Art Review: Kevin Harris at the GAR by Mary McCoy
January 27,
2015
Harris’s art comes straight from the
soul. On view at the Charles Sumner Post #25 GAR through February 28, his
paintings on glass are forthright and unpretentious as he explores the
difficult themes of slavery, injustice and spiritual struggle, issues that have
shaped his life as an African American. But far from being depressing, his work
celebrates the beauty and indomitable nature of the human spirit.
As news reports remind us every day,
black men face greater challenges than most people in trying to live a
comfortable, fulfilling life in this culture. Now in his fifties, Harris has
experienced more than his share of these challenges, including wrestling with
drug addiction for many years. He has been clean for the past three years, the
same three years during which he has been working on this powerful series of
works painted on glass.
Painting on glass is a tricky
business. Because Harris paints on the back of the glass, the image must be
reversed as if in a mirror, and he must plan carefully because what’s painted
first will stand out against any subsequent brushstrokes. It’s an old art
dating back to the Middle Ages, and while it was popular ineastern European
folk art and icons during the 19th century, it’s not a common medium in contemporary art, so Harris
has had to develop his own techniques of working.
Brushing on layer upon layer of
acrylic house paint, sometimes adding spray paint, and often painstakingly
scraping paint away with a razor blade to open areas of the glass for a new
color, he continually experiments with ways of getting the effects he’s looking
for. Trained as a graphic artist, his style is clear and direct as he plays
with the push-pull effects of brilliant color, variations of opacity and
transparency, and eye-teasing disparities between high contrast black and white
versus strongly modeled forms. But as bold as his work is, he also has a flair
for nuance, especially when he is painting faces.
With just a few tiny details of
shading, he conveys the open, lively sweetness of a young girl wearing a
traditional African headdress in “My Queen.” In “Freedom,” his brushstrokes
sketch a complex portrait of the world-weariness and loss of hope of a man with
a noose around his neck.
While Harris uses an arsenal of
styles to convey his messages, juxtaposing realistic images that have the
urgency of newspaper photos, simple cartoons, richly modeled renderings, and
fields of saturated color. While this kind of cross-fertilization of styles is
often seen in contemporary art, what sets his work apart is that it is suffused
with a raw passion that calls to mind the guileless, energetic fervor of
untrained Outsider Artists.
Harris is painting for more than just
pleasure. Whether he is making a painting about slavery and its continuing
legacy of racial injustice or finding the beauty and dignity in the face of an
individual, it’s not just an intellectual exercise. There is deep spiritual
searching going on throughout his work.
In one of his most remarkable
paintings, “Composition,” a cross appears to be hovering against a gritty,
ruinous brick wall. It’s a simple, straightforward symbol of hope and
redemption, but what makes it so powerful is the drama of its raw red and black
surfaces. Harris worked for eight months meticulously painting and scraping the
intricate scars and scorch marks on both cross and wall so that they evoke a
visceral sense of history and time. This could be the brick wall of a Maryland
plantation house, an inner city ghetto or a concentration camp, any place where
suffering has tested, strengthened and awakened the human spirit.
Harris’s work scrutinizes many levels
of slavery from the literal keeping of people in bondage to the psychological
and spiritual bondage of repression, poverty, anger and temptation. It’s
fascinating to observe how he constantly experiments with techniques for
creating the images and effects he is seeking. Consciously welcoming mistakes
and accidents (including the glass breaking partway through creating the work)
much as the Abstract Expressionists did, he takes these mishaps as
opportunities by adapting to them and learning from them, often creating a
richer painting in the process.
The most unforgettable painting in
the show is “Omar,” a spare black and white image of a black man’s face
emerging from deep darkness. It’s made simply with dots of white on the glass
and black painted behind, but the man’s steady, tired eyes and slightly parted
lips convey an astonishing sensitivity, intelligence and depth of character.
It’s as if you’re seeing into this man’s soul and finding radiance behind his
suffering, patience and strength.
There’s a sense of discovery running
through all of Harris’s works. In using art as a method of searching for
understanding, even as a healing force, his open, experimental attitude to its
possibilities parallels and supports his post-addiction choice to approach
life’s challenges as opportunities for learning and growth.
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