American Sublime: Recognition of the Black American Dream

American realism, a movement concentrated on authentic depictions of everyday occurrences and scenery through literature and visual art, has played a central role in constructing modern American culture. Through realism, artists have called attention to social injustice by framing their subject matter objectively, without the romance of sentimentalism or the drama of exaggeration. Artistic expression through realism has knitted through the fabric of the American national identity, contributing to definitions of American values and cultivating the aesthetic of ordinary life and people.

However, there are some gaps in this narrative. The gloomy depictions of the Great Plains, dull expressions of laborers tired from the workday, and stillness of urban neighborhoods pierced by harsh lighting—all images that come to mind when one visualizes the legacy left by realism—omit vital parts of American history and culture, starting with the omission of people of color as subject matters despite their vital contributions to the nation throughout history. Artist Amy Sherald’s gray faces force us to face it.

Currently residing among the Whitney’s collection is the modern realism exhibit American Sublime, running through August 10th. There, the bold and bright portraiture of Amy Sherald demands its own sphere in American realism. It provides the genre with a facet that has been long overdue.

Sherald’s work has received substantial attention and renowned status in the art world. Although she utilizes familiar, popular realist techniques and styles, her portraits are still striking and unique for a few reasons. Firstly, while her composition is planar, saturated, and direct, her subjects possess a vulnerability of expression that creates an intimate relationship between the viewer and piece. Their eyes look right at the viewer, creating a bond between art and beholder, and Sherald captures within their face the rawness of discomfort, awkwardness, and dignity all in one. Second, Sherald draws inspiration from a variety of films, pop culture, and literature, borrowing from them iconographies of magical realism and fantasy. A piece titled Miss Everything (Unsuppressed Deliverance) (2014) bears a comically large teacup in reference to Alice in Wonderland; her gigantic painting If You Surrendered to the Air, You Could Ride It (2019) renders a single man on an iron beam high in the sky in saturated hues and references the iconic 1932 photograph Lunch atop a Skyscraper. Thirdly—perhaps the most potent of Sherald’s artistic implementations—she only depicts Black Americans. This revolves back to the central question of the exhibit: “What is American?” Sherald forcefully confronts the absence of people of color in American realism and demands we make space for them. 

The fifth floor of the Whitney’s high white walls, illuminated by expanses of riverside windows, provides an absolutely ideal space for these grand portraits. The exhibit takes up the entire floor, allowing for each painting to be spaced out on every wall. This physical distance allows a museum goer to walk some four or five paces between each piece, making the intensity of each individual canvas’ gaze unobstructed and clear. For every piece, the demeanour of each painted face relates to introspection. The portraits are not intended to be conventionally viewed and contemplated by the observer; instead, one witnesses a character on canvas that is independent of the viewer’s interpretation, possessing their own personality and passion. The five paintings in the exhibit’s start, distributed along a long curved wall, are of lounging and posing figures on bold solid backgrounds. Their titles, as with the titles of many of the works Sherald creates, range from fragments of poetry, like the work titled Listen, you a wonder. You a city of a woman. You got geography of your own (2016) from Lucille Clifton and song lyrics to whimsical labels like Saint Woman (2015). These pieces set the tone for the rest of the exhibit: tranquil while still vivid. 

Sherald uses a wide range of brilliant colors within her pieces and situates most of her portraits on a background of either marbled or solid hues. The clothes and accessories of her subjects maintain this brightness of pigment, but their faces are always painted in black and white gradient. This remoteness in composition serves to make the bright portions of every painting stand out, but Sherald’s main objective in doing this is to draw attention away from the color of her subject's skin, instead forcing the viewer to look beyond race and into what else is truly gripping about the art.

The labyrinth-like nature of the space makes the exhibit feel limitless, yet the expressions on every canvas are particular and individual. In one room, parallel video projections illustrate Sherald’s creative process from beginning to end. She begins with an idea, either to portray a social commentary or act on inspiration by an old photo of her grandmother. Once she assembles her models with props and costumes and has adjusted their poses with meticulous attention, she takes a photo. The actual painting is a replica of the photograph she took, with the expressions of her own artistic style.

Sherald’s two most famous commissions are on view in her exhibit: First Lady Michelle Obama (2018), her official portrait of Michelle Obama created for the former First Lady’s painting in the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery, and her portrait Breonna Taylor (2020) done for Vanity Fair. The lives of both women depicted are stories that challenge a narrow conception of the American Dream and the identity we derive from it—the theme at the core of Sherald’s entire life’s work. The recognizable faces induce strong feelings of ardour, but most of the exhibit’s subjects are ordinary Americans. The pathos of Sherald’s faces, strangers to us, shape Sherald’s thesis: the American identity is complex and vast; it is not monolithic when considered in the context of the diverse range of people who can claim it. Sherald asserts that Black Americans are the livers and breathers of the American Dream and create their own spaces for recognition.