Last month, I participated in Shaun Leonardo’s “I Can’t Breathe,” a public, participatory workshop and performance that takes the form of a self-defense class.
New Documents at the Bronx Documentary Center is not necessarily the most conceptually elaborate exhibition, or the most aesthetically alluring, but it is the one show I’ve seen this year that makes crucial sense of our contemporary compulsion to document sociopolitical upheavals and state-sponsored violence.
I Can’t Breathe, now on view at the Art Gallery at the College of Staten Island, is a dissonant show.
EJ Brown remembers being a kid and hearing older relatives talk about Rodney King, the Los Angeles taxi driver beaten by the LAPD.
On Saturday a group of artists and activists staged a protest at the Armory Show art fair, performing music, poetry, a dramatic reading of Eric Garner’s last words, and staging a die-in.
The nonprofit art space Smack Mellon in Brooklyn’s Dumbo neighborhood is planning an open call exhibition in response to the non-indictments of the police officers who killed Mike Brown in Ferguson and Eric Garner in Staten Island, and the protests that followed.
We are in Foley square at 6pm, some of thousands gathered the day after a Staten Island grand jury decided not to indict Daniel Pantaleo for murdering Eric Garner, for putting him in a chokehold that ended his life as Garner pled — 11 times that were caught on camera — “I can’t breathe.”
It’s not easy to be a black woman working in the arts. Not on days like today.
MIAMI BEACH — Unsurprisingly, the best expression of the cognitive dissonance I’m once again feeling — living simultaneously in the real world and the art world, which feel so frustratingly far apart — comes in the form of a tweet.