Seeing Differently

Malissia Pettway, “Housetop”, (c. 1960), Cotton synthetics, corduroy, 81 x 81 in., Museum purchase, and gift of the Souls Grown Deep Foundation from the William S. Arnett Collection, 2019

Simone Leigh, No Face (Crown Heights) (2018), Terracotta, graphite ink, salt-fired porcelain, epoxy, 20 x 8 x 8 in., The Phillips Collection, Director’s Discretionary Fund, 2018

Leo Villareal, Scramble (2011), Light-emitting diodes, Mac mini, custom software, circuitry, wood, Plexiglas 60 x 60 in., The Phillips Collection, The Dreier Fund for Acquisitions, 2012

Janet Taylor Pickett, And She was Born (2017), Acrylic on canvas with collage, 30 x 30 in., The Phillips Collection, Dreier Fund for Acquisitions, 2020

Pierre Bonnard, The Open Window (1921), Oil on canvas, 46 1/2 x 37 3/4 in., The Phillips Collection, Acquired 1930

Sam Gilliam, Purple Antelope Space Squeeze (1987), Diptych: Relief, etching, aquatint and collagraph on handmade paper with embossing, hand-painting and painted collage, 41 1/2 in x 81 5/8 in., The Phillips Collection, Bequest of Marion F. and Norman W. Goldin, 2017

Kara Harley, Senior, University of Maryland, Studio Art Major

Melancholic Memory

Think of the last time you had a moment to yourself. Maybe it was when you brushed your teeth this morning, drank your coffee, or even while reading this label right now. Notice the airy feeling you have when only focusing on one thing, your thoughts. Pay attention to how at ease your mind feels while simply reading. Breathing. Being present. Your consciousness disregarding all sense of reality, allowing yourself to emerge into your current state of mind.

William Christenberry’s Bloody Pond, Shiloh Battlefield, Tennessee evokes this emotion for me. Viewing this print brings a sense of familiarity, as if you have been to this pond before. The overall haziness makes you want to sit by yourself and feel this exact emotion. Embrace this bittersweet moment before it becomes a melancholic dream. Think of this moment and breathe.

Listen to the trees. They are always whispering.

E. Ethelbert Miller, Poet

We flip a switch and the lights go on. We thank Thomas Edison for this holy invention which permitted man to capture a sliver of sun for his own personal use. Edison was a baseball fan. His genius helped to establish the tradition of night baseball on May 24, 1935, at Crosley Field in Cincinnati, Ohio.

In Night Baseball, our attention is not simply drawn to the two towers of light but also to the grandstand of fans watching the game. What is a baseball game without fans? In 2020 we sadly had to witness the absence of cheering and the joy of a child catching a ball or asking for an autograph. But before the pandemic, the night baseball game allowed working Americans the opportunity to attend a baseball game. Phillips captures this beautiful moment as the pitcher prepares to throw a ball. You can hear voices reaching up to touch the night sky. The baseball stars playing below.

Taylor Ricketts, Junior, University of Maryland, Art History and Archeology Major

How Do You Connect to an Artist?

Zilia Sánchez is a Puerto Rico-based Cuban artist living in San Juan. A feminist pioneer of contemporary art, she is known for her depictions of the female form, the female protagonists of Greek mythology, and sensual shapes and lines, to name a few. As a young woman just beginning my journey in art, I am particularly inspired by Sánchez because she creates beautifully minimal pieces that aren’t inherently feminine, but can still evoke a feeling of strength and empowerment among women like myself. She also creates stunning depictions of the women of mythology that we are taught to dislike, in a way that captures their strength as women, and not in spite of it.

Shonnita Johnson, Dance, Grades 9-12, Laurel High School

He’s the man of the hour, during a time when feelings were worn on faces. He’s unplugged and in control. Nothing will slip by the man of the hour. All of his dealings are handled at face value. Aligned with time, the man of the hour has seen it all. Never missing a beat because this clock connects to his feet. The man of the hour is always on time.

Dorit Yaron, Deputy Director, David C. Driskell Center for the Visual Arts and Culture of African Americans and the African Diaspora, University of Maryland, Centennial Community Advisory Group Member

I immediately noticed the movement created by the artist’s beautiful and expressive brush strokes. The two children seem to be moving toward or running away from something. The composition conveys gloominess and a sense of urgency.

Chaim Soutine painted this work around 1939, on the eve of one of the most devastating world events of the 20th century. After the Germans invaded France in 1940, Soutine, who was a Jewish artist living in France, had to live in hidden locations. I kept thinking of my parents, who, in 1939, at age 11, fled to France from Germany, and like Soutine, stayed hidden to escape the Gestapo.

Many of us take the experience of going to school for granted. This painting reminds me that some children cannot experience schooling during trying times, such as wartime or the covid-19 pandemic lockdown.

Marjorie Bryant, 2020-21 Sherman Fairchild Fellow, Training, Learning, and Development, The Phillips Collection

When I look at this artwork, I immediately think of Trayvon Martin. I think about how so many Black men are accosted and profiled just for having a hood on. I think about how having a hoodie on turns them into a threat. I look at this simple image and can’t help but think, how can an article of clothing be so controversial?              

When I look at this artwork, I see fashion. I think about how the hoodie is seen as a staple in many wardrobes. I think about streetwear and Black culture. I think about warmth and comfort. I looked into John Edmonds’s other works, and he is Black culture. His images represent things that are so basic to us but a threat to others. Without seeing a face or any skin, I know these images are meant to represent the Black identity. I think that is special.

Sam Blum, Senior, University of Maryland, English Major

A Glimpse Beneath the Cloak

In this piece, we see two twins, sharing secrets. In the culture of the Lower Congo, twins are considered sacred. They are thought to be a single entity in two bodies, capable of communicating with the spirits of ancestors. Aimé Mpane shrouds these twins beneath a mysterious cloak to disguise them as one. Using a traditional adze, he hacks away at this cloak, carving and gouging the plywood on which it is painted, revealing a woman whispering in the ear of her second half. Even as their veil is violently cut away, the twins do not reveal their faces. One turns away, shielding her secrets with her hand, and the other remains cloaked. By leaving the left twin beneath the shroud, Mpane invites his viewers to question whether the right twin is whispering to her sibling, to her ancestors, or to herself.