Black Art: In the Absence of Light | Review

Black Art: In the Absence of Light is an eye opening, albeit lightweight look at how one revolutionary gallery exhibition was able to change the history of visual arts. Sam Pollard’s documentary explores various visual arts from a thoughtful, candid, and careful perspective, but Black Art: In the Absence of Light doesn’t have enough time and space to fully represent a broader range of history and influence. Skewing more contemporary than one might expect, Black Art: In the Absence of Light is an example of a good movie that could’ve been a great one, or possibly an idea better suited to a series.

Black Art: In the Absence of Light is built around Two Centuries of Black American Art, a travelling exhibition curated and created by artist and historial David Driskell (who sadly passed away from COVID-19 last spring, but appears here in a major capacity). It first debuted as part of the American 1976 bicentennial celebration in Los Angeles, where it was an immediate success. At the time, it was one of a minuscule number of exhibitions that showcased works by black artists; certainly the most notable outside of the ill received Harlem on My Mind exhibit at The Met in NYC from 1968, which showed how different an exhibition of POC art could come across when curated by white people at the time. Driskell’s exhibition would travel from Los Angeles to Atlanta, Dallas, and Brooklyn, continuing to make a major impact. Without Driskell’s exhibition, many of the artists selected for it would never be seen by as large of a public audience.

Pollard (Atlanta’s Missing and Murdered: The Lost Children) spends a lot of Black Art: In the Absence of Light getting to know Driskell, who remained a passionate artist and advocate for black culture until the end. Driskell is such a charismatic, warm, and intelligent person that Pollard could’ve built an entire documentary solely around his contributions to the visual arts, both as a creator of collages and as an educator and curator. But just as Driskell intended to place a spotlight on black artists from a number of varied disciplines, Pollard’s film attempts to do the same.

Artists who were showcased in Driskell’s landmark exhibition – like Kerry James Marshall and activist Faith Ringgold – talk to Pollard about how revolutionary such a show was for the time, and how much it meant to them to participate in it. Black Art: In the Absence of Light revolves around an exhibition that has tremendous staying power today, with the book that spawned from it continuing to inspire contemporary artists who were either too young to attend or who hadn’t been born yet. The exhibition offered the unequivocal ownership and interpretation of black stories and art for the artists contained within it, something that can still be seen in the rise of black collectors and curators (like Kasseem Dean, a.k.a. record producer Swiss Beatz, who gives an exceptional interview here) who try to make sure that black culture remains visible for black audiences. Despite the fact that black representation in galleries and museums currently stands at just over 1% of what’s on display (with overall POC representation hovering around 15%), the likes of Driskell and Dean keep proving that there is an audience starved to seem themselves portrayed in the visual arts.

This is where Black Art: In the Absence of Light excels greatest; in showing that the demand and fight to be represented remains at an all time high. Where it falters, however, is in an overall lack of focus and a more contemporary slant. While Pollard does a great job of showcasing contemporary and modern artists from the late 1960s until the modern era, Black Art: In the Absence of Light largely ignores the first hundred years of the two centuries Driskell exhibited. It might be a choice to focus on such a time period because interview subjects are still available to speak to their experiences, but there’s a distinct sense that the artists who might have been the most obscure when the exhibition was created are destined to remain that way. The only subject in Pollard’s film that bridges that generational gap the best arrives in the final stages of Black Art: In the Absence of Light, when multidisciplinary artist Theaster Gates effortlessly ties things together all on his own.

Black Art: In the Absence of Light looks and moves in ways similar to a PBS documentary; something that’s ambitious in scope, but not necessarily style. Pollard’s interviews are outstanding, and the subjects are well selected, but the documentary as a whole has a scattered feeling to it; one that skews a lot more modern than viewers could be expecting from a look at an exhibition that covered two centuries. There’s also not a lot about the exhibition itself in comparison to the individual artist profiles, which is a small complaint when one remembers that it’s the artists that matter most in the first place. It’s a film that picks and chooses where it wants to take its discourse, and while the content is fine, the assembly feels hurried, right up to its strangely abrupt ending.

Black Art: In the Absence of Light might be dismissed by some as a dry exercise, but the stories contained within it are vital and worth preserving. It’s also a single volume documentary that would be better suited to a longform series. There’s so much more to explore and discuss within Black Art: In the Absence of Light that it left me wanting a lot more than the film could provide. I always love when a film makes me want to learn more about its subjects, and it’s probably a good sign that I didn’t want Pollard’s documentary to end as soon as it does. But it’s also the sort of work that demands a follow-up.

Black Art: In the Absence of Light premieres on Crave and HBO in Canada and HBO Max in the U.S. on Tuesday, February 9, 2021 at 9:00 pm EST/PST.