The genre of portraiture is considered to have begun in Greek and Roman art. However, as more attention and interest is given to non-Western cultures and the art they produced, the term “portraiture” has become more flexible in the field of art history. Portraiture, in this expanded definition, no longer refers only to exact physiognomic representations. With the expanded definition, art historians can begin to consider how non-Western rulers used art to convey their concepts of identity, socio-political roles, and their divine right to rule. This paper evaluates two examples of royal and religious portraiture in the ancient Near East, and offers insight into how Near Eastern rulers used easily identifiable iconography to communicate their identities to a broader audience. This paper draws on theoretical writings that evaluate the origins and functions of portraiture in an effort to better understand how art historians currently understand and evaluate portraiture in the field of art history. This paper offers an in depth analysis of Gudea with the Gushing Vase (c. 2120-2110 BCE) and Stele of the Code of Hammurabi (c.1793-1750 BCE) as prime examples of royal portraiture from the ancient Near Eastern world and gives insight into how the symbols employed in the pieces aid in the narrative that each ruler is attempting to create for themselves.

The Mediterranean was the epicenter for trade during the ancient era. With routes ranging from Greece, Egypt, Jordan, and Crete, the influence from these individual societies ended up spreading throughout the world, much like the goods they traded. This influence can particularly be seen through art. Whether it is the orientalism from the Near East found in Archaic Greek kouroi, or the Hellenistic architectural characteristics found in the city of Petra, the impact of these civilizations was profound. To better understand the ancient world, these interactions through trade should be emphasized more. Trade not only affected the way goods were produced, advertised, and sold, but also contributed to the dispersion of art techniques, languages, and stories. Ideas and stories spread like wildfire and were often portrayed in art. This can be seen in the similarities of gods and goddesses worshipped across the world with one another and their depictions in art and architecture. Art not only spread these ideas and stories but kept them alive for centuries. The introduction of new tools, styles, and mediums dispersed through the ancient era ended up guiding artists centuries after the creation of these new techniques. The characteristics of these civilizations appear in other ancient works of art and are significant proof in demonstrating how art uniquely connects and inspires people no matter the era.

This project explores the connection between the coinage of Ancient Greece and contemporary design used in branding. Logos are what consumers associate with brands today and play a huge role in the way a company is recognized. While the practices used in graphic design are typically traced back to the Bauhaus school in Germany, this project looks at ancient numismatics as a way to trace branding practices back to antiquity. Each city in Ancient Greece had coinage that was unique to the area with different imagery that stood as a representation of the city. By using the American Numismatic Society’s database, I was able to sort through a wide array of coins from all over Greece and Italy. This process of collecting visual and geographic data highlighted patterns on the coinage. From there I was able to pinpoint locations to focus on and research deeper to understand the evolution of the city’s “brand”. The project focuses on coins that use the imagery of Apollo, Artemis, Dionysus, Satyrs and Gorgons. The analysis for each image is narrowed down to a specific city or region and focuses on the cultural ties that link the images on the coinage to the location. The patterns found on these coins parallel the techniques that designers use in branding in the current day. The images on the coins were intentionally thought out and tied to the historical, political, and religious context that made each city unique. This created a visual language that is comparable to the way logos are used today. Overall, this project illustrates the unique connections that can be found within design and art history.

This paper examines the ritual practices of different chthonic cults across the ancient Mediterranean by studying the ceramic evidence from each site. The sites that are discussed are Atsipadhes Korakias and Ayios Yeoryios sto Vouno (Crete and Kythera), Eleusis and the City Eleusinion (Greece), Pyrgi (Italy), Abydos (Egypt), and Tavira (Iberia). These sites cover a broad geographical range of the ancient Mediterranean and reflect the religious practices of different cultures, including the Minoans, Greeks, Egyptians, Etruscans, and Romans. By examining sites across a broad geographic range, I show the interconnected nature of the ancient Mediterranean and the influences different peoples had on one another. I also look at a variety of geographic locations and ritual practices to consider how these cultures interacted within their ritual settings and the shared religious customs of the ancient Mediterranean. In particular, I consider the form, function, and decoration of ceramic vessels from each cult site. Ceramic vessels are significant because they offer evidence for ritual activity that otherwise does not survive in the archaeological record. By examining the pottery from these sanctuaries, I analyze the shared or different ritual practices at each site and look at how these customs influenced each other through patterns of exchange. The evidence from each sanctuary is significant for understanding the diversity of cultural practices in the ancient Mediterranean and understanding the cultural and political interactions between different subcultures in the broader region.

Memory and images were integral to Roman culture. To avoid oblivion in the afterlife, the ancient Romans would erect artworks, from small portraits to colossal monuments, commemorating high-ranking politicians and lost loved ones. Attacking images for the intentional erasure of one’s memory, then, became a tool of revenge. For the elites of Rome, it was also a politically strategic tool to use against their enemies. This image alteration practice became known in scholarship as damnatio memoriae. As much as scholars have chronicled this practice, its ending amongst the elites has been unclear. Was it the 4th or the 6th century that saw the last of the ancient practice? What caused the practice to disappear? The answers to these questions have not been the focus of scholarship so far, yet they may reveal a lot regarding the impact of changing Roman culture and politics. This paper’s investigation into the final act of damnatio memoriae will reveal the consequences of an era of instability and the advent of a new official religion in Rome.

This paper examines the way in which the figural floor mosaics in the House of the Faun functioned individually and collectively in the viewer’s experience of the overall villa. While the Alexander mosaic has been the locus of much analysis in the Pompeiian residence, bringing this work into context within the floorplan and the other mosaics creates a more accurate assessment of their impact on the ancient Roman. By elucidating the research on the villa’s design plan and the mosaics’ location within this, we may bring them out of the museum and return them back into their intended environment; that is, to be seen underfoot and as part of a larger whole. This paper will then explore the disparate subjects of the mosaics, from Nilotic landscapes to Dionysiac theater masks, and how this variability contributes to the richness of the home. Each mosaic simultaneously guides the visitor to the function of the space, from elevated discussion in an exedra to fine dining in a triclinium, and transports them visually into a new reality. The final section of the paper will discuss how the physical act of walking on and around these mosaics both disrupts this illusion and reinforces it. The viewer both understands the falseness of the image which he steps upon, and also becomes involved in the mosaic, moving through the space informed by its placement in the room. Visitors shift from passive audience to active participants in their physical interaction with these mosaics and even more so when they partake in academic or casual discussion inspired by them. Taken together, the diverse figural mosaics found in the House of the Faun illustrate the height of mosaic craftsmanship, luxurious villa lifestyle, and the inherently experiential aspect of such artworks that must be reclaimed and reimagined.

In recent history, the concept of the “Dark Ages” has been steadily dismantled as a result of the many discoveries of ancient, artistically rich treasure hoards. One important find in particular was unearthed from an unpresuming mound located in Suffolk, England, at the ancient Anglo-Saxon burial site called Sutton Hoo. Sutton Hoo contained an unprecedented ship burial both massive in size and overwhelming in artifacts. This treasure trove contained a vast collection of artifacts, including weaponry, metalwork, jewelry, and other objects that signaled toward the elite status of the ancient Anglo-Saxon that was laid to rest within. Of these magnificent artifacts, one piece in particular stands out due to its highly complex artistic style and mastery of metalwork, the Sutton Hoo great gold belt buckle. The Germanic zoomorphic interlacing design is a visual map of the stylistic influences that brought about its existence, from ancient Rome to Sweden. The true origins of these influences, as well as the dominating visual motifs, are highly debated among scholars. Upon close inspection and thorough comparison analysis of the painstakingly crafted design on the face of the gold buckle, which consists of complex intertwining serpents and stylized birdlike creatures, I will present evidence that shows the main influence on this Anglo-Saxon belt buckle is early Vendel Scandinavia, rather than that of the Frankish kingdoms or that of southern Russia. One distinct motif is the enclosed snake mouths latching onto each other’s ribboned bodies, only seen once more on a gold gilt piece from a Vendel shield. It is important to observe this to understand and properly read the artistic styles of the ancient past, thus connecting us with the cultures and peoples of our vast human history, and this is vital in understanding who we are today.

From the sixth to approximately eighth centuries, Christians in Byzantine Egypt – referred to as Coptic Egypt – decorated hundreds of tunics with embroidered scenes and characters from the Old and New Testament books, and most commonly from the Gospels.  Influenced by the preceding history of textiles as liminal objects, clothing metaphors within the Christian faith and literature, and the centrality of the body in relating to Christ, these tunics reveal a Coptic desire to access the divine through their physical bodies. Through art historical analysis, I argue in my paper that these garments are revealed to be a powerful religious medium utilized by Copts to “live out” their faith. Through exploration of the religious applications of Byzantine relics and reliquaries, I further hypothesize the possible ways in which these tunics became active objects in the religious lives of Copts. In this research, I explore how these tunics facilitated the Coptic faith, thus connecting Copts on a physical level to Christ participating in the deeply human desires to access and understand the realm of the divine.

The period of early medieval history known as the Carolingian Empire is remembered for many things, including its cultural Renaissance that embraced literature, the arts, and the study of antiquity. The intricately carved ivory relief panels that were likely used as covers of illuminated manuscripts are some of the most emblematic works of this era. My talk focuses on the Plaque with the Virgin Mary as à Personification of the Church, an example that stands out as unique among its contemporaries and subversive in its depiction of the biblical figure Mary. It is extremely rare for Mary to be shown as a sole, unaccompanied figure in religious artworks. Additionally, there is a distinctive austerity in this portrayal. This Mary’s expression is stern and stoic. Her stance is powerful and commanding. Her features are rather androgynous, and with her ornate armored cuffs and cross topped scepter, she resembles a Carolingian emperor/military leader. All of the curious elements in this representation of Mary make much more sense when analyzing this work as a political statement rather than a straightforward depiction of the biblical annunciation scene.  In Carolingian Europe, the Catholic Church was synonymous with the state. King Charlemagne who established the Carolingian empire and its Renaissance waged a series of brutal military conquests to forcibly convert the pagans and reunite the territories of Western and Central Europe that were left disjointed in the wake of the Roman Empire. My research analyzes the iconology of this plaque by delving into the eclectic elements that make up the ethos of the Carolingian empire. The veneration of power and authority, the invocation of the Roman Empire, the Christian appropriation of the secular and pagan art of antiquity, the rejection of the Byzantine Empire and iconoclasm, etc. In addition to this, I examine the work through the lens of Carolingian patriarchal gender ideals, and contrast it with a similar panel produced just a few decades later that depicts Mary in a much more typical fashion.

The objects we make are fragile and transitory; some pieces have managed to persist with only minor scars from the vicissitudes of time, yet others have disappeared completely and mysteriously from the historical record. The Vendôme Coffer is one such example of an object that remains only in the fragmentary traces of written and visual sources. However, from these sources stems an intricate and unpredictable narrative concerning a friendship between Holy Roman Emperor Henry III (1016-1056) and a lesser-known bishop of 11th-century Germany, Nitker of Freising (r. 1039-1052). Weaving clues from the drawings of an 18th-century publication, scholars have predominantly explored the object in its final form as a reliquary for the Holy Tear of Jesus in the abbey of Vendôme, France. However, an intriguing inscription incised in gold and nailed upon the chest suggests there is more to the story. Written unassumingly on the edge of the lid, the inscription reads: HEINRICO NITKERUS DAT (Nitker gives [this] to Henry). These three Latin words indicate a previous life of medieval societal practice and ecclesiastical opulence. This paper focuses on the Vendôme Coffer’s prequel as a portable altar. Originally crafted in 11th-century Germany, I demonstrate that the portable altar signified the complex political-ecclesiastical reality of the Middle Ages and affirmed the relationship between King Henry III and Bishop Nitker of Freising. Likely given as a gift to Henry on Nitker’s episcopal installment, my research shows that as an object of exchange between the two men, the portable altar negotiated the physical and conceptual space between ecclesiastical and royal power. This paper specifies how the altar was a symbol of affirmation in a time when gift-giving was the very foundation of society, solidifying roles of power, esteem, and of the church and state respectively.

The Bayeux Tapestry is one of the few primary sources for the history of the Norman Invasion of 1066 AD with the research and story on the Bayeux Tapestry making into part of our history books written as facts. However, after some research and analysis, it was revealed that what we might have learned from the Bayeux Tapestry and the Norman Invasion of England was biased, as it was created by the victors of the invasion – Normans. Along with most of the primary sources that exist today, most of the records about the Norman Invasion were from the perspective of the Normans, making this whole historical event of the Norman Invasion of England a very biased part of history that is in mainstream history. This can also be reflected in other events in history like the Greco-Persian War and the Qin Dynasty in China where most of what we learned from that period is now mainly based on the primary sources from the victors of those eras. From the Histories by Herodotus for the biased Greek perspective of the Persian War, to the Qin Dynasty of Burning of Books and Burying of Scholars to control the society’s perspective of the empire and responsible for lost history before the Qin Dynasty. This in turn caused historians nowadays to only speculate fact and fiction around these time periods based off on one-sided sources that were created by victors like the Normans for the Bayeux Tapestry and the records that were written from the Norman perspective in the Norman Invasion of England.

Sancia of Majorca, Queen of Naples and titular ruler of Jerusalem, commissioned the Brno Polyptych in the 1330s. A portable, devotional polyptych that folds around an alabaster statue of the Virgin Mary, it was meant to inspire prayer and stimulate identification with her. Expanding on Sarah Kozlowski’s discussion of the polyptych’s materiality and portability, I argue that Sancia’s devotional encounter with the polyptych would begin and end with the reminder of the Virgin’s material and theological distance from her- the closing of the wings. The wings of the polyptych wrap around a statuette of the Virgin and the Christ Child to protect it during travel, but they also physically bar the Virgin from Sancia. When opened, the intricately painted wings reveal a selection of scenes from the life of St. Francis of Assisi, Franciscan saints, and chaste female saints- all extremely personal to Sancia, who repeatedly begged the Pope to leave her royal obligations and marriage to enter the Neapolitan Franciscan convent of Santa Chiara. Behind the Virgin, the artist painted a checkerboard pattern of Sancia’s coat of arms, strengthening the identification between the chaste Queen of Heaven and the celibate queen of Jerusalem.

Returning to Marina Warner’s famous argument about the Virgin Mary’s unattainability as an ideal for women, I argue that the object’s functionality- its opening and closing- mirrored the relationship between Sancia and the Virgin. Despite Sancia’s piety, chaste marriage, and queenhood, she would never be able to uninhibitedly identify with the miraculous Virgin Mary. Rather than the opening of the polyptych functioning as a miraculous entry point to the Virgin, through the presence of the intercessory saints, I argue that Sancia would have been reminded of the physical and spiritual barrier between them each time she opened and closed the Brno Polyptych.

The Mosque of Cristo de la Luz in Toledo, Spain, is an intriguingly named structure that transcends its artistic features, delving into a rich historical and legendary tapestry. Situated within the context of Medieval Spain’s “golden age” of convivencia – a purported era of harmonious coexistence between Islam, Judaism, and Christianity – this small yet historically pivotal mosque/church encapsulates the complex interplay of political and religious tensions of the time. However, beneath the seemingly amicable brick facade lies a narrative of deep-seated animosity that endured for centuries among these religious communities. This analysis will explore the often-overlooked legends and art of the Mosque of Cristo de la Luz, a syncretic place of worship, with profound historical roots. By unraveling the stories surrounding this ancient structure, we can revisit the true extent of political and religious strife during this time. In doing so, we aim to redefine the essence of convivencia, shedding light on the nuanced dynamics that shaped this era. Examining this small yet symbolically charged building, along with the legends and history surrounding it, allows us to gain new insights into the complex political and religious interactions that unfolded in Toledo during the Middle Ages.

In this talk, I investigate the Suzhou literati garden designs of the Ming Dynasty, as interpreted through the Wu School’s garden paintings, particularly scrutinizing the symbolic and functional role of rocks within these landscapes. The study analyzes paintings including Thirteen Scenes of Inept Administrators’ Garden by Wen Zhengming and Thatched Cottage by the Southern Stream by Wen Boren to reveal the original intentions of the designers of the Inept Administrator’s Garden and the Five Peaks Garden. I will compare the findings to the gardens’ current appearance through my fieldwork and interviews with the Garden’s renovation director to bring out the discussion of the difference in designers’ intent. I will then engage with Taoism texts and garden construction handbooks along with secondary literatures to investigate the reasons behind the changes in designers’ intents to explain the Chinese’s concepts of intent and how that affects the gardens’ modern perception.

The Wu School of Art emerged in Suzhou during the mid-Ming dynasty and has become a central pillar of Chinese art ever since, particularly for its paper and ink landscape painting. Among the themes explored within this school, Suzhou literati garden paintings and the rocks within stand out as the illustrations not only intricately depicts nature but also integrated Chinese Taoism philosophy onto paper, carrying within them great cultural significance. I will then compare the rocks in sections of the modern garden with the painting based on the visual analysis of the paintings which signify the rocks’ original placement, hence initial designers’ intentions. Conversations with the director of the Inept Administrator’s Garden Restoration Department revealed that many restoration decisions have been guided by the aesthetic preferences of contemporary designers rather than historical accuracy or fidelity to the original designers’ intentions. However, the enduring nature of the garden rocks—potentially bridging past and present—may offer profound insights into the motivations underpinning current renovation practices.

Diverging from essentialist thought, gender identity is not confined within a fixed, absolute binary, but is in part fashioned from and reified by socially defined markers of “femininity” and “masculinity.” This is seen in Japanese woodblock prints (ukiyoe) of the Edo (1603-1868) period, which reflected and constructed gender. In this paper, I consider an 1863 triptych by Toyohara Kunichika (1835-1900) depicting a Kabuki (a form of Japanese theater) scene in which heavily tattooed men engage in a ritual. The case study explores how visual representations of performance in prints, rituals, and stories act in concert to construct a hegemonic form of “masculinity” as understood by Edo society. For instance, the central figure has two prominent tattoos–one of a dragon and the other of a sexualized female pearl diver. The motif of the diver is rooted in the heroine of a classic Japanese narrative – The Tale of Tamatori. Additionally, an investigation of the evolution of the heroine’s depiction in prints prior to the triptych reveals that the “ideal” woman was constructed as dedicated to a man. The diver as a representation within a representation, seemingly inked into the skin of the male body, illustrates that this manifestation of masculinity hinged on the “othering” of women. By adapting western scholarship from feminist studies, such as Judith Butler’s theory of the performativity of gender, among others, my paper illustrates that gender identity constitutes a series of gendered acts shaped by a tangible amalgamation of curated motifs and gestures corresponding to culturally determined notions of the sexes. As such, I argue that Edo masculinity is not an isolated or self-evident entity, but is relational, existing and manufactured in contrast to femininity.

Crows hold a significant place within the cultural psyche of many different art historical traditions. Typically, depictions of crows connect to themes of death, tragedy, mystery, wisdom, and change. However, the Japanese art historical tradition features numerous, more nuanced, and often more positive depictions of crows than Western art history, seeing them as symbols of beauty, fortune, loyalty, tradition, cleverness, and expression. This presentation will explore various depictions of crows throughout Japanese art history, and examine their meanings in relation to literature, folklore, artistic production, and sociocultural context. A group of objects including woodblock prints, silk paintings, folding screens, lacquered boxes, fashion accessories, and other objects will be surveyed with a formalist and iconographic framework, seeking to place these objects within context, evaluate their formal elements, and explore shifting meanings of crows throughout different eras of Japanese art history. The presentation will mainly focus on the more recent Edo, Meiji, and Taishō eras, but will also explore a baseline of ancient and folkloric connections. It will survey a particular convention within depictions of crows, which is that of being paired or contrasted with white herons or white snow, and investigate the literary and social origins of this pairing, and its relational duality, opposition, and balance. Additionally, the presentation will also inspect how notable artists such as Kawanabe Kyōsai and Takahasi Biho approached the subject of crows with new understandings about realism, scientific observation, and personal expression, within a context of intense social change in Japan’s 19th and early 20th centuries.  In particular, themes of naturalism, the environment, industrialization, urbanization, and significant changes in woodblock print production, art materials, and social identity, will be examined. Overall, the presentation aims to trace the changing depictions and meanings associated with crows within the material culture and art history of Japan.

A dramatic shift in Asmat visual culture has occurred over the past seventy years due to the influence of Catholic missionaries, Indonesian settlers, and art collectors. This paper takes a closer look at the cultures within this area and provides new insights into how external forces continue to independently and collectively alter materials, practices, and subjects favored by Asmat artists, specifically when examining pieces made for the Festival Asmat Pokman. This annual cultural festival and art auction was initiated by the American Crosier Fathers and Brothers in 1981 to encourage carving traditions in Asmat. The multi-day celebration is still hosted by the Asmat Museum of Culture and Progress in Agats and has evolved to include women’s weavings, depictions of Christian Biblical stories, and Indonesian symbols within art pieces. Many works made for past auctions are now part of the American Museum of Asmat Art and other international collections. Analyzing these pieces using post-colonial, Marxist, and iconographic methods will demonstrate how colonization and economics have shaped Asmat identities and their art. Collection records will be paired with historical texts from anthropologists and missionaries to gain a more comprehensive understanding of Asmat from the mid-twentieth century to today, especially in relation to the Festival Asmat Pokman. Through this research, I will contribute to Asmat scholarship by connecting what has happened in the past to current artistic traditions in the region while allowing me to envision possible trajectories for Asmat art in the coming years.

Created in 1999, Art for the People is a mixed-media installation banner by the artist Xu Bing. Commissioned by the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), this prominent artwork adorned the museum’s 53rd Avenue entrance in New York City for just shy of a year. The large-scale composition displays the words Art for the People, the piece’s title, in a style meant to resemble Chinese characters devised by Xu himself: square word calligraphy. On the right side of the banner, Chinese characters read “Chairman Mao said,” denoting the titular statement as a quote from Mao Zhedong. The phrase “Art for the People” is a direct reference to the revolutionaries’ aspirations to eradicate elitist ideals in China and create a nation founded on communist theories. Raised during the height of the Cultural Revolution, Xu was surrounded by the influence of Mao’s government and its constant use of propaganda – a theme he consistently questions and engages within his artistic practice.

This paper examines Xu’s relationship with Mao’s message, specifically in regard to accessibility. Through Art for the People, Xu offers his own interpretation, a radical adaptation of Mao’s words that broadens their audience. At the same time, the work’s literary barriers (the dual usage of English and Chinese) paradoxically limit its reception. Positioned at this delicate intersection, I focus on this piece’s aim to redefine the intricate relationship between language and art, embodying a nuanced exploration of inclusivity and linguistic challenges within its conceptual framework.

Contemporary art in China that deals with the legacy of the Cultural Revolution shows the lingering effects of this event in the Chinese peoples’ collective psyche. However, domestic and foreign institutions often oversimplify this genre of art under the banner of “Policitcal Pop,” reducing it to a derivation of a well-known Western movement that self-cannibalizes pop culture as a self-reflexive technique. However, I argue, using primary visual evidence and secondary sources, that contemporary art in China gets at something much deeper than just an imitation of Western Pop, but rather, by exploring methods of assemblage and bricolage forms a synecdoche of Chinese cultural memory and collective trauma. These works become a metaphor for the suffering of the Chinese people and go above mere commentary and critque, becoming cathartic acts of remembrance and mourning.

The human relationship with technology has undergone a profound transformation, particularly since the 1980s. During this period, Americans were encouraged to embrace technological growth rather than fear it, which fostered a sense of utopian possibility. However, as we reflect on our current connection to technology, it becomes evident that this optimism has shifted. Capitalism has pervasively integrated technology into every aspect of our lives, raising important questions about its role in shaping our society. In exploring the intersection of art, technology, and utopian thought, I am to highlight the work of artists and thinkers from the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, such as Nam June Paik, who believed that technology would provide ample opportunities for artists to connect with a wider audience, as well as push the boundaries of traditional art forms. Similarly, Paik’s collaborations with organizations like Experiments in Art and Technology (E.A.T.) represented his belief that technology would harness collective progress and cultural exchange. Contrastingly, contemporary artists often approach technology with negativity. In a society marked by eco-anxiety, a widening wealth gap, and pervasive technology, many perceive humanity as being on the brink of collapse, as echoed by the message depicted in artworks such as Sun Yuan and Peng Yu’s Can’t Help Myself. However, by engaging with the insights of past artists and thinkers like Paik, Joseph Beuys, and Sherry Turkle, we can gain a more nuanced understanding of the role technology plays in shaping our collective future, as well as learn to reclaim our power over social and political constructs.

Dripping with colored glaze, Queen Bee evokes notes of abstract expressionist painting, blending together the intentional and accidental in ceramic sculpture. Informed by her mosaic of identities as a Korean immigrant, Asian American, and MFA graduate from the California State University Long Beach, Jennie Jieun Lee currently teaches ceramics at New York University. Queen Bee visually reflects her experiences; in form, the porcelain bust appears simultaneously fragile and fortified, with colors that seep into each other, revealing an absence of borders. In one face, shades of mint green, peach pink, and white pour from the top in heavy glaze. These pastel colors emphasize the distortion in human form that Lee extends into an entirely new emotional and psychological space in and of itself. As opposed to the paler, frontal face, the left face lies drenched in glaze as elongated claw-like marks scratch the surface, with a figure-of-eight knot etched into its temples. These small imperfections contribute a kind of worn texture to Queen Bee, inviting the viewer to interrogate her form further. Patterned bands of V-shaped marks cinch the base of the bust, furthering the separation of Lee’s practice in line with modern American ceramic artists from historical East Asian manifestations of porcelain as smooth and geometrically balanced. This layer of texture functions alongside color, where lighter shades contrast the starker, watercolor bleeds of black and purple, located on the bust’s other face. Such marks resemble bruises, giving the impression of injury alongside crescent pockmarks are relatively shorter in length. Lee formally reimagines the borders of the female, non-white body by covering a porcelain bust in excessive colored glaze; in this act, she defies historical notions of ceramic art as delicate and precise, ultimately embracing volatility and experimentation in the spirit of contemporary American ceramic craftsmanship.

Public Art in St. Norbert related to the Red River Resistance (1869) reflects a greater desire to engage in investigative archaeology and alternative retellings of historical events. This is shown through the evolution of public art and monuments from the 1870s and onwards. Early public art and monuments in St. Norbert, such as The Chapel of Our Lady of Good Help (1870) and a stone cross erected in 1906, focused the narrative of the Red River resistance on the role of the Catholic Church and divine intervention in the conflict. This changed rapidly by the 1990s with the creation of the Riel-Ritchot Monument and Louis Riel Mural by Stephen Jackson. This mural placed Métis voices, land rights, and self-determination at the forefront of the narrative of the Red River Resistance. Subsequent changes to the Louis Riel Mural by artist Annie Bergen in 2023 reflect continuing engagement with alternative retellings of the Red River Resistance.

The French painter, Rosa Bonheur, created highly realistic renderings of animals throughout her career. She worked from life, largely inspired by her own menagerie at her home in the French countryside. As seen in paintings such as Ploughing the Nivernais, Bonheur seems to capture the animals’ souls as well as physical appearances. Human figures occasionally make appearances in these landscapes but they are very rarely the focus of her pictures; they appear as extras in the scene and lack the vitality that Bonheur’s animals possess. Two works however –Man and a Dead Horse and Mounted Indians Carrying Spears – stand out as exceptions, featuring humans as prominently as their animal counterparts. In this paper I argue that these two paintings are exotic landscapes telling human stories and are therefore fundamentally different from Bonheur’s other works. In these paintings Bonheur represents the Other, with one painting looking to the Middle East and the other to the American West. The physical distance between Bonheur and the people she depicts is emphasized in hazy scenes painted with broad brushstrokes. However, unlike the Orientalist painters of her day, Bonheur’s use of emotion in her representations of the Other emphasizes the humanity of the people she is depicting rather than alienating them further. These exceptional scenes differ visually from Bonheur’s animal-centered works as they tell romantic and empathetic stories about the Other.

Eve is one of the most misunderstood women in history. As the mainstream Christian interpretation of the story goes, her partaking of the fruit brought suffering and death to humankind that would not have existed otherwise. This perspective was especially prevalent in Victorian England, but despite its popularity, it was not without its opponents. A poignant defense of Eve is found in Anna Lea Merritt’s (1844-1930) 1885 painting Eve, which embodies an uncharacteristic empathy for the titular character at odds with contemporary views expressed across the pulpit and in the press. This portrait begs the question, though: what influenced Merritt in her sensitive treatment of Eve’s plight?

In my research, I have found three possible answers to this question: works from contemporary artists, religion, and the women’s movement. While I argue that the first two factors undoubtedly played a role in Merritt’s representation of Eve, the women’s movement appears to have been the most influential in her creation of this painting. Although Merritt did not overtly take part in this campaign, —such support would have hurt her career, and she lived by her brush—the formal elements of this painting suggest that she believed in its objectives. Using original research, I argue that Eve not only allowed Merritt to challenge societal prejudices against the biblical woman, but also the misogyny of the male-dominated Victorian artworld.

As a part of Gustav Klimt’s golden phase, Judith and the Head of Holofernes, c. 1901, stands in the Belvedere Museum as part of a revolutionary period in art, namely in its use of gold leaf and patterning combined with Klimt’s portraiture. I will compare this piece both thematically and stylistically to other works in Klimt’s oeuvre, including an exploration of the historical context Klimt worked within. Chiefly, this presentation will focus on a thorough analysis of the work and how it stands as representation of the innovations of Klimt in terms of style and theme. Klimt, a member of the Vienna Secession, was a feature of Vienna in its Fin-de-Siecle era, a time of monumental and radical change towards the end of the nineteenth century, when those such as Sigmund Freud released influential work like The Interpretation of Dreams. Alongside other women, his lifelong partner Emilie Flöge’s attitudes towards fashion and feminism also served as inspiration. In Judith and the Head of Holofernes, Klimt depicts the biblical tale of Judith slaying Holofernes in a manner centralizing and illuminating the victor, as Judith stands tall in her pride and sexuality. A mixture of rigidity and fluidity creates the explicitly sensual, yet unabashedly smug feeling of the painting. There is a sense of both strength and fragility, exemplified by the contrast between background and figures, compositional choices, color palette and posing of the model. In my presentation, I will further discuss this contrast, alongside how Klimt chose to center the figure of Judith as the clear victor of her specific battle and as the symbolic victor for women’s autonomy as a whole.

How does an artist capture the essence of poverty and class within a country that is hailed as the world’s leading “super nation”? This is the overarching theme within Brendon Burton’s photography. From the portrayal of old houses in the rural Midwest to the gloomy Pacific Northwestern flora, Burton holds a unique perspective of his self-location within American society. Born and raised in a rural town in Oregon, Burton began experimenting with photography at 14 with expired film, evolving into the photographic medium he uses today. His portrayal of the overarching theme of the American Gothic is emphasized through his collections, including American Poetry and Thin Places. 

In American Poetry, Burton ventures within the vast expansion of the American Midwest and explores the signage of rural towns and areas, exploring topics of religion, addiction and human morality in a space that is forgotten about within modern American society, while in Thin Places, Burton’s focus shifts to highlight the old powers that helped build the super-nation that is the modern day United States, highlighting old coal and zinc mines to old lumber mills within the forests of the American Northwest. This ideology of showcasing the liminal spaces inside the United States makes for a unique perspective within the American Gothic art style. I was lucky enough to be able to interview Burton and ask him about his perspective within the American Gothic art movement. Burton stated: “American Gothic has been a lived experience for me most of life, the decay of our culture and society has been rapidly increasing so documenting that has turned from observational moments to a much more documentary process”. Burton’s photography portrays a dreamy yet haunting feeling towards its viewers, showcasing the decay of the working class within a capitalistic super-nation.

This talk draws from my honors thesis project which examines over a century of avid collecting, scholarship production, and community building among hand fan collectors. The project identifies three major “waves” of collecting, times during which people collected fans with particular rigor. The first wave dates from 1860 to 1910, the second from 1920 to 1930, and the third from 1970 to 1990. Since an exploration of these waves is outside the scope of a 10-minute talk, a notable collector of the second and third waves is the focus. Esther Oldham (1900 – 1984) curated one of the most extensive collections of hand fans in New England during the 20th century. During her lifetime, she acquired over a thousand fans, the majority of which she donated to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Oldham’s expertise, gained without the benefit of a higher education, led her to publish over 40 scholarly articles in various journals during her lifetime. Collecting societies greatly contributed to Oldham’s growth as a scholar, researcher, and collector. These organizations created female-centered spaces in which collectors established scholarly communities. Primary sources from her archive highlight the importance of these societies in shaping Oldham’s collecting practices and fostering her development as a scholar. Her published writing reveals an academic approach with a strong focus on primary source research and critical analysis of oft-cited arguments such as the gendered nature of fans. Oldham demonstrated an intellectual curiosity, a willingness to share and exchange knowledge, and a predilection for fostering communities that helped promote women as collectors, connoisseurs, and scholars of artistic and material cultural expressions that were otherwise overlooked (or even denigrated) by the male-dominated art world. Oldham is an exemplary example, whose passion, knowledge, and community-building embody the goals and attitudes of fan collectors past and present.

Reliquary sculptures are an important cultural aspect of many of Africa’s ethnic groups. This includes the Fang, a prominent African ethnic group found in modern-day Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Cameroon. The Fang are known for their iconic reliquary statues, the Byeri. This text further explores the Byeri by discussing how the first European explorers reacted to the Fang and their art. It continues to discuss the origins and spiritual meaning behind these statues. The context of rituals, especially rubbing oil and patina, are explained. Due to these ceremonies, the text reveals the possible explanations for the ‘oozing’ phenom through the forensic data found on Byeri statutes.

When looking at communities of color, especially the African continent and from the global African Diaspora many times they are looked at through the lens of the severe problems going on in their community. Infectious disease, poverty, famine, and conflict are often the focus. The same applies to art from communities of color. They are looked at through the lens of their issues. While it is important to focus on important issues it is also equally important to focus on the people in more dimensions than just their problems. Works of art that represent black joy and happiness are just as important as works of art that showcase pressing issues. Especially in movements for social justice. This paper will discuss the term “Afro bubblegum”, the importance of creating and black joyful art, joyful art as steps towards social justice and its importance in the K-12 Classroom.

Western aesthetics has historically considered the experience of art as deeply private and seldom explores the spiritual transformations it can facilitate. Non-western aesthetics, such as the Indian aesthetics theory of rasa, offers insight into art’s connection to the ethical and spiritual dimensions of life, and the intersubjectivity of aesthetic experience. In rasa theory, we overcome ego and relish in the meta-emotions present in the dramatic arts, to achieve a rapturous state of identification with universal consciousness. In this paper, I recontextualize rasa theory and apply it to the painting medium. I argue that art, specifically painting and the work of Afro-Cuban modernist Wifredo Lam, has the power to elevate our inner mental state towards transcendence, tranquility, and spiritual liberation. In experiencing a painting, it is more than just crude signals on the retina. It is the synthesis of the sensual visual stimulus produced by a work rooted in the artist’s cultural context, combined with the wealth of memories of a culturally learned and sensitive spectator. This aesthetic experience of the spectator, which is even richer when shared with others, leads to an aesthetic breakthrough that nourishes the soul, improves psychological character, and lends an understanding of the universality of the human condition.

In my paper, I explore the ways the artists, Kara Walker, Mickalene Thomas, and Wangechi Mutu, through diverse mediums and techniques, challenge stereotypes, dismantle objectification, and assert their autonomy in the face of societal constraints in regard to Black women’s sexuality. Kara Walker’s A Subtlety serves as a symbol of the objectification of Black woman’s body, personifying media’s hypersexualized imagery. Mickalene Thomas’s Whatever You Want uses her mixed-media method to create an alluring, sensual experience, showcasing how Black women can embody femininity and sexuality in spaces that were dominated by their white counterparts. Wangechi Mutu’s Homeward Bound confronts stereotypes by stripping away the outer layer and exposing the inner complexities of Black women. Contemporary Black women artists and artwork are asserting their autonomy in the face of societal constraints, breaking down the barriers of conventionalism and building on a new foundation established by their art. It is necessary the narrative and depictions of Black women be represented, to shed light on their experiences, culture, and their truth from within.

This paper investigates how contemporary visual artist Kerry James Marshall (b. 1955, USA) uses his body of work to combat racial stereotypes and to draw attention to the underrepresentation of the Black community in American contemporary art institutions. Marshall’s work changes the way the Black community is perceived in society, through his signature, stylized Black figures and monumental scale. In this paper, I argue that through strategies of “counter memory” and multiple histories, Marshall’s work addresses how the past is present, calling attention to the victimization of Black Americans and educating viewers about Black cultural practices and everyday spaces. This analysis focuses on Marshall’s celebrated works School of Beauty, School of Culture (2012), Great America (1994) and Untitled (2008), demonstrating how each amplifies the layered struggles faced by the Black community, such as living in a state of dual consciousness, facing impossible beauty standards, and other ongoing prejudices such as the perpetuation of toxic stereotypes that have the potential to put the lives of innocent Black Americans in danger—prejudices that have reared their ugly heads in the US since times of enslavement. While Marshall’s work uniquely draws attention to these issues through his distinctive style, he is not alone in this contemporary movement. Other contemporary artists such as Kara Walker and Kehinde Wiley are also making significant interventions in the western art world, dismantling racial stereotypes, and shining a light on social inequities. However, Marshall’s unique use of rich, saturated black tones to depict his figures makes him stand out among his peers as an artist dedicated to combating perceptions of these complex societal issues. In sum, Marshall’s body of work demonstrates that the fight for racial equality is an ongoing battle, but his work also provides an optimistic toolkit for those engaged in the struggle.

Influenced by his Ghanaian lineage and deeply-rooted connections to his African-American community, Derek Fordjour works with vibrant colors and surveys various materials and mediums to curate textural pieces that have a collage-like quality yet do not fall under the classification of being Kitsch. This paper explores the Black experience and Black history in Forjour’s work, specifically through the themes of Historically Black Colleges and Universities, Non-Panhellenic Fraternities and Sororities, and the Black Baptist Church. While analyzing works such as Fordjour’s 2021 piece, Board Meeting (Brotherhood Smoke, Chorus of Maternal Grief (2020), and Five Rattlers Wide (2018), I inquire how and in what ways the art brings context and voice to the experience of a Black or African American. Alongside other contemporary African American artists using storytelling to highlight Black history, Derek Fordjour’s body of work serves as historical and cultural timepieces, showcasing the various aspects of the Black and African American experience.

Displacement, an enduring motif intricately woven into the shared memory of diverse communities across time and space, takes center stage in the evocative work of South African photographer Mohau Modisakeng. Passage (2017), a three-channel video installation commissioned for South Africa’s pavilion at the 57th Venice Biennale, confronts the deep scars etched into the psyches of Africans and the African Diaspora. Modisakeng re-presents the haunting echoes of colonial legacies by evoking the symbolism of the slave ship icon and simultaneously contends with the contemporary migrant-refugee crisis as the white vessel recalls the overloaded dinghies featured in the latest news articles. While other examinations of Modisakeng’s oeuvre have discussed its Afrofuturistic potential and its relation to contemporary immigration politics, I strive to deepen the conversation by meditating on decolonial narratives of resistance and reclamation, with a particular focus on its mnemonic aesthetics and retelling of forced migration narratives.

I argue that Passage functions as a powerful site of reclamation and decolonization as it navigates between past and present experiences of forced displacement. While invoking the collective memory of the slave ship icon to illustrate its colonial resonances within the contemporary migrant-refugee crisis from a transnational perspective, the artwork engages in another profound narrative, recentering the historiography of colonization in post-Apartheid South Africa. Within the sartorial details and title of the artwork lie Indigenous modes of knowing, foregrounding themes of resistance and historical continuity. Indebted to the profound scholarship of Paul Gilroy, Sheryl Finley, and Tina E. Campt, my presentation will transcend the limitations of traditional artistic analysis. By focusing on contemporary BIPOC artists such as Mohau Modisakeng, I aim not only to challenge deeply rooted xenophobic narratives, but also strive to highlight Indigenous modes of knowledge production. Ultimately, my work situates itself within the transformative realms of anti-colonial and anti-racist scholarship.

Within Yoruba philosophy, there is a powerful belief that “A person is like a door: to open it is to become part of its secret.” For acclaimed female Nigerian-born artist, architect, and author Peju Alatise, this idea is what enables her work to reach across cultural and geographic borders in her attempt to unify Africa and strengthen interpersonal communities. In my paper, I analyze Alatise’s installation for the 2021 Venice Biennale, Alasiri: Doors for Concealment or Revelation. I explain how she utilizes audience participation in her installation and Yoruba children’s folktales to create a playful, imaginative landscape where Alatise can reveal her vulnerabilities to the audience and they can reciprocate through interaction with the art. The result is a dialogue that promotes closer connection through the breaking down of barriers. I conclude that Alatise evokes the inner child in the viewer to reconnect them to their past dreams. Such an interaction fosters hope, which in turn is meant to build community. I structured my argument in four parts: an introduction to the politics of Alatise’s art, an analysis of the Yoruba storytelling told throughout her art, Alatise’s personal connection to her art, and how all of these elements find their emotional appeal through her themes of childhood wonder. Alongside my analysis of Alasiri, I incorporate other examples of Alatise’s work to add context to her development as an artist. Alarisi: Doors for Concealment or Revelation is a powerful message for the contemporary politics of Africa as well as the broader political unrest of the globe as a whole. Alatise teaches us that when we “open our doors” to believing in the ideals of childhood, we become “part of the secret” that hope is not a baseless symptom of our optimism and is instead the key to inspiring genuine change.