The letters seem worn, honed down to stubs, and in places they are mere traces or tracks. In general the texts are not legible, and viewers may be inclined to decipher or to just let go. Now and then you experience an odd sensation, as when staring indefinitely at an Ad Reinhardt, and something indefinable moves or takes shape. Language is rendered part object, or partially erased testament, eluding our attempts to classify it or extract from it the things that normally function to make us feel comfortable. A nice counterbalance to these large, dark canvases are several somewhat smaller works that incorporate photo-silkscreen and coal dust on paper.
Faces peer from behind the dot matrix and the text, which is clear and velvety black.
It was the first educational establishment to open its doors to African Americans and Native Americans. For her project, Weems has chosen specific images and enlarged them on semi-transparent sheets of muslin, which she hung in layers from the ceiling. Text is superimposed on the images, and an audio-narrative describes various key historical moments, including the story of Hampton's founder, Samuel Chapman Armstrong. Weems has lined the downstairs gallery with selections from Johnston's original album. The images depict students in full Victorian school regalia, posing without seeming to be posing while attending classes that range from English literature and physics, to agriculture and watercolor painting.