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Lot Essay
Kerry James Marshall’s striking Small Pin-Up (Lens Flare), painted in 2013, is the artist’s challenge to centuries of art historical tradition in which the Black figure was either relegated to the sidelines or neglected altogether. Employing a heady blend of scholarly understanding and contemporary portraiture, Marshall presents a bold rendition of this once neglected subject with bravado and confidence. “Somebody had to start placing those figures at the very center of what the work is about,” the artist has said (quoted by C. Walsh, “The Art of the Possible” in The Harvard Gazette, online [accessed: 1/15/2025]). Forming an important body of work within his oeuvre, a sister painting to the present work, Small Pin-up (Fingerwag), also painted in 2013, was included in the artist’s highly acclaimed retrospective exhibition organized by The Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago; The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; and The Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Los Angeles in 2016-2017.
Filling the majority of the canvas, Marshall presents the figure of a Black woman, positioned with her back to us. Looking coquettishly over her shoulder, his subject engages our attention not as a demure object of our gaze, but as the controller of it. While much of her figure is enveloped in shadow, the level of detail which Marshall bestows on the figure displays the true mastery with which he understands his subjects. “Extreme blackness plus grace equals power,” Marshall states, “I see the figures as emblematic; I’m reducing complex variations of tone to rhetorical dimension: blackness” (quoted by L. Tattershall, “Black Lives, Matter” in H. Molesworth, ed., Kerry James Marshall, exh. cat., The Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, 2016, p. 59). In addition to the adroitness with which he renders his figures, in Small Pin-Up (Lens Flare) Marshall adds further flare (literally) by including the photographic effects that result from shooting directly into the sun. This “solarization” results in a halo of sorts around the subject as the sun’s rays are refracted into a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors.
The artist’s Black female figures, such as the example in the present work, are said to be Marshall's response to a 1996 book called The Great American Pin-Up. The book claims to explore the history and cultural importance of the genre, but only includes pictures of white women. “However problematic people might think the idea of the pinups are,” the artist has said, “you still can’t allow the field to be dominated by a single type of image and not have a counter image that represents something else. That’s unacceptable” (quoted by C. Walsh, op. cit.). Marshall deliberately places his work within the history of image making as a whole, in the process giving a voice to those who have often gone unheard. “I think it’s important for a black artist to create black figure paintings in the grand tradition,” the artist has said, “…they don’t immediately call attention to themselves. I started out using history painting as a model because I wanted to claim the right to operate at that level” (quoted by K. Lund in H. Molesworth, ed., exh. cat., op. cit., 2016, p. 116).
Born in 1955 in Birmingham, Alabama, Marshall spent his formative years in South Central Los Angeles, which at that time was embroiled in the often-violent struggle of the Civil Rights Movement. It is against this backdrop that he began to shape his worldview, which naturally leads him to produce work that reflects the social and political reality of black Americans. “You can’t be born in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1955 and not feel like you’ve got some kind of social responsibility,” Marshall has explained, “you can’t move to Watts [in Los Angeles] in 1963 and grow up in South Central near the Black Panthers’ headquarters and see the kinds of things I saw in my developmental years and not speak about it” (K.J. Marshall and D. Smith in Conversation; quoted in Along The Way, Kerry James Marshall, exh. cat., Camden Arts Centre, London, 2005, p. 17).
Filling the majority of the canvas, Marshall presents the figure of a Black woman, positioned with her back to us. Looking coquettishly over her shoulder, his subject engages our attention not as a demure object of our gaze, but as the controller of it. While much of her figure is enveloped in shadow, the level of detail which Marshall bestows on the figure displays the true mastery with which he understands his subjects. “Extreme blackness plus grace equals power,” Marshall states, “I see the figures as emblematic; I’m reducing complex variations of tone to rhetorical dimension: blackness” (quoted by L. Tattershall, “Black Lives, Matter” in H. Molesworth, ed., Kerry James Marshall, exh. cat., The Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, 2016, p. 59). In addition to the adroitness with which he renders his figures, in Small Pin-Up (Lens Flare) Marshall adds further flare (literally) by including the photographic effects that result from shooting directly into the sun. This “solarization” results in a halo of sorts around the subject as the sun’s rays are refracted into a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors.
The artist’s Black female figures, such as the example in the present work, are said to be Marshall's response to a 1996 book called The Great American Pin-Up. The book claims to explore the history and cultural importance of the genre, but only includes pictures of white women. “However problematic people might think the idea of the pinups are,” the artist has said, “you still can’t allow the field to be dominated by a single type of image and not have a counter image that represents something else. That’s unacceptable” (quoted by C. Walsh, op. cit.). Marshall deliberately places his work within the history of image making as a whole, in the process giving a voice to those who have often gone unheard. “I think it’s important for a black artist to create black figure paintings in the grand tradition,” the artist has said, “…they don’t immediately call attention to themselves. I started out using history painting as a model because I wanted to claim the right to operate at that level” (quoted by K. Lund in H. Molesworth, ed., exh. cat., op. cit., 2016, p. 116).
Born in 1955 in Birmingham, Alabama, Marshall spent his formative years in South Central Los Angeles, which at that time was embroiled in the often-violent struggle of the Civil Rights Movement. It is against this backdrop that he began to shape his worldview, which naturally leads him to produce work that reflects the social and political reality of black Americans. “You can’t be born in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1955 and not feel like you’ve got some kind of social responsibility,” Marshall has explained, “you can’t move to Watts [in Los Angeles] in 1963 and grow up in South Central near the Black Panthers’ headquarters and see the kinds of things I saw in my developmental years and not speak about it” (K.J. Marshall and D. Smith in Conversation; quoted in Along The Way, Kerry James Marshall, exh. cat., Camden Arts Centre, London, 2005, p. 17).