On my way to see the exhibit Hear Me Now: The Enslaved Potters of Old Edgefield, I wandered through other galleries at Atlanta's High Museum and enjoyed a variety of exhibits, all reasonably 'contemporary' that ranged from seemingly pure whimsy to serious social and historical exploration.
Nabil Kanso's The Split, top, depicts the Civil War with images of human life, as well as the U.S., torn apart by the war in a way that reminded me of Picasso's Guernica. It's part of a triptych, with Bleeding Eagles on the left marking the forced migration of Georgia's native peoples from their lands and Chains Under the Blinding Sun exploring slavery and lynching.
Japanese artists Keita Morimoto, born in 1990, depicts a different sort of separation in In The Shadows, a 2022 work that depicts a shadowed world for his generation: young workers born during years of downturn with poor hopes for jobs at a time when wealth was increasing for Japan's wealthy class.
Moving from those pieces into a room dominated by Alex Katz's Winter Landscape 2 seemed almost like moving from crisis to a quiet dream world... at first glance. But the more I looked at the huge (10 foot by 20 foot) painting with its nearly photographic trees, the more I found the shadowy background almost unsettling, as if I'd been given only a moment's respite from the world.
How many of you are old enough to remember owning a Viewmaster, with its circular reels of color images of exciting far-away places? Viewmaster is the name of this 1988 work by Heide Fasnacht, although it doesn't look like the viewer of my memory. Fasnacht's father was a tool-and-die maker, and much of her work has an industrial look. It's made of graphite-coated plywood.
Remains of the Sun by Anselm Kiefer, a German artist, was inspired by brick kilns he saw in India, seems to mix together creation and destruction images. It's a modestly 3-dimensional work, combining different types of paint with shellac, burnt clay and sand on canvas.
A variety of whimsical objects, some of which may or may not be meant as furniture or toys and an assemblage titled You Can't Lay Down Your Memory Chest of Drawers, created by Dutch artist Tejo Remy as a work commissioned by the High in 2008.
Between the High's two main buildings there is a skyway bridge; part of this is designated as the Skyway Sculpture Court, and currently features a number of metal sculptures. Above, by Richard Dial, is The Comfort and Service My Daddy Brings to Our Household,, 1988. Dial, trained as a machinist, began creating wrought-iron furniture in the 1980s and branched into sculpture.
Richard Dial's father, Thornton Dial, Sr., also a skilled metal-worker had made sculptures before but hid or destroyed his early work; as a Black artist in an atmosphere of racial terror, he was afraid of retribution. Turkey Tower, left above, is from the 1980s, and is his earliest preserved work. At right, Nia's Parable by Ed Love, who taught art at Howard University.
Lonnie Holley, the artist who first introduced Thornton Dial and his work to collectors, has two pieces on display in the Skyway Court.
At left is What's on the Pedestal Today?, made with picture frames, wire, plastic tubing, a hairbrush, glue and other found objects. Holley says it's meant to ask questions about how we see ourselves.
Getting Wings for the 41st Floor is in memory of Lenore Gold, a patron who championed his work.
This work by Ronald Lockett is titled Once Something Has Lived it Can Never Really Die, a sentiment that you have to read from the label if you hope to find it in the work! Below that, the enigmatically-named Twisted Navel by Mark di Suvero.
And now a word—or several hundred—from our next artist, Howard Finster, who created this painting, What Is The Soul of Man, in 1976. Finster was both an artist and Baptist preacher; he created a folk sculpture garden in Georgia with over 46,000 pieces of art. If you're skeptical of the count, you can check the two images below; Finster was in the habit of keeping a running tally of his work on the doorposts of his house and similar locations.
The official final count is 46,991 pieces, including the various objects in the display below.
An untitled work by Joe Light, above, combines a number of elements, some not actually visible without a good label for clues. The materials include seashells, a defunct 1950s TV, Confederate currency, plastic plants and paint. Light said the work reflected his conversion to Judaism; the figure on the screen is a man with a bird on his head that represents "the spirit of God." Part of the work is unseen as well as untitled: Inside the TV set is a vase of flowers.
A final work for today: Chains in Paradise, by Joe Minter, whose work is meant to preserve memories of African civilizations destroyed by slavery. Made of discarded steel parts, it consists of a large urn filled with flowering forms shackled by chains.
About the High
The High Museum of Art is named for Harriet Harwell Wilson High, who gave her Peachtree Street mansion to the Atlanta Art Association in 1926 to use as a museum. The mansion is gone, replaced by the works of 'starchitects.' The 1983 building by Richard Meier won the Pritzker Prize; in 2005 it was joined by three new buildings by Renzo Piano. Not as large as the world's most famous museums, but it has a large and very varied collection, and is especially rich in works by Southern and African-American artists.
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