A stirring journey into the soul of a fractured America that confronts the enduring specter of white supremacy in our art, monuments, and public spaces, from a captivating new literary voice
Amid the ongoing reckoning over America’s history of anti-Black racism, scores of monuments to slaveowners and Confederate soldiers still proudly dot the country’s landscape, while schools and street signs continue to bear the names of segregationists. With poignant, lyrical prose, cultural commentator Irvin Weathersby confronts the inescapable specter of white supremacy in our open spaces and contemplates what it means to bear witness to sites of lasting racial trauma.
Weathersby takes us from the streets of his childhood in New Orleans’s Lower Ninth Ward to the Whitney Plantation; from the graffitied pedestals of Confederate statues lining Monument Avenue in Richmond, Virginia, to the location of a racist terror attack in Charlottesville; from the site of the Wounded Knee massacre in South Dakota to a Kara Walker art installation at a former sugar factory in Brooklyn, New York. Along the way, he challenges the creation myths embedded in America’s landmarks and meets artists, curators, and city planners doing the same.
Urgent and unflinchingly intimate, In Open Contempt offers a hopeful reimagining of the spaces in which we can pay tribute to our nation’s true history.
A really ambitious debut book that mixes memoir with cultural reflection. The questions here are so good and compelling. Some of the structure is confusing or clunky—needed a touch more focus. Overall interesting with some fantastic bits.
"The denial of justice is so common that grief becomes ritual "
America is racist and loves to show its racism through monuments. Every couple of years the government is shamed into removing some of them to placate people. If they actually cared about these matters it wouldn't take a brutal murder of Black person to do it.
In Open Comtempt is part a memoir of the author and part a history of racist government sanctioned art. It's a quick read and it didn't make me as angry as most nonfiction about racism does. Maybe it's because the author is more hopeful about this country then I tend to be but I did end this book feeling something less than horrible.
I only picked this book up because of its beautiful cover. But I'm happy I did. It's a quick and easy to read for non history readers.
"That's the thing with museums and art and public space, how they tend to overlap in purpose and symbolism, how art, when executed in concert with the natural world, raises the stakes and evokes sensations more powerful than can be felt in isolation. This is the force of monuments: they exist equally within the laws of location, time, and imagination. This is why they command our attention, if only we pause long enough to appreciate the experience." (p. 20)---Irvin Weathersby Jr., "In Open Contempt"
I'm not presumptuous enough to know what the average white supremacist thinks, nor can I offer a good explanation as to why white supremacists so vehemently oppose the destruction of memorials that glorify murderers, rapists, and slaveowners, although I can hazard a guess that it has something to do with the fact that they don't give a shit that these memorials offend the sensibilities of rational-thinking people, especially if those people happen to be non-white.
I can only presume to know how I---a non-white (which may be debatable to some, as I am, technically, half-white) person---feel about racist memorials: I think they need to be taken down. I don't like monuments that support or glorify racist systems or memorialize truly atrocious people.
Then again, I am not speaking from a black experience, nor as a person with a black body. I have never experienced that type of racism.
Irvin Weathersby Jr., a black man, has, of course, simply by being an American, experienced---and probably continues to experience, that type of racism. The black experience, and the contemplation of black bodies, is a constant for him. The American legacy of white supremacy is everywhere one looks. White people---and those of us who "pass" for white---take it for granted. Many people don't have this luxury.
Weathersby's book "In Open Contempt: Confronting White Supremacy in Art and Public Space" is a memoir that also straddles a fine line between art criticism and an anti-racist call to arms against the negative legacy of America's history (and policy) of white supremacy.
Whether one is protesting a statue of Jefferson Davis in a city park or visiting Monticello, Thomas jefferson's palatial estate in Virginia, the opportunities to speak out and enlighten others about white supremacy's still-powerful stranglehold on our culture abound.
Thankfully, according to Weathersby, consciousness is rising. More public spaces and memorials are revamping or offering a clearer "revision" of the official record, one that often mitigates or simply ignores the suffering of non-white Americans.
Sadly, pushback is inevitable. The next four years, especially, are going to be a trying time for non-whites, as white supremacy just got a stamp of approval during the November 2024 election. We must continue to be vigilant and protest racist policies.
An exploration of physical spaces and art, and how white supremacy infuses each. A lyrical, often meandering work that invites the reader to sit and think in their discomfort, to contemplate the art that moves them, the spaces they walk through.
This is a lot of memoir mixed with some art history and critique. A lot of poignant thoughts mixes with a ton of what-if scenarios and lived history. Do I think that it could have been more focused in places? Yes. Do I feel it was at times a bit too self-indulgent in the what-ifs? Also yes. Do I understand why these narrative choices were made? Absolutely.
I listened to the audiobook, but I think that the print book has pictures of the things he's describing, which I think would have enhanced my appreciation of the artwork (he does a really good job describing them though).
Anywho, a lot to think of in terms of how Black bodies are depicted by white artists (mostly white artists) and how that influences and is influenced by, white supremacist thinking.
It's definitely an invitation to think of what histories we promote and how—from statues of Confederate leaders (traitors) to racist depictions of Black people to how placards are worded to describe the image and historical context.
'In Open Contempt' is a timely book that challenges readers to reconsider the monuments that shape our everyday landscapes and the histories they represent. As a therapist, I found this book to be an invaluable resource for understanding how art, monuments, and public spaces can influence both individual healing, racial reckoning and societal transformation. This book is a gift—one that should be read, discussed, and held close as we continue the work of confronting and dismantling white supremacy in our world.
Weathersby takes readers on a journey across the U.S., reexamining the historical and cultural significance of monuments. This book is both a personal memoir and a broader commentary on the role of art in shaping our collective memory. Weathersby skillfully balances education with personal reflection, providing rich historical context for monuments not only in the United States but also in France and other countries he visits. He interrogates the ways in which art, especially art created by non-Black individuals, influences perceptions of Black identity and the engagement with Black humanity.
Weathersby’s personal journey, from his upbringing in New Orleans’s Lower Ninth Ward to visits to key historical sites like Monument Avenue in Richmond, Virginia, and the Whitney Plantation, adds a deeply human layer to the book. His analysis of these spaces isn't limited to their historical significance. He explores the interpersonal interactions and emotional toll of confronting these symbols of white supremacy. His reflections on sites like Breonna Taylor's apartment complex demonstrate how art transcends museum walls and becomes ingrained in the collective memory and imagination, shaping how we interpret what art actually means on a personal and community level.
One of the most powerful elements of 'In Open Contempt' is Weathersby’s emphasis on the importance of engaging with monuments and their stories as a way to understand our reality better. He reminds us that "only when we engage each other do we see things we can't physically and reinterpret the symbols." This act of engagement is critical to dismantling racism and reimagining our public spaces to reflect the true history of the nation- an ugly history but one we should not ignore. If we fail to engage, Weathersby warns, we allow racism to persist and spread, occupying even more space in our minds.
The book also touches on Weathersby’s personal connection to the art world, particularly through his reflections on artists like Basquiat and Kara Walker. His observations about Basquiat, whose immense talent and love for Black people were never enough for his critics, underscore the broader challenges Black artists face in a world that often fails to fully honor or understand them. The tenderness with which Weathersby writes about Basquiat’s struggles and untimely death demonstrates his deep respect for Black art and its power to tell the stories that monuments often erase.
One particularly moving chapter describes Weathersby's visit to the Pine Ridge Reservation, where he discusses the Crazy Horse monument with local tribe members. The monument, based on recollections from those who knew Crazy Horse, underscores the tension between historical erasure and artistic reconstruction. This exploration of Native American history and culture enhances the book’s broader theme of reckoning with America's brutal past and the importance of honoring truth in public spaces.
Ultimately, 'In Open Contempt' is a necessary book that challenges readers to reconsider the monuments that shape our everyday landscapes, the histories they represent, and the impact art has on our inner imaginary and interpersonal relationships.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
an insightful read with the perfect balance of personal narrative and historical research! this book offered a very expansive definition of monument that I thought was interesting. I also loved learning about so much New Orleans history and understanding more about the complexities of the city. Ambitious and thoughtful!!
This book was incredibly personal. Weathersby reflects on his experiences throughout his life starting from childhood, connecting them to the way he perceives art and monuments. He describes how artists have responded to white supremacy and created works that defy racist narratives. I recommend this book to everyone. It encourages one to reckon with their local and national history to work towards a better future.
Ok, lowkey I am back to change my review (for the better). I left this feeling like I wasn't fully understanding the central thesis. Admittedly, when a book is described as having "lyrical prose," I tend to struggle to follow the narrative. After sitting with it a few days, I understand. I think this book provided some excellent tools to facilitate discussion and challenge the racist mindset that remains an ugly cornerstone of modern America, as proven by some of the reviews like this one: "the enduring specter of white supremacy is in your head," posted by "Peter Z" with one star (comments limited). I am convinced the individual that left this review is simply an illiterate review bomber, and you can see that by checking out their history lol.
I think if this person took the time to read this book (rather than just the synopsis above), they would have developed just a smidge of empathy.
Honestly - this may sound juvenile, I freely admit - the only criticism I have for this book is that for a book on art there is a severe lack of pictures!
So many monuments and art installations/pieces are discussed and referenced yet there are maybe three photos in the entire book. This really could have been elevated if some images could have been added to help the reader see what was being referenced. The author does describe them all in detail but personally I would have loved to see accompanying images, especially as a number of the exhibits are no longer being displayed.
However; it doesn’t take away from the importance of the message.
I have a lot of thinking to do & a lot of traveling/visiting of artwork to do. Thanks to author Irvin Weathersby Jr. for contributing his art of writing & teaching as a way toward meeting & confronting our pasts, presents, & futures. I appreciate the conversation & the push. Recommended.
In Open Contempt is an amazing book. As an art historian, I loved the author’s exploration of physical spaces and material objects that reveal institutional racism, white supremacy, and prejudice, both subtle and overt. Irvin Weathersby investigates his personal history—the places he has lived, worked, visited—and our collective history as Americans and human beings; the result is a fascinating study that I hope becomes widely read. I loved reading about his travels through plantations and past monuments, asking questions and engaging in thoughtful dialogue—and I felt as if I was exploring and learning with him. As an educator, I cannot recommend this book more highly. Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the ARC and the opportunity to provide an honest review.
This book, which offers memoir, history, and cultural critique in equal parts, immediately reminded me of Clint Smith's How the Word is Passed and I think suffered for me a little as a result because it couldn't measure up in my mind to that absolutely magnificent book. That said, once my mind loosened its grip on the comparison a little, I was really impressed by this book, particularly as a debut.
Exploring the monuments that loom large in American cities and over American history, particularly the history of racism and segregation, the author adeptly ties his own experiences visiting locations across the nation with the events that took place there in the past and his own life (and the lives of other visitors to the monuments) in the present. While sometimes slightly unfocused in form and style, it's a thoughtful book about an important topic in contemporary life and art.
(Two chapters: Have you seen our sisters? and The deities of water and canebrake are 5 stars.)
In Open Contempt is a striking exploration of white supremacy in public spaces and efforts to correct this in recent history. Weathersby, Jr. masterfully unravels a narrative that confronts institutional hypocrisy while illuminating the intention of those who challenge it.
What stood out most to me was Weathersby's ability to weave historical context seamlessly into our contemporary context. The parallels drawn between past abuses of power and current events are both unsettling and thought-provoking. While the book takes on specific pieces of art and artists, it is at least 50% memoir.
Fans of memoirs, as well as Clint Smith's How the Word is Passed will enjoy this read.
✨ 4/5 stars- this book was nothing what i was expecting. for some reason i expected it to be a more formal piece i’d see in my art history classes- while it did have elements of analysis that i love (and weirdly miss), it was so much more. this book recounts an emotional telling of art in america and its impact on black americans has been so gut wrenching and largely rooted in white supremacy and racism. this book did an amazing job of telling a personal story while mixing with the academia of public spaces, art, and museums.
It's obvious the author put in the time and legwork required to do this topic justice. It is presented with both clarity and fairness--but also in such an authentic, personal voice. There were times I felt as if I were trespassing. From the buying, selling, and raping of enslaved people to the genocide of native Americans and the horrific lynchings (that were treated as entertainment), I can't help but feel this is what pedo-n-chief is harkening back to when he says make america great "again".
For a book with "Art" in the subtitle and visual representation at its center, there were disappointingly few images (all in black and white). Maybe they couldn't get the rights? Otherwise very good.
He, you, us—we are the conspirator, the messenger, the general riding off in a hurry to declare that our country is still at war with itself. The Confederates lost, but they failed to retreat. They have assumed other names and positions of power. See the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, Boogaloo Bois, and others. See the chambers of Congress, statehouses, and city halls nearby.
I heard about this book from Traci Thomas on the Stackspod where the author was a guest. It sounded from the discussion that this book would be similar to Clint Smith’s How the Word is Passed. I loved that book and I picked this one up thinking how could it be different- Weathersbey even discusses Clint Smith on his trip to Monticello, which is a seminal location for How the Word is Passed. The book is similar but different enough in its own way to make it an interesting and thought provoking read. The author teaches art history, and this book is focused on art objects as the context for examining cultural, political, and historical racism in America. I particularly enjoyed the passages about Mount Rushmore, the Crazy Horse Monument, the Confederate monuments, and the Kara Walker exhibit in Brooklyn. The author’s thoughtful analysis rendered in art history speak (formal analysis ) juxtaposed against his own experiences and interpretation provided an interesting and nuanced way to look at an issue that others have covered in a new and different way.
I love to read about how other people see things, what public space evokes in them. Sometimes it feels like the most essential project there is. The author’s personal experience makes him a well situated narrator, bringing us along for highs and lows. It’s a lot more than art and architecture and monuments, and I enjoyed being part of how he wrestles with representing barbarity because of the more personal sections on the Ninth Ward, on nearly joining the Marines, on teaching in Baltimore and Brooklyn, on his great grandmother.
In general, I’m not interested in picking nits when the subject is too noble to be weighed down by my ego. I mean if nothing else, it makes me look petty (ego still wins) but more importantly, I think they distract from the bigger point of a book. But I can’t resist picking these two here, I’ll be damned, and it’s totally my ego driving this. Because I’m connected to Baltimore and Palestine, here they are: 1) in all his years in Baltimore, why wouldn’t he include the National Great Blacks in Wax museum https://www.greatblacksinwax.org/ in this book? And 2) when listing the international places where George Floyd has been memorialized, he mentions Israel, but not Palestine. I read that sentence a few times to be sure - surely he knows of George Floyd’s face painted on the wall segregating Palestinians in the West Bank from Israel? Surely, surely that is a more full throated and sincere representation of what his face means?! It’s a coincidence that my own experience overlaps in this way, so I don’t want to elevate that incidence too much. But on the other hand, it made me realize that perhaps one reason this book languished on my side table for as long as it did is because there is something relentless about being inside someone’s experience, and I would have loved it if the conversations and different viewpoints, like he touched on in South Dakota and Venice, or at the Domino plant in Brooklyn, had been grappled with at greater length. If the other people had been fleshed out more. Then again, that may undermine what he was trying to do, to give other people and difficult conversations more dimension. But I found those to be the most compelling parts. The tension of unresolved questions and earnest, frustrating answers.
My god this is a beautiful book. Beautiful as to the skill of the writing in language and in invoking imagery. Beautiful as to the emotional journey we take with the writer as we meander through history and art and culture, stopping along the way to think about things, to see patterns of things, to consider what we are feeling when we encounter these things. And beautiful as to the nature of the book as not a description of My Summer Vacation but more along the lines of "This—this here is life. Come enjoy it with me, all the parts, the sweet and sour, the bitter and spicy, the rich umami and the sharp prickle of unknown tastes."
I've never met this author and never read anything they've written, but this was an invitation by a genuinely good human who is asking me to consider with him what it means in this life to be human, to see history, to have to comprehend both the beauty of art and the ugliness of life that is woven through the creations of our imagination.
I had no idea what this book would be like. I picked it up at the strong recommendation of a friend—who it turns out hadn't read it either but thought it would be a good fit for me! It turned into an accidental journey full of wonderous surprises and moment of genuine regret and sadness.
I regret that it is only as long as need be for the author to feel that it is complete, because I want more of this book and this experience and this mix of joy and grief that comes from our humanness.
Right now as I consider the reading of this book I am in the overwhelm. What am I feeling that is so big and brimming with something that I cannot name but that I want to have?
It might not be the book that brings you light or life, but if it does—then you can understand the joy I feel in having this moment in my life to read such stories and reflections.
Quite a thoughtful and incisive book on the topic of the monuments, histories, geographies that make obvious while attempting to hide the ongoing legacy of enslavement and anti-Black racism in the United States. It was difficult to read this in these early days of Trump 2, with the dawning sense of how truly fragile all the progressive shifts of the past few years are. The book itself asks that question however there is a sense of horror and urgency rising that isn't necessarily conveyed. History is told from today. What 'today' is, is in a massively uncertain flux.
The memoir portions were well-done and heartfelt. The historical portions were powerful in their precision, if scant. I am interested in how the questions and threads of this book could be stretched to a more international perspective (a topic the author touches on but does not dive inside of) however there was a moment which threw me and for which I knocked off the obligatory star: the author lists countries in which temporary memorials for George Floyd were erected and includes in the list Israel when the more appropriate term for the memorials in question would be Occupied Palestine. I don't know if that was a matter of word choice or if there's genuinely a blind spot here regarding the connection between the state oppression of Black and Indigenous peoples in USA and the state oppression of Palestinians in Israel. Something to be clarified, I hope, and included in the international lens that could be logically followed.
I picked up this book on a whim, and it was an excellent choice; the cover is absolutely stunning. As a college art major who created a documentary on the importance and impact of public art, I have a strong affinity for books on this subject.
Irvin Weathersby Jr. examines how public art both reflects and obscures America’s legacy of white supremacy. In his lyrical and incisive prose, he takes readers on a journey across the country, prompting us to reflect on the significance of monuments and memorials. From Confederate statues to Mount Rushmore, he urges us to reflect on what we choose to commemorate and the racial trauma tied to these locations. Having visited both sites, I share his profound discomfort with Rushmore being situated on stolen land. His insights on Monticello, which emphasize its stark contradictions, were especially powerful.
As the country grapples with its history, monuments dedicated to slave owners and segregationists remain deeply embedded in our public spaces, perpetuating narratives that often overlook the suffering they represent. Weathersby’s exploration is both urgent and deeply personal, providing a hopeful vision for how to honor our history while creating a more just future.
This book stayed on my mind long after I finished reading it. Weathersby’s insightful commentary makes complex discussions about public art and historical memory accessible and essential. I don't usually say this after finishing a book, but I would love to meet him—I believe we would have an incredible conversation. Public art is one of my passions, and I was thrilled to recognize many locations the author references.
Weathersby Jr's book should be on every essential reading list because it's about so much more than just him going up to white supremacist monuments that have been taken down and exploring what it feels like to be in that space. For one thing, there are white people 'guarding' those spaces in many cases and explaining to him why they're doing 'God's work' and any number of the most un-Christian things that they're convinced in their warped minds are Christian. There are so many more examples throughout this book of the author not just confronting which -- I mean, it's in the title, so of course confrontation is a huge part of it. But there's also a deep interrogation of what it means, looking at how the piece got there, and why, who put it there, who funded it (*coughs* United Daughters of the Confederacy *coughs*) but also, what it represents in a landscape since 2016 where president number 45, convicted felon and liar and cheat and soulless heartless excuse for a human being that he is, how does our interpretation of things change after something like that. How do we get to undertsand that we've been prevented from seeing truths that were in front of our eyes the entire time. It doens't have to be noticing something overt like Confederate flags, but it can be something like bunting flags, or other things where, when you re-watch media that was made prior to that, you realize the radical shifts and changes and how much more meaning these things have taken on since that time.
This is such a generous work of conversation with the reader. Irvin Weathersby Jr. offers such vulnerability in his reflections on the history of the country, an enormous undertaking that he breaks into a series of more manageable chapters taken monument by monument, where sometimes the monuments are the ghosts of what was and what might be.
I found the book moving, inspiring, and just beautifully written. I also found myself down many Google rabbit holes as I learned about events, historic and recent, that I had overlooked or missed in the never ending daily news cycle, or that I had simply not taken the time to examine more deeply.
The subtitle of the book (Confronting White Supremacy in Art and Public Space) initially gave me the impression that this might be an academic text, and certainly this is well-researched and the work of someone not just passionate about the subject but also extremely invested in the work of the subject and its study. However, this book was much more accessible than I had initially guessed based on the title and (incredible) cover alone- anyone could read this book, and I truly believe everyone should, particularly anyone with an interest in art, history, or humanity as a subject.
Personally, I look forward to sharing this book with my father-in-law, a Civil War reenactor and history buff who works as a National Park Service guide.
In Open Contempt is a personal examination of the intersection of art and, especially, memorials and white supremacy.
As someone very interested in the sociological and historical aspects of memorials and memorization, I was keen to read Weathersby's book. While the content and analysis of the book were very interesting, I wish there had been more photos of the work and I wasn’t expecting the book to be so focused on his personal relationship and feelings about these spaces. Example, when viewing a piece of art, he would often comment that he would make some sort of audible exclamation but not dig in as deep as I would expect into why. That’s my personal hang-up, but it made me want to look up some of the other more social history focused works covering similar topics. Having said that, once I understood that this was more an autobiographical journey, I did find Weathersby’s thoughts about the intersection between how public art interplays with the individual view’s own experiences interesting, if a bit too surface level for my expectations.
“The words we the people, occupied an entire wall in the first gallery displayed as a droopy calligraphy of colorful shoelaces and seeing them up close I realized they dangled from hundreds of tiny holes drilled into the wall like an incredible game of connect the dots. A few well placed tugs could easily dismantle the tangle of threads which I know is true of what the words signify. Flawed in its foundation, the image makes you remember that the promise of America came with conditions. The metaphor of a nation tripping over its laces as it marches forward is too obvious. Suffering one injury after another: sprained ankles, scuffed knee, broken wrist, minor set backs for the white masses that amount to devastating losses for we the not people or the three-fifths people or whatever calculus they divise to strip away our humanity.”
Not perfectly written, but ambitious in the questions it poses. Had this been presented as an art book with prints of the pieces and monuments discussed next to the essays the author wrote about them I think this would have been incredible.