Mother of Invention

No not Frank Zappa's group.  The proverb.  For an artist in prison, necessity IS the mother of invention, powerfully documented in "Marking Time: Art in the Age of Mass Incarceration" an extraordinary exhibition at MoMA's PS1 in Long Island City.  There's even a fancy name for it:  carceral aesthetics.

Consider that James "Yaya" Hough spent 27 years of his life in conditions like these:

At least Ronnie Goodman had access to a studio in San Quentin.  Probably more than he had upon release.  He died homeless.

His portraits emphasize the diversity of the prison population.

Mark Loughney gives an obsessive nod to the claustrophobia of lock-up somewhere in Pennsylvania.

He's still there.

Even a cursory glance around the room reveals that people of color get sent to jail at higher rates.

A self portrait of the intense artist.  The curators don't mention his crime or that of any of the others included in the exhibit, perhaps to keep viewers focused on their talent.  That's a cop-out IMHO.

And such incredible talent it is.  Dean Gillespie used notebook covers, cigarette-pack foil, tea bags and smuggled items to craft these models that recall the innocence of childhood and last-century America.

Jesse Krimes, who committed a drug offense shortly after completing art school, knocked me out with "Apokaluptein 16389067."  Printed on bed sheets, it took three years to make and was assembled only after his release.  Note the nod to Andy.

 Sable Elyse Smith used food trays and stools to sculpt her work.

She also used the trays to frame text documenting the jail-worthy offenses that labor organizers and anarchists took in the early 20th century.

More people than you might think--especially African Americans--have gone to jail for their politics or just living their lives.  Watch the 13th on Netflix if you have any doubt.

Jared Owens alludes to the relationship between slavery and incarceration in this not-quite-abstract painting which depicts the inmate population in the hold of a slave ship.

Photographs by Keith Calhoun restore the humanity of African Americans serving time at Angola, the nation's most notorious prison and a place where slavery never ended.  The man pictured at the right is the facility's oldest inmate.

Billy Sell, sentenced to state prison in California, died in solitary confinement under dubious circumstances before he could get old.  Advocates use this self portrait to press for reform.  He looks as proud and thoughtful as Malcolm X.

The curators cheated a little by including"No Spirit For Me" but who can blame them?

Renee Rowan airs her family's dirty laundry in this amazing installation, crafted from the files used to convict her 60something father of molesting two teenage boys.  Dad molested her, too, years earlier but got away with it.

Say nothing, indeed.

Some of the work, like Gilberto Rivera's, reminds me of the graffiti art I love.

Russell Craig, in this self-portrait works on a larger canvas with materials including dried cow blood.  I wonder where he got that.

James "Yaya" Hough again, the man who spent nearly three decades in the slammer.  I just can't get over these images.  

The pen and ink drawings recall the horrors of Hieronymus Bosch. 

Look what Hough produced when he scored some acrylic.