Stepping into the “Persist! Movement and Protest Art” exhibit at North Seattle College feels like entering a time warp. The bulk of the pieces were made in the not-so-long-ago time period of 2016 to 2020, when life took many unexpected turns. A deeply polarizing president got elected, then a virus separated people all around the world. Somehow, though, a large segment of the population joined together, even during the pandemic, to march and protest.
In the college art center, hundreds of posters crowd the walls to make up a swirl of earnest messages competing for attention. Many causes are represented and loosely grouped together in different categories: “Racism is the Pandemic,” “The Wrong Ice is Melting,” “Support Women,” “Standing Rock.” I felt an urge to put on a hand-sewn mask and apply hand sanitizer.
Protest art takes many forms. Straightforward messages, without pictures, are unambiguous and easily readable by viewers. Early suffragette signs plainly stated “Votes for Women.” Some descendants of these signs at the Persist! show are a screenprint by Claire Jauregui, with only the words “Ban Semi Automatic Weapons Now!” on a white background, and K.C. Potter de Haan’s “Vote for Gun Control.”
Some of the art utilizes both words and pictures in a clever but still uncomplicated way. “Eclipse Capitalism 1,” by Roger Peet, is a decorative image that gets a message across. The words are shown in dark letters on the light side of the sun and light on the dark side; a bird flies beneath. “Abolish the Prison Industrial Complex” depicts a milk carton with a shadowy faceless person under the word “Missing” (from their family, friends and community).
Other pieces in the show give viewers a wealth of ideas to think about and details to look at. Gilda Posada’s slyly humorous digital print encloses a flower-surrounded uterus with the words “Resisting Colonizer Laws Since 1492.” Two large canvases by Norma Baum resemble tarot cards, dense with symbolism; in “The Tower,” a large structure is split by lightning, bodies fall and a flaming swastika stabs into a slumped figure’s back, as dollars flutter down from the tower.
Four digital prints by Piotr Szyhalski take a subtle and mysterious approach. Identified as COVID-19 reports, they are dated from August to October 2020. One resembles an idyllic postcard with a mountain, moon, flowers and a sailboat. “Greetings from Anarchist Jurisdiction!” it announces breezily. A bird, appearing to disembowel something, features in “Seek Truth from Facts.” “The Difference Between Looking and Seeing” has a decorative and harmonious flower-patterned background. “The Future Remains Unwritten” is a triptych, depicting an airplane making a contrail, a tiny person leaving footprints in an expanse of snow and a hand tracing a line. COVID-19, though now only on a low simmer in the background for many people, continues to be an issue confusing and dividing us.
Quotes from famous authors and activists are also popular for protest art. The words of Ta-Nehisi Coates, John Lewis and Malcolm X are represented on posters. The best quotations aren’t tied to a particular cause or time period. For example, bell hooks’ statement “Without justice there can be no love” seems to respond to racism, sexism or child abuse. I paused in front of a poster using a Zora Neale Hurston quote: “There are years that ask questions, and years that answer.” I wonder which kind of year we’re in now? Will we only know decades from now, when we finally decide to look back?
Like the quotation posters, much protest art conveys broad ideas that can be used for numerous causes. Katie Pane’s “Empathy” has four simple faces drawn in black and white. “Enough is Enough!” works for any injustices that have continued for too long. Claire Jauregui’s letterpress postcards use plant themes that give positive messages like “Sow the Seeds of Change” and “Keep Growing.”
The exhibit has a small group of Black Lives Matter and MLK-themed signs attached to wooden sticks: hand-drawn portraits of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Elijah McClain, who is shown playing a violin for an audience of cats. They made me think of the cardboard signs at my own home, taped to rulers and wooden mixing spoons. Now my posters gather dust in my laundry room, residing between the dryer and the wall. I wonder what happened to me and to the collective desire for justice. Was it all just tied to the virus? The COVID-19 lockdown gave everyone the time to confront troubling issues, but did moving on from COVID made us want to move on from the uncomfortable ideas too?
Maybe people just have short attention spans as new issues crowd out the previous ones. There are always developing atrocities somewhere, demanding our attention. Right now we seem to look further away. A stark black-and-white digital print by Sanya Hyland depicts an open-mouthed figure with their hair standing on end; the words “Ceasefire Now! Now! Now! Free Palestine. End the Occupation!” seem to scream off the page.
The Reading Room has shelves lined with home-made zines and books. They are imperfect and quaint, the opposite of the slick advertisement-filled magazines at grocery stores. There is also a creation area with ink and blocks, where everyone has an opportunity to make their own poster. Anyone who has something to say and expresses it on a sign instantly becomes a protest artist. That is the great strength of it. Protest art doesn’t require an art school education, and it unites people briefly. While we hold our signs we feel hopeful, like we’re changing the world.
Read more of the April 17–23, 2024 issue.