ALFRED CONTEH

Conteh paints portraits of people he meets in andaround Atlanta, Georgia, where he lives and works. Hegets to know the people he paints; he learns about theirpersonal histories, asks about their aspirations and thechallenges they’ve faced. His portraits capture theiroutward countenance—their body, posture, and fashion—wIth photorealistic perfection, while his acrylicpaints are augmented with earthen elements like soil,concrete, metal dust, and melted urethane in order toarrive at a deeper truth—elemental evidence of toughness amid dereliction.

‘When you see my work, you see cracked surfaces,weathered paint, things left to ruin,’ Conteh says. ‘When I paint these things, that’s the reality of apeople. That’s the type of story I’m telling in this work,through the materials. The only beauty that I see in it is that folks are still here despite those circumstances.’

The title It Is What It Is is based on a parable about apair of magic glasses, told by civil rights activist andcomedian Dick Gregory. In the story, the universeoffers certain people a chance to wear magic glassesthat will show them the world the way it is, not as people say it’s supposed to be. If they put the glasses on,there are rules—they can never take the glasses off,and they can’t force anybody else to wear the glasses.

The story conveys Conteh’s experience as a BlackAmerican artist trying to paint what Black American lifeactually is, particularly in the American South.

‘There’s a lot of artists who wax poetically about thehistory of our experience; and there are people whohave an Afro-Futuristic bent to their work, who thinkabout potential and possible directions for AfricanAmericans and African Diasporic people,’ Conteh says. ‘That isn’t where I stand. I’m focused on the here andnow. I want you to see it as it is.’

Stanton Road Water Boys depicts three young Blackmen Conteh met while they were standing on a roadwaysoliciting people to buy bottled water. Atlanta policeroutinely run kids like this off because they don’t have abusiness license. They keep coming back because theyhave few other opportunities to make a living.

‘If there were opportunities for them to work, I doubtthey would stand here trying to sell a two dollar bottle ofwarm water,’ Conteh says.

IWB Shawty shows a young woman wearing a ball cap,diamond earring, and crucifix. She’s lifting her shirt toshow she’s carrying a golden pistol. Atlanta recentlyeliminated permit requirements for carrying a gun.IWB is an acronym for concealing inside the waistband.Conteh was surprised to see somebody so young carrying a gun, but hearing about her circumstances it madesense. She was hustling, and found protection and community within a crew of people like herself. Her portraitlooks unafraid and unapologetic.

Looking equally confident and strong are Bill andAnthony, a father and son Conteh met one day in apark. Bill is wearing jeans and crocs; Anthony is wearingAdidas and appears to completely trust his dad.

‘It’s just feel good stuff—a typical fall day on the streetsof Atlanta,’ Conteh says. ‘I wanted to make sure that thisimage is one of the taller, bolder, and more visible worksin the exhibition because it runs counter to the myth ofBlack fathers and Black men not being a pillar in theirchildren’s lives.’

The man called Shampoo described himself to Contehas a local player in the pimp game. He said he wasn’tin it as much anymore because of how the game haschanged. Sex work always has the potential for exploitation he said, but the game has gotten so much worse,with more violence, more drugs, and human trafficking,even of children. He told Conteh that he couldn’t be partof that, and anyway technology today means sex workers can be more self-sufficient.

‘This guy was looking a little disheveled, not as pimptight as he could be,’ Conteh says. ‘He was still in thegame, but only part time. He also did construction.’

Daishon memorialises a moment when Conteh was confronted by one of his own biases. It shows a young Blackman in a sweatshirt holding up two fingers. Conteh firstsaw this young man on the street and thought the handsignal he was flashing could be perceived as a threat.After talking to him, Conteh learned that he was onhis way to get a haircut, and he was giving Conteh thepeace sign. The encounter echoed experiences Conteh recently had after a knee injury, which required himto spend a lot of time at physical therapy in an area ofAtlanta where not a lot of Black people live. As a big guywith dark skin walking with a limp, he was constantlyconfronted with a sense that he was being perceived byothers as a threat.

‘When it comes to me recontextualising my perception,Daishon is a proxy for me,’ Conteh says. ‘When I washis age, older people were wary of me. Older peoplewould lock their door when I was walking. Now aroundthe neighborhood if I see a young brother come in and Idon’t know him, I’m wary. I have to check myself a lot anddo self-examination and make sure if my understandingof things is off or on.’

That gap between what we’re seeing and what we thinkwe’re seeing is what’s on view in Conteh’s portraits.It’s one part of the reality he’s trying to show us—oneaspect of the world as it is. He’s not making distressed paintings; he’s painting distress. Our first reaction tothe facade sticks with us, but reality includes what’sbeneath the cracked surfaces, beyond our internal andexternal preconceptions. There’s more to It Is What It Isthan what we can see.

Recent major exhibitions of Conteh’s work includeAlfred Conteh: The Sweet Spot, Clark Atlanta UniversityArt Museum, Atlanta, GA; Visions of a CulturalCommentator, curated by Madeline Beck, CobbMarietta Museum of Art, Marietta, GA; Alfred Conteh,Selected Works, Harriet Tubman Museum, Macon,GA; the traveling Smithsonian Institution exhibitionMen of Change: Power. Triumph. Truth.; and The LegacyMuseum’s inaugural exhibition at the National Memorialfor Peace and Justice, Montgomery, AL among others.Conteh’s work is included in the collections of the TheLegacy Museum, Montgomery, AL; the Lauren RogersMuseum of Art, Laurel, MS; Clark Atlanta University ArtMuseum, Atlanta, GA; among many others.