“I haven’t lived here, I’ve been here”
Visual works of James Anderson
James Anderson
I haven’t lived here, I’ve been here. I’ve existed. Survived.
There’s only three or four guys who have been here longer than I have.
—James Anderson
James Anderson’s creative practice reconceives the relationship between the psychological and confinement. Incarcerated at San Quentin State Prison since 1979 for a crime he did not commit, the artist’s work presents both a plea for accompliceship as well as an offering of personal solidarity. His paintings turn the iconography of the prison industrial complex on its head, nurturing an innate connection to the universe’s expanse even under conditions of captivity. On a series of domino pendants, James etches a Palestinian flag and the scales of injustice, personalizing each with dates of birth and lucky numbers. In his own words:
My incarceration impacts my paintings... my efforts to draw the viewers into my work are intensified and, as there is much that I am not in a position to actually do, I try to inspire the viewers to think a little deeper than they usually would, as there is much more to reality than most people would normally think or believe.
When we look at James’ paintings, we enter them. His landscapes are multidimensional and speculative, stretching through time. Suddenly, we find ourselves between the inside and the outside: a slippery place where traditions of Black surrealism, Afro-futurism, and militant struggle mingle in order to orient us towards a future journey that begins at departure. For James, a checkered floor, or a keyboard, often marks this path.
What are the sounds and sensations of freedom when time and isolation operate as weapons of the state? The paintings below offer a revolution of the psyche: a blending of interior and exterior worlds, and a declaration of art’s centrality to the project of abolition. James reminds us, as Robin D. G. Kelley writes, of that “feeling of being able to see every single plane of life as it’s lived, and that those planes are both Surreal, the dream-state, and the landscape of the other side of the Earth.”
The artist has been on death row for 35 out of the 42 years of his incarceration. You can learn more about his story here, and send him letters here:
James P. Anderson
P.O. Box C-11400 . 4EB51
San Quentin State Prison
San Quentin CA 94974
USA
—ATM
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