Chase Quinn

  • Radcliffe Bailey, Lost and Found, 2013, steel, vintage photo album, Georgia red clay, falcon sculpture, jar of cicada  shells, metal hand, lantern slide, 41 x 40 1/4 x 17''.
    picks August 20, 2018

    Radcliffe Bailey

    Atlanta-based artist Radcliffe Bailey’s exhibition “Pensive” luxuriates in a fading feeling: the distinct mixture of comfort and loss that only a physical family photo album can summon. This is palpable in Ebo’s Landing, 2013, for which the artist framed an old-fashioned lantern, a sack of cotton, and an aged family photograph—an African mask is drawn over the sitter’s face—in steel and glass. A steel spine and a lifted glass pane recall a page midturn. The assemblage, hung on the wall, refers to the origins of Bailey’s enslaved Senegalese ancestors and their journey to freedom through the

  • Juan Logan, Elegy III, 2017, acrylic paint, glitter, puzzle pieces, and olefin on canvas, 48 x 60".
    picks April 02, 2017

    Juan Logan and Tonya Gregg

    In concurrent shows at the Southern, Juan Logan and Tonya Gregg use distinct approaches to upend notions of black identity. Logan’s show, titled “Fatal Links,” examines the riddle of American blackness as it has developed from the transatlantic slave trade to today. More specifically, he argues that blackness ultimately gives definition to all other features of modern American identity.

    In Elegy I, Elegy II, and Elegy III, all 2017, Logan draws this fatal link with a combination of acrylic paint, glitter, puzzle pieces, and olefin on canvas. The disembodied, featureless black heads present

  • Carrie Mae Weems, Grace Notes: Reflections for Now, 2016. Performance view, College of Charleston Theater, South Carolina, June 4, 2016. Carrie Mae Weems. Photo: William Struhs.
    slant August 03, 2016

    Grace Under Fire

    CARRIE MAE WEEMS sat upright at a typewriter, her back to the audience. A footlight cast her long, crisp shadow against a blank white screen, like a sigil on a blank white page. To the sound of a five-piece jazz band, rising from the orchestra pit, Weems was soon joined on stage by spoken-word artist Aja Monet and playwright Carl Hancock Rux, poets and her guides of sorts, and eventually by three Graces—Eisa Davis, Alicia Hall Moran, and Imani Uzuri. The trio formed a Greek chorus, repeating in unison, “Always convicted, always charged, always stopped.”

    In the wake of recent carnage across America,