No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #16, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Working with materials dating back to the 19th century, artist Alayna Pernell digs into institutional archives to examine how Black identity is often erased, and how care extends to both images and individuals.
An MFA candidate at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Pernell’s research-based project began at home. Her family maintains a visual archive - everything from stately studio portraits to candid snapshots of life’s milestone moments - that reaches back to the 19th century. Such photographic continuity encapsulates a desire for familial and community connections that, for far too many Black Americans, was interrupted by the horrors that unfolded during Reconstruction and after.
Quoted in a 2019 smithsonianmag.org piece, author Laura Coyle elegantly sums it up: “For the African American community, photography was particularly important, because when they were in control of the camera, they had a chance to shape their own image for themselves, for their community and for the outside world in a way they normally didn’t have a chance to do in society.”
Our Mothers’ Gardens addresses representation and erasure within an institutional context. Pernell’s search for photographs of Black women in collections held by the Art Institute of Chicago and Museum of Contemporary Photography reveals the terms under which such images were collected, and how frequently the images do not include sitters’ basic identifying information.
Pernell cannot correct that shameful, all-too-familiar erasure. But, physical intervention – the way her hands frame and shield the figures – reads as a protective and loving gesture for those unnamed ancestors.
I contacted Alayna after seeing her shared via @saicphotography as she was awarded the 2020-2021 James Weinstein Memorial Fellowship. Read on to learn more about looking at her family archives, and how that influences notions of photographic representation and care for Black women.
Roula Seikaly in conversation with Alayna Pernell
With Care to You #2, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Roula Seikaly: Our Mothers' Garden stems from your exploration of family photos. Could you describe the kind of images you found? Are they formal studio portraits, snapshots, some combination of all of the above? And do you know who started your family archive?
Alayna Pernell: So the images were a combination... Most of them were more snapshots, whether it was from a Polaroid camera or some type of film camera, which was most likely 35mm. And there were also a lot of formal pictures, whether it's family pictures or school pictures, prom, whatever it is, 'cause my family is really huge on celebrating events. So whether that was school-related or... Just like a birthday or anything. So everything is well-documented, and as far as who started it, it's really hard to tell because from the earliest dated pictures were images that would have been my grandmother's parents or her grandparents that have been passed down to her and then just family members adding on to those, adding on to the albums and the buckets over time.
And even some of the images, which is really interesting, and I don't know if that's even done anymore, but were images that were given from other families, like if someone took pictures of their kids and they would make extra copies of them and would give an extra image to our family. So their children and other adults and people, some of them I don't know at all, and some of them I'm like, "Oh, that's what they looked like when they were my age," which is interesting.
With Care to Ms. Maudelle Bass Weston, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Do you get the sense that people who gave your family members these photos, that they looked at your family members as collectors or keepers of visual information or important data?
Pernell: I do, and I also see it as... I feel like it's a level of just importance, I feel like, 'cause they are pictures that are given mainly to my grandmother that we just all look at and share in their moments, but as her being someone that's important to share this moment with, like if someone had a baby, then she has baby pictures of children that are probably a little bit older than me now or adults or those children having children. Yeah, I definitely see it as that. And she still collects or is still given images and pictures from even outside family members to this day.
Seikaly: It's fascinating that people in your wider friend and family community know this about your family, that there is a place where those moments can be archived, and knowing that you'll look after them. There's a caretaker aspect to it, which is really lovely and deeply humane. Does that shape how you think about photography? And you as a maker, do you consider yourself a collector of these moments as well?
Pernell: Not to that degree. I feel like as far as... Definitely, the aspect of care in the images and image-making, I definitely have that part. But as far as collecting memories, I feel like I put myself in the role of making them and then just hoarding them and keeping them to myself because I'm so protective over my things. And so I would like to... I don't know, I think... Yeah, I don't consider myself someone who's a collector of everyone else's memories to that extent as far as the way my grandmother's is, but on the end of looking at... I think art history and this visual art world, for sure. But I think family photos that are more personal to me, I definitely keep them and share them when I feel led or compelled.
No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #28, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: For Our Mothers' Garden, how do you select the photos that you use? Is there a specific criteria that you use, or is the selection more intuitive?
Pernell: I did... There was a criteria for it. So... First, I looked at who was the creator of the image, and just... If the creator of the image was non-Black, then I would look into their background, their intentions, why they photographed the image, and go from there. And then for the earlier images that I photographed with the daguerreotypes, some of them are untitled, but knowing the history behind those specific kinds of daguerreotypes helped me to pinpoint like, "This can also fit in the set as well."
And with the vernacular images or the snapshots, that collector, which is Peter J. Cohen, his name was brought to me by someone that I'd talked to at the MoCP, and that's how I got into that loophole. And I'm still going through that 'cause there are so many images. So yeah, definitely, I think the top two criteria was looking at the photographer and their intentions and just the general sense of what was going on historically around the time that they were taken.
No Longer Peter Cohen_s Property #6, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: I'm not familiar with the Cohen archive, and I'm guessing that some of our readers may not know of it either. What do you know about the archive and how it was assembled?
Pernell: Yeah, so Peter J. Cohen, is a collector of vernacular snapshot images that he finds and collects, and it is more of a hobby for him. And the images are... A lot of them are very exploitative of nude women, whether they're white or Black or whatever their nationality is, just a collection of them. Some of them are family memories or vacation images. Most of them or pretty much almost all of them, he has no connection to the people in the images, it is just, again, his hobby.
He collected somewhere over 60,000 or so images over a span of years, and he donated them to different institutions including the Art Institute of Chicago and MoMA. And they have the images in their collections. And here at the Art Institute, there's over 900 images of his that they have in their collection.
I think I found it important to go through those images and see what images of Black women that there were, because I was just thinking of just, again, the images that I went through with my grandmother during the summer, and how precious those were and really not liking the idea of these images being institutionally held and not being cared for or being reflected on by their own families and friends, like the way I did with my grandmother's images.
Yeah, so that's definitely a collection that I find problematic, and I'm still going through the images and really sifting out my disdain with it.
No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #13, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Let's get back to Our Mothers' Garden. In the project statement, you wrote "I'm very attached to the language of the archive." What does that mean?
Pernell: So, for me it means... I'm trying to find the best way to put that.
I really feel like my attachment really came heavily last summer when I first initially started it, and just even remembering flipping through them or having conversations with them, with my grandmother and my mom going through them, and just that warm feeling that I got from even looking at them and being able to touch them and hold them and talk about people that have probably passed away that I didn't get a chance to meet or people who have grown up, or cousins and family that I do know that are still living.
And so being attached to that language, I really feel like it's also me being attached to the feeling and especially of what it represents and being very drawn to how beautiful it is when Black families are able to have control of their own lives and take all of these photographs to build their own narrative of what Black families look like and what Black families do that is different than what is usually presented. Whether in media and especially in history books that I had growing up, it's usually shown as this one monolith, and it's so different across the board for every Black family.
Seikaly: When I first saw the work highlighted on SAIC's Instagram feed, I was stopped by how lovingly you handle the objects themselves. I'm guessing it's your hands in the photographs, is that correct?
Pernell: Yes.
With Care to You #1, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Okay, so it's a few things. There's this aspect of connection where you are embracing an older generation, if not literally embracing that person and in that action, the generational time span is shrunk or completely destroyed, which is really lovely. It's one of the things that photography does well, shrink that time between people and maybe in some ways helps foster a connection that temporally otherwise might not or could not exist.
Also, you're handling institutional objects, and not wearing the recommended white gloves. Was that something that you considered?
Pernell: I guess, but... So with, of course, with shutdowns and everything, I wasn't able to interact with them in person. So I've had to re-print them out and just reading the dimensions and getting them to size, and I treated them as if they were the actual objects, and I was thinking about it in that way, but also because with the people and the images, I felt really compelled to still care for it anyway, but yeah, there's so many layers of care that go into that because in no way would I want to even ruin the re-printed images that I've printed out either.
No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #30, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Absolutely, and that wasn't to suggest that they are more valuable because they're institutionally held. I asked because there is this expectation that in doing archival or research-based work such as you're doing. It’s not the most important factor, but it is a factor. Do you know what I mean?
Pernell: Right.
Seikaly: Thanks for letting me clarify that. The word "care" is so active in this project. What does that bring to mind for you in relation to the photographs you're looking at and interacting with, the people that you're looking at, your own family archive?
Pernell: So for me, care is... And I feel like I always say this, but it definitely takes me back to family and it takes me to friends and especially the Black women in my life, that's what it takes me to which is why the work itself is heavily focused on Black women, 'cause a lot of times Black women's narratives and their stories are erased, especially historically, and I feel like it's not, oftentimes, pointed to enough even today.
And so yeah, care for me is care of, seeing it as care of being my own family or even being myself, because even though the women in my images are not related to me or I'm not related to them, as far as I know, I still treat them as if they were my family, because I just have a really deep sense of care and love for Black women, period.
No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #24, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: What are your thoughts now on how institutions build their archives? Has this project and research of the Cohen collection and similar gifts influenced your thinking on archives and collection management as they relate to care?
Pernell: Yes, a lot. And probably in... Or not probably, but definitely in a more critical way because my... Even going into the research and trying to find the women's names, like know their backstories and just everything that went into, not only creating each image, but getting a deeper understanding of each image.
Although that... Or one of the questions in the back of my head throughout was if the institutions know who these women are? Does the institution know their stories, or is it just collected because of what kind of image it is? Is it just collected because this is a daguerreotype or because it was created in this special way or because it was created this long ago?
Seikaly: Yeah.
Pernell: And for me, I feel like if it is more pointed towards it being just for having it in there as like a, not really a staple, but kind of like as a token in the collection, then I do find problems with that, and in a way that I don't think that I had those ideas before, but I for sure think of it more critically now.
No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #26, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Yeah, absolutely. One of the questions you pose in the Our Mothers' Garden project statement is what can visual art tell us about the depiction of Black women through art history? Has your work on this project so far given you insight?
Pernell: So I feel like I mainly just have an idea in my head every time I'm going through it that Black women, especially in art history and even in our world, in general, are just not cared about enough, whether that's physical, mental, in any way, just not cared enough, and even thinking of it on the physical side, a lot of images in the collections, especially for a few of the ones in my work that are daguerreotypes, they are sitting in there pretty much... I'm sure that it's not literal dust... If it is, then I don't really know, but...
Seikaly: That's a problem, yeah.
Pernell: They're just sitting there, and they're not being talked about, and their stories are not being told, especially if they're stories that are rooted in violence, and calling that out, but I don't know if I will ever have a true answer for the question that I've even asked myself, but just I feel like my idea about it will change continuously over time.
With Care to Ms. Maudelle Bass Weston #2, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Absolutely. Do you see this as a long-term engagement for you? Are you treating this as your thesis work?
Pernell: Yes, it is my primary thesis work for now, but I am working on stuff alongside it. And so, yes, I do see this definitely as more long-term, and even aside from Our Mothers' Gardens, I'm finishing up things that I started five, six years ago. So, yes, I really don't have a time limit as far as when I'll finish it.
Seikaly: I wonder about the psychological toll that this might take on someone, which folds into the next question: what does self-care include as you're working through this, and how do you nurture yourself through all of this?
Pernell: So that was actually an issue that I had with a previous body of work when I created Chagrin Melodies, where I was just photographing really mundane moments where Black people were harmed in an instance, and I completely stopped the work and said, "This is done, and I can't do it anymore."
But, with Our Mothers' Gardens, I've definitely made sure to find ways to take care of myself throughout it. So I am actively in therapy, and I, fortunately, have a great community of people... Of course, they're not here with me physically, but that I can talk to about my feelings and concerns with my work and even with the images. I've actually re-photographed them as a family portrait, but with the image and me holding it, which I consider to be a part of the work, too.
I feel like something that I needed to do, for no further connection, but just being reminded of having a family portrait with someone that I care about, and I feel like throughout this work. I have such a level of protection around them, even though they're all passed, and I don't know them, and they don't know me, but yeah, self-care, definitely. And just really great music.
No Longer Peter Cohen’s Property #1, 2020 © Alayna Pernell
Seikaly: Has working on Our Mothers' Gardens adjusted how you think about earlier projects that you produced, or parallel projects?
Pernell: It definitely has. And at first, I was like, this feels like a really different shift in my work, is this gonna... Looking at the past ones, I was like, "How does this fit in?" But I was working on just some writing for my other work that I'm coming to sort of an endpoint with, and if there's one thing that it really pinned down for me, especially with Our Mothers' Gardens, was the importance of Black women's personal stories and how that can impact history, especially in the future, and when Black people look back at it, and not having that, it can sometimes create a gray area where either the narrative can be...
It can be enlightening, or the narrative can be demeaning, and I've always considered myself like an autobiographical storyteller. So, I think definitely it invoked more vulnerability and transparency with me in my other work that I'm finishing up, which is still untitled to this day, but... Yeah, definitely the importance of storytelling and personal narrative.
Seikaly: How does it feel for you commune with the images, embracing them as your hands or fingers wrap around the figures? Does it activate feelings or thoughts for you?
Pernell: For me, it feels empowering, not only for, or not even thinking of empowering for myself, but being able to interact with these women who were at the time that the images were taken, were not being empowered at all. And so there's definitely this deep connection to the work that I have when I am touching the image, but also being sure not to cover their faces in any way.
And there are little ways that I found myself trying to connect further with the images, whether it's by if their hands were just crossed over in their lap or in some way just with my hand covering it, seeing if my thumb was on their hand, so just little slight hand gesture movements that just extend extra care.