Die When I Dream [of]
Featuring: Kris Rac
August 4 - September 1, 2022
Opening Reception August 4. 6-9 pm.
291 Grand Street
“We very sorry to be parted from one ’nother... Derefore we cry. Our grief so heavy... I think maybe I die in my sleep when I dream about mama.”
—Oluale Kossola (Cudjo Lewis) on the pain of being abducted and trafficked to the United States on a slave ship at age 19. Stated during his interview with Author Zora Neale Hurston, 1930, around age 90.
The United States was founded on dead dreams. 22,000,000 people forced to die, enslaved or murdered, their aspirations and loves converted to flickering nightmares at the edge of vigilant sleep.¹ Yet, these stories are often excluded from the national foundation story, which has taken on a mythological quality. Especially for White Christian Nationalists (WCN), the “founding fathers” of the United States are conflated with the “founding fathers” of Christianity, acquiring a near-divine status. Today, this patristic patriarchy— that is, the WCN mobilization of the foundational conflation— perpetuates violent terrorist acts. From mass shootings to the racist and gynophobic motivations behind abortion restriction to support of government and police murder, the WCN faction returns, again and again, to the nation’s foundational documents as justification for their violence and violation of human rights. Primarily, they turn to the constitution as the “bible of the state,” imbuing this temporary document with religious authority.
Die When I Dream [of] is a response, a shrine, an imaginary of an alternative to the domination of WCN in the United States. It is dedicated to Oluale Kossola and the diasporas and indigenous peoples who founded the United States through their labor, their pain, and their lives. Inverting the language of patristic patriotism to present the real founders of the United States— the majority American, the enslaved, the disenfranchised— I dream of an alternative history in this space. Here, foundational figures— early presidents— give their hands, severed of their original, valorizing portrait context, as offerings and as an apology for their crimes. The central icon of Oluale Kossola is a patriotic offering and a suggestion for a new historical direction.
The title Die When I Dream [of] refers to Oluale Kossola’s statement of grief and separation, but his cry resonates across time in this nation. It speaks to the “American Dream” and to all of the last gasping cries for “mama” that contradict an oft told conservative narrative of hard work equating accessibility and freedom. Yet, I still believe in a fundamental, foundational dream. I believe that we have the right to dream without dying. But today, most people can’t dream. In sleep, loving faces kill them with pain: brothers or sisters who’ve died or been cut off, their future self dead, their ambitions impossible.
The only way to reclaim our dreams is through community and conscientious revision. Therefore I invite you to contribute your voice to this exhibition: Rewrite the Constitution.
Now more than ever, we must rewrite the Constitution and Rights of the United States. A constitution is only a set of beliefs and practices. It is not a divine document as the WCN believe, and it was never intended to be such a document. Despite this, during recent testimony at the January 6 hearings, on June 21, Arizona Speaker of the House Rusty Bowers stated that “It is a tenet of my faith that the Constitution is divinely inspired.” This sentiment was supported by Representative Liz Cheney, a member of the House Select Committee to Investigate Jan. 6. She stated “we were reminded by Speaker Bowers that our Constitution is indeed a divinely inspired document.”
The Constitution was not written by or with any divine help, however. The United States Constitution and Bill of Rights was initiated by James Madison (with lots of help and advice from his servants, wife, family, and friends of course). It has been compiled and added to over time with new sections called “Amendments.” These Amendments no longer serve us as a nation, because the authors of the first American Constitution never considered the vast majority of persons in the United States.
When the government becomes God in the eyes of those in power, the majority must take the government in their own hands. Majority rule can be opposed, and patristic patriotism can be drowned out by a movement of voices.
How would you describe a constitution? What is your constitution? Your beliefs and practices? And how do we rewrite this document together? You can scan the QR code at the front of the window to add your voice to this conversation.
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¹ This number is based on J D Hacker “ From '20. and odd' to 10 million: The growth of the slave population in the United States.” Slavery Abol. 2020;41(4): 840-855. Combined with David Michael Smith, “Counting the Dead: Estimating the Loss of Life in the Indigenous Holocaust, 1492-Present” In Proceedings of the Twelfth Native American Symposium (2017): 7-17.
Kris Rac (Kristen Racaniello) is a medievalist, artist, gallerist, curator and writer. They completed a dual BFA/BA in painting/art history from SUNY Purchase College in 2014. Following that they received a Masters in Art History from Hunter College in 2017 and an MPhil from the CUNY Graduate Center in 2020. While pursuing their Masters, Kris became a partner at Field Projects gallery, an artist-run space in Chelsea, NY. They also became the manager for Les Enluminures NY, a private gallery of medieval art. Currently, Rac is pursuing a PhD in medieval art history at the CUNY Graduate Center. Kris has exhibited their artwork in galleries throughout the USA and internationally, including most recently at Equity Gallery, Art of Our Century, ATELIER XIII in Slovakia and at Spring Break Art Show, 2021.
History is an imaginary we carry with us, a vague outline shaping present mythologies. The socially constructed imaginary of history forms a throughline in all of Kris Rac’s work. Gender dynamics’ intersection with nationalism and “cultural heritage” have become a particular focus in Rac’s artwork over the past five years as the rise of the “cult of patriotism” has swollen to a near-religious status in the United States and internationally, endangering marginalized individuals.