Exhibition Summary: The Light of Truth
The Light Of Truth (2023) is a series of mixed media works by artist Nicole Dixon, highlighting themes from the life and work of the pioneering investigative journalist and civil rights icon Ida B. Wells, which are germane to the Black community’s fight for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness today. Dixon uses charcoal black archetypal figures, natural emblems, and cultural/spiritual symbols to draw an uncomfortably seamless line linking the racialized violence of the past to the racialized violence of the present—in all of its forms. This series is especially poignant today, given the pervasive climate of ignoring uncomfortable/inconvenient truths, re-writing history, and allowing cognitive dissonance to block empathy and basic human decency—even as the deadly truth is recounted and replayed on the daily news.The purpose of this exhibition is to illuminate, once again, the root causes of the violence that Black people have always faced and resisted in this country (and beyond), because, as Wells stated, “The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.” Dixon’s aim as an artist is to illuminate while alchemizing the suffering—finding the beauty, affirming the purpose, and highlighting the transcendent power inherent in the struggle. Her figures also combat the narratives imposed on Black bodies that continue to claim so many lives, as she presents the unapologetic Black body as it truly is—empowered, rooted in culture, whole, abundant, and spiritual.
This series was commissioned by Chromatic Black, a collective of multi-disciplinary artists whose mission is to disrupt the master narrative through good storytelling. Dixon began this process with a period of research, including an interview with Paula J. Giddings, author of the consummate biography A Sword Among Lions: Ida B. Wells And The Campaign Against Lynching. She then outlined seven anchor pieces: three that unpack the act of lynching itself, one that synthesizes Wells’s life in portraiture, and the last three that address themes from Wells’s lived experience as a Black woman. Dixon calls attention to the well-documented underlying causes of this continued violence—fear of Black collective power, controlling Black upward mobility, and the myth of the hyper-sexual Black male—and she explores the concurrent themes of Black joy, intersectionality, and deliverance.Dixon created the seven anchor pieces simultaneously, with a layered mixed media technique. The acrylic backgrounds and magazine paper cityscapes form the base of each painting. All of the figures are rendered with charcoal, and their clothes assembled with collaged fabrics. The bird and flower totems are painted in watercolor, with the exception of the large graphite raven. Each element has symbolic or cultural significance, amplifying the theme of the piece and the power of each figure.
The reliquary installation allows viewers to confront in a more concrete way one of the most disturbing aspects of racialized violence—the taking and selling of lynching souvenirs. The items in the vintage containers are what lynch mob masses fought to retrieve or purchase to have a keepsake from the murders, and there are countless Black body parts hidden in white attics/basements today. Dixon uses art as ritual to reclaim, in effigy, the wholeness of those ancestors, heal their trauma, and help their spirits rest. The winged heart presents a spell from the ancient Egyptian Book Of The Dead as a touchstone for keeping one’s heart as light as a feather throughout all the suffering and trauma faced, in order to protect both our ancestors’ and our own spirits. The Ties That Bind series uses quotes by Baldwin and Lilla Watson to explore the way that oppression binds the oppressor and the way that trauma and healing alike can be passed through families and communities. The timelines depicting one generation and notable lifetimes prove that we are living in the immediate aftermath of slavery; it is not ancient history. The truths illuminated throughout this exhibition demonstrate that we who do not know (or who refuse to know) our past are condemned to repeat it.
Riot Of The Intangible Army
Summary:
In the first of three pieces addressing lynching, the trope of an ever-imminent Black riot is subverted by the concept of ancestral presence. Ida B. Wells noted one of the common excuses white people used to justify lynching (of one person or of hundreds) was to prevent or quell a “race riot.” Her investigation into these cases revealed that not only was there not one instance of Black rioters, but white men were the instigators, and the impetus was, in fact, the perception that a Black person somehow stepped out of their place. Today, the narratives imposed on Black bodies can still be a death sentence. However, Dr. Zhaleh Boyd Phillips wrote that one significant way Black people can cope with the ever-present violence against our community is to acknowledge the biological evidence of ancestral presence and recognize our martyred as a powerful “intangible army” we can access—this piece illustrates and honors that ancestral force.
Although the rope in this piece attempts to constrain them, a contingent of ancestors emerges from the beyond to stand behind, fortify, and channel through the central figure. In Zulu tradition, the bateleur eagle, who beats its wings to signal the birth of creation, symbolizes the alpha/omega, while the black-chested snake eagle represents “victory over a vicious and pitiless world.” The birds accompany him as he wields the African dream root, which is traditionally used in Southern Africa as a tea to induce vivid dreams and connect one with the ancestral realm. He is anointed with the golden Adinkra symbol Woforo Dua Pa A, which represents support and cooperation. It is associated with the proverb “when you climb a good tree, you are given a push,” which in this piece refers to the righteous cause of Black empowerment being supported by our ancestors. So, while the fear of those who look at one Black person and see a threatening multitude is unfounded, perhaps a healthy dose of awe and trepidation for the unseen who walk with us is justified.
Upward Bound - Through The Devil’s Claw
Summary:
The second of three pieces addressing lynching depicts the undeniable motive behind the history of white violence against Black people—Black upward mobility as a threat to white domination. Ida B. Wells painstakingly chronicled years of lynching cases, where the motives were revealed to range from a Black person (or a Black community) financially thriving to a Black person being too “uppity” to show a white person the degree of deference they expected. The person labeled offensive would be killed, and any number of random Black people that lynchers stumbled upon while searching for the offender were also slain. Yet, during enslavement and post-emancipation until today, Black people have managed to make tremendous individual and collective advancements and countless vital contributions to this country. This piece is a visual representation of the indomitable Black community.
The central figure is connected to a higher realm by a gilded stream of light. He is haloed by the devil’s claw plant, selected for both its foreboding name (a reflection of his/our precarious environment) as well as for its healing properties as a pain reliever and anti-inflammatory. His totem that soars and shifts into human form is the long-tailed bush shrike, which in Zulu tradition is the “scatterer of enemies.” The background figures that leap into flight are rendered in cosmic silhouette as they pass beyond the rope attempting to contain them. This piece is a tribute to the prevailing Black spirit and a recognition that every accomplishment, every victory, every ounce of freedom is hard won.
That Old Threadbare Lie
Summary:
The third of three pieces addressing lynching highlights one of the most controversial aspects of Ida B. Wells’s investigative research—the myth of the hyper-sexual Black man. She painstakingly investigated years of lynching cases where Black men were accused of the rape, attempted rape, or “insulting the honor” of a white woman or girl. While detailing the hundreds of cases where Black men were clearly innocent or never got the chance to prove their innocence, she wrote, “Nobody in this section of the country believes the old threadbare lie that Negro men rape white women...”
This piece is both an homage to the countless unnamed who suffered at the hands of this fallacy and a call to examine the ways in which mythology around the sexuality of Black men and women impacts us today. The central figure wears a garment with a cowrie shell print—cowries were used as divination tools in Africa but perversely/inversely used by white enslavers to purchase Black people. He is crowned by the okra plant, native to Africa and associated with fertility. He stands before a helix arc of Black nude vignettes, alluding to the sexual exploitation of Black men and women. He holds up a mirror, which represents both a challenge for white people to take an honest look at themselves and an invitation for Black people to redefine themselves and reclaim their authentic identities.
Turn The Light Of Truth Upon Them
Summary:
This portrait of Ida B. Wells synthesizes the facets of her life and work that make her an international and cultural luminary. Not only did she write that “The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them,” but she lived that way—making it her mission to illuminate even the most uncomfortable and inconvenient truths.
Beams of light radiate from her countenance in all directions, and she is backed by the golden Adinkra symbol for independence, freedom, and emancipation—Fawohodie, which is named for the expression “Fawodhodie ene ombre na enam,” meaning “Independence comes with its responsibilities.” Ida B. Wells worked for freedom, equity, and justice with a profound sense of responsibility to and for Black people. Although she remains largely an unsung hero, her contributions are critical for our struggles today, and the impact of her legacy cannot be overestimated.
Come Celebrate With Me That Everyday Something Has Tried To Kill Me And Has Failed
Summary:
With its title as a line from a Lucille Clifton poem, this piece highlights the abiding joy that permeated Ida B. Wells’s life and, likewise, the persistence of Black joy despite all that has tried to annihilate us. She was raised in a loving family, who invested in her education and thrived in spite of enslavement and post-emancipation oppression. She delighted in the pleasures of fashion, books, the arts, and socialization. She savored time spent at gatherings of the critical-thinking vanguard and stayed aflame with inspiration for advancing the Black cause. She rejoiced in her supportive marriage to Ferdinand Barnett, a fierce cultural activist in his own right, and found joy in the love they provided for their children. Today, as much as Black suffering is on display across every news channel, Black joy, ingenuity, and creativity are equally significant realities and powerful testaments to the failures of white supremacist objectives.
The central figure’s smile radiates, as does the variegated golden column of light, joy, and omnipotence streaming into and out from her crown. In its center hovers a sparrow, a multicultural symbol with many meanings, including joy, communalism, and the divine significance of even the smallest among us. Her cloak depicts two Adinkra symbols: Kwatakye Atiko—the Akan war captain’s hairstyle symbolizing bravery, fearlessness, and valor—and Dwinnemmen—the ram’s horns representing strength and humility. Her open hands float the sacred geometry symbol the Flower of Life, a 6,000-year-old pattern from the temple of Osiris representing the cycle of creation and the interconnectedness of all life. She exists along a liminal space between serene surroundings and an ominously topsy-turvy (ass-backwards) realm, which she has transcended. She stands flanked by calla lilies, which are native to Africa, can purify both water and air, and have a variety of meanings in many cultures, including purity, peace, resurrection, and eternal life. This piece is a salutation to the transcendent power of abiding Black joy.
What The Mirror Said
Summary:
Like the eponymous Lucille Clifton poem, this piece addresses the Black woman’s experience of intersectionality and interlocking systems of oppression. Ida B. Wells had to contend with the external oppression of individual, communal, and structural racism and misogyny, as well as combat oppressive forces within the Black community.
The central figure depicted here, although naked and vulnerable to the onslaught of many hands reaching towards her, is tethered, equipped, and guided. The protea flowers at her crown symbolize primal power and resilience. The crested guinea fowl feather she wields is from a sacred bird of protection. The gilded stream of light that pours in through her crown from the unseen realm gives her a clear line of sight, charts her way forward, and takes shape in the Adinkra symbol Owo Foro Adobe, or the snake climbing the raffia tree. This piece serves as both a metaphor for resilience and a reflection on the hands that offer support along our paths.
What the Mirror Said
By Lucille Clifton
listen,
you a wonder.
you a city
of a woman.
you got a geography
of your own.
listen,
somebody need a map
to understand you.
somebody need directions
to move around you.
listen,
woman,
you not a noplace
anonymous
girl;
mister with his hands on you
he got his hands on
some
damn
body!
Gather My Race In My Arms And Fly Away
Summary:
The title of this piece is an excerpt from Ida B. Wells’s diary entry, when at 21 years old she sued a train company that kicked her off for refusing to give up her first-class ticket and move to the “smoking” colored car. She won her case, only to have the ruling overturned when the train company appealed to the state supreme court, which stated they believed her motives for suing were “not in good faith.” Thus, she wrote:
“I felt so disappointed because I had hoped such great things from my suit for my people generally. I have firmly believed all along that the law was on our side and would, when we appealed to it, give us justice. I feel shorn of this belief and utterly discouraged, and just now if it were possible I would gather my race in my arms and fly away with them.”
This piece is an ode to this universally Black moment—when, face to face with injustice without recourse, a particular yearning for deliverance arises. It is also a tribute to that which makes Ida B. Wells remarkable—she sacrificed herself for her people at every turn, never leaving them behind when she could have sought out safety and comfort for herself alone. Instead, time after time, when hundreds of Black people were fleeing cities raging with white mob violence, she rode alone into the epicenters to investigate and document. When many Black contemporaries were relying on the myth of Black exceptionalism, she opened her own doors and built the Negro Fellowship League for those struggling the most (wandering the streets penniless, publicly inebriated, or selling their bodies to survive).
The central figure cradles a raven, with Black faces melded into its feathers, and on her arm she bears the Adinkra symbol for cooperation and interdependence, Boa Me Na Me Mmoa Wo—“help me and let me help you.” The raven, a highly intelligent bird, has a variety of meanings in many cultures. Its lustrous black feathers allude to the deep mysteries of the mystical world, making it a symbol of prophecy and insight, death, and rebirth.
Together, the woman and her bird face a golden abyss, which beams in opposition to the cityscape below. The sacred geometry symbol across the sky represents the headspace that inspires and powers their journey. Metatron’s Cube is named after the archangel, whose predecessor is Thoth (Tehuti), the Egyptian scribe and deity of knowledge, wisdom, and judgment. Its very shape contains all five Platonic solids, and it symbolizes the entire record of human experiences. This sojourner, with a precise and deep knowledge of this country’s pathological cruelty, gathers her people to seek physical, mental, and spiritual refuge.