The Guardian

Vandals painted her white, then 300 rallied round to restore statue

When the figure of a Black woman on Bexhill seafront was defaced, the artist asked locals to help with repairs. Cue a spontaneous gesture against racism.

By Miranda Bryant

‘I felt that taking action was empowering for people who are hurt and scared by this incident’ Tschabalala Self, artist

When a three-metre-tall sculpture depicting a Black woman leisurely turning in her chair towards the English Channel was spray-painted white by vandals, it was rapidly covered from view.

But when Tschabalala Self, the New York-based artist behind Seated , heard what had happened to her sculpture soon after it was installed at the De La Warr Pavilion in Bexhill-on-Sea, her instinct was to show the defaced work.

What followed was an extraordinary process involving more than 300 volunteers who queued along the promenade to help restore the bronze sculpture that culminated yesterday with a community unveiling with the artist.

The work, her first public sculpture that was previously displayed in London’s Coal Drops Yard, was inspired by a drawing series by the artist that shows male and female Black figures sitting on or embedded into chairs. But in sculptural form in the public sphere it became about leisure and agency, the 33-year-old told the Observer.

“It’s about one’s right to sit, one’s right to claim space and time for themselves. And it’s really about how even the most quotidian gestures can become politicised in one’s identity politics through one’s Blackness.”

In many ways, the fact that a sculpture of a Black woman sitting on a chair could attract such vitriol demonstrated a lot of the ideas that the work was exploring, she said.

“That something as relatively innocuous as a sculpture of a woman in a sun hat and sundress, sitting on a chair, can provoke this level of rage and animosity is, in my opinion, solely because the woman is Black.”

Among the early ideas by the arts centre to respond to the vandalism was an anti-racism protest. But Self requested they remove the tarpaulin covering it – which she felt “perpetuated more fear and anxiety” – and instead invite the community to practically contribute to its restoration by helping to remove the paint before it was professionally repaired.

“I asked the museum to uncover the sculpture so everyone could fully absorb and digest what had happened, and to allow people to participate in the restoration of the sculpture in lieu of a more traditional protest. Because I felt like, at the end of the day, people would visually see how their actions were able to counteract this gesture of hate.”

In the process, the artwork, which first went on display in Bexhill in April before it was vandalised last month, has taken on a new life. “Every single person that touched the sculpture, their hand will forever be embedded in that artwork, and now the work is really owned by that community in a way that it never would have been if not for this incident,” said Self, who works across painting, print making, sculpture and collage.

“Three hundred people in that community have touched it and aided the remaking of it. So it’s truly a public art sculpture in a way I would never have imagined for it to be.”

She was taken aback by the way in which the vandalism was carried out – the “deliberate act” of changing the figure’s skin tone.

“I thought, whoever this person is who’s doing this is really contending with deep psychological issues. Because it’s not a simple act of vandalism, where you kick something over and it’s smashed, or scribble a profanity over it. It’s like you’re attempting to remake it in your own image.”

By inviting the community to contribute to its restoration they were able to contribute to “tangible change,” said Self.

“I felt like that’s far more empowering for people who are upset and hurt and scared by this incident. And it was. It was beautiful to see all those people – and so many more people showed up than I would ever have anticipated – and they were able to take physical action.”

Self, who grew up in Harlem and lives in upstate New York, said before the reopening picnic and talk, she was looking forward to seeing Seated again, which is now “embedded” with the energy of the community, and meeting those who helped restore it.

“The sculpture has this immense power now because of this event – not because of the vandalism, but because of the community restoration. It has been charged with all this energy from all those individuals who have now become part of the artwork.”

Joseph Constable, the De La Warr Pavilion’s head of exhibitions, said it has been a time of heightened tension in the town amid government plans to use a former prison to house asylum seekers.

After the attack on the sculpture the gallery was inundated with messages of support and disappointment from the community. It wanted to take a “strong stance,” he said.

The work, he added, is now “here to stay” for the summer until October. “We’re adamant we’re not going to give in to these violent acts.”

Self has yet to decide where the sculpture will go next, but said it is “doing the work I wanted it to do”.

“It’s not in a way that I ever would have imagined, but these are the dialogues I wanted to have, this is the kind of awareness that I wanted to bring around the unique experiences of Black women, of Black bodies.”

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2023-06-04T07:00:00.0000000Z

2023-06-04T07:00:00.0000000Z

https://guardian.pressreader.com/article/281719798972344

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