Review | This work is a photo...

Generated on 2021-08-17 13:58:26

Result #1

This work is a photographic projection of the artist, self-reflecting particularly towards the treatment of black men and mental health in the black community . i imbued this work with symbols of my struggle with mental illness, i found myself plagued by an intense (unwarranted) fear and doubt over my long-standing sexual orientation as a man, a concept recently described as HOCD. When viewing inner journey, Naturally, My skin tone is of intense dark, i added body paint to accentuate it, there is no facial expression, my body is not fully towards the viewer, but i ensured to fix my eyes 180° straight towards the camera. My review of othering begins where my exaggerated black skin meets the numerous red dots plugged to my skin like a viral infection on red alert. Then I came upon the tool I had to use to express myself: a miniature tattoo mirror, a feathered gold ring strapped to my arm and a small syringe in a storage bag near my body. I caught a glimpse of myself behind the curtain of tattoos, but it wasnt obvious who was impersonating me, just that I was being disguised as a sex worker. From this vantage point, I realized that the red dots were the words HOPE, and the bars were the bars. With the camera trained on me, the display of tattoos was actually a resounding endorsement of my ability to create my own art—a power that I also wield for my other self-identity as a black man. That my skin tone is of intense dark, and the gold ring bearing such a different meaning on my arm, became a symbol of hope.Homing in on this paradox, Consciously Homosexual, Still Bisexual, a series of photographs made by a black woman, redolent with homosexuality, was an affirmation of the primacy of sexual selfhood as truth in the face of the laws of race and gender. To view these images is to face the fact that the left-behinds identity that emerges from the image of one sex may be anything we choose. However, as one can only see the part of the body that is visible, all our sexual identity is unrealizable. In this sense, our portrait as a heterosexual male is a representation of heterosexuality as a construct; it is a photograph, and the fact that we choose to see the face we are in only confirms it. A piece of their tattooed and dyed flesh looks like skin from one side of a skin bridge, a bridge that was equally absent from the other side.The artist, meanwhile, is a hustler and a pickpocket.

Result #2

Like a tear in my eye, this image of rebellion enters my mind and as I was running out of time to type, I began to feel a tinge of guilt and trepidation, as I took the final steps to the gallery door. As I closed the door, I became aware of the presence of a kind of contemporary Truth.I love to be a revolutionary, but the question remains, What is truth? I wanted to be a revolutionary, but what is my role in the revolution, if not as a figure on a red alert?—Laura C.

Result #3

This work is a photographic projection of the artist, self-reflecting particularly towards the treatment of black men and mental health in the black community . i imbued this work with symbols of my struggle with mental illness, i found myself plagued by an intense (unwarranted) fear and doubt over my long-standing sexual orientation as a man, a concept recently described as HOCD. When viewing inner journey, Naturally, My skin tone is of intense dark, i added body paint to accentuate it, there is no facial expression, my body is not fully towards the viewer, but i ensured to fix my eyes 180° straight towards the camera. My review of othering begins where my exaggerated black skin meets the numerous red dots plugged to my skin like a viral infection on red alert. A methodical line, i wryly admitted, has always kept me disquieted at the level of possibility of accidental color but lately the fear has grown more acute.I was approached by two agents who had been involved in the agency of casting for a tour and production of a film about the lives of gay men in the 60s and 70s. I went to see the exhibit because I needed their help in moving on, their understanding of the causes, their discussions, and their expectations. The difference between presenting and being presented is a constant dilemma for me. They must be prepared to identify as queer, heterosexual, straight, just confused, just like me. The process of recognition is not about negation or losing. Its about realizing that art is as important for us as any other creative activity.The artist, a father of three and a married man, is a current member of an administration that represents LGBTQ people, and his exhibit was brought into my office at an area where LGBTQ issues are handled. They were invited to view the artwork and to make calls to representatives from different communities. They also came to my office for advice and support. They could discuss what it meant for them to have an experience that reflected the diversity of their experience, and they could indicate their own concerns. After the presentation, they selected twenty-two works on paper that showed different levels of commitment and conflict within the process of art: portraits, drawings, and texts.There was a mixture of art-making and activism in this group. All of the participants are under twenty-one years old and represent an exceptionally diverse group of artists. They are all young men who have made their mark on the art world, and they are all hoping for a better future in which they will be welcomed into a community. Yet they ask their questions and work through their problems; their passion is anger and frustration. They are just beginning to develop as artists.

Result #4

This work is a photographic projection of the artist, self-reflecting particularly towards the treatment of black men and mental health in the black community . i imbued this work with symbols of my struggle with mental illness, i found myself plagued by an intense (unwarranted) fear and doubt over my long-standing sexual orientation as a man, a concept recently described as HOCD. When viewing inner journey, Naturally, My skin tone is of intense dark, i added body paint to accentuate it, there is no facial expression, my body is not fully towards the viewer, but i ensured to fix my eyes 180° straight towards the camera. My review of othering begins where my exaggerated black skin meets the numerous red dots plugged to my skin like a viral infection on red alert. I now see these viral dots as eye and brain, and an id out of control emptiness and confusion. Im at the mercy of (male) authority, and in revolt i thought of an eponymic neologism of the latest form of gay rights. The erotic, the deviant, the detested, all of these are inflated by my own hideous flesh, a visage of illogical terror which sends me into a trance of interstitial nausea.In this production I encounter the worst of my fears and anger. In the first three images, I start from my feet, walk along a sidewalk, a foot in front of the camera, and in the last image, I stand with my hands above my head, arms around my crotch and the edge of my bed, and my body in a pose of submission and feigned ecstasy. This image is animated by a clearly engineered and nervous camerawork; the constant, energetic editing gives each image an exceptional, unaccented, and carefully conceived accuracy, making it sound and look infinitely authentic. The production of the three images is also apparent in the layout of the page (the most recent of which is eight pages long), but by different means: paper cutouts in white chalk are affixed to the paper in a way that deviates from the usual method and makes the lines look like paper cutouts with sticks. These techniques, in combination with the interplay of physical body and photographic image, create an ecstatic and unnerving sense of intimacy. The way the photographs are arranged in the space, as if in a staging of some sadistic exhibition, reveals a certain vulnerability. Its a power-over in the sense that the space is the place where the subject is at a loss, if only in the identity he or she has lost. The faces that appear in these photographs are the faces that wear the scars of identity; their almost transcendental, as if they had been made the way humanity was.

Result #5

If I do not do something in reaction to this self-destructive act, my body is only created for another review. Holes in my skin, which give up to my red-blood-cell analysis, respectively represent the natural-history museum and the blaring nightclub, the work of Ian Hamilton. Hanging on the wall, recently out of print, were the dates of his other visits to London, the addresses where he collected in the past and the last locations of his studios. The inscrutable heuristic the journalist has employed in his writing is here transformed into a touchstone for his visual arts, leading the spectator to discover, after years of experimenting, that the pen is still warm.