Monumental

At the entrance to Monuments of Solidarity, a solo exhibition by the photographer LaToya Ruby Frazier and curated by Roxana Marcoci.
An example of some text, in this case on a huge wall banner. ​
And a few of the monuments

In the United States, the Washington Monument was designed to inspire awe for the nation and the man. Completed in 1885, it was the first monument of significance in the United States. It is a phallic object that oozes patriarchal domination. It is a static object that is structurally rehabilitated, but its messaging has not changed since it was erected. It is a reminder of the national identity

LaToya Ruby Frazier’s exhibition Monuments of Solidarity at MoMA uses the premise of a monument’s function: to highlight an historical hero and the historical moment. She uses subjugated populations, specifically where big corporations are concerned. Her photographs of forgotten, pandemic-era essential workers, union members, family and abandoned factories and towns are riveting, and it was exciting to see such a large show of her work at MoMA last week.

“LaToya Ruby Frazier was born in Braddock in 1982. Growing up in her grandmother’s house in Braddock’s poorest neighborhood, known as the Bottom due to its low elevation and proximity to the steel mill and railroad, Frazier was an avid drawer and watercolorist. In high school, Frazier got a hold of a digital camera and began taking photographs of her friends, family, and neighborhood. At 16, Frazier went to Edinboro University in Pennsylvania, where she took classes with Kathe Kowalski, who fostered her interest in photography and introduced her to the work of photographers such as Julia Margaret Cameron and Carrie Mae Weems and writers such as James Baldwin and Roland Barthes.” (https://www.moma.org)

Frazier’s photographs are doing the work of art by stoking curiosity and raising essential questions. That being said, the exhibition felt as static as the monuments it was trying to emulate. The content in each of these displays is of tremendous value. Each of these people have been given an amplifier, but their stories are getting lost in the density of the displays.

We, as a global culture, present monuments of historical significance to highlight a moment in history, making the moment about one person who stood out. By highlighting one person, we lose the power of seeing the collective in action that generated that moment. Frazier highlighted many people fighting for their rights as union members, such as the UAW, and hospital workers. Each display showed a photograph and text about the person, but reading was the only way possible to interact with the monuments. People do not read that much in museums. In my museum studies classes I learned that people will read up to 150 words on a label, but anything beyond that risks getting lost. There are myriad ways the public visits museums, and gallery labels are just one of them. In place of didactic content, I have read poems, quotations, and lyrics printed on gallery labels and have interacted with touch objects. I’ve talked to guards and other gallery attendants about their perspectives of the artworks. And I have listened to audio that explains and adds to the visual content. These means of engagement scratch the surface of what is possible.

In my exhibition Reimagining Monuments, artists looked at monuments from varied media, from Alex Callendar’s painting to Zaq Landsberg’s disintegrating Christopher Columbus to The Cloth Book by Maureen McNeil, and the wall and video installation of Washington’s Next by Lyra Monteiro. The photographs show the brilliant puzzle Damien Davis made for his acrylic piece It Was all A Dream. It acknowledges the role of the media in creating violent hype around rivalries and battles regarding Black bodies, in this case the Notorious B. I. G. The folks at the Old Stone House had to dismantle the floor puzzle every Sunday, and I would help piece it back together on Fridays. This interaction brought me closer to the piece, and the public was welcomed to move the pieces around under supervision. Touch in a museum or gallery is a powerful experience for a visitor. Touch gave the visitors opportunities to notice the symbolism inlaid throughout the puzzle; for example, the symbol for power is prominent and white.

It Was all a Dream by Damien Davis, 2019
for Reimagining Monuments Old Stone House, Brooklyn, NY
This exhibition was imperfect in its overwhelming content: the walls were packed with art, and some gallery labels filled an 8 x 11 page. I am really proud of the way the exhibition explored history as dynamic and far more complex than the history one learns in a textbook and wondered how monuments might reflect these complexities. LaToya Ruby Frazier’s photographs are monumental. I wonder if they became static when they were mounted with such long labels, if the text distracted me from close observation of the photo. I felt both overwhelmed and guilty that I didn’t have the stamina or patience to read each display. The people featured are extraordinary and deserve their place in a museum. Their stories related to loss of healthcare, factories closing, access to clean water, unemployment, neglect, discrimination, racism, and corruption need to be learned and understood to keep the national identity from committing “erasure and historical amnesia”.
  • (Note there is no audio available at each monument. There may have been an audio guide available on request. But for those who do not know to ask for an audio guide, how are they included and able to participate?)

https://www.nps.gov/wamo/learn/historyculture/index.htm

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