Artists are raising their voices to cut through the noise.
Through printmaking, drawing and sculpting, local creatives are crafting an image of a more unified, equitable and compassionate world.
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J. Leigh Garcia
Growing up in Dallas meant the Mexican border was never far from J. Leigh Garcia’s mind. The 27-year-old artist was raised hearing stories of how her grandfather swam the Rio Grande into the U.S. and her grandmother later came. She has been grappling with her biracial Latina identity ever since. The Kent State University assistant professor of print media and photography confronts those issues in her printmaking-based art, a medium used to voice dissent during the Mexican Revolution. Next April and May on Kent State’s campus, look for a life-size outdoor image installation Garcia is co-curating titled “Import/Export,” which depicts the imbalances and inequalities of import and export systems around the globe.
From Sept. 8 to 30, she has a solo exhibit at the University of North Georgia showcasing her “Vigilantes” screen print and her newest work, “Fueron Bautizados,” a reductive woodcut that translates to “They Were Baptized” and contrasts her baptism with her grandpa’s pivotal swim into America.
photo by Tylar Sutton
“Since I can remember, I’ve been very aware of race. I’m really interested in social justice in regard to racial equity.
Because my grandparent came over undocumented, I consider myself a byproduct of that. All this negative talk of stereotypes in regard to undocumented immigrants, specifically Latino, is close to home.
I learned Border Patrol agents take tires and … drag them along border walls to find footprints and track down undocumented people. [In “Vigilantes”] in the sand, you can see indigenous Mexicans, soldaderas (women of the Mexican Revolution) pointing guns and vaqueros (Mexican cowboys). I was thinking about my Mexican ancestors and how they would feel about this practice of dragging tires.
Once you get to us second generation, there’s a lot of guilt from knowing what our grandparents went through so we could have awesome lives here.
I have this video of my Mexican family and Mexican American family coming to my baptism. There’s my grandpa, who crossed undocumented and is Mexican, in this white church, watching me get baptized. [“Fueron Bautizados” is] juxtaposing that with my grandpa’s crossing the border as a symbolic baptism because he swam through water into this new life.
The work is also a way for me to process being biracial and understand where I lie within both cultures.
I’ve learned I have a lot of privilege, being half white and raised in predominantly white spaces.
I’m really thankful for the experiences my family members, specifically my Mexican family members, have gone through to where I have the privilege to be an artist.
I wanna make work that honors them to give back.”
— as told to Kelly Petryszyn
Tammy Phan
Leandra Drumm
As Leandra Drumm worked slow days at her studio in Akron, she watched her friends work tirelessly in the education and health care fields, combatting threats posed by the coronavirus. While her previous etched glassware and pewter works depicted fantastical worlds of stars, skyrockets and imaginative faces, the 51-year-old co-owner of Leandra Drumm Designs and daughter of renowned sculptor Don Drumm felt she needed to create pieces that conveyed a message about our reality.
With profits benefiting the Akron Summit County COVID-19 Emergency Support Fund, Drumm’s new pewter series commemorates everyday people — mail carriers, teachers, doctors — and moments that have made a difference in our lives throughout this pandemic. It includes a “Thank You Heroes” ornament, a “Please Wash Your Hands” plaque and a mask pin. That sentiment is most evident in “Can’t Wait to Be 6 Feet Closer,” an ornament that illustrates the simple act of embracing a loved one. It won Drumm a grand prize at the national American Craft Week competition. Serving as a form of expression and escape, it combines Drumm’s past artistry with the narratives of those we’ve come to lean on.
Tammy Phan
Leandra Drumm
“When my family and I would walk in the park, we noticed people were stopping their cars and yelling out their windows, asking questions like, Hey! What kind of dog is that?
I realized there was this need for people to be social.
Every time you look at the news, we keep hearing the same advice about distancing yourself, and while I was sketching ideas for this ornament, I just kept thinking, I want to be 6 feet closer.
My mom’s hard of hearing, so it’s been a real struggle to communicate with her in-person. She has to read our lips to understand, but we’re wearing masks.
So this ornament was inspired by my desire to not only connect and communicate with friends and family but especially my parents.
The heart between the man and woman embracing represents our love for one another. The little houses and trees around the perimeter of the ornament represent our communities.
I wanted to tell a larger story with a background card that comes with the ornament. A poem on it reads, ‘We will hold hands again. We will hug again. We will laugh again. Soon we will be 6 feet closer than we’ve ever been!’”
— as told to Dylan Walczak
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Chika Nkwocha
The art of 18-year-old Chika Nkwocha does more than just make a statement — it forges a path for change. The Akron resident shares her evocative portraits on social media to call out discrimination, challenge the stigma around Black hair and stand up against racial injustices, while posting links to petitions to spur action.
Incorporating elements of African culture such as cowrie shells and tribal markings, the daughter of Nigerian immigrants depicts her Black subjects as royalty, uplifting their stories and shattering stereotypes. Her hand-drawn, digitally colored portraits are also timely — she recently did a tribute to late civil rights leader John Lewis.
Her work has gained national recognition: a silver prize in the 2019 NAACP Afro-Academic, Cultural and Technological Scientific Olympics for her “Dispersion, Disownment, and Discovery” piece, which depicts the transformation of Black identity, and gold in the 2020 Scholastic Art and Writing Competition for her “Reparations” portrait. She currently studies studio art and biomedical engineering at Ohio State University and is expanding her reach with plans to launch a website selling her artwork and a clothing line, AfroEmpress Apparel, featuring her art.
photo by Tylar Sutton
Chika Nkwocha
“I feel conviction to take action. It’s something I was born with.
It’s easy to be intimidated or to not feel of value because you’re Black — to not embrace our 4C hair textures or melanin. That is something that I incorporate through my art: showing Black women as queens or Black men as protectors and kings, changing the narrative [of] what we envision Black people to be — what we truly are.
Having pride in Black identity … is a recurring theme throughout my works. It’s showing what it means to be Black, how to relate with Black people, how to understand Black culture and how to be respectful toward it.
I was inspired to create [“Reparations”] when I saw a photograph of the young man who was wearing a red hat that looked like a MAGA [“Make America Great Again”] hat. I looked closely and it said “Make Africa Great Again.”
In the background, it looks like the Trump sticker. Where it would say Trump, it says reparations. I put “Make Me Matter Again” on his face to be blatant. I put gun wounds to symbolize not just the constant threat of police brutality but more so the plight of African Americans throughout history.
[It] represents what America ought to be … being respected and being repaid for what [we’ve] endured at the hands of this country.
I’ve been trying to use my Instagram to be a voice to those who can’t use theirs. When I did pieces for [George] Floyd, [Breonna] Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery … I created them so people could see ways to sign petitions.
We live in constant fear. I want people to understand this is a serious matter.
It was creating art but also creating an action that can be sparked by art.”
— as told to Zaria Johnson
instagram.com/afro_empress_art
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Shawn Coss
A suggestion from a fan to address mental health in his drawings changed Shawn Coss’ life and the lives of many others.
The Ravenna artist had been using dark imagery — ghoulish skeletons, heartless creatures — for years, and his style fit the challenging topic, so he began sketching. The 37-year-old now has the tradition of doing mental health art as part of his Inktober Illness series — his spin on an online challenge that tasks artists with drawing art every day of October.
To get ideas for his watercolor and ink illustrations, he mined his experiences with patients as a part-time nurse and discussed case studies with an art therapist. The process led him to discover and come to grips with his own struggles with depression, anxiety and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.
His Inktober Illness collection became a book, and on Sept. 1, he’s releasing a second edition, “It’s All in Your Head.” Some proceeds from that and Any Means Necessary, a clothing line he runs with a friend that features his art on pieces like masks and hoodies, are donated to mental health charities, with more than $10,000 raised to date.
His art has resonated widely, with therapists using the book in sessions, psychologists including it in college textbooks and his 300,000-plus fans following his social media.
photo by Tylar Sutton
Shawn Coss
“Complete and utter darkness with a hint of light — that’s my artwork. If you take the time to look, you’ll see positivity.
I’m drawing the illness. The illness itself is a monster, as opposed to the person.
People can’t put into words how they feel sometimes, but my artwork — the rawness of it — is helping them.
The anxiety disorder, [in] the first edition, has fingers gripping into the ground, head’s thrashing, eyes are all over — showing this violent shaking motion. People reach out like, That’s how I feel inside when I’m having an anxiety attack, but on the outside, no one really notices.
I got bombarded with thousands of messages — people hating me, loving me, asking me for advice. People tell me their worst stuff: Your artwork was the only thing that kept me alive.
My issues with depression were coming out when I did the depressive disorder [drawing] like, I feel black tar pulling me down no matter how much I’m trying to get up.
[At] 17 years old, I had a bad acid trip. My girlfriend told me she was banging my best friend. I put a gun in my mouth. My friend called me. He goes, Let’s hang out. So I put the gun away.
If I would have pulled that trigger, I wouldn’t have my two beautiful daughters, I wouldn’t have met my wife, I wouldn’t have this career, this ability to reach people.
There’s more in life for me. I can start a conversation and give therapy to myself by getting this out. I wanna be a beacon of awareness.”
— as told to Kelly Petryszyn
Thomas Morgan
A worldwide pandemic, momentous protests over racial inequality and deep political divide — 2020 is a year unlike any other. This whirlwind year inspired Canton-based artist Thomas Morgan, 58, to update his 10-by-40-foot sculpture “Shattered Expressions,” found on a building at the intersection of Fifth and Cleveland avenues in the Canton Arts District.
Created in 2009, the piece features three cement faces expressing joy, rage and sorrow painted in colorful abstract designs. His original goal was to provoke and convey human emotions.
Since we’re coping with giants we weren’t facing over a decade ago, he began redesigning it this summer.
Morgan hopes the new version brings awareness to our complex struggles and documents the emotions our society has felt amidst unprecedented upheaval.
“The purpose of art is to represent the times. I really believe it’s an artist’s duty to reflect life as we know it.
2020’s insane. We’ve gotta do something. We can’t just forget and pretend like this isn’t going on.
That piece is so big. It’s probably more visible than anything else downtown.
I’m representing BLM [Black Lives Matter], division, unity, global unity.
On the borders ... [there will be] handprints. I want to show mass, how it’s affecting every race and everybody. Lots and lots of little handprints ... in browns and reds and yellows, representing different races.
It seems like our issues have become global issues now, so that’s why I wanted the two outside faces [to be] different sides of the earth.
I’m trying to put all the emphasis on the center one. It’s the most powerful of the three.
It’s split down the middle with red and blue, and it’s torn, representing torn parties, division. And then where it’s torn, I’ve got a Black man’s face underneath.
Whether you’re Republican or Democrat — what’s it matter? It’s not a party thing.
Visually facing the chaos within society … helps to see it with this closure or acceptance.
Stop with the nationalism and start thinking as [a]human, as a whole.”
— as told to Alexandra Sobczak
