In the Studio: Nyeema Morgan

In the corner of a white walled studio with a plywood floor, a 6 foot yellow ladder stands at center, surrounded with various taped prints and papers hanging from the wall. Above the ladder in the corner are the words “sacred violence” mirrored above and to the side , wrapping around the corner. To the left is a black square with a large circle cut in center, and a blue circle within that like a bullseye, with a wooden dowel leaning against the center. To the right is a large print of a close up of a fragment of a page with cut-off text reading “extraordina evil”.
Morgan’s studio at Joan Mitchell Center, 2023. Photo courtesy of the artist.

Nyeema Morgan is an interdisciplinary artist based in Chicago. She is a 2016 recipient of the Foundation’s Painters & Sculptors Grant and was a Spring/Summer 2023 Artist-in-Residence at the Joan Mitchell Center. We interviewed her about her work and her residency in July 2023.

I’m motivated by my desire to understand the world we live in. Our humanity is fascinating and beautiful and horrifying and disappointing and everything in between. I’m in awe of our existence and what we’ve made, continue to make and will make of it, for better or worse. For me, my work is a wayfinder that brings me closer, empathetically, to the world, to my family (past, present and future), to you and to myself.

“Like It Is: Extraordinary Togetherness” is a drawing in a white frame that photorealistically reproduces a photocopy of an upside down askew open book, with italicized words “An Extraordinary Time”. There are distorted circle and bar shadows across the top, and a shadowy drip-like form down the right side.
Nyeema Morgan, Like It Is: Extraordinary Togetherness, 2022, graphite pencil on Coventry rag paper, 38 x 50 in. Collection of the Walker Art Center.

Much of my work is my response, through a series of observations and questions, to the social world. So my work is largely inspired by things I see, things I read or watch, conversations with my students, friends, peers, my kids. These observations and questions that precede the process of “making” are as layered and complex as the world, and they present that way in my work. Those observations lead me to think through, materially, certain questions. As an example, last year I made two sculptures—A priest, a rabbi and a minister walk into a bar. (the set-up) and A whore, a nun and a housewife walk into a barn. (the set-up).

”A whore, a nun and a housewife walk into a barn. (the set-up)” is an all-white sculpture. A vertical cuboid rectangle sits on top of a white rectangular base, and thick panels curve upwards away from the form at the bottom to expose the bar frame underneath. The left panel is marked at the top corner with indentations as if it has been grasped by hands, and on the left side are relief textures of decorative scrolls and leaves and a small round hole.
Nyeema Morgan, A whore, a nun and a housewife walk into a barn. (the set-up), 2022. Wood, polyurethane resin, paper, 52 5/8 x 28 x 18 3/4 in. Courtesy Patron, Chicago, IL and the artist. Photo: Evan Jenkins.
This detail of the sculpture ”A whore, a nun and a housewife walk into a barn. (the set-up)” shows a folded tent card reading in small script font “A whore, a nun and a housewife walk into a barn.” It sits on a flat glossy white surface with one undulating edge.
Nyeema Morgan, A whore, a nun and a housewife walk into a barn. (the set-up), 2022. Wood, polyurethane resin, paper, 52 5/8 x 28 x 18 3/4 in. Courtesy Patron, Chicago, IL and the artist. Photo: Evan Jenkins.

Those works began as I was watching and thinking about comedy—about psychology and catharsis. But those thoughts were swirling around ideas about identity and how systems of power are structured, reinforced. That particular type of joke I’m referencing struck me as peculiar, as a kind of identity based dialectic. And that train of thought led me to questions about storytelling and the identity of the teller and the receiver and how ideology is activated through our everyday encounter with images, objects and other forms of communication. And naturally, as an artist—particularly as a sculptor—how does the quality of material form affect us towards a certain way of feeling, being or interacting within a social order.

In a white-walled corner, are the words “sacred violence” mirrored above and to the side , wrapping around the corner. To the right, the top of a yellow ladder, and to the left is a tacked-up print of a linear illustration of a tree stump with a mirror and bait and a trap below reading “UNCOVERED STEEL TRAP SET FOR RACCOONS”.
Morgan’s studio at Joan Mitchell Center, 2023. Photo courtesy of the artist.

I started my residency at the Joan Mitchell Center in early July. My time here has been fairly short—28 days—compared to the duration of the rest of the cohort. But it’s been such a fruitful 28 days, spent mostly in solitude. It's by far the most concentrated time I’ve had in my studio in years. It's been wonderful, but not without difficulty—difficulty that’s not related specifically to this residency, but in shifting spaces and shifting ways of being present with myself and my work. I’m not a very social person and covet my privacy. In social spaces, I’m a bit unnerved, vibrating with this deep frenetic energy that I often don’t perceive until I’m alone for a long duration of time. When I came here, I didn’t account for that adjustment period. I was anticipating a fire to put out or something to get ahead of—something to mitigate. So I had fabricated a crisis of expectation in my studio. I overestimated how much I should do. I brought eight books with me and told myself I’d finish ‘X’ amount of works and have a huge breakthrough with some new work. Then I realized I didn’t need to do all that. By day 7, I finally felt at peace and realized there was no crisis to avert and that I could just be with my work, my questions, my whims.

During my residency, I’ve continued working on a body of drawings titled Like It Is that are a mainstay in my art practice.

A close-up of Morgan’s white gloved hands working with a blue pencil and orange triangle on white paper with outlined serif words reading “Extra C n”.
Nyeema Morgan at Joan Mitchell Center, 2023. Photo: Cfreedom Photography.

There are some new things that I wanted to do with them and this was the perfect place to take those risks. Something about having a fresh palette—clean walls, a space that’s not spilling over with other works, equipment and storage. I have corners that I can interact with! And the light in my studio at the Joan Mitchell Center is amazing.

This has been a great time for me to experiment and tease out the beginning of some new works, which will probably take the form of sculptures and installations. I’m playing uninhibitedly with materials and forms and text which is a real luxury—to have uninterrupted time and space to leisurely be in the studio for 9–12 hours a day.

A pile of trimmings from bright red, blue, and yellow foam sheets – in various visible corners of the cut sheets are cut out numbers reading “0” and “-1”.
Morgan’s studio at Joan Mitchell Center, 2023. Photo courtesy of the artist.

The residency has been a really transformative experience. One of the things I experienced almost immediately when I arrived in New Orleans was a sense memory. I grew up in the south from age 2 to 12. First, the staggering heat that was also familiar. The heat was so thick. Not the kind of heat you feel searing on your surface. There was so much moisture in the air. I felt more porous. It slowed me down in a way I had forgotten. Oddly, it was comforting, for someone who doesn't enjoy the heat. Then there was a conviviality among strangers. I had to remember to open my mouth and say hello, especially to elders while I was walking down the street. All of that remembrance and slowness impacted my being while I was in New Orleans and subsequently how I was in my studio. I thought more clearly in my studio, I worked more intuitively and could indulge in frivolous decisions without feeling like I was losing time or purpose. I guess I would say I felt more grounded in the present. It was a wonderful antidote to the hectic state I’m usually in. I’m hoping I can hold on to that when I head back home and to continue the work I started here.

Nyeema Morgan faces the camera wearing round gold frame glasses and a faded chambray button up over a green graphic t-shirt with a white glove on her right hand. She is a Black woman with short natural black curls around her crown and thin braids resting on her shoulders, and a pencil behind her ear.
Nyeema Morgan at Joan Mitchell Center, 2023. Photo: Cfreedom Photography.

Interview and editing by Jenny Gill. Learn more about Nyeema Morgan's work here.

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