Fred Wilson's Reflection of Past and Present Draws in Visitors

As visitors enter the Folger’s new Shakespeare Exhibition Hall from the west lobby, before discovering the playwright’s stories and related artifacts in the interactive galleries, a majestic black mirror centered on a scarlet wall beckons them to take a closer look. Created by artist Fred Wilson, this ornate looking glass anchors the artist’s new installation for the Folger, one of three new contemporary artworks commissioned for the building renovation, which also include a poem by Rita Dove and Anke Neumann’s paper sculpture Cloud of Imagination.

The title of Wilson’s installation, God me such uses send, Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend, is spoken by Desdemona in Shakespeare’s Othello, a tragedy that follows the triumphant rise and harrowing fall of a character whom Wilson refers to as “the most famous Black Venetian that never lived.”

The mirror is one of several black glass sculptures the artist has created since 2003 that reference Othello. These works, which include droplet and puddle-shaped forms, chandeliers in addition to mirrors, have been shown in museums and galleries around the world.

Wilson’s newest creation anchors a three-part installation he designed for Folger visitors to reflect on histories both seen and unseen, imagined and actual. This intimate space exhibits the elaborate five-foot tall mirror alongside an engraving of Shakespearean actor Ira Aldridge as Othello and an opulent painting of Elizabeth I. Together, the elements create a geometry of dialogue to challenge and welcome new perspectives on classic literary works and historical representations.

A Different Beauty

Born in Bronx, New York, Wilson has spent his career interrogating race, history, and culture through an interdisciplinary art practice. His artworks surface and reposition often overlooked narratives, calling viewers in for a more direct gaze and deeper investigation.

His work with black glass sculptures expanded while representing the United States at the 50th Venice Biennale. Here, Wilson began to explore the presence of Africans in Venetian history during the Renaissance and merged Shakespeare’s saga of Othello with the glassmaking practices of Venice’s Murano Island. His Venice Biennale exhibition, titled Speak of Me As I Am—a line from Othello’s final speech—featured the first all-black chandelier ever made by Venetian glass workers, whose decorative glass production dates back to the 13th century.

“It was a shock to the Venetian glassblowers that I used black glass,” Wilson says. “It was never used before, and you can understand why.” A chandelier sends color and light around the room, he says, but “black does not do that. It has a different beauty.”

Revisiting Othello

For Wilson, his readings of Othello over the years have conjured questions and fascinations about how blackness was perceived during Shakespeare’s time and how the story of an outsider in a foreign land continues to captivate. “The fact that it was written so long ago and so thoughtfully but also resonates over time like it does, makes you wonder what that time period was like,” he says. “Was it just Shakespeare or were Venetians aware of blackness? How did they see it? It just intrigued me.” The play continues to inspire his musings on identity and belonging, key aspects of so much of his artwork.

Although Shakespeare’s Black general has fewer lines than any of his other tragic protagonists, such as Hamlet and King Lear, his appeal has endured across cultures for 400 years, says Patricia Akhimie, director of the Folger Institute, who’s currently editing a new edition of Othello for the Arden Shakespeare.

Othello is “the first character in English literature, on the English stage, who self-identifies as a Black person and even uses that terminology to describe himself,” Akhimie says. “And the fact that he is personable, funny, brave, valiant, and admired for these qualities, not just by audiences and readers of the play, but by the characters within the play, is really compelling.”

The story reveals both expansive and narrow-minded ways people may have viewed blackness at that time, suggesting that audiences “should be interested in the character of Othello, perhaps, first and foremost, because he is Black,” Akhimie says, “and that’s very disappointing because it’s a really simplistic, stereotypical view of humanity.” On the other hand, Othello shows how Shakespeare’s Venetians observe the racial and cultural diversities that exist within this bustling port city and approach those differences with a bit of curiosity.

“That’s how the play unfolds,” she says. “It’s an exploration of blackness. What might we discover if we try to look inside of a person whose body is a spectacle before it’s anything else to his society? That feels like a familiar story for Americans today.”

A History Making Performance

Such questions can be explored through the story of actor Ira Aldridge. Born in New York City in 1807, Aldridge performed with the city’s African Grove Theatre company, but left for London in 1824 to pursue acting opportunities that racism made impossible in the US. He eventually gained success starring as Othello in performances throughout Europe, becoming the first Black man to do so in 1825 after the role had been played by white actors in blackface for 200 years.

Drawn to an 1854 engraving in the Folger’s collection that prominently featured the Black actor posed as Othello, Wilson felt it was important to expand the narrative and make room for Aldridge’s presence in his installation. This image, one of 40 items about the actor in the collection, is paired with a page of lines from Othello’s Act 3, scene 3—handwritten and autographed by Aldridge. The lines in longhand were meant to “breathe some life into him,” Wilson says, “even if it wasn’t always his voice.”

Centering stories such as Aldridge’s gives Folger visitors an opportunity to understand Shakespeare’s legacy in new ways.

“Wilson’s work on blackness and on what is forgotten in history and historical collections is especially resonant for us because our collection documents the history of Shakespeare,” says former Folger Director Michael Witmore, “but there are many histories around Shakespeare that have been left out or that are poorly documented. One of the most powerful and interesting ones is the history of African Americans who have been performing, appropriating, and rewriting Shakespeare for over two hundred years.”

“Any portrait of Elizabeth I that has survived is significant and rare,” says Greg Prickman, librarian and director of collections and exhibitions at the Folger. “This is an era that, unlike our own, was not in any way saturated with imagery, so the presence of an image like this would have been created for a variety of reasons—all related to projecting power and establishing authority. Fred’s piece forces us to look at this painting as who we are and where we are today.”

Peeking just over your shoulder inside the black mirror, is the queen with her face painted in stark white makeup, wearing a jeweled gown, and holding a sieve as a symbol of virginity. Her red dress mirrors the vibrant red wall. The extravagance of her gown is reflected in the whimsy of the mirror’s floral accents. Behind her right shoulder, a globe— showing the continents of Africa and South America—points toward British imperialism. The Latin phrase shown above the globe, which translates to “I see everything and much is lacking,” indicates her desire for dominion.

“As I grew to understand her relationship and her world,” says Wilson, “the globe became important in that all these characters were traversing the globe. Ira, coming across the water to change his life, and Shakespeare’s ability to look beyond the British borders to create characters and scenarios that he made up. They were very global in their ability to reach out and touch everyone.”

Podcast | Fred Wilson on his Othello-inspired work for the Folger

A Moment of Reflection

At the end of Othello’s Act 4, scene 3, Desdemona has a conversation with her handmaiden Emelia. It’s a rare moment in this play in which two women speak to each other alone. Sensing that something’s amiss with her husband Othello, Desdemona says the line that gives the installation its title, “God me such uses send, / Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend.”

Send me this ill usage, she says, and rather than use it to compare good and bad, I will use it to better myself. “That is an interesting way to close the scene,” says Akhimie, “because it strikes me as a moment of reflection, which echoes with the mirror and the moment of the installation.”

When choosing this line, Wilson saw the verse through the eyes of Queen Elizabeth, contemplating her tumultuous upbringing and the power she wielded as a woman. Visitors could also interpret the title through the perspectives of Shakespeare, Ira Aldridge, or anyone else now seeing themselves reflected at the Folger through Wilson’s work. Is this a statement of self-defeat or a declaration of self-determination? Only the viewer, upon closer look, can decide.