Malcolm X: the artists' view - Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, Massachusetts

Art in America, May, 1994 by Ann Wilson Lloyd

The ICA recently hosted a traveling show in which the black leader is presented as a cultural phenomenon.

All politics are ultimately local, to paraphrase two local legends, one of whom was known during his Boston days as Malcolm Little.(1) Political art (to say nothing of art politics) is essentially local, too, as Boston's Institute of Contemporary Art has recently shown in its dual exhibitions centered on Malcolm X. While former ICA director David Ross and his chief curator, Elisabeth Sussman, (both now at the Whitney Museum) were frequently criticized here for their international-trend-following shows, which were regarded as ignoring New England artists, Milena Kalinovska, who succeeded Ross in 1992, diplomatically gives the Ross/Sussman regime credit for establishing the ICA's reputation as an international player. Now, she says, she has the luxury of redeveloping grass-roots connections to ground that reputation.

Kalinovska, along with ICA curator Matthew Teitelbaum (who has since moved on to the Art Gallery of Ontario, in Toronto), took on a national touring show and used it to engage Boston's black community. "Malcolm X: Man, Ideal, Icon" was organized by Kellie Jones for the Walker Art Center; its three segments consist of speech excerpts and documentary photographs, art works interpreting Malcolm's image by 12 nationally known artists or groups, and recent merchandise adapting that image for popular culture. Here it was supplemented by a completely Boston-born show, "On the Subject: Voices from Massachusetts," which paralleled the touring show in format and size while it added ambitious public programming.

Taking a cue from the fact that Malcolm X lived an early part of his life in Boston and still has relatives here, Kalinovska and Teitelbaum drew upon special consultants from the local black community to help curate an exhibition loosely built around an examination of Malcolm's time in Boston and his enduring legacy. Along with didactic displays, there were paintings, prints and sculptures dating largely from the '60s and before; recent mixed-medium installations; and social-outreach-type collaborative projects. The local show included a time line of his life enhanced with videotaped commentary; like the national show it also offered videos of hip-hop music--here in a street documentary put together by local youth.

All this was accomplished despite the fact that Kalinovska does not have the budget Ross once enjoyed. The ICA has suffered greatly in the economic recession, sustaining deep staff and program cuts. But it was the public programming, rather than the somewhat uneven gallery show, that probably most strengthened the ICA's local ties. Scheduled throughout the duration of the exhibition were panel discussions such as "Malcolm, Black Men, Black Leadership" and "Women Speak on Malcolm." These not only brought first-time audiences to the ICA but enabled many of Boston's black business, religious, media and political leaders (including several who knew Malcolm X personally), as well as academics, activists and even rap groups, to cross paths publicly. The panels were lively--confrontational, enlightening, sometimes preachy. They demonstrated more effectively than the visual displays the complex layerings and controversies surrounding Malcolm X--the evolutions of his spiritual and political beliefs, his break with the Nation of Islam, the assassination conspiracy theories, etc.--while firsthand accounts and scholarly analyses illuminated Malcolm's messages, as well as his intelligence and charisma.

The ICA made a strong bid to engage young people in this discourse, and it was both gratifying and disturbing to see how a generation heavily influenced by popular culture reacted. There were informal gallery talks featuring student-activist groups, a terrific docent program of innercity youth who led gallery tours, and artist/student collaborative projects. The varying results of these programs--an excellent, hard-hitting video of on-the-street interviews about Malcolm X, audio tapes of fresh and original poetry, rather hackneyed visual installations--were incorporated into the gallery exhibition alongside the work by established artists.

But an outreach project involving teenage girls raised questions about social responsibility. This project produced a large wall piece in which pages tom from The Autobiography of Malcolm X were mixed with statements from the project participants. The work was conceptually similar to the sleekly minimal Tim Rollins and K.O.S. piece in the touring show, By Any Means Necessary. Nightmare (1986), but more bulletin-board-like. A poignantly confused statement from a 15-year-old described how reading about Malcolm X had influenced her: "I became a mother because I felt ready. He became a Muslim because he thought he was ready." Given the push to have students view this show, did the prominent display of such words represent the granting of artistic license to young people, as the curators claimed, or was it an irresponsible, validation on museum walls? (Malcolm X strongly advocated mature two-parent families.)