“Braids & Threads: Connecting Legacies” featured in Dhaka Courier

The exhibition Braids and Threads: Connecting Legacies by artists Monica Jahan Bose and Autumn Spears sits at the intersection of community and collaboration, highlighting their respective cultural identities and the overarching impact of colonialism and white supremacy. The artists explore their connection with their heritage, mothers, and ancestors. Bose is Bangladeshi-American, and Spears is African-American. Both artists are based in Washington, DC, and each draws on her heritage and ancestral techniques-from sewing and embroidery to braiding and crochet. The exhibition engaged the public for three months and inaugurated the new space of Washington Project for the Arts in Dupont Circle, Washington DC.

Together they print African braids on Bangladeshi saris, and create a large tapestry with braids, embroidered kanthas, saris, crochet, African cloth, and woodblock printing. Further, the artists use text as a method of deepening and reinforcing the themes of love and resistance throughout the space. As part of the Braids and Threads art project, the artists had several conversations that they recorded and published as podcasts. They transformed some of their conversations into vinyl text. Both within the fiber art pieces and written across walls and windows (in English and in Bangla) are sentences from their conversations that tell stories from the artists’ lived experiences or stories of their ancestors. One text states: “In Africa, different braided styles were meant to communicate different things, maybe it was your age, maybe it was your gender or your sexuality.” Another states: “My parents were born during the British colonial era in India, in what is now Bangladesh. First English, then Urdu, were imposed on them.” These sentences explain the artists’ heritage that informs their art, their identities, their existence. This use of text pulls back the curtain to reveal colonialism’s impact on the artists’ lives and upbringing.

The artists also invite visitors to contribute to the textual space and write something on the window with their own curated text. Previous visitors had written things like “black and blues,” “you belong,” and others drew images alongside the text. In going to view the exhibition with classmates, we drew a jointly created image on the window in the spirit of the collaborative nature encouraged by the artists.

With themes of collaboration at its core, Braids and Threads is a story about intersectionality. The term “intersectionality” was coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw, who explained that the intersection of being a woman and a person of color means there is compounded discrimination based on both gender and race. Bose and Spears both identify as women of color and have been impacted by their gender and the inherent oppressive nature of colonialism and white supremacy. Braids and Threads exists as a space for two woman artists of color to honor these intersections of their identities, rather than assimilate to white culture – the goal of modern white supremacy. Through the use of text alongside the artwork, or rather, text as artwork, this exhibit serves as a call to action: embracing and celebrating your heritage is in and of itself an act of resilience and resistance to imperialism, colonialism, and white supremacy.

Braids and Threads also holds collaborative opportunities within the gallery space for visitors. At the back of the space, there is a record player where visitors are encouraged to select a record to play while they are in the gallery. The records are from the artists’ family collections, spanning from the ’60s to the ’90s and including music from around the world. Additionally, there are journals made by the artists that exist as an opportunity for visitors to reflect on their heritage, knowledge passed from their elders, or stories from their own lives. The goal of this exhibition is for visitors to feel empowered by their identities and heritage. Future visitors are given the opportunity to look through these pages and identify with people who wrote before them. The artists also host tea time every Friday in the gallery, along with woodblock and crochet workshops, which broadens their reach into the local community. Within this space of sheer celebration of culture and collaboration, visitors find strength in their community. Bose and Spears use their exhibition as a space for collectivism. In being enveloped in the pride they have for their respective cultures, visitors feel empowered to do the same.

This exhibition is powerful because when you enter the space, the love the artists have for their cultures is palpable. The visitor feels wrapped up in the warmth of the tapestry so tenderly draped on the wall, or the sari fabric gently cascading from the ceiling. With an emphasis on heritage and passed knowledge, Braids and Threads acknowledges the way white supremacy and culture can interrupt this generational knowledge and love. Loving their culture is in and of itself an act of resistance. As stated by bell hooks in “Love as the Practice of Freedom,” “as long as we refuse to address fully the place of love in struggles for liberation we will not be able to create a culture of conversion where there is a mass turning away from an ethic of domination.”

Love, collaboration, collectivism, culture, heritage, and generational knowledge are integral in the fight for social justice. Monica Jahan Bose and Autumn Spears advocate for strengthening our communities through collectively embracing our individual cultures in their exhibition, Braids and Threads: Connecting Legacies, and honor the legacies of both those who came before them, and those who stand with them now.

Julia Canora is an artist and aspiring curator pursuing an MA in Museum Studies at George Washington University.

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“93 Fragments” featured in The Washington City Paper

Museums are supposedly intended to be places of looking and thinking quietly, but most aren’t really designed for prolonged viewing. 93 Fragments, produced by Washington Project for the Arts and hosted by George Washington University’s Corcoran School of the Arts and Design, takes a different approach. A prompt on the wall by the gallery’s entrance asks visitors to remove their shoes, take a breath, and make themselves comfortable. There’s a station for making cups of hot cardamom tea, and the room is covered in plush rugs (the better to feel under your shoeless feet). There are ample ottomans and chairs for lingering. The environment serves as a counterbalance to traditional gallery spaces, and through participatory and touchable artworks, it challenges how art is displayed and talked about.

At every turn, visitors are urged to think about how museums and preservation function. Scrawled on one wall is a manifesto of sorts that begins, “Objects previously held inside museums and galleries and archives of death have been liberated!” Below, a glass-topped display case that would hold small pieces in a gallery has been smashed, and, among the shards, little placards indicate where objects might have once rested. The work comes from the Collaborative Fragment Library, which offers a framework for thinking about artifacts that isn’t reliant on museums or the fetishizing of cultural heritage. Artist Fargo Nissim Tbakhi and exhibit curator Mojdeh Rezaeipour have collected pottery fragments (93 of them, as the show’s title suggests) that were found in the Southwest Asian and North African regions and originally held in religious institutions before being deaccessioned. The artists have re-imagined the pasts of these remnants, some of which have been re-homed into sand-filled vitrines along with notebooks containing some “Possible Histories.” The journals can be plucked from the sand and written in, excavating them afresh and unearthing new meanings.Elsewhere in the space, visitors are invited to engage with the work more intimately than a standard museum setting. Around the room are metal platters and bowls of magnetic poetry that can be rearranged, serving as a conversation that is constantly in flux. A textile wall hanging by Dima Srouji titled “Encased in Remnants” features archival photos printed onto gauze, a material that is thought to have originated in Gaza that doubles as both a disposable medical supply as well as a cultural artifact. Visitors can take a piece of gauze from a nearby bowl, a way of carrying a piece of healing remembrance beyond the confines of the gallery. “To Hold and Be Held” by Jackie Milad is an enormous collage that doubles as a floor mat or playscape. The artist has visited collections that house Shabti dolls, or figurines buried with the dead to accompany them to the afterlife in ancient Egypt, and drawn them. These drawings are pasted together with photos of hands holding other sculptural objects and other colorful artworks. Thrillingly, the carpet can be walked over and touched, and the Shabti doll figures that pepper the collage can be picked up (so long as they’re reattached to their Velcro pedestals).

Tsedaye Makonnen’s light-up sculpture is carved with symbols from the Ethiopian Orthodox Church that come in endless permutations—many that are designed for specific regions or people, though they are more widely recognized across the African diaspora. The fragments cut from the metal are incorporated into the artist’s textile works, and the wall text includes an encouragement to research the list of people who were with the artist while she worked or who provided inspiration. Such a glimpse at an artist’s process and inspiration is somewhat rare, and it situates the work and gallery as a starting point for further thought and exploration. Uncommon credit is also given for video works around the room, in which the magnet poems are used to show snippets of the conversations that went into the project: Some of the participants are artists who created the exhibit’s works and some are conversation partners, but the contributions of all are given credence. Around the room, books that have informed the exhibit are available to peruse.

The exhibit starts in the beaux arts-style atrium of the Flagg Building, where some collaged wall hangings can be spotted through the limestone columns. Seeing these assemblages before entering the enclosed gallery room, they seem a bit inscrutable, but their components come from photos of objects inside, like covers of books and arrangements of magnetic poetry on platters. Looking at them again on exiting the gallery, they come full circle. Above these is a set of plaster casts, which were created from original panels of the Parthenon Frieze in the British Museum’s collection, a permanent fixture of the Flagg Building’s interior architecture and a contrasting reminder of typical museum conventions.

93 Fragments runs through Feb. 15 at GW’s Corcoran School of the Arts & Design. Thursday through Saturday, 1 to 5 p.m.

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