Local News

Print Issue: March 6, 2003

Artist-Teacher Creates Works Of Black American History

Omar Thompson, a ceramics and computer graphics instructor at Marist School, Atlanta, has an exhibit entitled "America's Backyard: Our History Assembled" opening March 8 at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. Thompson is also one of 26 artists who were selected from over 500 entries to participate in the 2003 Atlanta Biennial, an exhibit which opens March 21 at the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center. (Photo by Michael Alexander)

ATLANTA-Marist School art teacher Omar Thompson has assembled ceramic stories of the African-American experience of American history for an exhibit which has an opening reception March 8 at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute and runs through April 27.

Using the medium of clay, the African-American artist has collected and utilized broken windows, blown tires, chicken bones, worn-down shoes, dirty gloves and rusting metal for "America's Backyard: Our History Assembled." Some of the 16 pieces also have American flags along with African shapes such as masks and slave ships, recognizing and honoring his ancestors. He is also among 26 artists selected from a pool of more than 500 to show two pieces in the 2003 Atlanta Biennial, which will open with a reception on March 21 from 7-9 p.m. at the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center and run through June 7.

Thompson teaches computer graphics, drawing, ceramics and design at Marist, while also maintaining a private studio at the Arts Exchange where he actively works on private and public commissions. His art, based in ceramics, has a very strong sculptural intent, largely influenced by African art. He helped lead a Marist trip to Ghana in 2001.

"My interest in contemporary theory and new technologies has developed my work in new and exciting arenas. Found object assemblages, digitally generated art and social-political based works have now become the staple of my creative direction," he said. "This (Birmingham exhibit) is the biggest exhibit for me . . . being at some place of recognition in its own right."

America's Backyard critiques "a nation struggling with a deepening racial divide; America's Backyard is a reflection of society's failure to become an inclusive society of United States citizens."

The pieces shaped to raise social consciousness address the past struggles African-Americans have faced, and continue to confront with problems such as illiteracy, homelessness and poverty.

"The whole thing is like a wake-up call . . . The struggle is still here. Some of the same situations still exist among us and they need to be challenged. We don't have any black heroes or she-roes keeping it on the agenda, keeping it in the public eye," he said. "I just see a new name and a new face to the same game."

The Atlanta Biennial ceramic sculpture pieces "Standing on My Own" and "No One Saw Me Arriving" reflect some disappointment that he hasn't advanced further in his career. The piece in the Birmingham show "In My Rising" features a hand gripping money on the cover of a Wheaties' box to reflect how "I've got to come to terms with this place, this culture and then I'm trying to obtain financial freedom and stability. It's a bitter satire here because the Wheaties' box is a place reserved for heroes of sports figures. I think the real heroes are the politicians, the people who deal with pertinent issues."

Works like 'The Dirty South," "Coon" and the "Buck Wheat Series" explore the dignity and tragedy of work, the shame of lynching and the pain, failure and success of the Civil Rights Movement. "My Father's Father" is a collage with a mask face in an American flag framed by a shredded tire and with old wood, cotton, his worn boot and a work glove. In "Kiss the Grave," a cross with Civil Rights Movement photos, "I'm looking at my forefathers, my ancestors, those people who fought in order for me to be capable of what I'm doing now."

Thompson was moved to begin digging into America's Backyard after Sept. 11, when he viewed black Americans joining in the patriotic fervor suspiciously, as "I didn't feel like I'm part of the big picture." This triggered the expression of suppressed feelings of frustration over "that whole idea of inclusion" he had developed after seeing his father face discrimination in finding an apartment after his parents lost their home in a hurricane in Miami in 1992.

"It struck inside of me a nerve. I wanted to say something about it, but I never did," he said. "I'm saying, 'Listen this is what we've been through. This is what actually happened.' It's heavy . . . I just needed to say these things to get them off my consciousness, out and open, because there are some issues important to me and it's something people don't like to talk about, race and racism, just like sex, they like to keep it undercover . . . (The exhibit) really lets you know who I am."

He hopes it will encourage more needed dialogue on racial issues. "This country has always had a problem dealing with race . . . and I think this is something we need to come to terms with if we want to be one nation under God."

The artist, who holds a master of fine art degree from Ohio State University, enjoys the search process for forgotten items, which each have a unique history. For "On My Daddy's Back" he collected old gloves from plumbers, painters, carpenters and brick masons. "No Journey Like My Own" uses old tires and belts. "There's no history at Home Depot," he said. He sometimes finds new ideas and objects along the way.

Much of his earlier pieces have been preoccupied with the fundamental idea of form and function, but his work has evolved into a process of experimentation with materials, spontaneous creativity and finding harmonious relationships of shape and space. "These are done spontaneously. I just go with what works for me and feels good . . . (I enjoy) just creating itself, coming up with a general concept and ideas and then watching it from start to finish because you kind of know when you've got a piece that's nice. Even if I don't sell stuff, it's not a problem. If I feel good about the work, eventually it will sell."

Now that he's made his social commentary, he's ready to move on "and have a little fun." He also looks forward to focusing more on his feelings about materials and creating even more abstract and conceptually heavy works. "The use and addition of new materials such as liquid water, epoxy, resin, metals, hair, wax and Lucite will create a refreshing approach to my use of clay and my desire to make a positive impact on Atlanta's contemporary arts arena."

His students at Marist see him create as they design their own pieces. While he may be teaching more future doctors and corporate lawyers than artists, he hopes some will return to ceramics as a hobby one day. "If you can find a creative niche, something you have passion about, all this is good. My thing is to get the best out of them right now and let them be the judge of who, what, when and why."

As he bears his artistic cross boldly, Thompson seems to find peace in expressing the truth of his experience.

"I feel God in humanity. My work speaks volumes for the things I believe in and the things I think are important, the human condition," he said.

For information on the exhibits e-mail Thompson at thompsoo@Marist.com.