Abstract and Conceptual Practice- My Kind of Protest / by Janelle Dunlap

Within the course work and lecture topics of my first semester with the LowResidency MFA program, I have found unexpected direction and inspiration with my work as a conceptual artist. When I first began engaging in creative practice, many who I sought guidance from referred to me as a conceptual artist. I never understood what this meant, I however, considered this belief under the assumption that I wasn’t an artist who actively produced for commercial reception. Along this path I continue to discover mediums, experimenting with all forms of art, a continuum of work that I’ve always wanted to live beyond a canvas. 

I, however, have found a new canvas and new medium with encaustic paints. This journey has led me to practice in abstraction, a cathartic expression that allows me to create my form. My interest in using abstraction as a form of visual narrative connects my social practice as a beekeeper to the visceral nature of raw materials such as beeswax. This process begins with my relationship to each hive I harvest wax from, meditative in practice, this work channels meaningful connections and messages. The privilege of caretaking for this endangered species offers additional opportunity to reimagine the use of comb given the rare occasion of swarming or colony collapse. Encaustic paint making is alchemy; transmutation initially appeared in my practice of harvesting honey; however, the transformation evolved in January 2020 during my residency at Sweet Water Foundation, where fellow artist Tanya Scruggs Ford taught me this process. Luckily quarantine offered additional time to refine this practice resulting in the production of over 20 colors varying in composition with lighter pigments creating a smooth texture and darker ones having a rougher texture. So far I have collection of 11 10x12’ wooden panel abstract pieces that I am preserving by sealing these with clear acrylic, which is producing mixed results. Abstraction is a strange ever evolving process in which narratives are not always apparent. Current events however are planting seeds of inspiration.

During a lecture on public art with my graduate seminar professor, Hamza Walker; I began to understand the value of conceptual work. In response to a global calling for statues of significant figures in history who share oppressive narratives of slavery, genocide and colonization; Donald Trump has proposed a statue garden. “Mr. Trump’s order, which does not put a price tag on the project, says only that it should be located near a population center “on a site of natural beauty that enables visitors to enjoy nature, walk among the statues, and be inspired to learn about great figures of America’s history.” It also notes that all statues in the garden “be lifelike or realistic representations of the persons they depict, not abstract or modernist representations,” echoing prior efforts within the Trump administration to reject modernist designs for federal projects.” This notion that history must only be represented in “realistic” representations as this person fails to acknowledge the very real tragedies brought on by figures white supremacy have long labeled heroes; fall into ironic alignment with the dystopian reality that is 2020. I foresee abstraction and conceptual art contested in the coming era of far-right tyranny. And it is with this reckoning that I have discovered my form of protest.