When pressed to envision the island nations scattered throughout the Caribbean, many Americans conjure only the most generic images of sandy beaches, tropical climates and exotic vacation spots.
Unfortunately, the art world is no less guilty of such stereotyping. Widespread among enthusiasts of so-called "ethnic" art is the assumption that the only creative accomplishments in the Caribbean worth acknowledging are the quaint, earthy exponents of its islands' folk styles and traditions.
In an effort to subvert such misconceptions, the RISD Museum unveiled on Oct. 28 an exhibition showcasing contemporary art from Cuba, Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. "Island Nations," on display until Jan. 30, features the work of 23 Caribbean artists in a variety of media and also includes pieces from the museum's sizeable collection of modern Latin American art.
With this collection, Judith Tannenbaum, the museum's executive curator of contemporary art, has demonstrated the innovation, vibrance and intensity achieved by the latest generation of Spanish-speaking Caribbean artists. Joined by Curatorial Assistant René Morales, Tannenbaum visited Havana, San Juan and Santo Domingo to meet with artists and study the complex political, cultural, and personal conditions affecting their work.
Museum visitors will be pleased to discover that themes such as political corruption, gender and religious identity and geographic alienation are all treated with nuanced sensitivity in the exhibition, by both the artists and the curators in charge of the display. Given the glaring under-representation of Caribbean art in American museums, "Island Nations" is likely to come as a revelation.
Many of the collection's most memorable pieces bear sharp testament to the penetrating social conscience of their creators. Dominican-born Tony Capellán's astonishing sculpture, "Caribbean Sea," is fashioned out of blue flip-flops culled from Santo Domingo's Ozama River. The misplaced sandals, dispersed all over the floor, illustrate the curators' shrewd ability to capitalize on the room's dimensions by plunging the viewer into the depths of an impressionistic sea. Upon closer examination, however, the impersonal artifacts become unsettlingly personal, as one considers their impoverished owners. To strengthen the blow and elucidate his study in contrasted meaning, Capellán has replaced the rubber toe straps with barbed wire.
Also from the Dominican Republic, Jorge Pineda tackles the domestic reality of the homelessness and neglect of children in his surreal mixed-media composition, "The Forest." The realistic frame of a young girl faces inward against a wall, as though she were being punished or scolded. Emanating from her head is a jungle of jagged scribbles, drawn directly onto the wall with carbon. Will this Red Riding Hood ever make it out of the woods? Or might the reality of living on an island only aggravate her fears of abandonment, marooned as she is in an already stranded situation?
In addition to issues of political corruption, identity is also a prominent motif throughout the exhibit. Ernesto Pujol of Cuba plays this struggle to comic effect in his silver gelatin print, "Frontal Novice." Donning the habit of a Catholic nun, Pujol has taken a gender bending self-portrait and created an ironic send-up to his society's sexual and religious heterogeneity. A little wandering through the museum halls pays off - evidence of assorted personal identities can be found in different pieces, even those created within the same small country.
This is not to say that the exhibition is without its share of aesthetic problems. The art is of a consistent quality, but there are a few exceptions. In his sculpture "Cage of Speakers," for instance, Esterio Segura attempts to confront the oppressive forces of Cuban censorship. Filling a steel birdcage with dismantled stereo speakers, the artist supplies his polemic with a powerful visual, but a heavy-handed and somewhat trite one. The metaphorical value of a "caged bird" certainly remains undisputed - just consider the critical success of authors Maya Angelou, Franz Kafka or George Orwell - and yet ultimately, Segura's worn-out sense of symbolism has been played out.
All the same, most of the work on display in "Island Nations" is jaw-droppingly innovative and fresh. Confronted by agitprop visions and foreign iconography, visitors may be surprised to find parallels between the themes explored by island artists and the issues that continue to weigh heavily on the American popular conscience - a similarity that is perhaps central to the exhibit's intent.
By introducing museum-goers to pieces like "Multiplicities," Elia Alba's Plexiglas sculpture commemorating the plight of Dominican immigrants who perished in the Sept. 11 attacks, "Island Nations" demonstrates the close affiliation between the United States and its Caribbean neighbors. Celebrating the work of direly unappreciated artists, the RISD Museum has also brought their passions, fears and hopes one step closer to us and made the foreign seem not so foreign at all.
