Friday, September 11, 2026

"Blue People


. . . Take the Cat to Work" according to (William) Pope. L, who died too obscurely almost three years ago at the age of 68, after a lifetime of WTF art.


Born and raised in the New York metropolitan area, Pope. L called himself "the friendliest Black artist in America."  He once said  "I am suspicious of things that make sense. " Look no further than his "Skin Sets" for proof.  They're works. often executed with unconventional materials, that categorize people, a little absurdly, by their color if not their skin tone.


In this one, he scrawled "White People Are Sad" in ketchup over and over again.

White Drawing (1977)
"Certainly an Act" at the Drawing Center exhibits dozens of Pope L.'s works on paper, but he's probably best known for his performance art which included a series of "crawls" he called "eRacism."  One, "The Great White Way," took him five years to complete:  wearing a Superman costume with a skateboard strapped to his back, he traversed all 22 miles of Broadway.  Oil painting must have seemed like a walk in the park, although he took his time with that, too.

"Portrait a.k.a. The American Dream Is to Be Able to Think" (1989-90)

"Harriet Tubman Spins the Universe" (1998-2017)
Fans of The Lone Ranger will recognize the title of this large, intense work which also has plenty else to say.  It's what Tonto, a Native American (actually played by one!), called him on a show entirely scripted by white people.  Look carefully at the photo collaged into the top center for Red Cloud, a chief of the Lakota, the only tribe ever to defeat the U.S. Army on American soil.

"Kemosabe" (1994)
99 different interrelated elements including high volume sound comprise this multimedia work, which Pope. L called ""Relational Painting a.k.a. If Black Is Beautiful and beauty is only skin deep then blackness is not all that it seams." According to the label, his misspelling of the last word is deliberate and "underscores his sustained effort to unsettle fixed meanings by exposing the slippages within language itself."  

(2003-2022)
The act of making art was a lot more meaningful to Pope. L than the end result. Like the cliche says, he seems to have enjoyed the journey a lot more than the destination. Though his so-called "Failure Drawings" are quite small and anything but, he worked them over on multiple occasions, embedding the dates of each revision or addition.  

"Near the ?" (#1062,2004)
"Rocket Fumble, Yellow, Blue, Green Sky" (#110, 2004-06)
"The Point Is . . . " (#1250, 2004)
"Problem" (#541, 2008-09)
Pope. L made an indelible impression at the 2017 Biennial with"Claim," certainly the only time I'd ever seen bologna (the cold cut, not the city) on display in a museum, although by the time I got there the aroma had faded. In "Pop Tart Frieze" (1998) he does something similar, using actual, strawberry-flavored breakfast food as a canvas for his commentary on the kind of food scarcity and nutrition he experienced as a child living in a disadvantaged neighborhood.  


Points of view have rarely been as odd or uncommercial as Pope. L's.  I am a fisherman of social absurdity, if you will… My focus is to politicize disenfranchisement, to make it neut, to reinvent what’s beneath us, to remind us where we all come from.

"The Unknown" (not dated)
But his students at Bates College, where he taught for two decades, gave the artist his affectionate moniker (L is the first letter of his mother's maiden name; his grandmother grew cotton on a vacant lot in Bed Stuy because she thought northerners should know what it looked like).  When the National Endowment for the Arts rescinded a $42,000 grant that would have brought "eRacism" to a wider audience through a traveling exhibition in 2001, the Andy Warhol Foundation picked up the cost. And Robert Wilson shot a video portrait of him.  

William Pope. L by Robert Wilson (2005)
I guess if you knew, you knew.  I only wish I had.

 

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