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Arts Culture

Paramount exhibitions highlight historical inequalities

On the 60th anniversary of the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964, The Paramount Theater launched a new exhibition series to draw attention to a painful period in United States history. The Third Street Box Office Project connects the theater to the work of acceptance, acknowledgment, and education around the legacy of racism and segregation in the city of Charlottesville, the South, and our nation as a whole. 

“The goal of the Third Street Box Office Project [is] to reimagine the space in a way that allows our community to take pause and understand the magnitude of the history of this space,” says the theater’s Executive Director Julie Montross. “To reflect on the past injustices that the Civil Rights Act was meant to address and to look forward and consider the tremendous amount of work that still needs to be done. Our goal was also to invite the community to take an active role in this exercise.”

The theater opened in 1931 as a segregated building that required Black patrons to use a separate entrance on Third Street, restricting them to balcony seating with access to concessions and restrooms separate from white patrons, who entered the theater with convenience from Main Street. 

Now, three local artists have been invited to mount work that initiates dialogue and fosters conversations around the past, present, and future of racial equality in our community. Each exhibition will run for three weeks, with Kori Price’s “Walking Dualities” on view from July 2–23, Tobiah Mundt’s “Shadows of the Past” from July 30–August 20, and Nick Brinen’s “Ascending Light” from August 27–September 17.

“I think the most important thing that I want to relate to people who come to visit the exhibition is the immediacy of the past and of history,” says Price. “It’s important that we keep around certain historical places and objects—like the Third Street box office—so that we can continue to bear witness to our city and country’s past of discrimination and inequality and understand that we have so much more work left to do.”

Unfortunately, an act of vandalism targeting Price’s artwork that occurred overnight between July 6 and 7 left “Walking Dualities” temporarily asunder. But the artist acted quickly, and in an inspired maneuver, she was able to reinstall the three photographic banners that comprise the exhibition with a nod to art history. In a social media post shared by the Paramount, Price explains, “It was important to me to repair and re-install my art as soon as possible and make sure that I didn’t hide the damage that had been done.” Inspired by the Japanese ceramic art tradition of Kintsugi, a method of repairing broken ceramics with lacquer and gold or silver dust, Price applied gold leafing to the damaged areas, creating “a metaphor for resiliency, fortitude, and healing.”

The gold accents that now adorn “Walking Dualities” weave in notions of value, soft strength, and the beauty within perceived imperfections. Their contrast with the black and white images create points of focus without distraction. They acknowledge violence but rise above it. Price’s exhibition is as much an occupation of space as a reclamation of one. The figures in her photographs are in motion but remain unmoved. The artistic techniques of trompe l’oeil and forced perspective utilized by the artist to place these figures in situ invite viewers to see themselves in relation to the bodies within Price’s banners. Here, the artwork puts the onus of understanding into a corporeal state, where mind and body reconcile meaning.

To help facilitate its commitment to showcasing the visual arts, the Paramount consulted with its neighbor, the nonprofit organization New City Arts. Executive Director Maureen Brondyke says her organization helped with the “nuts and bolts” of putting together the open call for exhibition proposals for the Third Street Box Office Project, including collaborating on the timeline and logistics of the call to ensure support for artists who might apply. NCA and the Paramount also encouraged applicants to consider how to honor the legacies of Black patrons forced to use the Third Street entrance and what capacities the historic landmark holds for “truth-telling” and “reimagining.” 

The arts afford us opportunities to contextualize, recontextualize, and perform history in ways that break down barriers and connect individuals and communities across time and space. They allow us to be aspirational, reflective, and reflexive. The arts enable us to both effect and be affected—emotionally, spiritually, intellectually. These facets are at the heart of endeavors like the Third Street Box Office Project. As Brondyke affirms, “We believe that a vibrant community includes an abundance of arts and culture spaces, and that collaboration between these spaces creates a network of support needed for local artists to thrive and move our community toward a more just, beautiful future.”

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Arts Culture

Between the frames

By Matt Dhillon

Joy is something we must create space for, says artist Kori Price. In her first solo exhibition, “You can’t compromise my joy,” on display at the Welcome Gallery through January 28, the artist explores the relationship Black women in particular have with their own happiness amid external pressure to compromise it. As the title suggests, Price celebrates the choice to feel joy while acknowledging that it is a choice and rarely comes passively.

“For Black women, choosing joy is an act of resistance,” she says. Resistance to fear, Price points out, which can come in the form of relatively minor acts of exclusion or major acts of overt violence. But, she insists, to live with fear or to live with joy is ultimately a choice.

“There’s not a lot that we can control in our lives, but we can control how we face the world,” Price says.

Grounded in portraits of Black women in moments of personal joy, the exhibition brings in cultural references to build an atmosphere of tension in the room between two contrasting emotions. A tapestry of weaves in a variety of different hairstyles curtains the gallery’s front windows, individual pages hang in the middle of the room—pieces from the Louisville police report on the shooting of Breonna Taylor in her home in March of 2020.

“What I wanted to create was a headspace,” says Price. “When you walk through the door, you walk through the fringe, you’ve touched her hair, and you are now intimate with this headspace of a Black woman.” Inside that head, you have to navigate through the evidence of violence to reach the portraits of joy.

“I thought it was important to place [the case files] as such where it made it a little difficult to walk through the gallery, because it’s an obstacle,” she says.

Yet the focus of her work remains on the strength and resilience of her subjects. Branching out from a background in portraiture, Price’s photography retains a core theme of identity. Her 2018 series, “28 Days of Black Hair,” is also a celebration of self that lands with a similar weight of an “act of resistance.”

“I think Black hair is an entry point into having deeper discussions about class and race and identity and how all of those things intersect,” says Price. “I wasn’t natural for a long time. I permed my hair, and what I didn’t realize until I started digging into this is that we were trying to fit in, and to fit in means to look white.”

Price’s portraits often stand in resistance to that pressure. For “You can’t compromise my joy,” she asked her subjects a simple question: What are the things that bring you joy? What we see are their answers.

“I felt privileged and honored to be able to document the different ways that Black women in our community experience joy,” Price says of the process. “There’s definitely some photos where people aren’t smiling, because joy isn’t all about smiles. It’s about feeling like, okay, I’m in the right place.”

As for Price, her joy is found close to home. “I’m a very proud nerd and I love playing video games,” she admits. A picture of herself, she imagines, “would have my headsets on, nose almost to the TV, with the guys that I play with online, and we’d just be in it.”

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Arts Culture

Letting it flow

By Alana Bittner

When writer and photographer Kori Price agreed to be part of the curation committee for a Black artists’ exhibition at McGuffey Art Center, water was not on her mind. It didn’t come up until someone asked how they wanted viewers to move through the gallery. Price recalls discussing ways to make viewers feel like they were underwater: “How did we want them to feel? Should they follow a specific route through the space? How should they flow through?”

Those questions evoked sobering scenes for Price. Water signified the Middle Passage, the expanse of ocean that was used for trans-Atlantic slave trade, into which an unknown number of Africans jumped rather than endure bondage.

But water is also present in moments of joy and release, strength and protest. Price says the committee, which also includes Derrick Waller, Sahara Clemons, Dena Jennings, Jae Johnson, Tobiah Mundt, and Lillie Williams, soon realized it was the perfect metaphor for framing such a broad topic, and agreed on “Water: The Agony and Ecstasy of the Black Experience” for the show’s title.

The group intentionally kept the requirements for the participating artists simple, asking only for interpretations on the theme. The results are wide-ranging and surprising. The show features painting, photography, and film, plus banjos carved from dipping gourds. In the films of Ellis Finney, water symbolizes the flow of time and memory. For painter Clinton Helms, the theme manifests as a powerful thunderstorm, while Bolanle Adeboye captures the joy of a young girl playing in the rain. Yet despite the range of subjects, Price marvels at how “each individual piece flowed together as a cohesive unit in the show.”

Waller, a photographer, says that initially, he had no idea where to begin in creating his art for the show. The challenge encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone and pick up a paint brush. The discussions involving the trans-Atlantic slave trade had imprinted one quote in particular on his mind. In Black Panther, Michael B. Jordan’s character Killmonger says, “Nah… Just bury me in the ocean…with my ancestors that jumped from the ship…cuz they knew death was better than bondage.” Waller’s resulting work, “Death Was Better Than Bondage,” is a haunting tribute to those who jumped. Black pins are scattered across a background as blue as the sea, marking the lives lost to the waves.

When Price discovered that the first slave ship to the mainland colonies, the White Lion, landed in present-day Hampton, Virginia, she grabbed her camera and drove down to visit. The experience was moving, and resurfaced questions about her own past. “Like many Black Americans, there’s likely not a record of who my enslaved ancestors were or when they gained their freedom,” Price says. “Though I don’t know them by name, I think about them…and wonder who the more than 20 Africans were that walked off the White Lion and became our legacy.” Price’s “Shadow of 20. and Odd Negroes” shows ethereal shadows cast upon a deserted beach, stretching almost to the ocean beyond.

As submissions came in, the McGuffey committee noticed that many of the participating artists were showing work for the first time. Waller says that in talking with the artists it became clear that opportunities for Black artists to show their work were limited. For Waller, this affirmed a troubling trend. In his experience, it’s been “very rare to attend an art show that is totally focused on celebrating the talents of Black artists.”

During the curation process, the committee members began to discuss the role they could play in helping Black artists get connected with opportunities to show their work, and eventually decided to present the show as the product of a new organization: the Charlottesville Black Arts Collective. Waller says that “helping Black artists gain exposure will be at the core” of CBAC’s mission.

“Water” shows just how valuable that exposure is. By featuring a variety of Black voices, the exhibit captures the nuances and multiplicities of the Black experience, something missing from white-domintated art spaces.

“I think that people can make a mistake in interpreting the Black experience as a singular and stereotyped experience,” says Price. She hopes viewers can “leave with a better understanding of our complexities.”

For Waller, “Water” touches on something fundamental. “I think the show will make people feel,” he says, “whatever that emotion may be…joy, sadness, anger, peace. I want people to feel. And then I hope these feelings spark good conversation and dialogue.”