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Frederick Douglass (Version 1) No. 1
Glenn Ligon
Artwork 2001
Artwork: Glenn Ligon, Frederick Douglass (Version 1) No. 1 (2001). Oil crayon and silkscreen on primed canvas. 120.7 x 90.2 cm. Private collection.
Artist Glenn Ligon Title Frederick Douglass (Version 1) No. 1 Date 2001 Materials Oil crayon and silkscreen on primed canvas Dimensions 120.7 x 90.2 cm Credit Private collection

In Ligon’s Colouring series – to which Frederick Douglass (Version 1) No. 1 belongs – the artist reproduced drawings from Afrocentric colouring books published in the optimistic decade of the 1970s. Following the Civil Rights Movement in the USA, a political emphasis on the pictorial representation of black Americans saw the publication of many such pedagogical images. In a series of workshops, Ligon invited children to colour in drawings copied from such books. Most showed significant black American figures, such as Martin Luther King Jr and Malcolm X – though they largely went unrecognised by the primary-school participants. The irreverent scrawls and unintentional iconoclasm of the children’s crayons were later transcribed onto the artist’s canvas. “Ligon’s paintings,” art writer Liz Blackford suggests, “highlight the slippery nature of representation and the apparent desecration of these cultural icons... [H]e emphasises the unsettling extent to which the meaning of an image is socially determined.” The children, unconcerned with questions of identity politics, saw the images without the cultural and political import adults assign them.

Frederick Douglass (b.1818), for those unfamiliar with his name – children and adults alike – was an influential abolitionist and social reformer. An escaped slave turned statesman, he is remembered for his incisive antislavery tracts and autobiographical writings.

b.1960, New York

“Cultural translation, like any other translation,” the artist Glenn Ligon says, “is always involved with loss, the untranslatable, excess meanings, the indecipherable.” Recognised for his language-based conceptualism, Ligon’s practice cleaves cultural representation from its pictorial and linguistic signs. He works against the assumed legibility of black bodies to explore African American identity and queer sexuality, gesturing to the inadequacies of representation, to the imperfect translation of lived experience in image and word. He borrows widely from literature and popular culture yet disrupts the call and response these familiar quotations inspire, the recognition and implied meaning they have come to signify. Ligon invites the viewer to look again, to see anew, to re-evaluate the implications of these shared symbols.

Somebody, nobody, no body
Lucienne Bestall

The present and implied figure in A4's inventory of artworks. – January 24, 2025

Path page
Somebody, nobody, no body
Lucienne Bestall
The present and implied figure in A4’s inventory of artworks. – January 24, 2025
Path page

A place to start: with personhood, with the most direct impression.

Indexical in medium, the figure named, their likeness legible.

David Goldblatt's black-and-white photograph 'Ephraim Zulu watering his garden, 179 Central Western Jabavu, Soweto. September' shows a man seated on a chair in a yard, holding a hosepipe. In the background is a dog and a woman.
Lindokuhle Sobekwa's photograph 'Zenandi' shows a child sitting on an outcropping of rock on a grassy hill.

A more oblique example of the same mode –

Artwork photograph that shows George Hallett’s framed monochrome photographic diptych ‘Peter Clarke’s Tongue’, from the Customs exhibition in A4’s Gallery, mounted on a white wall.

Another at the edge of effacement –

Artwork photograph that shows Dor Guez’s photographic print ‘Samira’ from the Customs exhibition in A4’s Gallery.

Then:

A less direct form, but still a resemblance. The sitters named, resolutely themselves. (Arranged in degrees of clarity: Dora Sowden, Terrence and Mom).

Things begin to slip.

Here, a name and the word 'portrait'. Portrait of Julia. But no likeness to speak of. Instead – gestures, thickness, muddy opacity.

Named again, an image of a historical figure denied by a child's eclipsing crayon.

There are others without overture to personhood, similarly obscured (struck through by whiteness or hidden beneath spreading blackness).

Still another, rendered faceless by fire.

Even the photographed figure at times resists the medium's ambitions to precisely transcribe their likeness, becoming ghostly and indistinct, given without name.

Or appearing as a portrait of absence –

Sabelo Mlangeni’s ‘Absence of Identities’, a black and white photograph that depicts the shadowed faces of a bride and groom.

There are then those figures that remain hidden, are disguised beneath cloth or bound in hazard tape. All betray the individual (or deity) beneath – in title or image.

A photograph of Christo's collotype print and collage 'Wrapped monument to Leonardo, Project for the Piazza Della Scala, Milan'.

Others are wholly absent, recalled in only the empty vessels of clothing: hats without heads, sleeves without limbs. Where some remember named individuals, others evoke anonymous figures.

Jo Ractliffe's monochrome photograph print 'Roadside stall on the way to Viana, from the series 'Terreno Ocupado'.
An installation photograph of Haroon Gunn-Salie and James Mathews' installation 'Amongst Men' shows casts of kufiyas suspended from the ceiling.
A photograph of Kevin Beasley's untitled resin, garment and umbrella sculpture standing on a concrete floor.

Present in degrees of likeness, or hidden, erased, obscured and absent – the body that is somebody and the body that is no body. There are others.

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