Social Truth Will Set You Free

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They say experiences have the power to shape our lives. Yet many times, it’s not simply the experience or what we may witness, but the people involved who become an essential part of the memories we carry with us.

 

For Maryland-based artist Melvin Nesbitt, sharing stories from his actual experiences through his work are at the core of his artistic evolution. Nesbitt’s more recent work since 2017 is in the form of a more personal theme in the form of elaborate collages resembling paintings. These portray recollections of growing up as a young boy in the Tobias Hartwell Courts projects in Spartanburg, South Carolina, which he refers to as “Tobe.”

 

Social influence is a strong platform for art expression, and the environments in which we grow up can surely influence our worldview. In Nesbitt’s work you’ll find scenes of a reality highlighting the vibrancy of life through daily moments and the joys of being a child growing up there while soaking it all in – the sights, the sounds, the people, the quirks, the community feel.

 

“There are so many great stories to tell about [Tobe] and some tragic ones as well…when you consider the setting (America, the South, government housing), social commentary is unavoidable.  I've only scratched the surface so far,” he says. 

 

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Nesbitt’s newer technique now has a focus on exploring what works best for his current visions, evolving his craft from oil paintings to collage making. “This is also when I started using wood panels as surfaces because it allowed me to do a lot of layers, rip stuff up, etc., just a much more durable surface,” Nesbitt explains. In his work, the usage of shapely imagery is beautifully connected through the pops of color to truly catch the artwork’s story in one glance, which keeps you looking closely at every detail. There is a softness and harshness in the texture that evoke the feeling he’s trying to capture in each piece.

 

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These pieces exude of curious feelings frozen in time, yet ones that remain present today showing the ongoing struggle for many families of color who face social/economical difficulties and injustice. The artist explains, “Our government's lack of empathy towards impoverished children both infuriates and inspires me to try to tell the stories I remember of Tobe.”  

 

Nesbitt’s artwork causes the viewer to ponder about environment and how regardless of where we may come from, we can always make our own future based on our own choices and internal growth. The past will always be there as a reminder of the lessons learned and the steps we’ve taken to get where we are. “I'm more confident that I can address important issues in my art with the honesty and integrity the people involved deserve,” he says.

 

These pieces represent the beauty found in the genuineness of life, one that isn’t a bit pretentious and makes the best out of each present moment.

 

 All images courtesy of Melvin Nesbitt. View more of his work here!

 Today’s poetry pairing is inspired by the realness of Melvin’s work:

 

I, Too

BY LANGSTON HUGHES

I, too, sing America.


I am the darker brother.

They send me to eat in the kitchen

When company comes,

But I laugh,

And eat well,

And grow strong.

Tomorrow,

I’ll be at the table

When company comes.

Nobody’ll dare

Say to me,

“Eat in the kitchen,”

Then.


Besides,

They’ll see how beautiful I am

And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

The Beauty of Needful Things

Figure 1. Cindy Amaya working her craft in the studio.

Figure 1. Cindy Amaya working her craft in the studio.

For Cindy Amaya, being an artist is embracing the relationship between humans and our environmental surroundings. As a recent graduate from Southern Adventist University in Collegedale, TN, Cindy is exploring her creativity by presenting the viewer a glimpse of handpicked organic surroundings with an optimistic viewpoint through her work.

“I’m constantly inspired by the world around me. [It] comes from having a childlike mindset when I'm out in nature. I begin to explore different textures and patterns that can be added to my work. I’m inspired by fun color schemes I see in nature and also by kids,” says Cindy.

In her paintings, Cindy’s use of blank space almost removes nature from its surroundings and puts us face to face with it through very detailed realism and aesthetic techniques of how organic elements compose the overall part of nature she wants us to appreciate, be it whole or abstract. The use of broad strokes intermixed with complimentary shades and lines bring forth an abstract portrayal of nature to some of her work, yet they resemble the wildness and fragility of living things through delicate lines.

Figure 2. Cindy Amaya “Green Your Work #2” (2018).

Figure 2. Cindy Amaya “Green Your Work #2” (2018).

Nature serves as an artistic element. Using these surroundings as a canvas for her current inspiration provides beauty and perception to living things most of us at times take for granted.

She explains, “Nature is good for us. A fact that is often times under-appreciated. Just looking at it and the color green, has this sort of calming effect. When we allow ourselves to me intimate and spend more time looking around, we begin to notice patterns that we didn’t know were there before.”

Appreciation of living things is not an understatement in Cindy’s technique, as nature gives life to the whole ecosystem, including aiding in our existence and that of animals. Through Cindy’s perception we can take a closer look in the safe space these living things provide just by their colors, shapes, and as living, breathing organisms alone. Interlacing this understanding with our surroundings only makes our experience and perception richer of why they matter.

All photos courtesy of Cindy Amaya. To view more of her work, visit her site.

A poetry pairing to Cindy’s artwork:

Turtle Came to See Me
BY MARGARITA ENGLE

The first story I ever write
is a bright crayon picture
of a dancing tree, the branches
tossed by island wind.

I draw myself standing beside the tree,
with a colorful parrot soaring above me,
and a magical turtle clasped in my hand,
and two yellow wings fluttering
on the proud shoulders of my ruffled
Cuban rumba dancer's
fancy dress.

In my California kindergarten class,
the teacher scolds me: REAL TREES
DON'T LOOK LIKE THAT.

It's the moment
when I first
begin to learn
that teachers
can be wrong.

They have never seen
the dancing plants
of Cuba.