Up against the wall

Up against the wall

While the nuclear family laughed along with Ozzie and Harriet,
thousands fought and died to make the words of civil rights
legislation a reality. With the new exhibit, "Appeal to this Age:
Photographs of the Civil Rights Movement, 1954-1968" the Museum of
Tolerance brings this struggle to life in a way no history book
can.By Nisha Gopalan

People associate the 1950s and 1960s with images of the American
ideal depicted by the media in the form of "Leave It To Beaver" and
"Father Knows Best."

But many photographs of that time fiercely challenge
sugar-coated notions of America by revealing the racial prejudice
of the times, capturing the violent images of racism and the fight
against it.

The Simon Wiesenthal Center’s Museum of Tolerance currently
features over 75 black and white prints in an exhibit entitled,
"Appeal To This Age: Photographs of the Civil Rights Movement
1954-1968."

During the same time that Beaver Cleaver grew up on national
television, the Supreme Court ended the legal segregation of
schools with Brown vs. the Board of Education of Topeka. Although
legally African Americans’ civil rights appeared progressive,
little actually changed, and the civil rights movement and its
leaders fought fervently to make progress.

The exhibit features photographs of several civil rights leaders
such as Martin Luther King Jr., Ella Baker (leader of the
Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party), Stokeley Carmichael (whose
speeches popularized the "black power" slogan), Fannie Lou Hamer
(also leader of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party), Rosa
Parks and Malcolm X.

Unlike history books, "Appeal to This Age" does not just
represent these leaders two-dimensionally. Instead, it puts into
perspective the relationship between these individuals’ efforts and
the movement as a whole. Together, the exhibit provides a historic,
social and artistic insight that captioned photographs and short
paragraphs in textbooks cannot convey.

A history book calls for a "cognitive response, an
eyebrow-raising (experience)," says Gerald Margolis, director of
the Museum of Tolerance. This exhibit, however, evokes an
"affective response, from the heart."

At the same time, "this exhibit tries to communicate the
humanity involved (with the movement)," Margolis adds.

Humanity, indeed, appears to be the major concern for every
photographer in the exhibit The subjects of the photographs are
real. A moving story accompanies every photograph.

In Benedict Fernandez’s photograph of "Martin Luther King’s
Children Viewing His Body Lying in State, Atlanta, April 6, 1968,"
a wide-eyed and open-mouthed young Berenice King looks into the
coffin at her assassinated father. The sight of this innocent child
awakening to the reality around her makes the viewer’s mouth fall
open too.

Photos of a similar vein bring to life the ordinary people who
fought for the same cause as the civil rights heroes. These photos
capture images of other crucial movements within the civil rights
movement, like the religious devotion and civil actions of
African-American Muslims, civil rights marches and the endurance
against white resistance to racial integration.

The photographs leave the viewer in awe of the vast number of
people involved in the movement. A photo of the 1963 march on
Washington, D.C. shows the large rectangular lawn before the
Washington Monument densely covered with civil rights activists.
Whether by irony or intention, the activists face the memorial to
Abraham Lincoln, slavery’s great emancipator. Yet the viewer cannot
help but sense a tinge of sarcasm, for although the Emancipation
Proclamation abolished slavery 100 years before, it did nothing to
end racism.

Other photographs reveal the brutal treatment of (often
nonviolent) protesters by depicting firemen blasting demonstrators
with water and police unleashing dogs to attack demonstrators.

In one particularly disturbing photograph, a law officer ­
wearing a suit and tie, with his hair slicked back and a cigarette
in his teeth ­ demonstrates his "billy club swing," to the
amusement of other white men who observe and imitate him.

W. Eugene Smith’s photograph features a Ku Klux Klan meeting,
"photographed by the light of the flaming cross." The destruction
of a Christian cross in flames, although meant to symbolize the
Klan’s faith, seems instead to signify the Klansmen’s perversion of
Christianity. A glance at the Klansmen in their robes, like ghosts
who haunt America with memories of lynchings, sends chills up one’s
spine.

Gordon Parks’ "Emerging Man" hints at the brutal treatment of
many African Americans during this time ­ as herded animals
rather than humans. An African-American man peeps out of a sewer as
if he were some underground creature. The viewer sees only his head
from his upper lip up and his hands supporting the sewer plate over
his head. The caption reveals that the photograph pays homage to
Ralph Ellison’s novel, "Invisible Man."

"I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see
me," Ellison writes.

Richard Avedon’s portrait of William Casby does just the
opposite. While the majority of the exhibit fixes the viewer’s
attention on images of the struggle for racial equality, an extreme
close-up of Casby prevents the viewer from seeing anything but the
stubbly-faced old African-American man with big, floppy ears a
grouchy expression and sad, glazed eyes. Below the photograph
reads: "William Casby, born into slavery, Algiers, La., March 24,
1963."

The photograph and its caption seem to imply that while Casby
might have lived to see the end of slavery, he will not live to
experience the end of racism.

Perhaps the exhibit’s greatest tragedy is that the viewer may
not live to see the end of racism, either.

EXHIBIT: "Appeal to this Age: Photographs of the Civil Rights
Movement, 1954-1968" running now through Dec. 30 at the Museum of
Tolerance, 9786 W. Pico Blvd. For more info and advance tickets
call (310) 553-8403.