With An Economy of Grace, Wiley — celebrated for his evocative portraits of black male street models classically posed against vibrant floral backdrops — offers a sumptuous feast for the eyes and an addendum to the political and aesthetic explorations of his earlier works, this time touting a cast of female subjects – a first for the artist.
At a glance – grand, striking, and celebratory — the portraits featured in An Economy of Graceseem to transcend sociopolitical commentary, inviting the viewer to simply luxuriate in the singular and unassailable beauty of the portraits, to get lost in the luminosity the artist achieves in rendering the rich brown skin of his subjects, the vibrancy and precision of the graphic patterns that envelope their figures, but, on closer examination, it becomes clear: in the world Wiley is creating, beauty is only the vessel.
Set against lush botanical patterns that convey a discreet political dialogue in their seemingly British-colonial, Regency period inspiration, Wiley’s subjects illuminate the canvas, their beauty exalted in custom gowns designed in collaboration with Ricardo Ticsi (creative Director of Givenchy) as they take their seat in the cool, white halls of art history.
Modeled after portraits of society women rendered by Jacques-Louis David, Thomas Gainsborough and John Singer Sargent, each portrait explores ideals of feminine beauty, the concept of grace and upon whom in society it is bestowed, and ultimately gives status to the beauty and valor of black women, a subject historically marginalized in society, the arts, and the making of western aesthetics.
The impact the choice of female subjects has on the work is remarkable, stripping it of the jarring irony and striking juxtaposition on which his male portraits rely (perhaps, in depicting women — black, white, or otherwise — in graceful poses, amid decorative backdrops brings the viewer slightly closer to the Western understanding of femininity, art and beauty with which we are most comfortable?)
In Wiley’s own words, the portraits in An Economy of Grace are interested in “the performance of gender,” the historical depictions of women, but also, in “celebrating glamour, and the sensuality of the female form.” This body of work is successful as it captures all of these elements — some conflicting — almost without your knowing anything has happened at all. The pill goes down so easily that, until you see the severed head of a white woman clutched in the hand of a beautiful and statuesque black model, posed after iconic paintings of the biblical figure Judith, you could almost forget the larger political implications of the work, and the significance of representing black female beauty on this scale at all as you drift from one ravishing tableau to another.
One of Wiley’s chief talents lies in his ability to use classic, Western elements of art history to both highlight and aggrandize the beauty and authority of the very subjects historically ignored by that tradition, all the while seamlessly drawing a critical spotlight on the values system of the canon, without, for even a moment, allowing the complexities of message, context, time and place to encumber the undeniable truth/beauty of the work.
Much more could be said about the complexities of Wiley’s take on class, race, gender and the ever raveling and unraveling concept of identity, not to mention the significance of Wiley himself — perhaps the most successful black artist since Basquiat. Simply put, this is one exhibit that should not be missed.
Chase Quinn is a freelance writer, art critic, and budding novelist, who has worked with several leading human rights organizations in the U.S. and the UK, promoting social and economic justice. Follow Chase on Twitter at @chasequinn.