Smithsonian's Latino Art Exhibit: A Reflective Visit Review

Introduction to the Exhibition

One of the more often repeated sayings is that the United States is a melting pot of cultures. This is nowhere more true than when considering the artistic experience from the late 18th century forward. Celebrating this immigrant experience, the Smithsonian Institution presented an exhibition entitled Our America: The Latino Presence in American Art, located in Washington, D.C., and running from October 25, 2013 to March 2, 2014. The exhibition included 92 works in all media from 72 artists working across various styles and genres.

The overall message of the exhibition was to celebrate Latino culture through the local experience of what it means to be Latino in modern America — a cultural and personal heritage expressed through art as a community. One of the more interesting aspects of the exhibit was not only the diversity of medium, but the vast differences in style and interpretation among the Latino community. The offerings included artists from Mexican, Cuban, Puerto Rican, and numerous other Central and South American immigrant heritages, each seeming to embody the spirit of their particularly unique — yet similar — blend of Latino and American identity. The exhibit also included film, music, artistic and educational programs, as well as concerts, panels, and panel discussions, making the exhibition more well-rounded and multi-dimensional (Smithsonian, 2013).

A Personal Visit and First Impressions

My visit to the exhibition was made with a close friend who is a humanities major and was able to offer several insightful inferences about many of the works, helping tie ideas together. In addition, my friend is fairly fluent in Spanish, so we were able to understand more from other Spanish-speaking attendees. The mood was jovial throughout, and despite the serious nature of many of the works, the nearly perfect fall day created a mix of artistic energy and intellectual stimulation. There is no way to fully experience this "festival" in a single day, and I know that several pieces were missed — though this is actually a positive quality, as it invites more than a one-time visit.

Reflecting back, I think it might be interesting to split future visits by genre, and then attend the round tables, culture walks, or supplementary experiences that focus on a particular theme or medium. I also realized, after viewing only a few pieces, that one important way to deepen the experience is to learn more about Hispanic history and culture, particularly from the 20th century onward. So much of the artwork carries not only cultural underpinnings but was inspired by actual historical events. Understanding the historical basis helps define the cultural basis, and thus allows one to glean more from the artistic representation. This is particularly true when thinking about the Civil Rights Movement and recognizing that the Latino community was crucial to many of the changes and improvements in minority laws and relations since World War II.

Art, Community, and Cultural Identity

This exhibition focused on numerous artistic communities, which prompted me to reflect on the idea of art and community in the modern era. For hundreds of years, it seemed that art was more an expression of a kind of community quite different from what exists in today's globalized world. The central question becomes: does art create community, or does it reflect community — or both? To me, this is a classic chicken-and-egg argument, since it is impossible to separate the individual from either his own interior life or his community and culture.

What does become apparent, though, is that cultural experiences affect people differently, and those with a creative or artistic sensibility react to their impressions and emotions surrounding events in their own unique way — what constitutes a critical event for one person may not be for another. This also translates into the way that art can "become" community historically. In a number of the pieces previewed, the viewer is invited to understand either a snapshot of history or a commentary on a historical event. The power of that art is not only to elicit a response from the viewer, but also — and perhaps more powerfully — to make that viewer part of the represented community. This dynamic can be visualized as a Venn diagram: two circles overlapping to create three areas of experience — the Community (C), the Viewer-to-Experiencer (V-E), and the Artist (A) — each influencing the others.

Close Analysis: Man on Fire by Luis Jimenez

Among the many fine pieces available as an analytical focus on art and community, one of the most moving was the 1969 sculpture Man on Fire by Luis Jimenez. From a technical perspective, the piece is executed in fiberglass and acrylic urethane, with a paperboard fiber base. The accompanying notes explain that it was inspired by references to an ancient Aztec figure and a Buddhist monk, both of whom were martyred. The piece is also intended as a kind of self-portrait of the artist, specifically meant to help viewers understand the ethnic identity of many Latinos who also share Native American roots.

The piece, however, called to mind an ancient sculpture: the Winged Victory of Samothrace, housed at the Louvre in Paris. There is something remarkable about standing before a 2nd-century BC sculpture and finding its spirit echoed in a 1969 work. Man on Fire, just like the Winged Victory, seems simultaneously in motion and alight. Man on Fire uses color to communicate not just fire, but spirit and life; it literally moves from the left base upward through the wings and out into the universe. Of course, one figure is male and the other female, and Man is nude while the Winged Victory is armored — but the formal resonance between the two works is striking.

Still, the power of Man on Fire lies not only in the way the colors meld and radiate from the piece, but also in the way both anatomical detail and overall shape almost lift the spirit of the viewer. Yet when one recognizes that the artist was paying tribute to two martyrs, a certain conundrum emerges: the positive and life-affirming nature of the sculpture exists in tension with the pathos and tragedy of burned martyrs. This tension is reinforced by the sculpture's scale, which is commanding enough that it could almost stand alone in an entire gallery. Seeing Man on Fire surrounded by other works produces a kind of sensory overload — the piece overwhelms.

Conclusion: Multiculturalism and the Power of Art

Certainly, the work is effective in its stated purpose of representing a mixture of cultures, while at the same time paying homage to martyrdom. More than anything, though, Man on Fire seemed to me to be the very heart of a celebration of multiculturalism — one that spans centuries and invokes an archetype that remains just as resonant today as it did long ago.

References

Smithsonian Institution. (2013). Our America: The Latino Presence in American Art. Washington, D.C.