Walking through the European galleries, one is met with an overwhelming assortment of white bodies created by white (male) artists. I noticed that these galleries–reserved for historical works–are devoid of marginalized groups, and many of the examples we do have are limiting or off-view. Works depicting people of color are through the lens of a white artist and there are only a handful of works by women artists. I began to question, why isn’t RISD working to diversify their collection?
I seek to investigate how museums engage in the visibility of underrepresented people and subjects in works both on view in the gallery and off-view in their collections. Museums have the responsibility to recontextualize the works in their European galleries in ways that encourage inclusivity, subjectivity, and avoid censorship of sensitive subject matter. To exclude these things is to reinforce the erasure of marginalized subjects and artists and create a limiting narrative about the work.
After speaking with the museum's Curator of Painting and Sculpture, Maureen O’Brien, I learned that attempts to diversify our galleries is a complex and nuanced process. Charles-Henri-Joseph Cordier’s c. 1851 bronze bust African Venus exemplifies this.
Cordier’s bust depicts the likeness of a Black woman whom the artist modeled from life. Her angled shoulders suggest an asymmetric posture, shifting her thin drapery; she directs her gaze down to the side under lidded eyes and slightly parts her lips. One version of her exhibition label notes that she would have “appealed predominantly to European audiences drawn to exoticized representations of other cultures” and that the model’s expression and scant clothing would have bolstered those stereotypes. However, “the realism and pose create a strong impression of individuality and dignity.” African Venus has been read by many audiences as “sexualized” because of the fact that she was created by a male artist during a time when Black bodies were entwined with the exploitation of colonialism. However, this is only one narrative. In an issue of the museum's journal, Manual, educator, artist, and activist Becci Davis provided her own interpretation of African Venus based on her own experiences as a “daughter, mother, Souther, and descendant both of enslaved Americans and their exploiters.”1 In a series of letters written to objects in the collection featuring Black subjects, Davis writes of African Venus:
"You are the only object I remember from my first trip to this museum. It was in 2012. [...] You held me spellbound, mesmerized by your articulation of detail; tightly-coiled locs, drop earrings, soft rounded nose, full lips, coral necklace draped over bare shoulders, regal posture. You are stunning."2
Davis’s description of the object is incredibly different from viewers and curators who focused on the model’s vulnerability at the hands of the white artist. Instead, she resonates with and admires the woman’s sense of agency and “dignity,” defending herself against a gaze of subjugation rather than falling victim to it. Davis’s perspective highlights how sensitive subjects still hold value in the gallery. Removing the object limits it to only one interpretation and invalidates the perspectives of diverse audiences. It cements that the only narrative that matters is its controversy. It does not account for the joy and affirmation that Davis describes in her letter, something that other viewers also may have felt looking at this object. African Venus’s presence at the Salon of 1851-52 encapsulated many of the racist and misogynist ideologies that were prevalent during that time, but does the museum continue to perpetuate those views by keeping the work off-view, sequestering it to storage? Relegated to a bottom shelf, the regalness that Davis described in her letter is diminished and the already small bust appears even smaller.
Museums have a responsibility to be accountable for the controversial works and sensitive subject matter in their European collections without censorship. Recontextualization without revisionism could be a solution. Smithsonian Secretary and scholar Lonnie Bunch argues that museums must not shy away from controversy, but should “embrace” it, for “this allows museums to expand and alter their traditional role in American society.”3 Diversifying European collections can be challenging because the reality is that historical works by marginalized groups, and less subjective views of people of color and women, are a lot harder to come by; obtaining them can be a long-term process. However, that should not be an excuse to delay progress.
During a recent visit to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, I was fascinated by a large, empty gilded frame in their American gallery accompanied by a label that contextualized the void. It was titled “Who is Missing?” and paid tribute to the subjects that were typically not represented in American colonial paintings but were still very much culturally active:
“Should we see here the face of Crispus Attucks, the sailor of African and Natick Indian descent who became the first Patriot to die in the war? Or perhaps Phillis Wheatley, the young West African woman enslaved in Boston who became an internationally acclaimed poet, should be shown at her writing desk?”
Juxtaposed against everything else in the space, the empty frame serves as a focal point, using ‘emptiness’ as a metaphor for those who are unseen and in turn makes them visible. The frame also diversifies the collection by acknowledging that there are works that exist in the world depicting underrepresented subjects that the museum is unaware of or is unable to acquire. This curatorial strategy reimagines and recontextualizes what should be there.
Curators should also consider the overtness of visibility for underrepresented subjects. For example, visitors walking through the Euro gallery may overlook Lethière’s The Death of Camilla (1785) since its romanticized depiction of the mythological heroine conforms to the artistic conventions of the time. Without context acknowledging the race of the artist, no one would suspect that this “white” painting was created by a freed man of color. In contrast, Cordier–a white artist–created a closely observed bust of a Black woman. While some viewers were able to see themselves and identify with the model, they may also grapple with the sexualization of the woman at the discretion of a white artist. Moreover, Lethière’s legacy as a Black artist is concealed by the painting style he employs. I contend that works like African Venus and The Death of Camilla should have equal presence in the Euro gallery. It is important that curators work to unpack historical works as they are without feeling the urge to pair them with contemporary works. This would suggest that the only examples of diversity available are modern ones, further concealing the historical legacies of underrepresented artists and subjects.
While working as a curatorial intern in the Prints, Drawings, & Photographs, I observed that the subjects absent in the galleries were not necessarily absent from the overall collection. Increasing visibility in the museum will also mean increasing accessibility to objects that the public can’t see. Trying to fill ‘gaps’ in the collection with more collecting continues to bury examples of diversity that already exist. Curators should not only contextualize works that are on view like Lethière’s Death of Camilla, but also be transparent about the objects in storage collections such as Cordier’s Venus which highlight the narratives and subjects that visitors may have identified with had they been on display.
While working as a curatorial intern in the Prints, Drawings, & Photographs, I observed that the subjects absent in the galleries were not necessarily absent from the overall collection. Increasing visibility in the museum will also mean increasing access to objects that the public can’t see. Trying to fill ‘gaps’ in the collection with more collecting continues to bury examples of diversity that already exist. Curators should not only contextualize works that are on view, like Lethière’s Death of Camilla, but also be transparent about the objects in storage collections, such as Cordier’s Venus, that highlight the narratives and subjects that visitors may have identified with had they been on display.
The future of curating historical works in Western-European galleries hinges on rethinking how objects, people, and narratives from the past are made visible in galleries and collections. Curators must get creative, recontextualizing sensitive subjects without censorship, considering viewer subjectivity, and prioritizing accessibility.
Gabrielle Patrone was a 2023 IFPDA/Mellon Summer Intern in Prints, Drawings, and Photographs. Gabrielle graduated from Rhode Island College in 2023 with a BFA in Painting and Art History.