Carrie Mae Weems draws on narrative formats such as self-portraiture, social documentary and oral history to scrutinize notions of subjectivity in terms of gender, race and class. Her video installation Lincoln, Lonnie, and me is a meditation on the exclusionary mechanisms of the American dream. In one sequence, Weems intones a portion of Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address while spectres of Lincoln, a crying woman and a reenactment of the John F. Kennedy assassination flit across the screen. In another, segments of speeches by her fellow artist and activist Lonnie Graham alternate with images of race riots and bus boycotts. Between these scenes, Weems intersperses ghostlike appearances of athletes, performers and tricksters, thus commenting on how white culture has traditionally reduced Black identity to certain societally sanctioned roles and provoking viewers to confront their own complicity in the perpetuation of systemic racism. (Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco).

A cyclorama installation where artist Carrie Mae Weems addresses conditions of race in the United States. 'The Shape of Things: A Film in Seven Parts' includes old and new footage projected on a 180 degree curve, reminiscent of 19th-century theatre and spectacle to comment on the “pageantry” and “circus-like” quality of contemporary American political life.

In this performance for camera, Weems creates a ritual dance through the pillars of Peter Eisenmann’s ‘Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe’, completed in Berlin in 2005. Accompanied by the music of American composer Gregory Wanamaker, Weems appears and disappears, her fluid movement punctuated by short, sharp claps.

In one scene in Italian Dreams, we see a close-cropped view of Weems’s face juxtaposed with the visages of two young black women. She caresses their faces gently; a haunting melodic sound track plays. In another sequence, Weems— again dressed in black, but now in combat boots—walks through Rome’s Cinecittà. There, she meets a white man wearing a suit. He talks; she listens closely, then enfolds him in an embrace and engages in a slow, semi-erotic grind. But he is dull and stiff in her arms. It is clear Weems holds the power in this exchange; she shifts the paradigm of the seducer from male to female. From this scene she moves on, ascending staircases and wandering through corridors.

Afro-Chic explores the construction of identity through the presentation of several women wearing exaggerated Afro hairstyles and sassy attire as they strut down an illuminated runway.

People of a Darker Hue, 2016 Video, 14 minutes, 58 seconds © Carrie Mae Weems. Courtesy of the artist and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York.

People of a Darker Hue, 2016 Video, 14 minutes, 58 seconds © Carrie Mae Weems. Courtesy of the artist and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York.

"A great many conundrums." An assemblage of found footage.

An installation utilizing two adjoining screens mounted in a corner. On the opposing sides, groups of people protest for and against desegregation during the 1965 Boston riots, the looped news footage slowed to match the tempo of Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings,” the only sound.

A short film connecting contemporary state surveillance to histories of Black insurgency.