Arts & Entertainment : Gallery (museums)
“Jefferson Pinder: Revival” At G Fine Art to Aug. 3
“Academy 2013”
At Connersmith to Aug. 24
These two small, brainy shows reverberate beyond their galleries' walls. By Kriston Capps • July 19, 2013
Jefferson Pinder’s “Revival” is somebody’s nightmare. The most harrowing images in this multichannel video installation open in a parking garage. At the far end of the row lurks a menacing figure. The camera creeps forward toward him, its focus
Jefferson Pinder, “Revival”
occasionally falling out of sync with the man—an effect that may heighten the viewer’s fear. The Beatles’ “Helter Skelter” plays, and as the heavy-metal storm gathers force, it becomes clear that the man, who is black, knows every word. This is the last place where some people might want to find themselves: caught, alone, in a poorly lit place, with an apparently angry black man. It’s the kind of fantasy terror that could have motivated George Zimmerman to stand his ground, if you will, against the hoodie-wearing, snack-packing Trayvon Martin, whose youth and race seem to have marked him as a threat in the man’s mind. But this may be the last place where Chukwumaa, the mononymous artist who stars in Pinder’s “Helter Skelter” video, wants to find himself, too. The idea that white people might perceive them as threatening at any time or place is a special nightmare that black men live daily. Pinder’s “Revival” videos are portraits that examine the juxtaposition between socially constructed ideas of being black or white and the psychic reality of being black. The exhibition is a sequel to “Juke,” a series that Pinder showed at G Fine Art in 2006. “Revival” uses the same formula as “Juke”: videos of black people lip-synching to songs that code white. This time, Pinder employs five screens to show several singers at once, with music projected in the gallery (instead of the single-channel videos with headphones he used for “Juke”). The installation, designed by Pablo Van Winkle, is ready for a museum; “Revival” should be put in one. The “Helter Skelter” portrait of Chukwumaa wouldn’t work nearly so well if it weren’t on view with a five-channel portrait of a group (Michael E. Harris, Kekeli Sumah, Dominick Reibrun, Orlando Pinder, and Ayodamola Okunseinde) lip-synching to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Reibrun is the focal point: His face strains to evoke