Art exhibition in Sacramento explores ‘the transition between black and white’

Editor’s note: This story is part an ongoing series of journalism produced as part a collaboration between The Sacramento Bee, Sol Collective and other community organizations called the “Community to Newsroom Pipeline.” To learn more or to contribute, email us at voices@sacbee.com.

***

This piece was written before Coronavirus in California — before shelter-in-place, quarantine, and the acknowledgment of a global pandemic. From this side of quarantine, the resonance of grey space is more relevant than ever, as we navigate a new reality with no clear end. It also amplifies the importance of artistic expression to illustrate the human condition, especially now, when black and white answers are out of reach. It’s important to support the arts and artists in times like these, and to make sure this work is uplifted.

Upon entering The Distance Between Black and White, there’s a chance you’ll experience discomfort. I almost cried as I stared at a piece called “Breathing.” I’m told many onlookers do.

“Breathing,” and The Distance Between Black and White, asks questions about the world we create for ourselves – who we are and what we let others see. In her exhibition, Sacramento-based artist Lin Fei Fei reminds us of the full range of human emotion, and how we often choose not to access the darker sides, though it’s usually the way to the light.

“I painted Breathing in college in China,” said Fei. “No one else was in the building. I was there all night, alone in the dark. In the morning when the sun came up, I saw a sliver of light through the window. That’s what I wanted to convey – peace even in the dark.”

A sliver of light penetrating the dark, turning black to grey. It’s the concept and the soul of The Distance Between Black and White, Fei’s first solo show in Sacramento.

“Grey is the transition between black and white. This is the state of life I often see. The truth is always grey.” Those words greet visitors to The Distance Between Black and White; they drive not only the show, but how Fei sees life -- not in binaries or boxes, but in the nuanced spaces between. Humans like binary labels: Black and White, Red vs. Blue, Us vs. Them, Left or Right. But Fei’s work exists in the truth beyond — somewhere in the grey.

While a primary part of her work focuses on what might be called the darker side of emotion, she acknowledges that limits exist to everyone’s willingness to open to the dark. Most of her family in China have not seen her work in grey. Much of what she produced before she came to the U.S. were “cheerful” pieces with “lots of green.” Despite her family’s support of her work as an artist, Fei says, “I wear masks too,” alluding to the newer, “darker,” work she’s not sure her family would understand.

I was struck by Fei’s words about grey space, at first because I’m biracial. To keep things simple in this country, which doesn’t deal well in complexity, I often choose masks, too.

“Black and white.” That’s what I say when people ask, “What Are You?” Most of the time I provide the black and white answer to that much more complicated question, but I’ve had the thought to say, “I’m grey,” leaving the questioner to their own projections, inviting them into life between black and white.

It’s apt that within seconds of walking into Fei’s show, memories and questions and flashbacks come to mind. This is the U.S., and Fei grew up in China, but the tendency to try to label and box people in is universal. We know what it means to be boxed into stereotypes, and what it’s like to break out of them.

Born in the midst of China’s one child policy, Fei’s parents paid a heavy fine to the Chinese government for a second child in an effort to have a son. When Fei was born, disappointment gave way to love; but not without leaving an imprint.

“They treated me like a boy -- I had short hair until high school,” Fei recalls. “When I went to college, that’s when I learned to appreciate being a woman. My family really made me tough, but some parts of it made me confused. My work can be very masculine, and I think of my identity as a woman. In my work I’m trying to break those boundaries to find my own identity.”

Boundary-busting women inspire Fei and her work. She calls this the “Her” period of human history, because more women are forging identities outside of those hoisted onto them. Fei wants to inspire others to walk with her into that wilderness too. “Women are fighting, risking their lives for women’s rights -- we should carry it forward, we should be activists.”

Her activist stance comes through every piece of The Distance Between Black and White -- if you try to place her work in one box or another, you’ll quickly realize none of it fits. It’s not sad, it’s not happy, it’s not only dark and it’s not only slivers of light. Each piece invites you to consider your projections, explore the depths of your emotion, and ask yourself why you see what you choose to see. “We are not only one form. We have different forms. My job is to produce work that invites people to awaken,” Fei says.

That’s the intention behind Fei’s work -- inviting viewers to view themselves, to define their own identity. “I grew up in a concrete country,” she says. “It’s polluted, so people sometimes wear masks. It’s chaotic. It can feel hard to be an individual, but it’s my home, and it raised me.”

The chaos and the pollution and the hiding behind masks are all a part of Fei’s path to cultivate her own identity, it’s also a source of inspiration. “In my work, it’s hard to tell the color, the race, the gender. From my perspective, we have the same construction, all of us humans.”

The Distance Between Black and White challenges us to play with what’s underneath our surface -- our masks, our skin, our assumptions, and our projections.

That challenge and complexity is what drove the collaboration between Fei and the show’s curator, South Sac native, Faith McKinnie. This is McKinnie’s first curatorial show, and the outpouring of messages and support to both her and Fei are a strong indication that they’re on track for what they set out to bring to Sac.

“This show makes you explore your identity -- including some of the deeper, darker feelings,” said McKinnie. “It makes people consider their own projections of ‘darkness,’ and encourages them to go deeper inside themselves. We’ve had people message us, saying the show made them cry -- made them feel. Sacramento can be very safe when it comes to art, we wanted to do something different.”

Both McKinnie and Fei say the show was made possible because of support from the Sacramento community -- particularly its creative community. “I feel so loved and supported, I’ve never been part of an art community like the one here,” says Fei. “We’re collaborating with other artists -- we’re having a runway show and artist talks, we’re trying to build up the community.”

In keeping with current shelter-in-place orders, the show at Dwellpoint in downtown Sacramento is on hold, with the intention of reopening once it is safe to do so. In the meantime, you can visit Lin Fei Fei’s website and social media to see more.

Courtney McKinney is a writer and communicator in Sacramento.

This story was originally published May 14, 2020 at 1:10 PM.