Kara Walker

So, I've finally seen the Kara Walker exhibition at Gammel Strand, Copenhagen. It's a great little gallery, the same place I saw Isaac Julian (In fact, that is probably the last time I visited this space, and this was years ago!).
I had only two hours to view the entire show, which simply is not enough time, so what I'm offering are very peripheral impressions, along with some of the comments of my companions.

I preface all of this with the fact that I support any artists' endeavor towards what his or her personal truth(s) is(are). I recognize that this journey, whether private or public, can be very messy. Alice Walker comes to mind when I write this, because she is a writer whose work never fails to strike me by its honesty: And when a writer speaks so brazenly from his or her own heart I can not, in any shape way or form write anything to hurt them. Instead, I would rather take the time to commend them, as I believe all internal dialogs, when offered on display, are acts of heroism. I write this assuming that ones work does not impose pain on others--and I ask the reader to exercise some elasticity with these very broad terms I find myself using.

There are three general responses I have found Walker's work elicit from me. I find that I am sometimes amused (and historically vindicated), provoked or bored. This piece is not to be confused with a typical critique of her work, but rather a personal response to it.

I love her choice of mediums (cut out silhouettes, overhead projectors, puppets)and feel that it is successful in forcing us to confront the "taboo"--that which we do not speak about (sex, race and gender). At the same time, I have to allow for the fact that there are things which she gives voice to that I love and champion, and others that make me cringe. But I am careful not to make personal correlations between the artist and this aspect of the art which causes my own personal discomfort. I try to respect the distance between who she is and the many variables at work in her exploration of her world. I want to grant her permission to speak of things that although I would never speak about, should never have to be boiled down to "granting permission". Again, it is about unraveling the taboo, and no one said it would be a neat job.

Works like Harpers Pictorial History of the Civil War writes, what is for me, an historical us, into the history which has been of course, written by the "victors".

I also enjoy most of the cut-outs on an aesthetic level, but to be honest, find that I am not that surprised by the subject matter. "How long is she going to do this?" One of my companions said, "She's been doing this since 1995."
It's true that much of what was on exhibit did not seem as "fresh" as when she first burst on the scene but I would like to comment on what I suspect is at work here, i.e. why does it seem that Walker's work is not progressing?

The fact of the matter is, to be an artist, to be a "successful" artist in this particular juncture of history where we find ourselves is to be able to live off your art. Now, I don't subscribe to this view, and have grown to appreciate what the life of an artist usually entails: poverty and a dedication to your art despite this poverty. However, there are a "chosen" few who manage to live within and off this system and in order to this, as in any other industry, entails the ability to sell your work and generate an interest around your work (marketing).
I told my companion that I suspected (and hoped) that Walker had probably artistically grown much from what was on view, but that perhaps these shows and visibility is what financially enables her to continue creating. It is no secret that artists grow sick of their work.
I couldn't help but wonder, she too must tire of this ongoing debate about her work and that surely, she too, is past what she has previously felt compelled to create?
Speaking from a personal perspective, I think of my own collection of poetry, The Organist's Daughter, which if I had had a choice, I would not have ever put it out in the first place. But I had to in order to move forward in my creative life. This collection had been written many years ago, and if I am to be honest with myself, I would rather not continue with whatever creative process I had begun with it. Why? Because I am past it, but the work, in a sense, demands to be kept alive. But that is the dilemma of creation: Once you put something out into the world, you better be prepared to live it with it forever, because this creation develops a momentum all of its own and is no longer controlled by your silences but by each and every encounter it experiences apart, separate from you. It reminds me of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein in the worst of cases.

I also found myself wishing that there were more interesting juxtapositions created in her work--the irony sometimes flattens out and becomes almost like a monotonous drone and I find myself wanting to shake Walker out of the goings-on of her mind, because all of us, no matter how clever, can become prisoners of our own perspectives.

When we talk about the "art world" we must be careful to be clear about whom it is we are speaking about. The "art world" the world which courts Walker is, to be sure, an elitist venture. They are as out of touch with reality as New York City book editors. As in any other capitalist industry, there is a constant hunt for the "authentic" --the more isolated and apart you live your life the less, real, authentic human encounters are experienced. I don't envy the discourse Walker finds herself enmeshed in, which is why I tend to be very forgiving when I feel she pushes that envelope. I can't help but wonder when I look at some of her pieces, when I read some of her text, "Who is she writing for?" "Who is reading her work?" But in the end I always come back to the same answer: Herself.

Again, Walker must be supported for speaking her truth: it might not sometimes be my truth, but it is hers and sometimes, our truths, even our lies, collide. I hope to someday view her work and see a progression, see that she is given permission to progress, or better yet, demands the space to progress, because to me, Walker is, by all accounts, dedicated to her work, as her work is her life and the two are inseparable, and like many of us, that is her cross to bear.

And on another note, check this out: Blackgirl on Mars Translated!