Economics and Inequality

Initially aspiring to establish a democratic republic with socialist values, the Sandinistas faced opposition from the US, due to their alignment with Cuba and the intricacies of Cold War dynamics. The administration of President Ronald Reagan (1981–1989), determined to counter Soviet-friendly forces, clandestinely supported armed Nicaraguan Somoza counterrevolutionary armies hiding out in Honduras and imposed economic sanctions on Nicaraguan trade. This prolonged a brutal conflict, known as the Contra War, forever changing political dynamics in Latin America. One enduring consequence was a surge in immigration out of the region, as many people sought to escape political persecution and the hardships of being displaced refugees. Nancy Chunn’s painting invokes this complex history, offering an opportunity to gain a greater understanding of the complex and intersecting forces that drive immigration, of which economics is just one piece.

— Naima Nigh

Throughout Davis’ work, a recurring theme emerges: nature, in the end, will be the ultimate victor in this battle between the natural and the man-made. Study for Factory encapsulates this idea, as the rocks in the foreground assert their significance and immovable presence, seemingly overtaking the factory itself. In contrast, the factory, situated in the background, emits smoke and appears transient, its pipes sardined against each other, evoking a sense of instability and vulnerability.

Davis delivers an important message, reminding us of the inherent unsustainability of our current production systems and the detrimental consequences of unchecked industrialization on the natural environment. Davis calls attention to the urgent need for responsible and sustainable practices, urging us to reconsider our relationship with nature and the repercussions of our actions on the fragile ecosystems surrounding us. Davis delivers this political commentary, leaving us to wonder what changes we can make in our personal lives and collectively as a society to create a harmonious coexistence between nature and the human world—or whether that is even possible.

— Naima Nigh

In Kusile III, 2002 Cartwright, Cape Town III, Muholi presents themselves in a headdress and sash made of paper money. Traditionally indicating a position of high authority or the ruling class, a sash and headdress were commonly worn by rulers in the post-colonial era. By referencing that attire, here reconstituted with actual money, Muholi brings attention to the enduring dominance of the West over many African countries and their monetary systems. The artwork underscores the current reality in which financial constraints prevent many African nations from independently producing their own currency, leading to reliance on external sources like the UK and France, and perpetuating a vulnerability reminiscent of colonial subjugation. Muholi’s intentional incorporation of currency adorned with the portraits of mostly white men also draws attention to both the deep-seated socio-economic supremacy of the West and the lingering influence of patriarchal structures. The title of the work, the Zulu word “Kusile,” meaning “it’s crazy,” serves as a reminder of the ludicrousness of continued colonial legacies long after African nations gained independence.

— Naima Nigh

Since 1958, when the Shell Oil Company first started exporting oil from the Niger Delta, it has been one of the world’s top oil-producing regions. During Nigeria’s colonial era, oil brought immense profits for multinational corporations and the Nigerian government, at the expense of local communities. The enduring legacy of colonialism and current neo-colonial practices of using foreign investment for foreign gain, at the expense of local populations, is made possible by local and transnational economic systems including tariffs, sanctions, foreign investment laws, and wage regulations, all of which perpetuate poverty in the global south.

— Naima Nigh

Red Star’s art sheds light on the issue of indigenous visibility in popular media and history books, drawing attention to the intersecting systems of oppression that impact indigenous women and their labor. She contends with the workings of white supremacy, patriarchy, and capitalism, which collectively suppress and undermine Indigenous cultural heritage while devaluing women’s significant contributions, confronting the notion that Native culture and Native bodies are something to be consumed. Through her visual storytelling, Red Star fills in the gaps of history by incorporating Native voices and perspectives, prompting viewers to reflect on how popular culture perpetuates stereotypes and overlooks the Native perspective.

In the United States, Native American representation has long been characterized by objectifying and stereotypical portrayals, such as brave warriors or savages, wise elders or Indian princesses. Wendy Red Star consciously challenges these stereotypes in her work, using humorous tactics like including plastic leaves and inflatable animals in her dioramas to emphasize the deliberate construction of the image associated with Native peoples. In doing so, she challenges us to embrace a more accurate and inclusive portrayal of Native peoples.

— Naima Nigh

One union leader was also the leader of the homosexual miners in Serra Pelada. He was head of a large number of workers who gave and received affection, the only available source in this vast army of desperate men. He was brave, respected by everyone, and had but one dream; to find gold and to go to Paris. “There,” he said, “I will get artificial breasts. No one can do this operation as well as the French. The breasts of Paris are the most beautiful in the world, the very best silicones.” This was his dream, this was his enslavement.

— Sebãstiao Salgado, 1992

The men at Serra Pelada were driven by their dreams—to provide adequately for their families, to travel, to fully express their identities, or to lead extravagant lives—revealing the lengths people will go to for a better future. The image is taken from a distance, at a high viewpoint, making the workers appear small and emphasizing the vastness of the mine. At first glance, it is difficult to make out the human forms in the image, bringing attention to the dehumanizing conditions that people endured during the gold rush.

In the United States, the “American Dream” suggests that individuals can, through education and careers, raise their socioeconomic status. It is rooted in the belief that everyone has access to opportunities regardless of socioeconomic background, which fosters a culture of hope that anyone can achieve their version of success. The striving of the men at Serra Pelada can be likened to the American Dream, except that in Brazil, there are fewer opportunities to achieve upward economic mobility. Men were drawn to the mine of Serra Pelada because it presented a real opportunity for them to break from their socioeconomic background, as evidenced by Salgado’s reflection.

Salgado’s imagery captures the injustices and hardships endured by the workers of Serra Pelada in their pursuit of happiness. As a former economist, Salgado possesses a profound understanding of the socioeconomic systems influencing people’s lives. His reflection on those facing impoverishment in Gold Mine is not one of pity but rather a humanization of their experiences, shedding light on the pressing issues of economic disparity and wealth distribution.

— Naima Nigh

Throughout history, African nations have endured the harrowing consequences of exploitation and commodification, from the era of slavery to the present dominance of mining and oil. Toguo alludes to this commodification of resources and laboring bodies by placing himself, an African man, inside the oil barrel. The empty water bottle symbolizes the lack of resources available to African people despite their wealth of natural resources. Toguo’s photograph demands that we confront the international forces driving the continued abuse of African communities, while also urging us to hold African governments accountable for their role in perpetuating neocolonial practices of foreign investment for foreign gain. By skillfully blending humor with powerful symbolism, Toguo forces us to examine the intricate web of economic interests and complicity, calling for a comprehensive reassessment of how we address the deeply rooted issues of profiteering and corruption that persist in Africa and beyond.

— Naima Nigh