Elvert Xavier Barnes Protest Photography . Writings on the Wall . Ad Campaigns
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Though I had not heard nothing of the exhibit it did not take much to realze that it, simply, must be an exhibition of some sort pertaining to Gay Pride celebrations. Wanting to get out of the rain before my two cameras got wet I'd rush to the entranceway beneath the banner, at the southwest corner, but was not able to open the door. The rain, just in that short amount of time, had already gotten heavier. Attempting to protest my cameras from the gush of rain I'd tucked one under my left armpit and the other under my right and then, run out to 17th Street, turn left and then another left until I'd reach the center of M Street. Which upon entering the main entraance of the complex I'd walk toward the receptionist desk where, at first, I was greeted with less than a freindly attittude from the black male security guard. Which is something, that as a black man, I am very familiar with
Perhaps to defuse his attittude, I'd pull each of my cameras down from under my armpits and hold them gently but firmly, in each of my hands, and inquire if he banner hanging from the soutthwest entranceway had anything to do with an exhibit in the building. Realizing that I may be an 'important black man' the security guard, immediatlely, would change his facial expression and say that I needed to go back outside to M Street, walk back to 17th Street, and enter at the first door. Which is what I had atempted to do, moments before, but, for some reason was not able to open the door.
I'd tuck the cameras under my arms, again, and retrace my steps back to the southwest corner and since the door had not opened before I ran to the entranceway at the northwest corner which is where I'd happen upon three of four staff persons standing in the doorway, perhaps, taking a smoking break, but, who seemed to have expected me. News always travels fast when a black man is running around a building ... trying to get into its doors.
With my cameras still protected under my armpits I'd ask if it was the entranceway to the PRIDE: Protest or Party exhibition. I was directed to go back to the southwest corner. The rain had lightened up a bit but had not yet stopped. I did must not have tried the right handle or pulled the door in the right direction but this time the door did open. Observing a black female security guard a few yards down the hallway, I'd walk to the receptionist desk and ask where the PRIDE exhibition was. And as if she had been expecting me (news travels fast when a black man is trying to get into a building), politely, she'd say that I had just passed it and would direct me back down the hallway to the room with the opened door, on the left. She also siad hat I should take special note of the two display cases, in the hallway, directly across from the exhibit room on the right.
A display of photographs integrated with text takes the viewer on a historical journey from the 1969 Stonewall Riots through the many pride celebrations, protests and demonstrations that have taken place, over the years. Which, brought to mind, my body of work that ... and without apologies but from the perspective of a black man ... I have often referred to as PROTEST PHOTOGRAPHY. And the fact that I was not asked to contribute, to this important exhibition, speaks louder than words.