Exhibition & Museum Writing, No. ❸
April 13, 2023 | May 19, 2024
(Re)Painting Histories
Grand Gallery, RISD Museum
Edited and Reviewed by Kate Irvin and Alexandra Poterack
In 2023, we stood in the Grand Gallery of the RISD Museum to celebrate the launch of the first issue of desi-gned. Surrounded by European artworks, whose materials and motifs often trace back to the Global South, we were confronted by the context within which we create. In response, we intervened. By intervening, we sought to surface what has been marginalized and erased, foster dialogue between past and present, reshape the stories institutions choose to tell, and illuminate the complexity of histories that are too often simplified or ignored. What follows is a vignette of our response: three of the 20+ labels that were re-written and re-presented in the museum galleries.
Museum interventions are acts of creative resistance. They ask us to look again—at what is shown, what is hidden, and why. In 1969, Andy Warhol was invited to “raid” the RISD Museum’s storage. Warhol’s Raid the Icebox I is recognized as “the first and possibly most significant artist-curated show of the modern era.” He didn’t tell a new story; instead, Warhol exposed the arbitrary nature of the existing one, raising enduring questions about who decides what is valuable, beautiful, or worthy of preservation. Since then, interventions have evolved as a powerful tool of critique—manifesting through exhibitions, digital projects, performance, and reimaginings of institutional architecture and habits.
(Re)Painting Histories steps into the tradition of museum interventions to trouble the silences surrounding colonialism and cultural exchange. Briefly installed in the museum’s Grand Gallery, (Re)Painting Histories features over twenty re-written labels that “re-paint” subaltern histories—surfacing connections that are often overlooked or unspoken. From Rembrandt’s Mughal influences to the South Asian origins of pigments like yellow and ultramarine, the intervention traces colonial entanglements embedded in European art. It challenges the dominant narratives upheld by museums—particularly in their “grand” galleries where histories of conquest, trade, and cultural borrowing often go unacknowledged.
Installation photograph of (Re)Painting Histories at RISD Museum, April 13, 2023. Photographed by Boris Gramajo.Installation photograph of (Re)Painting Histories at desi-gned II launch event at RISD Museum, May 19, 2024. Photographed by Erik Gould.
THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST
Benjamin Gerritsz. Cuyp
Dutch, ca. 1640
Georgianna Sayles Aldrich and Mary B. Jackson Funds,
62.019
This scene portrays an episode from the New Testament. As an angel removes the stone from Christ’s tomb, Christ is presented symbolically in the burst of divine light that blinds the Roman guards who scatter, fall, and lift their swords in defense. Cuyp dramatized the event by using a nearly monochromatic contrast of light and shadow and sketchy brushstrokes that enhance the frenetic atmosphere. Like the contemporary Dutch painter Rembrandt, he focused on the humble aspects of religious narrative, espousing a central belief of the Protestant Reformation, that individual worshippers may seek a personal relationship with God. — RISD Museum
Design for a palanquin, ca. 1850-1890, graphite, ink, and watercolor (most likely Indian Yellow) on paper, South Asian (Banaras, India), RISD Museum, No. 1986.151.10. Gift of Catherine and Ralph Benkaim
Indian Yellow pigment—made using cow’s urine in Bengal and shipped to England. Image Credit: Technical University of Dresden
Bathed in a glowing warmth, the subtle golden tones surrounding Christ evoke the signature radiance of Indian Yellow. Indian Yellow, piuri, is a pigment renowned for its unusual orange-yellow hue, striking optical luminescence, and exceptional lightfastness. Captivated by the vibrancy of yellow tones in Mughal and Rajput paintings, the British began sourcing the rare puiri pigment from the gwalas (cow-herders) of Bengal in the 17th century. Costly and difficult to obtain, the pigment was used sparingly by European artists to achieve luminous effects, appearing in some of the most iconic works of European art—from Rembrandt’s Belshazzar’s Feast (1635-38) to Van Gogh’s Starry Night (1889).
For centuries, the origin and method of producing the pigment remained a mystery. It wasn’t until 1883 that the jaundiced hue of Indian Yellow was traced to a merciless process: cattle were fed only mango leaves and water. Malnourishment and dehydration caused the cows’ urine to turn a bright shade of yellow. The urine was then boiled down to a syrupy consistency and dried into a dirty yellow sediment. This was shipped to England in sealed packages—many addressed to Messrs. Winsor and Newton, the namesakes of the paint brand still used in art studios around the world.
PORTRAIT OF ANTOINE-GEORGES-FRANÇOIS DE CHABAUD-LATOUR AND HIS FAMILY
Jacques-luc Barbier-Walbonne
French, 1769-1860
Helen M. Danforth Acquisition Fund, 2003.105
Portraiture and history painting come together in this tribute to family devotion. Tenderly instructing his daughter and son, Antoine-Georges-François de Chabaud-Latour gestures toward a monument to his own father, a distinguished military man and engineer. The carved epitaph—he lived and died without reproach—provides a lesson in virtue for the following generations. Chabaud-Latour’s wife, Juliette, stands beside him, nursing their infant son, demonstrating the importance of maternal strength to the future of family and nation. The portrait is situated in the landscape of Nimes in southern France, home to both the artist and the Chabaud-Latour family.
Dochalla (double-sided shawl), ca. 1815, pashm (goat’s hair) kani (double interlocking twill tapestry weave), South Asian (Kashmiri), RISD Museum, No. 78.192.3. Gift of Mrs. E. F. Smith and Mrs. Peter McBean
The shawl worn by Chabaud-Latour’s wife closely resembles this one. Its large ambi boteh— mango-shaped motifs commonly known as ‘paisley’—take their name from the Scottish town where Kashmiri shawls were once mass-produced.
Kashmiri artisans weave using the kani technique, working with multiple tujis (wooden bobbins). The resulting fabric features a finely interlocked tapestry weave—ornate in appearance, yet lightweight and structurally strong. Image Credit: Shuaib BashirAfter Empress Josephine received a Kashmiri shawl from Napoleon, the fine pashmina (goat’s wool) became a ubiquitous symbol of wealth and status in French society. Chabaud-Latour’s wife is wrapped in a fine sozni (silk or wool embroidered) or kani (double interlocking twill tapestry woven) Kashmiri shawl featuring intricate patterning along the pallu (border). The shawl has a dark ground—a characteristic uncommon in many export shawls at the time, suggesting that it was likely purchased in the South Asian subcontinent and not in Europe. The creation of a single Kashmiri shawl requires more than fifteen specialized craftsmen, including spinners, dyers, pattern drafters, and weavers. Making a single shawl of this quality can take up to one year.
The Anglicized term “cashmere” exemplifies the erasure of identity and the appropriation of native crafts, such as the labor-intensive, traditional crafts of shawl weaving and embroidery from Kashmir that typified the colonial conquest. The capitalist tendencies that emerged from this appropriation continue to impact the industry and communities that have practiced the craft for generations. Local artisans have long struggled to compete with mass-market European Jacquard imitations that capitalize on traditional aesthetics for profit.
CHARITY
Artists of Fontainebleau School
French, Active mid-1500s
Anonymous gift, 57.157
The central figure of this allegorical painting represents Charity, who nurses one child while tenderly protecting five other mischievous babies. Her monumental figure and serpentine drapery emulate the dynamism of Italian painters and sculptors whose innovations exploded the rules of Renaissance classicism in the 1500s. Aspects of Italian Mannerism, including elongated figures and strained poses, spread to France and the Netherlands and were widely disseminated through engravings. Embraced by the French king François I, who brought artists from Italy to decorate his country palace, a French version of Mannerism became known as the Fontainebleau School.
Bharatanatyam dancer Swapna Sundari is adorned with traditional gold, ruby, and pearl head ornaments. The thalaikkachchu (three-part headband), vakchutti (forehead pendant), jimiki (dome-shaped hanging ornament), and mattal (attached chain) together form the classic adornment of a South Asian bride or royal woman. Image Credit: Oppi Untracht
Vakchutti (headpiece), 1800s, rubies, emeralds, and pearls with gold, South Asian (India), RISD Museum, No. 67.221. Bequest of Martha B. LisleThe hair adornments woven into Charity’s elaborate braids reflect the enduring influence of South Asian aesthetics on Renaissance jewelry. From the delicate filigree (gold lattice) work to the clustered semiprecious stones, the headpiece closely resembles the matha patti—a traditional South Asian head ornament, typically crafted from strands of precious metal, pearls, or rare stones.
The origins of polychrome jewelry design can be directly traced to the South Asian subcontinent. Centuries before multicolored gemstone settings became fashionable in Europe, South Asian artisans were developing techniques such as kundan (pure gold stone-setting) and meenakari (enameling), combining technical mastery with symbolic and spiritual meaning. The region’s rich access to colored stones—diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls—gave rise to distinctive styles that flourished across empires and courts.
Ornate hair adornments in Western portraiture echo a Euro-American obsession with the “Orient.” Luxury houses such as Tiffany, Cartier, and Van Cleef & Arpels capitalized on this aesthetic, appropriating South Asian design languages while profiting from raw materials extracted through colonial networks across Asia, Africa, and South America.