UICA proves the point of Organize Your Own with unclear presentation
With a lack of clarity and information about the history and methods of this traveling show, which originally included public events, performances, and talks, UICA missed their chance to engage us in the show’s message.
When I saw the event page for Organize Your Own at the UICA I was overwhelmingly unimpressed. A five image slide show accompanied by a few short paragraphs which were little more than a long list of names and no real, useful information.
Upon arriving on opening night, it got worse. One of the images from the website wasn’t included in the work on display—and it turns out that many more contributions aren’t present. I was surrounded by hammer-fisted political points and nearly nothing I could consider to be art. There were a handful of photos by Amber Art & Design that were aesthetically pleasing, but the subject matter was clearly over my head. I thought worthlessly to myself that the lawn jockeys reminded me of Andre 3000 in the video for “Hey Ya!”.
I chuckled to myself as I saw watercolor paintings of t-shirts which read “I Used To Be A White American But I Gave It Up In The Interest Of Humanity” by contributing artist Robby Herbst. I wondered how many white middle class Midwesterners I know would wear those t-shirts unaware of how easily it could be interpreted to mean that they are only being demonstrably liberal. This is attire for a photo-op of a large group of white people standing in a white neighborhood spread around the white Facebook circles with trendy hashtags and self-congratulatory platitudes.
I wouldn’t confirm until long after I left and googled all the artists that my personal inside joke was spot-on.
I understand the not-so-subtle point of the depiction of Langston Hughes’ “The Ways of White Folks” being shown backwards, but all I saw was a lazy attempt to capitalize on someone else’s established work. I didn’t know that the image was typically accompanied by real time conversation.
I read poetry on the wall and thought to myself how much better it would be to hear the poems being read and to ask questions about them. The message was strong and important, and I was curious. It wasn’t making much of an impact way back in an empty corner, passively existing, drawing no attention to itself. This display was neglected and completely overlookable. Even the format of the hanging felt off, and would have been more aesthetically pleasing as five pieces in one straight line.
There was also a video loop on display, a piece by Irina Contreras, but the dialogue was inaudible under the DJ, effectively silencing the piece. I hung up the headphones, leaving it unheard.
It wasn’t until I got home later and visited the Organize Your Own website that I understood anything I had seen. I strongly recommend opening this link on your phone and using it as a guide to anyone who views the showing. Through the information I read on that site and links provided therein, I now know that the t-shirts were pointing out how no matter how big a display a white person makes about being socially responsible, we remain white. I learned not only why lawn jockeys are relevant to black history, but that the lanterns in the photos are symbolic as well, despite having overlooked their significance entirely when I viewed them on the walls. While at the UICA, I did not know Amber Art’s photos also had a performance piece meant to be attached.
There were many more names of contributors listed than contributions displayed, and only one short paragraph to describe the installation, which didn’t go far enough in helping the viewer navigate what could have been a powerful experience.
It almost feels as if the UICA, in this exhibition, is explicitly guilty of the message on its own t-shirts, and scans, and bold all caps text. A predominantly white institution in a predominantly white city in the overwhelmingly white American Midwest slapped some black art on the wall and expected to be praised as culturally aware and definitely not racist.
There was no discussion provided. The space was empty. There was no lecture, no reading, no conversation. Just five or six white folks, myself included, wandering aimlessly and wondering awkwardly if we understood anything that was going on, making harsh judgements on how derivative the all caps bold lettered statements xeroxed into frames were of our bleeding heart liberal social media echo chambers. It turns out that the scans are reminiscent of methods used to mass produce various publications at low costs by activists in the 60s. Maybe it was expected I had known that, perhaps my naivety is entirely on me, and maybe I was meant to be enlightened by the aspects of Organize Your Own that I was not exposed to.
Organize Your Own, in its intended entirety, is more than an art showing; it’s an interactive experience about transcending the gap between white civil rights activists and the experiences of people of color. But the UICA’s installation is lacking in the latter, more important aspect. It lacked people of color almost entirely, including viewers and representatives. We owe it to the artists and the people they represent to dig deeper into the meaning, symbolism, and goals of the art by doing our own research while viewing the gallery. The foundation is there but the presentation leaves us without the explanation or confirmation we sorely need in order to take away the intended meaningful learning experience.
In the end, I felt extremely uncomfortable and awkward as a white critic reviewing a collection of minority art that I didn’t understand and was not given the tools needed to understand it. So maybe it was a success? After all, I did spend the next several hours googling what I saw and did in fact learn a lot of history and realized that some of my unconfirmed assumptions were accurate. I’m thinking, I’m learning—and ultimately that is the goal.
