Art Entry

Picture I took 

Writing invitation:

“Writing Invitation: Settle on one piece of art that you have seen firsthand. Now, write about having that same experience with a visually impaired friend. Alternatively, visit a museum that offers the ­3-D replica feature and see what creative writing you can make of that tactile adventure” (Baugher).

My visually impaired friend - As you enter the exhibit, turn left, gaze right, and feast your eyes on this mask. It is a wooden Lipiko Mask created by the Makonde of Mozambique. The mask is tinted with warm, brown hues. On its right ear hangs a silver earring that gleams in the light and contrasts the earthy tones. The earring is placed not on the lobe but in a spot adjacent to the ear canal. The less prominent nose and absence of hair on the eyebrows draw your attention to the lips, facial markings, and hairstyle. The lips are directed upwards in a smile, yet they emote a feeling better than happiness. Something about the one tooth poking from its large mouth and the wide relaxed eyelids portrays a sense of long-winded bliss, peace, and innocence. Onto the markings, there are three penny-sized black organic dots on the center of its forehead, two brown dots on its glabella, and curved black lines starting from under the eye and ending near the ear adorn both eyes. Face markings usually draw more intense emotion, but these feel natural, comparable to birthmarks. The most remarkable feature is the hair. Organic patches of real human hair decorate the head like an incomplete puzzle. This mask radiates pure joy, and I wish you could experience it like I am.  

I encountered this piece at the Sarah Smith Sutker and Solomon Sutker Gallery in the Michael C. Carlos Museum. There were numerous artifacts in this gallery, but this piece, in particular, drew my attention. Although it was beside an intricately designed vase, this mask struck me because of how addictive it was to observe. After viewing other pieces in the gallery and the museum, I returned to this piece at least two additional times. After some reflection, I realized that I love this piece because it encapsulates a peacefulness rarely seen in adults. The mask appears to be an adult, yet the facial expressions evoke the state of mind of an infant. The eyes appearing relaxed and a single tooth exposed mimics a baby falling asleep after a good meal. This sensation of calm is a feeling that many people, including myself, try yet rarely or never experience. So, having this feeling represented on a mask is a special treat.

I am conscious that speaking as a black woman, I might view this mask as a harmless and tranquil face. But, to others who automatically associate a black person's face, in particular, what appears to be a more masculine face, with danger due to the media's portrayal, childhood upbringing, etc., this mask may be interpreted in a completely different way. For example, if this mask was shown to people in the 1970s during President Richard Nixon’s War on Drugs, I am sure many Americans would associate partly closed eyes, a single chipped tooth, and missing hair with drug use. Although looking at art through an optimistic and devoid of racism lens is fun and less stressful, I think it is more intellectually stimulating to recollect how a piece makes you feel and how it might make others feel. 

It is important to remember that this piece of art is not a portrait or a sculpture but a mask. It makes me question, was this mask put on so people wearing it appear happier, or were they wearing the mask to amplify the joy already inside them? There are many questions I have about the artistic choices of this mask and how it might make other people feel. I believe that the more questions you have after looking at art, the better the rhetoric of the piece. Art convinced me to reflect on my emotions, hypothesize the emotions of others, question the intent of the artist, and it initiated an interest in masks and African art. Art itself is the ultimate rhetorical appeal.

Works Cited

Baugher, Jenée. The Ekphrastic Writer: Creating Art-Influenced Poetry, Fiction and Nonfiction, ebook, McFarland & Company, Inc., 2020.

Lipiko Mask.1940, Michael C. Carlos Museum, Atlanta.