What a difference a year makes. When news first broke that artist Mark Bradford would represent the United States at the Venice Biennale it was April 2016, a time when Donald Trump’s presidency seemed like a long shot at best. Now, on the eve of the international exhibition, on view from May 13 to November 26, America is still coming to terms with that historic election. Bradford, though, hasn’t changed course. As he told a group of journalists over lunch earlier this year, “There’s always been a Trump.” One can’t help but wonder whether the Los Angeles–based artist—black, gay, progressive—would be the President’s first choice as a national spokesperson. “Venice is like the Olympics,” explains senior curator Katy Siegel of the Baltimore Museum of Art, which is presenting Bradford’s project in collaboration with the Rose Art Museum at Brandeis University. “To be chosen is a huge honor.”
A reigning art-world superstar, Bradford is certainly worthy of the recognition. For the past two decades he has been making politically charged, visually arresting canvases, albeit eschewing any ordinary use of paint. After layering everything from end papers used at his mother’s hair salon to posters that line South L.A. streets, he then scratches, scrapes, and sands their surfaces to create richly textured abstractions. In some, radiating lines nod to city maps. In others, molecular motifs reference the AIDS virus. As Siegel explains, “Embedded in these materials are the histories of those communities.”
Beyond the title—_Tomorrow Is Another Day—_what exactly Bradford has brewing for Venice remains a carefully guarded secret; but expect something ambitious, a mix of new and old work. “Mark is like an athlete in that he immediately went into seclusion, doing nothing but eating health food, swimming, and making art,” Siegel recalls of his planning process. “This pavilion is the culmination of 20 years of mature work.” Bradford is the first to admit he can’t sit still: “The only thing I’ve ever been able to do is keep moving. If I keep moving, things will get better.”
Chances to improve the world are what motivate Bradford, who in 2014 cofounded Art + Practice, an L.A. foundation that provides public programming and support services to foster youth. He is bringing that same sense of social engagement to Venice, where, in addition to showing at the Biennale, he is partnering with Rio Terà dei Pensieri, a local cooperative that provides employment opportunities to prison inmates. As part of a six-year project, they will open a storefront in Venice to sell goods made by incarcerated men and women, drawing attention to the problems of the penal system. “I knew I couldn’t just do the pavilion,” says Bradford. “I wanted to stand on both my legs.”
This fall, he’ll also take his message to Washington, D.C., with a solo exhibition at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden. Opening November 8, the exhibition will feature a site-specific cyclorama filling the circular building’s entire third-floor inner gallery. At nearly 400 feet long, the work—comprising eight paintings—will not only be among his largest to date but will also mark a significant shift in his practice, incorporating historical figurative imagery—specifically elements from Paul Philippoteaux’s 1883 cyclorama of the final charge at the Battle of Gettysburg. “Mark is someone you might assume would be most interested in recent events, but he is casting his eye further back,” says Hirshhorn director Melissa Chiu. “There may be connections between now and then, but we won’t see them until the work is unveiled.”
That Bradford’s career milestones should come at a time of national anxiety only adds to their poignancy. “Everyone agrees this is a moment of political crisis,” says Siegel. “Where there is disagreement is whether this is a new level. Some voices are saying things have been bad for a long time.” Bradford, if perhaps inclined to agree with them, also sees hope. “There’s a collective vulnerability right now,” he says. “We need to voice it. That can bring us together.”
