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DO YOU  FOLLOW?
Wedgwood’s slave emblem, circulation and African American visibility
Riviere Nastasia
PHD student, Rutgers University, NJ





DO YOU FOLLOW?[1] Wedgwood’s slave emblem, circulation and African American visibility


This paper will address the ways in which mobility of an image lead to new meanings. It will examine the circulation of the iconic image “Am I not a man and a brother” from its production to its contemporary use and displays. Although the “slave medallion” is said to be the most famous image of a black person and the most identifiable image of the abolitionist movement there is in fact only a small body of literature relating to it. By exploring the image’s history of circulation, this study intends to shed light on the various meanings of this image through times and places.

From the standpoint that ‘no visible image reached us unmediated’ (Belting, 2005: 304), this study explores how location and relocation affect the meaning of a picture. That is to say that by taking heed of the material and institutional dimensions of the circulation of images[2], this research will look at how circulation and the mechanisms or agents of transportation impact the reception, consommation, use or resistance to an image. It will demonstrate how the channels or networks of distribution have significant effects on the visualization of an image. Drawing on Hans Belting’s claim that « images do not exist by themselves, but they happen; they take place whether they are moving images (where this is so obvious) or not. They happen through transmission and perception » (2005 : 302) our approach will be centered on the image itself and its history of circulation, rather than from the point of view of its producers or audiences. To use the visual expression of J.T Mitchell, images « have legs, that is, they have a surprising capacity to generate new directions… » (1996 : 73). Therefore, this study will retrace the hectic life of the iconic slave emblem in order to grasp the image in its rich spectrum of meanings and purposes. This line of inquiry implies a shift from standard methods of image’s analysis as approached by the traditionalist art history discipline. For this reason, widening the critical look at images, this paper is methodologically reliant on poststructuralism and on the discipline of visual culture. Consequently, convinced that in our increasing interconnected globalized world it is imperative to consider the implication of movement, circulation and transport in the study of an image, this paper will re-contextualize the slave emblem in regard to its different locations. Firstly, we will analyze the slave emblem in its context of creation. Secondly, this study will discuss the dissemination of this image as it became an icon and how both its representation and significances were altered through reproductions. As a result, we will see that the slave emblem became a contested symbol within the African-American community. Thirdly, we will show how the original design has lost some of its part in its translation as it was being repossessed by African American individuals.


The Am I not a man and a Brother? image is formed by a picture and a text. Consequently, the study of the dissemination of this image will consider the relation between the image, text and ideology. Indeed, it will be argued that the image functions as a discourse, which meanings are fluid and are always negotiated and renegotiated, through its diverse spatial and temporal locations, but also through the ideological force in which the image as discourse is used or reproduced. Moreover, it will also analyze what happens when the image is cut off from its text, and how the text has been re-used independently from the picture.  Considering the “Am I not A Man…” image as an icon, we will address it as an” emptied form” that is not static, but rather revised, reconstructed and refilled depending of the context the image is used for. We argue that images are embedded in particular histories as they constitute powerful tools of propaganda to support the dominant ideology in which they are created.



[1] Do you follow? Art in circulation was the title of a 2014 exhibition created by  the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) of London
[2] In Kamila Benayada et François Brunet, « Histoire de l’art et Visual Culture aux États-Unis : quelle pertinence pour les études de civilisation ? », Revue Française d’Études Américaines, n°109, septembre 2006, 50.


Description


The slave emblem represents a nude black figure with his midsections covered by a white fabric. As a result, his body muscle is emphasized. His musculature functions as a visual proof of his social status, he does manual labor. Hands and feet enchained, he is depicted as a slave, kneeling with one knee on the ground, with his arm lifted up to the sky in prayers or in a supplicant gesture. He is not represented as foolish or threatening opposing rampant depictions of black figures at that time. His head is looking upwards as if he was seeking the mercy of God or Christian followers on earth. His left foot is slightly curved as to indicate he is ready to go. This gives a dynamic to the picture and this element juxtaposed to his musculature demonstrate that the black man has some agency and is not lazy. Moreover, the black figure draws on antique forms (even though there is only few kneeling figures in antiquity, the graceful composition, the drapery and the clear musculature suggest an antique model (Hamilton, 2013: 638), it is thus enforced with the superiority, grace and idealized beauty granted to classic models. Cynthia S. Hamilton argues that Wedgwood’s black figure is indebted to Hercules as he was known as the ‘kneeler’ in astronomy and she remarks that he was also represented with developed muscles connected to his forced labor. The association with the classical figure of Hercules brings virtue, strength and agency to the slave figure. In addition, at the bottom of his figure runs a caption with the inscription ‘Am I not a man and a brother’. This text is constructed as a question with the inversion verb subject and the question mark as punctuation. Therefore it implies that this man is addressing someone. Therefore, even though he shows agency in uttering words, the fact that he is asking for his freedom in contrast with a person who will affirm his rights to freedom or take his freedom, the black figure here is still represented as a patient questioner, docile and dominated waiting to be offered liberation from his master (God or Christians). While the picture of this black figure gave a visibility to Blacks during the slavery period, counterattacking the paucity of positive images of Blacks, the text provides them with a voice, which the Black man was usually deprived of. Since the voice is often perceived as the mirror of the thought and of the soul, two elements Blacks were said to be deficient of, this image restores and rehabilitates his identity with humanity. Used to create empathy in its beholder, the image will also raise controversy as it shifted from being viewed as a statement of equality in humanity to the lamentation of a supplicant.
Visual culture and popular politics: the Creation of the slave medallion and the Abolitionist movement


The “Am I not a man and brother” design was not created in the United States as it is frequently assumed. Indeed, it was created in England by the London Committee of the Society for Effecting the Abolition of the Slave Trade (SEAST). SEATS’s mission was to inform people about the ill-treatment of enslaved African and to campaign against the slave trade. To do so, they spread words of freedom and changed mainly through an efficient network of books, pamphlets, prints and artifacts. On May 22, 1787, the committee of the SEAST gathered to agree for the design of the seal of the society for stamping the wax used to close envelops. Although the society was formed by a majority of Quakers[1] who generally despised art as a frivolous and luxurious activity, they were convinced that such an image could have moralizing capacity. One of the founding Fathers of SEAST’ s experience with African goods and slaves’ s artifact is informative of how the society came to regard the visual imagery as powerful instruments in their struggle against the slave trade. Thomas Clarkson’s (1760-1846) visit of the Lively, an African trading ship involved in the Transatlantic slave trade[2], based on the North West England river The Mersey, had a powerful impact on him that is continuously repeated in his various autobiographies. In an effort to gather evidence of the slave trade, he visited many ports. Faced to the beautiful goods of the Lively, he perceived the craftsmanship and skills that were required to produce such items. He collected some of these goods believing that these artifacts could appeal to people’s consciousness in the same way it impacted him[3]. He carried a "box" featuring his collection( figure 1 annex), which became an important part of his public meetings. It was an early example of a visual aid. As a result, SEAST used the same strategy to communicate their political ideas by creating the design of the slave emblem on October 16, 1787 in an effort to mobilize humanitarian emotions in the service of their moral cause. An image (figure 2) of the seal is inserted in Clarkson’s History of the Rise, Progress, and Accomplishment of the Abolition of the African Slave Trade (1808: 450) along with its description:
Yet who created the design and what visual sources they consulted are nowadays unknown. SEAST then commissioned the Wedgwood’s factory to realize a cameo of the design, and by the end of the year Frederick William Hackwood, a modeler for the Etruria factory, finished the cameo. Cameos were already fashionable consumer goods; therefore it was judged adequate to publicize the movement. Josiah Wedgwood (1730-1795), a prominent abolitionist was also a member of the Society, and a famous skillful pottery designer (he was even appointed the Queen’s potter[1]). Wedgwood played a central place in the dissemination of the slave emblem. Indeed, a philanthropist, Wedgwood covered the cost of production and distribution of the medallion. Moreover, he was significantly instrumental in the distribution of this symbolically charged symbol when he created a whole merchandizing circuit around the design, reproducing it on china jasperware, enamels, tea caddie, plates, boxes…(figure 3). This constitutes an early example of what we now call cross media marketing or again a marketing tie-in. Furthermore, Wedgwood marketed the slave emblem through Wedgwood’ trade catalogues, “showrooms, and his small team of travelling salesmen” (156). Yet, the ‘Slave Medallion’ seems to be an early example of what Arvidsson (2008) term as ‘ethical economy,’ an economic system where moral values (instead of current capitalist profit) lead the production of material goods.



Also, Wedgwood offered to pay for an illustration of the kneeling slave to adorn the title page of William Fox[1]’s An Address to the People of Great Britain, on the Utility of Refraining from the Use of West India Sugar and Rum (1792). In less than a year, Fox’s Address became the most widely circulated pamphlet of the eighteenth century with more than 200,000 copies distributed in Great Britain and America (Jennings, 2013 : 176[2]). Wedgwood is notably known today as the 19th most influential businessman of all times (Forbes, 2005), as if he was able to transform a common design into a very famous brand and more importantly, an object of desire. Indeed, the slave emblem was very successful across social and political divide. The slave emblem was an instant hit. Also, Cynthia S. Hamilton (2013) informs us that Clarkson noted that he had received some 500 such medallions for distribution (633[3]).  As Thomas Clarkson accounts:
There were soon as the Negro’s complaint, in different parts of the Kingdom. Some had them inlaid in gold on the lid of their snuff-boxes. Of the ladies several wore them in bracelets, and others had them fitted up in ornamental manner as pins for their hair»
 He thus remarked:
  At lenghts, the taste for wearing them became general ; and thus fashion, which usually confines itself to worthless things, was seen for once in the honorable office of promoting the cause of justice, humanity and freedom ( 1808 : 154[4]).
Women, who were at that time banned from voting, could visually voice their opinion by wearing a slave emblem pins hair. Notwithstanding a tea set enables people to display their convictions and beliefs, it was also a way to fashion one’s identity in solidarity with the abolitionists rather than to take an active part in the movement.  Yet, as Adam Hochschild noted, Wedgwood’s slave emblem was « probably the first widespread use of a logo designed for a political cause » served as the « equivalent of the label buttons we wear for electoral campaigns » (2006 : 128[5]) ; All in all, Wedgwood’s products were imported by lot of country, such as USA, Germany, and France, disseminating  slave’s suffering and humanity. Moreover, In February 29, 1788, Wedgwood sent Benjamin Franklin, then President of the Abolition Society in America, a package of his jasper cameos and slave emblem ‘Am I not a Man and a Brother?’ and wrote:
 I embrace the opportunity to enclose for the use of your Excellency and friends, a few cameos on a subject which, I am happy to acquaint you, is daily more and more taking the possession of men's minds on this side of the Atlantic as well as with you. It gives me a great pleasure to be embarked on this occasion in the same great and good cause with you, Sir, and I ardently hope for the final completion of our wishes.’
 to what Franklyn replied in a letter dated 15 May 1789:
I have seen in their viewers’ countenances such mark of being affected by contemplating the figure of the Suppliant that I am persuaded it may have an effect equal to that of he best written pamphlet, in procuring favour to those oppressed People”.  
As early than November 1788, the Connecticut newspapers the New Haven Gazette notified the public that the ‘American Society for the Abolition of the Slave Trade have the following device for their seal – A Negro naked, bound in fetters, and kneeling in a suppliant posture – the motto, Am I Not a Man and a Brother!’[6] and in 1837, Wedgwood’s kneeling slave appeared on John Greenleaf Withers’s anti-slavery poem  Our countrymen in chains. Wither was an American Quaker poet and advocate of the abolition of slavery.  On the 1837 broadside publication of the poem, we can read that leaflets of the poem were « Sold at the Anti-Slavery Office, 144 Nassau Street. Price TWO CENTS Single; or $1.00 per hundred. ». The poem was therefore used as a powerful of propaganda, appealing to the reader through the choice of words but also through the image of the supplicant slave. Also, a note at the bottom of the poem informs the explicited comparison establishes throughout the poem between England kingdom and the Free United States : * ENGLAND has 800,000 Slaves, and she has made them FREE. America has 2,250,000!—and she HOLDS THEM FAST!!!. Most importantly, the religious reading of the image « Am I not a man » is reinforced by the poem, where appears at the very end the quotation from the Bible: “ He that stealeth a man and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death (Exodus. xxi. 16)”. This association of text with the Wedgwood’s slave emblem renders more explicit the un-christianity of the slavery system that the original image was trying to convey. Yet, if the design penetrated the American soil, it was not long before creating raging debates and for active measures to curtail this surge of free speech. Indeed, the image was deemed « incendiary » (Patton, 75). In the summer of 1835, while antislavery partisans were organizing and distributing propagandist tracks, including the slave emblem on them, through the mail boxes of the South, At Charleston, South Carolina, on 29 July, a mob of three hundred citizens decided to seize the abolitionist materials and to burn them. Correspondingly, the « mail controversy » led President Andrew Jackson to call for a law to prohibit « under severe penalty » the circulation of abolitionist tracks in the South[7]. However, it is significant to mention that the myriad of representations copying Wedgwood’s black figure altered some features of the original and as a result its significance shifted. Indeed, the slave was represented with a more caricatured set of African features unlike the original that represented a more universal man as to convey universal human rights. Conversely, through its multiple reproductions, the slave emblem was being reframed as the Other.  Also, his musculature was less prominent and he is standing both on his knees which consequently, Hamilton argued, gave « him less potential to rise unassisted » (2013 : 642). Therefore, he was being represented as a less graceful and a less potently able being, but rather as the Other or victim in need of rescue from the White man. As a result, the slave emblem became less an emblem of a common humanity than an emblem for abolitionists to display their convictions and actions and to fashion them as good believers and potent saviors. It enabled abolitionists to affirm their own agency.

The study of the circulation of the Wedgwood’s kneeling slave is informative of the continuous exchange of abolitionist ideas and objects between England and the United States, and of the role of these networks in the history of the abolition of slavery. It is also particularly instructive of how images came to be considered and used as a vehicle of politically charged message and as tools to publicize the movement of abolition. Indeed, the Wedgwood’s slave emblem became a key element in the visual vocabulary of abolition. The mobility of the “am I not a man..” design testifies of its rousing success and in the effort to bring awareness to the cause how abolitionist came to pick moralizing artifacts. Yet, it is also – if not more so- a way to emphasis the role of White abolitionist in the movement, since as we discussed, people used the emblems as a fashion statement in support of the abolitionists. Moreover, it also reveals how the abolitionist movement created a vast network of artistic exchanges. For instance, American printmaker and engraver Patrick H. Reason was sponsored by the New-York Anti-Slavery Society to study the engraving technique in London. In 1839, on his return Reason realized a copy of Wedgwood’s slave emblem in a copper-engraving of the same title for the Philadelphia Vigilant Committee, an African-American benevolent organization.
 The « Am I not a man… » design persisted on the other side of the Atlantic, where it informed representations of African-Americans. Yet, the « kneeling slave » will run free from its inscription « am I not a man and a brother ».



2/ Public monuments and contested visibility

The image of the slave, hands clasped in chains, asking for freedom have a long survival through art history and African American art history in particular. Arguably, the enduring presence and influence of this iconography throughout the US visual culture is another form of circulation of this image. After the civil war, the new society recently emancipated from slavery sought to represent and/or commemorate the peculiar institution and American freedom. They often referred to Wedgwood’s figure in what will become the first time a black figure would appear in national monuments. Perhaps its most famous visual manifestation is Thomas Ball’s The Emancipation group sculpture taking place in the Freedmen’s memorial to Abraham Lincoln. Located in Lincoln Park, In Washington DC., the sculptural project was completed in 1876.  It was financed by freed Blacks; However, it was the « friends » of the freedmen who would determine the character of the monument (Savage, 1999 : 92[1]). Although the freedmen considered a visual monument addressing the freedom of Black slaves merely as just a representation but rather as an enactment in itself, that is to say a way to « translate into the sculptural language of the human body principles of freedom that remained abstract and barely imaginable » (89), the sculpture however forms an archetype of the slave emblem, not a freed man. That is to say they modeled the structures upon the later representation of the slave emblem rather than on Wedgwood’s original. Indeed, the slave figure is on his knees, but totally stripped off of any individual agency. On the contrary, Abraham Lincoln stands above him, in a paternalistic manner. His elongated hand is placed above the slave’s docile curving back, in an authoritative yet protective manner. Here, the slave emblem is once again dependent of white authority, both in the realization of the sculptural project, but also visually as a subject of Lincoln’s liberation. The slave figure is also naked with the folds of the drapery covering his midsection, yet there is no heroic aspect in his nudity, but rather a negation of its masculinity. Manhood is monopolized by the white figure standing upward in its grandeur. However, the Emancipation group sculpture succeeded to manifest freedmen’s own civic responsibility in the creation of a public monument, while Wedgwood’s design rested entirely on White abolitionist avenues and networks.

Edmonia Lewis’s sculpture Forever Free (figure 7) is an earlier example of the influence of Wedgwood’s kneeling slave in artwork related to slavery.  In 1867, the first documented American sculptor of African-Indian descent Mary Edmonia Lewis completed her marble sculpture representing a black couple. While the man’s stance and his raised arm are interpreted as a triumphant and protective gesture, the woman is kneeling and begging her hand joined together. The woman figure copies a familiar image as Sharon F. Patton remarked (2006: 95) : the women’s abolitionist emblem which was modeled after  Wedgwood’s male slave. Indeed, women abolitionist movements also adopted Wedgwood’s emblem to proselytize their cause by transforming the male slave into a female slave, sometimes with the motto: « Am I not a woman and a sister? ». For instance, The Liberator[1] used it as a header for the ‘ Ladies’ s Department’ column( figure 8). In addition, the design was also used to appeal to women’s rights in general, not just the black woman. In choosing an emblem of slavery, they were expressing the forceful view that women as a gender were also treated as slaves, as various forms of patriarchal domination have colonized them. When women are subjected to both the “colonial” domination of empire and the male-domination of patriarchy, we used the catchy phrase “double colonization”.  The two meaning of the same image informed us of the various possible readings and interpretations of Forever Free. Indeed, many scholars have discussed the complexity of this iconography (see Kirsten P. Buick, “The Ideal Works of Edmonia Lewis: Invoking and Inverting Autobiography”, American Art Vol. 9, No. 2 (Summer, 1995), pp. 4-19 for an exhaustive discussion of the various interpretations). In short, either Lewis’s sculpture gave a visibility to the female slave ‘s struggle in slavery, or it gage a visibility to her struggle as a subject of male’s patriarchism, therefore the victim of both slavery and patriarchal oppression. Moreover, some regarded the sculpture as a unit not as a group of two oppositional figures as they remarked that Forever free expresses visually the African-American family struggle that will face the community after emancipation.




To conclude, the conversation taking place between later work of art focusing on slavery and Wedgwood’s prototype of a representation for a suppliant slave also inform us of the circulation of an image, and how its meaning can be altered and transformed through times and places. More recently, the circulation of the slave emblem prototype has created discontents in the United States as some people criticized the contemporary use and visibility of this figure in the modern American society. Indeed, they regarded the slave emblem as a reminder of the atrocities of American past. Also, they consider it as another example of a White’s visual representation of a black figure where a black person is depicted as inferior, supplicant for freedom and as a good Christian black slave. For this reason, they judged the image pejorative and negative, and viewed its dissemination as belonging to a racist discourse. Their reactions offer us a rich insight into the enduring life of the slave emblem and its lingering impacts. The way people appreciate an image through time also evokes its circulation, as the reception of an image is channeled through times and place, discourse and particular histories.








The unrealized project of the African American artist Fred Wilson entitled E Pluribus Unum indicates the recurrent problem of representing a racial figure without conveying stereotypes. It forms an example out of many of how the African American community feels it has the right of a larger say in the matter of how they are represented and how their history should be represented, even though it might be in opposition with dominant ideologies and discourse. Fred Wilson’s project consisted of a public sculpture representing an emancipated slave. It was to be located in downtown Indianapolis, yet the whole project was eventually dismissed as it was faced by major protestations. Wilson’s cultural scheme was to create a public sculpture with a black figure in it since Wilson remarked there was only one public artwork in the whole city displaying a black figure, namely the Soldiers and sailors Civil war memorial group sculpture (figure 9). The sculpture was made by Rudolf Schwarz in 1902 and the black figure shares some characteristic with Wedgwood’s slave emblem, notably he is looking up at the allegorical female figure of freedom, raising his hand towards her in an effort to reach her. Wilson wanted to “rework” the Schwarz’s black figure by giving it its independence from the other characters surrounding it and especially the allegorical figure of freedom. In a sense, Wilson’s black figure would have looked even more as Wedgwood’s, although Wedgwood’ slave is still tied to another presence mostly because he is representing begging, implying an interlocutor. Wilson wanted to emancipate his slave figure from any other controlling or superior figure for the black figure to become simply: ‘ a person, he is a man, and he can represent something else, something positive;’ His project was driven by a desire to reimagine the black figure’s identity and to give him individuality and agency as he would have held a flag of the African diaspora. Wilson’s unrealized project reveals potential reasons why the slave emblem came to be less frequently appropriated as it was perceived as a negative caricature of a victim. Indeed, Wedgwood’s black figure proved to be more difficult to adapt to different contexts and to be re-used through time as it was regarded as derogatory. Yet, as we will see his text « Am I not  a man… » has resisted as it penetrates various historical events, enter different locations and was appropriated by distinct social, racial and gendered individuals. This exemplifies how through mobility some images or some parts of an image move, adapt or stick better than others.



3/ I AM A MAN and the archival impulse.

The figure of Wedgwood’s slave was not the only thing that widely circulated in the United States. Other parts of the emblem were re-used and transformed to fit specific contexts and narrations. Indeed, the motto “Am I not A Man and a Brother?” will re-emerge in various contexts, independently from the figure of the black slave. As such it is an example of how symbol, icon and myth work as blank screen upon which discourse can project themselves, that is to say that Wedgwood’s figure and motto serve as mute candidates for “human ventriloquism”. By separating the image from its text, both find a new freedom and meanings. 

In 1968, for instance, during the Civil Right Era, the motto coming from Wedgwood’ s slave emblem resurfaced with a little adjustment: from “Am I not a man and a brother” the motto became “I am a man”.  As can be seen, the motto went from a question to a statement. The 1968 motto was being produced both orally and visually during the Memphis Sanitation Workers' Strike as it was used as a sign.  The strike was captured by the Memphis-based African-American photojournalist Ernest C. Withers (1922-2007) most famous for his visual documentation of key historical moments of the Civil Rights movement. Memphis Sanitation workers were taking the streets to protest after that two workers were crushed to death due to a malfunctioning truck. Using as rallying cry the sign « I am a man » they expressed that labor rights are also human rights. The link between Wedgwood’s motto and I am a man give an in-depth understanding of how they regarded their situation: namely an instance of modern- day slavery. Using this similar motto they were drawing a striking visual and social parallel between the dehumanization of slavery and the inhuman condition contemporary work system. Even though they did not use the figure of the kneeling slave, the picture transcribes another black body as the producer of the motto, the strikers. Conversely, by reusing this motto themselves, the strikers actualized Wedgwood’s slave emblem, not only for commenting on their actual slavery but also as a way to repossess the fight against slavery. They are not performing as victims asking for pity as seen on later reproductions of the slave emblem. Rather, they affirm their agency to spark a march to voice their struggle. Displaying their physical black body instead of a representation of a black figure seems to be a comment against visual stereotyping and ”othering” that are inscribed in slave emblem.  However, one crucial difference with Wedgwood’s motto is the absence of the rest of the sentence: and a brother?. I will argue that the sentence was cut off because it was not a period when African-Americans (the majority of the striker during the Memphis strike were African Americans) sought brotherhood with White men. Indeed, the Civil Right period also witnessed the upsurge of Black Nationalism and other separatist ideologies. Moreover, the verb be is underlined visually as to meaningfully emphasize that African Americans are not asking anyone to grant them humanity, freedom and right, but they are rather asserting them since the verb be is one of the strongest tools of assertion and the present tense also conveys immediacy. Therefore, it departs significantly from Wedgwood’s original that was using a question sentence with the subject-verb inversion and the question mark as punctuation.  In addition the new motto is a subject complement where “I” and “man” are equal and interchangeable entity, with the verb be as a the bond between the two as an instrument of definition. Thus, they are asserting their full membership in manhood and humanity.

   




Wither’s photograph I am a man: Sanitation workers assemble in front of Clayborn Temple for a solidarity march, Memphis, Tennessee, 1968 has now become an icon of the Visual culture of the civil right struggle and continues to be widely spread through a network of merchandizing, such as postcards, poster, book covers… and other portable objects such as t-shirt or buttons that disseminates the message I am a Man even further in the same way Wedgwood’s medallion was turned into a fashion artifact. Moreover, Withers’ s image continues to circulate also via cultural institutions such as Black history museums (the National Civil Rights Museum of Memphis for instance) and special exhibitions with the Civil Right period as a focus. For instance, the travelling exhibition For all the World to see: the Visual culture and the struggle for Civil rights organized by the Center for Art, Design and Visual Culture of the University of Maryland, and in partnership with the National Museum of African American History and Culture, Smithsonian Institution has adopted Withier’s image as the header of its online exhibition[1] and as a cover for its companion book (Yale university Press). The MoCADA museum also celebrated the legacy of the iconic motto I am a Man in 2008 with a special exhibition regrouping a dozen of artists paying homage to Withiers’ s photograph (Sept.25, 2008- Jan. 18, 2009, curated by Kevin Powell). In addition, during the opening weeks of the exhibition New York Times photojournalist Chester Higgins Jr., organized a photo shout with two hundred men wearing T-shirts emblazoned with “I Am a Man” as to recreate Withers’ s image.





African American Glenn Ligon and Hank Willis Thomas were some of the artists included at the MoCADA show whose works appropriated Wither’ s iconic image. Their artistic engagement belongs to a larger artistic practice of revision, recycling and re-appropriation of found objects or mass popular culture images that began with cubism and was most evident in Duchamp’s ready-made of Warhol’s Marilyn for instance. Their work are also instances of archival art, that is to say art that “ elaborates on the found image, object and text, and favor the installation format” so as to “ make historical information, often lost or displayed, physically present” (Hoster, 2004, 4). This type of appropriation of previous images is another form of circulation of the prototype image and informs us of its social life, and how people and artists with their own frame of reference will relate differently to the image.







In 1988, Glenn Ligon completed his oeuvre “untitled” ( I am a man) ( figure 12), a oil and enamel on canvas. Consequently, the message of the Memphis strikers’ s placard is here transported to a painting on a canvas. Re-appropriation is the touchtone of Ligon’ s work, whose engagement with quotation, literary and discursive production represents the core of his oeuvre. Ligon’ s Untitled feigned to be a ready-made as it shares striking similarities with the Memphis strikers ‘s placard. Yet, by giving a rich visual and material texture to the word Man, he represents a black body without using figuration. By doing so, he is commenting on the social invisibility tied to the Memphis sanitation workers and how they became visible both as Black men and Black workers when raising the placard I am a Man during the 1968 strike. Ligon’ s image also expresses regimes of visibility that preconditions the visualization of black body. Indeed, his black letters are only visible because they are thrown upon a sharp white background[1]. It is a way to discuss US cultural institutions and its networks, but also the largest history of black figuration in the US culture with the Whites’ dominance on the definition and representation on Blacks’ identities. This work can also be interpreted as a self-portrait, a statement f identity from Ligon. Correspondingly, we are left to wonder who does the ‘I’ refer to? To Wedgwood’s slave? To the Memphis strikers? Given that his work is in conversation with the history and the circulation of the motto Am I not a man and a brother? And I am a man, it draws on the various meanings of the uses of the motto that ends up merged in this single canvas.








In 2009, Hank Willis Thomas widened the possible identities which lies in the vernacular statement ‘I am a man’ by re-interpreting the sign in a series of twenty photographs, creating a sort of timeline of the use of the sentences through history from “I am 3/5 man , Am I a man… I am a Man… I am Your man…Ain’t I a woman, I am a Woman, I am Human… I am Amen”. This series condenses racial, sexual, social, political issues of identity that are gathered in the text I am a man.



More recently, in 2012, the French street artist JR brings to life Whitiers’ s image as he took the 14th street in Washington D.C by covering an entire unoccupied building with Withiers’ s iconic photograph of the Civil Rights era. His in-situ artistic performance is another example of what scholar Hal Foster named the « archival impulse ». He pasted a giant single image of Withiers’ photograph in the same corner of the street where the strike exploded, as he stated: “They created such a strong and powerful image that still resonates today, but in another context. Still people say, ‘I am a man,’ but they care less about the color [of their skin]. It’s ‘we are humans, we are here, we want to exist.’ And I like that, I think that’s pretty powerful”[1] ( J.R, 2012 in the Washingtonpost).






CONCLUSION

Studying the “Am I not a man” image through its history of circulations provides us with a rich analysis of the dynamics of visual rhetoric. Indeed, from its context of creation, the mechanism of its diffusion and the agents of its dissemination, discourse were brought into the image, impacting its reception. They were discourse of dominance and hegemony that fixed the experience of Wedgwood’s black figure into a victim.  The circulation of this image also informs us about the visibility of Black figures through times and how little by little not only more visibility was required by African Americans but also different kind of representations in which the African American community will be in control of the depiction and presentation of the black figure. With this in mind, we are offered accordingly an in-depth understanding of why people and artists feel the need to re-appropriate the image as it is informative of why the circulation of the image in the public society triggers some discontents. Consequently, the study of the image’s circulation has enabled us to grasp the varieties of meanings attached to it and the role it has plays in the visibility of black figures. While some parts of the image were lost through time at the advantage of others, we suggested that the separation of the text from the image was a liberation for the survival of the image. It was reshaped into a direct experience of black and white lettering without the derogative representation of a black figure. Accordingly, the motto I am a man was reshaped into a universal statement of racial, sexual and social content and stands more in line with Wedgwood’s original.


BIBLIOGRAPHY



Belting
, Hans, «  Image, Medium, Body: A New Approach to Iconology », Critical Inquiry; Winter 2005; 31, 2; ProQuest Direct Complete
Benayada, Kamila ; Brunet, François., « Histoire de l’art et Visual Culture aux États-Unis : quelle pertinence pour les études de civilisation ? », Revue Française d’Études Américaines, n°109, septembre 2006

Bernier, Celeste Marie, Newman, Judie.,  Public Art, Memorials and Atlantic Slavery, Routledge, 2013

Clarkson, Thomas , edt by James P. Parke, The history of the rise, progress, & accomplishment of the abolition of the African slave-trade, by the British Parliament , No. 119, High street, 1808

Foster, Hal, « the archival impulse », October, vol.110, Autumn 2004, the MIT PRESS
Hall, Stuart, Representation: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices, SAGE, 8 avr. 1997
Hamilton, Cynthia S.  « Hercules Subdued: The Visual Rhetoric of the Kneeling Slave, Slavery & Abolition: A Journal of Slave and Post-Slave Studies », Routledge, 2013
Historicus, ‘February 5, 1788’, The New Haven Gazette, and the Connecticut Magazine, 
November 13, 1788, 3, 45.
Hochschild, Adam, Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the Fight to Free an Empire's Slaves, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2006

Jennings, Judith, The Business of Abolishing the British Slave Trade, 1783-1807, Routledge, 2013
Jones, Phillip E., Mariners, Merchants And The Military Too, A history of the British empire,

Mercieca, Jennifer Rose,  “The Culture of Honor: How Slaveholders Responded to the Abolitionist Mail Crisis of 1835”
Mitchell, W. J. T,  What Do Pictures "Really" Want?
: October, Vol. 77, Summer, 1996, published by The MIT Press

Patton, Sharon F., African American art, Oxford University Press, 1998
Rothkopf, Scott ; Als, Hilton ; Golden, Thelman, Glenn Ligon: America, Whitney Museum of American Art, 2011
Savage, Kirk, Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves: Race, War, and Monument in Nineteenth-century America Princeton University Press, 1999



SITOGRAPHY

Official website of French street artist JR: http://www.jr-art.net/fr

Official website of the African American artist Fred Wilson: http://www.fredwilsonindy.org/

Official website of the African American artist  Hank Willis Thomas : http://www.hankwillisthomas.com

The library of congress: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2008661312/
The exhibition for all the world to see website: http://www.umbc.edu/cadvc/foralltheworld/
The exhibition I am A man at the MoCADA website: http://mocada.org/i-am-a-man/





[1] Maura Judkis French artist JR covers D.C. building with iconic photo of civil rights era » Washington post, 2012, retrived at http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/french-artist-jr-covers-dc-building-with-iconic-photo-of-civil-rights-era/2012/10/10/8f02e080-12fd-11e2-a16b-2c110031514a_story.html




[1] He further explored this relation in his 1990 work entitled I feel most colored when i am thrown against a shapr white background , appropriating the famous quote of the African American writer Zora Neal Hurson’s book How it feel to be a colored me.






[1] The liberator ( 1831-1865) was originally an abolitionist neswpaper and also became a woman’s rights advocators when in 1838  they made the paper’s goal “to redeem woman as well as man from a servile to an equal condition,” it would support “the rights of woman to their utmost extent ».



[1] Savage, Kirk , Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves: Race, War, and Monument in Nineteenth-century Americ, a Princeton University Press, 1999




[1] http://www.brycchancarey.com/abolition/williamfox.htm, the address advocated to restrain from West Indian produce as a means of ending the slave trade. It led to the Abstention movement.
[2] Judith Jennings , The Business of Abolishing the British Slave Trade, 1783-1807, Routledge, 2013
[3] Cynthia S. Hamilton, « Hercules Subdued: The Visual Rhetoric of the Kneeling Slave, Slavery & Abolition: A Journal of Slave and Post-Slave Studies », Routledge, 2013
[4] , Thomas Clarkson , edt by James P. Parke, The history of the rise, progress, & accomplishment of the abolition of the African slave-trade, by the British Parliament , No. 119, High street, 1808

[5] Adam Hochschild , Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the Fight to Free an Empire's Slaves, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2006
[6] Historicus, ‘February 5, 1788’, The New Haven Gazzette, and the Connecticut Magazine, November 13, 1788, 3, 45.

[7]  Jennifer Rose Mercieca, “The Culture of Honor: How Slaveholders Responded to the Abolitionist Mail Crisis of 1835” at https://www.academia.edu/227142/The_Culture_of_Honor_How_Slaveholders_Responded_to_the_Abolitionist_Mail_Crisis_of_1835





[1] Celeste Marie Bernier, Judie Newman, Public Art, Memorials and Atlantic Slavery, Routledge, 2013, p 83



[1] SEAT was originally founded by six Quakers and three Anglicans.
[2] Phillip E. Jones Mariners, Merchants And The Military Too, A history of the British empire







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