{"id":64518,"date":"2022-07-19T12:57:10","date_gmt":"2022-07-19T18:57:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/?p=64518"},"modified":"2022-07-20T20:54:00","modified_gmt":"2022-07-21T02:54:00","slug":"umoca-exhibit-embodies-autonomy-in-the-21st-century","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/umoca-exhibit-embodies-autonomy-in-the-21st-century\/","title":{"rendered":"UMOCA Exhibit Embodies Autonomy in the 21st Century"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Hakeem Olayinka, “She Looks Good in Red,” oil and acrylic on canvas, 48 \u00d7 25 \u00d7 1\/2 in.<\/p><\/div>\n

As a general rule, masks are intended to conceal the wearer\u2019s identity. Why, then, does Hakeem Olayinka routinely conceal the faces of his Nigerian subjects from view? Nigeria is a country that has seen its environment destroyed by outsiders seeking petroleum, even as its own government murders citizens who resist the depredation. One good reason for the artist\u2019s strategy, acknowledged by his proponents, is that the mask draws attention to the eyes of its wearer, such as the subject of “She Looks Good in Red.” In this painting, the hue of her face covering so closely matches that of the background that it effectively all-but beheads her, leaving her eyes and mouth floating in space. This has the paradoxical effect of dividing her in two, her body revealed by a tiny, cocktail-style dress while her face is modestly hidden. By juxtaposing these conflicting demands made on women to be objects of desire and virtue at the same time, Olayinka reveals a few of the many impossible demands women routinely face. But there\u2019s something else here. Prior to the conflict over how to participate in society, the mask recalls that most Black people and most women were faceless because they were excluded from participation in public life, and many, perhaps the majority, are still denied their autonomy. They are, in effect, seen by those in power as bodies to fulfill whatever purpose power requires of them, including to die when they get in the way of the powerful.<\/h4>\n

Art today frequently concerns such issues of identity and autonomy, but Olalinka\u2019s plea is delivered on an aesthetic level \u2014 in large part through the choice of visually powerful colors \u2014 not all such works achieve, or even aspire to. The same may be said for Madrona Redhhawk, a professional model who puts her own face at risk in her videos. Metaphorically updating the old “pie-in-the-face” vaudeville gag, this descendent of Choctaw, Creek, and Shawnee ancestors mocks online instructional videos with her own versions that inevitably go wrong, so that some elaborate ploy always ends up with her face “painted” in vivid colors. While there can be little question about her ultimate point, she refrains from heavy-handed moralizing in favor of a traditionally far more effective, because lighthearted, tactic in which she shares with viewers how her dignity comes from her character, from who she is, not what is done to her.<\/h4>\n