Investigate with Derrick Adams

August 19, 2022

Over his twenty-five-plus year career, Derrick Adams has examined and celebrated the complexities of black life and culture in America. Much of his work centers around an investigation of the humanity of black bodies explored through their universal experiences of leisure, celebration, and play. In doing this, Adams aims to present a holistic rendering of black life.

Adams' sculpture, Fun Time Unicorns, is firmly built atop his belief that Relaxation and play can be revolutionary acts, especially when performed by those traditionally excluded from acts of leisure. Further, Black joy, love, and play should be normalized in American popular culture. This interactive sculpture was created to promote social engagement and play, invoking the idea of Blackness as magical, colorful, mystical, free-spirited, and deserving of protection.

Interview by Emann Odufu
Photography by RaeAnn Walters

Reminiscent of Jeff Koons's "Celebration' series, Fun Time Unicorns is inspired by Children's toys and blow-up balloon animals. The iconic Unicorn, represented in the interactive sculpture, is a continuation of the artist's celebrated Floater series, more specifically the piece Floater 80 (Self-Portrait). The floater series features Black people relaxing and enjoying leisurely moments atop inflatable pool floats in residential swimming pools. The black unicorn figure was birthed from this series, then manifested into a life-size pool float, and eventually into its current iteration as Funtime Unicorns.

The unveiling of this sculpture at Rockefeller Center coincides with the launching of the artist's Edition business and an accompanying website where consumers can purchase editions of the artist's work directly from his studio. As the sole owner of this business, Adams is taking control of his product. The Funtime Unicorn's edition will be similar to the sculpture in Channel Gardens and will be released as an edition of 30, with 10 AP. With this endeavor, Adams is exploring avenues outside of the gallery models to engage collectors and fans of his practice and continue to expand his footprint in an ever-transforming art market.

Emann Odufu - Nowadays, a lot of artists are talking about showcasing black people in leisure as a form of protest. This is a concept I came to through engaging with your work. The first time I saw your work in person was the Floater Series, which showed at Project For Empty Space in Newark, NJ, in 2016.

Then I met you a couple of months afterward in Philly, touring the public art installation "In Search of the Truth" when you were doing a mural for Philly Mural Arts. This past year, I've been writing and interviewing various artists, some of whom have taken great inspiration from your work, specifically this idea of celebrating black leisure and play as a revolutionary act. So, I'm curious about how this concept of leisure and play became a focal point in your practice and what were some of the things that inspired you to pursue this concept.

Derrick Adams - Probably starting in 2010, ideas around this subject matter and theme came into a more refined voice. It came from a desire to see a certain level of normalcy depicted in black life in art. I was interested in how I could play a role in establishing that visual narrative through my creative output. I was looking around at the overall landscape of what was being made by black artists and the conversations surrounding the work of my peers and what they were interested in. I was thinking about my position as an artist and what I could offer through my perspective of looking at black culture in a way that was not as easily accessible at first glance. When you think about leisure or the idea of normalcy or relaxation, that doesn't always trigger such a visceral response as images of protest or politics.

Images not showing black people pushing against something or depicting "the struggle" automatically refers to the idea that it may not be political. Because what I decided to create was not a dominant visual voice at the time, I felt compelled to go in that direction because I felt that it should be more of a prominent conversation within contemporary art. Especially looking at the younger generation and how to position them to be prepared to deal with society on their terms. I was thinking about what the black people I know do daily and what that would look like in art. As a black community, we have always been involved in protests or some level of socio-political unrest and challenges. I think it's important for creative people to look at those struggles and present that to the world. Still, I also believe there is a place to broaden and even complicate Blackness's narrative by introducing other ways of looking at us.

As Americans, we can't help but be part of this idea of the American dream. You work, then you enjoy the benefits of it. That could mean a vacation or some level of reset. Those things as a Black person are amplified even more as a political position. So my constant motivation in my studio is how to present these things that are not very difficult to conjure up and that I find through looking around me and tapping into my community. I tap into it through understanding the people around me and all they have contributed and received from black culture. I'm constantly thinking about putting that into the world and giving the future generation the option to look at art from that perspective.

EO - I read somewhere that the Floater series was partly inspired by photographs of MLK and Coretta Scott King on vacation in Jamaica. Why were these photos so significant to you?

DA - I just started thinking about political figures like MLK, Malcolm X, Coretta Scott King, and Betty Shabazz. I started thinking about them as individuals, mothers, fathers, or brothers and sisters. I started thinking about the things they did between the struggles and the protests. Through research, I began uncovering images of Malcolm with swim trunks and then of MLK and his wife on vacation in Jamaica.

These are not images presented at the top of any Google search of these public figures. So that automatically motivated me to dig deeper. To know that these individuals, who are considered the pioneers of civil rights and who made major sacrifices for us, also had moments of reset and Relaxation while still being incredibly important figures. This cemented everything I think about when I think about the importance of representing people at leisure. It is a significant way of looking at the multidimensionality of black people.

EO - You mentioned that a lot of your work is inspired by your experiences and the people you've met. I read that your first gig was being a teacher at an elementary school, even before you went to Pratt. Do you think that experience of working with children translated into the formation of your practice?

DA - Yeah, of course; I think being an educator - because I also teach at Brooklyn College now - makes you aware of the systematic structure of learning. You understand things from a very fundamental position. You start being aware of what's in the textbooks, the illustrations, and how current the publication is. You're presenting these things to young minds at a very particular time when these are their introductions into American culture. These things also sparked a lot of my interests and direction in art making because I realized that you could redirect and reroute various conversations that spawn from visual language and visual iconography as an artist. Especially if you think about how you want people to view themselves or the community around them. So, teaching gave me a sense of how people see, or the way people understand, based on access or lack of access to images or cultures that will help advance their understanding on a broader level.

As a visual artist, there are things that I want to see as a black person in the world when I go to exhibitions at a museum or a gallery. There are images of Black people in certain settings that appeal more to me. When you think about figurative works containing the black figure, it is more about imagination. It's about really imagining a place where you are in charge and where you are the primary subject, and where you can create any illusion of reality that you want, and this is where you can do it. Maybe this reality you're conjuring up could be happening somewhere, and it could be influential in some ways through your imagination. Putting it in the world might make things exist in a way you envision just by putting it out there. Visual art overall is such a tool of higher learning. The way it operates, you don't even know you're learning. It puts seeds in your head in your brain that grow into other ways of looking at yourself and looking at people you encounter and people who may or may not understand the reference points that you may be putting in the world as an artist.

EO - Can you elaborate on this symbol of the Unicorn in your work, specifically its connection to the Floater series?

DA - A lot of my work has evolved out of ideas that spawn from other ideas. That's how I work. I don't want to overthink the outcome. The Unicorn figure came from a continuous process within the Floaters series when I was first working off images of actual floats. I would buy them from the store and use them in drawings. So, it was more about accuracy and capturing the absurdity of the objects you could buy. I didn't want to make a float because it was more about using the commercialism of what is attached to the actual images in context with the figures. As I started working through it more, I realized that with the direction the work was going, the idea of fantasy became more of a possibility. This is because I was drawing these cartoonish objects. One day I was making a white Unicorn float, and I just said this Unicorn is not even real, so why does it have to be white. It's a mythological or even made-up image. No one has ever seen one, so why is it white? Why can't it be something else? So, the black Unicorn came out of the idea of just seeing something one way and having the ability as an artist to change the narrative simply by changing the color tone. That slight change brought in this idea of politicizing the Unicorn itself just by changing the color of the Unicorn from white to black.

Eventually, I realized that the Unicorn could operate in many different iterations. First, it was a small sculpture, and now it's a spring ride. I think it's almost become a branding thing for me, as a way of reflecting who I am or what I believe in. The Black Unicorn became a symbol of Blackness as a very magical and mystical thing with many mysteries intertwined with what you perceive it to be. The Black Unicorn is very freeing for me to use repeatedly in many ways because I feel like it's more of a declaration for me as a maker, and so I'm always thinking about ways to incorporate it in different forms.

EO - As you know, I went out to the unveiling of Funtime Unicorn at Rockefeller Center and was able to experience the spring rider firsthand. I was very impressed with it. However, this is also the launch of your editions business. To me, I see a connection to Jeff Koons in his Celebration series, specifically the usage of blow-up balloon animals as a source image. I'm curious whether this is something that you were thinking about as you were conceptualizing this edition of Fun time Unicorns.

DA - You cannot overlook the contributions of Jeff Koons, specifically the way he has manipulated objects to appear light which are heavy, and his examination of the American fixation with consumerism and identity politics as it relates to a consumer object. He examines who that object is made for and how it operates within society and in a public space. His public works always have a level of fun and excitement, which I am personally interested in as an artist. However, when I'm making something and putting it into the world, I do expect to have some level of response or engagement with the audience because I'm putting something in a public space.

EO - I'm curious about what factors in the art world, or even personally, led you to decide to start your Editions business at this moment.

DA - I saw it as a perfect time because there are so many ideas that I've had on my list of projects that I want to accomplish. The editions business being one. I like the idea of transforming my ideas into paintings and into things I make that are wearable. Things that I can transform from work on walls to something that people can engage with physically, like a toy or playground equipment. I like to think about accessibility as an approach to engaging with my work. So, whenever I have an opportunity to make an edition, more than one person can have it. More than one person can engage with it. I feel like that's a part of my practice and equally beneficial to me as a maker.

EO - So, I know from prior conversations that community is at the center of your practice, which, to me, is fantastic. I've heard you have a couple of nonprofit organizations you started in Baltimore. Can you tell me a bit more about those organizations?

DA - I believe in community and making art more accessible in many ways. About three or four years ago, I became interested in establishing some nonprofit organizations in Baltimore that relate to ideas surrounding my work. Leisure is one of them, and archiving is one of my interests when making a body of work. So I established the Charm City Cultural Cultivation, a nonprofit organization with three sub-organizations.

One is the Last Resort Residency is a reset, leisure, and social engagement space with a residency component and studios. It is a space for black creators and visual art, literary, culinary, and other forms of creative output to be invited here for a month to experience a space for creativity, community, and social engagement. We hope to launch it next year at some point. We're still establishing the structure for it.

The Black Box, my digital database, is another organization focused on helping the citizens of Baltimore archive their data that family photos, or objects that can be transformed into digital files that will be stored in the database. This is something that we won't own. We will just be the gatekeepers of the data. It's also a space for artists who have done work within the black community around digitizing archive material can have open discussions and workshops with communities that help them understand the importance of archiving, how to access it, and how to share it. The programs will focus on bringing people to the space and creating a community surrounding the database that will have ownership in some way of its direction.

Zora's Den is another organization I started in Baltimore, a Black women writer's circle. They publish anthologies every two years. They just published the second issue, Ironside. Zora's Den is also a workshop format where women come together and edit their writings. Then, they have readings, and they publish their writing.

Art

LIA by Iga Drobisz

Your work often explores intimacy and vulnerability. How do you create a safe and authentic environment for your subjects during a shoot?

The past few months, I’ve been working on two series of photographs: nudes of women in their own apartments and portraits of women before and after giving birth. Both series involve capturing them in deeply personal spaces—bedrooms or nurseries—where they feel at ease.

Shooting in their spaces, in their own beds, plays a crucial role in creating comfort. I choose film and cameras that show them in a way they find beautiful and empowering, emphasizing softness and warmth. It's a stark contrast to modern, hyper-detailed phone cameras that sometimes reveal more than one wants to see.

Your photography has a distinct emotional depth and texture. How do you approach the interplay of light, color, and composition to achieve this?

My process is highly intuitive. I’ve never formally studied photography or apprenticed under anyone—I learned by experimenting and seeing what felt right. It’s about trusting my instincts rather than adhering to rigid rules.

What role do personal experiences or cultural influences play in shaping the stories you tell through your images? Many of your photographs feel deeply narrative.

Growing up, I was surrounded by great cinematography. My grandmother had a TV, but my mom only brought home VHS tapes—films with substance. I think that exposure shaped how I see the world, how I approach subjects, and the narrative depth in my work.

What role does spontaneity play in your shoots? Do you leave room for improvisation, or is everything carefully planned?

To balance spontaneity and structure, I go in with a clear plan and strong direction, but I remain open to surprises. It’s about letting the subject feel like the shoot is about them, not me. That openness often leads to the most unexpected, meaningful moments.

What inspired the shoot with singer Lia? How did it come together?

Collaborating with Ruby and Naomi always takes me out of my comfort zone in the best way. For this shoot, we wanted to transform someone with an iconic face but also someone like Lia—someone with a clear sense of self.

Giving her a completely new look was exciting; it brought an unexpected energy to the set. The approach was playful and experimental. The night before, I had no idea what wigs Ruby would bring or what colors Naomi might choose. It was a beautiful mix of spontaneity and collaboration.

What inspires you the most?

Movies and music are big inspirations for me, as well as the work of other photographers like Carlijn Jacobs, Harley Weir, Rineke Dijkstra, Charlotte Wales, and Nan Goldin.

What emotions or truths are the hardest for you to express through your art, and why?

I don’t think I consciously try to express specific emotions when I work. Instead, I follow what feels right in the moment—what draws me in or excites me that day. It’s less about a deliberate expression and more about letting intuition guide the way.

Art

Luna Luna: Surrealist Spectacle Lands in New York

November 21, 2024

In the 1980s, André Heller, an Austrian artist, singer-songwriter, and former actor, was looking for a new place to showcase his art. He had already taken to gardens, creating a colorful, surrealistic character using 40,000 flowers, and to the skies, organizing a 'fire theatre,' which involved an over-the-top fireworks show complete with steel-frame sculptures set on fire. But he had never tried out a fair.

So began "Luna Luna." Created as the world's first art carnival, "Luna Luna" combined the spectacular with the absurd, showcasing original rides and attractions from rising and already-at-the-top artists in Hamburg. Nearly forty years since its debut, followed by foiled plans for a worldwide tour, breached contracts, and 44 storage containers, the art fair has finally returned, calling New York home after re-debuting last year in Los Angeles.

By Hailey Johnson
Photography by Delvin Claro and Sabrina Sarnitz, courtesy of Luna Luna LLC

On a recent evening in Hudson Yards, a small carousel featured characters in quirky, Twister-like poses and an outstretched dog with seven legs. (Almost a century old, the rides are no longer rideable.) Goofy wooden sculptures were elevated in another corner, some of them cross-eyed or with a horn for a nose. A geodesic dome glowed, with Gregorian chants hovering somewhere above it.

"It's an art experience like no other," Michael Goldberg, Chief Experience Officer of Luna Luna, said recently. "People get to see artists do things they've never done before," he added.

Goldberg, founder of Something Special Studios, a creative agency behind many Nike campaigns, was determined to resurrect “Luna Luna” after reading about it online in 2019. Goldberg shopped for investors, eventually teaming up with DreamCrew, a media company co-owned by the rapper Drake. (Details on the company's investment remain vague; sources have reported that DreamCrew spent over "100 million dollars.") In 2022, an intensive restoration process began, with a team of artists reviving many of the original works, which had remained in boxes in a Texas warehouse for over thirty years. Several had been in pieces. (The team reportedly had to rebuild each work "bolt by bolt.")

That night, at the Shed, fourteen out of the original thirty-five works were on display, including the small carousel (Keith Haring), the goofy sculptures (Kenny Scharf), the neon dome (Salvador Dali), and a towering Ferris wheel decorated in drawings of stick figures, upside crowns, and references to Jim Crow (Basquiat). Missing works are in a "constant state of restoration," Goldberg said. Meanwhile, new attractions are joining the line-up. For the New York show, the Puerto Rican duo Poncilí Creación was commissioned to create "PonciliLand," a blink-and-you-miss-it section where guests "can create fantastical characters out of custom building blocks." Poncili also developed floating characters, inspired by performers who circulated the original “Luna Luna” fairgrounds in 1987. Known as "Lovers," the two characters, large and dreamlike, teetered to one side, mumbling the kind of nervous groans one does before a fall. (They never ended up falling.)

I asked Goldberg if, given that today's culture doesn't quite look or feel the same way as it did in 1987, there was any hesitation in showing some of the original works. On a back wall, a tribute featured Manfred Diex's "Palace of the Wind," a show featuring performers who fart into a microphone; on another, two ornate pedestals held sculptures of spiral poop.

"I don't see any reason why we wouldn't show any of these works," he said. "A lot of the time, art is exclusive and uninviting. The big difference between “Luna Luna” and other art experiences is that it has many sides to it, and things that have a bit of humor and playful energy. "As for "Palace of the Winds,” the decision to keep it was simple: farting is universal. He went on: "The “Crap Chancellery" is, conceptually, one of the most important works in “Luna Luna.” Daniel Spoerri's dad was killed in the Holocaust, and the work was inspired by Albert Speer, who was Hitler's architect. He took the facade of what was meant to be a Nazi shrine and turned it into the facade of a bathroom with two steaming statues of shit standing on the outside. These works are extremely important and are things that we would definitely want to honor and draw attention to."

As “Luna Luna” further develops, the show will likely change. "It will continue to evolve as we go to different cities in response to the spaces that we pop up into and in collaboration with the local city," Goldberg said." With it, there will be new characters and new stories to tell. One aspect that won't change, though, as Goldberg assured, is a long-held sentiment about a potential partnership. At one point, early on during the original “Luna Luna” era, McDonald's wanted to buy into it. Heller said no, adding that he "didn't want it to feel like Disneyland." Goldberg agreed. Nonetheless, as I watched Kenny Scharf's dizzying swing ride go around for what felt like the hundredth time, with the cartoon characters decorated on it blurring together (one with a villain's grin, another morphed into a martini glass), I couldn't help but feel like maybe I was at Disneyland, only not as robbed, but just as entertained and exhausted by its rides and fantastical characters, and wanting to go again.

Luna Luna, Hamburg, Germany, 1987.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.