The Studio Museum in Harlem’s artist-in-residence program has a storied history. Since its start in 1969, some of the most prominent Black artists working today have held residencies. More than 150 artists have participated in the program, working in media including painting, drawing, sculpture and performance.
The seven-month fellowship was conceived for visual artists of African and Afro-Latin descent. In the 1980s, the museum’s director, Mary Schmidt Campbell, formalized the program, standardizing its length and the number of artists.
Three artists are selected each year from a pool of applicants. (In 2020, during the pandemic, four residencies were awarded.) Those selected get studio space in the museum, a stipend of $37,500, along with regular visits with museum staff members and arts professionals from outside the museum.
Since its inception, the program has addressed a gaping deficit in the art scene: a dearth of platforms that support artists of color striving to find their way through a thicket of financial, familial and personal obligations, while making the art that’s true to their vision.
On the occasion of the museum’s reopening — the residency program remained open while the museum was closed for renovations — The New York Times spoke to alumni. They provide a glimpse of what their experiences were and why this program is critical to Harlem, the New York art scene and the art world. These are edited excerpts from the conversations.
Sana Musasama (1983-1984):
It was my first exposure to being in a museum. I was exposed to brilliant Black women curators [Deborah Willis, Terrie Rouse, Cheryl Lynn Bruce, Mary Schmidt Campbell], who had focused on a particular place in history and were articulate about it.
My education in ceramics had been very linear. Everything was tradition. These curators would speak about a particular time in history and the Black gaze and how they looked at things, and it expanded my worldview, and was like food for me.
I was intimidated because I didn’t know what they knew, but they were gentle and they held me by the hand. One of the curators, Deirdre Bibby, became my mentor, my guide and my best friend.
One memory was being around Alison Saar and James Dupree, who worked with various materials. I only worked with clay, so watching them, I began to think about other materials that could speak my language. I would think about dirt, about hair, about wool, about metal — think about my vocabulary because ceramics was so linear and what you learned according to tradition was not to mix them. They opened that window for me. I began to think about other materials besides clay.