Deborah Roberts: If They Come

Stephen Friedman Gallery - London UK

“You don’t need no ticket, you just get on board.”

- Curtis Mayfield

By Tim Hadfield

Deborah Roberts has been quietly building a solid reputation in the United States in recent years, confirmed by purchases for major museum collections, including the Whitney, Brooklyn and L.A. County museums. So, it is surprising that “If They Come” is the artist’s first one-woman show in London and Europe. The Stephen Friedman Gallery has brought Roberts’ work to their two adjacent spaces, situated in the heart of London’s West End, after it was featured by them at Art Basel Miami Beach in December 2018. This important debut announces the artist’s arrival as a consequential contributor to our pressing global issues of identity, equity and inclusion of, and for, people of color, which are key for Roberts.

The title of the show, “If They Come,” is derived from the words of James Baldwin, written in a letter of support to black activist Angela Davis during the height of the Civil Rights era in 1970. Baldwin, knowing Davis was facing the real possibility of jail for her actions, wrote; “…for if they take you in the morning, they will be coming for us tonight.” As an African-American woman who was raised and still lives in Austin, Texas-long regarded as a liberal enclave in a deeply conservative state-this choice of title leaves us in little doubt about the depth of Roberts’ intentions and the motivation that drives her philosophy.

Deborah Roberts, Give it a try (RR), 2019, mixed media and collage on paper, 44” x 32.”

If Baldwin’s still growing influence, fueled by the 2016 Oscar-nominated documentary ‘I Am Not Your Negro,’ can be characterized as “righteous anger,” Roberts’ work is distinguished by the control she exerts in pulling us carefully into these resonant issues, with the unequivocal immediacy of her images-they cannot safely be called collages or paintings with such an even mix-and her guarded optimism.

She first does this with the clarity and exuberance of her bold figurative subjects. All are children of color between nine and 12 years of age, portrayed in a graphic admixture of flat paint and photographic collage. Engaging with their pre-teen naiveté and subconscious gangly poses, the young faces return our gaze inquisitively, some shy, others confident and self-possessed. This connection in turn gives us a sense of empathy between artist and models, who are apparently based on multiple sources, including the children of friends and relatives.

The poise of these children is enhanced by the appearance of their clothes. Painted and collaged in saturated hues and assertive patterns-think loud stripes and busy socks-their style suggests the artist herself has “dressed” them, lending a stylish but assertive appearance that speaks not of a disadvantaged background but rather to her aim of their empowerment.

The entire series is technically very consistent. The figures are all, for example, seen against a metaphorical white ground-and not so much centered “in” this white field, as one might expect of a portrait, but rather beside it, or moving through it, reinforcing the notion that these figures are not individuals but ciphers that have to navigate our domineering white world. And here, the artist gives a glimpse of the cited influence of Barkley L. Hendricks, whose hugely influential figurative paintings frequently display a monochrome white ground-though he also served up orange, pink, gold, etc., versions too.

Deborah Roberts, Hip bone, 2019, mixed media and collage on canvas, 65” x 45.”

Roberts’ uncanny ability to conjure convincing expressions on her subjects’ faces, with superimposed photocollage sections that are just enough and no more, is extraordinary. Despite being sourced from multiple individuals, the facial collage always exhibits at least two layers, the expressive limbs and hands sometimes one layer only. She skillfully manipulates the faces, frequently playing off the stereotypes of “blackness,” eyes and lips exaggerated with enlarged collage elements. These changes appear to only make the children more knowing and empathetic-in I am not a man, I’m dynamite, 2019, a boy is dressed as a boxer with a piece of photocollage set onto the face, which may even be that of Muhammad Ali. These constructed composites often reveal differing skin colors, and although “blackness” is central to this work featuring African-American children, predominantly girls, at least one figure is clearly a young Muslim girl wearing a hijab.

The artist’s youngsters silently posit what the future holds for their still unshaped lives. Her subjects are by no means passive actors, displaying the taped hands of fighters, boxing gloves, the clenched fist of solidarity and the Black Power movement, hands pushing us, the viewers, away. In The Burden, 2019, a girl casually holds a mask formed from two other much fairer-skinned, probably white, subjects. The implication of having to fit in-to hide one’s “blackness”-is obvious. Further symbols of defiance and resistance are collaged onto young bodies. Though one young barefoot boy in Give it a try (RR), 2019, holds out his hand as if begging, Roberts is reminding us that the future for these young people is out of her hands and can still have a negative outcome.

There is no self-pity here, as their self-conscious awareness is endearing, but these young children are not just dressing up as adults, they too are ready, quietly defiant. They will support each other, finding solidarity in pairs, or a group, and are learning about self-preservation much earlier than their white peers. For many children of color in the U.S. the walk home from school remains the most dangerous journey of their life.

These concerns are addressed at a time when the ugly threat of nationalism, xenophobia and white supremacism has resurfaced in a manner that seemed unimaginable just a few short years after the election of a black President of the United States. Such issues have now also assumed a global dimension and urgency, with a new Middle Eastern and African diaspora of millions (so clearly documented in Ai Weiwei’s Human Flow) going to Europe.

Roberts’ “If They Come” is in itself then a metaphor for the persecution of all minorities, yet the context of her intentions may become harder to interpret as these artworks age. What will remain timeless and clear, however, is the simple humanity of Roberts’ children, whom she has so sensitively turned into more than actors in her passion play, but universal signifiers of beauty, hope and strength. Above all, they are both a lament for a universal loss of innocence and an inspiring harbinger of global change.

(June 6 - July 26, 2019)

Tim Hadfield is a British artist, curator and writer who is a professor of media arts at Robert Morris University in Pittsburgh, where he was the founding head of the department. He has exhibited widely in the United States and Europe. Hadfield has lectured at many renowned institutions, including Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Savannah College of Art & Design, and the University of the Arts and Royal College of Art, both in London. He has curated exhibitions across the U.S. and international projects in Australia, England, Hong Kong, China and Chile. In 2003, he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, Great Britain, and in 2010 co-founded the nonprofit Sewickley Arts Initiative.