Mark Bradford’s work is very different from that of other artists. A lot of his work has social commentary to it.
“Scorched Earth” is an interpretive map of Greenwood, a once-thriving area of Tulsa Oklahoma known as “Negro Wall Street,” which was obliterated by a race riot in 1921.
Sheer coincidence brought the events to Bradford’s attention: he was working at his mother’s hair salon when a client suggested he make some art about the event. He was shocked when he started doing research, and dismayed when he hadn’t heard of this tragic story before. Joanne Heyler.
Mark Bradford’s art tends to use very humble materials. And this partly emerges from his earliest days, when quite frankly, he simply couldn't afford paints and the more standard materials that artists use.
Artist Mark Bradford, recorded at The Broad’s UnPrivate Collection series talk.
For me economics instantly comes into play. It’s very difficult if you don’t have a lot of money when you’re getting started to be really really experimental with lots and lots of art paint because it’s just too expensive. It’s a precious medium. Early early on I started using these end papers that came from a hair salon. I could experiment with them because they were $.50 a box. And so this idea of rapid speed and working out ideas through the material I could afford to. So the idea of speed and actually economically what you have access to I think also plays into it.
Here, the end papers create city blocks, the footprints of buildings, and land mass. The pasted-on, scraped away layers form a topography that represents the psychological and physical ruins of a place.
I think art that sends a message, that reflects what’s happening in the world, in our society, is very important. A great work of art is not something that is just pretty or beautiful, it’s something that evokes emotion.
The layers in Scorched Earth create a topography that represents the deep psychological and physical ruins of a disappeared people and another time and place. In this work, Mark Bradford depicts an aerial map of an area that has been blacked out. The blackness of this land mass resonates on many levels: black as in the demographics of this neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma, at one time called “Negro Wall Street,” where many black-owned businesses thrived, until a race riot erupted in 1921 and the violence obliterated this unique area and its history; black, as the title suggests, meaning burnt or scorched; black as in redacted; and black as in nothingness.
Mark Bradford engages the discarded materials of urban life, often remnants of informal economic systems that arise out of necessity in the inner city. Bradford grew up in Los Angeles, the son of a family of hairdressers. From early on, he used the materials found around salons, including the paper rectangles used for permanents, bobby pins, and hair dyes. Over time, his art making grew to include video, installation, and photographs alongside his continued interest in printmaking and collage. Bradford describes his work: “Think about all the white noise out there in the streets: all the beepers and blaring culture—cell phones, amps, chromed-out wheels, and synthesizers. I pick up a lot of that energy in my work, from the posters, which act as memory of things pasted and things past. You can peel away the layers of papers and it’s like reading the streets through signs.”
In (Untitled) a.k.a. Gwen, 2005–6, Bradford develops a nuanced grid, recalling the energetic and often frenzied topology of a city map. Instead of delicate pencil work or precision painting of a formal modernist grid, the work is made from beauty salon tissue paper, handbills, and advertisements for jobs, lawyers, and other services posted in the neighborhoods around Bradford’s studio in South Central Los Angeles. While applying these materials, Bradford physically interacts with the work—sanding, tearing, bleaching, and weathering the surface. Bradford’s ephemeral materials not only come to wear the grit of outdoor signs and billboards but also reveal their temporary condition as objects that change according to the needs of those who employ them. In describing his practice, Bradford has quoted from Michel Laguerre’s The Informal City: “The informal arena provides a hidden space where one can stand to read the city as a social laboratory of everyday practice.”