Zig Jackson

At Upfor, the Soul of Black Art

The gallery's third-anniversary show, curated by collector John Goodwin, digs to the roots of black art in America and contemporary cultural divides

The Soul of Black Art: A Collector’s View, up through October 15 at Upfor Gallery, is a smart, sophisticated show, both socially and aesthetically, and you really don’t want to miss it. For its third anniversary show, Upfor gave over curating duties to the collector John Goodwin, who’s put together a stimulating small exhibit that reverberates with history while also feeling contemporary.

Drawing from his and Michael-Jay Robinson’s own collection and other sources, Goodwin concocts a vibrant mix of paintings, prints, photographs, video, and mixed-media works that probe the black American experience from inside and out, in highly personal and broadly cultural terms. Works by the likes of Romare Bearden, Marion Post-Wolcott, Devan Shimoyama, Andy Warhol, Arvie Smith, Marian Carresquero, and Zig Jackson dance in and around the essence of blackness in America, providing a multiplicity of views that defy political platitudes and easy headlines.

Arvie Smith's "Manumissions," left, and Devan Shimoyama's "Adjusting to the uminous Black." Collection of John Goodwin and Michael-Jay Robinson. Upfor Gallery.

Arvie Smith’s “Manumissions,” left, and Devan Shimoyama’s “Adjusting to the Luminous Black.” Collection of John Goodwin and Michael-Jay Robinson. Upfor Gallery.

Upfor’s exhibit – which coincides with the eagerly awaited opening of the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of African American History & Culture in Washington, D.C. – quietly but provocatively sets up the show with a scattering of casually racist pop-cultural objects that were once pretty much everywhere, providing cookie-jar comfort to everyday white lives, and still can be found: jockey lawn statuettes; cheerful fat-lipped ceramic figurines. They help set the stage for one of Warhol’s two pieces in the show, his 1981 screen print Mammy, which fascinatingly plays with and defies the stereotype, lending a kind of quizzical dignity to a comfortably submissive icon of the white imagination. And Arvie Smith’s two big 2006 paintings, collectively titled Manumissions (they could easily fit into his current APEX exhibition, through November 13 at the Portland Art Museum), play on his smart, satiric, almost gleefully horrific view of history: a carnival atmosphere at the scene of a lynching. Check the news, and, if you can stomach them, the spatter of crude anonymous comments below online stories about Black Lives Matter rallies and the latest police shootings of unarmed black men. We really aren’t far removed.


Beyond Edward Curtis: Native lens

The Portland Art Museum's exhibition of Curtis and three contemporary Native American photographers cuts through the myth and carries the story forward

It’s been a week since I saw Contemporary Native Photographers and the Edward Curtis Legacy at the Portland Art Museum, and when I revisit it in my mind I keep going back to the corner that might be called Zig’s Indian Reservation. That’s what Zig Jackson, the Mandan/Hidatsa/Arikara photographer, calls it in his sly, faux-documentary excursions into places he “shouldn’t be”.

Here we see Zig, in full headdress and also in sunglasses and sneakers, sitting on a San Francisco public bus with other commuters, all of whom seem to be staring pointedly in some other direction. Here he is, in his series Indian Photographing Tourist Photographing Indian, at the Taos Pueblo, shooting a photo of an Anglo photographer shooting a photo of a native in full regalia: the visitor has his camera pushed up close to the pueblo man’s face, as if he’s grabbing a snapshot of an exotic bird at the zoo. Here’s Zig again, at San Francisco City Hall, and in a buffalo enclosure in Golden Gate Park. And here he is, standing in his headdress on an urban grassland with a high-rise cityscape behind him and two official-looking signs to his side. ENTERING ZIG’S INDIAN RESERVATION, the big sign says, above a smaller one that lays out the fine print:


Open Range Cattle on Highway





Without Permission from Tribal Council

Zig’s Indian Reservation, it should be noted, is a movable thing, traveling with him wherever he goes, which hints both at the nomadic nature of much of America’s original native culture and at the rights that accrue with citizenship wherever the citizen goes.

Zig Jackson. "Camera in Face, Taos, New Mexico," 1992, from the series "Indian Photographing Tourist Photographing Indian." Pigment print. Courtesy of the artist and Andrew Smith Gallery © Zig Jackson

Zig Jackson. “Camera in Face, Taos, New Mexico,” 1992, from the series “Indian Photographing Tourist Photographing Indian.” Pigment print. Courtesy of the artist and Andrew Smith Gallery © Zig Jackson


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