“I notice it is only when my mother is working in her flowers that she is radiant, almost to the point of being invisible- except as Creator: hand and eye. She is involved in work her soul must have. Ordering the universe in the image of her personal conception of Beauty (1983: 324).”[1] 

            In her essay, “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens,” Alice Walker discusses the expanse of Black womens’ creativity and artistry, often manifesting alongside the socio-economic and racial violence they face. Walker’s mother tends to the garden through acts of care, knowing both that her garden does not mitigate the violences that impact her life, and also that she will cultivate beauty regardless. 

            In their collaborative performance Push/Pull, artists Faheem Majeed and Damon Green of the Seldoms Dance Company meditate on the labor of care work needed to tend to a space that is invested in the beauty and creative expressions of Black life. For Majeed, the South Side Community Art Center (SSCAC) became his garden, established in the 1940’s and recognized as the oldest African American art center in the U.S. Majeed has worked with the center for years, first as an artist-in-residence and later as Curator and Executive Director (ED). Push/Pull is in conversation with the larger exhibition, Planting and Maintaining a Perennial Garden: Shrouds, currently on display at the Hyde Park Art Center. The performance is a meditation on the labor taken on by a steward of a Black cultural institution, grappling with the various affective power dynamics at play.      

            The 30-minute performance took place on Saturday, June 12, in the center’s Gallery 1, a huge hangar-like space that is home to Majeed’s installation. The shroud is made up of a platform built from wood stained and replicated to represent the flooring and walls of the SSCAC. Large wooden masts rise up about 30-feet and serve as scaffolding for a billowing cloth, almost like a sail, that has been used to imprint a charcoal rubbing of the SSCAC facade. In the dimly lit room, the audience sits in a semi-circle around the stage. The huge gallery doors are open and some of us stand outside near S. Cornell Avenue behind the chairs. 

            Faheem enters onto the stage, dressed in a black suit, yellow tie and black shoes, the “uniform” of a director. The suit alludes to Majeed’s earlier performance work that interrogates demands for respectability placed on him by the SSCAC Board of Directors. In that piece  he recounts an incident in which he was disciplined for wearing “improper” attire that did not reflect his position as Director, on a day he was performing manual labor at the center. He paces across the platform contemplatively, then lies down amidst the cloth that has gathered at the foot of the masts. When Majeed stands up, charcoal has rubbed off on his back, another layer of intimacy established as caretaker- sometimes you get your hands dirty. Majeed approaches one of the masts, grabbing the ropes that hold up the shroud and slowly begins to lower the cloth. As the shroud comes down, something begins moving under the cloth mass and Damon Green’s grasping arms emerge. 

In an ebb and flow of lowering and gathering, Green collects the cloth in a large bundle and inches his body towards the end of the platform as Majeed loosens the ropes. This synergy between Majeed and Green continues throughout the performance. Entangled in the shroud facade, Green sits on the edge of the platform and looks at the audience, before sliding off onto the gallery floor. He does not wrestle with the cloth; it holds his body. Must the caretaker be all consumed by their role, surrendering to the needs of others? 

            As Majeed lowers the shroud, the wooden mast structures are revealed, providing an opportunity to reflect on the foundation of the metaphorical institution.  The overcast sky breaks open and rain moves us all inside. The voice of Douglas R. Williams, former Director of SSCAC, fills the gallery as he recounts his experiences at the center, both as an artist and ED. While Williams speaks, Green spreads the shroud across the platform. He begins a beautiful movement sequence, balancing and shifting the mass of the cloth around his body, taking large steps and circular motions across the stage. Green lays the shroud on the gallery floor, and continues the sequence, incorporating elements of vogue hands performance. As Green flows, Majeed shifts a large wooden crate across the gallery floor, their movements in conversation. 

            The voice echoing changes from Williams’ to Majeed’s, as he discusses his years working with SSCAC. The narratives intertwine in several ways, presenting a cross-generational perspective on leading the institution that is very similar. In the final moments of the performance, Majeed brings the crate onto the platform and shifts it a few times before facing the gallery back wall, turned away from the audience. Green matches his position at the back of the platform, the push and pull at rest. Majeed’s voice is the final sound we hear amidst outbursts of thunder.

            The performance brings up questions about invisible labor, often the work of Black and people of color who maintain art and cultural institutions, such as janitors, receptionists, electricians, plumbers and contractors, among a myriad of others who pour into these spaces. How is this labor valued? Who do we choose to showcase and who remains unseen? How does one negotiate the tensions between respectability and Black subjectivity? How does care-work contribute to the sustenance of Black life? Tending to the garden means navigating the elements, cultivating a nourishment both of self and the environment for which you care so deeply.     

[1] Alice Walker. In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose. Harcourt 1983.