My name is Xiomara Campos and this is me with my boyfriend in a vintage photo booth that definitely didn’t eat the only $30 I had left.

I go mostly by Xio and am currently a junior at Florida International University. I’m currently majoring in graphic design and minoring in both art history and computer science.

I was born in Miami, specifically Hialeah, and have spent most of my years here, while visiting Peru to reunite with my large family.

Art Encounter as Text

“Into the thick of it”

By Xiomara Campos of FIU in Miami, January 20th 2024

Though I’ve travelled a whopping 5,074 miles to experience the art in Florence, and another whopping 4,686 miles to experience the art in Barcelona, I still find it daunting to fit a 30 minute drive to Art Basel Miami in my schedule. 

The exposure I have had to local Miami artists is due to my prior experience working at the art gallery for Broward College and meeting several artists exhibited there.

The artists that inspired me most were the ones that would focus on social and environmental issues, more specifically issues of racial inequity. This type of art is what speaks to me the most in terms of what I hope to do in the future. Though art for art’s sake is also a philosophy I appreciate and respect, I find it more personally meaningful to attempt to bring about a disruption to the detrimental issues that remain persistent in society. If you could make your voice heard to shine a spotlight on what needs to be fixed and not ignored, I think it’s important to go for it.

Admittedly, I know very little about the Miami art scene. From what I’ve heard among some fellow classmates over the years is that the culture is becoming increasingly heartless due to the feverish need to increase the monetary value of pieces, as well as the spawn of new tech fads such as NFTs. This has discouraged me further from seeking what’s out there, which I now regret. 

After taking Modern Art History last Fall semester, I developed a deep love for expressionistic abstract art in a way I never thought I would. I cringe at the memory of the time I went to the MOMA in New York a semester before that class, and just shook my head while looking at Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, or scoffed at Dance (I) because I “didn’t get it”. I think I get it now, whatever it is, or at least I’m trying to, which is why I believe this class will further develop my love for this type of art that I was left yearning to learn more of. 

I always knew Miami was one of the hotspots for this art that I’m now excited by, but I haven’t had the chance to explore it since changing perspectives – until now. 

When I think of art I picture Guernica by Picasso since I can’t help but think of its historical importance due to writing an academic essay on it as my final. It’s a piece that moves me personally, and I know has moved countless others. 

My expectations of this class are extremely high as I know art moves me to take action towards issues I find important. I want this class to inspire me to make my own art and perhaps create something abstract and experimental for the first time. I’m most looking forward to visiting the Norton Museum, as professor Bailly said without hesitation that it was the absolute best museum in Miami.

Norton as Text

“‘I could do that too.’

‘…yeah, but you didn’t.'”

Going from admiring a Peter Paul Ruben study of a head with delicately perfected strokes, seamless understanding of lighting, and impressive use of color – to this DeKooning painting in the same day – was astounding. It makes a huge difference in viewing experience compared to what I knew before, which was viewing the same painting in 550 x 420 pixels aligned to the left of a powerpoint slide as I squint from 5 feet away in an uncomfortable chair.

I was thinking about the quote that is often said about how people denounce art for its ability to be created by anyone. However, artists that have been told this discovered an entirely new philosophy when it comes to art and technique. For the abstract expressionists, the days of wanting paint to blend so seamlessly so as to mirror life – was gone.

In De Kooning paintings, the art is self serving in my opinion. It’s not representational or attempting to be anything besides a canvas that encapsulated a man’s powerful gestures. There is no guessing how the artist could’ve created it. Instead it’s pretty simple, in fact these artists believed the painting was painting itself, and they were merely creating what was already being called to them.

This way of painting is so radical to me, and I can’t believe that De Kooning would keep paintings in his studio for years in order to continue this technique of creating and layering and contemplating the next gesture. So much so the that at the museum I could see the thickness of layers and paints that were mixed to different viscosities. I could see the moments the artist sharply took a pencil or knife and swiped some paint off. The artists hand was evident and immortalized.

I thought about how far art had come, how revolutionary this must have been for its time. I will always have a deep love for the Impressionists and post-Impressionists for being some of the first modern rebels, the great grandfathers that would lead to this. How they were ridiculed by the media and critics, only to later be regarded as some of the best artists to have ever lived.

I realized my love of this art is due to my ability to relate. ‘Rebelde‘ by parents used to call me growing up as I’d sneakily dye my hair a fiery red, and state proudly that I was an atheist on Noche Buena (bad idea). I’ve never been one to blindly accept truths, or to believe what was forced upon me. Thus, this art is an example to me of something that is shocking and anti-establishment. The Royal Academy of Art rolling in its grave. That’s why I believe I’ve come to understand that Modern Artists like De Kooning, or the Rebeldes, will always have a special place in my heart as other humans who took this sentiment I relate to and courageously take it a step further.

Margulies/Locust as Text

“Spiritual Crisis”

“L’Hospice” by Gilles Barbier is one of the works at the Marguilles Collection that I gravitated towards the most. This is mainly because I found elders in latex suits funny. After examining the year of its creation, which was 2002, I realized its context to be much deeper than I had originally thought. Following World War II, the U.S. experienced a period of economic prosperity, leading to the creation of superheroes whose personalities were based on optimism, stemming from a desire for escapism. This era witnessed a craving for clear morals and an idealized, hopeful vision of the world portrayed through superheroes, often embodying strong moral values and a sense of moral clarity against clear-cut villains.

However, after the 9/11 attacks, these sentiments shifted. The optimism of the Golden Age gave way to much darker themes reflecting the uncertainty and fear post-9/11. Superheroes now faced moral and ethical dilemmas, rendering them morally ambiguous and more realistic. This challenged the notions of heroism, reflecting the complexities of terrorism and political tensions. People sought more antiheroes – flawed and humanlike – to depict modern life and its atrocities.

Reflecting on how my Modern Art professor described this period as a reaction to a “Spiritual Crisis,” I pondered over paintings attempting to find God in nature or within themselves. In “L’Hospice,” I thought about iconic American figures symbolizing patriotism and national pride, focusing on the solitary Superman figure in the middle and back of the scene. My Literature teacher once pointed out a similarity – that Superman serves as a Christ-like figure, an alien on Earth dealing with issues of belonging, possessing a strong moral compass leading to saving others, and undergoing multiple personal sacrifices for the greater good. Considering Gilles Barbier depicts Superman as old and fragile with a walker in this artwork, it made me think that there was probably a spiritual crisis where people were losing faith in moral values that were once concrete. It reminded me of the phrase “God is dead” because if a God were real, how could such tragedies happen.

I appreciate that “L’Hospice” seems like a deliberate attempt to reintroduce escapism and humor, crucial elements during that tumultuous time. Art incorporating humor holds profound significance for me, revealing layers of meaning and insight beyond the surface, providing a poignant reflection on the universally understood complexities of the human experience through laughter.

Rubell Museum as Text

“The impact of Black Art in modern times”

Having visited the Rubell Museum twice before, the last thing I expected to experience during my third museum visit was something that I had never experienced before; tears.

Though I tend to express my sadness cautiously when discussing this topic so as to not take away from the very real lived experience of many black people in this country, as I am merely an observer, I will be discussing my emotions so to add to the sincerity that I feel when discussing these artworks.

I don’t remember if I saw this sculpture before in my previous visits. I may have just moved past it due to the rush of excitement after seeing a Basquiat piece in person. However, as professor Bailly explained the weight that Karon Davis’ Family had, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with emotion. I’ve never felt this moved by a physical work in my life. Yet, when professor Bailly pointed out the antlers in this plaster family’s union as a way of perhaps insinuating that they are being hunted, I could feel the blood rush to my face.

I learned so much about the politics, social structures, and U.S. history that caused and continues to cause immense generational, institutionally engrained harm towards Black Americans during the height of the Black Lives Matter movement. I was 18 years old and quarantined, feeling powerless behind a screen as I watched multiple graphic videos displayed on the news of black men and women being brutally murdered by police incompetence. It became incredibly important to me to always listen and uplift black voices in any manner I could.

During my time learning about art and what it tells us of humanity and history, it’s no wonder that art that discussing racial inequity and racial targeting will be critical to the art of our times. It’s an incredibly relevant topic that shows some of the most harrowing and intense emotion I’ve ever seen.

Davis’ Family resonated with me deeply. After experiencing the Marguilles Collection, I have come to understand that plaster has been used symbolically to capture a universal, intimate moment of living beings in a moment of stasis. The plaster being a bright, almost heavenly white is another symbolic aspect that I believe was fully intentional. It either signifies to me that this is a moment of complete innocence and loving intention, or that the beings that make up the family are almost mystical, an endangered species of animal despite being powerful, needing to stick as a community to survive from their predators. As professor Bailly pointed out, it’s a moment before sending your child off to school that almost universally, every parent could identify with. The fear, the uncertainty, the moment that your sheltered child must experience the brutal reality that you have tried your hardest to protect them from. This black family is experiencing this universal moment of uncertainty, with an added intense fear that is incredibly devastating for me to even try to imagine experiencing.

This experience that Davis creates as a still moment is a perfect example of the aggressive climate this country is experiencing. This work will live on as an example of the reality that Black Americans must deal with daily, of the fear and caution they must live with daily – of being hunted.

Artists like Kehinde Wiley take this aspect of Black history and instead turn it into a proud and highly aestheticized piece of art. Famous European portraiture of powerful caucasian figures is prevalent in all of history. I can think of Napoleon, or a few Kings I’ve seen in my classes. However, times are changing, the lense we used to view history through is changing, and Wiley is an example of modernizing this type of art to instead make black men in his work the center of power.

Lots of black art I have noticed tends to be vibrant, I think due to being an homage to colorful African textiles that then get implemented into decorational motifs in paintings. Wiley uses these loud, exciting embellishments as backgrounds to many of his paintings of black men in historically European poses to modernize the otherwise technically perfect, but bland realistic backgrounds of many landscapes seen in those works. Not only is he depicting these men as powerful, but they’re usually wearing clothing that is reflective of the popular street style that started among black communities and has become a prevalent part of Black American culture.

24HRNAILS by Alfonso Gonzalez Jr. does this well, as long, embellished nails are also a common beauty service among Black and Hispanic women. Sometimes labeled as “tacky” from other white counterparts (my own personal experience), I believe long embellished nails are not only a symbol of female empowerment – as often times it is a service women in underrepresented communities perform on each other – but also as a symbol of confidence in personal style.

What I love about Wiley is not only his way of painting unapologetic homages to black culture, but also specifically in Sleep where he does something that I believe to be revolutionary. He is not only making the black man the center of attention in this painting, but he is sensualizing him and making him appear graceful, soft, and elegant. After researching and reading about what many black activists have to say, due to generational trauma stemming from all the way back to slavery, black men have been associated with being strong, painless, and the antithesis of vulnerability. This would be a depiction that has been made in order to easily villainize the black man in media, to dehumanize him. There’s also many reasons as to why black men feel as though they have to uphold this ideal that activist Bell Hooks writes in All About Love.

However, Kehinde Wiley is showcasing a beautiful black man in a pose that is sensual, feminized, and majestic while maintaining the idealized beauty and power associated with a muscular physique. Wiley’s sexual orientation also plays a part into the power of this piece, as its a pose that I would usually imagine being held by a woman in history as her male partner paints her with loving or lustful eyes. Black same sex romance defies all notions of the previous stereotypes I stated of black men, which I think once again strengthens the commentary that Wiley is expressing. This painting is aesthetically beautiful without a doubt, and I was in awe when I had first seen it due to its immense scale, technique, and message, and I continue to be in awe of this painting as I think about it now.

• Artworks in image collage: Karon Davis – Family, 2019, Kehinde Wiley – Sleep, 2008, Alfonso Gonzalez Jr. – 24HRNAILS, 2024

PAMM as Text

“Back in time”

Leaving the museum, I fished out my phone, eager to dive into some tunes on Spotify as I made my journey to my car parked in a random parking lots a few blocks away. N.W.A. popped into my head, as professor Bailly and T Elliot had been discussing it before, so I typed it in and hit play. As the beat of “Straight Outta Compton” filled my ears, I stepped out into the vibrant scene of the dog park next to the museum. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the green grass where families picnicked, children played fetch with their furry companions, and elders sat on benches, joyfully feeding the birds.

It was a picturesque moment, made even better by the unexpected soundtrack blasting through my earbuds. As I strolled through the park, nodding my head to the rhythm, I couldn’t help but marvel at the juxtaposition of the serene surroundings with the gritty lyrics blasting through my headphones.

As I made my way through the park, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being transported to another time and place. The museum I had just left was filled with artifacts and exhibits that offered glimpses into different eras and cultures. It was like taking a trip through history without ever leaving the city.

One exhibit, in particular, had left a lasting impression on me. It featured tapestries adorned with intricate symbols, each one telling a story of its own. As I studied the designs, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of connection to the past. It was as if the people who had created these works of art were reaching out despite the years that have gone by. I thought about the political climate of before, and if it were truly that much different to today. It just proved to me how relevant and topical the issues expressed back then by groups such as N.W.A and Public Enemy are still being expressed by other artists today.

The polaroids scattered throughout the exhibit added another layer to the experience. They captured moments frozen in time, offering glimpses into the lives of people who had lived long before I was even born. Seeing their faces, their expressions, their joy before entering the club, brought history to life.

As I continued my journey through the exhibit, I was struck by the absence of bodies in many of the pieces. One artwork, in particular, stood out to me. It featured a lineup of golden basketball shoes. The absence of people in the piece forced me to confront my own assumptions and biases, challenging me to imagine the stories behind those empty shoes.

The theme of “othering” permeated the exhibit, manifesting itself in the robes and the overall atmosphere of the space. It was a stark reminder of the ways in which society often marginalizes and excludes those who are different from the norm. Who are the ones that are different, and whose the norm, and whose the one that decides who is part of which group?

Another piece that left an impression on me depicted a classroom scene, with rows of empty chairs and desks all facing white chalkboards adorned with white chalk. It was a reminder of the unfortunate persistence of racism, often passed down from generation to generation, perpetuating cycles of hate and discrimination.

The experience had left me with a newfound appreciation for the power of storytelling to connect us across time and space. I hope to continue to educate myself and be an advocate for the issues brought up in this exhibit, as I’m incredibly passionate about it.

Oolite Arts / Wolfsonian as Text

“Expressing culture in art”

It’s a grand privilege as an art student to be invited into the intimate spaces of artists and their perspective studios where creativity emerges. It feels like a glimpse into a world that I believe can seem so out of reach at times. However, what I have found with this class is that art is not just the words I read in a textbook, or the academic articles I find on certain artistic styles from different periods from a time when I wasn’t even alive.

Art, in a highly technical world that is slowly losing humanity due to Artificial Intelligence, is more necessary than ever. We’ve seen time and time again in history that when one movement happens, another counter movement happens to clash against it. Maybe there is a current technological Renaissance, and maybe that will lead to our own Dark Ages that follow, a period where the desire for humanity in all sectors is demanded and advances in technology become more rejected.

Either way, I have come to relish the moments where I’m not inside a classroom, under fluorescent lights and bright monitors. Instead, I’m talking to artists such as Diana Eusebio, who introduces me to an art form I have never considered in my entire life. Diana is a Peruvian-Dominican artist, which immediately caused me to be biased in how I view her work and gravitate towards it. I’m not sure if that makes me narcissistic, as I felt extremely intrigued and excited when viewing her art, thinking to myself “how come I’ve never thought of that?” Nothing is entirely new, and within the world of art, I have learned that those who are considered the “first” to do something become the ones that gain immense recognition. Diana, in my opinion, is doing something that I think is unique, a one-of-one.

I went home and talked to my parents about her art and asked about the insect that she had mentioned came from Peru, Cochinilla, which to my surprise was an insect that my aunt on my father’s side has been collecting and creating a business with to create skincare products. I’ve been on a journey to understand my background better, to reconnect with a culture that’s 2,608 miles away.

Diana’s art feels comforting to me; it’s a scene I’m used to, specifically her tapestry based on the picture of her as a 3-year-old at a water park with her family. I believed that the blurry effect caused on the satin from the dye enhanced its imagery of being a memory that was far in the past, however, one that held enough weight to bring to life. There are so many aspects to Diana’s process that inspired me; it felt like a whole world of possibilities that I had never known was introduced to me. From the ties to the methods of sourcing her material (cochinilla, Spanish moss), to the subject matter (Everglades scenery, childhood moments that tied to her Latin heritage), to the aesthetics of the vibrancy of the dyes she uses intentionally. The chemical processes being random, being exciting, and a scientific experiment each time, having a life of its own that was once held by the living thing such as the bug or plant that it came from.

Diana also uses Artificial Intelligence, but in her own way that I believe empowers her artwork, which I believe can be hard to do. Though I have an aversion to art using Artificial Intelligence, Diana uses it to conjure up images based on stories told from her that she can’t attach a visual to, old stories told to her from parents of a generation before her. I believe this is what advancements in technology were meant to do. They’re supposed to help humans in a positive way, one where creativity isn’t lost or there is an imminent danger. It’s a controversial topic, but in my opinion, what Diana is doing, intersecting resources given to this generation such as modern technology and tying it to ancient/indigenous methods passed down from Latin culture to source her dyes, is innovative and unique.

When telling my parents about her work and learning an aspect of my own extended family that I hadn’t known, I felt as though the art had done its job. Art about culture, about connecting with practices from your ancestors that are no longer practiced, encourages a look back at what wasn’t preserved. I had learned a piece of information that only my Peruvian family could hold, a piece I might’ve never known or appreciated or respected in the way I do now. I’ll continue to research Peruvian dyes and talk to my family; I’ll ask my grandmother and extended family what their experience is with dyes and fabrics, I’ll expand my scope of what knowledge my family has on this craft and keep this knowledge with me forever. Art is so powerful and important, and I believe this is an example of art being so powerful it connects me to my culture and my family.

Connection, humanity, evoking a conversation – isn’t that what this is all about?

Art Reflection as Text

My understanding of what art is has changed. I feel like it’s an ever-fluctuating term that invigorates me with a lust for life each time I find the term redefining itself in my head. I had my first real quarter-life crisis a bit early at 21 years old, as I felt myself so inspired and drawn to creating art after talking to the artists who have thrown themselves into the Miami contemporary art scene. I felt the need to discuss with my friends and family the importance of art, the way it encompasses what it means to be human. Art is everything; art is philosophy, spirituality, history, psychology, politics, business, community, social justice. There’s not a single sector that encapsulates humanity at its rawest form – and at the same time, the man-made systems that have been instilled around us – that I cannot find in art.

I feel abundantly lucky to live in Miami. In fact, I would go as far as to say that I’m deeply, deeply in love with Miami. I used to hate living here and swore the second I could, I would escape. However, I’ve learned about some of the history of this city along with the people who have been brought up from this history, and they have inspired me in ways I didn’t know were possible. I will now gladly drive however many miles and hours to keep up with some of the artists I met.

As someone passionate about the arts and its importance in representing the community of Miami, it’s impossible for me to justify not diving into the spaces where these artists need as much support as possible.

I find it bewildering how, before this class, during my first reflection, I thought of artists in Miami as cynical and heartless. I romanticized the eras of art before the one I’m in; of the Warhols, Basquiats, Van Goghs, of a time before me. Or the artists that live in New York, a city I thought was full of the life and excitement that I believed Miami didn’t hold. I believed that due to those stereotypes I had in my head, there’s not much art that’s current and near me that’s worth looking at. However, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

There’s so much for artists from Miami to show and tell. There’s a unique multicultural community that exists in this city with people who hold similar but at the same time entirely different backgrounds, who are the most intriguing people to learn about. We are existing in a time that is entirely unique, an era where over the span of a few months, millions of people have access to technology that wasn’t available to us years ago.

I was lucky enough to showcase a drawing I made in 2022 during Covid when my grandmother passed away. After that, I attempted to recover the intricacies of my roots since my grandmother, who had her own story to tell me, had passed. I discovered after talking with my other grandparents from my mother’s side and taking a DNA test that I was indigenous. More specifically, mestiza, a mix of Spanish but mostly indigenous Peruvian blood. I took a course last semester that involved looking at ancestral roots, and the understanding of the injustices that have plagued my indigenous ancestors remain persistent in my family dynamic and the attitude towards indigenous Peruvians even today. I made my piece to represent my exhaustion of trying to fit into quantifiable boxes of identity. Growing up in the United States, I struggled to identify with only one of my clashing cultures. I wear a poncho and combat boots to recontextualize my heritage with the alternative American subculture to form a transcultural synthesis. By embracing and integrating this part of my identity into life in the United States, I resist cultural erasure and prevent the loss of generational traditions passed down by my grandmother.

At the art show, many students came up to me and told me how they felt about my piece. To make art and have it mean something to someone might be the most groundbreaking moment I’ve ever experienced. To make others feel and hear what I had to say and to relate to it and tell me how they struggle with the clashing of their own identities definitely made me rethink what I truly want to do with my life.

I don’t know what my future holds, and it horrifies me. I have huge troubles with attempting to reconcile my love for technology with sustainability and social change and art and community. I see myself having a steady job, perhaps for a corporation or a smaller business. However, what I know for sure, and that has been reinforced due to this class, is that I will never ever leave behind my passion for the arts. I feel the most when I’m viewing art that a person has poured themselves into. And who am I to not support those that had the passion to devote their lives to their craft, a passion I could not feel enough courage to devote to myself.

I don’t know what the future holds; we live in a time full of uncertainty when it comes to politics, technology, the economy. All I know is that I will be at the heart of the community that has something to say about it. I want to continue to be touched to the point of tears, to be moved to a point that I want to take action and create my own art or discuss with my family.

There are many joys to life, and many paths to follow, however I feel as though I have been chosen to involve myself with art.

I love art. I have said I wanted to be an artist since I was as young as I could remember, and I will continue to love art and share the art of my community and those outside of my community until I grow old and find myself having all the time to make art of my own.