Poke in the Eye: Art of the West Coast Counterculture is now on view at SAM! This homegrown exhibition features 87 ceramics, sculptures, paintings, and drawings from SAM’s collection—some of which are being shown for the first time. Throughout the run of the exhibition, we’ll be periodically sharing insight on a few of the eclectic artworks on view. Stay tuned for more object spotlights to come.
Howard Kottler’s American Gothicware from 1972 spoofs the well-known painting by Grant Wood, American Gothic, made in 1930. By placing a decal of the image on four plates and adding his own twist to each one, dinnerware becomes Gothicware à la Kottler!
During the start of the Great Depression (1929–1939), Grant Wood painted this now-iconic couple (the models were actually Wood’s dentist and sister) looking somber and proper in front of their farmhouse. Many viewers interpreted Wood’s painting as satire of older generations and outdated traditional values, while others saw it as a reflection of the resilience of farmers like these in the face of tough times. Since then, this painting has been parodied and reproduced in many forms, symbolic of one particular view of what it means to be an American.
Howard Kottler, working 40 years later, was a ceramicist in Seattle who taught at the University of Washington. Kottler was inspired by Pop Artists like Andy Warhol who experimented with reproducing famous images from pop culture and the art world. After World War II when the American economy was booming, artists were fascinated with the way that consumer goods and images could be mass-produced and identically replicated. Along with that, artists were also drawing from earlier movements like Dadaism and the idea of the readymade to challenge hierarchical definitions of art.
Kottler decided to use an everyday material that one could easily overlook, ceramic dishware, to bring politics to the table. American Gothicware conveys Kottler’s subversive attitude toward American life by altering Grant Wood’s painting across four plates: Look Alikes, Personal Possession, American Minstrels, and The Silent White Majority. Each plate offers a visual confrontation of the original painting by Wood and with it mainstream American values.
Look Alikesduplicates the man’s face and places it on the woman’s body, transforming them into a gay couple of sorts, or identical twins. In Grant’s painting, each character is strongly associated with their gender roles—the woman in her apron with houseplants on the porch behind her indicating her role as caretaker of the home, while the man is in overalls and a coat, holding a pitchfork and aligned with the red barn over his shoulder. While their stern expressions already made these two look alike, Kottler adds ambiguity about gender and the relationship between the characters. Kottler himself was a gay man and often included these questions and hidden meanings in his artworks.
In Personal Possession, a painted landscape seeps into the bodies and faces of the two characters, covering everything except their facial features and hair. Their skin is the color of the sky and their clothes have been replaced by a forest scene with some signs of human development: a bridge in the background and a tunnel to the right. The pioneer settlers who took the land as their own personal possession now wear the land as part of their clothes. It has become part of their identity as farmers who tend the land, but Kottler seems to ask if it was ever theirs to claim, critiquing the history of Manifest Destiny that is often taught in US history.
American Minstrelsalso delves into more unpleasant parts of American history. This image subtracts color from the skin of the two farmers to make them appear as white as the plate itself, making their whiteness literal. The title implies this could be seen as whiteface, an inverse of blackface minstrel shows wherein white performers would dress up as Black characters and parody their speech and behavior. Black performers would also participate in these minstrel performances, exaggerating their differences from white society. Minstrel shows were popular entertainment throughout the 1800s and perpetuated stereotypes that still linger today. Kottler’s reference to minstrels leaves the work open to more questions—what is being performed here and in the original American Gothic?
The Silent White Majorityalso critiques whiteness in America, co-opting a phrase that President Richard Nixon coined in 1969 for the American voters who did not vocally join in the counterculture and political discourses surrounding the Vietnam War. Here, the pair’s faces are mask-like with white covering the mouths but leaving their eyes and noses exposed. Their literal whiteness again calls attention to race, but even in their silence, they have power as a majority to influence politics in their favor, maintaining the status quo.
By modifying the recognizable symbol of Grant Wood’s American Gothic, Kottler subverted and questioned prevailing ideas about American identity in terms of gender, sexuality, race, and national history. Alongside these political messages, American Gothicware challenges the medium of art too, transforming the humble ceramic plate into an artwork that offers a visual and conceptual feast
Happy AANHPI Month! Every May, the United States recognizes the generations of Asian and Pacific Islanders who have enriched and influenced American history with Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage (AANHPI) Month. To celebrate, we caught up with Simon Tran, SAM Manager of Public Engagement at the Seattle Asian Art Museum, about his journey to SAM, what he’s working on right now, his goals for the growth of Asian art programming at the museum, and more!
Explore artworks from across Asia and the Pacific Islands by planning a visit to the Seattle Asian Art Museum or Seattle Art Museum. Click here to join our mailing list and stay up to date on future programs at all three SAM locations.
SAM: We would love to hear about your journey to SAM and the work that you do here.
SIMON TRAN: It’s been such an unexpected but thrilling full-circle moment! I began my SAM journey in 2016 as one of the first Emerging Arts Leader interns, immediately after graduating from college. I learned a lot about how art institutions can and should partner with education-based organizations—schools and universities—to develop engaging community-oriented programs. After the conclusion of my internship, I spent four years in Chicago, mostly working in public radio. During that time, I cultivated a deep interest in community-based programming and public engagement. Public radio is similar to art museums: So many diverse communities (can) engage with them, but oftentimes these populations feel excluded from the narrative. Before accepting my current role at SAM, I spent a year in Vietnam teaching English on a Fulbright grant, learning how to plan lessons and engage excited, young learners. I’m always trying to find spaces and opportunities where I can build better community coalitions and increase art access. Museums in particular can feel a bit culturally intimidating to some audiences, and I’m hoping to use public engagement as a vehicle to make museums more inviting and mutually participatory.
Simon Tran attends a tour of the Olympic Sculpture Park led by Emerging Arts Leader Intern Sorel Nica.
SAM: What are you working on right now that you’re excited about?
TRAN: The Seattle Art Museum is the largest institution I’ve ever worked at, so it’s been interesting to learn about its goals and existing programs. At the Gardner Center for Asian Art and Ideas, there’s been a rich history of lectures on Asian art and scholarship, and that’s something we want to continue. I’m excited to organize the 2024–2025 season of SAM’s Saturday University Lecture Series kicking off this fall, with scholarly perspectives from Latin America, Bhutan, Mongolia, and the Philippines. Asia as a continent is so vast, and there are so many histories, stories, and cultures that we can represent in our academic programming. I’m hoping to increase the visibility of certain voices that aren’t always reflected in this scholarship.
I’m also excited to plan and execute two upcoming editions of SAM Open House at the Asian Art Museum, activating existing and new partnerships cultivated by SAM’s Public Engagement, Education, and Family Programs teams. SAM Open House is a recurring series that invites the whole community to the museum for a free evening of fun and learning after our usual daytime hours. These events will also highlight the exquisite artworks on view in the museum’s upcoming exhibition Meot: Korean Art from the Frank Bayley Collection.
SAM: What are a few of your favorite memories at SAM so far?
TRAN: I’ve only been in this role for nine months, but I’ve already made so many amazing memories. Here are just a few of the highlights:
In February, I collaborated with Foong Ping, SAM Foster Foundation Curator of Chinese Art, to present “Tides of Times: A Conversation on Maritime Asia in Art and Trade.” This roundtable took place at the Seattle Art Museum and offered visitors an incredible opportunity to witness Ping’s brilliant scholarship and dedication to Asian art.
In March, I had the privilege of introducing Seattle audiences to the work of Nepalese artist Tsherin Sherpa. He spoke about his extraordinary work of fusing traditional thangka painting with contemporary influences. If you missed the conversation, you can watch it here!
Later in March, Anida Yoeu Ali transformed into The Buddhist Bug in the galleries of her ongoing solo exhibition Hybrid Skin, Mythical Presence at the Seattle Asian Art Museum. The museum welcomed over 1,000 visitors that day—it also coincided with Ramadan!
Artist Anida Yoeu Ali interacts with museum visitors as The Buddhist Bug in March 2024.A performer dances at SAM Open House at the Seattle Asian Art Museum in October 2023.
SAM: What short- and long-term goals do you have for programming at the Seattle Asian Art Museum?
TRAN: The Seattle Asian Art Museum is finally starting to feel like more of itself. For years, the museum was closed for remodeling and its grand reopening was cut short after just one month by the COVID-19 pandemic.; I’m still learning the history of the museum and the Gardner Center for Asian Art and Ideas—the legacy programs, past partnerships, challenges, etc. This fall, we’re excited to relaunch the film program, which will center on Asian films from different eras and genres. Film is an accessible medium, and we’re hoping to draw connections between the films and artworks in our galleries! I am also hoping to reinvigorate the community partners around Volunteer Park and Seattle. I know that there are so many organizations doing tremendous work around the city, and we have the responsibility to leverage our resources and bring BIPOC groups and audiences to the museum. Establishing a robust list of organizations that we can consistently communicate and/or partner with is my ultimate goal. The Seattle Asian Art Museum can always better serve and represent the public, and I hope I can help other institutions and organizations to coordinate with one another in a manner that’s more beneficial for us all.
SAM: Why is it essential for spaces such as the Seattle Asian Art Museum, and programming devoted to exploring Asian art and culture, to exist?
TRAN: I think about how most people know a bit about Western art and can name at least a few Western artists, but we’re often not taught much about Asian art. As an Asian American, I was really inspired to know that there are many cultural institutions—including the Seattle Asian Art Museum—in Seattle that have showcased Asian art for decades. Having a space dedicated to Asian art helps demystify what we think of Asian art, and it allows all types of audiences to understand and notice its histories and complexities. Not everyone will have the chance to visit Asia themselves, but I love that the Asian Art Museum is dedicated to making itself accessible for people to grow, to appreciate, and even become inspired by Asian art. Seattle has such a rich history of being a home to Asian people and cultures, and I’m excited to find ways to bridge AANHPI communities to come to the Seattle Asian Art Museum through our varied programming.
I’m really hoping that young people, especially other Asian Americans, feel at home at the Seattle Asian Art Museum, both as a place to draw inspiration and build moments with their fellow community members.
SAM staff members attend a tour led by Emerging Arts Leader Sorel Nica at the Olympic Sculpture Park.
SAM: SAM employs a Manager of Public Engagement at each of its three sites. How do you collaborate with the managers for the Seattle Art Museum and Olympic Sculpture Park to ensure that AANHPI stories are being represented across all three sites?
TRAN: This is the first professional experience I’ve had where the organization operates across multiple sites. It can be easy to just focus on my work at the Seattle Asian Art Museum, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed and relied on the creativity and strengths that my other colleagues bring.
Jesse Jimenez manages public engagement at the Seattle Art Museum, and they bring a foundational knowledge of art history and working at museums. I marvel at their commitment to long-term impact, pay equity, and improving systems, as well as how they purposely move away from the standard lecture/presentation models in event programming. Heaven Quiban manages public engagement at the Olympic Sculpture Park, and is so passionate and skilled at sustaining robust community partnerships, particularly around underrepresented and grassroots communities. Her ability to foster complex event series that bring together art, healing, and other forms of creative expression is indomitable and contagious.
The three of us talk a lot about improving processes at SAM and how we can better include historically excluded groups in the work that we do. Not only have they both worked at SAM longer than I have, but they’ve also both worked at museums before. Luckily for me, they are generous with their time and expertise. They continuously show up to help at my events, and are happy to connect me with artists and groups I could bring to the Asian Art Museum.
Foong Ping, SAM Foster Foundation Curator of Chinese Art addresses museum visitors in “Tides of Times: A Conversation on Maritime Asia in Art and Trade” in February 2024.
SAM: The Gardner Center for Asian Art and Ideas is celebrating its 15th birthday in 2024. How has the center evolved in that time?
TRAN: The Gardner Center for Asian Art and Ideas has a legacy of shaping how Asian art and culture is reflected and able to engage a broad range of audiences. In the past, the Center has organized yoga classes, performances, and interesting lectures and presentations. I’m hoping to extend that legacy by continuing to create a unique space for audience members to deepen their understanding and appreciation of Asian art and culture. Audiences today can look forward to intersectional cultural performances, creative programs that bring in dance, drag, poetry, and storytelling, as well as a heightened activation of the galleries and programs inspired by the exhibitions. We’re aiming to bring more voices and perspectives within the Asian diaspora to our museum and more visibly centered in the work we do.
SAM: SAM’s collection includes nearly 25,000 works of art. What’s one artwork from the collection on view right now that resonates with you? Why?
TRAN: I am obsessed with the Tomb guardian of Lokapala. It’s serving drama, strength, and killing evil spirits! Its static pose tells a hundred stories.
But on a serious note, this piece of artwork is so rich in detail and folklore. I love how iconography can signify questions about the afterlife, and how central mythical subjects were and are to Asian culture. It’s a mixture of spirituality, mystery, and science—Lokapala is a figure of cardinal directions. There are other Lokapala figures at the Asian Art Museum, ranging from different regions, eras, and made of different materials. There’s no “correct” interpretation of the same figure, and I find myself in awe when admiring each of the artworks.
Celebrate Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage Month by supporting one of these AANHPI small businesses and/or attending one of these upcoming events.
mam’s books The only independent Asian American bookstore in Seattle and the entire Pacific Northwest, mam’s books brings rejuvenating and community-centered programs like book readings, film screenings, community gatherings, dance parties, and so much more.
On Sunday, May 19, mam’s books will host a screening of the documentary short Made in Cambodia. The film follows contemporary artists in Cambodia, where an explosion of creativity, vibrance, and genius is currently taking place. Through the artists’ own voices, we learn about the state of the arts, what inspires them, and what it’s like to be an artist in Cambodia today. The event will begin at 1 pm with an art sale featuring works by the artists in the documentary with the screening beginning at 2 pm. Stick around from 2 to 3:30 pm for a live Q&A with the filmmakers.
Wing Luke Museum Located in Seattle’s International District and established in 1967, the Wing Luke Museum has a legacy of highlighting local artists and vendors through community-driven programs. The museum is a Smithsonian Institution affiliate and the only pan-Asian Pacific American community-based museum in the United States.
Attend the second annual Spring Market on Saturday, May 25 in the museum’s Community Hall to meet local AANHPI artisans, creatives, and vendors. Local businesses and artists Melted Porcelain, Heliaki Co, and Roldy Aguero Ablao will all be in attendance and visitors can participate in a free lei-making art activity presented by community partner United Territories of Pacific Islanders Alliance Washington.
Amy Tan: The Backyard Bird Chronicles Amy Tan is the author of several novels including The Joy Luck Club, The Bonesetter’s Daughter, and most recently, The Backyard Bird Chronicles. On Wednesday, May 29, the Seattle Public Library, in partnership with Elliott Bay Book Company, will welcome Tan to the Central Library as she shares stories and images from her latest book.
The Backyard Bird Chronicles maps the passage of time through daily entries, thoughtful questions, and gorgeous original sketches. With boundless charm and wit, Tan charts her foray into birding and the natural wonders of the world. is a gorgeous, witty account of birding, nature, and the beauty around us that hides in plain sight.
The Seattle Art Museum could not have entered my life at a better time. In July 2022, I had “retired” from my professional ballet career and was planning to move to Seattle with my partner. I was in the precarious situation of moving to a new city and changing careers at the same time. I have always loved museums, and knew I wanted to be a part of this world in my second career—I just didn’t know what specific part I could play. One day, I stumbled across a blog post written by a SAM intern. In her post, she described how she was able to gain valuable work experience in a world class art museum while discovering how she could see herself fitting into the broader museum space. The opportunity sounded too good to be true, but a bit more research led me to the application for the museum’s Emerging Arts Leader Internships, and I applied right away. I was thrilled to be given the opportunity to join SAM!
Skipping to my first day at SAM, I was placed in the Education and Public Engagement Department working alongside the wonderful Erika Katayama, SAM Associate Director of Interpretation. She explained the ins and outs of her role and laid out the projects I would be working on. This included writing interpretive stops for the museum’s smartphone tour and verbal descriptions of artworks for low/no-vision visitors. This would kick off my three month dive into verbal descriptions, accessibility, and the relationship between visual art and the blind community.
How does a museum make visual art available to those who are low vision or blind? The COVID-19 pandemic greatly reduced the amount of tactile surfaces available to touch in an environment where touching was already discouraged. Audio guides provide background information on the art but typically do not explicitly relay the content of the art. That being said, much of what sighted people glean visually can be conveyed with words. That is where verbal descriptions come in. Verbal descriptions help to create a mental image of an artwork through a detailed narration. Visual art is a misnomer—so much more goes into art than paint on a canvas. Art can be appreciated in an equally valuable way through the other senses. SAM’s commitment to providing these options to visitors is a vital step toward making the museum a more accessible space. A significant part of my internship was spent researching and writing verbal descriptions for artworks on view in American Art: the Stories We Carry and Chronicles of the Global East. Completing this work grew my knowledge of what goes into museum accessibility significantly and changed the way I interpret art. Though SAM has tens of thousands of artworks in its collection, I am glad to have made even the smallest dent in increasing its accessibility to the public.
I am so proud to resume my work with accessibility by continuing to work at SAM over the next few months. This fall, I plan to attend grad school and find my place within the world of libraries, museums, and archives. I can’t wait to see what comes next for me.
– Isabel Amador, SAM Emerging Arts Leader Intern in Education and Public Engagement
“Art is life. It is a vessel that allows me to express my perception of the world, my sense of beauty and my social concerns–which, I believe, are shared by many other persons around the world.”
Everyone at the Seattle Art Museum was very saddened to learn of the recent passing of beloved Seattle painter Alfredo Arreguín at the age of 88. Acclaimed for his lavish, intricately patterned, and highly symbolic canvases, he was one of the Pacific Northwest’s most prominent Chicano artists. Last year, I had the pleasure of meeting Alfredo when the museum purchased his artwork, Four Self-Portraits (1995) for the collection. We were in the midst of checklist development for our major project to reimagine the museum’s American art galleries and were struck by the underrepresentation of Mexican American artists in the museum’s collection—particularly given the breadth of this community in our region. Jake Prendez, owner and co-director of Nepantla Cultural Arts Gallery, a member of our Advisory Circle for American Art: The Stories We Carry, and a wonderful resource on Seattle’s Chicanx community and its artists, invited me to his gallery to view Alfredo’s work. I was hooked. One visit to the artist’s studio later, and we were on our way to acquiring the first of his paintings to enter SAM’s collection.
Alfredo was born in Morelia, Michoacán in 1935, and was encouraged by his grandparents (who raised him) to begin painting at a young age. When he was nine, he enrolled in the Morelia School of Fine Art, eventually moving on to the prestigious Escuela Nacional Preparatoria at the University of Mexico, from which he graduated in 1956. That same year, encouraged by a local family, he came to Seattle and obtained a permanent visa so that he could attend Edison Tech (now Seattle Central College) to study English, earn his US high school diploma, and enroll at the University of Washington to study architecture. When a condition of his visa made him eligible for the draft, he entered the army and was stationed in Korea and Japan. Upon his discharge in 1960, he returned to architectural studies, eventually transitioning to interior design and, finally, the School of Art. While there, he studied alongside celebrated artists Alden Mason, Michael Spafford, and, for a time, Elmer Bischoff. After receiving his MFA in 1969, he settled permanently in Seattle, becoming a force among artists and an integral member of the local Chicanx community.
Alfredo is celebrated for his astonishing signature style: exuberant, mosaic-inflected, all-over compositions comprised of motifs derived from the rainforests and Indigenous cultures of Mexico, the compositions of Hokusai and Hiroshige, and the nature and topography of the Pacific Northwest. His work is closely aligned with American Pattern Painting of the 1970s, yet it is also deeply personal and symbolic. A series of paintings of historical figures Emiliano Zapata and Frida Kahlo, for example, pay homage to activists whose interests resonate with his own, while a body of landscape paintings encode the flora, fauna, and natural beauty that inspire him. For him, painting was a form of therapy, a flow activity to which he returned every day.
Arreguín’s singular—even autobiographical—approach is nowhere more evident than in his large number of self-portraits, of which Four Self-Portraits is perhaps the most extreme and challenging example. A tapestry of tropical flowers, birds, leaves, arabesques, and ancient symbols interlace to camouflage four distinct portraits of Arreguín: two at the top and two more, mirrored, at the bottom—literally merging the artist with the places and cultures of his ancestry. Remembering Alfredo, I find myself seeing this engrossing painting afresh, grateful that SAM now shares in the legacy of this distinguished artist. Its acquisition will shape our collection strategy for years to come, as we amplify our efforts to bring in artworks—both historical and contemporary—by Chicanx and Latinx artists.
– Theresa Papanickolas, SAM Ann M. Barwick Curator of American Art
Photos: Alborz Kamalizad. Four Self-Portraits, 1995, Alfredo Arreguin, Oil on canvas, Painting: 49 3/8 x 42 3/8 in. (125.4 x 107.6 cm) Frame: 55 x 43 in. (139.7 x 109.2 cm), Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation Art Acquisition Fund, 2022.13 (c) Alfredo Arreguin.
“I kind of got a bit of an illicit thrill out of cutting them up.”
– Brian Jungen
Though first launched in 1984, a new pair of Air Jordan 1 sneakers still regularly fetches a price tag of $150-250. This past summer, a rare pair of Air Jordan 1 High sneakers worn by Michael Jordan in 1985 sold at auction for $615,000, no doubt propped up by the popularity of the recent Jordan docuseries, The Last Dance, which premiered during nationwide stay-at-home recommendations. The shoes have held their status and notoriety in basketball and sneakerhead culture for decades, so how does their status change when a contemporary artist cuts them apart?
Brian Jungen’s (Dane-Zaa, Canadian) sculptures are rendered from dismantled Nike sneakers and echo the ovoid shapes and abstracted figures prominent in the traditional Indigenous cultural designs of Northwest Coast peoples. Jungen gained wide recognition for his series, Prototypes for New Understanding (1998-2005), which presented reassembled sneakers as Northwest Coast-inspired masks. However, Broken Arrangement (2015-16) presents an even more abstracted form, fluid in what might be perceived from each angle: an open mouth, a staring eye, or perhaps a raised tail.
While attempting to decipher the shapes, what becomes unmistakable is the ubiquitous Nike “swoosh” logo that appears throughout the disassembled and rearranged sneakers. Jungen’s appropriation of Nike’s iconic shoe comments simultaneously on the widespread commodification and cultural cooptation in contemporary society. Not lost on the artist is Nike’s stature as a corporate icon headquartered in the Pacific Northwest, as well as its influence on global consumer culture and problematic history of exploitative labor practices. Jungen’s reassembly of Nike products and iconography into works reflecting Northwest Coast design is an act that confronts the value placed on Indigenous cultures and artworks by Western society—indeed a broken arrangement in its own right.
Jungen has expanded his exploration of the connections between sport and global economic systems. In 2004, Jungen created the enormous installation Court, a full-length basketball court comprised satirically, and somewhat precariously, of sewing machine tables that evoke the scope and scale of sweatshop labor. More recently, Jungen has considered connections between the basketball court, community, and ritual. Just last year he installed new work against the backdrop of a basketball court during the exhibition Brian Jungen: Friendship Centre, at the Art Gallery of Ontario, not necessarily as critique, but as a “. . . site of, you know, incredible pain for people who you know weren’t involved or interested in sports. But it’s also a place for a lot of First Nations people that is a site of ceremony, especially for gatherings and dancing . . . So that’s kind of what how that started—and I wanted to create a space in a museum that seemed a bit more kind of welcoming, or a place that possibly a lot of youth could identify with.”[1]
As with all things, professional basketball looked different in 2020. In the past few weeks, fans watched as the Seattle Storm and Los Angeles Lakers won the 2020 WNBA and NBA championship titles, respectively. The teams and players slogged through a condensed summer of play in the “bubble” on three basketball courts at Disney properties in Orlando, Florida. Daily COVID-19 tests, wristband tracking devices, no fans, and limited contact with family members resulted in zero positive cases during the season. Remarkably, it worked. That’s not to say the season, both in basketball and in America, was without struggle and anger directed at racial injustice and police violence across the country.[2] Players boycotted, made actionable demands of league management and government officials, and used their international platforms to call attention to crises happening in communities across the country. The NBA is a multibillion-dollar global industry, yet the players challenged each other to reconfigure the bubble and their sport’s stature within popular culture to deliver a powerful message for people watching amidst a global pandemic and social upheaval.
As Jungen articulates, “sport fulfills the very basic human need for ceremony, and that used to take place in many different cultures on a much smaller scale, very locally. Now I think that takes place with mass media and professional sports for a lot of people.”[3]Broken Arrangement is about much more than basketball and sneakers, of course. Jungen’s sculpture challenges knowledge and perceptions of Indigenous art and artistry through popular culture’s reverence for mass produced objects. Ripped apart and transformed into an entirely new object, the source material is simultaneously familiar and difficult to decipher in its final form. We’re trying to make sense of a lot of broken things right now, and one can only hope that they will become as beautiful and meaningful as Jungen’s arrangement.
– Philip Nadasdy, SAM Associate Director of Public Engagement
Kehinde Wiley’s signature portraits of everyday men and women riff on specific paintings by Old Masters, replacing the European aristocrats depicted in those paintings with contemporary Black subjects, drawing attention to the exclusion of African Americans from historical and cultural narratives. His portraits are a thoughtful remix of grandiose patterns and hip-hop; there’s an intention behind their gaze, and often-subtle symbolism, which I’ll expand on.
After receiving his MFA from the Yale School of Art in 2001, Wiley’s career flourished. You may have been introduced to Wiley’s art in a number of ways.
1. A Major Commission In 2005, VH1 commissioned Wiley to paint portraits of the honorees for that year’s Hip Hop Honors program. The theme was “the golden age of hip hop,” evidenced by custom portraits of the pioneering honorees: Notorious B.I.G., Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, LL Cool J, Big Daddy Kane, Ice T, and Salt-N-Pepa.
2. A Major Tour The Brooklyn Museum organized a national exhibition tour Kehinde Wiley: A New Republic (2015–17), which included a stop at SAM in 2016, and featured SAM’s painting, Anthony of Padua. SAM’s manager of interpretive technology, Tasia Johnson, utilized an app in which visitors could scan the painting with their smartphones and learn more about the symbolism of some of the works on view.
Wiley’s 2013 painting is based on Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres’ late-19th-century stained glass window depicting Saint Anthony of Padua. In Ingres’ work, the Franciscan Saint holds a lily, the infant Jesus, and a Bible, symbolizing his purity, theological scholarship, and gifts as a preacher dedicated to Christ. Unlike Saint Anthony’s pose, meant to convey a Franciscan commitment to poverty and humility, Wiley’s portrait is infused with worldly seduction: his Anthony’s skin is flawless, his lips are pink, and his gaze, looking down at us, is seductive and empowered. A second depiction of Saint Anthony of Padua, an altar painting in Italy, is even more similar to Wiley’s sitter. Unlike the Ingres version, however, this saint’s body language is more open, facing the viewer. It’s clear that all versions have similarities: Saint Anthony’s left arm holds a book, and his right hand holds a flower or stick.
The orange panther patch on Wiley’s model’s jacket––prominently displayed on his right shoulder––is similar to that worn by the 66th Infantry Division of the US Army during World War II. The black panther was also selected as an emblem of power for the Black Panther Party, which used organized force for political advancement during the 1960s fight for civil rights.
Military jackets like the one worn by the sitter are not only US Army uniforms, but also high fashion pieces worn by celebrities like Queen Latifah. The item became popular for civilian-wear during the 1960s, when counterculture youth subversively wore army green jackets as antiwar commentary. With a young black man replacing a European saint in Wiley’s painting, the jacket’s history as a form of social commentary is further amplified.
3. A TV Cameo: Empire In season one of Fox’s Empire, Wiley’s paintings were prominently featured in the home of the formidable Lyon family. There is a clear correlation between Empire and Wiley’s work: both are steeped in the bravado and style of hip-hop culture, and serve to upend antiquated notions regarding class, racial identity, and the politics of power.
4. Celebrities as Collectors They’re just like us! Celebrities are also fans of Wiley’s work. Alicia Keys and Swizz Beatz apparently own a massive painting, and Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka own three paintings as of 2014.
5. The Obama Portrait In February 2018, the official portrait of President Barack Obama was unveiled at the National Portrait Gallery. The NPG welcomed record attendance figures that year with 2.3 million, which is due in no small part to the new portrait by Wiley, as well as a portrait of First Lady Michelle Obama by Amy Sherald.
I visited NPG in November 2018. I stood in line at the main entrance at least 30 minutes prior to opening hours and there were already dozens of like-minded visitors cued in line. When the doors opened, the museum staff––without any prompts––immediately announced which floors the Obama portraits were on. The floodgates had opened. Along the way, there were individual signs giving you clues that you were on the right path.
The painting depicts President Obama sitting in a chair seemingly floating among foliage. Surrounding him are chrysanthemums (the official flower of Chicago), jasmine (symbolic of Hawaii, where Obama spent most of his childhood), and African blue lilies (alluding to the president’s late Kenyan father). When I finally came face-to-face with the portrait, I knew it would be the closest I would ever be to him.
– Tina Lee, SAM Exhibitions and Publications Manager
The next time you are able to visit the Asian Art Museum you will be greeted by a new light installation. Gather by Kenzan Tsutakawa-Chinn was commissioned to celebrate the legacy of Asian artists working over generations and all over the world. Hear from Kenzan in this artist talk and look forward to gathering under this site-specific installation.
The renovation and expansion of the Asian Art Museum allowed SAM curators to rethink how the artwork would be presented. Previously organized by regions with Japan in one wing, China in the other, and South Asia in the Garden Court, we were limited in the selection of works on view. Now, with more space and the thematic reinstallation, we are able to represent more of our renowned collection from all over Asia. This also created space in the Garden Court to present this new installation.
Learn more about SAM’s history and the Tsutakawa family! Check out this article in the South Seattle Emerald about Gather written by Kenzan’s mother, Mayumi Tsutakawa. You can find out more about Kenzan’s grandfather, George Tsutakawa in this SAM Blog article contributed by the Tsutakawa family and see his work on view at our downtown location when we are able to reopen in Exceptionally Ordinary: Mingei 1920–2020.
We are humbled by the generosity of our donors during this unique time. Your financial support powers SAM Blog and also sustains us until we can come together as a community and enjoy art in the galleries again. Thanks to a generous group of SAM trustees, all membership and gifts to SAM Fund will be matched up to $500,000 through June 30!
While a human-caterpillar hybrid such as Walter Oltmann’s Caterpillar Suit I, may seem strange, it’s completely appropriate for these strange times that we’re currently living in. The tiny hairs that encompass the insects referenced in Walter Oltmann’s work are called setae. The function of these hairs are practical—they’re connected to nerve-endings and give caterpillars a sense of touch—as well as a defense mechanism. A recent study showed that the longer and denser the setae, the less likely predators were to eat the caterpillars.
Looking at Oltmann’s work in the era of coronavirus brings to mind biomimicry. Biomimcry is described by the Biomimcry Institute as “the practice of applying lessons from nature to the invention of healthier, more sustainable technologies for people.”[1] Another way to understand this concept is through antennae-inspired outfits, designed to help with social distancing.
What ways can nature spur ideas to help us adapt to our new normal? Come up with your own biomimicry design for coronavirus through drawing. Oltmann makes more than sculptures, he also creates drawings and prints with similar designs as his sculptures. We’ll use this approach for our activity.
Bristle Disguise II, 2014, Walter Oltmann, pen & ink and pencil on paper65 x 50 cm. Cradle, Walter Oltmann, 2015, lithograph (TP from an edition of 35), Work: 57 x 69 cm.
What you’ll need
Paper
Pencil
Eraser
Fine-tipped marker or pen.
With drawing, like any physical activity, you may want to start with a warm up. Try sketching some simple shapes to warm up your drawing muscles!
Sketch a figure drawing of yourself or have someone in your home pose for you!
First, draw in pencil, then outline the essential lines in marker or pen. Erase the pencil marks. Your figure should be a very simple form, like a gingerbread man shape.
Next, think about ways that nature, your favorite animal, or an ecosystem protects itself. For caterpillars, it might be a visible attribute, such as setae protecting against predators, but it could also be a non-visible process, like how they consume poisonous milkweed without getting sick. For inspiration check out asknature.org.
Draw this natural defense attribute onto the figure you’ve drawn using lines, shapes, or patterns.
Share your innovative ideas with us by posting using the hashtag #StayHomewithSAM and celebrate everyone working hard in the midst of this pandemic to find practical ways of protecting us from the coronavirus.
– Kelsey Donahue, SAM Assistant Manager for Gallery Learning & Lynda Harwood-Swenson, SAM Assistant Manager for Studio Programs
Every January, SAM honors Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. with a week of spotlight tours led by museum staff, focused on artists and artworks currently on view in SAM’s galleries that speak to themes of race and social justice. Free and open to the public, the tours are also a big draw for SAM administrative staff, who step away from their desks on the fifth floor and head down to hear from one of their colleagues. Grounded in a love for, and knowledge of, the collection, the tours are often deeply personal, as the speaker finds resonances in the art with their own experiences of race and social justice.
Since launching the series in 2015, there have been many memorable tours. In 2017, Public Engagement Associate David Rue danced his tour in front of Robert Colescott’s Les Demoiselles d’Alabama: Vestidas, a major work by the Black artist that had been recently been brought into the museum’s collection. He moved to the sounds of The Shirelles’ “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,” simultaneously celebrating the increased visibility of Black artists and wondering whether it was just lip service—or the beginning of a new future of true equity.
Actress and performance artist (and SAM Visitor Services Officer) Adera Gandy led a tour in 2018 that visited the current show Lessons from the Institute of Empathy. Anchored by an immersive installation by contemporary artist Saya Woolfalk, the show includes works selected by the artist from SAM’s African art collection. Adera focused on Fulani and Ghanaian gold jewelry, reminding us that just as practitioners of alchemy attempted to find a universal elixir by turning base metals into gold, we must work towards equity not only with external steps—measurable policies and practices—but with internal shifts to transform the collective mind and create authentic and sustainable change.
In 2019, Social Media and Communications Coordinator Nina Dubinsky visited the current installation Body Language and discussed Akio Takamori’s ceramic sculpture Willy B. It’s inspired by a famous 1970 photo of German Chancellor Willy Brandt kneeling down and silently bowing his head at a monument to the thousands of Poles killed in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of 1943. Nina connected Takamori’s interest in this evocative gesture as a political statement to her generation’s use of social media to unite in social movements, such as #BlackLivesMatter, #MeToo, #TransRightsMatter, and #MuteRKelly.
Also this year, we expanded the series beyond staff to include tours by Dr. Cherry Banks, a SAM trustee and Professor in Education Studies at the University of Washington Bothell, and Celeste Ericsson, a SAM docent who participates in the SAM docent corps’ Equity Working Group. The Art and Social Justice Tours continue to change the way we all experience the works in our collection. Including more perspectives only deepens their impact. Join us next year when we continue this tradition of honoring the radical and loving legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
“What does it actually truly mean to be educated? And what would it mean to decolonize the idea of being educated?” – Chris Jordan
Every artwork has a story. For our Object of the Week Tacoma-based artist Chris Jordan shares Charlotte Turner’s story and asks us to question what education looks like in the face of the violent history of the slave trade. Consider this and more when you visit SAM’s collection and see Needlework Sampler in person. Want to hear more from local artists and creative community members? Check out our My Favorite Things playlist on YouTube for more perspectives on SAM’s collections.
This summer, two very bright and curious high school seniors helped out in the museum’s curatorial division. Milo and Henry spent their summer helping organize our object records, and researching several works in the SAM collection. Here, they write about their experience.
The SAM Next Heide Hinrichs installation Borrowed tails closes this Sunday. In conjunction with the closing we wanted to publish a conversation between the exhibition curator, Marisa Sanchez, Assistant Curator of Modern and Contemporary Art and the artist Heide Hinrichs.
When a natural disaster strikes, like the recent earthquake in China1, saving human lives is naturally the first concern. In the aftermath however, the loss of cultural artifacts and historic sites can be devastating to communities as well. Art and architecture provide evidence of our shared histories and give us a foundation on which to build a common identity. Living in Seattle, an area of the world prone to seismic activity, one might ask what Fremont would be like without its troll, or the Seattle skyline without the Space Needle? Hopefully, we will never know.
Recently I blogged about the scant history of the museum’s magnificent painting by Frederic Church, entitled A Country Home, which was a gift to the museum in 1965 from one Mrs. Paul C. Carmichael. For five years I’ve been wanting to learn more about Mrs. Carmichael and how she came to Seattle and how she came to bring with her her great grandfather’s impressive picture by Church. I’ve been surprisingly lucky in research so many times that I’m now convinced that some strange forces guide our hands as we delve into the past—forces that make sure that lives are never forgotten. The forces directed me to Mrs. Carmichael just last week.
Frederic Edwin Church (American, 1826-1900), A Country Home, 1854; oil on canvas 32 x 51 in. Gift of Mrs. Paul C. Carmichael, 65.80
Artist John Marshall, screen shot from the SAM video
Recently, Decorative Arts curator Julie Emerson was able to commission a coffee and tea service from silversmith John Marshall for our collection. It’s a very cool process (both commissioning and making), something the Dec Arts department had never been able to do before—that collection had always focused on historic American and European material.
