Marlon Mullen, Untitled, 2018, Acrylic on canvas, 36” x 36”, all images courtesy NIAD
Marlon Mullen, Untitled, 2019, Acrylic on canvas, 48” x 48”
Mullen at the opening of the Biennial.
At the beginning of last year we recognized Marlon Mullen’s achievements as one of the progressive art studio movement’s most prominent breakout artists. At that time, as Mullen’s second solo exhibition at JTT in NYC was opening we wrote, “Just a few years ago, the idea that artists with developmental disabilities working in progressive art studios could develop serious careers as contemporary artists seemed idealistic and almost unattainable.” The year that followed for Mullen was monumental. His work was selected for the 2019 Whitney Biennial and he was also a recipient of the prestigious SECA award alongside artists Kenyatta A.C. Hinkle and Sahar Khoury; their works are currently on view in a three person exhibition at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art through April.
Mullen’s inclusion in the Biennial is highly significant and historic, marking the first time a disabled artist working with the support of a progressive art studio has been represented. Curators Rujeko Hockley and Jane Panetta selected four paintings; typical of his oeuvre, these lush, intuitive abstractions of found art magazine imagery feel deeply earnest. Representing him at his best, they’re compositionally complex and fascinating due to their powerfully deliberate nature - paint is methodically applied without being fussy, appearing purely pragmatic or matter of fact. Among the strongest works in the exhibition, Mullen’s paintings were stand-outs.
Critical responses to this Biennial looked for it to respond to the bewildered anxiety that increasingly defines our present era. There is an eagerness for art, in this moment, to serve as a response or even explanation of the turn history has taken. Peter Schjeldahl’s review dubs this Biennial the “Post-Traumatic Stress Edition.” But in this regard, it doesn't seem to deliver. What critics perceive instead is a sense of introversion and detachment from history. The closest this event came to addressing our current political state of mind was through a demonstrative disavowal of the institution by a handful of artists who withdrew work late in the exhibition - a response to Warren B. Kanders, wealthy donor and vice chair of Whitney’s board, and his unscrupulous ownership of Safariland.
Within the content of the exhibition, though, art has not let us down - the insight which we seek is in fact there. It's not in the individual expressions of these artists as much as a way of leading by example to a better existence. The key to understanding this lies in how and why Mullen came to be included, as well as the profound role disability plays in not just this exhibition, but contemporary art. Schjeldahl went on to say “Concerning art history...the show feels amnesiac,” while Jerry Saltz’s review delves deeper into this observation:
While we used to believe art history was a progression of one ism and style to the next, artists are now inhabiting the beautiful ruins of the art of the past 125 years — not to mention the glories of 50 centuries of art before that — and are making new things with old tropes. They dance on teleology’s grave, using the canon and previous art willy-nilly as material, fodder, form, information, and tools to make their own work. ... Artists’ free-ranging in the fabulous scrap heap of visual culture isn’t new; what’s new here is the passionate embrace of processes they’re using to embed new subjects into known genres, styles, and techniques. This points beyond the Biennial to a wider path forward and away from toeing the line of progress.
The earnestness does have an upside, though. Nearly everything here is conspicuously handmade, pieced together with wire and tape. Humble materials predominate (meshes, fabric, beads, etc.), and layered busywork is everywhere, which means the two genuine so-called outsiders really fit in: Marlon Mullen, with his blazing paintings of Art in America covers, and Joe Minter, 76, a maker of twisted-metal sculptures and the builder in Birmingham, Alabama, of the giant African Village in America.
What Saltz is describing, in these apocalyptic terms, is that the forward movement of art is forcing a paradigm shift in the perception of art’s history as well as its present. The “beautiful ruins” though, are those of an artifice of progress once taken for granted. This false history was used to give a narrow, privileged class (white artists, especially men) credit for wide swaths of ideas that were in fact drawn from an increasingly diverse range of sources, both culturally and neurologically.
The revelation that Saltz approaches is that the true history of art has never been a discourse among elites or a progression of increasingly sophisticated ideas. It has always been driven by the process of slowly expanding to include a more diverse range of ideas, and eventually, a pluralistic representation of people, cultures, and ways of being. This distinction is crucial, and Marlon Mullen’s emergence at this moment is important largely because the narrative that this new art history illuminates has everything to do with disability.
This art historical paradigm shift parallels a similarly consequential one in the disability field over the past several decades - the fundamental rethinking of what disability is, known as the “social model.” This radical and crucial concept can seem impossible or absurd from the standpoint of the prevailing worldview, but under scrutiny proves to be an undeniable truth. This model embodies the understanding that no matter how profound or prominent a person’s physical or neurological impairment appears to be, they’re not intrinsically disabled. Rather, disability is imposed only by the normative values of society and its failure to provide access.
The art world is the paragon and microcosm of this process. Through their idiosyncratic ways of being and thinking, artists contribute their creativity, ideas, and critical discourse to society - the essential sum of their capacity as individuals. Mullen’s inclusion is a testament to a social model for art history - the understanding that accessibility is not just something for disabled people, and more than a matter of fairness or justice. It is the sole mechanism by which our culture advances.
Facilitator Andres Cisneros, who has worked extensively with Marlon in the studio, and Executive Director Amanda Eicher discuss the trajectory of Mullen’s career and NIAD’s role in providing support:
In many ways, Marlon Mullen has led the way, not only in his own success, but in demonstrating for NIAD what resources each of our artists needs to thrive in an art world that is finally recognizing the value of diverse perspectives on art-making. As it turns out, these resources - time, studio space, and mentoring relationships, as well as the marketing, financial/career planning, and exhibitions support many artists don’t receive - are the same ones most artists need to build success over decades of work. Out of this, Marlon has showed us how to create not just extraordinary careers in the arts with and for our artists, but sustainable ones as well. Marlon’s success looks to have a long arc. The lessons we’ve learned will likely help NIAD stay agile as more artists working in progressive studios follow his lead. We couldn’t do it without Marlon’s family - in particular his sister April Johnson - and his galleries who saw the potential for his groundbreaking career.
Marlon Mullen (born 1963) maintains a prolific painting practice at NIAD’s studio in Richmond, California. Represented exclusively by JTT in New York and Adams & Ollman in Portland, Mullen has upcoming exhibitions at Adams & Ollman, Independent Art Fair, and the Frans Hals Museum. He has exhibited previously in solo exhibitions at NIAD, JTT, Adams & Ollman, Jack Fischer Gallery, Atlanta Contemporary, and White Columns. Group exhibitions include Guerneville organized by Gerasimos Floratos and Ross Simonini at NIAD, Way Bay 2 at the Berkeley Art Museum, Summer Exhibition at Sorry, We’re Closed in Brussels, NADA Miami with White Columns, and Under Another Name organized by Thomas J. Lax at the Studio Museum of Harlem. Mullen is the recipient of a 2014 Wynn Newhouse Award.
Mullen with a work in progress at NIAD.