#reflectionsonaction

Yolanda López’s “Women’s Work Is Never Done” is a layered meditation on labor and power. At right, migrant women workers wear bandanas to protect against pesticides; at left, Chicana labor activist Dolores Huerta calls for solidarity during the 1965 grape workers’ strike and national boycott for healthcare and wage minimums. The title plays on the idiom describing a woman’s continual work, as they are typically the caretakers of home and family, often in addition to their occupational labor. López collectivizes the phrase, in solidarity with all women workers, pointing to their multiple roles at work, in the home, and as advocates for change. 

This fall, we're taking a look at how artists in the Brooklyn Museum collection have promoted civic engagement through their work.

This fall, we’re taking a look at how artists in the Brooklyn Museum collection have promoted civic engagement through their work.

In 1968, artist Wadsworth Jarrell co-founded COBRA (Coalition of Black Revolutionary Artists) with his spouse, fashion designer Jae Jarrell, and artists Barbara Jones-Hogu, Jeff Donaldson, and Gerald Williams. Not only did women play central roles in the prominent Black Arts Movement collective—which would later be renamed AfriCOBRA (African Commune of Bad Relevant Artists)—but they were also iconic leaders in the Black Power Movement.

Revolutionary (Angela Davis) depicts the radical activist and revolutionary intellectual, Angela Davis, who, when this was painted, was fighting for her freedom from wrongful imprisonment. The portrait illustrates the intensity and power of Davis’ activism as Wadsworth Jarrell utilizes her words, slogans from the Black Power movement, and AfriCOBRA's signature aesthetic––self-described as "Kool-Aid colors."

The year 1971 was significant for both Jarell and Davis. As Jarrell completed this vibrant artwork, Angela Davis wrote her truth-uncovering piece, "Reflections on the Black Woman's Role in the Community of Slaves." In this piece, Davis “illuminates the historical matrix of Black women's oppression" as enslaved Black Women were expected "to promote the consciousness and practice of resistance" (1971:84) while also "ministering to the needs of [all] men and children around her" (1971:87).

The core of Davis’ words remain true today, as highlighted in entertainer and philanthropist Megan Thee Stallion’s October 2020 piece in the New York Times. Megan discusses society's negligence in acknowledging the labor of Black women throughout American history, echoing Davis’ thoughts on the political expectations and lack of care for Black Women in America, she states, “In the weeks leading up to the [2020] election, Black women are expected once again to deliver victory for Democratic candidates … [Black Women] march for everyone else, riot for everyone else, die for everyone else, love for everyone else, but when it comes down to her, there ain’t a [person] in sight.” (New York Times: 2020)   

Wadsworth Jarrell’s "Revolutionary (Angela Davis)" serves as an example of how art can be used to acknowledge and celebrate the often overlooked social and political contributions of Black women. 

Fifty years later, Angela Yvonne Davis continues to be a leader in the fight for global intersectional justice. 

This fall, we’re taking a look at how artists in the Brooklyn Museum collection have promoted civic engagement through their work.

The subjects of Whitfield Lovell’s hand-drawn portraits are anonymous: their names have been lost but their images are preserved in an archive of historic studio photographs, which serves as Lovell’s inspiration. He includes a found object paired with each portrait—in this work, a vintage playing card—as if personalizing the image or attaching a memento. Bringing individual faces out of the archive is a reminder that just because there is no record of a person’s name doesn’t mean they lived less of a life. In a year of critical record keeping, with the US census coming to a close, it is important to consider how we as individuals get recorded and what that record represents.

This fall, we’re taking a look at how artists in the Brooklyn Museum collection have promoted civic engagement through their work.

Can you identify each New York City borough in these historic images? Taken in the late 1800s, these photographs show the city at a time when the population was under 3 million—today, Brooklyn alone counts over 2.5 million. More than one third of New Yorkers were foreign-born in 1900, a statistic that is almost the same today (although in Queens it's closer to 50%). No matter where you were born, or which borough you now call home, everyone currently living in New York should complete the 2020 census. The new deadline for responses is October 5th. Currently, the borough with the highest self-response rate is: Staten Island! It's not too late to catch up, let's make Brooklyn count!

This fall, we’re taking a look at how artists in the Brooklyn Museum collection have promoted civic engagement through their work.

Inspired by current events in 18th-century British politics, William Hogarth created a series of prints satirizing the spectacle of election campaigns. Set in the fictional country town of ‘Guzzledown,’ Hogarth depicts four stages of an election, each of which is filled with acts of bribery, mayhem, wastefulness, corruption, and deceit; in short, a catalogue of behaviors and traits associated with winning by any means and at all costs. While we may not recognize all the specific references from the period, Hogarth’s witty and scathing take on the craziness that can surround the democratic process is still relatable today. 

This fall, we're taking a look at how artists in the Brooklyn Museum collection have promoted civic engagement through their work.

Can design be democratic? The Bauhaus school was founded in Germany in 1919 with the belief that everyday objects could be agents of change. The issues of that time are not unfamiliar today: an international pandemic, economic crises, lack of affordable housing, political alienation, the devastation of war. Teachers and students at the Bauhaus, met these challenges with a determination to use modern technology and the study of art to increase living standards as Germany recovered following WWI. These ideals are embedded in objects like this chair, which uses common materials and a simple design that is easy to mass produce in order to be as accessible as possible. However, in 1932, the Nazi-led government decided the ideals of the Bauhaus were contrary to those of the state, and police closed the school. Many of its teachers came to the U.S. as refugees, bringing the aspirations of the Bauhaus with them and transforming American art and design.