"13th"

"13th" is a powerful mixed media work dealing with the concept of mass-incarceration.  Hibbert was inspired to create this piece after reading "The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness" by Michelle Alexander, and subsequently viewing Ava Duvernay's documentary "13th" which also features commentary from Alexander.  "The New Jim Crow" is an informative, fact based book which explores how systemic racism in the American prison system is analogous to the Jim Crow laws of the mid 20th century.

"The New Jim Crow is a stunning account of the rebirth of a caste-like system in the United States, one that has resulted in millions of African Americans locked behind bars and then relegated to a permanent second-class status—denied the very rights supposedly won in the Civil Rights Movement...As the United States celebrates its “triumph over race” with the election of Barack Obama, the majority of black men in major urban areas are under correctional control or saddled with criminal records for life

 Today, it is no longer socially permissible to use race explicitly as a justification for discrimination, exclusion, and social contempt. Yet as civil-rights-lawyer-turned-legal-scholar Michelle Alexander demonstrates, it is perfectly legal to discriminate against convicted criminals in nearly all the ways in which it was once legal to discriminate against African Americans."

For many Americans, it easy to separate themselves from social issues, especially matters of race; however, as Martin Luther King Jr. teaches us "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."  In this piece, Hibbert places a mirror within an ornate black frame.  The mirror is tinted black with vertical bars painted on top.  The viewer is forced to see his or her reflection shaded black and behind bars, inspiring a moment of empathy with those affected by mass-incarceration.  The contrast between the detail of the frame and rugged mirror speaks to the troubling relationship between a corrupt prison system and the extreme wealth which is generated from it.

"The Rose That Grew From Concrete"

"The Rose That Grew From Concrete" - 48"x60" - inspired by Tupac's poem of the same title, continues the artist's experimentation with texture to communicate poignant cultural messages.  

Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk without having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.

In this piece, Hibbert simultaneously exhibits both literal and metaphorical interpretations of the poem.  The block of gray stucco in the foreground resembles cracked concrete with a rose emerging subtly yet proudly from behind it.  Painted behind the concrete is the resemblance of vertical wooden planks.   Both the wooden planks and concrete block subconsciously register in the mind as unlikely places for a rose to flourish.  The placement of wooden planks underneath the concrete also implies a sequence or chronology of barriers through which the rose must transcend.  When viewed through a cultural lens, one might interpret this chronology in a variety of ways.  

Long before the cold concrete of ghettoes and public-housing projects, African Americans endured the wooden floorboards of slave ships traveling through the Middle Passage.  Lined with dead bodies, feces, and disease, these floorboards housed the most extreme of human conditions - through which the ancestors of today's African-American people survived.  In this piece, Hibbert reminds us that through wood and concrete, from slavery to poverty, we must celebrate the roses that kept their Dream and “learned to walk without having feet".  

The correlation of time and physical depth in the painting also erases the imaginary barrier between the viewer and the piece.  Much like in "13th" (another painting in the Good Mourning, America series), Hibbert requires the viewer to become a part of the piece, upon recognizing that his or her immediate space is the layer which follows the concrete.  This realization of involuntary participation provokes the question, "In the same manner that concrete followed wood, what is the new barrier that the Rose must endure once it emerges from the concrete?"

"The Pendulum"

‘The Pendulum’ is a representational piece dealing with the concept of balance and oscillatory nature of culture and society.   In perpetual motion, culture swings from one extreme to the other.  With every advancement, there is a gravitational force which pulls it in the opposite direction, hoping to restore its distance from “equilibrium” but always seemingly overcompensating for the previous movement.  Most recently we, in America, observed the potential energy of a discontent Middle America being converted into a kinetic demonstration of democracy.   The intially forceful motion of change – “Yes We Can” - resulted in the realization of America’s first black president immediately followed by the real possiblity of the nation’s first female president.  The weight of a controversial war, however, and lingering strains from a painful recession slowed that momentum and created an equal but opposite force entitled “Make America Great Again”  - which seeks to restore the nation to a place of perceived “balance.”
 
Balance, as the pendulum teaches us, is not about perpetually resting in the “middle” but about the sum total of our perpetual motion.   Through this lens, we view equilibrium not as a singular point or location but rather as a state-of-being.  Left and right exist together not necessarily to oppose each other but to prevent a body in motion from remaining idle.  The left cannot exist without the right; up cannot exist without down.  In black culture there are several examples.  For every Malcolm there is a Martin; for every Booker T there is a W.E.B; for every Frederick Douglass there is a Nat Turner; for every Fresh Prince there is a Tupac.  Whether you agree with the philosophy of one side or are somewhere in the middle, advancements in Black America have occurred as a result of opposing movements.  African-Americans throughout history have progressed through both peaceful protests and violent uprisings, eloquent speeches and fiery condemnations, diplomatic coalitions and anti-establishment organizations.

“A conversation was had; not a word was spoken”

“A conversation was had; not a word was spoken” – is a representation of non-verbal communication and its significance in various American subcultures.  The title describes moments of unspoken cultural understanding and agreement.  Many people remember their subway ride in New York City the day after Trump was elected (exactly one year from the Good Mourning America opening, November 9th 2016).  There was a strange silence on the train that morning and everyone understood why without having to utter a sentence.  A somber glance, a shaking of the head, a wrinkle in the forehead – were all the words used in conversation that morning.  

Non-verbal communication is a custom in the African-American community, manifesting in both social and professional settings.  The head nod and “pound” are small examples which illustrate moments of nonverbal cultural acknowledgment between unacquainted black professionals in a corporate environment.

“The line which separates a witness from an actor is a very thin line indeed”

“The line which separates a witness from an actor is a very thin line indeed”- is a visual representation of the James Baldwin quote: “The line which separates a witness from an actor is a very thin line indeed; nevertheless, the line is real.”  In this quote, Baldwin (Harlem-born author and activist)  is referring to two types of individuals in a social movement – those who strictly follow the dogma of various factions within the movement and those who “move as largely and freely as possible to the write the story and get it out.” 

In the film, I am Not Your Negro, the quote is paired with Baldwin’s explanation for why he was not a part of the most vocal organizations in the civil rights  movement.  He was not a black Muslim and was not a part of the Christian church.  He was not a part of the NAACP because he believed they were “fatally entangled with black class distinctions, or illusions of the same.”  His lack of allegiance to a particular faction allowed him the freedom to observe from different vantage points -  both inside the movement and from the outside looking in.  The Jenga tower serves as a visual metaphor for this conversation.  Some blocks in the tower are free to be removed and re-added to different places in the structure (witnesses) while others are rigidly tied to the stability and support of the tower (actors).

"Ferguson Is Really On Mars"

“Ferguson Is Really On Mars” – is an adaption of a quote from author/activist James Baldwin: “White people are astounded by Birmingham, black people aren’t. They are endlessly demanding to be reassured that Birmingham is really on Mars” 

In his essay, Baldwin goes on to say, “…they don’t want to believe still, less act on the belief, that what is happening in Birmingham is happening all over the country.”  This quote still rings true in 2017 and is not just true of white people – gaps in awareness today have as much to do with socioeconomic status as they do with race.  Many people who are isolated from issues of race, whether due to their race or their wealth, have convinced themselves that what happened in Ferguson is an isolated occurrence.  Some erroneously parallel their own experiences and draw judgmental conclusions about why victims find themselves in violent encounters with the police.  What these individuals fail to acknowledge or recognize, however, is how their privilege (and separation) impacts their world view.

“Unforgivable Blackness: The Great Black Hope”

“Unforgivable Blackness: The Great Black Hope” – is inspired by the legacy of Jack Johnson, the first black world heavyweight boxing champion (1908-1915).  Johnson was one of the most dominant champions of his time while unapologetically breaking down racial barriers.  He remains a significant historical figure in boxing history with his 1910 fight against James J. Jeffries then dubbed as “the fight of the century.”  Johnson was flashy, wealthy, talented, and arrogant.  He exclusively dated and married multiple white women during the height of the Jim Crow Era and had a hobby of collecting fast sports cars.  Prior to his emergence on the world stage, white boxers and spectators asserted that black athletes were not as talented, skilled or smart as white fighters.  Johnson eliminated the stereotypes about black boxers one-by-one with each punch he threw to knock out his opponents.  White boxing fans were constantly in search of a “great white hope” who could defeat the quick and powerful Jack Johnson.

"Legacy"

“Legacy and The Story of OJ” – In 2017, rapper  Jay-Z released one of his most introspective albums to date entitled “4:44”.  Two of the songs featured on the album were “The Story of OJ” and “Legacy”.  “The Story of OJ” speaks to various plights in the black community including materialism, crime, and self-hate.  Jay-Z uses the song to offer life-advice to the community in hopes that it will learn from the mistakes he made, “I coulda bought a place in Dumbo before it was Dumbo for like… 2 million.  That same building today is worth like 25 million.  Guess how I’m feeling – Dumbo.” 

In Legacy, the rapper provides a much more empowering message, speaking to the wealth of opportunities that lie ahead for the black community.  The song touches on topics such as generational wealth, financial freedom, and spiritual enlightenment.  The painting, on two wooden doors, represents the contrasting messages and opposite directions of travel.  “The Story of OJ” is a portal into the past - where we have been and the struggles we continue to have today.  “Legacy” is a portal into a hopeful future with a flourishing, self-sustaining black community of entrepreneurs and leaders.

"The Story of OJ"

“Legacy and The Story of OJ” – In 2017, rapper  Jay-Z released one of his most introspective albums to date entitled “4:44”.  Two of the songs featured on the album were “The Story of OJ” and “Legacy”.  “The Story of OJ” speaks to various plights in the black community including materialism, crime, and self-hate.  Jay-Z uses the song to offer life-advice to the community in hopes that it will learn from the mistakes he made, “I coulda bought a place in Dumbo before it was Dumbo for like… 2 million.  That same building today is worth like 25 million.  Guess how I’m feeling – Dumbo.” 

In Legacy, the rapper provides a much more empowering message, speaking to the wealth of opportunities that lie ahead for the black community.  The song touches on topics such as generational wealth, financial freedom, and spiritual enlightenment.  The painting, on two wooden doors, represents the contrasting messages and opposite directions of travel.  “The Story of OJ” is a portal into the past - where we have been and the struggles we continue to have today.  “Legacy” is a portal into a hopeful future with a flourishing, self-sustaining black community of entrepreneurs and leaders.

"Nero Marquina: Metapmorphosis of the American Negro"

“Nero Marquina: Metamorphosis of the American Negro”– continues the sub-theme within Good Mourning, America of using physical sciences to inspire social and cultural discourse.  This piece is painted to resemble Nero Marquina, or black marble.  The title, however, suggests a metaphorical parallel between the geological formation of marble (a metamorphic rock) and the evolution of the “negro” in American society.  Marble is a rock resulting from the metamorphism of limestone (a common building material).  Metamorphism is the change of minerals primarily due to conditions of intense heat and pressure.  This process causes the original mineral grains to recrystallize into a new material, such as marble, though containing the same basic elements as the original material.

"16 Shots"

"16 Shots" is one of Hibbert's most emotional pieces.  The painting is a memorial to Laquan McDonald, the 17-year old boy fatally shot by the Chicago Police Department while walking away. He was initially moved to create the piece while listening to a song by Vic Mensa (a rapper and Chicago-native) expressing his anger over the shooting.  Below is Hibbert's statement about the piece and the emotional process of creating it:

"I took a very large canvas - 5ft x 6ft into a large loading dock at two in the morning and spray painted it with a special spray paint so it looks and feels like asphalt.  I propped the canvas against the wall, walked about 15 feet away, took a yoga ball, dipped it into a bucket of black paint and hurled it at the canvas as hard as I could - 16 times.  Once for each time Laquan McDonald was shot by the Chicago Police Department.  

"BOOM!!"... 

"BOOM!!"...

"BOOM"..

The entire loading dock echoed with the impact of the ball hitting the canvas. 

I got to seven times and was ready to quit.  

I felt like I was murdering the canvas.  

I had to push myself to 16.  It disturbed me.  It made me wonder, "If I can only hit this canvas 7 times, what kind of hate do you have to have to shoot a man 16 times?"

I let the canvas dry.  It was sitting in that empty dock, propped against the wall and dripping paint.  I walked away, removed my gloves, and disposed of the evidence of what had just happened.  I had murdered Laquan Mcdonald in that loading dock and left him on the wall to dry.

When you look at the piece, not only do you see the large marks from where the ball hit canvas, but you also see some small paint marks that were created naturally from the impact.  Like bullet fragments when you shoot something or someone in real life.  Those fragments to me represent the fragments that hit every black person when we see another innocent black life shot and killed by police.  We each take a hit every time it happens.  And when you go to work the next day, feeling drained, and unable to focus.. it's because you're bleeding and don't even know it.  You've been hit with a fragment."

"Two Parallel Universes, Never Intersecting"

"Two Parallel Universes, Never Intersecting" is a unique piece in the Good Mourning, America series using only line and texture to communicate a message.  Hibbert was inspired to create this piece while sitting in a lecture in New York discussing the history of slavery at Georgetown and Brown Universities.  The founders of both universities were owners of slaves and used proceeds from slave trade to establish the now prestigious academic institutions.  The current president of Georgetown University, who is still an active professor on campus, recalled how In 2016, he took his students on a trip to the newly opened African American History museum in Washington DC.  He shared the story of one of his students who visited the Smithsonian American History museum the day before and could not reconcile how different the narratives are.  The moderator of the discussion described it as "two parallel universes, never intersecting."

Hibbert used this vivid description as inspiration for a piece that describes the relationship between "American history", as taught in schools and history books, and the often overlooked vantage point of African American history.  The background of the painting is chalkboard paint on wood panel, putting the viewer in the mindset of a student in a classroom preparing to learn a lesson.  The dark black line, bold and clean, has no defined beginning or end points.  When studied, it appears to be an abstraction of the word "history", representing American history as recorded and taught in schools - clean, bold, and noble.  Paralleling the dark line is a more rugged line made in charcoal.  It mirrors the well defined black line but is visibly rougher, has defined beginning and end points, and like chalk on a chalkboard appears erasable.  One may interpret the charcoal line as society's view of African American history - a compliment to American history that can be erased or amended where it doesn't fit the desired narrative.  The brown colored profile of the panel provides a noticeable contrast to the black face of the piece.  Assuming the face of the painting to be a front-facing view of American history, the colored profile suggests a more obscure narrative - that America's history of prosperity is one built on the labor of brown peoples (e.g. African-Americans, Native Americans, Mexicans).

"Post-Blackness"

The term "Post-blackness" was coined in the art scene during the 1990s by Thelma Golden, director of the Studio Museum of Harlem and the conceptual artist Glenn Ligon.  Journalist Touré defines the 21st century as the era of Post-Blackness.  The term is used to describe “the liberating value in tossing off the immense burden of race-wide representation, the idea that everything they do must speak to or for or about the entire race."  It suggests that society has reached a place where "black" and "black culture" can no longer be defined by broad-sweeping social constructs.  It supports this position by citing the existence of people such as Obama and Oprah Winfrey, suggesting "Blackness may be an important part of them, but that Blackness does not dominate their persona."

This theory has received a lot criticism by academics and journalists such as Michelle Alexander, Darryl Pinckney, and Randall Kennedy.  Many critics believe that "post-blackness" suggests America has reached a utopian level of colorblindness that it has not actually achieved.  Pinckney in particular suggests that theories about the black experience in America should not be based upon a remarkably small (and wealthy) minority.  Writer Ben Dalte in his article Post-Blackness’ Within A Racial America? Relations To Black Cinema offers that "no authentic black person would try to define blackness".

In his piece entitled "Post-Blackness", Hibbert endeavors to capture the controversy surrounding the theory with representations of both sides of the argument.  The variety of textures and pigments in the piece allow the viewer to immediately appreciate the diversity that exists within the term "black", suggesting that defining black in one way is not only difficult but perhaps an artificial construct.  The texture behind the words appears chaotic suggesting the lack of solidarity within the black community and internal conflict on difficult topics (such as post-blackness).  The words in the foreground include names associated with Post-Blackness (i.e. Oprah and Obama) and social constructs which have been used to define blackness in the past such as Black Authenticity (notion of being "real" or "authentically black"), the Kinship Schema (view that if an individual has any amount of black ancestry, then he or she is and should identify as black), and hip-hop (link between "blackness", hip-hop, and the notion of "realness" as identification with historical struggle).  The words, written in black oil pigment, are not easily visible when looking directly at the painting because they blend in with the background which is also black.  The words are best observed when viewing the piece at an angle, showing the slight difference in texture and finish.  This subtle feature to the piece suggests that culture, like many nuanced concepts, is difficult to define when looking directly, and can only be truly appreciated when viewing from multiple vantage points, particularly the oblique.