Interviews, Issue 4

Claudette Johnson

The intersection of monumental scale and subtle yet vibrant color

Words SUBIN ANDERSON

Photography OLIVIA LIFUNGULA

Claudette Johnson renders her sitters visible through the intersection of monumental scale and subtle, yet vibrant color. Her oeuvres manipulate empty space to amplify the presence of Black women and their lived experiences. Through staging intimate gazes and agential postures, Johnson gestures towards Black women’s exclusion from the canon of art history while also forging a new canon entirely.

SUBIN ANDERSON: You don’t describe yourself as a painter of portraits, as the subject you have chosen is a political statement itself.

CLAUDETTE JOHNSON: I don’t usually describe myself as a portrait painter because I don’t follow many of the conventions of traditional portraiture in my work. I’m not primarily concerned with likeness or making a statement about the sitter’s background, status, or interests. Instead, my focus is on conveying something essential about their presence and something universal about their existence. That said, I have recently accepted a portrait commission in which I have focused on likeness and conveying something about the sitter’s character. But usually, these are not my main concerns.

SA: Representation matters, and it certainly takes on both an aesthetic and political resonance through your works. You represent Black women, first and foremost, as subjects, leaving space for us to find their presence.

CJ: I think because so many stereotypes about black women and men abound, it’s important to resist the urge to present heroic figurations of us that offer a radical alternative to the negative imagery out there. I hope to provide a more intimate view of my subject but on a monumental scale in my work.

SA: Could you talk about what it means for you to work on a large scale?

CJ: Working large-scale makes drawing a much more physical and strenuous act. I am quite small in stature, so working on oversized sheets of paper equal to, or greater than, my height forces me to use the energy of my whole body. I believe this facilitates more dynamic mark-making. It’s also more exciting for me as I feel slightly out of control, and I like not to predict exactly how this will affect the line. Many of the figures in [my] drawings/paintings are larger than life, enabling the viewer to have their field of vision filled by the figure’s presence. I hope that something will resonate with the viewer through this encounter.

SA: Your solo exhibition, Still Here (2021), was created during the lockdown. I believe the title itself connotes the ways in which we are still here, existing, fighting through this pandemic. At the same time, it speaks for all communities and histories that have been made invisible.

CJ: Yes, the lockdown was such a solitary and precarious period—we almost had to pinch ourselves to remind ourselves that we were still here.

SA: You were a prominent member of BLK Art Group, born amidst the regressive British economy and racial disparity in the ‘80s. The group aimed to raise the profile of Black artists and encourage young white artists to be more socially relevant in their practice. Could you take us back to the cultural and social transitions happening during that time—and your recollections of it?

CJ: Joining the BLK Art Group or the WYBAs (Wolverhampton Young Black Artists) as we were initially named was a pivotal moment for me. I was a second-year Fine Art student at Wolverhampton Polytechnic when I met Eddie Chambers, a first-year fine art student at Sunderland Polytechnic. Eddie organized and exhibited in Black Art n’ Done at Wolverhampton Art Gallery. This was the first black art show I had ever seen, and it was inspiring to see raw, passionate works that foregrounded black British experience. Eddie gave a lecture at my art college and afterward came to my college studio space, looked at my work, and invited me to join what became The BLK Art Group. As a group member, I took part in most of the Group’s shows and gave a presentation at The First National Black Art Convention held at Wolverhampton University in 1982. It was a heady time with much-heated debate about what black art should or could be. It also introduced me to a whole community of artists, including Lubaina Himid, Marlene Smith, Keith Piper, Donald Rodney, Frank Bowling, Sonia Boyce, Brenda Agard, Pitika Ntuli, Houria Niatia, Veronic Ryan who were making thrilling and influential work. I feel lucky to have somehow found myself at the epicenter of black creativity in the ‘80s.

SA: Works in this period were about deconstructing the figure and reflecting the discontinuities in history. Untitled, 1987 includes one subject in three different types of views. Here, you create a vertical composition with varying widths, colors, and techniques, providing a multifocal view of the Black women subjects in your work.

CJ: Untitled, 1987 features images of a friend, sitter, and artist-photographer Brenda Agard. I had taken a series of black-and-white shots of her on my SLR camera, which I developed and printed in the Lenthall Road Workshop darkroom where I worked at the time. I often found doing the test strips (strips of photographic paper used to establish how long the exposure should be for the final print) one of the most exciting parts of the process, and this was the case with these. The test strips are fragments of the whole—only a section of the exposed image is used, and the photographic paper is torn into strips before being exposed. The final work is a mix of drawings that she sat for, and drawings based on the test strips. I wanted to explore how fragmented images of the same subject, when juxtaposed, create a new story.