Black fatigue? The pivot to identity-free Black art

When Black portraiture becomes too charged, the art world shifts to abstraction—but the power dynamics remain unchanged

The art world lost a towering figure recently with the passing of Koyo Kouoh, curator of the 2026 Venice Biennale. For those unfamiliar with her work, this remembrance shares her impact. Kouoh's legacy reminds us that curatorial vision can reshape how we understand art's relationship to power and identity.

Koyo Kouoh. Photograph © Mehdi Benkler, BAK/the Guardian

This loss feels particularly poignant as we witness another cycle of visibility and invisibility playing out in real time. Thomas J. Price's Grounded in the Stars (2023) in Times Square has sparked conversations about Black representation in public spaces. The work is obviously important—as I discussed with Thomas in our 2021 podcast conversation it speaks to monumentality, presence and the reclaiming of public space. But the conversation surrounding it also reveals something troubling.

There's validity in the argument that as Black women we are increasingly deployed as emblems of progression, while the structures that hold us back remain unchanged. We become the face of social, cultural and political reform while doing the heavy lifting of actual change. Legacy Russell explored this phenomenon in our conversation about her book Black Meme, particularly regarding how Breonna Taylor's image was endlessly replicated after her murder. As Legacy observed, we need to "slow down and to reflect on why it is that we feel entitled to share material specific to these various moments that continue to happen to black people without asking questions about agency." Where is the agency in endless reproduction?

This connects in part to the current moment around Thomas's work in Times Square. The image of Black women—real or imagined—becomes a symbol of honouring while we remain fundamentally unhonoured in reality. We also see this in the deployment of the "strong Black woman" trope, the revered figure placed on pedestals both literal and metaphorical. But unless that reverence is replicated in reality—in wages, in safety, in institutional power, in genuine respect— is there only so far this symbolic honouring takes us before it renders itself meaningless? Have we become decorative solutions to structural problems?