alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms from February 10, 2022 to April 6, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Mollie Goldman

A key work in the Stamp Gallery’s current exhibit alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms is Sin Sol / No Sun by micha cárdenas. This is an augmented reality video game that immerses players in a world marked by more advanced effects of climate change. In her description of the game, cárdenas highlights her intention of illustrating “how climate change disproportionately affects immigrants, trans people and disabled people.” 

While artwork often tells a story, Sin Sol / No Sun actually takes players through a ten-part poetic storyline fifty years in the future. By navigating a complex virtual space via the downloadable Sin Sol / No Sun app or an in-gallery tablet, participants experience a new world through the perspective of Aura, the game’s holographic, trans, and Latina protagonist. Aura and her dog, Roja, embark on an interspecies quest to escape climate change-induced wildfires in an environment created from 3D scans of a modern-day Pacific Northwestern forest. The pair flee the wildfires together and, in their pursuit of survival, they come across oxygen capsules that contain poetic fragments of their story. With this knowledge, viewers can experience the progression of environmental collapse and connect the unfolding events with the information shared in the capsules.

“It is so good to see you.

To know my words made it through time

To reach another heart, unthawed

Still a smoldering ember.”

In this piece, technology allows for the coalescence of visual art, storytelling, poetry, sound, and activism. Sin Sol / No Sun embodies the concept of “futurisms” within alternate universe both through the exploration of an impending catastrophe and also through the use of artificial intelligence technology to produce a magnificent, interactive world for viewers. Sin Sol allows viewers to look through their phone screens and see their own world with added virtual elements. These additions encourage movement and exploration through a physical space in order to piece together a story and begin a quest to survive. 

Part of the app’s major appeal is the integration of participatory exploration into the narrative. Viewers experience the story as it unfolds and actively search for oxygen capsules with Aura and Roja. In this way, the audience partakes in the protagonist’s efforts to survive, which further intensifies the story.

Sin Sol / No Sun is a beautiful and immersive experience that educates viewers about the future of climate change, but it is also part of the future of art itself. Modern technological advances like this app enable viewers to do more than look; they encourage viewers to act. Through technology, cárdenas is able to convey her message and educate viewers with a much stronger impact. 

micha cárdenas’ work is included in Alternate Universe: Visualizing Queer Futurisms at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from February 10, 2022 to April 6, 2022. 

Download Sin Sol from the App Store.
For more information on Alternate Universe: Visualizing Queer Futurisms and related events, visit https://thestamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery

Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes & Plums from October 25, 2021 to December 11, 2021 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Helen Feng

There are many striking and remarkable characteristics of the artwork in this new exhibition, Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes & Plums. This show celebrates the bush tucker of First Nations Australia with works created by contemporary indigenous Australian artists. Anyone that walks by the gallery sees that these pieces are huge attention-grabbers, with their millions of dots and dashes and the patterns and textures made of the paint. What stood out the most to me was the outstanding and vibrant array of colors. None of the pieces were dull at all, many created with blends of reds, yellows, and purples. There were even pieces that included every color in the rainbow.

This show feels like a big celebration, and the colors contribute to this feeling. With so many golden tones, the painting emitted a sort of light, and brightness to the gallery, drawing people in to appreciate the work. As a viewer, these pieces give me a sense of welcoming and of uplifting hope. The prosperous colors highlight the bountifulness and prosperity in life, urging the viewer to appreciate and remember everything they have around them.

For more information on Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes & Plums and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery

New Arrivals 2021 from August 30 to October 16, 2021 at the STAMP Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | written by Fiona Yang

Akea Brionne Brown’s All American Boys is a part of her series “A Brown Millennial” (2020), an exploration of “what it means to exist as a young, black, American woman in a time where everything feels uncertain.” The rest of the series focuses on Brown’s experiences with white American femininity; All American Boys stands out as the single piece that deals with masculinity. 

In All American Boys, Brown drapes herself in mass-produced cloth, patterned with stereotypical images of cowboys. The mass-production of those images parallels the commodification of the “Wild West” narrative. President Theodore Roosevelt and contemporary figures such as James Cox and Joseph McCoy played a large part in romanticizing the role of cowboys on the frontier, leading to the enormous popularity of Wild West shows and rodeos, Western films, and the enduring concept of the “Wild West” in TV shows, novels, comics, and video games. 

Westerns—recognized to be the most popular Hollywood film genre from the 1900s to the 1960s—descend narratively from “knight-errants” of European literature and poetry. Knight-errants, much like the gunslingers of Westerns, are lone male figures, bound by chivalry and codes of honor, exacting their personal conceptions of justice and fairness. Both are also inherently masculine genres. The men of Westerns are “real men”—stoic, charismatic with women, occasionally violent, secure in their masculinity. 

All American Boys takes these tenets of Western masculinity and raises them to absurd heights. There’s barely any “cowboy” upon close examination—just white men, adorned with wide-brimmed hats, bootcut jeans, and other accoutrements. If Westerns serve to affirm masculinity, the cowboy in All American Boys parodies it. Conventionally attractive white men, shirtless, posed to show off their chiseled bodies—rather than emphasizing their masculinity, this portrayal undercuts it by posing the men for a titillating female audience. Even the name evokes a sense of sarcasm—“All American Boys,” instead of “All American Men,” derides this uniquely American conception of masculinity. Westerns are a power fantasy. Conversely, the cowboys on the cloth are objects of desire, stripping them of agency and interiority. 

The cowboys’ objectification is heightened by Brown’s self-portrait, which stands in stark contrast to the bare-chested men. The cloth is wrapped over the majority of her figure, implying feminine modesty. Her lips are glossed, and the only glimpse the viewer gets of her collarbone and shoulder implies that she is shirtless. These aspects lend coy sexuality and vulnerability to the portrait. Despite this, Brown stares directly at the viewer, challenging them to confront the implications of her surrounding background. She inserts herself directly into a parody of whiteness and masculinity, undeniably real and defiant. As a Black woman, she serves as a reminder of historical context, grounding these images firmly in reality. 

The genre of Westerns are inextricably linked to whiteness. Protagonists in Westerns perform violent, extrajudicial acts valorized by the narrative. In fact, their acts are often portrayed as necessary: unachievable through judicial means, because of bureaucracy, corruption, and moral weakness. Meanwhile, historical Black and Indigenous responses to injustice were demeaned and minimized. Indigenous attempts to defend their lands were portrayed as hostile attacks on white settlers. Black cowboys—which historians estimate made up to 25% of the Texan cowboy population—were nominally equal to white cowboys. The dangerous, difficult work of cattle herding necessarily created respect and camaraderie. But they were still given harder, more dangerous tasks on the trail, expected to take on additional duties such as cooking and performing, and were turned away from certain restaurants and housing in the towns they passed through. Even today, it’s clear whose anger is legitimized and whose is demonized: white backlash to cultural change got Trump elected to the White House, while Black Lives Matter has been deemed politically corrosive outside a small circle of progressive lawmakers.

All American Boys is a commentary on the absence of Black cowboys in our narratives of the Wild West, which has historically enforced white male power structures. In All American Boys, Brown looks us directly in the eye and questions our conceptions of masculinity, of whiteness, of the Wild West. The conclusion she reaches is inevitable: that white male masculinity is untenable, an exaggerated performance, and deeply intertwined with revisionist whitewashed histories. 

Akea Brionne Brown’s work is included in the CAPP 2021 New Arrivals at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 30 to October 16, 2021.

For more information on Akea Brionne Brown, visit https://www.akeabrown.com/.
For more information on New Arrivals 2021 and related events, visit https://thestamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery

Further Reading

• Cowboy Masculinities: Relationality and Rural Identity
• “In All Truthfulness As I Remember It”: Deciphering Myth and Masculinity in Cowboy Memoirs
• Elisa Bordin, Masculinity and Westerns: Regenerations at the Turn of the New Millennium
• “Western” Notions of Justice: Legal Outsiders in American Cinema
• The Lesser-Known History of African-American Cowboys
• Honoring African American Contributions: African American Cowboys on the Western Frontier
• Black Lives Matter thought they had Washington’s ear. Now they feel shut out.

Amidst from April 12, 2021 to May 15, 2021 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Fiona Yang 

On Tuesdays, Elizabeth Katt sits at her desk in the gallery and works on her piece, “An Accounting: Through December.” By hand, she meticulously documents each death due to coronavirus in the United States – one tally for each life lost, according to data from Worldometer and Columbia University. Viewers steer respectfully clear around her desk, occasionally pausing to watch. Katt initially curated a playlist of mourning and protest songs from different cultures, but found it too distracting and now works, for the most part, in silence (Maryland Today).

When Katt is not working, her desk sits empty and quiet. The piece’s significance is apparent whether or not the artist is present; heaps of adding machine tape in the windows attest to COVID-19’s toll even without Katt’s silent labor as accompaniment. As a docent, with my own work to get absorbed in, there is only one significant difference between Katt’s presence and absence: each Tuesday at half-hour intervals, I am startled out of my reverie by Katt announcing to the silent gallery, “December 23rd. Three thousand, four hundred and five lives.” 

“December 24th. Two thousand, eight hundred and ninety-six lives.”

“December 25th. One thousand, four hundred and ten lives.” 

As the pandemic wore on in the US, breezing by its one-year anniversary on March 11, it became apparent that people were growing tired of confinement. The New York Times termed the phenomenon “quarantine fatigue.” Online engagement with COVID-19 was highest in March, when people entered lockdown; since then, attention has declined and stayed low. Axios summarizes, “Online interest in the coronavirus has been associated mostly with how disruptive it’s been to people’s lives rather than how severe of a risk it posed.” 

It’s human nature to tune out information that makes us uncomfortable, especially if it doesn’t directly affect us. But that inattention can have deadly consequences. As alarm over COVID-19 waned and “quarantine fatigue” set in, data shows people were staying home less and taking longer trips – as early as April of last year, just a month after quarantine started.¹ Inevitably, when people ventured back outside in defiance of COVID-19 regulations, the New York Times reported corresponding spikes in new cases. Dramatic surges were observed in July 2020 and January 2021,² coinciding with warm summer weather and holiday family gatherings respectively. Warnings from state governments and public health ordinances were disregarded. And throughout it all, quietly and without fanfare, the US death toll climbed. The US counts over 585,000 COVID-19 deaths. The New York Times reported 33,041 new cases yesterday alone. 

In “An Accounting,” Katt says out loud the number of lives lost to COVID-19 per day. It is her way of coming to terms with the inconceivable losses the US has suffered – breaking down the number 585,000 into small, manageable chunks. It drives home the fact that these losses were incremental and cumulative, each day filled with preventable deaths. 

By shattering the silence in the gallery, Katt metaphorically shatters the apathy and silence that settled over the topic of COVID-19 after March. No doubt the number 585,000 – if not more, since new cases are still being reported – will be held up after quarantine ends as a tragic and sizable number. But it is not the post-pandemic reaction that matters. It is the present actions of an uncaring public that will determine the spread and impact of COVID-19. And Katt’s periodic reminders reflect the importance of that fact.

1. NYT reported in April 2020, “In Texas, 25 percent of people stayed home on April 24, compared with 29 percent on April 10, two weeks earlier. In Ohio, people took 3.2 trips, on average, on April 24, up from an average of 2.8 trips two weeks before. In Louisiana, people traveled an average of 31.1 miles, up from 24.7.”
2. In July of 2020, NYT reported a spike of 66,784 average new cases. In January of 2021, NYT reported another spike of 254,002 average new cases.

Sources

• https://today.umd.edu/articles/seeing-covid-19s-mark-a7e6ecbf-a4a5-4762-aa10-06bab9ca22b6
• https://www.axios.com/covid-attention-social-media-661ecdc3-0669-459a-a491-ed7fb069ab29.html
• https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/27/us/coronavirus-social-distancing-lockdown.html

Elizabeth Katt’s work is included in Amidst at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park.

For more information on Amidst and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery.

Amidst from April 12, 2021 to May 15, 2021 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Mollie Goldman 

In Alyssa Imes’ piece, Face Tube (Our Portal), two women dressed entirely in white are tethered to one another by an orange and yellow woven sleeve that fully covers each of their heads. The piece is a short film which depicts two women undergoing a series of movements that involve approaching and distancing from each other. They fold the face tube into itself to pull each other closer, or loosen it to distance from one another. 

In Imes’ personal statement on her website, she discusses the importance of the human body and of human connection in her artworks. This piece exemplifies both of those values. It includes the beauty and fluid movements of human figures while integrating it with the weight of human interaction and the intensity of a bond. Imes stated that her work is inspired by her history as a dancer and her sociable nature. In terms of being a dancer, she is inspired by the way that human bodies “can create unique compositions.” When Imes uses her own body in a performance, she “can be completely vulnerable and open” with her audience. This trait is certainly present in the raw, unguarded quality of her short film.  

Furthermore, Imes defines herself as “an extremely social person” who thrives when surrounded by people and makes her work “about important personal connections I share with people.” In Face Tube, Imes is literally connected to another person. Their bond depicts push and pull, distance and closeness, yet they always remain tethered to one another. And they continuously rearrange the face tube in tandem with one another as they alter their own bodily positions and poses. 

Imes’ piece prompts viewers to consider the nature of this specific human connection as well as the nature of the viewer’s own relationships. The nature of the relationship that the viewer interprets in Imes’ pieces certainly may vary. However, one thing is clear: Imes is telling the story of a dynamic, unbreakable bond between two humans. 

Alyssa Imes’ work is included in Amidst at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park

For more information on Amidst and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery.

Can you tell me a little bit about your artistic process and how it has evolved over the course of your studies?

Having a dance background growing up, I am always drawn to the body and dynamic movement. Then I started working in sculpture and I found I liked making things in the 3D realm. I started working a lot in metal casting. With metal casting I was mostly drawn to the ritualistic nature of the process of casting iron. That’s why I call the material ‘communal poured cast iron.’ I also have a love for using textiles in combination with metal, it has a nice soft and hard feel.

You confront many tough issues in your art, and specifically the topic of sexual assault in your piece “I will keep you upright in the cold silence.” Can you talk a little bit more about this work? If you feel comfortable saying, what prompted you to tackle this issue> What was the process like getting the final piece?

The subject of sexual assault is very personal to me. This piece was prompted after thinking about the awkward silence around sexual assault as well as trauma. My support system is what got me through. The people that believe and support me through the healing process. So all these female lips leaning up against each other and physically supporting their weight with no glue.

Additionally, you tackle a lot of internal issues within your work. How do you visualize those struggles, and how do you feel about the stereotype that artists have to suffer in order to make good art?

So in my work I try to balance the positive and negative. There is always a positive to a negative, it may take time and process but positivity always wins. It’s the only way I have been able to grow as a stronger version of myself.

You have shown that you like to experiment with materials in your piece “Post-Traumatic Growth,” what materials/mediums do you prefer to use in your practice? Is there anything you have been wanting to try but haven’t gotten the chance?

I love cast iron of course, there is just an earthy quality to it. People see it as the cheaper way to make metal casting. However, the work I make is humbling and I think using a godly material like bronze is inappropriate for the work. But I always love the soft and hard together. So the textile with the metal. I think the material of the piece comes with the concept. So I kinda follow the piece and where is takes me, I go with that medium.

I heard you broke a lot of blenders for your piece “Post-Traumatic Growth.” Why did you decide to use sheets to convey the ups and downs of growth after trauma?

There is something about taking time to break something down. To get through your trauma it takes time and patience. It has taken time and wisdom for me to figure this out. Bed sheets are more personal to my experience. However the comfortability of being safe is stripped away. It takes a while to feel safe in a bed again. At least it did for me. There is something amazing about being proactive and breaking that trauma down. Letting it have its peaks and valleys though, trauma is an unknown landscape and you need to be patient with yourself.

Where do you feel your practice is evolving in the future? Will you stick with sculpture, or veer more towards performance art like your piece “Face Tube (Our Portal).”

I would love to start working on more installation work as well as video. I feel like I am just scratching the surface with “Face Tube (Our Portal).” I am very excited to get back into performance work like this piece.

Do you have any favorite contemporary artists (or other public figures) that influence your practice?

I am a huge fan of Janine Antoni and Marina Abramovic. Their work is just so intense and personal! And I just have always loved their work.

How has the pandemic affected your art making?

I started making smaller and more manageable little sculptures that can be used in large installation qualities. I missed people in the pandemic and I think the work is more about personal connections.

Alyssa Imes’ work is included in Amidst at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park

For more information on Amidst and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery

Admist from  April 12, 2021 to May 15, 2021 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Emily Pan

In the exhibit of Admist, I found myself exploring a different perspective of art than before. The exhibit is unique in a variety of ways but the most noticeable characteristic is the high number of 3D art pieces. As a theatre major studying lighting, this factor caught my attention. Before, lighting design always collaborated with the motion of performance, but through this exhibit, I discovered its significance in 3D art pieces.

Among all the pieces in the exhibit, Transition / Resurrection by Martin Gonzales is an excellent example of light collaboration with art. The piece is a combination of foam, cardboard, resin, paint, wires, and flags in a mountainous structure surrounding an inner space with a wired chair. Gonzales explains that the piece is him trying to build shelter in a world of “faultiness and heartquakes”. While the piece itself could be presented entirely covered in light, the piece can also be brought to life by using light purposefully. In lighting design, there are about five aims of light including selective visibility, revelation of form, information, composition, and mood. For Gonzales’ piece, selective visibility and revelation of form would definitely be most significant in supporting it.

Selective visibility refers to using light to determine the focus of the audience and creating a path of light. While every part is important to the whole, the light in the gallery highlights small moments and emphasizes where the attention of the audience remains for a brief moment longer. These moments include the small plank at the very peak of the structure that balances a small figurine. The extra time the audience gives to the part introduces the figurine as an object different from the rest and possibly significant to the artist. In addition to emphasizing moments for the audience’s attention, occasionally, light is used to create a path of vision. As a viewer walks around the structure, the light reflects off the tip of the white branch, and then slowly travels all the way downwards as the viewer continues walking around. It’s as if the light reflecting off the branch is both guiding and encouraging the viewer to keep seeking and to keep exploring throughout the structure. 

Revelation of form refers to using light to reveal form. For a piece created from cardboard and various materials, texture is certainly important. When first stepping towards the piece, the viewer would immediately notice a sharp jagged spike coming far out of the structure. The light that highlights this part is coming from a strong side in which half of the piece lies in shadow and half in light. Being half in shadow emphasizes its form and shape, the shadow almost outlines what exists in view. The angle of the light also highlights the unique texture of the spike itself, the rope covered in paint creates slight shadows to reveal its ridges. As a result, this part of the structure is lit in such a way that it introduces the viewer to two important motifs in the piece; shape and texture. 

The use of lighting goes beyond these examples and I encourage any viewer to continue to explore art through various different perspectives, whether from your own background or from this one. The significance of light also exists beyond just this piece, every piece in the exhibit is lit in a  different way that highlights a different aspect. Light collaborates and supports the purpose and hopes of the art, and it helps us to better understand the art.

Martin Gonzales’ work is included in Amidst at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park

For more information on Amidst and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/stamp_gallery