Black Folk Art Summer 2022 Issue 01

Black Folk Art

BLACK ART AND CULTURE MAGAZINE www.blackfolkart.com

Issue 01 Summer 2022

BLACK FOLK ART DEFINED

By NeFesha Ruth

ARTIST HIGHLIGHT In Conversation with Jason Moss

THE MAKESHIFTERS

Robin Fisher In Conversation With Karyn Washington-Truitt

THE FRESNO FEATURE In Conversation With Shahara Montgomery

The Warrior, Jason Moss

If My People, NeFeha Ruth

Table of Contents Black Folk Art Defined..............................03 Artist Highlight...........................................07 The Makeshifters …………………..…….. 13 Healing in Color........................................17 The Fresno Feature..................................19 With Gratitude………………………………21

Mama Moses will Guide the Way, NeFesha Ruth

Black Folk Art Defined

NeFesha Ruth, Founder of Black Folk Art Magazine

“Black culture has sustained both a vibrant folk art and a sophisticated modernist output.”

Mary Schmidt Campbell

In African American culture, the term “Black folk,” is indicative of the collective Black community. This colloquialism was utilized by W.E.B. DuBois, in his 1903 book entitled, “The Souls of Black Folk.” In contemplating this seminal work, writer Ibram X. Kendi stated that at the time of DuBois writing, "Racist Americans were making the case that Black people did not have souls, and the beings that did not have souls were beasts." Kendi reminds us that DuBois wanted the world to know the humanity of Black folk. “Black Folk,” being a moniker for Black people and a phrase that has been deeply embedded in Black culture extending well beyond the DuBois 1903 manuscript to Tank and the Bangas 2022 song, Black Folk. The term brings Black people to the closest feeling of community. For Black people, the term often evokes memories of family reunions, Sunday dinners, elders within the community, perseverance, and the remembrance of those who came before us; as many African Americans often state that, “we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors.” There is a natural undercurrent of interdependence on one another, past, present, and future, that Black folk tend to have.

The term “folk art,” has a controversial definition in the art world. It has been a term that has lacked clarity and agreement on the definition. According to the Art and Architecture Thesaurus (AAT), the term folk art is used for the genre of art produced in culturally cohesive communities or context and guided by traditional rules or procedures for creation in accordance with mutually understood traditions, and in some cultures allowing greater or lesser latitude for personal expression.

According to AAT there is a distinction between folk art, outsider art, and self-taught artists. The term ‘self-taught,’ has the very apparent definition of someone with no formal training but according to the AAT, it also has the implicit definition of very personal vision or aesthetic, and whose work is usually unmediated by the standards, traditions, and practices of the culture of the art world, as embodied by the international art markets and established art institutions. Due to the term folk art being

we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors very “tradition oriented,” there is a conflict with the term being used synonymously with “selftaught,” which leaves one with the belief that the art is not influenced by any one culture or tradition making much folk artist, according to Bendetti, more culturally taught than self-taught.

For this reason, in my definition of Black Folk Art, I use the term, “culturally autodidactic artist.” This term merges the idea that an artist can be self-taught, influenced, and developed inside of their cultural conservatory, i.e. the Black community and culture. In reflecting these definitions, Bendetti continues, “communal learning experiences, whether as part of a family, an ethnic group, or an art school, each leave a distinctive cultural imprint. If one does not attend art school, one's work will express one's other (personal and cultural) experience. If one has been taught by, and identifies very strongly

with, a particular cultural community, one’s work will show evidence of that tradition.” I do not believe that the definition can be nor should be a linear and binary definition but, rather, there is a merging that has to be taken into account. The term selftaught when it comes to artists is often referring to artists that have not been taught at an institution yet, people are naturally going to be influenced by their surroundings and their culture.

art that reflected their culture For Black folk, folk art has a unique definition. In response to the, Black Folk Art in America, 1930-1980 exhibition at the Corcoran Museum of Art, Mary Schmidt Campbell stated that, “Black culture has sustained both a vibrant folk art and a sophisticated modernist output.” For Black people, folk art is intertwined with folklore, music such as the blues and negro spirituals, lyrics and poetry, style, and

Black Folk Art in America, 1930-1980 exhibition at the Corcoran Museum of Art

subject matter. Material culture plays a great role in Black folk art. The Black folk artist has created art that reflected their culture and spoke for their people.

Black Folk Art in the Black Community I grew up in a small suburban town 20 miles outside of Philadelphia, PA in South Jersey. Most people knew the city as Deptford but when you took a closer look at the make-up of this city, you saw a microclimate of Black culture and community nestled in a small and intimate neighborhood called Jericho. For many, the name Jericho may ring a bell of the biblical narrative

Black Folk Art Defined

Panel 40, The Great Migration Series by Atlantic City, New Jersey native Jacob Lawrence

When the Israelites first crossed the Jordan river and entered Canaan land, the first city they entered was the city of Jericho. In the Black culture, songs have been written and sung by artists like Mahalia Jackson singing, “I’m on my way to Canaan”. Canaan land was the idea of liberation and freedom; it was the promised land. As bell hooks explained, “everything Black people in America have seen or experienced has been filtered through that primal experience of exile, and that includes a longing to return to “the promised land.”(3) As a child, this little town of Jericho felt like the promised land to me. Surrounded by Black culture and community, I saw the ingenuity and creativity of Black folk as the pulse of our experience.

Jericho was just short of Delaware and just outside of Philadelphia. During slavery, it was a place where Black folk ran to find freedom. My ancestral journey

was one of many. Unique in its relations yet a story that many can relate to. I say unique because my father’s grandmother, my great grandmother, was the cousin of Harriet Tubman. My family surely found their way from the plantations of the eastern shores of Maryland to the free city of Philadelphia. My grandmother on my mother’s side reigned from the Gullah Geechee people of North Carolina. Like many Black folk in my New Jersey neighborhood, we came from the south and we brought the south with us, just as our ancestors brought Africa with them. In the South as in Africa, creativity had been a way that Black folk had connected with their spirituality, shared their thoughts and beliefs, relayed messages, passed down ancestral knowledge, and endured the hardest of times and the hellish of moments. Creativity has carried Black folk through the transatlantic slave trade, slavery in the south, reconstruction, civil rights, and the Black power movement.

I have become an inherited artist…

Creativity is the great combatant to nihilism within the Black plight and the Black struggle.

In that small Black neighborhood of Jericho, I inherited the art practiced in my community and family. My mother was a seamstress, fashion designer, quilter, interior designer, culinary artist, and a host of other creative titles. She did what she had to, when she had to do it, or had time to do it, always with a flare and with class. She taught me so much about not just being an artist but living a creative lifestyle. Having three children constantly in her presence as she created masterpieces, she made ordinary experiences, whimsically imaginative creative dreams.

This is an example of the many Black homes in which through these courageous teaching methods, Black folk preserved their culture.

The Black community became a conservatory of sorts. I have become an inherited artist, creating culturally relevant artistic expressions and this is what I call and begin to define as Black Folk art.

When colonizers entered the fertile land of Africa, they proclaimed the people to be nothing, and shortly after entering they realized the land was full of minerals and nutrients that now feed the entire globe.

They were right about the land and wrong about the people as the people come directly from the land. A people ripe with the same nutrients and minerals of the land and understood that they could take the mud of the land and develop architecture, grow food, manufacture clothing, and create dishes and pottery. The folk artist will forever be the one that reveals the spirit of the community and reminds humanity that there is beauty in the world around us.

The folk artist was the original community artist or creative cultural developer.

A great example would be

the artist, Bill Traylor. In his final years, he began to draw and paint. Sitting on Monroe Street, in the hub of the Black community of Montgomery, Alabama, with one leg and homeless, he created art pieces that told stories and expressed imagination and wonderings. He was so loved by the community that he was given space to sleep in the local funeral home; he sat and interacted with people, drew and painted what he both saw and remembered, and especially what he imagined. He spoke through his art, telling a story of resilience and Black culture, creativity, and community. This is a history that must be remembered and reflected as a lesson of what is truly valuable and important in this life, that it is never too late to do what you love, and that the folk artist of Black history have been our community artist, sharing the Black folk story, rich and ripe with the soul and spirit of an African diasporic people.

NeFesha Ruth is the founder of BlackFolkArt.com and zine. @nefesharuth

Jason Moss

Authenticity and Vulnerability Interview by NeFesha Ruth

On a recent trip to the East Coast, I sat with a friend. She is a fellow art lover and does restorative justice work in Philadelphia. As we sat over coffee and tea, she mentioned an artist she thought I would enjoy meeting. Upon her recommendation, that same day, I followed the artist James Moss on Instagram after locating his tag, @the_art_of_indigo. He was swift to get back to me and offered a phone conversation at my request to talk with him. Our first phone conversation was full of fruitful dialogue, and I asked him if he would be open to me coming to visit his studio before I flew back to California. We set up a visit for an interview, and two days later, I found myself driving to Reading, PA, to speak with artist, chef, and fashion designer, James Moss.

Stepping into his studio was like stepping into his mind. It was an

adventure, full of color and vibrant energy. Art lined every inch of his space, and I could see that he was not just someone who painted but was an intrinsic creative. His studio made me feel at home, with vibrant color and design. I felt his explicit efforts to get that creative energy out and onto a canvas, mannequin, table, tv, floor, wall, or piece of clothing.

As we did a walk-through of his studio, Jason revealed beautiful, challenging, and spiritually empowered works of art.

Born and raised in Pottstown, PA, Jason Moss reflects on a troubled society to liberate the soul. As a self-taught artist who picked up a paintbrush just a year ago and began to paint out of an inward nudge, Jason is passionate about his work. In the first room, I found a collection of pieces, and Jason immediately started off explain-

ing this piece as I sat on a chair that was fully painted and blended in with the collection that I learned is called “Triggered Anxiety,” Jason Moss: The point is that it represents societal triggers that cause us anxiety. I mean the shit that we’re going through every day. So, this piece, when it is in place, it will be in front of the fence, and the main figure is called “Staring into Oblivion.” It represents going into adulthood, going into new things, looking into the void of uncertainty. The door is called “Open at Your Own Risk,” and it represents going from those teenage years to young adulthood. The symbolization represents those things that we go through, like working until you die. But did you live?

Why Don’t I Look Like That?,” is a part of this collective “Triggered Anxiety,” piece.

This person is looking at themselves through the lens of media. It could be a person with body image issues or a person of color not seeing themselves represented in media. All of those things that cause us to question, “Why don’t I look like what I am seeing?” or “Why don’t I look like what I am reading?” That is what this represents.

NeFesha Ruth: With this piece, “Why Don’t I Look Like That?” it reminds me of how a lot of times people do feel detached when they look at their body and feel that they are distorted. They see what they have been told to think from society.

In Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome, Dr. Joy DeGruy says, “I am who I think you think I am.” What is your reflection on that in response to your work?

Who was it that said that they didn’t free the slave they just took the collar off the neck? That is so true.

We are a 1.3 trillion economy. We are the richest Africans in the world, and if you look at any major Black community, Harlem, for example, we are missing the four main things that put that power back in our control: 1.

Black-owned land 2. Black-owned school 3. Black-owned grocery market (not a corner store but an entire chain) 4. Black-owned hospitals. If we had those four things, we’d be untouchable. Last time we had that was Oklahoma and look at what they did to that.

So, where do you find the balance you need in your art, looking out at society and its aesthetic expectations and the work you feel deeply moved to create?

That’s the struggle. I mean, what’s the saying, “Neutrality only helps the oppressor?” But in this day in age it’s not even about not being neutral, it’s

I can’t be disingenuous. about the loudest voice, and oftentimes the loudest voice isn’t right; it’s just the loudest voice.

So, your art is loud in its own way, and do you find that it speaks for itself in spaces?

I am so new to this. I literally picked up a paint brush around October of last year. So, I am getting a crash course big time.

I struggle to figure out if my art has a place and not playing small to make others feel comfortable. My work is loud and bold and most of it is big, and so it is one of those things that I just have to say, fuck it.

Like Andy Warhol said, “Art is what you can get away with.”

And he also said, “Let other people decide if your work is good or bad, while you make more art.” I don’t compete. I don’t feel competitive with other artist because good and bad is relative. I know my niche. I call my art ugly art. I don’t make pretty art. And I know that. It is how it comes out, and I can’t be disingenuous.

My art has been very therapeutic for me. It’s been a way for me to express my unadulterated thoughts and emotions as a man of color. If I were to go onto social media and write down all my thoughts that went into a piece, some

people would listen. Some people would say to stop bitchin’, whatever, whatever…but you make it into art, and it captures a whole different audience and a whole different mindset. About two years ago, I wrote a book, and it really helped me down that road of vulnerability. Ever since then, I’ve been a big advocate of men being vulnerable. It’s not encouraged and embraced in our culture. My art has allowed me that vulnerability and allowed me to communicate with people in a way that I wouldn’t have been able to before.

I am supposed to be creative. I don’t have a choice.

Art and healing spaces are so important, and they do spark conversations that you would not typically have.

It has to stop with this generation. This whole generational thing in the Black community of what a man is and there are so many “emotional stuck points,” from proper relationships with women, perpetuating cycles, and heaven forbid you’re creative or artistic then you are gay, and if you are gay or bisexual then you’re a stereotype. We spend so much time putting boundaries

on ourselves.

How has your art helped you to step outside of those boundaries?

It is just what it is. I am fairly comfortable with my skin—it’s taken a while. I think we all have struggles, and one of the things that I am working on in therapy is, that I’ve engineered a life for myself that I am pretty much in control of everything in my environment. I am very selective of who I allow in my space, so my art was hard to put out there at first because it was something new, and so I had to give myself permission to suck at something new. After I got my legs under me with that it was like, “This is what I do. I’m an artist, and I put out my art.” For me, I don’t have a choice. I am supposed to be creative. I don’t have a choice.

Jason Moss’ work is currently on display at Downing Gross Cultural Center in Newport News, VA and Bad Reputation Gallery in Honesdale, PA until July 29, 2022. Jason is also the featured artist at Arete Gallery in New Hope, PA and is on view at Subculture Pop-up Gallery in Philadelphia, PA until August 28, 2022 @the_art_of_indigo

Join the Black Folk Art Collective at www.blackfolkart.com @blackfolk.art info@blackfolkart.com

The Makeshifters Karyn Washington-Truitt Interview by Robin Fisher

The Makeshifters column is an acknowledgement of the Black women in our communities through-out the African Diaspora that continue to “make-do” and make a way out of a host of circumstances.

As the writer Kimber Thomas quotes in her essay, Makeshifting: Black Women and Resilient Creativity in the Rural South, “Makeshifting requires patching and piecing, and also requires Black women to view objects as multifunctional; that is, objects meant for one domain will almost always overlap with or be utilized for another.” In honor of the women that have been creative with little and good stewards of a lot, we dedicate this column to the Culturally taught Makeshifters of our society. With this inaugural article, Robin Fisher interviewed New York native, Karyn Washington-Truitt.

Robin Fisher: I know you as a friend but who are you creatively, and how did your creativity start?

I’ve always been creative as a child. I loved dolls. I had a whole collection of barbie dolls, and I would line them up–I would teach them. I would make them clothes, and my mother always got angry with me because I would cut up all of my socks to make clothes out of them. Any piece of material, I would wrap it around them and drape it around them. I would stay in my room for hours just playing with dolls. And I never learned how to sew so I would just tie things together and cut holes for the arms, and things like that. I wasn’t a person that was able to draw. My father had wonderful penmanship; I had chicken scratch. My sister painted, and she went to school

for art. I never painted. So, she had all these paintings, but my creativity was always abstract. I was a dancer, and I didn’t do regular dance, I did interpretive dance. I would combine tap and ballet, and African dance altogether. I would say that I am, as they would call me, “Sir Mix-A-lot” because I mix up everything. I mix up everything cooking and try this and that; mix up all kinds of stuff. Even making drinks, I’d make this punch called “Get Right Punch,” and I’d take all these alcohols and punch and ginger ales, and everyone just loved it! You would sit and drink and not feel anything and then get up, and everyone would say, “Mama Kay made Get Right punch again!” So, that’s my thing.

When I do art it’s a lot of different stuff altogether. I like experimenting.

I always admired people that could mix up things creatively without too much direction, especially in cooking. Some people just have the knack of coming up with stuff over and over.

I never considered myself really good at it, I just did it. If it comes out and its good then I’m happy. I made this giraffe and I have always wanted a giraffe. I went out looking for one, but they were all so expensive. So I was in the thrift store one day, and I saw folding tables. You know the card trays, the wooden tv trays? So, I stood there, and I looked at it. I took it and I opened it up and started thinking, “If I could put these two together these could be their legs and if I take it apart, these can be the neck.” So, I brought the tables home from the thrift store, and they were only like a dollar fifty each, and the wood was so nice and thick.

So, I took the whole thing apart and put the whole body together. I let it sit overnight and then moved it the next day, and the whole thing fell apart! So, I realized I didn't have the right glue. Then I finally got it to hold tight, and I had a cardboard tube from Home Depot. I cut it and put it over the base and then I had the body. So I went through pictures of giraffe heads, found one that I liked and drew it, made a template, got the wood, and I was proud of this face. It took me about a month to make it, and it is my pride and joy. Everybody wants it!

grandmother was creative. She made hats. They were all creative and making stuff. She made hats and pocketbooks.

My dad drew. He was a draftsman. He went to school for draftsmanship, and he had the most phenomenal penmanship that you ever wanted to see. It was just beautiful. My grandmother on my fathers side, knitted and crocheted. On my mothers side and my fathers side, they were both creative and they did artsy things.

Were your parents creative?

Well, I’ll tell you this, before I started getting into power tools– and I never used a power tool like a miter saw, a jig saw, drills, circular saw–I never did all that, so my thing was taking ceramics–there was a ceramic factory right next to where my husband worked–and I would

My mom was creative. She always made me clothes for school, and I was always voted best dressed. I don’t know how because I did not like the clothes, but I wore them because she told me to and my

Tell us about your art. Can you describe your art to us?

get huge ceramic giraffes and all different kinds of animals and vases for very cheep. I’d bring them home and paint them. I love African animals, so my living room was nothing but African animals. It was just everywhere. So, that’s what I did. I painted stuff. I can’t define it because I just do whatever. I like going outside and taking tree branches and making trees.

Where do your ideas or inspiration come from?

I watch YouTube everyday. I see what people are doing. I love wall art that is made out of natural material. It made me rethink a lot of things because I used to do things quickly, and now watching people on YouTube, and I see the steps that they go through to make things–now I am trying different steps. I never knew the steps so I am learning, and I’ve gotten better.

As Black women, we have been able to make-do by taking what we have and making something out of it.

Have you done that in your creative life, taking the things that you have and making something out of them?

Definitely! Trash to Treasure.

Most definitely. I keep boxes and boxes and buckets of stuff.

Random stuff. Its easy and cheap. You know that’s the whole thing. Taking something that you don’t spend a whole lot of money for. I think a lot of people are creative because they did have to make-do.

Making-do is very important.

Like a kid not having any toys,

they’ll take a tree branch and rocks and leaves and they make a whole thing.

Do you have a word for the younger women about the importance of developing creativity in your life?

Don’t be afraid. Do not think that you are not capable of doing something. You’d be surprised of what you are capable of. And then just go and try it. It may not come out right the first time. Try it again.

It’s trial and error. Just don’t be afraid to try things and don’t

take your hard-earned money and give it away. Make it yourself and make it your own.

Your art is one of a kind. You pray before you work. Always, ask the Most High to bless your work and to lead you and guide you. I am always thankful for the creativity of my work. I get excited and amazed, and I appreciate it. I really do.

Karyn Washington-Truitt @revampedbykay

Join the Black Folk Art Collective at www.blackfolkart.com @blackfolk.art info@blackfolkart.com

HEALING IN COLOR

Kambrya Bailey / Kám AB Studios Phone (909) 239-5653

Email: ka.bailey1999@gmail.com

‘HEALING IN COLOR’ is an adult coloring book is a tool for self expression and relaxation complete with loving affirmations and a collection of abstract and surreal illustrations that are just crying out for your colored pencils, pens and pastels! I am so excited to share this project with you and I can’t wait for you to fill in colors and read words curated for your creativity, healing and exploration; please contact me directly via txt or email for purchasing.

The Fresno Feature Shahara Montgomery Interview by NeFesha Ruth

We met in the African American Historical and Cultural Museum of San Joaquin Valley, where artist Shahara Montgomery's work has been on exhibit.

Shahara comfortably sat on the floor in front of her artwork, creating an enclave with the familiar feel of a young child creating in their room. I followed suit and sat next to Shahara, who goes by @harajanae_art on Instagram. There was one piece that I asked her to speak to me about called Righteous, but before we got into that discussion, we chatted about Shahara's upbringing as a Fresno native and what brought the 27year-old self-taught artist to where she is now.

NeFesha Ruth: What was your first memorable experience with creativity?

I was always a very shy and introverted child, so my Grandmom would always have a pen and paper because she would always find me in the corner doodling. They realized that it was something I could always do. I would draw.

Do you have any of those old doodles?

I do! I have to find them, but I definitely have some.

Self-taught. I feel like painting is not an easy thing to teach yourself. What was that journey like?

Around 2016, I began painting, and I realized that I liked it more than drawing. Although I would look up stuff here and there, you know, "what colors are best,” or “what

kinds of paints are best for me," for the most part, it was just trial and error. I did my best to express what I was trying to express. I didn't like painting at first, but then it became one of those things that I almost became more passionate about than the drawings I would do for all those years.

What is your goal artistically??

I know God gifted me to do art, and I know that He wants me to use this gift and bless others with it, so for me it is whatever He would have me to do. I don't have a set goal; it's just doing it as long as I know that I'm supposed to, and whatever impact that has on others, that's just a blessing in my opinion.

It's just something that I truly enjoy.

What inspires your paintings?

It wasn't until recently, now that I have the space and time and opportunity, where I'm actually trying to see what it is in me that I want to convey onto the canvas.

What makes Shahara's art different? And that is something I'm still praying on. As far as a lot of the paintings that I have done, a lot of it was me challenging myself, challenging my gift, trying to learn something and do something I hadn't done before, or it was commission and fulfilling request that others had because I was able to do it. I knew I had the ability, and I wanted to use that ability, but it wasn't until recently that I have really been trying to find what art means to me.

On "Righteous" I knew I wanted to paint something else, but I didn't know what exactly. I knew I wanted it to be organic, and so I began to flow.

I started with the color of the skin tone, and I began reflecting on my own relationship with God, and it just started to speak to me. I felt like God was showing me something and speaking to me. I began thinking about the verse, "His strength is made perfect in our weakness." The painting, to me, means that regardless of how different we may see ourselves, it doesn't change how we are seen in his eyes. We are righteous whether we are in our weak state, whether we feel strong, there's no difference. It's a reminder. We see the difference; We see the skin tones; We see the black and white; We see the dullness. We see areas in our lives where we feel weak or stagnant, but either way, we are still righteous. It doesn't change, and the colors in

Righteous, Shahara Montgomery, 2022

the back are me expressing God's glory and His strength that remains. I didn't think of the name at first, but I named it righteous because we are righteous regardless of how we feel. We're righteous regardless of what state we may feel we are in, and that is what I feel God wanted me to convey with this painting.

Ultimately, I know that this is a gift that God gave me, I am passionate and grateful for that.

That's what keeps me

painting. A lot of what I choose to paint is what I've grown up around.

I've grown up around my Black family. My Black cousins. My grandfather. My mother. And how God wants me translate those things onto the canvas.

That's what keeps me inspired.

This is something I feel I am purposed to do.

Shahara Montgomery @harajanae_art_

Faith Ringgold

With Gratitude

By NeFesha Ruth I was a child when my mother read to my siblings and me Faith Ringgold's book, Tar Beach. I remember the colors and the imagery. I am forever thankful to my mother for introducing me to such a monumental artist at a young age. That experience, paired with growing up playing in my mother's sewing room, fabrics and colors accompanied my imagination and led me to this moment.

In this inaugural issue, I honor a living legend that has paved the road for the many artists that walk down her trailblazed path with an intention to extend the path, go further, and continue the struggle. As I began to conceptualize BlackFolkArt.com and this zine, I thought about the persistence that it took for Faith Ringgold to create and make space in a world that continuously rejected those whom she represented; creative, bold, Black, courageous women that believed in themselves, their culture, and their community.

I took all that energy and decided to create a magazine that would tell the stories of the Black artist that are, with a critical consciousness, shaping our culture. It is with gratitude that I dedicate this inaugural issue to Faith Ringgold.

Daily, I glean from and find strength in her words, "You have to persist, and eventually somebody is going to be interested in what it is you are doing.

Persistence is exceedingly important.

Anyone can fly; all you gotta do is try."

Faith Ringgold: Tar Beach #2, 1990 Courtesy www.FaithRinggold.com Opposite Faith Ringgold: Early Works #25: Self-Portrait, 1965 Courtesy www.FaithRinggold.com

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