To See and Be Seen

Alicia Henry’s work is like a master class in people watching. Her portraits, a series of evocative faces and fragmented bodies made from paper, leather, felt and other textiles, tell nuanced stories through the tender precision of their making. 

Henry combines techniques from painting, collage and needlework; her hand is present and palpable. Every stitch or stroke is imbued with life, character and meaning. 

To excel in the art of people watching, one must be a keen observer with a generous imagination, able to project stories into the subtle lines of a face, or the way people carry their bodies. Clearly, Henry pays attention, not only to physical appearances, but also to the way people move and interact, and how they behave, alone or in groups. 

In Witnessing, on view at the Southern Alberta Art Gallery in Lethbridge until Nov. 17, three looming figures stand close together, evoking a familial tie. I imagine them as grandmother, mother and child, each generation rendered in a different style. 

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Alicia Henry, "Untitled (Triptych)" and "Untitled (Diptych)," 2019

acrylic, felt, canvas, leather, dye, thread, charcoal, pastel, graphite coloured pencil, yarn, cotton, rayon, linen and wool on canvas, installation view, (courtesy of The Power Plant, Toronto; photo by Toni Hafkenscheid)

The largest – the one I think of as the grandmother – stands almost 12 feet tall. Her hair is shaped like a bell, smooth around the face and flaring outward at the neck. She wears a jaunty pillbox hat, the kind made famous by Jackie Kennedy. Her face is made from brown fabric, with circular cut-outs for the eyes and nostrils. White stitching renders an exaggerated, cartoonish smile and delicate bags under those large piercing eyes. 

Though the countenance is simplified, it is by no means simple. Henry’s use of line and shape is spare, evoking the notion of a mask, or perhaps the constraints of a performed role. I think of my grandmother, and so many other women of her generation, who stoically kept up appearances, modelling dignity and decorum. But my grandmother is white, and this one is black, her dignity all the more hard-won and humbling to behold. 

The woman to her left wears a tie-dye frock. Her hair is close-cropped and bleached blonde; her face exudes a mixture of ambivalence and defiance. I sense she doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks of her. 

The child is the most enigmatic. Her face is a perfectly contoured oval, thickly outlined with a subtle shadow under the chin. Her visage is blank and her neck tapers into an absent chest. I wonder who she will become, her identity a work in progress.

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Alicia Henry, "Untitled (Two Faces)," 2019

acrylic, felt, canvas, leather, dye, thread, charcoal, pastel, graphite, coloured pencil, yarn, cotton, rayon, linen and wool on canvas, detail of installation (photo by Jaime Vedres)

With many works hovering in the space between a face and a mask, Henry leaves room for interpretation and curiosity throughout the exhibition, presented earlier this year at Toronto’s Power Plant, her first solo show in Canada. 

Born in Illinois, Henry has taught at Nashville’s Fisk University, a historically black university, for the last two decades and has exhibited widely, including the Whitney Museum of Contemporary Art in New York and the Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney, Australia. 

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Alicia Henry, "Analogous II," 2019

acrylic, thread, yarn, dyed leather, detail of installation at Southern Alberta Art Gallery, Lethbridge (photo by Jaime Vedres)

In many cultures, masks are made, worn and performed with ritual in order to invoke or embody the spirit of another. Here, in a small room to one side of the gallery, a large cluster of mask-like faces wail, open mouthed.

Made from leather dyed in analogous hues of red, brown and black, they invoke urgency and silence. As I move through the space, I’m aware of my own gaze and conscious of my privilege as a white observer. 

Each portrait in Witnessing is frontal and direct. They meet my gaze, turning it back on itself. Although one can only walk so far in the shoes of another, Henry’s work asks us to try. I give myself over to the temptation of imagining the stories, relationships and lives of the people behind these portraits. They are here to see and be seen. ■

Alicia Henry: Witnessing is on view at the Southern Alberta Art Gallery in Lethbridge from Sept. 28 to Nov. 17, 2019.

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