Atlanta is persistent; it does not let you overlook what the people who live here are capable of fighting for. From the side of a 10-story building overlooking the busiest highway in the city to the crossing lights on the backstreets of downtown, Atlanta pulses with the images and energy of the activists within. It disseminates and motivates us. Even when we are isolated and behind a screen, we can see the images, the passion of artists and activists, through the city. This is what makes Atlanta so vibrant; a deep-rooted history of activism and an ever-developing visual identity informed by the past and present of the city. This visual identity is shaped through the physical and digital environments in the city.
Physically, street art is a popular form of protest art in Atlanta. In the past 10 years, beginning with Sean Schwab’s mural of the late Representative John Lewis (figure 1), the walls in Atlanta have been dominated by images of dissent, memorializing both important movement leaders and the everyday people who represent the movement’s base. Artists like Schwab and, more recently, Yehimi Cambron (figure 2), Wolfdog, Blue, and Charity Hamidullah utilize the wall space to create images that have changed urban spaces in Atlanta. The street art scene has also been shaped by projects like Stacks Squares (figure 3) and Living Walls, who fund muralists to create socially engaged art around the city. Less formal street art, like graffiti, is also integral to Atlanta’s visual activism culture. Spaces like the Krog Street Tunnel have become filled with graffiti and informal murals which support political movements, the Black Lives Matter protests, movements against Asian American and Pacific Islander hate crimes, and, most recently, the Stop Cop City movement. This visual identity of protest is around every corner; most streetlamps and signs feature a variety of stickers, from political and activist manifestos to community events.
Social media has been used throughout Atlanta to share information and develop movements. Sol Underground, a mutual aid organization focusing on protecting the homeless population in Atlanta, began fully on social media and continues to use its online platform to disseminate information about events and possible sweeps. They use their presence to promote events, like Sol Below where they bring supplies, food, and heaters to the homeless community when the weather gets under freezing, as well as warning homeless communities and activists alike about possible sweeps or donation needs. Stop Cop City also made roots online, sharing information about the 2021 vote to lease land to the Atlanta Police Foundation through social media and garnering support from across the city. They currently post images and videos from the land occupation at Intrenchment Creek Park, event information to learn more about the forest, and updates regarding legal action and further development. During the Black Lives Matter protests in 2020, social media was used to disseminate information like protest safety tips, mutual aid funds, and news from people on the ground at protests internationally. These graphics were typically eye-catching and lended themselves to constant sharing through social media.
Historically, Atlanta is rich with activism as the center of the Civil Rights Movement and an integral city in queer rights, feminist, and anti-war movements. Artistically, galleries in the city have shown provocative shows since the 80s. Nexus Contemporary Art Center, now Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, was known as “an alternative art space that responded to aesthetic and sociopolitical concerns of the community.” Through shows such as What Artists Have to Say About Nuclear War (1983), the Atlanta Women’s Art Collective 1986 exhibition, and Against the Tide: Homoerotic Imagery in the Age of Censorship and AIDS (1990), Nexus Contemporary exhibited socially engaged and political artwork. The Taboo Art Collective, which exhibited in Against the Tide as well as at shows in the Museum of Contemporary Art of Georgia and the Atlanta Arts Festival, was an artist group whose mission was to “attack the provincial art consciousness and evoke examination of and create dialogue between accepted beliefs and issues of culture and art.” Their art explored concepts like money in the art world, queerness, and beyond, pushing these social issues to the forefront of each of their projects. In recent years, this socially engaged art, shown exclusively in gallery spaces like Nexus Contemporary in the past, has moved outside the gallery walls through forms of public art. These shows set a foundation for engaged art culture in Atlanta to grow into a network of artists and activists who engage with the city and its social issues.
Galleries, social media, and public art have benefited socially engaged artists and activist movements in Atlanta. By studying this visual history, it allows us to examine the institutions or spaces that have been used in the past and develop them to support current social activism needs, like institutional changes and positive social media expansion. There are some galleries which show or have shown socially engaged art in the past, but currently there is a harsher divide between activist art and institutionalized spaces, specifically when it comes to the idea of public art like murals. However, if we think of galleries as public spaces, we can examine the relationship between art spaces and public art. By fostering art galleries as public spaces, we open them to be more accessible for the general public and for socially engaged artists. Public art has been utilized in this gap of gallery support to engage with communities, display artistic opinions, and to utilize public space for the voices of the community. Galleries and public art, which appear to be at two ends of a spectrum of accessibility, come together at a point of access to art. By pushing for galleries to engage with the public as an accessible space, what we deem as “public” art can be engaged with in more structured spaces.
Social media presents the challenge of navigating a continued stream of visual protest without a link to direct action. During major protests, we see an influx of people posting about social issues online; however, there can be a disconnect from what is on the screen to physical protests, and individuals may feel that sharing information is all they need to do. For example, Blackout Tuesday during the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests caused issues with both blocking resources and serving as a scapegoat to perform support without directly benefiting the movement. While an online presence is beneficial, it must be balanced with other forms of action to continue the momentum.
Can You Hear Us Now? aims to oppose various historically exclusionary practices in the art world, create space for communities and conversations, and highlight the rich narratives of activism that stem from young adults in Atlanta. This show emerged from the historical gatekeeping and erasure that takes place in the art world, and critiques this pattern through actively creating opportunities for various communities and questioning the role of museums and galleries in activist movements. Visual history serves as the foundation for these practices, and without examining the past and present of Atlanta’s art activism, we could not choose the path we will take toward a future of activism in this city.
I decided to look at socially engaged art and museum practices as an extension of my brief study of the Institutional Critique movement, which took place from 1960 to 1990, during my sophomore year at Agnes Scott College. I decided to see how the field had developed between the beginning of this movement to now. How were museum professionals, who were young during this movement, taking these ideas into their work now? I found that these concepts were still being developed, with a variety of theory and scholarly practices emerging in the last 15 years. I wanted to put these ideas into practice, to see what was feasible in the galleries of today. Throughout my Junior and Senior years at Agnes Scott, I researched museums as public spaces, curatorial activism, socially engaged art, art and protest movements, and then delved into Atlanta’s complex relationship with each of them. These ideas are the foundation of Can You Hear Us Now? and the curatorial practice within.
This show has been a labor of love since January 2021. I began that semester with no idea of what would come, but a desire to learn about museum practices and a love of activism in art spaces and beyond. With the help of my advisor and the Art and Art History faculty at Agnes Scott, I developed this show from a bit of research about socially engaged exhibition practices to what you see today.
I hope that this show makes you think. I hope it makes you uncomfortable, because allowing yourself to be uncomfortable makes space for growth. I hope that you take the time to learn more about activist projects in Atlanta, because it is full of individuals making change and standing up against issues that affect this city and beyond. This show, while contained in the gallery walls, hopes to expand what it means to exhibit art, what art is, and what it means to be an artist in today’s world. Let this show make you think about what a gallery really is, what we allow into its pristine white walls, and what we push away. Let this art take you outside, to the art on the walls of this city, to the stickers and doodles on light poles in Decatur Square, to the banners hanging from bridges and trees and the hands of our comrades. Let it light the flame in you, wherever that flame may lead.
-Lillian Jackson ‘22, Curator
I want to thank the Art and Art History department for the opportunity to create this show and their constant support of my extraordinary plans. Thank you especially to Katherine Smith and Becky Bivens, both of whom helped shape this project and guide me through the process. I (quite literally) wouldn’t have this show without you both. I want to thank Anna Carnes, who has guided me through the gallery-side process and taught me about how shows like this are possible. Thank you to the people who have stood by my side as I fretted over what this show would become: my family, my partner, my friends. Your support was welcomed and appreciated during the past year. Finally, I want to thank each of you for coming to see this show. It may be small, but it holds a big place in my heart.