Sculpting Power from Silence

The Death of Cleopatra, marble. Edmonia Lewis, 1876.

Sculptor Edmonia Lewis has the distinction of being the first African American and Native American artist to rise to national and international prominence. Born free in Upstate New York, Lewis began her career as a sculptor in Boston. Early success funded a trip to Rome, Italy, where she spent most of her career. Her Neoclassical sculpture often touched on themes related to her African American and Native American heritage. She was so respected that she was invited to produce a piece for the 1876 Centennial Exposition and President Ulysses S. Grant.

This work is considered to be Lewis' masterpiece. Carved in 1876, this massive, two-ton sculpture represents Cleopatra at the moment of her death. The legendary, exotic Egyptian queen committed suicide to avoid being taken as prisoner after the defeat of her armies in a decisive battle with Octavian, who became Augustus Caesar, first leader of the Imperial age of Rome. Lewis adorns Cleopatra in her usual attributes of crown, necklace and bracelets, but dresses her in a more or less Neoclassical garment, which alternately drapes her shoulder and waist and uncovers one breast. The throne appears to have been finely sculpted with many details on the back side. Two identical pharaonic heads decorate the arms of the chair. 

This sculpture is unusual in the canon of Neoclassical portrayals of Cleopatra, as it somewhat inelegantly emphasizes the queen slumped in death. Slouched in her throne, her head thrown back, and still holding the snake in her right hand, Cleopatra's position is highly dramatic. Her face - lacking any Africanized features which would have pointed to the current, progressive acceptance of being Egyptian as also being Black - remains passive.

This monumental sculpture was praised by contemporary critics for its daring expressivity. It commanded a great deal of attention in its debut for the American public, deemed the 'most important sculpture in the American section' in the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial Exposition. It was given pride of place, located in the highly desirable rotunda exhibition space. Despite Black Americans' intentions to have heightened national visibility in this exposition, Lewis was one of only two African American artists to be ultimately included. Her treatment of a subject that was already popular among Neoclassical sculptors remains unique, and is the subject of much scholarly focus. 

Lewis portrays the queen alone in her actions immediately preceding her death. For visual source material, Lewis may have relied upon coins struck during the queen's reign, (undoubtedly visible in Roman collections), which depicted Cleopatra with a straight, narrow-nosed profile. This may have been due to the queen's historically accepted but ultimately unproven partial ancestry as Greek or Roman. 

Abolitionists in the 19th century championed Egypt as Black Africa and imbued Cleopatra with "evidence of African accomplishment and capability of leadership," as Susanna W. Gold writes. Driven by an inner vision, Lewis' work in this perspective slightly differs from the abolitionists' vision, in that her Cleopatra - as she became a center point of the Centennial Exposition of 1876 - may instead be a kind of personification of Emancipation and its immediate aftereffects, which were for Black Americans rapidly proving to be dismal. 

Alternately, Cleopatra was a complex figure who could also be seen as a power-mad, sexually controlling Black woman. Lewis may have wished to separate all black women from this unusual conception of the Queen. The abundance of details, the exposure of the body and the unique face force the viewer to consider the figure as Cleopatra only. Lewis forces the viewer to confront the death of a singular figure removed from us in history, and so she cannot be used as an allegory or a self-portrait. This strategy enabled Lewis to keep her identity as a woman artist of mixed race separate from the queen historically framed as a woman of ethnicity. 

For several years, Lewis' sculpture of Cleopatra literally disappeared from view as an important work by an American woman artist of color. A dentist contacted the Metropolitan Museum of Art and a specialist on the career and work of Edmonia Lewis. The sculpture was finally properly recognized and donated to the Smithsonian Museum of American Art in 1994. 

The Colors of Solace

White and Greens with Blue, an oil on canvas by Mark Rothko 1957

I don’t have adequate words to describe how I feel about our culture today. There is so much divisiveness, so much anger, so much hatred…families hating one another…friends hating one another…simply due to different political beliefs. Riots all over the country. Innocent people dying. People are frightened. Where can one feel safe? When can a child be a child? In my seventy years of life I have never experienced such animosity.

When I feel the weight of our country, I look at works of art that give me solace, even if only for a moment. One work of art that soothes my soul is White and Greens with Blue, an oil on canvas by Mark Rothko, painted in 1957.

Mark Rothko was a Latvian-born Jewish American Abstract Expressionist. He stated, “I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions—tragedy, ecstasy, doubt…the fact that a lot of people break down and cry when confronted with my pictures shows that I can communicate those basic human emotions…If you are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point.”

As I look at this canvas, its serenity draws me in. I am enveloped by the calming colors of blue, green, and white. How can blocks of color affect me so profoundly?

Throughout history, color has carried symbolic meaning. Blue reflects peace, truth, and tranquility. Blue is the color of cool water; it is soothing. Green is the color of nature and health, as well as fertility and safety. The color green is a relaxing hue that is pleasing to the eye and is said to have healing powers. White stands for purity, its simplicity untainted by any other hue. White stands for everything pure, good, and right. White is associated with knowledge and learning. Today, colors continue to express emotional intensity.

I understand his message. I am move by this extraordinary piece, my heart skips a beat, tears well up, and I feel elation and trust. Today, just for today—not yesterday, not tomorrow—I will concentrate on the blue, the green, and the white of this magnificent painting, believing, trusting, and loving all that is good, all that is precious in life. I feel energized and happy. Isn’t it amazing how blocks of color can touch us?