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    Lorna Simpson: Painting as a Weapon of Freedom

    In a small but haunting survey at the Met, a celebrated conceptual artist shifts gears, with meteoric results.Some of our most interesting artists have one thing in common. They do outstanding work early on, then, rather than coasting by recycling that success, they complicate it, even change gears.The artist Lorna Simpson is one these restless souls, and she has the technical and imaginative chops to make major changes work, as is evident in a corner-turning retrospective of paintings, “Source Notes,” now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.In the late 1980s and 1990s, Simpson gained a strong reputation as a standout among a new generation of conceptual photographers and artists who — following “Pictures Generation” progenitors like Cindy Sherman a decade earlier — used photographic techniques somewhat the way painters used paint. Through a traditionally point-and-shoot, ostensibly reality-capturing medium, they created entirely fictional images.Simpson began as a straight-up picture-taker. A native New Yorker — born in Brooklyn in 1960, and raised in Queens — she studied photography at the School of Visual Arts and initially identified her work with the genre of “street photography.” Graduate school at the University of California, San Diego, where Conceptualism was the reigning mode, added a new dimension to that early impulse. So was the perception that her career opportunities in the field were limited: “Being a Black woman photographer was like being nobody,” as she has put it. So she saw no reason not to experiment both with her medium and with the subjects that interested her, namely the politics of gender and race.To that end she developed a studio-based style that combined staged images, notably shots of unnamed Black women posing in plain white shifts against a neutral backdrop, their faces turned away from the camera or out of its range, with results that evoke voyeuristic 19th-century ethnological documents, mug shots, and performance art stills. Most of these images have incorporated short texts that hint at explanatory narratives, some violent, without actually providing anything explicit.Detail of “5 Properties,” 2018. Ebony and Jet magazines, poly sleeves, bronze, plaster, glass.Dana Golan for The New York TimesCreating on aura of mystery has been her generative M.O., one she has applied to film and installation work as well as to still photography. What has changed in the past decade is her primary medium. Around 2014, she began, for the first time since her pre-art-school years, to focus on painting, and the Met exhibition is a tight but monumental survey of this new work.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Rosana Paulino, a Brazilian Artist Who Wields Poetry and Persistence

    Rosana Paulino, one of Brazil’s most influential artists, works from a narrow three-story house in Pirituba, a neighborhood of simple homes and shops that huddle along the hillside in the northwest outskirts of São Paulo. Her small balcony looks toward a pocket park, a railway line and a nature preserve on a ridge that belies the urban sprawl beyond.The daughter of a cleaner and a house painter, Paulino has pushed her way with stubborn insistence from modest origins in the Black working class into Brazil’s top institutions — at one time working clerical jobs for three years to pay for prep classes to get into the best universities. But she remains rooted in São Paulo’s north-side neighborhoods, where Black culture formed around the rail yards and the warehouses where laborers transferred coffee and other crops before shipping them abroad.“Espada de Iansã,” watercolor and graphite on paper, from the Senhora das Plantas series. Paulino’s female figures seem to merge with Brazilian plants that carry ecological or spiritual symbolism.Gabriela Portilho for The New York Times“It’s very important for me to stay here,” Paulino, 58, said, on a muggy afternoon in April, as a tropical rainstorm gathered. “It’s that old story — you start to have a name and money and so you move out of your community. No, no, no. That’s absolutely not for me.”She emerged as an artist when bourgeois tastes and Modernism dominated the museums and schools, making little space for the work and perspectives of artists from Brazil’s Black majority.Lately the climate has changed. A survey at the prestigious Pinacoteca de São Paulo museum in 2018 and participation in the 2023 São Paulo Biennial cemented Paulino’s hometown recognition; her inclusion in the 2022 Venice Biennale, with some two dozen large-scale drawings of part-human, part-plant female figures, brought visibility abroad.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    $105 Million Reparations Package for Tulsa Race Massacre Unveiled by Mayor

    The plan, the first large-scale attempt to address the impact of the 1921 atrocity, will raise private funds for housing assistance, scholarships and economic development.The Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, one of the most horrific episodes of racial violence in U.S. history, killed up to 300 Black residents and destroyed a neighborhood. More than a century later, the city’s mayor announced a $105 million reparations package on Sunday, the first large-scale plan committing funds to address the impact of the atrocity.Monroe Nichols, the first Black mayor of Tulsa, unveiled the sweeping project, named Road to Repair. It is intended to chip away at enduring disparities caused by the massacre and its aftermath in the Greenwood neighborhood and the wider North Tulsa community in Tulsa, Okla.The centerpiece of the project is the creation of the Greenwood Trust, a private charitable trust, with the goal of securing $105 million in assets — including private contributions, property transfers and possible public funding — by next spring, the 105th anniversary of the attack.The plan does not include direct cash payments to the two last known survivors of the massacre, who are 110 and 111 years old. But such payments could be considered by the trust’s Board of Trustees, according to Michelle Brooks, a city spokeswoman.Mr. Nichols said a plan to restore Greenwood — a neighborhood that was so prosperous before the attack that it inspired the name Black Wall Street — was long overdue.“One hundred and four years is far too long for us to not address the harm of the massacre,” Mr. Nichols said in an interview before the announcement. He added that the effort was really about “what has been taken from a people, and how do we restore that as best we can in 2025, proving we’re much different than we were in 1921.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Skulls of 19 Black Americans Return to New Orleans After 150 Years in Germany

    The remains, used in the 19th century as part of now discredited racial science, are being laid to rest on Saturday in a traditional jazz funeral.Sometime before Jan. 10, 1872, a young Black laborer named William Roberts checked himself into Charity Hospital in New Orleans. Just 23 years old, he was from Georgia and had a strong build, according to hospital records. His only recorded sickness was diarrhea.He was one of 19 Black patients who died at the hospital in December 1871 and January 1872, and whose skulls were sent to Germany to be studied by a doctor researching a now wholly discredited science that purported a correlation between the shape and size of a skull and a person’s intellect and character.The skulls languished in Germany for about 150 years until Leipzig University contacted the city of New Orleans two years ago to repatriate them.They were returned to New Orleans this month, and on Saturday morning those 19 people who died in the 1800s are being honored with a jazz funeral before their skulls are interred.A staff member at Rhodes Funeral Home removes the remains of one person from the shipping crate that arrived from Germany.Jacob Cochran/Dillard UniversityWhile the return of human remains from museum collections has become more common, the repatriation of these 19 Black cranial remains to New Orleans is believed to be the first major international restitution of the remains of Black Americans from Europe, according to Paul Wolff Mitchell, a researcher at the University of Amsterdam who studies the 19th century history of race and science in the United States and Europe.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Trump Casts Himself as a Protector of Persecuted White People

    President Trump publicly dressed down the president of South Africa based on a fringe conspiracy theory, providing a vivid distillation of his views on race.In the Oval Office on Wednesday, President Trump positioned himself as the savior of white South Africans.Sitting alongside Cyril Ramaphosa, the president of South Africa, Mr. Trump said white people were “being executed.” He referred over and over again to “dead white people.” He dressed down Mr. Ramaphosa, who helped his country cast off the racist policies of apartheid, and questioned why he was not doing more when white people were being killed.“I don’t know how you explain that,” Mr. Trump said. “How do you explain that?”The American president was not much interested in the answer, which is that police statistics do not show that white people are more vulnerable to violent crime than other people in South Africa.The confrontation provided a vivid demonstration of Mr. Trump’s views on race, which have animated his political life going back years. After rising to power in part by framing himself as a protector of white America, Mr. Trump has used his platform, in this case the Oval Office, to elevate claims of white grievance.For Mr. Trump, white people are the true victims; Black people and minorities have received an unfair advantage in the United States. And when Mr. Trump looks to South Africa, a majority-Black country emerging from a legacy of apartheid and colonialism, he sees white people who need sanctuary in the United States.Invoking the teachings of his old mentor, Nelson Mandela, Mr. Ramaphosa pleaded for civility in the dialogue between the two leaders.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    The Future of Black History Lives on Donald Trump’s Front Lawn

    I don’t know why I was surprised when President Trump went after the Smithsonian Institution, in particular the National Museum of African American History and Culture — or as it’s more informally known, the Black Smithsonian. If anything, I should have been surprised he held off for two months. On March 27, he issued “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History,” an executive order that accused the Smithsonian Institution of having “come under the influence of a divisive, race-centered ideology.” He called out the Black Smithsonian in particular for being subject “to ideological indoctrination or divisive narratives that distort our shared history.” The federal government, he declared, will no longer support historical projects that “degrade shared American values” or “divide Americans based on race.”I think Mr. Trump’s presidency is a national tragedy. But a stopped clock is right twice a day, and I have some sympathy for the concerns he raised about the agenda of much historical thinking these days. Too often it indulges in sloppy and even childish stereotypes, depicting America’s past as one extended hit job.The boldness of the American experiment, the emergence of the Constitution, the evolution of public schooling, the expansion of the right to vote, the rise of the conservationism and the flourishing of our diverse cultural life — reducing all of this to the machinations of a sinister white cabal is, like the 1980s power ballad, seductive but vapid. That white lady at the supermarket with her 6-year-old daughter has organized her life around defending her privilege? I’m not seeing it.President Trump visited the National Museum of African American History in 2017.Doug Mills/The New York TimesI shudder at suggestions that — as a graphic on the Black Smithsonian’s own website put it a few years ago — “objective, rational, linear thinking,” “quantitative emphasis” and “decision-making” are the purview of white culture. I despise equally the idea that Black people are communal, oral, “I’ll get to that tomorrow” sorts who like to circle around the answer rather than actually arrive at it.And I am especially dismayed at how this version of history implies that the most interesting thing about the experience of Black Americans has been their encounter with whiteness. I figured that the president was being typically hyperbolic when he said that institutions like the museum deepen “societal divides and fosters a sense of national shame, disregarding the progress America has made and the ideals that continue to inspire millions around the globe” — I mean, even something as stupid as that guide to whiteness might just be an outlying mistake. But I was wary that a national museum might squander its chance to illuminate complex topics and expand people’s curiosity, instead trying to corral everyone into caricatures and oversimplifications. As I read the executive order, however, it occurred to me that after all these years, I had yet to actually visit the museum. So, on a sunny Friday afternoon, I decided to zip over to the National Mall to take a look. I will not soon forget what I saw.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Koyo Kouoh, Prominent Art World Figure, Is Dead at 57

    She had recently been named to oversee next year’s Venice Biennale. She died just days before she was scheduled to announce its theme and title.Koyo Kouoh in 2023. As the curator and executive director of Zeitz MOCAA, one of Africa’s largest contemporary art museums, she had built a global reputation as a torchbearer for artists of color.Tsele Nthane for The New York TimesKoyo Kouoh, one of the global art world’s most prominent figures, who had been slated to become the first African woman to curate the Venice Biennale, died on Saturday in Switzerland. She was 57.Her death was confirmed by the biennale’s organizers. The announcement did not cite a cause or say where in Switzerland she had died.The biennale said that Ms. Kouoh’s “sudden and untimely” death came just days before she was scheduled to announce the title and theme of next year’s event. The statement added that her death “leaves an immense void in the world of contemporary art.”The Venice Biennale is arguably the art world’s most important event. Staged every two years since 1895, it always includes a large-scale group show, organized by the curator, alongside dozens of national pavilions, organized independently.A spokeswoman for the biennale did not immediately respond to a request for comment on what Ms. Kouoh’s death would mean for next year’s exhibition, which is scheduled to run from May 9 through Nov. 22.As the curator and executive director of Zeitz MOCAA, one of Africa’s largest contemporary art museums, Ms. Kouoh built a global reputation as a torchbearer for artists of color from Africa and elsewhere, although her interests were global in reach. “I’m an international curator,” she said last December in an interview with the The New York Times.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Pope Leo XIV’s Creole Roots Tell a Story of New Orleans

    “This is like a reward from God,” a local parishioner said, as researchers unearthed more details about the lives of Leo XIV’s ancestors in the heart of the city’s Afro-Caribbean culture.One day in June 1900, a census taker visited the New Orleans home of Joseph and Louise Martinez, Pope Leo XIV’s grandparents. They lived on North Prieur Street, just north of the French Quarter, a neighborhood considered the cradle of Louisiana’s Creole people of color.Joseph N. Martinez was recorded as a Black man, born in “Hayti.” His wife, two daughters and an aunt, were also marked “B” in a column denoting “color or race.”Ten years later, the census came knocking again. The family had grown — there were six daughters now. Other things changed, too: Mr. Martinez’s place of birth was listed this time as Santo Domingo, capital of the Dominican Republic. And the family’s race is recorded as “W,” for white.That simple switch, from “B” to “W,” suggests a complex, and very American, story.For much of the 19th century, New Orleans operated under a racial system that distinguished among white people, Black people and mixed-race Creole people like the Martinezes. But by the early 20th century, Jim Crow was the order of the day, and it tended to deal in black and white, with myriad restrictions imposed upon any person of color.The pope’s mother, Mildred Prevost, with her sons, left to right, Robert, John and Louis, outside Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago.via John Joseph PrevostThe selection of Robert Frances Prevost as the first pope from the United States, and the subsequent revelation of his Creole roots, have brought those historical realities to the fore — and an interview with the pope’s brother John Prevost, 71, connected them to the present day. More