The Whitney Biennial 2022 Show, "Quiet as it's Kept," as an Introspective Journey in Response to 2020 America

Summer Academy students at The King’s College. Photo courtesy of Paul Glader.

An accumulation of reviews written by students in the Journalism NYC Summer Academy program — Elle Herson, Lily Moore and Tristan Hasseman.

 

Whitney’s All But Quiet Reflection on Recent American Crises 

By: Elle Herson

Coronavirus hits America. Stores close with no immediate plans of reopening. Work is going virtual. Depression is on the rise. America grapples with racial reckoning. Upcoming elections spark political upheaval. These recent events perhaps beckon more questions than answers as they have undoubtedly shaped the trajectory of the American political and social landscape. From April 6th to September 20th 2022, the Whitney Museum seeks to respond to such recent events through its striking Biennial entitled Quiet as It’s Kept.

According to the exhibition description, the purpose of this engaging exhibit is to highlight “an intergenerational and interdisciplinary group of sixty-three artists and collectives whose dynamic works reflect the challenges, complexities, and possibilities of the American experience today.” According to David Breslin and Adrienne Edwards, curators of the exhibit “Quiet as It’s Kept, the display seeks to reflect these precarious and improvised times.”

American art critic Peter Schjeldahl explains in The New Yorker that “the startlingly coherent and bold Whitney Biennial is a material manifesto of the late-pandemic institutional culture.”

Whitney gallery assistant, Jay Bravo, describes the Biennial in an interview as “interdisciplinary, experimental, and politically charged.” Whitney’s Biennial attracts many different types of viewers from various countries including museum visitor Nina. A resident of Australia, Nina finds the exhibits to be both “morbid” and “confronting.”

The ultimate purpose of the Biennial is a review of the aforementioned events while highlighting and applauding the resilience of America. The exhibit encourages viewers to cling closely to the founding ideals of America amidst the controversy and confusion of recent years. Quiet as It’s Kept features artists including Lisa Alvarado, Tony Cokes, Ellen Gallagher, as well as iconic Lebanon-born artist Rayyane Tabet.

Through his journey to obtain legal U.S. citizenship, Rayyane Tabet shares his own personal story and in so doing effectively captures the significance of belonging and swearing allegiance to a political community. According to the museum exhibit, Tabet “plumbs what it means to be American, as well as the bureaucracy, ideology, and emotion that comes with changing citizenship status.” In an effort to share his story with the world, Tabet uses questions from the U.S. naturalization test to permeate the space of the exhibit, and the words can sometimes be found in unexpected places. Questions to ponder include: “what is the supreme law of the land?” “what did the emancipation proclamation do?” and “why does the U.S. flag have 50 stars?” In addition to the list of questions, Rayyne also created a four-channel video which can be located on the fifth floor of the museum. The poignantly positioned questions and four-channel video comprise Tabet’s overall work in the Whitney, Becoming American. Tabet challenges the viewer

to consider what it means to truly be American – a citizen who is educated in civic awareness and understands the fundamental freedoms that accompany American allegiance. His artwork reflects the rigor and necessary personal motivation for obtaining adoption into the land of the free. Though some may deem Tabet’s work unusual as he certainly does not mirror Monet in technique or style, his work is still capable of evoking emotion and response in his viewer.

Artists, including Rayyane Tabet, who are featured in Quiet as It’s Kept portray the essence of modern art. Exploding onto the scene in the mid 19th century, modern art encompasses originality in creativity, expression of emotions, and subjectivity in taste. Modern art, defined by Francis Schaeffer, “often flattens man out and speaks in great abstractions.”

Others, such as Gene Edward Veith, believe that “the self-absorption, the nebulousness, the triviality, and the elitism that inhibit modern art are related to its philosophical bankruptcy.”

However, it is unsuitable to assume that all modern art is inherently corrupt. There is redeeming value in any piece of art, and modern art is no exception. The Whitney exhibit points to the redeeming value of modern art as it illustrates American triumph through struggle. Modern culture strongly contrasts with the ideas of realism lasting from the 1840s into the late 19th century where forms are portrayed purely objectively and realistically. Modern art is instead subjective and can often take vague forms as the artist’s expression of ideas are the wheels that turn the vehicle of modern thought. However, this subjectivity paves the way for unseen impact, as can be seen through the Whitney’s Biennial.

The Whitney’s Biennial is a must-see attraction. It inspires and evokes true ideals in its viewers by forcing them to confront issues and questions that have especially recently emerged in our society. Viewers will encounter both vibrant and lively floors of the Biennial as well as a contrasting dark floor with a quiet air to the room. Ultimately, throughout every floor, this exhibit celebrates American culture at its heart, uniting its viewers in the shared experiences of confusion, loss, grief, loneliness and pain often encountered as a result of recent cultural crises.

The efforts of the artists featured in the Whitney Biennial, namely their dedication to represent American culture through art, should be applauded. Ours is a diverse and complex culture. Throughout their various creations, the artists are shouting to viewers to engage in meaningful dialogue about our culture. Although the topics and events referred to in the artwork may not be wholesome or laudable, this exhibit is an honest reflection of the past two years: a period of consternation, yet fortitude; isolation, yet unity that ultimately leads to a sense of triumph. The Whitney ensures that the struggles of the past two years are not kept quiet but instead processed and understood in the grand scheme of history through the powerful medium of art.


Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s literary vision still recognized today in the Whitney Biennial

By: Lily Moore

As I stroll past the many colors and sounds showcased during the 2022 Whitney Biennial, a black and white video of a woman catches my eye. Flashes of muted film stills pressing against a white back-drop. Upon further examination, the inexpressive carousel serves as just an introduction to Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s collection of uncomfortable yet captivative performance pieces.

The exhibit carries Chu’s articulation of the Korean immigrant experience she endured throughout her life. Images, written pieces, and videos containing text in French, English, and Korean express the feelings of language muddlement she was conflicted with after her years of moving. A photograph I found to draw my attention the most was of Chu squatting in a road with white fabric enclosing her eyes and mouth brandishing the words ”Voix Aveugle” (Silent Voice). She repeats themes of family and banishment throughout the installation. However, she did not contain herself to such. She also frequently wrote about avant-garde films and modeled her unfinished short film, “White Dust From Magnolia” after directors she admired such as Maya Deren and Jonas Mekas. I find Chu’s art to be vague yet pleasurable in the sense that I could find a doorway into her bruised mind.

After immigrating to the United States, Chu documented her experience of moving around countries and continents through photographs, written pieces of work and short films while studying art at the University of San Francisco and eventually the University of California Berkeley. While she protectively carried the manuscript of her first book for three years, Dicteé was eventually published in 1982, receiving a positive yet quiet response. Amidst her battle with the decision to release it, she wrote a letter to her brother. “It is hard to say what I feel, how I feel, except that I feel freed, and I also feel naked,” she admits. However, after her unfortunate death just two months after it being published, it gained traction in the world of literature.

The book containing powerful pieces such as stories of Korean warriors, specifically women, and photographs showcasing a more obvious message became a subject for learning. “I tell my students to approach the book as if they’re learning a new language,” Cathy Park Hong states during an interview with the New York Times.

In 1983, an exhibit curated by Lawrence Rider at the Whitney first put her collection on display after her death. Later in 2001, the Berkeley Art Museum modeled their traveling exhibition called A Dream of the Audience after a poem from her book, audience distant relative, which provided the idea that the audience shared likeness to that of a “distant relative” as they collected their own thoughts and held their own mannerisms.

This year's Biennial, Quiet as it’s Kept is created for the purpose of exposing the “true” reality of being an American citizen and how American art has shaped culture and people as a whole. I believe that Cha’s work does just that. As White Dust from Magnolia played on a screen in the corner of the white-linen box, the comparison of her old life in Korea versus the new Korea she visited compelled it’s standing viewers to form a semicircle around the screen just so they may peer upon it, even for a fleeting moment. Her representation of real life matters is breathtaking and disturbing all at once. Onlooker Alaina Arruda described it as “scary” yet she still came close to pressing her nose against the glass frames to try to achieve a better perspective. While the reality of her art seems frightening, it is just that: reality. I would describe Chu’s exhibit as eye-opening and admirable. Whilst facing her struggles head on, she captured said subject in an unblemished context and was vulnerable.

Chu puts her perception of life stripped naked for the world to gawk and point at. Her brave approach to life is what I have realized to be what resonated with me the most. While it is found to be depressing and harsh, she didn’t beat around the bush when she found her accumulation of outward expression. Her work has and will continue to inspire others to create and learn in the same light. 


Art Not An Acronym: The Rainbow Reimagined At Whitney Biennial 

By Tristan Hasseman

Changing from a creation of solitary monochrome to a finale of passionate colorplay, ROY G BIV is Alex Da Corte’s love letter to the colors of the rainbow and the emotional significance they embody.

When asked to contribute to the 2022 Whitney Biennial Exhibition, Da Corte created a multi-medium piece that highlights his lifelong obsession with bright colors. Since his childhood epiphany that colors could express complex emotions, Da Corte has been fascinated by “how color tells a particular story for each person who experiences it.”

Every two years the Whitney Museum of American Art pulls roughly seventy artists from around the country to create and display their work. The longest running survey of American art, the Biennial includes films, paintings, sculpture, and photographs. The event was created in 1932 by Gertrude Whitney Vanderbilt, the museum's founder. This year marked the eightieth anniversary of the historic event, and was the first Biennial since 2019 due to pandemic closures. The 2022 theme is “Quiet Ever After” is inspired by classic literature and jazz, art forms that have molded American and have influenced American art over the past 80 years.

After working in and around Philadelphia for over eighteen years, Da Corte has no preferred medium. He said, “I’ve never met a medium I didn’t like,” and he’s ranged from shampoo and sequins, just to name a few. His creative inspiration has jumped between ideas and mediums but has always revolved around one thing: color. Da Corte compares himself to Dr. Frankenstein in that his art is mainly a collage of eras, ideas, and images. Earlier in the year he made waves in the New York art world when his installation of a blue Big Bird was displayed on the roof of The Met.

Wishing to see the famous acronym as more than just a way to remember the colors of the rainbow, Da Corte changes ROY G BIV to be more than just an acronym, but a name as well. He pictured this person as one who leads a life that is “made up of many different colors”. To him, “Ms. BIV” is a relatable character, one who represents our society and the art that’s emerging from it. Living in a diverse and unceasing world is complicated and confusing, and he thinks we are all a little bit like Ms. Biv. “A cornucopia of colors and decisions that reflects onto the world.”

Approaching ROY G BIV is its own thought evoking moment. Even before noticing the hour-long film, the bright thirteen foot cube stands out like a lighthouse in the stark white room. The color of the cube changes every three weeks when his brother comes to paint it another color of the rainbow. A house painter by trade, his brother is a key part of the piece, adding an element of movement and impermanence to an otherwise unchangeable cube.

The film brings cold, dark, inanimate sculpture to life through a series of interactions with characters, all played by Da Corte. Through these interactions, the sculptures slowly become more aware of themselves and the emotions they have as they warm up and transition into a vibrant world of colors and feelings. The Whitney clearly saw the societal comparisons highlighted by the artist, and made sure that such a nuanced piece was added to the Biennial.

The world is emerging from a pandemic where we too were cold, dark, and inanimate beings, and as we warm back up to the world and society, we change and become more emotional and colorful ourselves.

But too much of a good thing always leads to issues, and as the sculptures understand emotions, those same emotions pull them apart at the end of the film. ROY G BIV is not only a piece about society but a cautionary display as well, warning of the emotional shockwaves that can result from the return to a bright, fast paced world. So many people are experiencing those same emotions right now, and like the sculptures in Da Cortes film, they are overwhelmed by the sea of change and color constantly surrounding them.

The slow pace that the video moves at is painful but necessary. By speeding it up, there wouldn't be enough time to process and grasp the idea. Although, it was difficult to watch the film in chunks larger than 10 minutes.

The film closes with a heart wrenching but amusing rendition of “I’d rather go blind” by Etta James. As the sculptures come to life in all the colors of the rainbow, they assemble a band and slowly play this classic ballad of fearful love and heartbreak. By the time you reach the end of the film, you’re watching something completely opposite from what you started watching an hour before.

Alex Da Corte draws the viewer in with playful colors and shapes, and then shows the pros and cons of the self awareness and emotional vulnerability that inevitably follows change. The message he shares is one that we as a culture desperately need to experience after three years of upheaval and turbulence. As the Biennial returns, the art chosen to represent America must not only be fun and artistic, but also meaningful. Through its whimsical images and colors, ROY G BIV, impacts the viewer by reminding them of their own humanity in the midst of change.