Cowboys and Indians
Ethics has superseded aesthetics as the fundamental determinant of an artwork’s value. To my chagrin, this peculiar transformation was on display at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts when I recently visited. In the Houston MFA’s American art section, the indigenous art was confined to its own room while the rest of American art was displayed chronologically. Furthermore, the curators had little more to say about the indigenous art than “Native Americans have been victimized throughout American history.” To be sure, this statement is true. Even today, the socioeconomic situation on Native American reservations is a tragic reminder of centuries of discrimination and displacement. But, this statement is also reductive in that it fails to account for the self-determination of indigenous peoples and their own artistic legacies.
While the curators surely intended to highlight the indigenous American experience through their placement of all Native American art in the same gallery room, what instead occurred was a relegation of indigenous art. What better way to celebrate Frederic Remington’s depictions of Native American life than to juxtapose them alongside Thomas Cole’s edenic landscapes in order to ascertain the dark truths of slavery and displacement behind America’s growth over the 19th century. By segregating American and indigenous artwork, the Houston MFA offers an ahistorical presentation of American history where white people are the perpetual victors and Native Americans the perpetual victims. Sitting Bull’s triumph over Custer at Little Big Horn? The military prowess of the Comanches and the Apaches? Both are not considered by the Houston MFA.
This social-justice strain of curation extends beyond the fine arts world and into the world of letters and literature where great works are often judged by their “woke” merits rather than aesthetic value. For example, Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin is a great work not only because it foregrounds a black gay man’s experience but also because it says something meaningful about romance, love, and loss that is universal and enduring. Moreover, Barry Jenkins’s “Moonlight” is a great work not only because it foregrounds black gay men but also because it says something universal and meaningful about masculinity and homosexuality. In each of these cases, the universality of the works’ transcends their particular circumstance and says something important about who we are.
Reinaldo Laddaga offers the best explanation of how aesthetics have superseded ethics in the academy and beyond in a piece for Compact Magazine. As an example, he argues that professors today are more likely to discuss Nathaniel Hawthorne’s view of the Puritans rather than Hawthorne’s singularity as a writer. I happen to concur with Laddaga and think that professors and students alike are more likely today to discuss how Baldwin and Jenkins succeed in depicting black homosexuality rather than why their artworks are so damn good. Moreover, I think this criticism can be extrapolated to the Houston MFA where we must ask: Why won’t you give the indigenous peoples their due?
