Sunday, June 1, 2014

Brown Sugar Babies


After reading Isabel Wilkerson's "The Warmth of Other Suns," I will never look at lemons or a glass of orange juice in the same way. Learning about the men who worked in Florida's citrus groves opened my mind to the pain associated with the sweetness we enjoy. Kara Walker's latest work has had a similar impact on me. 
Before heading to Brooklyn with the 7th graders and their illustrious art teacher Mattias Leutrum, I read everything I could find online. I looked at pictures and videos. I listened to interviews on NPR. I thought that I had Kara Walker's exhibit at The Domino Sugar Factory figured out.


"A Subtlety" was a meditation on the price paid for the sweet tooth that developed in America and Europe. It referenced the blackness required to refine sugar and turn it white-like the drop of black required to make Optic White paint in Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. It represented a critique of stereotypes of black women. 

I was confident about what I thought I knew, but I wasn't prepared for what I would feel when I entered the cavernous former refinery. Immediately, I was struck by the beauty of the various shades of brown: the walls, the floor, the rafters, and the sugar babies born of resin and sugar. I was drawn to the children carrying baskets of sweetness made of the broken pieces of other sugar babies.  Perhaps my attraction to these sculptures was due to the fact that they appeared to be around Chloe's age. 

As visitors poured into the space the babies were surrounded by people taking pictures. It felt like I was watching tourists taking pictures of native children in third world countries (ironically the sculptures were modeled on souvenirs sold in the Carribean).  I felt angry and exposed. What were they thinking? Why were they here? Had they done their research? Did I have the right to judge?

Kara Walker happened to be at the exhibit the day we visited. She was surrounded by a tight circle of well-wishers, hipsters, and students. I got the sense that the answers to questions were not as important as being in the vicinity of the artist. It was as if Walker herself was part of the show. I felt the same sense of possessiveness as I did for the sugar babies. 

I am proud that the 7th graders were bold enough to try to initiate a conversation with Walker. They asked great questions: why not use brown sugar to create the lady sphinx? How do you feel when you walk in and see your own work?  Why expose her breasts and buttocks? How do you prevent rats from getting in here? 

As I approached the lady sphinx I was struck by her beauty, her strength, and her softness.  The gentle curve of her back and the way that her feet curve underneath her body.  This was not necessarily a critique of stereotypes but an affirmation of the multiple roles that black women play in spite of economic exploitation: nurturer, lover, leader.  This woman is not a victim; she is a keeper of mysteries. 


Visit this exhibit before the sculpture and The Domino Sugar Factory is demolished in order to make room for the future (probably condos and commercial space). "A Subtlety" runs until July 6th.
Thank you Cheryl for making this amazing experience possible!