Ilene Berman

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Thoughts

Essay from Unnatural State exhibition catalogue by Olubukola Gbadegesin

UNNATURAL STATE: The Experience of Absence and Critical Agency

With the recent high interest in social consciousness, more contemporary artists are developing new, compelling practices that speak to countless structural injustices in our society. For some, this path is a response to the present moment, while for others, it represents a lifelong commitment to socially engaged art-making that is vital to everyday life. Unnatural State belongs in the latter category—as a moment of meditation in an ongoing artistic journey that thoughtfully centers critical pedagogy as its subject and method.

But what is critical pedagogy? In his influential book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Brazilian philosopher and educator Paolo Freire describes critical pedagogy as a profound civic, political, and moral practice, that can nurture self-reflection, critical thinking, and imagination in socially engaged students. Critical pedagogy offers a vision of education as a practice of freedom that creates conditions in which we can explore how to be informed, thoughtful, people in the world. Freire urges us not to sacrifice the possibilities offered by education in order to churn out students as workers for market-driven, corporate labor demands. Instead, critical pedagogy theorizes that teaching can help us to confront the oppressive systems that shape our daily lives by nurturing habits of freedom that guide us to live promising, self-determined, informed, socially responsible lives.

With the wave of teachers strikes that swept across the United States in 2018-19, traditional public education is clearly an urgent issue facing American society. Even as they rallied against real and impactful attacks against public education—slashed budgets, “teaching to the test” policies, racist allocation of resources—these educators also raised important questions about our values as Americans and the conditions of education in our communities. Does the state of our schools and classrooms today reflect our ideals as individuals and as a society? As critical citizens doing their part to realize the promise of a worthy democracy, these activist-educators are also proof of the critical pedagogy that Freire theorized. With these protests, they affirm that education itself is an embodied civic, political, and moral practice that encourages critical agency in teachers and learners alike.

As individuals, it can be hard to imagine how to put these ideas into practice in everyday ways that might transform the hard realities around us. With the Art Bike, Room13Delmar, an ongoing project started well before this exhibit, Ilene Berman roots her art-making practice in communities north of Delmar Blvd that feel these oppressive structures the most in St. Louis City. Stripped of public services and funding, this predominantly Black area remains home to thousands of families, elders, professionals, and children, who bear the inter-generational brunt of this civic neglect.

As in many other American cities, education is often the first public service to be cut, and with that, arts programs quickly disappeared north of Delmar. Even though the area is directly adjacent to the Grand Arts Center—a large well-funded art hub in the city—it is often overlooked in the St Louis arts ecosystem. Shared civic space and proximity don’t seem to make a difference to decisionmakers. But, moved by Freire’s ideas, Ilene collaborates in long-term, exploratory, art-making practices with a group of elderly residents of Renaissance Senior Living located north of Delmar. Using their collective knowledge, interests, and abilities to guide their work together, these collaborators create new conditions of learning in the pursuit of free imagination, and civic identity.

While Unnatural State grows out of Ilene’s work with Room13Delmar, it is also influenced by experiences at a three-week residency at Pocoapoco, a multi-disciplinary, research-based residency and cultural exchange project in Oaxaca, Mexico. Here, working with a local after-school program, Paz and Play, she collaborated with a group of young children in experimental play and artmaking using paint and video cameras. The results of these experiences of free imaginative learning are included in this installation.

And so, in a practice that is local and international, Unnatural State contends with space as a critical but silent factor in our experiences of the world. At the heart of this installation is the contention that, in education, the closed and limited space of the classroom often creates an unnatural relationship with learning. Though it is presented in three different ‘rooms’, the exhibit is conceived of as a cohesive experience. Each spacious ‘room’ offers remnants of artifacts we can quickly associate with learning, but that evoke different meanings or memories from person to person. Each ‘room’ evokes a contrasting sense of potential and constraint.

Blank chalkboards and institutional floors—the inevitable, yet incomplete template of a conventional classroom—invite us to fill the void with our own past experiences or imagined visions. What does this emptiness evoke for you? Like much of the exhibit, this empty space encourages visitors to fully experience the absences— physically, emotionally, and intellectually—and enter into the larger conversation about critical agency that the installation has initiated.

Over there, a tangle of school desks is carelessly tossed aside. But unlike the typical, factory-made, uncomfortable surfaces that still sit in classrooms today, these carefully hand-stitched, soft, natural replicas are made of felt.This thoughtful substitution elevates a kind of loving attention and emotional integrity that isn’t required by pedagogical dogma, with all its rigidity. What more is expressed by remaking these desks in this way? Years ago, I remember glancing into a storage closet or two where I saw broken piles of desks that couldn’t bend or move the way that a classmate wanted. And that person usually ended up in detention for their efforts. Looking at this assemblage, we may wonder what other remnants of education are tossed aside, or locked away, without thought? How does this disregard shape our experience with these spaces?

And throughout this experience, the faint sounds of playful conversation drifts gently throughout all three spaces. In a third ‘room,’ a video projects images of friends, nature, and sky onto a wall, as seen through the eyes of an unsupervised thirteen-year-old with a video camera.The camera attention flits briefly from some plants, to the walkway, then to the bright blue sky. These relatable, nostalgic flashes are reminders of free play and experimentation—the natural states of childhood that we all enjoyed but are often stripped from our pedagogical practices.

Across these different spaces, Ilene Berman’s work strikes an evocative contrast of soft yet austere simplicity, like finding traces of tenderness in an empty house that almost prompts visitors to imagine what was or could be there again. This installation challenges us to reconsider our relationships with the spaces and experiences that we move through in our everyday lives.

In its subtle use of color, Unnatural States continues to evoke the affirming possibility of liberating practices of pedagogy. With its muted tones and palettes, the show is committed to the notion of organic and natural expressions of self and environment. How do these soft hues resonate with you in this space? In the soft grey of the felt material, the cool woodgrain of the floors, and the dark slate of the chalkboards, there is a sense of intentional, elemental minimalism in the choice and placement of these materials and colors.

By contrast, the flashes of brighter shades—like clear blues—are even more striking and evocative. Simulating the hues of the sky in Oaxaca, the azure shade is concentrated in the video ‘room’—from where the children’s voices emanate. A square of blue linen hangs on the wall, echoing the flashes of blue from the scenes in the video. How does this added grace note impact your experience of this space? In this room, the focus is on children, play, and the beauty of the place, brilliantly captured in the invigorating blue of the sky. What does the color evoke for you? Here, the color may lend a sense of clarity to the room that is, likely intentionally, lacking from the other spaces. However, like the sound that floats throughout the entire installation, the possibility of calm and lucidity is not foreclosed to those other spaces. Even with its underlying critique, Unnatural State leaves the door open to transformation.

Henry A. Giroux alludes to the intersection of education and art, writing that, “as a performative practice, pedagogy takes as one of its goals the opportunity for learners to be able to reflectively frame their own relationship to the ongoing project of an unfinished democracy.” In Unnatural State, art-making as a performative practice is inseparable from pedagogy. The installation is a critique of the dogmas that can come with conventional learning spaces, an embrace of cross-generational learning, and an imaginative vision of critical agency. These ideas resonate in its collection of hard surfaces remade in soft material, hints of absences in wide open spaces, and the sounds and sights of children playing freely.

Over several years, Ilene introduced me to a deeper understanding of Paolo Freire’s work in long conversations about the changing, increasingly dispassionate direction of education in the US— the United States or Unnatural State. Her courses center on social practice in the arts and engaging students in reflective conversations about their lived experiences, not just the curriculum. And so, even in this aspect of life, she continues to intentionally and thoughtfully integrate critical agency into her practice—though sustaining the balance remains a challenge, as with us all. In this way, Unnatural State, implicates the artist, the viewer, our ideals, pedagogy, and American society at large. The installation urges us to confront our own complicity in our lived realities and look inwardly for our own capacities to transform them. So, as you experience an Unnatural State and embrace the feelings that arise— questioning is encouraged. Indeed, the mission of this installation is to create a set of conditions through which we can probe our critical agency in the world.

Ilene Berman
A piece from the Interchange Artists Grant application

This project addresses the need to challenge the embedded narrative of life north of Delmar in order to impact the negative consequences of that narrative for people living there. It will facilitate this change by being a public platform for the insertion of the lived experiences of the Room13Delmar artists into the narrative of our city. These experiences will be shared through the artwork of the Room13Delmar artists who have been creating together for six years. The artists have expressed a desire to share their creations with their community.  The mobile gallery will be a vehicle for sharing their work. This is not just about accessibility to art: the visibility of the creative life north of Delmar is an important piece of challenging the power dynamics in St. Louis. These dynamics are the result of historical exclusionary covenants and systemic inequalities that have created the hyper-segregated situation St. Louis finds itself in today. As Paulo Freire says, "Hence, the radical requirement—both for the individual who discovers himself or herself to be an oppressor and for the oppressed—that the concrete situation which begets oppression must be transformed." The studio has become a site of transformation that positively impacts the social structures in the lives of its artist members. The public nature of our mobile gallery will extend that impact by engaging the artists' own communities in exhibitions and performances in their neighborhood that celebrate both the joys and challenges of life north of Delmar.

Ilene Berman
Studio Artists Respond to CAM

Dear Contemporary Art Museum,

On Wednesday, We, the Room13Delmar artists at Renaissance Senior Living had a conversation about the recent events in the museum and how or if it affects our participation in Open Studios. We don’t know much about the art world but we do know about relationships and how to treat people.

We feel that the museum did not do its job in preparing for the current exhibition. You should have been ready for the conversation and, when it happened, you should not have shut it down.

We want our neighborhood to see our artwork but we do not feel we can partner with the Museum to make that happen.

We want to express our concern and respect for De Nichols. We stand with her and imagine that her feelings are hurt.

In addition, one of our artists wants you to know: I am a 78 year old black proud lady wondering how could this man be so disrespectful to black women. I wonder what places the idea in his head to degrade women further by smearing toothpaste and chocolate over the images? Who gave him permission to display his work? These men need help, they need to fall on their knees and ask God and the public for forgiveness.

We are learning to express ourselves in our artwork. One way to do that is to choose when and where our art is shared. We ask that you withdraw our participation from Open Studios on October 8 and remove Room13Delmar from the event website.

Ms. Lucy Foster

Brenda Lomax

Ms. Willine Taylor

Ms. Delaphine

Ilene Berman

 

Ilene Berman
Visionary Award Acceptance Speech

I am an artist with what is called a social practice. Trained as a sculptor, I use materials and processes to critique and celebrate social structures. One of the beautiful things about being a sculptor is that you develop a sensitivity to the use of specific materials to tell your stories. Clay can speak of the earth, humility and warmth; textiles speak of humanity, time investment and connections. As my social practice has developed, relationships and time have become key sculptural materials. How else could I create an understanding of a specific social structure than through relationships and committing the time to listening and being a part of the surrounding conversation?

The beauty of entering into conversations about a city as artists is that we aren’t expected to have all the answers. We enter the conversation with our creativity, and with our ability to see things differently. For example my arts practice, NODhouse and room13delmar, were born from walking the entire footprint of Grand Center, from Lindell to Cook Avenue and experiencing the shift at Delmar and Grand. At first I thought the shift was the result of the built environment, the lack of beautiful lighting and flower boxes north of Delmar and how it embodies the history of this divisive street: the investment in one area of the city compared to the neglect in another. But, since spending time there, I’ve learned that what is important is not the absence of lights and flowers but the absence of institutional support for the public sharing of the creativity north of Delmar.

So, the question became, how could I both celebrate that creativity, and critique the absence of its public storytelling?

That is how room13delmar began. The mobile studio functions as both a celebration of the creativity that already exists north of Delmar, as well as a critique of the absence of that creativity in the offerings of the Arts District. Over the last year and a half, groups of us in the four blocks north of Delmar (some of whom are here tonight) have been developing relationships of creative trust. And with that trust, the expectation of being seen and heard.

Teacher and philosopher Paulo Friere said, “If I am not in the world simply to adapt to it, but rather transform it, and if it is not possible to change the world without a certain dream or vision for it, I must make use of every possibility there is, not only to speak about my utopia, but also to engage in practices consistent with it.” My utopia is a place where each person expects that his or her life matters; a city that honestly critiques itself, and whose institutions celebrate the lived experiences of all of its citizens. We can do much better here in the Arts District. We can make a permanent home for the Black Repertory Theatre. We can fill opening nights at Portfolio Gallery and purchase artists’ work there, and, we can include, a First Night Stage, north of Delmar.

Lives are enriched by the work of artists. I know that each of the visionary women honored here tonight can tell you of a time that her life was impacted by experiencing the work of a female artist. Grand Center will fulfill its mission when it ensures that its Black neighbors experience their stories being expressed by Black artists throughout the Arts District. We can create such a reality together. We need only a shared vision and a commitment to using ‘every possibility there is not only to speak about (our) utopia, but also to actively engage in practices consistent with it.’

Ilene Berman
I'll Take 17 exhibition

When speaking with a St. Louis Public School teacher about class size, Ilene Berman mentioned the National Education Association’s statistic of 15 students as the optimum class size for learning. To this, the teacher immediately responded, “I’ll Take 17”. We know students learn best through meaningful, intimate relationships with their instructors. For families with the means to seek alternatives to the public school system, the most frequently asked question is: “What is your average class size?”, underscoring the fact that small classes are a commonly-acknowledged and top-prioritized educational asset. And yet, in the St. Louis Public School System, additional classrooms are allotted only after class size exceeds 30 students. Furthermore, administrators in the system publicly cite class-size reduction as an unaffordable expense, while teachers cite overwhelming class size as a reason not to continue teaching. During the fifteen years Berman was an artist-in-residence in the St. Louis Public School System, the district invested in several multimillion-dollar learning programs – including No Child Left Behind and the Common Core – none of which addressed class size. How can any educational initiative succeed when, at the most basic level, students are unable to simply be heard or seen? “I’ll Take 17” examines the critical importance of this very issue while also questioning art’s capacity to adequately address such pragmatic concerns. Using participatory elements — such as mural-scaled chalkboards on which the public can write, an immersive audio installation that simulates the aural assault of an over-populated classroom, and palpable textures such as felt-covered school desks – Berman attempts to physically position the viewer within the considered conflict. Through this subtle sensory entreaty, perhaps active educational change can be inspired and art’s capacity for public reform expanded.

—Jessica Baran, fort gondo compound for the arts

Ilene Berman
documenting without faces

In his new book, What We Made, Tom Finkerpearl says, “One of my pet peeves…. is that I don’t like to look at photographs of public art that don’t include the audience.” (pg 72). When I first read that sentence I was in complete agreement but something happened yesterday with Room13Delmar that made me reconsider the images of people in documentation.

Two young men were making holiday cards for their children and partners while Room13Delmar was on the sidewalk of Grand Boulevard, north of Delmar. One of them asked for some help with spelling and the other told me he had never used a glue stick before. Their cards and their faces were so beautiful, I would have loved to have had a photo of them. However, it was so clear that what was important about the moment was being present, sharing the experience with them. If I were to take out my camera and photograph them, we would no longer be in the moment together, there would all of a sudden be a ‘them’ and a ‘me’.

I didn’t take a picture the entire time they were with me at Room13Delmar, the experience, in public, north of Delmar, is exactly what Room13Delmar is about. Some would tell me that that type of documentation is exactly what I need to be able to tell the story of Room13Delmar. However, the story of Room13Delmar is only as beautiful as the moments that make up Room13Delmar; these moments have to be the focus at all times.

For today, I will rely on words to tell the story and, an image of Room13Delmar quietly in situ.

Ilene Berman
first post

In the Spring of 2010 a public art sculpture, NODhouse,

was planned to be installed on an empty lot in the city of St. Louis, north of Delmar Avenue. Speaking to St. Louis’ historical divide between investment and neglect, visibility and invisibility and black and white, NODhouse is an attempt at breaking down the experiential wall of one part of one city. It is one artist’s way of drawing attention to the ease with which those of us with privilege are able to move back and forth across this boundary while leaving some of our fellow citizens behind. By choosing to place my own work north of Delmar Avenue on Grand Boulevard, I am challenging the stead-fastness of this divide and its consequences for those living both north and south of it. Two weeks before the installation was to begin, the alderwoman pulled her support for the project.

Instead, in late Fall 2010, I installed embroidered NODhouse manifesto pledges in businesses and a school facing Grand Boulevard north of Delmar. Each pledge was embroidered with gold floss onto a linen napkin, framed and accompanied by an artist statement and a printed copy of the entire manifesto. The installation embodies what I came to identify as the three details of the work on which I would not compromise: first, the site of the installation is the Grand Center Arts District, more specifically the blocks of Grand Boulevard north of Delmar Avenue; second, the placement of my own artwork north of Delmar expresses my commitment to challenging the experiential wall of Delmar Avenue; and, third, the work itself, NODhouse, is realized through the respectful building of relationships.

What I could not have known before entering into the process of creating this exhibition was the beauty of the responses I would receive from the people I asked to partner with me through their granting permission for the hanging of a framed manifesto pledge. It was with their cooperation that the community around NODhouse was formalized and the affirmation of the belief that art can be used to change the world was given. This website is a record of the people, ideas and experiences that are NODhouse so far. NODhouse continues to grow.

Ilene Berman
NODhouse Manifesto (2009)

Through this manifesto, I pledge

  • to reject as inevitable the reality of long-standing divides between black and white citizens in my city,

  • to reject as inevitable the reality of long-standing divides between rich and poor citizens in my city,

  • to use the unique opportunities created through the arts to challenge the barrier separating the areas to the north and south of Delmar Avenue,

  • to ask my fellow artists what their plans are for expanding the Grand Avenue Arts District north of Delmar,

  • to promote the expansion of the arts district across Delmar Avenue,

  • to install my art north of Delmar Avenue,

  • to invite all of St. Louis to experience art north of Delmar Avenue,

  • to share the process of coming together in dialogue and relationship to create positive change in my city,

  • to act on my belief that art can (and should) change the world and, lastly,

  • to proudly own the idealism expressed through this manifesto.

Ilene Berman