There’s something sobering about Summer, a photograph from Wendy Red Star’s Four Seasons series. It’s not the sun-drenched forest or bed of lemon-yellow, cherry-red and ivory blossoms. Neither is it the snow-capped mountains or spindly pines. It’s the Apsáalooke (Crow) artist herself, pictured in the foreground, looking at something in the distance with a gaze that startles. The setting, on closer inspection, is artifice: the mountains, a photograph; the florets, mere plastic. She alone is alive, eyes affixed on a world out of frame.

So opens “Many Wests: Artists Shape an American Idea,” an enthralling survey of 48 modern and contemporary artists at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington, D.C., the final stop on a two-and-a-half-year tour. By turns serene and harrowing, the West here brims with life. In one canvas, Michael Brophy’s Beaver Trade, a sky of muted blues, ashy purples and flamingo pinks is broken by a totem pole scarred with tendril-like footprints. In a photograph, from Christina Fernandez’s series Maria’s Great Expedition, a woman stands, slumped-shouldered, before a teal wall and rusting stove. Her gaze is unnerving. “I’m here,” she seems to say. “I always have been.”

“These artists are speaking from a place they know well,” says Anne Hyland, curatorial coordinator of the museum’s Art Bridges Cohort Program, a five-year exhibition partnership funded by the Art Bridges Foundation. Arrayed on the exhibition’s jewel-toned walls is the work of Black, Asian American, Indigenous, LGBTQ+ and Latinx artists, for whom the West is a lived experience, explains Amy Chaloupka, curator at the Whatcom Museum, where the exhibition traveled last year. “It is imbued in who they are,” Chaloupka says. Some of the works provoke, others shock, and still more delight. But they are all, uniformly, present: Here is life laid bare. This is not a Wild West but a pulsating one.

One haunting example is Rick Bartow’s Buck. In the grand self-portrait, set against a yellow ochre ground, the artist is on the verge of collapse. His limbs appear tacked on, formless. His hands are out of place, one rendered in periwinkle blue, the other, ballerina pink. The forms seem to break away, even as they coalesce. Bartow, a Vietnam veteran and member of the Wiyot Tribe of Northern California, painted the canvas two years after his second stroke, explains Danielle Knapp, a curator at the University of Oregon’s Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art, where the show toured last fall. In the portrait, Bartow is seated in a wheelchair, but he wasn’t using one regularly when he painted the work. He is vulnerable, with intention.

That vulnerability runs through Barbara Earl Thomas’ Night Crawlers and Earth Worms. In the small linocut, three fishermen are poised before a rushing stream, set against a deep yellow ground giving way to creamy whites. Crouched, the fishers meld into the fluid scene, as if rocks in the marsh. Here, it seems, is a day like any other. Beyond the brush, in the deep, are people working tirelessly, wordlessly. The print calls to mind the work of 20th-century painter Jacob Lawrence, who taught Thomas, a Seattle-based visual artist, at the University of Washington. In Lawrence’s The Builders, completed in 1980 and on view midway through the show, laborers—their saws and wood planks cast in mustard yellows and bubble gum pinks—hammer away at a building taking shape, tools strewn about. The West exists, just behind the scaffold.

So, too, does it linger in Roger Shimomura’s American Infamy #2. The sweeping work presents Minidoka, an internment camp in Idaho where the Japanese American artist was incarcerated for two years in the early 1940s. The camp—peopled with a girl on a scooter, a woman in a coral suit and sage-green hat, and a group of men in cool grays—is obscured by heavy, navy-black clouds jutting across the frame. The effect is suffocating, as if the walls are closing in. For a minute, we, too, are trapped in this life lived apart—in the shadows, out of sight.

“It’s easy to start being preachy,” Shimomura told an interviewer in 2017. If you follow your first tendencies, what you end up with is “propaganda, not painting.” In American Infamy #2, viewers see Shimomura walking that line, offering fragments of life like whispers, never veering into protest.

If Shimomura gives us glimmers, the late Chinese-born American painter Hung Liu bathes us in light. In her oil Mandarin Ducks, a woman in a dress of wine-tinged beige is set against a muddied ground, flanked by ducks and powder-pink lilies. Dabs of black paint in the foreground give the work a tentative feel: In a moment, she might vanish. The woman pictured is Polly Bemis, who was sold by her parents in China, in the early 1870s, and smuggled to the United States, where she later escaped deportation, eventually running a saloon and boarding house in Warren, Idaho. Hers “could have been a life of subjugation,” says Melanie Fales, executive director and CEO of the Boise Art Museum, where the show opened in 2021. In Liu’s hands, it’s more complicated. Bemis here is elusive, as if seen through a curtain. What is she thinking? The question hangs in the stale air. Bemis gives nothing away.

Where “Many Wests” soars is when it gives room to these artists to tell their own stories, in works that marvel. There’s an air of empathy, love even, that runs through a show like this one, suggests Alisa McCusker, a senior curator at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts, where the show toured before arriving in Washington, D.C. This artwork, arrayed on jewel-toned walls, presents the West not as it could be but as it is: heartbreaking, gorgeous, real.

V. Maldonado’s The Fallen takes this a step further. The frenzied work of amorphous figures, overlaid with a dense web of psychedelic pinks, blood oranges and sky blues seems impenetrable. Keyed to shock, the abstracted canvas gestures to the multi-tonal masks of Mexican lucha libre wrestlers and the artist’s own double consciousness, ever aware of the gaze of others. The veiled forms come forward and recede, as if pangs of pain, swelling to the surface only to fall back again. Maldonado, a Portland, Oregon-based interdisciplinary artist who sets out to “make visible the invisible structures,” here triumphs, the work a reminder that art can still jolt us.

Alfredo Arreguín’s Bitterns is a subtle rejoinder. The luminous work, of two marsh birds soaring through iridescent skies, waves cresting in the dappled ground, is unlike any other in the show. Born in Morelia, Mexico, Arreguín grew up in Seattle and served in Korea. On a visit to Japan, he was introduced to the ukiyo-e, or woodblock prints, of the master artist Hokusai. The influences of the Japanese artist and Arreguín’s native Mexico come through in Bitterns, from the delicate plumage of the herons to the scalloped-edged brushwork and subtle gradations of light. Works like these require a keen eye, an ability to sit and observe until what’s before you comes to life. You don’t so much look at Bitterns as soar with it, winged, high above East and West.

Across the way, the show closes, as it opens, thunderously. Mounted on a deep emerald wall, a blazing oil from the late San Antonio artist Angel Rodríguez-Díaz, The Protagonist of an Endless Story, demands attention. In the towering work, Mexican American novelist Sandra Cisneros stands before a searing sky of impossible reds flecked with fiery yellows and deep maroons. In a velvety black dress, Cisneros is starling-like, her gown embellished with gold embroidery and robin’s-egg-blue and ruby pearls. Delicate as her dress is, Sandra is impassive. The strain in her face echoes the molten skies with an air of atonement, as if she’s saying, “You will pay for what you’ve done.”

It’s difficult to imagine that Cisneros was once fragile and racked with self-doubt. In the introduction to her 1984 novel, The House on Mango Street, she enumerates her anxieties as a young writer: walking home in the dark, falling in love and getting stuck, moving back home because she wasn’t “brave enough to live alone.” Perhaps it was her fears that ennobled her, forcing the novelist to look life in the eyes and write about what she saw. In her 1991 short story “Woman Hollering Creek,” a woman is trapped in a loveless marriage. In her 2002 novel, Caramelo, a family keeps secrets from each other, the truth tamped down until it swells to the surface. Cisneros holds nothing back. It’s that woman who looks back at us in Rodríguez-Díaz’s painting: a woman at the brink.

In The House on Mango Street, Cisneros introduces us to Sally, a girl who wears blue paint on her eyelids and whom the other kids call names. At the end of one chapter, the narrator conjures up a better world for Sally: “You could close your eyes and you wouldn’t have to worry what people said … nobody could make you sad and nobody would think you’re strange because you like to dream and dream.”

The artists in “Many Wests” are strange, deliberately so. They present themselves as vulnerable, opaque, a cacophony of annihilating blues and dizzying reds that rivet even as they beguile. They are a reminder that the West isn’t a single place, or even a place at all. It is a person, telling her story. It is a person who dreams and dreams.

“Many Wests: Artists Shape an American Idea” runs through January 14, 2024, at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington, D.C.

Detroit, the city once largely known for its automobile manufacturing, now takes on a vibrant new identity as a cultural nucleus. A canvas portraying a blend of music, history, paintings, and an impressive array of other artistic forms, Detroit is an irreplaceable part of America’s cultural DNA. A crucial factor driving this cultural renaissance is the emergence of artists amplifying Black culture, and among them, Detroit native Darius Baber stands tall, channeling the spirit of Motown through his breathtaking murals that bedeck Detroit’s East Riverfront.

Baber, a proud product of Detroit’s public education system and a graduate of Pershing High School, has made a name for himself with his vibrant and poignant depictions of Motown legends. His creative prowess showcases the power of local education, laying emphasis on the strength of roots and the profound impact of a city on an artist’s evolution.

Oftentimes, with artists, people are so enthralled in their artwork that they seem to think they have a sense of who the master is behind the piece. When asked the question, ‘who is Darius Baber?’ Baber responded, “I am Darius Baber, an artist who thrives on capturing the essence of life’s intricacies through my creations. With a background rooted in painting and a passion for exploring various forms of expression, I aim to unveil emotions and stories that resonate with others.”

His journey, from the classrooms of Pershing High School to the heart of Detroit’s art scene, is a testament to the city’s resilience and rich cultural heritage.

“The ignition of my creative genius was a multifaceted journey. While there wasn’t a single catalyst, a pivotal figure in this evolution was my high school art teacher and friend, Carol Morisseau,” Baber told the Michigan Chronicle. “Her unwavering encouragement and her own artistic dedication became my guiding light. Her influence ignited a spark within me to embrace my creativity fully.”

His most colored artwork, steeped in the legacy of Motown, serves as a vivid reminder of Detroit’s enduring spirit, its cultural tapestry, and the role it continues to play in shaping the future. Baber’s recent project serves as a larger-than-life tribute to the musical giants who once graced the stages of Motown, transforming the cityscape into a mesmerizing outdoor gallery.

Prominent figures like Diana Ross, Stevie Wonder, David Ruffin, Ron Isley, Gladys Knight, Tammi Terrell, and the Queen of Soul herself, Aretha Franklin, find a new lease of life in Baber’s vivacious portraits.

These art installations, commissioned by Bedrock in collaboration with Library Street Collective, are more than mere visuals. They are a testament to Detroit’s monumental contribution to music and are strategically placed to guide visitors and locals to the Aretha Franklin Amphitheatre. Each portrait captures the essence of these Motown greats, lighting up not just the surroundings but also the hearts of those who pass by.

Speaking of his work, Baber stated that including Aretha Franklin was an absolute necessity, given the proximity of his art pieces to the amphitheater bearing her name. His intention was to highlight the city’s rich musical heritage and its unrivaled contributions to the world of music.

“Collaborating closely with site designers and architects, I meticulously planned each Aretha Franklin painting,” said Baber. “Months of digital creation ensued, with multiple iterations to ensure each piece aligned perfectly with the installation’s dimensions.

Each piece, painted with careful precision, bursts with color, showing the legendary singers in their prime. The murals are also equipped to light up at night, illuminating the riverfront and serving as a beacon of culture, history, and art, making them a sight to behold as the city sinks into the twilight hours.

The transformation of Detroit’s cultural landscape signifies a remarkable shift, where art and history intertwine to narrate a compelling story of resilience, innovation, and rhythm.

Baber’s take on the dynamic form of art is one that is more of a personable process, “Art, to me, is the scientific exploration of creativity. It’s a realm where artistic and scientific methodologies merge to unveil the raw essence of emotions, thoughts, and experiences,” he shared. “I am drawn to the process of experimentation, learning from both successes and failures, while creating visual stories that resonate.”

However, this project is one of many masterpieces Baber has trailblazed. He notes that his most dynamic moment was a self-portrait, winning a notable award back in 2006. While Baber’s 2018 I Can’t Believe piece was his most sought-after.

“The first piece I truly connected with was a self-portrait that earned a gold key in the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards,” he said. “This recognition, fueled by Carol’s (high school art teacher) encouragement, pushed me beyond my doubts. My most sought-after work is a 30×30” oil painting titled I Can’t Believe. It captures a friend gazing out of a window and resonates with viewers, which has led to both original sales and numerous print requests.”

Detroit, through Baber’s eyes, is more than just a city. It’s an epicenter of culture where music, art, and history converge, reverberating with a rhythm that beats with every heartbeat of the city. A rhythm that is, undoubtedly, a melody of Motown, reminding us of the city’s vibrant past and its promising future.

“Through my work, I hope to evoke emotions and introspection. I aim to prompt viewers to pause and contemplate their own experiences, making personal connections to my art. Ultimately, I seek to spark conversations and inspire dialogue about the various facets of human existence.”

About Post Author

Ebony JJ Curry, Senior Reporter

Ebony JJ is a master journalist who has an extensive background in all areas of journalism with an emphasis on politics, community, and social justice. She serves as senior reporter and can be reached via email: ecurry@michronicle.com
Keep in touch via IG: @thatssoebony_

As a way to beautify the exterior of its newly-opened Made for Good shop, Kenmore Village Improvement Society (KVIS) has commissioned artist Cassandra Ott to paint a mural on the building’s facade.

The mural features a number of pollinators hidden amongst the plants. Passersby can count the exact number of pollinators, upon which time they can walk inside the shop to tell the attendant their calculated guess. Anyone that gets the number right will be handed some pollinator stickers!

It was back in June when KVIS first opened its retail store at 7 Warren Avenue in Kenmore (near the corner of Delaware Avenue), which specializes in handcrafted items. In order to open the grassroots business, KVIS took over a building that needed some sprucing up. The addition of this new mural goes a long way towards adding much-needed vibrancy to the building, and to the street. Aside from being pretty, the interactive mural is also a visual reminder of the importance of planting and nurturing native plants that help support bees, butterflies, and other pollinators, according to KVIS.

“We hope that this beautiful mural inspires everyone seeing it to actively join in helping daytime and nighttime pollinators to thrive,” said KVIS President, Melissa Foster. “Planting native plants, eliminating harmful chemical applications on lawns, and providing habitat for pollinators isn’t difficult to do but it can make such a positive difference in the health of our community and the planet.”

Muralist, Cassandra Ott said, “I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to create this sweet and colorful mural in Kenmore. The goal was to create a beautiful garden that could be enjoyed year round, and help spread the word about native plants and pollinators. I hope residents and visitors have fun finding the hidden pollinators, and enjoy this little slice of spring and summer year round for years to come.”

For more information on ways to help cherish our trees and save the bees and other pollinators, please visit www.savethebeeswny.com. The KVIS pollinator mural has been made possible with funding provided by the Office of the New York State Attorney General and the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation through the Tonawanda Community Environmental Benefits Program.

The Made for Good shop is an initiative of the Kenmore Village Improvement Society. The shop features locally handmade items that enable the Artists and Makers to do what they love and enables the KVIS to continue to serve the community. August hours are: Wednesday-Friday 3-7 pm, Saturday 10am-3 pm.