When someone says “artist,” you might envision someone working hard in a studio, preparing to exhibit their next masterpiece. Or maybe you imagine a work of art such as a statue or a painting. But does the word “artist” bring to mind a shooting range? Well, that’s where artist Tiona Nekkia McClodden found herself on a scorching Monday in July. She shoots here, in Philadelphia, every week, excluding weekends, when the range is crowded with too many men, igniting sensory overload for McClodden.
The 41-year-old, whose work is currently on display in three major exhibitions in New York City – at 52 Walker, the Shed, and the Museum of Modern Art – didn’t purchase her guns and her gun license for her art. Well, not at first.
At first, in view of the pandemic and then the George Floyd protests, McClodden’s priorities were safety and self-defense.
According to the New York Times, “The staff at the range greeted her warmly — she trained here, earning her membership. She bought ammunition and paper targets with pink silhouettes or multiple oval bull’s-eyes. At her lane, she took out her three handguns — a Walther .22 with a Glock and Smith & Wesson, both 9-millimeters — and placed them before her, with care.”
An hour later, McClodden was on her way to her studio, after finishing her target practice with a draw—a pause—after each shot, reminding her of the human stakes and the lives involved. “There’s life there,” she said.
Art wasn’t what she had intended, but it sprouted from her decision to purchase guns and learn to shoot them, anyway. “Mask/Conceal/Carry,” an extensive exhibition at 52 Walker, is the result.
The exhibition includes everything the artist has done, even videos she made when she was a filmmaker. In addition, the show includes McClodden’s sculptures, bronzes, texts, and her first painting series. All of the artworks share an expressive theme: “An artist’s journey through shooting to confront herself and establish her position in the world — in all the facets of her identity.”
The show at 52 Walker is one of McClodden’s three installations in Manhattan. The other two are a tribute to Brad Johnson, a Black gay poet who died in 2011, at the MoMA, and a presentation on the history of Black dance, located at the Shed.
“This is all a practice in not being ignorant,” McClodden said. “Period.”
One of the many elements that help give “Mask/Conceal/Carry” more depth is McClodden’s experience with autism. According to McClodden, back in 2001, a doctor had suggested that she was on the autism spectrum, but she denied that this was true. Almost two decades later, in 2019, the artist received an official diagnosis, and she still continues to “embrace its insights.”
When she first started learning to shoot, the noise was overwhelming, overstimulating her senses, causing her to be unable to “get the sound off my skin.”
To prepare herself, the artist attempted dry firing, where she shot without ammunition in her studio. An app on McClodden’s phone helped her track and measure data from her shooting sessions, inspiring her to add the resulting graphs to her work. They have black backgrounds with a few squiggles outlined in blue, green, white, or red segments, lightening up the data report with paints. “I can feel in my body everything that I see here,” she said, according to the New York Times.
While searching online for shooting targets, McClodden uncovered a whole world of staged scenes in photographs. From shooters lurking behind cars to hostages held at gunpoint, these photos are usually used in law-enforcement training.
“I’m not interested in articulating or taking on grief for the larger society, as a Black woman,” she said. “I’m telling you how I sleep well at night. This is the regimen that I took to know of this time.”
Sources: https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/04/arts/design/tiona-mcclodden.html
The 41-year-old, whose work is currently on display in three major exhibitions in New York City – at 52 Walker, the Shed, and the Museum of Modern Art – didn’t purchase her guns and her gun license for her art. Well, not at first.
At first, in view of the pandemic and then the George Floyd protests, McClodden’s priorities were safety and self-defense.
According to the New York Times, “The staff at the range greeted her warmly — she trained here, earning her membership. She bought ammunition and paper targets with pink silhouettes or multiple oval bull’s-eyes. At her lane, she took out her three handguns — a Walther .22 with a Glock and Smith & Wesson, both 9-millimeters — and placed them before her, with care.”
An hour later, McClodden was on her way to her studio, after finishing her target practice with a draw—a pause—after each shot, reminding her of the human stakes and the lives involved. “There’s life there,” she said.
Art wasn’t what she had intended, but it sprouted from her decision to purchase guns and learn to shoot them, anyway. “Mask/Conceal/Carry,” an extensive exhibition at 52 Walker, is the result.
The exhibition includes everything the artist has done, even videos she made when she was a filmmaker. In addition, the show includes McClodden’s sculptures, bronzes, texts, and her first painting series. All of the artworks share an expressive theme: “An artist’s journey through shooting to confront herself and establish her position in the world — in all the facets of her identity.”
The show at 52 Walker is one of McClodden’s three installations in Manhattan. The other two are a tribute to Brad Johnson, a Black gay poet who died in 2011, at the MoMA, and a presentation on the history of Black dance, located at the Shed.
“This is all a practice in not being ignorant,” McClodden said. “Period.”
One of the many elements that help give “Mask/Conceal/Carry” more depth is McClodden’s experience with autism. According to McClodden, back in 2001, a doctor had suggested that she was on the autism spectrum, but she denied that this was true. Almost two decades later, in 2019, the artist received an official diagnosis, and she still continues to “embrace its insights.”
When she first started learning to shoot, the noise was overwhelming, overstimulating her senses, causing her to be unable to “get the sound off my skin.”
To prepare herself, the artist attempted dry firing, where she shot without ammunition in her studio. An app on McClodden’s phone helped her track and measure data from her shooting sessions, inspiring her to add the resulting graphs to her work. They have black backgrounds with a few squiggles outlined in blue, green, white, or red segments, lightening up the data report with paints. “I can feel in my body everything that I see here,” she said, according to the New York Times.
While searching online for shooting targets, McClodden uncovered a whole world of staged scenes in photographs. From shooters lurking behind cars to hostages held at gunpoint, these photos are usually used in law-enforcement training.
“I’m not interested in articulating or taking on grief for the larger society, as a Black woman,” she said. “I’m telling you how I sleep well at night. This is the regimen that I took to know of this time.”
Sources: https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/04/arts/design/tiona-mcclodden.html
