Distinct Chatter from April 8 to May 20, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Fiona Yang

En Sonido is easily the most striking piece in Distinct Chatter. Created by Argentinian-American artist Mercedes, En Sonido — translating to Sound Loop — is a metal basin that sits in the back of the gallery. Printed on the floor of the basin is a picture and accompanying biography of Jaime Jose Colmenares Berrios, an artist and photographer who disappeared into the Rio de la Plata during Argentina’s infamous “death flights” in the 1970s. A thin sheen of water fills the basin. Viewers are encouraged to move a pair of hydrocontact microphones around the floor of the basin to “find the heartbeat of the image.” When the “heartbeat” is found, the basin vibrates, creating unexpectedly beautiful patterns in the water and sending tremors through the hands of the viewer.

With En Sonido, Mercedes invokes a brutal history: a period of state terror and political repression across South America called Operation Condor, during which hundreds of thousands of people were kidnapped, tortured, and killed. She is one in a long line of artists trying to contextualize and memorialize “the disappeared.” This tradition is brilliantly examined in the catalogue for the North Dakota Museum of Art’s exhibition Los Desaparecidos (The Disappeared), which appears in the gallery’s pop-up library next to En Sonido. In the book, curator Laurel Reuter draws comparisons within a collection of works from artists in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Uruguay, all centered around the disappeared. En Sonido must be analyzed within this context. Among the work of her peers, the thematic similarities in Mercedes’ piece are thrown into sharp relief.

In the introduction to the catalogue, Lawrence Weschler notes in particular the use of faces, especially those of the victims. He quotes the essay “The Face” by Jean-Paul Sartre: “A bit of the future has now entered the room: a mist of futurity surrounds the face: its future.” In contrast to Sartre’s future-centered interpretation of the face, he writes, “For time and again in this show, we are being confronted with a squandered and truncated gaze, a forward looking, future-tending gaze that has nevertheless been interrupted, cut short, cruelly severed… It becomes up to us to reach out, to gaze back, to fulfill and redeem that haunted gaze.” Indeed, many works in Los Desaparecidos feature faces — to memorialize a loved one, to overwhelm with the sheer number of victims, to provoke recognition.

En Sonido features a stark, large-scale, black-and-white photograph of Berrios that stares up at the viewer from the bottom of the basin, underneath the rippling water. His expression is inscrutable, allowing viewers to interpret as they wish: depending on who’s looking, he could be seeking recognition, acknowledgement, or justice. Literally interpreted, the symbolism becomes morbid. The viewer, in searching for the “heartbeat” of the image, essentially plunges their hands into the Rio de la Plata to find Berrios himself. A parallel can be drawn to the installation piece 30,000 by Nicolás Guagnini. The sculpture is a fragmented black-and-white photo of the artist’s father, which appears and disappears as the viewer moves around it. The viewer, with both pieces, bears the responsibility of searching for and bringing the victim back to life — visually with 30,000, and tactilely with En Sonido. In both pieces, the victim gazes back. 

Touch and tactility — brought to the forefront of the viewer’s awareness through the hydrocontact microphones and vibrations — also serves to ground viewers firmly in the present moment, in reality. As some viewers discover right away, placing the microphones on the right spot creates a loud, disruptive tremor. That jolt incentivizes viewers to slow down, move the microphones more slowly, and pay attention to smaller vibrations. Attention and care, in the context of this work’s history, are valuable currencies. In her artist statement, Mercedes writes, “The artist reflects on an ongoing violent, unacknowledged history that the post-memory generation must keep alive.” The greatest enemy for Mercedes, and indeed many of the artists in the Los Desaparecidos collection, is a lack of awareness, a lack of attention. Similarly, in Oscar Muñoz’s Aliento (Breath), the viewer must come close enough to breathe on a steel disc, engraved with the face of a dead person, for the face to become visible. Reuter writes, “The viewer’s breath brings life. Only through paying very close attention can one both see and know. Only then can the numbness be defeated.” 

The overall effect of En Sonido is haunting, almost ghostly. Even after the viewer puts down the microphones, the vibrations linger on. The water clings to their hands. It’s hard to forget Berrios’ piercing eyes. Mercedes has done the one thing she set out to achieve: keeping the memory of Berrios, and the disappeared, alive. As the water stills and history moves on, it falls to artists to make sense of what’s left behind, and as a result of Mercedes’ work — and countless others by her peers — we live with the dead in our public consciousness, at least for a little longer. 

Mercedes’ work is included in Distinct Chatter at the Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 8, 2022 to May 20, 2022.

Further Reading

Los Desaparecidos, edited by Laurel Reuter

Operation Condor (The Guardian) 

Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt from February 12th to March 28th at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Balbina Yang

Mental illness has always been stigmatized, considered by the general public as something to be ashamed about. Through the decades, however, mental illness has gradually become more accepted or, at least, more known. However, mental illness covers an even wider spectrum than just depression and anxiety. Through a variety of media such as embroidery and chiffon curtains, Leslie Holt’s Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art embraces the variety of mental illness itself. 

A common theme through the exhibition is Holt’s use of embroidery. Depression Stain (knotted) is exactly what the title suggests: various colored threads are knotted in order to show how depression appears in the brain. Most of the knots are shades of blue, but some of them are vibrant, such as the yellows and oranges. These brighter spots allow the viewers to understand that depression is not all gloom. Furthermore, the knots give the piece a visually stimulating appearance because it provides texture. This texture renders the work 3D, which is tantamount because it gives the piece an organic feel and thereby heightens it from a sterile image of a brain scan to a more human one. 

Another piece that utilizes embroidery is Bipolar Stain (steady). This piece is juxtaposed by acrylic paint of pinks and yellows. Unlike the previous artwork, however, Bipolar Stain (steady) isn’t knotted. In fact, in frontal view, the embroidery seems to be arbitrary marks stitched throughout the piece. From the back is a different story: these marks are actually the words “Steady.” This duality not only requires active participation from the viewers, but it also challenges the viewers on their perceptions of mental illness: superficially, mental illness may be indiscernible but through its depths, there is clarity. 

While embroidery is a motif in Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art, Holt also takes advantage of oil paint in order to portray her message. Anxiety Scrape is a small square of canvas that features a brain scan of greens, oranges, and blues against a backdrop of pink. Just like Depression Stain (knotted), this piece relies on texture. The paint isn’t smooth but rather streaked across the canvas. Although streaked, there is a kind of placidity apparent in the piece holistically. This technique seems to reflect the state of anxiety; that, although there may be blips, there is also a sense of order. 

Embroidery and painting aren’t the only media featured in this exhibition. Chiffon makes a special appearance through Holt’s chiffon curtains of the brain scans. This piece is wholly different from the others in that it acts as both an interior furnishing and a barrier from the outside world. Mental illness may be more acknowledged in this day and age, but it is still stigmatized. Sometimes, too, people with mental illness may just want to escape from reality and just reflect in the privacy of their own mind. These curtains surround the back nook in the gallery where visitors can come and lounge in the bean bags and just relax in peace. 

Holt embraces a variety of media to celebrate the wide spectrum of mental illness. She doesn’t shy away from combining these media in order to emphasize that mental illness is just as varied as the people who have them. Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art is not just a display of colorful brain scans; it celebrates – accepts – mental illness in a place that doesn’t always do so. 

Leslie Holt’s work is included in Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from February 12th to March 28th. 

For more information on Leslie Holt, visit https://www.leslieholt.net/

Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt from February 12th to March 28th at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Fiona Yang

A visitor came into the gallery last week and asked, after walking around the gallery, if I was the artist. I replied that I was not. The visitor looked briefly disappointed.

“Did you enjoy the show?” I asked.

He did, he said. What he particularly enjoyed were the pieces hanging in the center of the gallery (Depression Stain, ADHD Stain, and Bipolar Stain) that allowed the viewer to walk around the piece and view it from both sides. “I love how you can’t see the words from the front,” he said, “but then you walk to the back, and it’s like you can see what the brain is thinking.” 

Leslie Holt’s Neuro Blooms provides an unparalleled glimpse into the minds of those afflicted by mental illness through both the medium of art and neuroscience. Her work is meticulously researched and objective – viewers who come into the gallery are welcome to take a coloring book, which has information on most of the disorders Holt pictorializes. The actual subject of her art are PET scans, usually seen as clinical, cold, and objective. But she uses that clinical material to create emotional and subjective moments. On the backs of those center pieces, Holt has embroidered text that relates to the pictured disorder. For instance, on Depression Stain, Holt embroiders the word “glimmer” over and over again in bright thread, contrasting sharply against dark blue paint. When the visitor referred to being able to see what “the brain was thinking,” that was what he meant – the text becomes the thoughts of a person with depression. Being able to attribute that text to a mind, to a person, allows us to humanize the disorder.

That literal glimpse into the psyche is a unique experience in art. More often – usually subconsciously – viewers have to search for the mind behind the art. In one psychological experiment, a Harvard researcher showed a group of people pieces of art – some made by professional abstract artists, some by children, and some by animals. People were asked which ones were made by professional artists, and were able to consistently pick out those made by artists. When asked to explain their choices, they said it was “more planned out” and “more intentional.” When looking at art, even unintentionally, we are looking for evidence of thought and substance behind the piece. 

Holt creates a unique psychological perspective for each of the center pieces by weaving text into the sketches of brains. Viewers are confronted with the reality and psychology of those with these disorders. ADHD Stain, for instance, has the word “focus” embroidered over and over around the sketch. Several of the words are unfinished, running into a tangle of thread at the border of the brain. The unfinished text echoes the effects of ADHD – an inability to finish or follow through on projects, and an inability to focus. In addition, the word “focus” over and over sounds like a thought an ADHD person may have. In this way, Holt allows us to attribute thoughts to those with the disorder – to get a glimpse into their psyche. 

When that visitor came to Neuro Blooms and viewed the art, getting an insight to an unfamiliar mind, his first instinct was to ask whether I was the artist – as if to get a look at the person whose mind the work was a window into. The viewers’ ability to empathize through art is especially important for the purpose of this show. Mental illnesses such as depression, ADHD, and bipolar disorder still face serious stigma in today’s society. What is most important is being able to empathize, reach out, and be kind to those who face these conditions. The first step to that is letting ourselves see from their perspective. Holt’s show does just that.

Leslie Holt’s work is included in Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from February 12th to March 28th. 

For more information on Leslie Holt, visit https://www.leslieholt.net/

Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt from February 12th to March 28th at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Erin Allen

The Stamp Gallery’s newest exhibition, Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt, takes a unique approach to combating the stigma associated with having and treating mental illness. Through her “Brain Stain” series, local artist Leslie Holt combines clinical PET scans with experience-based representations of what different mental health conditions look and feel like. Showing the intersection between the cold, often impersonal depictions of mental health seen in medical settings and the individual, emotional accounts of what living with a mental illness is like, Holt brings a sense of nuance and humanity to a topic that is often stigmatized and silenced. Through a variety of colorful wall pieces and sculptural paintings, the gallery becomes an engaging place to discuss the meaning (both literal and emotional) of these mixed media works. In addition, Holt continues to expand the conversation by creating a safe space for visitors to share their own experiences with mental illness, or to lend a thoughtful piece of advice or motivation to those struggling with their own mental health.

While perusing the mixed media “Brain Stains” positioned throughout the space, you may stumble upon a note stuck to the wall that reads, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Walk a little further into the space and you’ll see another that says, “Spring is coming. The sun is coming. It will be warm again.” Written on specially designed Neuro Blooms sticky notes, these short quotes and sayings have been left in the gallery by visitors wanting to leave their own mark on the space and support those who come after them. 

Holt further encourages visitors to engage with the exhibition through her inclusion of a reflection area in the back of the gallery. Shrouded by curtains adorned with their own Neuro Blooms, this space provides a quiet corner where people can journal, draw, and color while reflecting on their own mental state or their experiences in relation to mental health. Provided with reflection journals and coloring sheets depicting brains experiencing illnesses ranging from depression to ADHD to schizophrenia, this space serves to educate visitors and remind them to care for their own mental well-being. The next time you stop by the gallery, take time to reflect upon the meanings of the various colors and forms present in the Neuro Blooms, and feel free to add your own voice to the conversation.

Leslie Holt’s work is included in Neuro Blooms: Mixed Media Art by Leslie Holt at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from February 12th to March 28th. 

For more information on Leslie Holt, visit https://www.leslieholt.net/

Still Here: Art on HIV/AIDS from October 29th to December 7th at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Fiona Yang

The AIDS Quilt is a poignant, heart-wrenching piece of art that serves as a reminder of the impact of the AIDS crisis. Conceptualized by activist Cleve Jones, the quilt had its humble beginnings in June 1987. Jones asked permission for the first five panels of the quilt to be hung from the mayor’s balcony on Gay Freedom Day in San Francisco. After that, people began donating panels. A quilt of 1,920 panels was unfolded at the National March for Gay and Lesbian Rights in October 1987. The quilt being displayed in such a public space inspired many more to donate; the quilt now consists of over 49,000 panels. It also raised a quarter of a million dollars for AIDS organizations around the country. 

As a piece of art, the Quilt symbolizes many things. It represents an item of comfort, for example. Jones wrote in his book that it reminded him of grandmothers, generations of women sewing something “beautiful, useful, and warm.” It represents healing; Jones hoped that the making of quilt squares could be therapeutic for the LGBT+ community, which had been traumatized by years of death. Most importantly, Jones wanted the Quilt to represent the humanity of those who had died from AIDS. He wanted to “humanize the statistics,” to make it apparent that those who had died livedvibrant lives and were grieved.

Jones hoped that by humanizing victims of AIDS, the media would be able to use it as a tool to better advocate for the AIDS crisis, and the Quilt was very effective to this end. The Quilt was just one of many pieces of protest art during this time that were utilized in the same way. During the 1980s, at the worst of the AIDS crisis, LGBT+ activism was on the rise in response to a governmental inaction. The most prominent on the activist scene was ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power). Chapters of ACT UP staged protests outside the FDA, the CDC, and on Wall Street. Their protests actively changed the medical landscape; research on a cure moved along much faster with momentum from ACT UP. 

Along with the organization’s powerful message were powerful visuals. For instance, one famous poster simply reads “Silence = Death.” The slogan is iconic now; the quote even features in Antonius Tin-Bui’s “Not Sorry for the Trouble” paper cut pieces here in Stamp Gallery. “Silence = Death” is referring to the lack of action by the administration, along with public health institutions, to address the AIDS crisis. The slogan does not mince words; it links the silence of the reader and governmental institutions directly to the many deaths attributed to AIDS. It speaks to a feeling of deep anger, frustration, and hopelessness in the LGBT+ community. In this way, it is a deeply emotional piece, much like the AIDS Quilt. 

However, it was meant to be more than just a gesture of grief. Avram Finkelstein, the creator of the poster, posits the slogan and iconography of “Silence = Death” as urging direct political action. He writes in a post for the New York Public Library, “In order to ‘sell’ activism in an apolitical moment, the poster… needed to be advertising. So the poster was strategically wheat pasted alongside commercial posters by professionals. We chose this context to signal an “authorized voice,” and to hint at resources and a level of political organizing which were non-existent. The font was graphically on trend. The black background carved its own space in the urban clutter of commercial advertising.” The tag line was picked up by ACT UP and made its way into the public sphere, where it has since defined a generation of LGBT+ activism. 

The art surrounding the AIDS crisis has been deeply poignant and meaningful for victims of the crisis, as well as members of the general public. But these pieces serve as more than just an emotional outlet. They are calls to action. In this way, these pieces of art attain true iconographic status. 

The AIDS Quilt is included in Still Here: Art on HIV/AIDS at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from October 29th to December 7th, 2019. 

For more information on the AIDS Quilt, visit https://aidsmemorial.org/theaidsquilt/.

Further reading:

Cleve Jones on the AIDS Quilt: https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/how-one-mans-idea-for-the-aids-quilt-made-the-country-pay-attention/2016/10/07/15917576-899c-11e6-b24f-a7f89eb68887_story.html

Avram Finkelstein on “Silence = Death”: https://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/11/22/silence-equals-death-poster

Still Here: Art on HIV/AIDS  from October 29th to December 7th, 2019 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Gabrielle O’Brien

In the current exhibit, “Still Here: Art on HIV/AIDS”, the Stamp Gallery is lucky enough to feature panels of the AIDS Memorial Quilt. Currently comprising over 50,000 panels and weighing 54 tons, the AIDS Memorial Quilt is the largest ongoing community folk art project in the world. The Quilt began in 1987 in San Francisco during the height of the AIDS epidemic as a way to remember and honor loved ones who died from the disease.

Since then, thousands of panels from around the world have been added to The Quilt by family members, partners, and friends, each one a unique and personal memorial to someone who lost their life to AIDS. The Quilt brings humanity to the AIDS epidemic, a crisis that is often clouded by stigma and impersonalized with science. The panels featured in the Gallery include panels for those who lived local to College Park, including some UMD alumni. Each panel is distinctive with some integrating photographs, others including articles of clothing, and many with handwritten messages.

Yet the love and the pain and injustice of loss is obvious throughout all panels. This not only makes the crisis feel all the more real, but also highlights the universality of the AIDS epidemic. Having panels of The Quilt here for the first time in 30 years emphasizes the fact that AIDS still constitutes a crisis today and is not a thing of the past. In fact, 770,000 people died from AIDS-related illness worldwide and 37.9 million people were living with HIV in 2018. In an age where scientific knowledge expands each day and biomedicine advances at a rapid rate, it is unacceptable that we are allowing so many lives to be taken by a potentially curable and treatable disease. This is where the AIDS Memorial Quilt may serve its most important purpose—to remind the world of the souls behind the numbers and motivate those with power to finally bring an end to the crisis.

The AIDS Memorial Quilt is included in Still Here: Art on HIV/AIDS at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from October 29th to December 7th, 2019.