Based in New York, Mickalene Thomas is known for mixed-media paintings, photographic collages and videos that explore representations of beauty in art history and pop culture through images of African-American women.
Studded with glittering rhinestones, Thomas' paintings often depict models in elaborately detailed settings that recall American 1970s suburban bohemia and the aesthetic of "blaxploitation" cinema. Her work is now on view in a special presentation at Tokyo's Hara Museum of Contemporary Art, where it takes on new significance in the museum's 1930s-era Bauhaus-style interior. In a recent interview, Thomas discussed in greater detail the ideas behind her work.
One thing that is interesting about your work is the ironic mechanism whereby, regardless of intent, the very making of these images already comments on the lack of representations of black women in Western art history. Is this something that you consciously engage in?
I'm very conscious of that effect. When I'm making the work I don't necessarily think of it as relating to a specific cultural or ethnic identity; it's simply an extension of who I am. I approach the work first through the formal concerns of making a painting, and then use the image of the black body because I like the idea of placing it in a context where it is not usually seen or spoken about.
In Western art history, when black women do appear they're invariably in positions of servitude or depicted from an anthropological perspective, but never from a consideration of beauty. I have long been interested in this kind of invisible representation and whether I could change such historical perspectives through my artworks, not only in terms of stereotyping but also in terms of how viewers perceive the images themselves.
That's why I always return to formulas from Western art as a mechanism for making the paintings; when I insert the black body it has a relationship with something that was already there, but it also creates something that people haven't seen before.
Your paintings develop out of photographs that are in turn produced using models staged in elaborate sets. Do your works have a relationship with ideas of performance or theatricality?
I've always been the kind of artist who makes things harder for myself, rather than easier. That's why I stopped using pre-existing compositions from advertising and other sources and began making my own sets. I wanted to create my own space, to see it directly and be a part of it.
When I'm working with the models I become a kind of art director, and I also work with a stylist, makeup artist and lighting designer. It's a collaborative production, and the models themselves bring something unique to the work. I think that's why I started the "Ain't I a Woman" series of videos recording the models as I photographed them. I felt there was something lost in the photos and paintings that could be captured on video. For me the performative element develops from wanting viewers to see all sides of what happens.
Your recent works are much larger than I expected. Is that scale related to the size of the rhinestones you're using or is it about challenging the macho aspects of modern painting?
It's a little of both. There's definitely the bravado of pulling off a big painting. I like wrestling with macho notions of "They've done it, can I do it too?"
Initially I worked on a small scale, but I found it limiting in terms of composition. I started thinking about space and how to change the flat, graphic space of my work into a more material three-dimensional space — how to play with flat planes and perspective.
There's always this desire to make the painter's painting. Looking at, say, Jasper Johns and other artists that resonate with me, whatever that feeling is when you're in front of those paintings is what I want people to feel in front of my own paintings. At the same time there are certainly works that function better on a smaller scale, like the multi-panel portraits, which are self-contained graphic images. Recently I have gone back to making smaller pieces just to see if I can still do it. I like trying as many things as I can with painting.
Are you familiar with the appropriation artist Yasumasa Morimura, a key figure in the Hara Museum collection? I think there are some overlaps between your approaches to art, although they lead to different results.
I'm familiar with Morimura, but have never considered him in depth. I'm very aware of how Manet was influenced by Japanese woodblock prints: the blocks of color, the play with pictorial space and the landscapes. When I look at other artists, I don't stop there, I also look at their sources, so the comparison with Morimura is intriguing. It makes me want to learn more about him. Just as Matisse looked at Manet, you have all these artists that come out of one another and use each other to find other ways of making something new.
"Mickalene Thomas — Mama Bush: One of a Kind Two" at the Hara Museum of Contemporary Art, Tokyo runs till June 12; admission ¥1,000; open 11 a.m.-5 p.m., closed Mon. For more information, visit www.haramuseum.or.jp
With your current subscription plan you can comment on stories. However, before writing your first comment, please create a display name in the Profile section of your subscriber account page.