These flags are part of an ongoing, annual series that artist Hank Willis Thomas calls his “Fallen Stars” series, first began in 2016. Here Thomas has appropriated the iconography of the American Flag. Instead of representing states, Thomas’s stars represent each person murdered by gun violence in the United States in the year the flag was created. These textile flags memorialize the thousands of people lost in 2019 and 2020—including Breonna Taylor, Travis Nagdy, David McAtee, and Tyler Gerth—while, as Thomas has stated, paying “homage to the countless loved ones who carry perpetual grief and trauma as unacknowledged victims of gun violence in America.”

Embroidered stars on polyester fabric
© Hank Willis Thomas. Courtesy of the artist and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York. Photo by Xavier Burrell

Nari Ward used multicolored shoelaces to create this wall drawing of the first three words of the Preamble to the Constitution: “We the People”. Ward is known for creating large-scale works from found objects. Here, the use of shoelaces makes the text slightly difficult to read, prompting a closer look. The Constitution of the United States was adopted as our founding document in 1789, two years after it was secretly drafted and thirteen years after the Declaration of Independence severed the American colonies’ ties to England. As enslavement was already established in the Western Hemisphere and women did not have the right to vote, it is paradoxical, or contradictory, to consider who our forefathers were referring to with the words “We the People.”

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

–Preamble to the US Constitution

Shoelaces
96 × 324 in. (243.8 × 823 cm.)
Gift of Speed Contemporary 2016.1

With The Star Spangled Banner: A Hymnal, Bethany Collins continues her investigation into instances of contrafactum in American national anthems. Contrafactum is a type of song where the melody remains constant while the lyrics shift. Here, Collins has laser-cut the musical score of 100 versions of “The Star Spangled Banner”, and then assembled them into a hymnal book. The laser cutting process burns the pages of the book. While the lyrics of the different versions remain readable, the hymnal's unifying tune has been all but burned away. In its many lyrical variations, The Star Spangled Banner: A Hymnal is a chronological retelling of American history, politics, and culture through one song.

100 laser cut leaves
Courtesy of the artist and PATRON Gallery, Chicago L2021.4.1

Aftermath depicts the date “Nov. 4, 2020,” the day following the 2020 U.S. Presidential election, in a bright red neon Myriad font. The neon was lit before, during, and after the election, and continues to be lit illuminated to signify that we are presently living in an “aftermath” which, for the artist, is a current and ongoing disaster. Viewed within the context of the global coronavirus pandemic, our perception of dates has become especially charged; days blur together or function as signposts for progress or regression. Ligon’s neon highlights this tension, commanding attention while also allowing space for individual associations.

Neon
9.5 x 60.5 x 2.4 inches
Photographer Credit: Ron Amstutz © Glenn Ligon; Courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, New York, Regen Projects, Los Angeles, Thomas Dane Gallery, London and Chantal Crousel, Paris.

These black and white photographs were taken on the same day in June, and capture moments both before and during an interaction with the police amidst a peaceful protest organized for mothers and daughters. Healing depicts two women embracing at the protest, which, according to Yero, provided an opportunity for strangers to acknowledge one another’s vulnerability and offer comfort. Not fifteen minutes later, when protesters and officers from a nearby march crossed paths with this peaceful demonstration, some in attendance had to act swiftly to protect the group from the incoming police force. The young woman pictured with her hand held high in the air was among those who chose to occupy the front lines, so as to protect community members who were more vulnerable and allow them to leave the site before the police moved forward. Her courageous act of resilience stands as an iconic symbol for collective power, care, and grace in the face of adversity.

Courtesy of the artist

These black and white photographs were taken on the same day in June, and capture moments both before and during an interaction with the police amidst a peaceful protest organized for mothers and daughters. Healing depicts two women embracing at the protest, which, according to Yero, provided an opportunity for strangers to acknowledge one another’s vulnerability and offer comfort. Not fifteen minutes later, when protesters and officers from a nearby march crossed paths with this peaceful demonstration, some in attendance had to act swiftly to protect the group from the incoming police force. The young woman pictured with her hand held high in the air was among those who chose to occupy the front lines, so as to protect community members who were more vulnerable and allow them to leave the site before the police moved forward. Her courageous act of resilience stands as an iconic symbol for collective power, care, and grace in the face of adversity.

Courtesy of the artist

Xavier Burrell captured the tempo of the city before and after the announcement of the grand jury’s decision regarding the investigation into the actions of police officers Brett Hankinson, Myles Cosgrove, and Jonathan Mattingly in the home of Breonna Taylor and Kenneth Walker on March 13, 2020. SAY HER NAME!! was taken six days before the delivery of the grand jury’s announcement, when protestors marched with members of Breonna Taylor's family rallying at the Kentucky Attorney General's Louisville office. Captured from a high overhead angle, Burrell’s photograph captures the energy of the crowd as they move toward Downtown.

Courtesy of the artist

The Frontlines shows armed police officers overwhelming a protestor who, according to Xavier Burrell, was pulled off of the sidewalk into the street. Earlier that day, Kentucky Attorney General Daniel Cameron announced the grand jury’s decision. Taken from the crowded street, Burrell’s photograph captures the Louisville Metro Police Department as they face off with protestors after the verdict was announced, outside of Cameron’s office. Ultimately, Hankinson was the only officer charged with wonton endangerment, for repeatedly firing his weapon into surrounding apartments.

Courtesy of the artist

Courtesy of the artist

Vibrant color emanates from bright turquoise protest signs that frame the young woman at the center of this image. Erik Branch’s eye pulls the viewer into the scene, taking us on a journey to the moments that marked significant days of the protests last year. With Say Her Name, a female protestor commands the frame, shouting into a megaphone as she leads a crowd of vigilant resistors. Both of these photographs bear witness to the multitude of ways that Black women occupied leadership roles in the Louisville protests

Courtesy of the artist

Louisville photographer Tyler Gerth documented the protests for racial justice during summer 2020. Gerth’s photograph captures an energized crowd as they gather to fill a city square. On Saturday, June 27, 2020, he was tragically shot and killed during an altercation at the demonstration in Jefferson Square. The text below was taken from Gerth’s Instagram, followed by a statement from his sister, Brittany Loewen.

“When we come together and unite under one banner we can make a change. #blacklivesmatter #blm #cometogether #justice #standup #standtogether #breonnaslaw #everythinglouisville #kentucky #photography”

The image was taken June 11, 2020 as crowds were gathered in preparation for the passing of "Breonna's Law." Tyler described: "To get the evening started, various artists and young people got the crowd excited to watch the law get passed live." There was much joy, celebration and pride this day as it felt like Louisville was setting an example for the nation to follow. As Tyler noted, "This is a great first step."

16 days later, Tyler was taken from us.

Loan courtesy of Building Equal Bridges, The Tyler Gerth Memorial Foundation L2021.16

For this artist, the imprints of a time and space on the body are imbued within the fields of colorful acrylic paint applied onto these large drapes of fabric. Created during the height of the Civil Rights Movement, Louisville native Sam Gilliam’s Carousel Form II can be seen as a protest in itself. It was featured on the cover of Art in America (September/October 1970), accompanied by an article titled “Black Art in America.” By employing abstraction in his work, Gilliam simultaneously refused the boundaries of the canvas as well as the expectations of representation that were inherent to the discourse around Black artistic production during this time. Carousel Form II is one of only eight monumental drape paintings the artist has created.

Acrylic on canvas
120 x 900 in.
Gift of the artist 2013.6

Text includes the following words:

“were disliked for the same reasons”
"were not related”
“read the news account and knew it could have easily been them”
“had never met”

A rhythmic, repeated image of the backs of two women with their hair braided together frames the edges of this series of color Polaroids. These women have similar skin tones and hair texture. Without the inclusion of their facial features to distinguish them from one another, we are left wondering who these women are, if they are related, friends, strangers, or perhaps the same person. All too easily, a case of mistaken identity, or assumptions about a person based on their skin tone, can lead to horrific outcomes. It is a common experience among people of color in a white-supremacist society to experience this reduction, or erasure, of their facial characteristics due to implicit bias. Interspersed within the photographs are statements that Simpson uses to anchor the work in conversations on assumptions that are made about Black women based solely on appearance.

16 color Polaroids in four frames with 11 plastic plaques
Gift of the New Art Collectors 1991.22.2 a e
© Lorna Simpson. Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth

Muffled Drums is comprised of eight found instruments, vertically stacked in a column that extends over twenty feet high. Throughout his practice, artist Terry Adkins connects history and time through found objects, process, performance, and sound. One of the tallest sculptures that Adkins has ever created, this work pays homage to the Silent Protest Parade, a demonstration that marked the beginning of organized protests for equal rights and justice for Black people in the United States.

On Sunday, July 29, 1917, W.E.B. Du Bois and the NAACP organized a silent protest to march down Fifth Avenue in New York. The idea for this event, which was constituted a collective response to a series of lynchings around the country and the particularly violent East St. Louis Riot, was first suggested by Oswald Garrison Villard, a member of the NAACP, at a meeting in 1916. New York Times coverage of the parade referred to the 8,000 protesters as “marching to the beat of muffled drums.”

Originally produced with eleven drums, this sculpture is sometimes displayed with eight, as seen here, for Adkins’ affinity toward the symmetry and repetition of the number. Both solemn and monumental, the piece aptly creates a conversation between the protest photographs from 2020, connecting the movement for Black lives to over a century’s worth of organizing.

© Terry Adkins
Photo © Tate.

In this work, a bronze sculpture of Black Madonna and Child are surrounded by a fence enclosure. Walk around this artwork, and notice how, despite the use of very heavy materials, the artist has created a form that seems to levitate. Is this cage intended to protect or restrict? The title is taken from the first line of Alright, a song by Kendrick Lamar that is a direct reference to Alice Walker’s film The Color Purple (1982), starring Oprah Winfrey. At the height of the film, Winfrey’s character Sofia chooses to fight back against adversity, stating “Alls my life I had to fight…” Both Lamar’s lyrics and Sofia’s defiance are a protest, rejection, and reminder that—despite all odds—one can overcome. Its usage by Gates points to the strength and perseverance of Black women.

Metal, bronze, and Cerulean granite and carpet
Courtesy of Gray, Chicago/New York and Tia Collection, Santa Fe

In this body of work, Louisville native Noel W. Anderson problematizes representation of Black women in print media by altering popular beauty advertisements found in vintage Ebony magazines. By removing the faces of models with the advertisements, Anderson highlights the implied act of erasure that these advertisements enact upon the very consumers they are designed to target. Much like Rashid Johnson’s November 3, 2020 painting on view nearby, Anderson’s works on paper oscillate between figuration and abstraction, pointing to the image while simultaneously denying it. For the artist, this new field allows for both inquiry and projection, while creating a space to imagine alternative identities. Compare these works on paper to Lorna Simpson’s Polaroid photographs. What similarities might be within the frame?

Erased Ebony Magazine
Courtesy of the artist, from his private collection

Erased Ebony Magazine
Courtesy of the artist, from his private collection

Erased Ebony Magazine
Courtesy of the artist, from his private collection

Erased Ebony Magazine
Courtesy of the artist, from his private collection

Erased Ebony Magazine
Courtesy of the artist, from his private collection

This oil on linen painting is part of a larger series of works that Rashid Johnson began during the onset of the global coronavirus pandemic. Here, Johnson has updated the visual language of his long-established Anxious Men series, in which hurried, expressionistic marks create abstracted representations of faces that express the fundamental tensions and traumas that course through contemporary life. The organizing principle of this composition is the minimalist grid, a form that allows Johnson to disrupt art histories that often exclude people of color. Here, thick, bright red curvilinear strokes build upon the painting’s surface, pointing to the heightened state of tension and trauma around the contested outcome of the 2020 U.S. presidential election.

Oil on linen
Courtesy of the artist, Photo by Martin Parsekian