Blackness is…the Refusal to be Reduced – at Tacoma Art Museum

At a time when Blackness is being removed from from federal systems, school curriculums, and public archives, museums hold space for artists and curators to challenge that erasure with presence, memory, and vision. Running through March 14, 2027 at the Tacoma Art Museum is curator and artist Nikesha Breeze’s exhibit “Blackness is…the Refusal to be Reduced.”

Breeze has brought together the work of half a dozen contemporary artists, spanning film, sculpture, drawing, painting, and installation. These are artists who engage deeply with the complexity of trauma and memory, who center the marginal, and, most importantly, who create encounters that compel audiences to confront what has been hidden: threads and bones, stories and silences. Breeze writes that the exhibition explores the “complex texture of resistance that is embedded in Black history.”

One of the works, by Nate Young, takes the form of a drawing centered on bones – used here not simply as anatomical elements, but as repositories of memory and embodied experience. The piece reflects on how trauma and narrative are stored within the body, particularly within the bones of both the living and the ancestral. In the composition, the bones appear suspended, hovering above their own shadows—an articulation of how memory and trauma often persist in ghostly, fragmented ways: intangible, difficult to grasp, yet ever-present.

Nate Young – Casting 5 (2017)

One of the concepts that Breeze puts forth is the need to re-center the margin. To bring the experiences of those that have been pushed aside instead to the forefront. One of her pieces is an installation featuring a couple stacks of indigo dyed denim jeans. They are situated like an altar, resting upon what resemble stones and cotton, with a pair of disembodied Black feet on top of one and Black arms reaching out on top of the other. Black bodies were left out of the history of American denim, despite the fact that this icon of Americana was built upon the toil of stolen African bodies.

Nikesha Breeze – “Red, White, Black, and Blue – an homage to African American Indigo” 2021.

One of Breeze’s oil paintings is particularly arresting. It presents a life-sized portrait of an older man, perhaps a grandfather, dressed in dignified attire, seated beside his young grandson. The man’s face, marked by pain and loss, carries a quiet stoicism, a pride that doesn’t demand attention but nevertheless holds it. He does not meet your gaze directly, yet his presence is commanding. Beside him stands his grandson, who does look out – his gaze weary but unwavering, a look that suggests innocence already challenged, if not lost.

Together, their presence is undeniable. They confront the viewer, not with aggression, but with insistence, asking to be seen, remembered, and honored. They embody a personhood rooted in the past yet very much present, carrying stories that cannot be dismissed. You cannot easily turn away from these life-sized portraits, which I would argue are the centerpiece of Breeze’s exhibition.

Nikesha Breeze – “Anonymous African American man and child” – (2020)

Another oil painting by Breeze, positioned nearby, depicts two young sisters. They, too, meet your gaze. Their expressions are steady, perhaps even searching. Their eyes function almost as a mirror, or a portal, prompting self-reflection. What you see in their faces may reveal more about yourself than about them. It’s as if they are asking a question meant for you alone.

These are American faces, theirs is an American tale. When people express shock at contemporary injustices, claiming “Oh, that’s not the America I know,” they ignore a fundamental truth: this has always been America’s story. It is crucial that our art and museums offer us the lens to see what cannot be denied—and what cannot be reduced.

Come see these artists and others, like Lisa Jarrett and Willie Bonner, whose paintings and installation works prompt reflection and provoke thought. “Blackness is…the Refusal to be Reduced” will be on exhibition through March 14th, 2027 at the Tacoma Art Museum.

4 thoughts on “Blackness is…the Refusal to be Reduced – at Tacoma Art Museum

  1. Thank you for sharing — it’s a thought-provoking post. I’m especially interested in your point about “bringing the experiences of those who have been pushed aside to the forefront.” I understand that one of the important roles of a museum is to preserve and represent the diversity and complexity of the past. But I wonder — could it sometimes be more impactful to focus on shaping the present and future, rather than continually revisiting historical injustices?

    For example, in Russia, systems of servitude in the past — like serfdom — often involved people of the same ethnic background. While this history is acknowledged, there isn’t the same public effort to centre those narratives today. I’m curious why the conversation around historical memory and identity feels so different in the US — is it a cultural difference, or does it reflect something deeper about how the past continues to shape the present?

  2. Thank you for your comments. The US does not have a culture of one ethnic background. Those in power are presently erasing from official discourse and power those who exist outside the dominant ethnicity. Please read the writings of Walter Benjamin “Theses on the Philosophy of History” for insights.

    1. Thank you for your response — and for the reading recommendation.

      I realise I may not have expressed myself clearly earlier. Historically, “otherness” — whether rooted in ideology, appearance, or ethnicity — has often been used to justify unequal treatment, sadly more often with hostility than understanding. What I find particularly interesting is that, in many Slavic contexts during the era of serfdom, systems of oppression existed within the same ethnic group. In such cases, there was no visible “otherness” to explain or legitimise the hierarchy — the dynamic was entirely internalised within the same group.

      Of course, that doesn’t negate the trauma experienced. But it does seem that societies have taken different approaches to processing such histories. Some tend to “move on,” focusing on the present, while others “linger and reiterate,” keeping those narratives central in public discourse. Neither approach is necessarily better or worse — but the contrast is thought-provoking, at least to me.

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