Vincent Smith: For My People

Vincent Smith

Vincent Smith FOR MY PEOPLE

NEW YORK

V

I S I T T H E Q U I E T and passionately inquiring mind of Vincent Smith and what is gently revealed is an

impressive and dynamic display of Black history, memory and creative workmanship in a very unique visual experience.

Undaunted by the difficulties one encounters in a racially repressive society in which many African Americans often struggle daily to live above the poverty line, Vincent Smith, like his lifelong friend, Jacob Lawrence, has chosen art as the vehicle through which he speaks to the world airing his concerns about our humanity as well as our inhumanity to each other. Smith’s art examines, chronicles and visually comments upon an important segment of American history thereby singling him out as one of the few remaining American artists whose work is truly social commentary in nature.

But Smith’s art is not bound by the usual rules or even formula of what one expects from an artist who devotes a considerable amount of time to creating works of art that comment upon society. Smith’s art is as much about process and the creative use of the materials of painting as it is about content. The way the artist looks at the subject he wishes to paint is so often guided by the style in which he works.

However, with Smith, there is always stylistic consistency

commensurate with a personal process in painting that seemingly belongs entirely to him. Even when he created the compositions in the 1960s that combined urban discord with portraits of Black mothers, leaders, poets, musicians and politicians, Smith’s personal process of layering the canvas with sand-thickened paint and stucco-like surfaces drew us into the picture visually as much as the subjects.

The figural dimension of Smith’s art is bold without being overpowering. It is expressionistic without the impuissance of action painting. Most importantly, Smith’s work is a passionate inquiry into the nature of things and we see it from the hand of a visually affluent artist.

David C. Driskell, 2003

I was 22 and working in the Post Office when I met a painter named Tom Boutis. He invited me to go to the Museum and I came away with the feeling that I had been in touch with something sacred. For a year afterward I haunted the libraries reading everything I could get my hands on about art, literature, philosophy, religion, existentialism—you name it— I touched on it somewhere. That same year I resigned from the Post Office and decided to be a professional artist.

—Vincent Smith, 1980

I remember that Bird (Charlie Parker) once said to me, ‘Vince, stick to your vision; don’t let nobody turn you around,’ what sustained me was the fact that I was doing something significant, that I was hopefully making a contribution to the African American community and the world.

—Vincent Smith, 1989

Apple Pies for the Kids, 1971 oil and sand on canvas, 48 x 38½ inches

In For My People 1965—the orator (street corner) on the platform is standing in front of a pawn shop and next to a bar—the twin symbols of spiritual poverty in the Black community. The white man in the pawn shop is peeping out and pulling down the shade at the same time—getting out before the “people get the message.” In Ralph Ellison’s book Invisible Man Ras the exhorter is a nowhere man-thief and revolutionary. 10 years later Malcolm X is an ex nowhere manthief and revolutionary. In For My People I painted him with red hair. Malcolm is Ras—Ras Makon in Ethiopia was the king who defeated the Italians in 1885. There is a statue of Ras on a horse on a pedestal in Addis Ababa. Can you think of a Black man in this country in similar circumstances (on a horse—a statue). It was sculpted by Afewerk Tekle the national painter of Ethiopia—Ralph Ellison not only knew his history but his vision is something else.

—Vincent Smith, 1982

For My People, 1965 oil on Masonite, 49 x 46 inches

Since 1967 I have been working with sand to create certain kinds of texture in the urban paintings—walls etc—especially in the early 70s I developed it where I would throw sand on, paint it in with the oil—glue it—fling it—lay the canvas on the floor and sprinkle it on—use the palette knife to mix it on—trying to get the right mix or feeling of character to the image.

—Vincent

Super, 1969 oil, sand and collage on canvas, 46 x 40 inches

Smith, 1982

The Soul Brothers, c. 1969 oil on canvas, 31¼ x 24 ¾ inches

Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.

—Martin Luther King, 1963

Martin Luther King, 1967 oil and collage on canvas, 25 x 31 inches

Black Power Conference, 1968 oil and sand on canvas, 16 x 30 inches

Fire and Brimstone, 1968 oil on canvas, 28 x 20 inches

I look forward to viewing the work of Vincent Smith which is always vital in content and exciting in form. The facades of the buildings and the faces of their inhabitants—as expressed through the elements of textures, color and shape—allow one to appreciate the creative process of Vincent Smith as well as the energetic like forces of the big city—its people and their way of life. The works are accomplished with sensitivity, probing inclusively for the character and essence of the scene of which the artist is so much a part. It is as though he were still working out of that dark basement room beneath a brownstone in Brooklyn—his studio for many years.

It has been my pleasure to see the growth and development of this very talented artist and true expressionist. He continues to develop his craft without the sacrifice of freshness and vitality. His canvases glow with translucent color—his technique is strong—his approach spontaneous yet controlled—his content reportorial yet abstract in means.

Among the portraits, imagined or real, which I find especially intriguing are: The Super—a strong work, using the design elements of the square and the rectangle . . . Ritual Man—the content and form becomes one—the ideal . . . Girl with Flower—well proportioned in both shape and form, it reminds one of an African wood carving . . . I shall continue to look forward to seeing exhibitions by Vincent Smith, whose handling of his chosen content is deeply emotional; whose form is very personal.

—Jacob Lawrence, 1973 The Super, 1970 oil on canvas, 32 x 37 inches

Ritual Man, ca. 1972 oil and sand on canvas, 40 x 48 inches

Girl with Flower, 1972 oil, sand and collage on canvas, 36 x 48 inches

Home from Vietnam, ca. 1972 oil and sand on canvas, 49 x 41 inches

The T-Bone Walkers, the Billie Holidays, the Charlie Parkers, the John Coltranes and countless others, were and are the oracles of Black culture that inform and fuel the creative vision of Vincent Smith. Music, especially jazz, is the conduit through which the artist expresses his life; it is the key that unlocks the entrance to his past. “Music brings back all kinds of memories. It surges me on.” Smith constantly listens to jazz when creating a work of art; it is an inextricable part of his being and impels him to create.

—Sharon F. Patton, 1989

The Sights and Sounds of Night, 1972 oil and collage on canvas, 42 x 50 inches

Soul on Top of a Peach Tree, 1972 oil on Masonite, 45 x 40 inches

Easter Sunday, 1965 oil on Masonite, 20¾ x 24 inches

Vincent Smith was a survivor. He was, perhaps, one of the most legitimately bohemian artists of these years. He had no money and was not just some middle-class juvenile playing at being an artist. He came from a Brooklyn ghetto and had to struggle against society and even against what it tried to make him into, in order to paint. At the time, he lived in a loft that had neither heat nor light. It was the bohemianism of necessity. When Smith did begin to paint consistently, he developed a style that was completely connected to the history and tradition of Afro-American painting.

—Sharon F. Patton, 1989

Street Scene (From Saturday Night in Harlem Series), 1954 oil on canvas, 24 x 30 inches

Pool Room (from Saturday Night in Harlem series), 1954 oil on canvas, 18 x 24 inches

We were a strange group because people didn’t know what to make of us. They were used to Black musicians and performers, but the visual arts were sacred territory. Most people I came in contact with never knew a Black painter nor had they hardly ever heard of one. At that time Jacob Lawrence and Charlie White were the only known Black artists. Beauford Delaney was known, but only in the village. But we hung out and hung in—in lofts, ballrooms, and in cold water flats. We used to sit in the Riviera Café, Pandora’s Box and Rienzi’s and have marathon sessions rapping about art, politics, literature, religion, esthetics, and women, We’d also drop in at the Whitney Museum and at the Hans Hoffman School, both of which used to be on West 8th Street. The abstract painters hung out in The Cedar Bar, but we preferred the Five Spot Café as that’s where they played jazz every night.

—Vincent Smith on his life in the 1950s

Saturday Night in Harlem, 1955 Oil on canvas, 36 x 45 inches

Vincent Smith (1929–2003) Born and raised in Brooklyn, Vincent Smith showed an affinity for art and music from an early age. At seventeen he left New York to work on the Lackawanna Railroad in the south, and then enlisted in the army, where he was also stationed in the south until his honorable discharge in 1949.

That year he returned to New York. Smith was working for the postal service at the age of twenty-two in 1952, when his visit to the Cezanne exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art inspired him to resign and become a professional artist.

In the following years Smith would study at the Art Students League (1953), the Skowhegan School of Art and Painting (1955), and the Brooklyn Museum Art School (1953/56). Throughout the 1950s he became deeply involved in the bohemian jazz and art world, painting scenes of the neighborhoods, jazz clubs, and pool halls in which he lived and reveled. During this time he associated with artists including his lifelong friend Jacob Lawrence, who he first met on a crowded train from Manhattan to Brooklyn in 1955, as well as Gregorio Prestopino, Walter Williams, and sculptor Jimmy Gittens. His musician friends and acquaintances included Duke Jordan, Harvey Cropper, Charlie “Yardbird” Parker, Max Roach, Clifford Jackson, Art Blakey, and Thelonious Monk.

In the 1960s Smith became involved with the Civil Rights Movement, and the content of his work shifted towards social commentary, reflecting the suffering and strength he witnessed in the fight for equality. In 1967, he began experimenting with elements of collage and other mixedmedia in his painting, mixing sand into his paint to invoke specific textures. From his early career Smith was interested in the study of African history and culture. He drew inspiration from the African mask collection at the Brooklyn Museum, which is reflected in the mask-like faces of his figures. In the 1970s he was able to travel extensively in West Africa and hold several exhibitions of his work there.

Smith held a number of teaching positions throughout his life, including at the Whitney Museum Art Resource Center (1967-1976) and the Center for Art and Culture of Bedford Stuyvesant (1985). As an artist, teacher, and informed student of art history, Smith’s work reflects an awareness of the white-washed art-historical narrative; this he attempted to change, by expressing the dynamic reality of life in Black communities in New York. He continued this work throughout his life, facilitating dialogue between Black artists of many disciplines through his radio show on WBAI-FM in the late ‘80s, “Vincent Smith Dialogues with Contemporary Artists,” in addition to curating exhibitions

and promoting the work of fellow artists. Smith died in 2003 at the age of 75.

Smith received numerous prestigious awards throughout his career, including a John Hay Whitney Fellowship (1959), a Child Hassam Purchase Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters (1973-4) and the Thomas P. Clarke Prize from the American Academy of Design (1974).

Exhibitions included the Art Institute of Chicago (1996); Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston (1992); Henry Street Settlement, New York (1990); Museum of Modern Art, New York (1988); Howard University, Washington, DC (1985); Larcada Gallery, New York (1977); Brooklyn Museum (1977); Portland Museum of Art, Portland, ME (1974); Studio Museum in Harlem (1974, 1969); Whitney Museum of American Art (1971), and the Brooklyn Museum Art School Gallery (1955). His work resides in numerous public collections including the Art Institute of Chicago; Brooklyn Museum; Metropolitan Museum of Art; Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; Museum of Modern Art, New York; Rhode Island School of Design Museum; Smithsonian American Art Museum; Studio Museum of Harlem; Whitney Museum of American Art; Yale University Art Gallery, as well as many private collections.

This catalogue is published on the occasion of the exhibition “Vincent Smith: For My People” on view from January 8 through February 26, 2022 at 291 Grand Street, New York 10002.

Cover detail: Girl with Flower, 1972 Text by David C. Driskell was first published in the catalouge accompanying the gallery’s 2003 exhibition of Smith’s work.

Catalogue © Alexandre Fine Art Inc. Images © The Estate of Vincent Smith Photography: Maria Stabio Photographic Production: Maria Stabio Essay © David C. Driskell Editorial Production: Emma Crumbley Design: Lawrence Sunden, Inc., Harrington Park, New Jersey No portion of this catalogue, images or text may be reproduced, either in printed or electronic form, without the expressed written permission of the gallery.