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Hank Willis Thomas in Conversation with Eva Respini, Vancouver, 2024

 

 

Installation view of Offsite: Hank Willis Thomas, site-specific installation at Vancouver Art Gallery Offsite from June 7, 2024 to June 8, 2025, Photo: Vancouver Art Gallery

 

Eva Respini (ER): Hank, you and I have known each other a long time. We first worked together in 2009 and now we’re doing this project in Vancouver where we’ve brought together three of your stainless-steel outdoor sculptures for the first time. I want to talk about how you began as an artist and how I got to know you, which was really through the lens of image making.

 

Hank Willis Thomas (HWT): I always introduce myself as Hank, as a person. I think I was partially inspired by a piece I did where I used footage from James Baldwin’s speeches. His line that a person is more important than anything else has stuck with me, and I connect that to the ways in which people of African descent have been dehumanized and stripped of their personhood for centuries. As a descendant of slaves and indentured servants—and likely slaveholders as well—it is important to me that I forefront my personhood. When I was growing up, my mother, Deborah Willis—who is an art historian and a photographer, and also an artist and a writer and a great mom—imparted this pursuit of using photography as a way to put forth this very obvious idea, but one that is not often acknowledged in society. That people of African descent are people, and we always have been. I see myself as continuing that legacy. Because there wasn’t a period where I consciously started to do it, I didn’t realize I was an artist until after I’d already graduated with an MFA in Photography and an MA in Visual and Critical Studies. I already had a BFA in Photography and African Studies. I think I was nearly 30 before I realized that I was and continue to follow in my mom’s footsteps—and, I am an artist. I guess I’m a late bloomer.

 

ER: One of the things I see in your practice is this notion of thinking through how images form who we are and tell us about our histories. But also, how they travel within this world. You are interested in a media landscape—advertising and images that are used for purposes other than art. Can you speak about that?

 

HWT: When we talk about my mother, I think about her influences. People like Roy DeCarava, but also Gordon Parks, who wrote an autobiography called A Choice of Weapons (1966) that addressed how the camera was a tool—a weapon for him—to confront racism and injustice all around the world. We have historically thought about photographs as documents, just recordings of events. But really, they’re storytelling tools. What they focus on—we use the term shooting—shoots us forwards or backwards into space and time. What’s included in the frame of the camera is important, but what’s outside of the frame is actually more important. By targeting certain moments, we say these are important or these people are important, which inherently says everything else is not. I’ve felt it was imperative to investigate the value of that framework and to interrogate it. And also, hopefully, complicate it.

 

ER: The notion of what’s in the frame and what gets left out, literally, but also metaphorically, makes me think about perspective. Depending on your perspective, you see different things. These are all photographic terms, but you’ve applied them to sculpture. You mentioned to me that you consider the three sculptures on view here in Vancouver photographic. Can you say more?

 

HWT: I slip up often when I’m talking about the sculptures and say “I photographed this”—we think about pictures only as things that are presented only on a two-dimensional plane. But these sculptures are recorded with the camera. We have people create certain positions and we capture them in a three-dimensional space with a scanner and then go through various additionally complicated processes to re-present them or print them. To me it’s basically the same process: you take a picture, you crop it and you print it. And so, these works are three-dimensional photographs to me.

 

Detail of Hank Willis Thomas, Duality (Reflection), 2022, at OffsiteDetail of Hank Willis Thomas, Nexus, 2022, at Offsite

 

ER: Why do you use polished stainless steel? In my mind, that surface is very photographic due to its reflective qualities, but I don’t know if you think of it that way.

 

HWT: I only started using this material in the last four or five years, and this is the first time I’ve seen a collection of my polished stainless-steel sculptures together. This presentation gives it a different context. When you see three polished stainless-steel sculptures—eight, ten and twelve feet tall—it has a very different impact because you’re seeing yourself in the distorted reflection of these forms. There’s an image within the image, so to speak. Because this is the first time I’ve seen them in this context, I’m still processing what it means as a body of work. And that’s really exciting for me.

 

ER: I think they look phenomenal together and highlight this notion of cropping. Each of the three sculptures—which are titled Strike (2021), Duality (Reflection) (2022) and Nexus (2022)—depict isolated gestures, essentially they are cropped. Perhaps you can talk about the making of Strike because it has an image reference. It’s such a powerful gesture, especially at that scale, which is much larger than life size.

 

HWT: When the Whitney Museum reopened in 2015, the inaugural exhibition was titled America is Hard to See, and it featured so many images from 20th century “America,” meaning the United States of America. I was really drawn by the diversity of representations of America, and specifically to a series of lithographs by an artist named Louis Lozowick. There was one image that depicted an African-American protestor and a strike buster during the period in the 1930s when there was a lot of union organizing and resistance, and then oppression to break that. This image depicts a person with a baton and someone grabbing the wrist of the person with the baton.

 

Strike reference imageHank Willis Thomas, Nexus, 2022, and Strike, 2021, at Offsite

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about Roland Barthes’ notion of the punctum—the thing that pierces you—which he almost always talks about in the context of a photograph. In this print, the hand holding the hand holding the weapon is the punctum. That tension was something that I wanted to re-present. So, I reimagined it and 3D scanned two people remaking it in a different way. I like the idea that you’re looking at something and you’re looking at yourself. I think that was my first stainless-steel sculpture, and that one was life size, and it was very exciting for me to think about my work and representation in that way with this mirror finish. It felt like it was even more important to revisit that image in the civil unrest of 2020 after the killing of George Floyd, so I made a ten-foot version because I wanted to make a monumental sculpture to this form of resistance.

 

ER: Sadly, I think this sculpture continues to feel relevant in our current moment. One of the things that I like about all the sculptures on view is their proximity to where public discourse happens here in Vancouver. Every action, every demonstration begins or ends around the Vancouver Art Gallery.

 

The sculptures that are on view represent different gestures—we just talked about a gesture of resistance. I also see gestures of intimacy, exaltation, the range of humanity, if you will. I’m interested in the combination of these different gestures and expressions that are made by these bodies. Can you talk a little bit about the other two works—Nexus and Duality (Reflection)?

 

HWT: There’s a common theme that I only realized this morning while thinking about these works. While I’m using this cold stainless steel to render very warm, organic parts of our bodies—our hands, our arms—the work is about intimacy. It’s about the intimacy of a gesture, of touch, of even conflict. And I’m realizing that they speak to many of the ways that we relate to other people in public space. We fight, we dance and we protest. Strike is about conflict. Nexus is the two arms that are interlaced; they’re almost dancing or spinning, in the midst of a twirl. But they also reference the double helix. Protest is represented in the peace or victory gesture, which can be a sign of resistance or a call to accountability, a plea for peace, for common resolution. Can you think of other ways that we tend to interact with people in public space?

 

ER: I think you’ve captured those major modes of interaction, most of which are intimate. Even anger is intimacy; to express anger is to be vulnerable.

 

HWT: So maybe we fight, we love, we protest. Duality came to me as I was reflecting on the tension of this time and how to reconcile with it, and coming to terms with the reality that violence is a form of intimacy. We tend to be violent with people who we feel like we’re entangled with in some way. And a lot of my work attempts to highlight the misguidedness of that. In some ways the gestures in these sculptures are very simple and obvious because everyone has body parts, and everyone who can see, can see themselves. But on a deeper level, because there is a phenomenological experience that is related to the corporeal experience, the sculpture works on a subconscious level as well. I feel viscerally responsive when I see Strike. And I struggle to reconcile the entanglement of Nexus.

 

ER: I like that as an artist, you’re still figuring out what the works mean to you and what they mean in the public sphere. It’s hard to make public sculptures. Everybody has an opinion on it. At the site here it’s in the middle of a busy street, and amidst this landscape of skyscrapers are these moments of humanity.

 

When I lived in Boston, I had the real privilege and pleasure of watching you create and erect this beautiful monument, The Embrace (2023), to Dr. Martin Luther King and Coretta Scott King. It’s a monument for our time. The topic of monuments is quite thorny, but you are an artist that has put yourself forward as thinking about what art in the public sphere means today. I would love to hear more about how you got to that practice, and how you’re thinking through working in the public sphere where everybody has an opinion, and you can’t please everyone.

 

HWT: I think being an artist is about being comfortable with the process of facing yourself, coming to terms with your limitations, and also challenging yourself to go beyond what you think is possible. I think there’s a lot to be learned in the public sphere from artistic practices, particularly those who are engaged with critical thinking, vulnerability and evolution. A lot of the artwork that we see in public space is advertising, which doesn’t have a reflectiveness or thoughtfulness. It’s just telling us what to want, how to look, where to be. Public art forms some of the only public spaces where we’re given an opportunity to contemplate, to revisit things that aren’t logical.

 

I went to high school in Washington, D.C., where there are a lot of public monuments. There is the Washington Monument, famously; there’s the U.S. Capitol Building and the Jefferson Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial. All of them have this imposing, often patriarchal perspective. But there’s also the Vietnam Veterans Memorial—which is much more recent—that invites viewers to be in it in a very different way. You descend into the Memorial and read the names of the soldiers who were sacrificed for “American values.” We feel implicated in it and reflective. That had a huge impact on my thinking about how public space could be used. The Embrace, a 24-foot bronze sculpture, looks and feels very different from the outside than when you’re inside it. Because when you walk inside of the sculpture, you’re standing in the heart of their embrace. Just by their positioning the viewer becomes the heart, and their heart is the heartbeat. And I love the idea of being able to make work that implicates myself and the viewer. You don’t know how to feel about it, you’re not resolved. But you also know that it’s a part of you. And not everyone’s comfortable with that.

 

When there was the media stir around The Embrace, I was invited to come to terms with the notion that it’s not about me. Who built the pyramids, who created the Statue of Liberty? Who designed the Washington Monument? Who designed the Lincoln Monument? I don’t know. They’re here now and we have to deal with them. And I realized that is the power of making public art: your larger audience will likely not experience the work in your lifetime.

 

ER: That is a very profound thought. Is there anything else you want to say about the sculptures on display in Vancouver?

 

HWT: I had never thought about the relationship between these works until we began talking. Having someone else look at my work gives me an opportunity to reframe my whole way of looking at it. I had never considered that the major themes of my work are protest, play and love. And now I will be saying that for some time!

 

ER: I had the opportunity to install Strike in New York last year, but in a very different context. There were other sculptures by other artists, it was an art fair, which is always a very cacophonous environment. I have to say that the clarity of your vision was clear even in that cacophonous environment.

 

HWT: Because of that presentation at the art fair and your vision, Strike is now being installed by the Equal Justice Initiative in Freedom Park in Montgomery, Alabama, and it’s the first time this sculpture will be in public space permanently. I hope the other sculptures also get that opportunity. It means a lot for it to be out in the world, so thank you for that.

 

Installation view of Offsite: Hank Willis Thomas

 

ER: We’ve talked a lot about you making work for the public sphere. I would also posit that you are a public intellectual. The work that you do, your practice, is multiple in that there are many roles you play in the public sphere. Can you talk a little bit about your non-studio practice, the work that you do with For Freedoms, for example?

 

HWT: There are many elements to myself and the work that I do, partially because I’ve never, as a Black person, wanted to be put into a box. While the framework of a public intellectual feels good to my ego, I really think it’s something else. Is there a “heartellectual”? Something that’s a little bit more corny? There are so many forces in the world that attempt to take us away from our hearts. Humanity did not survive because of what we think. It’s our capacity to love that’s carried us through.

 

My practice is always not far away from that, of finding that spirit. And that means that I get to work with other artists like Michael Murphy of MASS Design or create a collective called For Freedoms. Now, thousands of artists have worked together in the spirit of putting critical discourse into political discourse through fine art thinking. Or Wide Awakes, which posited this notion of civic joy. Only an artist can really put those ideas forward, ideas that otherwise aren’t given a lot of space because of the way we’ve been conditioned to operate in the world. There is no limit to the human experience that we’ve found yet. And that’s what creativity is about.

 

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

 

 

Hank Willis Thomas with his work at Offsite, Photo: Vancouver Art Gallery

ABOUT THE ARTIST
In his wide-ranging conceptual art practice, Hank Willis Thomas explores how contemporary society commodifies race and gender. His works—which span photography, sculpture, installation and more—often reflect on mass media representations and social justice. Originally trained as a photographer, he is interested in how popular imagery from advertisements, mass media and visual media inform cultural attitudes. In using images featuring Black men that circulate widely in popular culture (from Nike ads to political campaign images), the artist encourages the viewer to question commercial representations and cultural stereotypes.

Thomas has increasingly made work for the public realm, creating large-scale outdoor sculptures and monuments. His public sculptures often feature an isolated gesture from a photograph or circulated image, bringing a sense of intimacy to the public sphere. For the first time, three of Thomas’ polished stainless steel sculptures are exhibited together at Offsite, the Vancouver Art Gallery’s public art program. Situated on a bustling intersection in downtown Vancouver, Thomas’ sculptures feature disembodied hand gestures that evoke gestures of protest, care and exaltation.

Thomas’ collaborative projects include Question Bridge: Black Males, In Search Of The Truth (The Truth Booth) and For Freedoms, which was awarded the 2017 ICP Infinity Award for New Media and Online Platform. In 2012, Question Bridge: Black Males debuted at the Sundance Film Festival and was selected for the New Media Grant from the Tribeca Film Institute. Thomas is also the recipient of the Guggenheim Fellowship (2018), AIMIA | AGO Photography Prize (2017), Soros Equality Fellowship (2017) and is a former member of the New York City Public Design Commission.

Thomas’ work has been exhibited throughout the United States and abroad, including at the Philadelphia Photo Arts Center, Pennsylvania (2008); Baltimore Museum of Art, Maryland (2009); International Center of Photography, New York (2013); California African American Museum, Los Angeles (2016); and SCAD Museum of Art, Savannah, Georgia (2017). His work has been included in important group exhibitions at the International Center of Photography, New York (2013); Guggenheim Museum Bilbao, Spain (2015); Brooklyn Museum, New York (2016); and the Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa, Cape Town (2016), among others. His work is held in numerous public collections worldwide, including the Kadist Art Foundation, Paris; San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, California; Smart Museum of Art, Chicago; Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York; and the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York.

Thomas earned a BFA from New York University, New York, in 1998 and an MA/MFA from the California College of the Arts, San Francisco, in 2004. He received honorary doctorates from the Maryland Institute of Art, Baltimore, Maryland, and the Institute for Doctoral Studies in the Visual Arts, Portland, Maine, in 2017. The artist lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.

 

Offsite: Hank Willis Thomas is organized by the Vancouver Art Gallery on behalf of the City of Vancouver Public Art Program and curated by Eva Respini, Deputy Director & Director of Curatorial Programs, with Julie Martin, Curatorial Assistant. It was presented from June 7, 2024 to June 8, 2025.

 

Offsite is the Vancouver Art Gallery’s outdoor public art space in the heart of the city. Presenting an innovative program of temporary projects, it is a site for local and international contemporary artists to exhibit works related to the surrounding urban context. Featured artists consider the site-specific potential of art within the public realm and respond to the changing social and cultural conditions of our contemporary world.

 

Since the launch of Offsite in 2009, the Vancouver Art Gallery has presented twenty-six public artworks in the forms of sculpture, multimedia, film, ceramic and photo-based installations.

 

CURATOR: Eva Respini
PROJECT MANAGER: Julie Martin, Curatorial Assistant, Vancouver Art Gallery
ARTWORKS: Hank Willis Thomas, Duality (Reflection), 2022, polished stainless steel, Courtesy of the Artist and Ben Brown Fine Arts; Nexus, 2022, polished stainless steel, Courtesy of the Artist and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York; and Strike, 2021, polished stainless steel, Courtesy of the Artist and Pace Gallery; Louis Lozowick, Strike Scene, 1935, lithograph, © Louis Lozowick, Courtesy of the Estate of the Artist and Mary Ryan Gallery, New York
PHOTOGRAPHY: Jessica Jacobson and Kyla Bailey, Vancouver Art Gallery

© 2024 Vancouver Art Gallery