Welcome to ART ACTUALLY, an art column by me, Beth Krumholz of Oley, where each month I will share musings and discoveries vis-a-vis our local art scene.
This is really the art that I've been aching to see since George Floyd's murder. From Minneapolis, MN, to Reading, PA, to Washington, D.C., art is giving voice to what needs to be said. It also makes me think that those of us who work in the art world could be productively using this moment to revisit some of our preconceived notions of who artists are, how they make their art, who sees it, and under what circumstances. The 1960s taught us we could question all these things and more, and we learned that we could grow by shedding outmoded ideas. Of course, I long to get back to visiting art galleries and museums as soon as it's safely feasible to do so, but in the meantime our national crisis has delivered something for us all to look at and contemplate that is spontaneous, truthful and unique.
During one of the peaceful demonstrations that I witnessed downtown earlier this month, I began to notice how strikingly bold and beautiful the protest posters are. This is a movement happening all over the country that we are part of. In D.C., the protest signs are being left behind on a fence surrounding the White House. This has become its own monument to the change and healing we need. These signs are an invitation for hope. The posters hold a repetition of words that allow for meaningful dissemination of information. It is our right to use our shared public space for gathering, to be seen and heard.
We all need to express ourselves in order to make sense of the complexities of life. The simple act of making and using a poster of protest is critical in bringing our visions together, even if the messages arouse mutually contradictory emotions at the same time. These posters can be made by artists, families, students or elders. Whether silk-screened, painted, or simply done with Sharpie markers, they are pure, raw messages. The works of art I value most teach me something I didn’t know before. Disturbing and disarming all at once, the visuals that accompany our voices hold great power.
These important outcries are an aperture into each of us that also sing out to the world, and will indelibly shape the evolution of our future.
Beth Krumholz is a Berks County native. She is an educator, artist and poet. She has worked in the field of alternative art education for more than 20 years, from NYC to San Francisco. In her spare time, she enjoys Indian cooking, Appalachian waterfalls, tabletop herb gardening, and hanging out with her wonderful son and their mischievous cats. Photo: Jenny Schulder-Brant
