The Power of Visual Technology: Weapons and Witness

I find it fascinating how the camera can be used both as a weapon of self-defense and as a supporting witness. The camera serves as weapon by negating the hypergendered, hypersexualized, and other unfavorable representations that the “other” may force onto the body through its stereotypical lens and as a witness by providing support through a firsthand account of the subject’s true, real identity. In “Imprisoned in a Luminous Glare” by Leigh Raiford, the camera also serves as an ally and as an enemy to the Black Panther Party (BPP) by enabling the Party to negotiate dominant gender roles and debunk the stereotypes of the black body as a violent being on one hand and by feeding into this racial assumption through the “black male gaze” to invoke fear in the police and portray fearlessness to the black community on the other. The power of gaze also stood out to me when looking at the still images of the Black Panther Party because I was able to perceive fear, a feeling that proves the success of the BPP’s efforts.The photographs produced by the camera also enables commodification of both the black male and the relationship between the black community and the state by allowing the FBI to use the medium to counter the efforts of the BPP by tainting their image of good intention through mass media representation. Additionally, commodification is also introduced in the visual imagery published in the Black Panther, which provides a consistent image of the BPP as a whole in the midst of various BPP chapters being created nationally. With the recirculation of images of the BPP, I wonder how various audiences (racially, and nationally and internationally) now perceive the history of African-Americans in the United States compared to how they viewed the images during their first circulation in midst of political turmoil.

This week’s reading truly exposed me to the power of a photograph in determining identity. Prior to this course I solely viewed the camera for the purpose of capturing moments in history, totally ignoring the impact an image can have on one’s representation to the audience.

Johnson: Through assemblage, African-American artists used art to portray freedom and struggle and to promote solidarity; however, people who did not identify with the Black cultural narrative referred to symbols in Black art as “social realist cliches.”

Jones: African-American artists used black historical experiences, such as the Civil Rights Movement, and artifacts from protest demonstrations to inspire and enhance their assemblages, which represented the transformation within black art and the black community.

Raiford: The Black Panther Party used the visual technologies of their physical presence and photography to educate the people about their mission and programs and to negate their militant image that was portrayed by the state through the dominant mass media arena.

Black Art & the Promotion of Solidarity

With a substantial rise in African American migration to Los Angeles during the twentieth century and an increase in civil rights and Black Power activism, the African American community in Los Angeles began growing stronger.  Simultaneously, black artists were creating art that symbolized and depicted their own as well as the experiences of those around them – many of which were represented in Now Dig This!  Art and Black Los Angeles, 1960 -1980.  Johnson believes that through promoting solidarity, the art in Now Dig This! “poses a problem for its audience” because it divides them into 2 categories: 1 group that identifies with the black experience, and another group that does not.  However, I do not view this as a problem at all.  How are black artists creating art fueled by emotions from events that took place in their lives any different from Picasso creating art during his Blue Period?  It isn’t.  The fact that these pieces of art can be identified with by a certain group of people is secondary, and should be treated as such.  One can not expect an entire audience to have the same feelings, or reaction towards a singular piece of art whether it promotes solidarity or not.  Art is meant to promote discussion, and these pieces do just that.

In his article reviewing the exhibit at MoMA, Ken Johnson hones in on a piece by Melvin Edwards and writes: “Such dualities would be enough on which to base judgement and interpretation were this a piece by, say, the white junk sculptor Richard Stankiewicz.  But it makes a difference to know that Mr. Edwards is African-American…”  The real problem lies here. The race of the artist shouldn’t take precedence over the art.

Here’s an assemblage piece featured in the Davis Museum that both readings reminded me of (Kienholz, Edward; Kienholz, Nancy Reddin Sawdy 1971):

Mixed media assemblage (car door, mirrored window, automotive lacquer, polyester resin, screenprint, fluorescent light, galvanized sheet metal)

Johnson:  Black artists unconsciously divide their audience by taking assemblage, an art form initially created as an expression of freedom from parochial social mores, and using it as a way to promote solidarity through their art.

Jones:  A cultural shift within the black community opened up the possibilities for African American artists and fostered artistic innovation which ultimately led to the West Coast becoming notable for the acceptance of assemblage in mainstream America (through its symbolism of the black struggle between the 1960s and 80s).

Raiford: In the 1960s and 70s, the Black Panther Party used photography to create an image for themselves and give the black revolution more visibility in the American public eye.