Saturday I got to visit the Durham farmer's market in the morning on Foster St. It is quite large. I couldn't buy much because I was going to be out in the heat all day, but I enjoyed sampling the cheeses and walking around. There was a woodworker there who had a beautiful red mulberry bowl that he turned from a burl on a mulberry tree that came down in a storm. Tempting, but it is not practical because as much as I move I cannot afford the luxury of simply decorative possessions-- they just get banged up in my moves and I don't even always have room to display them. Here's what it looked like for those of you who, like me, have never seen anything crafted out of mulberry wood:
In the afternoon, after synagogue, I went to see Barkley L. Hendricks' retrospective at the Duke University Nasher art museum. Here's the piece from it that the museum chose to advertise the exhibit around town-- "Misc. Tyrone (Tyrone Smith)":
The exhibit was recommended to me by my father (thanks Dad!) and was excellent. Hendricks does life size paintings of himself (several, showing his complexity), lovers, friends, students and even occasionally strangers. His work captures not just the person's expression, but almost their personality. My favorite painting was "Vendetta," because of the look of defiance it captures. (I don't know, I have a thing for artwork that captures anger, defiance, pride or some mixture of all three-- the first piece I ever bought by Kathryn DeMarco was titled, "Kiss My Black And White Patootie" or something like that).
Hendricks' work also reflects his social/political consciousness as a black man beginning his artistic career at the height of the black power movement. One piece that made me do a doubletake and then stop and think was his 1969 self portrait titled "Icon For My Man Superman (Superman never saved any black people-- Bobby Seale)." At first glance it shows Hendricks in sunglasses and a Superman t-shirt, but then the viewer realizes that from the waist down Hendricks is naked.
Another piece from the same year that I found intriguing was "Lawdy Mama," whose use of gold metallic leaf conjures up the obvious religious connotations. It harkens back to the first piece in the Nasher exhibit, and one of Hendricks' earliest works, "My Black Nun," depicting a curvy, sexualized young black nun. The intertwining of the religious themes with the afro hair style popularized during the Black is Beautiful movement brings up questions of what we revere and why, which images are emblazened on our consciousness, religious or otherwise.
Another amazing thing about Hendricks' work is that in several of the pieces the background and all of the person's clothes are all black or all white. With the little bit of drawing and painting that I've done in my life, I recognize how challenging it is to convey the folds and shadows of an object just using shades of black or white. The "limited palette" series, as Hendricks calls it, is technically very impressive as well as original.
I went to see Hendricks' show with my sister's friend, C, who, like her, is a PhD candidate in history and, like her, has a much more avid interest in art and is much more educated in that area than me (I never took a single art history class in college, and the only art class I took was a basic photography class). His comment to me about halfway through the exhibit was, "This guy is really good but I'd never even heard of him before!" His surprise struck me as a bit comical, and without thinking, I shot back, "Maybe 'cause he's black?" As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted saying them, especially since he was momentarily taken aback. I don't know what made me say that to him. I can only surmise that going back to NC for any length of time gets me in touch with my inner rage at the social injustices in the world that consumed so much of my energy in high school but has since simmered down to a less angry social consciousness.
After visiting the Nasher, C and I decided to ditch sightseeing and hit the back roads en route to my favorite swimming hole at the Eno River. We didn't have time to hike out to the best spot, so we just climbed in the river at the bottom of the parking lot and lay in the slowly flowing stream, enjoying the cool and peace and quiet. After aquiescing to my mother's and sister's requests that I be called to the Torah in synagogue ("have an aliyah"), it felt so liberating to strip off my confining silk dress and go skinny dipping in the Eno as I did so many times as a kid. That was definitely the highlight of my day. As I climbed out into the river, scrambling over the rocks, C made the comment that he could see the similarity to my sister-- that I was just as much a risk taker, just in different ways. She does travel to exotic places and living in a big city (NYC), I do tree climbing and testing the water in the river. This is the spot where I got in:
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