Category: Visual Arts

REVIEW: Silver Linings

Maggie Watson Leave a comment

Spelman College is a historically Black women’s college in Atlanta, Georgia, which holds an art collection spanning over 100 years of African American artwork. “Silver Linings” brings a sampling of this historic collection to the walls of UMMA.

The exhibition includes 40 works from the Spelman Collection, a wide sampling that represents a slice of the history, experiences and aesthetics of Black Americans in the last hundred years. It features a few local connections as well, including several works by Beverly Buchanan, who spent the later years of her life in Ann Arbor.

There are some truly illustrious artists included in the exhibition, both historical and contemporary. I was excited to see a piece by Faith Ringgold, an artist whose work I have studied in depth. She is well known for her “story quilts” and similar pieces combining painting with textiles, often inspired by her childhood in the heart of the Harlem Renaissance. “Groovin’ High,” titled after a track by famous jazz musician Dizzy Gillespie, is a rhythmic and joyous scene of Harlem nightlife. It also serves as a demonstration of the artistic and historical significance of this collection.

The exhibition is largely organized into categories such as photography, portraiture and abstraction, with some works standing alone. I found the effect a bit disjointed, with no clear path to lead me through the gallery and no overarching story connecting different areas of the exhibition. However, a collection as broad as this one is best displayed with a diverse range of works and topics, so it is understandable that curatorial emphasis was placed on several smaller groupings of work around different themes.

Of all the works in “Silver Linings,” I was particularly drawn to the ornate mixed media works of Lina Iris Viktor in the “Portraiture and Subversion” section. Her work combines photographs with ink, paint and pure gold. She captures Black female bodies in lush, dark compositions, filled with deep shadows, with only soft highlights and bright accents of gold to distinguish the figures from their surroundings. These were visually stunning celebrations of the beauty of Blackness, skillfully subverting racist and colorist tropes.

Betty Blayton, “Vibes Penetrated.” 1983, acrylic on canvas. Image via Neil Kagerer and UMMA.

I also enjoyed the works in the “Abstraction” section of the exhibition. Betty Blayton’s “Vibes Penetrated,” the huge circular painting used in marketing materials for the exhibition, is even more stunning in person. The exhibition text references Blayton’s intention to create a “meditative pause,” which I felt as I lingered in front of it—the composition is active yet calm, and I felt that I could have stared at it for hours. Another highlight of this section were the luminous paintings of Michigan alumna Lucille Malkia Roberts (MFA 1939). Her works “Out of the Blues” and “Winter Sun” used beautiful complimentary colors and expressive brushwork that felt joyful and bright.

I did not love every single piece in “Silver Linings,” but I found several that spoke to me. Any exhibition with such a broad variety of work can never be a perfect fit for one individual’s taste. That breadth, however, means there is room for many different kinds of people to find an artwork they connect to. Others may find that their favorite works are very different from mine, but there is something for everyone in “Silver Linings.”

“Silver Linings” is on display at UMMA until January 5th. An exhibition tour by guest curator and History of Art professor julia elizabeth neal will occur on November 10th.

REVIEW: Hey, We Need to Talk!

Maggie Watson Leave a comment

Through its Vote 2024 suite of programs, the U-M Museum of Art has asked the campus community, “How can we strengthen our democracy?” Visiting artist Philippa Pham Hughes answers this question with the title of her exhibition: “Hey, We Need to Talk!”

Hughes, the current Visiting Artist For Art & Civic Engagement at UMMA, is a social practice artist who works to create a flourishing society through human conversation and connection. With the presidential election approaching and politics an increasingly divisive subject, it’s harder than ever to communicate with those who disagree with us. With “Hey, We Need to Talk!” Hughes encourages us to sit down, break bread, and talk honestly about our fears and hopes for America.

The second-floor Crumpacker gallery has been transformed into something that is part curated art exhibit, part interactive experience, and part community gathering space. Brightly colored wallpaper (designed by artist Louise Jones, also known as Ouizi) covers the walls, bursting with beautiful illustrations of the nation’s fifty state flowers against a pastel pink background. Groups of comfortable chairs and low tables form places to sit and converse in small groups. The space feels instantly joyful and welcoming. The works of art hanging on the gallery walls are well curated, chosen from UMMA’s collection to provide discussion prompts about American life and values, but they take a back seat to the social artwork of the exhibition as a whole.

The exhibition’s Gallery Guide describes it a “social sculpture,” and invites visitors to “complete the artwork” by making social connections with others in the space. It gently encourages discussion with other viewers, and provides a series of open-ended questions about the artworks as a conversation starter. There is also a tear-away card in the back of the pamphlet, asking participants to write their answer to the question, “What does it mean to be an American?”

 

A selection of answers to the question “What does it mean to be American?” written by visitors to the exhibition. Photos by the reviewer.

I found these cards to be the most compelling part of the exhibition. Large photo albums filled with them are placed on tables around the room. I sat and flipped through one, reading the answers, which ranged from silly to profound. Some were clearly written in elementary schoolers’ handwriting, some in other languages. They expressed a wide range of sentiments, from gratitude and hope to frustration and despair.

Throughout the period of the exhibition, numerous events focused on fostering dialogue about American democracy will be held in the gallery space. This includes the weekly Common Sense Diner events, where people with differing political viewpoints share a meal and guided conversation. Participants are not asked to reach an agreement or change their views—only to ask questions, listen, and try to find care and common ground if they can.

This exhibition is unlike any other I have experienced at UMMA. It goes beyond artwork on gallery walls, fostering genuine delight, comfort and connection. If we want to build a stronger nation where everyone can flourish, maybe all we really need to do is just sit down together and talk.

“Hey, We Need to Talk!” is on display at UMMA until February 9, 2025.

REVIEW: The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

Abigail Goodman Leave a comment

Right after watching “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” and right before a sleepless night of terror and anxiety, I had an argument with my friend. From my perspective, the film is a perfectly-constructed yet meaningless slasher movie exploiting an understanding of human psychology to menace audiences for no real reason. As Roger Ebert said back in his 1974 review, “it’s simply an exercise in terror.” From my friend’s perspective, the film is a master class of storytelling and theme, harnessing the horror genre as a vehicle through which to express family infighting, fear of disability, and the inherent dread of living in small-town Texas. 

I wasn’t buying that – what about the movie’s constant reversal back to tired old horror tropes to express these themes? That doesn’t strike me as very creative, or very revolutionary. “Abigail,” my friend said, looking at me like I just told her Marvel movies are the height of cinema, “‘The Texas Chain Saw Massacre’ invented those tropes.”

Released in 1974 by director Tobe Hooper, “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” is the prototype of horror movie filmmaking that Gen Z’ers like me already know in our bones. In Tropedia, a wiki for artistic tropes, the movie is credited as a “Trope Maker,” the first example of themes that would eventually become wildly familiar. The movie follows Sally and her wheelchair-bound brother Franklin, who are traveling, along with three friends, through rural Texas to visit their grandfather’s grave. They’re on this road trip because of a string of grisly grave robberies that have been terrorizing and mystifying the town. 

Things get weird quick. The squad soon picks up a scary hitchhiker, who seems mentally ill and cuts Franklin with a knife. When they run out of gas and stop at a gas station, it is suspiciously out of fuel. After deciding to knock on a nearby dilapidated-looking house for help, the group is confronted by Leatherface, a deranged murderer, and his three cannibalistic accomplices. The group kills the kids off one-by-one, with only Sally emerging alive but traumatized. 

For the scaredy-cat in me, that plot is riveting enough. But for the snobby film reviewer, I’m amazed to watch the first seeds of the modern horror genre being planted. The abiding horror of remote southern towns? Sounds a lot like “Children of the Corn.” A group of rowdy youngins being picked off by a murderer? “Scream,” “Friday the 13th,” and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” come to mind. That murderer using a chainsaw to run down his victims…does that remind anyone else of “American Psycho”?

Few movies are remembered for both spawning a whole genre and perfect cinematography. Shot after shot in “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” the tension is stretched, streeetched, streeeeetched – and then breaks. In one memorable scene, the camera zooms in on Sally’s terrified, vividly-green eyes as her assailants feast on human flesh around an elegant dinner table. “Yes please,” say artistic giants like Ridley Scott, Guillermo del Toro, Stephen King, and Quentin Tarantino, who have all praised and drawn inspiration from the film. This is the stuff of nightmares. And of history.

REVIEW: The Apprentice

Abigail Goodman Leave a comment

Roy Cohn is a malicious vulture on screen: he flicks his tongue over his lips, piercing eyes bulging out of the sides of his face, head bobbing as he sizes up his prey. His philosophy can be summed up as “play the man not the ball,” and he backs up that worldview with a hidden backroom filled with incriminating tapes he uses to blackmail the necessary judge, politician, or prosecutor. In “The Apprentice,” we see how he turned a young, ambitious Donald Trump into the former president America knows today.

Director Ali Abbasi’s fantastic Donald Trump origin story is shepherded by the acting chops of its two stars: Jeremy Strong, tragic figure of  “Succession,” as Roy Cohn, and Sebastian Stan, squared-jawed Marvel hero, as Donald Trump. When the two meet in an exclusive NYC club in the 1970s – Cohn already an established lawyer and Trump a real estate upstart looking to impress his draconian father – thus begins a relationship that will last decades. Trump is struggling with a lawsuit alleging anti-black discrimination against his tenants. Cohn, the shrew political operator, makes his problem go away. Perhaps he sees something in the young man desperate to make a name for himself. Perhaps he simply likes having the tall, blonde, handsome – as he says, “thoroughbred” – Trump around. Either way, the apprentice is born. 

Aside from the first meeting scene, which sets the stage, the plot zooms through key points in the Trump timeline. He’s buying the decrepit Commodore hotel! He’s fighting for a tax break from anti-corruption mayor Ed Koch! He’s being interviewed on TV! He’s buying casinos! He went bankrupt! He’s back again! Roger Stone is convincing him to run for office under the slogan “Make America Great Again”….well, we know how that ends up. 

Many Americans are only familiar with the third act of Trump’s story. “The Apprentice” introduces us to the first and second. The plot is certainly entertaining enough to captive audiences for its two-hour runtime. But the emotional core of the movie is the relationship between Cohn and Trump, played to perfection by both actors, and its evolution as Trump goes from apprentice to master of the universe. Trump’s intoxication with Cohn – who journalist Wayne Barrett described as having “the presence of Satan” – is plenty juicy. But Trump’s surpassing of Cohn, even betrayal of Cohn as Trump gains power, is much more poignant. 

Alongside actors Strong and Stan is an incredibly talented supporting cast. Fred Trump (Martin Donovan) is as terrifying as he is bushy-eyebrowed. Fred Trump Jr. (Charlie Carrick), Trump’s older brother who died young from alcoholism, should have his own movie. The best in the bunch is perhaps Maria Bakalova as Trump’s first wife Ivana, the Czechoslovakia-born powerhouse, who is a capable interior designer as well as socialite to the New York City elite. This hardworking drive would eventually lead to her divorce, with Trump, jealous of people seeing his wife as his business equal, leaving Ivana for his mistress. 

Obviously (at least in my opinion), Abbasi’s releasing of the movie just 25 days before the election is a political move. Trump’s campaign manager duly responded, calling the movie “garbage” and “malicious defamation” that “sensationalizes lies” about Trump. I certainly do not believe “The Apprentice” will sway any Trump voters to the other side. In fact, the movie will most likely contribute to his cult of personality. Who is this businessman, this charlatan, this leader of men, this future president, this bumbling idiot. To whom did we vest the most power in, perhaps, the entire world. Who is The Donald? Do we want to find out?

REVIEW: Joker: Folie à Deux

Abigail Goodman Leave a comment

When Joker was released back in 2019, some even called it a masterpiece. The film’s high-definition realism and bleak nihilism offered a topical, fresh take on the much-beloved supervillain. Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), an isolated-yet-gentle failed comedian with mental health problems, is failed by every system that is supposed to take care of him. His descent into lunacy is a result of society’s failings, not an inherent evil or psychopathy. Gotham is burned to the ground, and Thomas Wayne, father to the future Batman, is dethroned as a bully and false emperor. 

In 2019, this version of Joker’s struggle for Gotham’s soul worked. Covid-19 was making its way to the United States, condemning us all to a long period of isolation and stress. Donald Trump’s presidency was emboldening hate groups throughout America. George Floyd’s murder in mid-2020 resulted in widespread protests that reflected the outpouring of anger in Joker’s final scenes. The film offered genuine insight into the public mood, and was rewarded with generally good reviews and box office success. 

Joker: Folie à Deux does not work. Directed by Todd Phillips and with the same creative team as the original, it’s hard to tell how the sequel went so wrong, so fast. The costumes and sets are high-quality. Lawrence Sher’s cinematography is wonderfully grimy and dramatic. Lady Gaga is skillful as the deranged Harley Quinn to Fleck’s Joker. Even the decision to make the movie a musical feels appropriate in the context of Fleck’s break from reality. But while Joker had a hero’s (or anti-hero’s) story, Joker: Folie à Deux’s plot of Fleck’s imprisonment in the brutal Arkham State Hospital and trial for murder meanders on with no purpose or obvious audience. There is no more cultural mood to tap into, no fresh take on an over-renditioned cartoon. It’s just a nothingburger of horror. 

Unlike in Joker, which witnessed a full character transformation and societal upheaval, nothing actually ends up happening in Joker: Folie à Deux. Fleck is marched back and forth between courthouse and cell, terrorized by sadistic guards, falls headfirst into a relationship with so little chemistry I cringed every time Phoenix and Lady Gaga were on screen together. Harvey Dent, played by a handsome Harry Lawtey, is cast as the prosecutor on Fleck’s murder case, but has none of the yummy capitalist greed as the original’s Thomas Wayne. In fact, we find ourselves rooting for him over the obnoxious and defeated Arthur, who never even does anything as Joker: not a crime, not a murder, just one tepid escape attempt that goes nowhere. The film’s ending is random to the point of absurdity. 

As for the musical scenes, I felt they were used as an excuse to break up a script mostly just killing time. Lady Gaga’s immense talent was put to use on limp songs seemingly unconnected to the plot, while Phoenix’s acting chops were given nothing to work with – just a Potemkin village of meaningless violence that had audience members checking their watches for when we could finally go home. 

If this film had a message to tell, I would be all ears. But Joker already made his stand. There was no need to drag this killer clown out for an encore. 

REVIEW: 28th Annual Exhibition of Artists in Michigan Prisons

musicalsoup Leave a comment

[Title photo: Kings Gambit by Marte’nez Sr.; Acrylic]

The Prison Creative Arts Project (PCAP) is an initiative through the Residential College at The University of Michigan with a mission dedicated to bringing those impacted by the justice system to the U-M community for artistic collaboration, mutual learning, and growth. The program hosts a variety of workshops in visual art, theater, choral music, photography, and more. The Duderstadt Gallery is hosting an exhibition of a year-long collaboration with PCAP featuring art by incarcerated artists.

To produce the gallery, the PCAP community visited 24 adult prisons throughout the state of Michigan to handpick the selection of art being presented. During their visits, the volunteers review artwork and have the opportunity to discuss and exchange insights with artists, fostering a profound understanding of the intent behind each distinctive piece.

[30 Animal Granny Square Blanket by Douglas Bail]

The gallery intrigued me with the inherent individuality behind each piece. There were paintings, pencil drawings, sewn creations and figurines—and more! There was truly a collection of artistic mediums and untold stories.

[Boxed In by THE TEXAN; Acrylic, Canvas]

The gallery is open until April 3rd, and the hours of operation are listed below. Much of the art is for purchase at a variety of price ranges, from $35 to well over $500. There are many resources located at the gallery with ways to get involved with PCAP and other community and outreach groups in Michigan at the University and beyond. I left the gallery with the quote from the welcome guide ruminating through my mind:

“Art has truly saved my life. It has broght light in a place designed to keep us in the dark. It allows us to tell our story, or express how we feel not having to say a word. Art gives voivce to the voiceless…”   —DaJuan

 

 

Gallery Hours:

Sun & Mon 12PM – 6PM

Tues – Sat 10AM – 8PM

 

More about PCAP here.

 

 

 

 

[Piano Jewelry Box with Drawer & Bench by Kimmy L. Emig; Wood]