On October 25 and 26, the Arts Research Center at UC Berkeley and the California College of the Arts are partnering once again to host a live-streaming of the Creative Time Summit, an annual conference in New York that brings together cultural producers--including artists, critics, writers, and curators--to discuss how their work engages pressing issues affecting our world. To jump-start the conversation in advance of the event, attendees have been asked to submit a paragraph that touches upon the topics relevant to the summit's theme: Art, Place & Dislocation in the 21st Century City. This posting is by Lauren Kroiz, Assistant Professor in History of Art at UC Berkeley.
In this list of terms, I’m particularly interested in
dislocation. Unlike “art” and “place,” which I think of as solid nouns and
things in the world, “dislocation” invokes the action of dislocating. I wonder
about the obscured verb’s subject, object, and their relation. Is what I
experience as urban flux, mobility and vibrancy always also the cause of
dislocation for someone else? Can there be movement without
displacement?
I’ve spent much more time thinking about the relationship
between art and dislocation in cities of the 20th century than the 21st.
At the risk of perpetrating my own historical displacement of this year’s
theme, I’d like to consider a series of sixty paintings Jacob Lawrence finished
in 1941 to explore the notion dislocation.
You can see the odd numbered panels in this Flash
experience from the Phillips Collection:
and should be able to access the even numbers from
Lawrence’s MoMA record:
Entitled The Migration of the Negro, Lawrence’s paintings
envisioned the early twentieth-century movement of more than a million and a
half African Americans from the rural South to northern industrial centers.
Early panels chronicle the difficulties faced by blacks in the South, from boll
weevils to lynchings. Middle panels illustrate the opportunities found in
northern cities, but also show improved housing becoming increasingly scarce
and dilapidated. Bombs explode from the homes of migrants who try to move to
new parts of the city. Lawrence suggests the ways violence limited class
and racial mobility in the urban North as it had in the South. Ultimately
Lawrence envisions the results of the Great Migration as mixed; his migrants
contract tuberculosis in the crowded city, but also exercise the right to
vote.
I’m thinking of Lawrence because his abstracted forms and
narrative show African Americans dislocated from the South by white racism and
the failure of Reconstruction, but that’s only half of a story that also
includes active agency. African Americans moved themselves North to new
economic, political, and cultural opportunities and challenges. Lawrence
dramatizes the complex links between dislocation and mobility in this early
twentieth-century context.
Artists probably can’t take too much “credit” for
gentrification or control it (Lawrence couldn’t even keep his panels together).
But, I wonder if it is possible for art use its irrationality to hold two
views. Can we preserve the utopian promise of urban mobility even as we
critique the dislocation caused by that movement?
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