Surveying our Guyana-based visual art community in 2023, must give one cause to pause. I recall having a conversation years ago with one of my artist mentors – a dear friend – about the state of affairs here. Then, we were surveying the community for established, emerging, and young artists because Guyana’s visual art sub-committee for Carifesta XII (2015) had put out a call for artists with clear criteria for these categories, and explicit intention to have a specially featured artist for each.
We listed a few resident established artists on one hand with fingers to spare and could not match this dismally low number with emerging artists – who had not yet established themselves nationally and who had been exhibiting consistently in the past ten years locally. On the other hand, we ran out of fingers for those who met the criteria of young artists.
Where had all the established artists gone? Few remained in Guyana, and fewer still showed work in Guyana. Most had taken flight from these shores – Stanley Greaves, Dudley Charles, Carl Andersen, George Simon, and others. Some had already gone to be with the ancestors – Marjorie Broodhagen, Stephanie Correia, Philip Moore. We lamented that few were in our midst to support younger artists and emerging artists like myself. Our lament then, remains our lament today because infrequent are Greaves’s visits, which are always characterised by interaction with younger artists, and no longer will Simon visit from far-flung places and give guidance and encouragement to the young artists he embraced in his Moving Circle.
Mentorship. It is not enough to remain connected to Guyana from far-flung places, following the news and knowing of the happenings. Relationships need to be formed that allow young artists to receive from the knowledge and experiences of more established and seasoned artists based abroad. Young artists should seek out older artists for guidance and insight and older artists should encourage independence of expression and development of robust criticality.
Today’s various social media platforms make forging these connections and relationships a possibility. But alas, with the dearth of developmental opportunities locally for young and not-so-young artists, these relationships are critical for all who remain here.
Today in Guyana we are in a sea of mostly young artists “going it on their own” and alas, the pitfalls of doing so are at times dismally evident. Ideas that are inadequately thought out find their way into the gallery space and on to the exhibition walls. Where are the mentors to gently guide, to provoke critical evaluation, and to challenge expressions that declare to have done more than they actually did? Where are the colleague artists and collaborators to say your/our implied intention is not evident, let’s revisit, and as we say, “let’s come again”? Where are the mentors to tell the not-so-young that they have yielded to the market at the expense of their more youthful and robust vision? Where are the mentors to look critically, speak critically, and share the critical perspectives that are whispered and inaudible to the mentee?
Spaces of experimentation. Recently I had cause to wonder whether the National Gallery of Art (NGA), Castellani House has become a space for experimentation alongside its worn agenda of presenting the National Collection in an environment of intellectual safety. My jury is out on whether this is constructive or not because the NGA should set and endorse high standards. However, in a context where spaces to show artwork are at a minimum, spaces to experiment are even fewer. Thus, the NGA appears to offer itself in a much-needed capacity. Therefore, perhaps, the NGA’s management is correct in allowing this space to be used for visual experiments; a space for the artist to see come to life the fragments of installations in their mind and in their homes. A space to test ideas for future reworking or elaboration.
Spaces of adequacy. It cannot be unscored enough how important adequate exhibition space is to an artist. While some may lament the datedness of the white cube that characterises purpose-built exhibition spaces where such spaces exist, this is essentially the basics of what is needed – a space with white walls (not yellow, blue, or green walls) but white walls! White walls in all their variations of whiteness allow the light with which we see the painting to be unaffected by the surrounding wall’s colour. White walls, even very light grey walls, allow the palette (colour choices) of the painting to be seen and felt without encumbrance.
Look at both a green mango and a yellow banana in isolation. Place that green mango beside that yellow banana. Look carefully. The skin of the mango will reflect yellow from the banana and vice versa. Likewise, our eyes will register the wall colour that is not white or the palest grey and this will affect the way we see the colours in the painting. Thus, what the artist presented is not what is seen and they have not been given optimal presentation space. White walls matter! Unless of course, the coloured wall is intentional to enhance a display of a specific selection of objects or advance a particular vision in the specific exhibition. White walls matter in artists’ work spaces. Natural light also matters, because artificial light like that from incandescent and fluorescent bulbs have colour that affects the way we see. Therefore, the particulars of the work/exhibition space matter.
Interesting times are in the forecast. Our young artists are boldly experimenting, organising themselves to create work collaboratively, and hosting exhibitions. I hope they will ground their work in research and investigation where doing so applies. Our young artists are also creating an enabling environment to show the work of artists whose names have not won public recognition alongside those who have. Now it is our responsibility as audiences to go and look and give time and space to these presentations. I recall the words of Guyana’s colourist extraordinaire Aubrey Williams (1926-1990) that have stuck with me since my art school days. I quote him very loosely: ‘I don’t care if people like my work or not but I would like them to have a reaction.’ I encourage you to look, experience, and react.
Akima McPherson is a multimedia artist, art historian, and educator
