Lyle Ashton Harris: Ektachrome Archive Review
Lynne Mendes and Christina Sharp at Gay’s Head/Aquinnah (Martha’s Vineyard, late 1980s)
Walking into the comforting space of what is the Kadre Family Gallery inside of the Institute of Contemporary Art in Miami, I was greeted by the archival survey of documentation by Lyle Ashton Harris. This is one of the many solo exhibitions showcasing Harris’s earlier works when practicing documentary photography in the Bronx, New York during the early to mid-1990s. The Ektachrome Archive exhibition comprises thirty-six documentary film photographs that celebrate and reflect on the emergence of the Contemporary Black Arts movement and some of their most prominent leading members amid the ongoing AIDS epidemic. Harris’s archive of work documents these personal, critical, and powerful moments that provoked a new way of radical thinking, unity, and contemporary artwork in Black and Queer studies.
When first stepping into the gallery space, the viewer is greeted by a clean array of photographs with no particular order to begin. The photographs are placed in white semi-bulky frames that wrap around the entire gallery space. It’s interesting because at times the clean, white frames took me out of the scene that was presented within the image. The glass and frame set up a block of space in time from the moment that it is on display, while aiding in the gallery formality. The frames being similar in scale and separated only by a couple inches enhance the gallery experience of surveying these photographs.
The thirty-six documentary photographs are placed in no chronological order, most images transcend back and forth from photographs documented in the early to mid-1990s in New York. Once coming to the realization that the photographs don’t follow a certain chronological order, it still did not hinder away rom this feeling of surfing through Harris’s personal photo album. Many artists who work with the 35 mm film photographic medium, such as myself may get the impression that the installation of these photographs almost read as negatives sprawling across a contact sheet in no particular order; thus also serving as a recollection of photos shot on a particular roll of film. A couple of the first photographs that truly captivated my attention and introduce the weight of this exhibition is the documentary photographs and portraits of the late filmmaker, Marlon Riggs. Marlon Troy Riggs was a prominent African American filmmaker, artist, educator, poet, and gay rights activist. Riggs’ work analyzed, observed, and showcased African American culture, identity, censorship, politics, and male homosexuality within Black communities.
M. Lamar and unidentified others (San Fransisco, 1993)
The photographs of this figure showcase these vulnerable moments that he once shared with Harris. It’s intriguing as you continue through the exhibition, one will begin to note that Riggs is the only subject showcased in more than one photograph in different time periods; further showing how this figure was a close friend of Harris and played a noteworthy role in inspiring Harris as an artist and member creating within the Black LGBTQ community. One photograph of Riggs in particular that truly struck me was the photograph titled, Marlon Taking Pills (with Jack Vincent), Oakland, California. In this photograph one can see what looks to be an older and weaker Marlon Riggs receiving and taking pills, his face almost completely invisible due to the dark contrast and shade cast on his face. This image truly encapsulates the time period of this body of work, many may not know that Marlon Riggs was also a victim of AIDS during the AIDs epidemic during the 1980s-1990s. Through this image, one can truly view how this disease took its toll on its victims and how it was such a tragic event to hit the Black cultural and Queer community. The dark shadow casting on his face reading as though this subject is slowly fading away, metaphorically representing Riggs weakening life force.
Within all of these photographs, what makes them all so striking is the level of vulnerability and comfortability between Harris and his subjects. A photograph in particular titled, Lynne Mendes and Christina Sharp at Gay’s Head/Aquinnah (Martha’s Vineyard, late 1980s) showcase that comfortability that is shared between subject and photographer. Both individuals are looking directly at the camera and are confronting the viewer in half nudity. Through their powerful facial expressions, one can grasp that they gave Harris full consent to capture them in such a vulnerable state. It’s noteworthy that Harris’s photographs have a strong snapshot quality feeling to them; images documenting a pivotal moment in time. There is no strong importance on composition and technical alignment within these photographs, the importance lies in what is happening within them. These photographs placed me directly in the scene. As a Black Contemporary artist, it further made me reflect on how far Black leaders and artists have come to establish safe spaces and amplifying our voices within the art world.
Another key component of this exhibition is the fifteen journal entries. These journals entries aid in the documentation of these images and Harris’s vulnerability intertwined with the vulnerability of his subjects. Each journal entry is placed in different notebooks which insinuate and add context to the importance of artistic journals withholding personal messages and writings that drive artists to create the work that they do. The ruggedness and dismantling of the notebooks further add authenticity to the work, by seeing little notes Harris made to himself such as, “Drop off film,” “Studio- look for,” and “need photo file.” Being able to visually see these messages that he wrote to himself placed viewers in his process of how he brought this body of work to life. With these writings, we are also able to grasp the trauma that Harris underwent being a Black gay man in America.
The one aspect of this installation that interrupted yet added an intriguing dialogue to the work was Robert Gober’s, Untitled (1994-95) installation that is on long-term view on the museum’s ground floor. In this work, Untitled is a pale male body installed below the floor, his heart replaced by a drain over which water gently laps. This installation engages with the photography on display by adding the familiar sound of the sewer that joins in with the liveliness of the city of New York. As I traveled through the photographs, the sound of the drainage in the background aided in placing me directing in the setting in which these photographs took place. On the other hand, it distracted me and took me out of the essence of Harris’s work due to taking the time out to try and delegate how this sound works simultaneously with Harris’s documentary photographs. If you would like to see this amazing show for yourself, this exhibition is still on view until November 21st, 2021 at the Institute of Contemporary Art in Miami.
Citations:
Marlon Riggs (1957-1994) https://nmaahc.si.edu/LGBTQ/marlon-riggs
Lyle Ashton Harris: Ektachrome Archive https://icamiami.org/exhibition/lyle-ashton-harris/
Robert Gober: 1978–2000 https://icamiami.org/exhibition/robert-gober/