In this episode – exploring identity. The way artists look inward to create outward facing pieces and how artists also study the identity of those around them.
As a past exhibiting artist whose work is also part of PAMM’s collection, it was serendipitous to receive this gift during our Art + Soul celebration of the PAMM Fund for Black Art that took place on February 6, 2021. We were able to apply the donation to the Fund that supports? PAMM’s effort to?grow its collection with works by Black artists. Tremendous acts as these ensure that PAMM will continue to be able to represent the diversity of the community we serve while elevating the appreciation of African diaspora art and culture. It was announced during the program that Knight Foundation would match any gift made during the program toward the Fund, up to $100,000 doubling the impact of LIFEWTR and Adler’s already extraordinary donation.
Thanks to this gift and the continued donations of so many, our institution will be able to ensure that works by African American and African diaspora artists will always be represented in PAMM’s permanent collection for generations to come.
Spaced Out: Time is Art gathers a set of paintings, photographs, collages, sculptures, and other tridimensional works created during the pandemic by twenty artists residing in Miami and four guests from different cities of the continent of America: Buenos Aires, Santiago de Chile, Salvador, and New York. The dialog between multiple visions that configure different exit doors, further stresses the point that it is not only possible but also necessary to counter the freedom of artistic imagination to the current oppressive atmosphere.
The inquiry into the practices developed during 2020, the year in which the world was unexpectedly transformed, and we crossed, as never before, the threshold of post-truth, has led me to witness the “zeitgeist” or the spirit of the times: a good part of the collected works reiterates creative models and cultural visions that specifically respond to this period. Artistic creation is itself a way of giving time to the tasks of the imagination and, for those who live and work in isolated studios, the restrictions of the pandemic did not radically alter their routines but rather reaffirmed their dedication to creation. But it is no less true that numerous works emerge or were reoriented towards modes of reflection and transformative response to the challenges of the present. There is, for instance, a reiterated coincidence in the perceived fragility of the definitions of urban space, as much as a reaffirmation of our own subjective and sensitive presence through means of gestures; and without a doubt, a renewed awareness of the urgency of directing our gaze —and our steps— towards those animal and plant kingdoms being displaced by our voraciousness and our speed.
JB: My effort in this book is to try to shift the debate on nonviolence from an exclusively moral framework to a social and political one that is informed by ethics. The question of what you would do as an individual in this situation returns me to the moral framework. Of course, sometimes we function precisely in that way and ask: what do I do?
My answer is twofold: On the one hand, I would say that there are enormously forceful and aggressive forms of nonviolence that can be used to oppose state violence and police violence. It can be used to sort or undermine the capacities of violent institutions or violent individuals. I am in favour of that. I do not understand nonviolence as passive. I do not understand it as peaceable. I do not believe it emerges from some internal place of equanimity. Nonviolence can be raging and in fact it might be defined as a way of cultivating or redirecting rage in such a way that it does not reproduce the violence it opposes.