Faith Ringgold’s “American People” Retrospective Exhibit
Faith Ringgold
What is North American art? Who are the North American People?
There are many answers to these two questions — and more likely — curators, art lovers and art critics will respond with conflicting opinions. Equally, one might add other questions like: “What are the goals of North American art?” and “What should be included in an artist’s retrospective?”
You may begin your search for answers with a visit to the New Museum to see Faith Ringgold‘s retrospective “American People“, February 17, 2022 – June 5, 2022.
Ringgold’s quilts, paintings, sculptures and other works are deeply influenced by her life experiences in the United States of America — the symbols include American flags, the faces of famous African-Americans and a few European-Americans.
As for her goals, there seems to be several inherent in Ringgold’s work — Expression, explanation and exploration are parts of it. My question here is: What is fitting for a retrospective? This presentation is touted as the first full retrospective in New York of Faith Ringgold. It includes a few well known works and many that are less so. The time span of the works ranges from the 1960s to the near present.
There are pieces here that are pretty, even beautiful, and filled with emotion. Some are intricately detailed works that require intensive reading from the visitor; others use just a few colors and pared down rounded shapes that can be appreciated quickly. There are bold, joyous works and then there are violent fraught pieces. The majority of artworks feature one or more persons.
It is fitting that this exhibition opened during the month of February, “Black History Month”, and traversed March, “Women’s History Month”. African-American life and womanhood are an integral part of Ringgold’s art, her themes and her activism, as well.
Ringgold’s Early Works
The first work you’ll see as you start your visit on the second floor is Ringgold’s self-portrait from 1965, on loan from the Brooklyn Museum. Serious and confident in demeanor and gaze, this is a fine introduction to the works on this floor, most of which date back to the 1960s. (A few later works are included.) The early galleries here contain portraits, sometimes of one person, or two, or a group. There are Black people and White people. Rarely does anyone smile in these portraits — the eyes are the most prominent facial characteristics. These are American people — staring at you, or, just away from you — presented in the artist’s signature style.
It’s a bit distraughtfull viewing the mural “American People Series #20: Die” from 1967. It depicts a frenzy of men, women and children, black and white, mostly panicked, running away or struck with fear. In the scene are two people brandishing a gun and a knife. Near the lower middle of the mural, a White boy and a Black girl are huddled together to protect each other, as they observe, from the horrors surrounding them. This painting is very much a product of its time.
Another violent depicting painting hangs nearby, it more subtle and symbolic, “American People Series #18, “The Flag is Bleeding” also from 1967. There are other paintings in the show that place the Flag of the United States front and center. Next, we see the “Black Light Series” paintings. They were rendered in dark hues. These paintings require close examination and have a brooding quality or evoke a feeling from the viewer to have gazed at it in a darkened room.
A renowned piece on this floor is “For the Women’s House” from 1971 — Ringgold painted it for the Department of Corrections. (Note that she created this work for Rikers Island, but it has been moved to the New Museum and then will be on display at the Brooklyn Museum.) We see more female narrative pieces here in the “Feminist Series”. At first glance, the presentation looks like pleasant outdoor scenes. Up close, the texts painted on the three paintings are from the “Slave Rape” series. Each work features an undressed black woman (except for jewelry); #1 is “Fear Will Make You Weak,” #2 is “Run You Might Get Away” and #3 is “Fight to Save Your Life”. We see that the messages are urging this unnamed woman to gain control of her predicament and to stay strong.
Artwork representing Ringgold’s activism in the 1960s and 1970s are grouped together. Included are powerful lithographs, correspondence, fliers, photographs and other historical documents. Among the causes, Ringgold protested for, were greater gallery and museum representation for African-American and female artists.
Also included on the second floor was my favorite work of the whole exhibition, “Mrs. Jones and Family” from 1973. This work is very different from the rest of the pieces on this floor: a mother and her three children, created from sewn fabric and embroidery. These characters are doll-like, and almost life-size, but without feet. Their faces echo the style of certain African masks, with circular eye sockets and open mouths, and braided hair of yarn. A sly contemporary touch is the mother’s button that reads “Shirley Chisholm for President.” There was something very sweet and touching about this piece, and, it seems to be timeless, at others very specific to its era.
Works from the 1980s
The third floor begins differently. We see more abstract and patterned works, especially quilts, and several masks of people. Then there are several quilts that tell stories or offer glimpses into life. In contrast to the earlier paintings that showed people and little more, these are highly detailed scenes with people and items, and the backgrounds are important as well. New York City figures prominently in a few, “The Bitter Nest, Part II: The Harlem Renaissance Party”(1988) and “Sonny’s Bridge” (1986).
Among the most recognizable pieces in the exhibition are the quilt and drawings from the “Tar Beach” series — one of several books written for children by Ringgold. These are colorful and many have an engaging sweet homey quality.
Historically significant people also figure strongly in several pieces on the third floor. There are quilts showing Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Martin Luther King Jr., and other illustrious African-Americans. And “Bessie’s Blues: The American Collection #5” (1997) echoes Andy Warhol multiple prints of celebrity faces.
An eerie and surprising miniature gallery is tucked into a stairwell between the third and fourth floors. Two startling pieces, “The Screaming Woman” and “Atlanta’s Children” (both 1981) address a horrifying set of murders of black children in Atlanta. They seem to occupy a nether space and don’t quite fit in with either of the works on the floors above or below.
Later Works
The fourth floor is devoted to Ringgold’s quilts of a particular 1990s series, “The French Collection,” and these are unusual. They tell the story of a fictional African-American woman who travels to France and interacts with French artists, writers and intellectuals. Each quilt not only has detailed artwork but also painstakingly written texts. The idea of adding written stories, like sidebars, to the pieces of art is reminiscent of early political cartoons (even going back to the 1700s and 1800s) that were very wordy. Take the time to read at least some, if not all, the texts here.
And on the seventh floor, which has an outdoor deck and camera-worthy views of downtown Manhattan, there is a reading room with tables and chairs. A selection of Ringgold’s children’s books are available to read.
“American People” is embraceable and discomforting
Overall, “American People” is a wonderful exhibition that not only enlivens the eye it awakens the mind and makes you think. It will evince various emotions and thoughts. It’s not a comforting exhibition, although there are many pieces that have an embraceable quality. Ringgold’s talents are many and her sense of purpose, struggle and identity are fully on display here. It is a very American exhibition which could disturb and soothe, depending upon the visitor’s mood and the work he or she is examining.
Ringgold’s style and technique are her own, but her artistic influences include various African artistic tropes, storytelling, European artistic aspects, and more. Her style is accessible, especially when people are depicted. Her work consistently has a down to earth quality. This retrospective covers the output of someone who draws deeply from her communities, her identities, but who also creates artwork that can draw in a wide variety of people. No doubt there will be visitors who are disturbed by several of the works here, but that is healthy. Let Ringgold’s work be a catalyst for debates about art, representation and identity.
New Museum• 235 Bowery • NYC • (212) 219-1222.
When I visited the exhibit, the first thing that struck me was that the number of Black people working as security guards and at the desk was greater than the number of Black folks visiting the exhibit. This may just have been due to the day (Saturday) and time (afternoon) that I visited, but it was not surprising since most exhibits I’ve visited with works by our Black Creative Masters are exhibited in areas that Black folks generally do not frequent and in galleries that most Black folks don’t even know exist. While I am excited and please to see Ms. Ringgold’s work being shown anywhere, I continue to ponder this question of Black Genius being enjoyed and often exploited for the benefit of White folks.
I find it interesting that Ms Levitt’s article does not include a picture of THE SCREAMING WOMAN nor ATLANTA’S CHILDREN which Levitt describes as being located in a “nether space” because they seemingly do ” quite fit in…” To my dismay, this most disturbing work which includes one of Ringgold’s life size character dolls is indeed placed in a ‘nether space” off a small stairwell leading to the next floor, as if dilberately hidden from the rest of the exhibit. Why? While exhibiting the images that include frontal nudes may have made some visitors, including my pubescent granddaughter who was with me, a little uncomfortable, this very dramatic fabric sculpture of a woman in a green dress who has dropped her purse so the contents are emptied on the ground (SCREAMING WOMAN) and the chess board depicting the murdered black children as chess pieces (ATLANTA’S CHILDREN) was obviously intended to shock and disturb in order to bring attention to the cruel neglect of the story. It should have been exhibited in the center of the exhibition instead of in a small “nether space” on a small staircase off to the side. Perhaps if the exhibition had been curated and shown in a community where the majority of visitors look like the people in Ms Ringgold’s incredible art, SCREAMING WOMAN and ATLANTA’S CHILDREN would have been place in the center for all to see. Mrs. Jones’ Family as well as the funeral exhibit were poignant and meaningful to me as a Black woman of a certain age. The idea of ancestors…marriage, death, mourning, loss and rebirth as ancestors and spirit helpers in the struggle are themes that call out to anyone who recognize those doll sculptures with African mask like faces and missing feet. People from the African Diaspora of all stripes, not just the heady intellectuals, downtown artistes and educators, need to see this exhibition. This retrospective of one of our most precious and creative elders who is still with us.