New York-based visual artist and painter Mickalene Thomas, who is known for embellishing her portraits of Black women with rhinestones and acrylic, currently has two shows running in the tristate area.
“Je t’adore,” at the Yancey Richardson gallery in Chelsea, includes 13 large-scale pieces featuring the Black female form.
With these pieces, Thomas features new work inspired by imagery of Black female erotica.
And over at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut, Thomas co-organized a multigallery installation called “Portrait of an Unlikely Space.”
That show includes 18th and 19th century portraits of African Americans, miniatures and silhouettes on paper, placed in rooms of the era and juxtaposed with modern pieces like Sula Bermúdez's 2021 replica of her childhood dollhouse, but made of sugar.
Thomas spoke to WNYC’s Alison Stewart on a recent episode of “All of It.” Below is an edited transcript of their conversation; you can listen to the entire interview here.
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Stewart: Part of your exhibition in New York City is inspired by research into the imagery of Black women from old Jet magazines. What do you remember about your first exposure to Jet?
Thomas: Oh my gosh. My first memory is just having the Jet magazine on the coffee table, and flipping through and being so enamored with the “Beauty of the Week” page.
Seeing these incredible women in their bathing suits, but just talking about who they were and what they did. It really gave me a sense of agency and validation.
I think it was probably one of the first times I felt like, "Oh, this is beauty. Oh, these are beautiful Black women on this page." That excited me.
Jet magazine displayed all of this knowledge about Black life, Black America, whether it was sociopolitical, cultural, entertainment or even about local people. Then it had this page of this college girl describing her attributes and what she liked.
That's why our parents left it out. They wanted to make sure we had exposure to it, especially if you were in spaces that were predominantly white.
Absolutely. I think that was important. It was known as the “Black Bible.” If you didn't have it on your table or in your home, I think Black families would look at you like something was wrong with you.
Now, tell me about this other magazine, the '50s French publication, Nus Exotiques, that also inspired your work.
I go to France a lot, and I've been looking for imagery that related to the diaspora in a different way, and how other Black bodies are seen in the world, and how we see ourselves, and how we are personified or portrayed and desired by the other.
Once I found this, what excited me was that some of the images felt very sculptural, but also about a different type of desire from the gaze of the photographer, Giamatti.
Like how he was looking at these Black bodies in a sensual way that was not necessarily about eroticism, but more about putting them in a place of "other," but in a way that I found empowering, even though they were just being looked at from a male's gaze. It was sensual, but it was also about fetishization of the Black body in a sense.
This leads to my next question. When you first walk into the gallery, the first thing you notice is the women are all nude. They're not naked – they're nude.
No, they're definitely not naked.
What's the difference in your mind?
"Naked" feels more about a sexuality or erotica in a sense that could lean more on the pornographic. Whereas the nude is really about the body, a celebration of how we see ourselves. It doesn't fall in a line with exploitation.
For me, even though these images really fall in the middle, in some sense, because of how they were portrayed and what these images were for. We have to be real. They were...
Meant for someone else's pleasure?
Meant for someone else's pleasure, but they were monthlies. They were calendars and they were displayed nude. But what I found really fascinating about the images, specifically the ones from the '70s, is that there was also this uncomfortable way in which the women were portrayed and also the photographers. It's like: “We are going to show some of this nudity, but we're also going to have some tongue-in-cheek way of talking about sexuality, knowing that they couldn't show the woman's pubic hair. Because they couldn't do that, they would use plants in front.
There's a lot of strategic...
… strategic placement and it would be like, the bush in front of the bush. To me, there was some humor in it, in terms of how we see ourselves and how bodies are displayed.
The other show we're going to talk about, “Mickalene Thomas, Portrait of an Unlikely Space,” is on display through Jan. 7, up in New Haven at Yale. It revolves around this small watercolor portrait, “Rose Prentice.” That’s the woman's name?
Yes.
It's by the artist, Sarah Goodridge. Tell us a little about the origin of this little portrait and this woman who's just looking out at us.
Oh, my gosh. She is so magnificent and beautiful. When I first saw this image, when Keely Orgeman introduced me to the work, I was a little shy about coming into understanding these images from the Emancipation period, because it's not necessarily where my work stems from, that particular period, but there’s some narrative around the origin of this work.
Rose Prentice was a domestic worker, and the family that she worked for had her portrait painted by a local painter. Obviously, Rose Prentice's family does not own this piece; the family that Rose Prentice worked for owns this particular portrait of her. But what I found fascinating is the love and care and detail of what they wanted to portray her as, not a domestic worker.
She's very present.
She's very present. She's in her Sunday best, but it also speaks about perhaps the perception and the love, or the care, that they understood that she was giving them as a domestic worker, that this family wanted to include her in particular family of portraits and that they had this for her, although it wasn't a gift.
Often, these portraits from the Emancipation period in the 19th century, portraits of Black people, some of them are unknown and nameless, and some of them are just by the jobs that they were doing.
But the fact that you also know a little of the history of Rose Prentice is, for me, very empowering and a testament to some of the dynamics of the relationships and complexities that we have with Black and white families.
When you look at how this is painted on ivory, every part of the material is painted in the same way that they would have their own portrait painted.
It's with the care, the framing of it, the care that they took of it, how it's boxed, the little detail of the paintbrush. There's a lot of love in this portrait.
How did you design the show around this particular piece?
I decided to design the show in a way that allows the viewer to come in as if they were entering a domestic space. It was very important for me, even with Keely Orgeman, to think about how the viewer would engage with each piece, each of the works in the show, whether it's the contemporary work or the other portraits that we have, like embedded into the wall to make you feel like you were very intimately engaged with the piece, one at a time. When you walk in, you have the option to sit and be in a domestic setting and really experience the Rose Prentice portrait one-on-one. So that each person can have their own time with each portrait.
What do you like about being a curator?
I'm able to engage in conversation with other artists that have fascinating ideas, outside of my own, and that I'm able to provide a platform of community for them.
I heard you use the word “shy” to describe yourself.
I did?
Yes. Are you a shy person?
I am a little shy. I am. I have this persona, I think, because I'm quite tall. I am expressive. I like to wear really incredible, interesting, fashionable clothes, but I think that's how I express myself. Outwardly, I'm an extrovert, but mostly I'm much more introverted.
When I'm among my friends, I'm boisterous and I'm comfortable, but when I'm not, I pull back and I observe.
I think it just has to do a lot with how I actually was raised and grew up, that it was always oscillating between these worlds and having to figure out how to interact with people.
You can see "je t’adore" at the Yancey Richardson gallery until Nov. 11. You can also see "Portrait of an Unlikely Space" in New Haven through Jan. 7, 2024.
