In this photograph by Marta María Pérez Bravo, titled Jura (or “oath”), we
In this photograph by Marta María Pérez Bravo, titled Jura (or “oath”), we see the artist knelt prostrate away from us, her body caked in a thick white paste in which a cross and other markings have been carved. She says that her minimalist aesthetic and soft black-and-white palette are meant to focus attention on the symbols she carries and the rites she performs; for the same reason we rarely see her head. “Even though [the viewer] might not know them at all since they are object of separate study and profound analysis, my intention is that, when these symbols are interpreted, they evoke ideas and suggest and provoke sensations,” Pérez Bravo says. While I don’t say this to critique her necessarily, it’s important to consider the issues of race, privilege, and appropriation when looking at work such as this. Is it ethical for a white-skinned artist to appropriate Afro-Cuban culture in the service of her art? Is she recognizing her body as a privileged platform and using it in a critical capacity? Might a more explicit acknowledgment of her sources within the work aid our understanding and awareness? In another more recent series, Pérez Bravo projected images of criminalized practitioners of Afro-Cuban religion onto her face, creating a haunting suite of double-portraits in which death and life, black and white seem inseparable. Her willingness to confront Cuba’s fraught racial history, particularly in the context from which she emerged, is what makes Pérez Bravo such a significant artist. It is the critic’s job to create an ethical framework through which to view her work and hold it accountable.Marta María Pérez Bravo, Jura, 1999 -- source link