that comes through whether drawing this human-like rat trying to make his way in the world, seedy establishments, or the maze of pipes running below the buildings. These are things that he seems to know and feel through experience, and they’re put down on paper with no more and no less than they require. The once abandoned Bohemian National Home in its former (and perhaps future) grandeur is the perfect place for this. Check out Mikolowski’s take on life in the city when you’re taking in a music event at the space or some other event in this increasingly vibrant venue. - Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

This Week In Art
Motor City Brewing Works
August 1, 2007

Phaedra Robinson took center stage at the Motor City Brewing Works’ weekly one night offering recently, and took the opportunity to display a series of photos, sculptural works, all about offering a second look at where the food we consume comes from. It’s some powerful stuff, including brutal slaughterhouse pictures of pigs and pig products, wrapped neatly in soft, fuzzy, zebra print frames. The sculptural works are sticks with marshmallows mushed to them, a reference to camp fires and S’mores treats. Robinson’s statement is all about the “metaphor of the marshmallow,” using this ubiquitous snack and the fact that one of its ingredients comes from cow or horse hooves (you knew that right?), to bridge the disconnect between the source of our food and the pretty packages it comes in.

While the pictures are disturbing to say the least, and the sculptures and statement deliver their message loudly, it was the simple (quite brilliant) act of putting out a bowl of marshmallows as if a snack for the reception that really put it all together. This long time vegetarian (well aware of where marshmallows come from), saw that bowl before seeing the work and thought, “Yumm” and was tempted to pop a couple of them down. And it’s in this moment, where that connection between tasty treat to be consumed and what it comes from really hits home. I found my reaction to the work greatly intensified by my automatic response to the marshmallows. It’s the subtlety and utter innocuousness of the bowl of marshmallows that allows the message to sink in as deeply as it does. Here, Robinson creates a pause of consideration, not only while viewing the work, but more importantly, since the message in her work is anything but subtle, it’s a pause of consideration that will stay with viewers in the supermarket, at restaurants. Which is exactly what she was going for and achieves to great effect.

As usual, one never knows what a Wednesday night will hold, and even with a familiar face, this proves to be true. Look for something completely different on view each of the weeks to come. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Summer Ceramics Market
Detroit Artists Market
THROUGH: Aug 25 2007

Of late, the Detroit Artists Market has been on a run of trying different things to build energy and excitement, and keep this now 75 year old institution, lively and fresh. Surprisingly, they’ve chosen to do so, not by being so much hip or cutting edge, but instead by digging into the past and putting these things forth with a new spin. This can mean perhaps less challenging work on the whole, however, it’s succeeding quite well at bringing people out to the space – those who’ve come before and newcomers alike.

This time out it’s a ceramics show, put together by a team of strong local ceramicists, and they’ve organized something that runs a good portion of the gamut of the field – and LOTS of it. A show with over 75 artists and three-dimensional work can present one with indecipherable, overwhelming visual stimulation to say the least – we might imagine it feeling like a trip to TJ Maxx. But it’s not so at all – the Market pulls if off in great fashion. For such an accomplishment, tremendous credit must be given to the team responsible for hanging this show. Despite tremendous numbers and quite diverse pieces, it all is sensible organized and reads well, and the space feels open and accessible. It’s professional in terms of giving proper respect to all the work and nicely complemented with personal touches that give it a little more than just dropping a piece on a shelf – real flowers in water in vases for instance, and a truly inspired composition of small shelves holding single pieces each.

In displaying this volume and variety, because of the care in maintaining the distinctness of the individual works, the viewer has an opportunity to look at works of a form with which he or she might be familiar right alongside those not so familiar, allowing for the possibility of gaining new appreciation for what’s possible in the clay medium. By including such a range of artists, the curators ensure that the show ranges from the conceptual, more sculptural to the aesthetical driven and functional. There may not have been quite enough room for some larger, more installation-driven works, but a great deal is certainly covered and a strong showing of artists has been included.

The beautiful, the conceptual, and the functional all together – informing one another, and educating the viewer. An artistic accomplishment by the curators and the display team in creating this showcase for the talents and skills of the individual artists. Well done. – Nick Sousanis
ws@thedetroiter.com

Dolores Slowinski

Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History
315 East Warren Ave.
Detroit, MI 48201
(313)494-5800

Racism is learned and unlearning it is more difficult than breaking an addiction.

First a racist has to be willing to admit to being a racist. Then the person has to be willing to change, to be open to seeing similarities between people rather than differences. A racist individual has to be willing to be uncomfortable, to acknowledge the source of the discomfort, talk about it, and work through it for the benefit of the larger community.

Non-racists, or at least people who think they aren’t, also have to learn to be less judgmental and listen so as to encourage a dialogue. A non-racist also needs to be willing to be uncomfortable, to likewise acknowledge the source of discomfort, talk about it and work through it for the benefit of the larger community.

For everyone it means overcoming fear: fear of the unknown, fear of someone perceived as an enemy, fear of looking a fool, fear of change…not to mention overcoming a whole lot of stubbornness and clinging to stereotypes as the road of least resistance.

Racism has been woven into the history of this country so tightly we may not be able to wear it out. Not unless we talk about it so much we all turn blue in the face and finally say, “We’ve had it. Let’s throw that idea out the window and get on with our lives as one diverse country.” That may take another 400 years or more, but as Confucius said, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Detroit took that first step 40 years ago after the 1967 riots. Business people formed New Detroit to address race relations in the city. A white Catholic housewife and a white Catholic priest decided to establish Focus: HOPE to provide education and job training to help minority people rise out of the ashes of poverty. But those were baby steps taken compared to the running leaps of “white flight” when 1.4 million white people all but evacuated the city of Detroit over the course of several decades. Since then there’s been lots of attitude thrown around on both sides of 8 Mile Rd. making Detroit even less appealing. Despite it all, however, no one has had to turn out the light.

RACE: Are We So Different? is a terrific exhibition and should be a catalyst for the kinds of conversation we need to confront the racial division in the Detroit metro area.

The American Anthropological Association in collaboration with the Science Museum of Minnesota created this exhibition. It opened in Minnesota in January 2007 and almost immediately 9 of the 11 available travel dates were snatched up by museums on the East Coast and the Midwest before any museums in other parts of the country had a chance.

It is fortunate that the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History and New Detroit quickly assembled financial support from many sectors to bring this exhibition to Detroit. It opened on May 25th and closes on September 4th. You have only one month left to take it in.

This exhibition does three things:

1. It discusses the distribution and variation of different people on the planet. It points out the inconsistencies between scientific findings and popular ideas about race.

For example: Sickle cell anemia is often presented as linked exclusively to African Americans in this country. Yet the same biological mutation that creates the trait that produces the disease also protects a person against malaria. That trait can be found among people of Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, and Indian as well as African ancestry.

2. It presents the development of the concept of race and the role science played in forming it.

Phrenology, for instance, tried to tie the size and shape of the skull to mental abilities and character. It has since been proven false. The exhibition points out other popular theories of previous centuries, their inherent flaws, the sociological effects they had, and what has been done to correct them.

3. It presents the history of racism in the US from the importation and sale of Africans as slaves, to forcing Native Americans to live on reservations, to the displacement of Californians of Spanish speaking European ancestry as well as Native Americans and people of mixed race cultures from their farms by the land law of 1851, to the internment of Japanese Americans during WW II.

It points out the impact racism still has on our laws and our lives. It shows the subtlety that racism takes today in the form of linguistic profiling…identifying a person’s race or ethnicity by their speech patterns, accents and vocal inflection on the telephone.

It also provides compelling accounts by contemporary individuals of their experiences of race in the United States and the impact it has had on their lives. There is a very frank discussion among a diverse group of young students about how they have viewed one another, their behavior toward one another and the subsequent behavior it aroused.

There are personal accounts made by people of African, Asian, Native American, Mexican and European ancestry as well as a biracial couple that are remarkable in their honesty about experiences of discrimination, harassment, and mistakes made in speaking that have affected them personally.

RACE: Are We So Different? does all this with photographs, historical objects, maps, large cards to read, visual participatory panels as well as three major and several minor audio-visual presentations that are all worth seeing/hearing. It is broken up into two rooms with some introductory information on the landing between them.

I spent 5 hours over the course of two days trying to absorb all the information in the exhibition. I came away impressed and informed though I’d like to go back again to soak up a little more.

I found that the volume of some of the audio-visual presentations sometimes interfered with the larger presentations. More visitors are needed to absorb the sound as well as the information. This is an exhibition that invites interaction within the audience.

2nd Annual Forum on Community, Culture and Race
Concert of Colors
Max M. Fisher Music Center
3711 Woodward Ave., Detroit, MI
Comerica Charitable Foundation Diversity Stage
July 20, 2007
8:30 AM – 12:30 PM

I attended this forum sponsored by New Detroit, ACCESS, and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra to see how it would tie in with the RACE exhibition.

The Forum was a gathering of people in the arts, music, museums and cultural organizations that hope to make a difference in how race is perceived in the metropolitan area.

Hugh Masekela was the keynote speaker. He shared with us many anecdotes of his life, including the details of his reunion with his grandmother who raised him and whom he’d not seen in 22 years. Everyone in the audience was struck by the enlightening power of her words reminding not only Masekela but all of us that we are all born naked, we are all toilet trained, and none of us are ever grateful enough for the sacrifices our ancestors made so that we could be who we are and where we are.

In closing, he asked us to remember, that as we savored our desserts and sat contented at our dinner tables at home, the people of Darfur continued to suffer even as we continued to enjoy our lives. It was a vivid image of contrasts that cannot be forgotten.

His remarks were followed by a four-person panel moderated by Ana Luisa Cardona, Consultant for Arts Education, Michigan Department of Education.

George Moroz, Senior Director for External Relations, The Henry Ford, spoke of overcoming the limitations of its technologically focussed collection policy by highlighting social innovation in its permanent exhibitions. It also partners with other cultural arts organizations in using the site for multi-cultural experiences that help audiences see the contributions made by people of color to American history.

Aaron Dworkin, Founder and President, The Sphinx Organization addressed the riddle of race relations in the classical music world. African Americans and Latinos represent only 3% of orchestral membership nationwide. Minority staffing outside the body of symphony orchestras is even smaller. Dworkin has built an organization that begins to solve that riddle by teaching students, developing a program that culminates in a competition, a symphony orchestra, a quartet and three scholarship initiatives. It not only runs an intensive summer program for aspiring Black and Latino musicians, but also a national in-school initiative that takes Sphinx laureates to elementary schools in underprivileged areas and on to solo performances with participating orchestras.

Wei Xiao Dong, International Erhu Performer spoke of her experiences studying this traditional Chinese violin in China from the age of five to graduating at the top of her class in 1990, just a year after the student protests and massacre in Tiananmen Square. Following years of difficulty working in China, a friend helped her contact an American businessman to eventually secure passage to the US to work but not to play professionally. New friends encouraged her to perform in coffeehouses and informal venues. She eventually moved to St. Clair Shores and performed with the DSO. She was delighted to tell us that XD Wei, her contemporary band, had a slot to play on the Diversity Stage this year.

Rola Nashef, Filmmaker, Detroit Unleaded felt that the gas station is the point of intersection between Arab and American life, particularly African American life as presented in the film. Nashef hopes that her professional experience with members of the Detroit filmmaking community will make them think twice about portraying Arabs in a stereotypical way and that it will also shed new light on Detroit. (It was unfortunate that not even a short clip of the film was presented.)

In a discussion about what could be done to promote diversity and develop more diverse audiences, attendees concurred that a more diverse staff at any organization would relate better to a diverse audience. A more diverse range of soloists would bring new audiences. Reaching children and providing them with diverse programming, with exchanges with children from diverse cultures, with trips to museums and arts performances would plant the seeds of diversity in their young imaginations.

I was glad we were celebrating the accomplishments of all the speakers and coming up with ideas about how to nurture diversity, but I wondered about how to get the news to people who weren’t there, who don’t think diversity is important.

Finally, Shirley R. Stancato, President and CEO of New Detroit invited the audience to visit RACE, Are We So Different?

I also invite you to take a giant step, perhaps outside your comfort zone, and visit the exhibition. Then take a second giant step into new territory and begin a conversation with a fellow visitor, after all you will both find out you are more alike than different. No longer strangers, you can walk through the exhibition together.

Should you feel like taking an even “longer walk” in the comfort of your home or at the public library, check out the web site www.understandingrace.org. There you will be able to learn how the American Anthropological Association developed the idea for the exhibition. You will also be able to read their position paper in response to the Federal Office of Management and Budget’s Directive 15…the directive that places four categories of race and two categories of ethnic backgrounds on all kinds of forms, including census forms.

We need to keep taking those giant steps outside our comfort zone and keep talking to each other and listening until racism is a concept we no longer accept.

Dolores S. Slowinski is a regular walker and talker about the importance of diversity in Detroit.