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How It Feels to Flee LGBTQ+ Persecution: Kendra Frith Shares Her Story

By Abby Stuckrath

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine here.

Elated over her success in organizing the first Jamaican Pride celebration, Kendra Frith drove home believing she made a difference for her conservative community. It wasn’t until a police officer pulled her over that her bubble of hope burst. 

She remembers the officer gesturing to the backseat, asking why she had a pride flag. “He said I should be careful because it could have been a different police officer, and things could have gone differently,” recalled Frith. 

It was this moment that made Frith begin to seriously question the role of the Jamaican Police to serve and protect all persons in the country. “It made me feel threatened,” she said.

Still, when Frith bought her round-trip ticket to the United States two years later, she had no intention of leaving home for good. Eight years after arriving, Frith has yet to board her return flight.  “I came to the U.S. on a round-trip ticket just to chill,” she shares. “When I was here, things just got worse back home, and I was like, ‘Okay, I can’t go back.’”

With the help of the Rainbow Railroad—a nonprofit organization dedicated to assisting LGBTQ+ individuals escaping state-sponsored violence—Frith was able to stay in the U.S. and request asylum. 

“I wanted to stay [in Jamaica] and help make my country better,” says Frith. “Nobody wants to leave their home and leave everything behind.” 

Frith’s brother, Christopher, said her departure was devastating. “It was not easy watching her leave,” he says. “It was extremely difficult for not only me but our entire family.”

Even with the help of Rainbow Railroad, Frith’s transition wasn’t smooth. Living in New York City as an undocumented immigrant was extremely isolating. After three years of constant workplace abuse and missing the death and funeral of her grandmother, Frith attempted to take her own life. “I ended up in the hospital, and I was there for two days. After I started to get therapy, I realized that I have a new chance at life,” says Frith. 

Frith’s new chance began with moving to Virginia and later working for the same organization that helped her stay in the United States, Rainbow Railroad. As the Senior Engagement Officer, she helps refugees settle into their new lives and offers them the support system she didn’t have. 

But Frith isn’t new to the LGBTQ+ advocacy scene; back in Jamaica, it was her entire career. She worked with Jamaican LGBTQ+ organizations JFlag, Color Pink, and WE-Change. “I’m glad that I was able to be part of that organization, but it’s also the reason why I am no longer in Jamaica,” says Frith. 

Virginia brought Frith more than just a job. It also introduced her to her partner, Kelly Richards. Richards also fled Jamaica due to multiple threats against her life as a masculine-presenting queer woman. Introduced by Frith’s uncle, Frith helped Richards build her U.S. asylum case. 

“I fell in love first,” Richard shares. “Her personality and willingness to help made me want to hold on to her.” 

From assisting her partner to becoming a mentor to new Rainbow Railroad refugees, Frith loves helping others bear the burden and stress of starting over. 

Frith remembers welcoming the first member of their program at the airport. She recalls him running to her and falling into her arms, desperately crying thank you over and over again. “I was just like, ‘Okay, this is it, like this is it.’ The hug was like a weight. I was able to take something away from him,” says Frith. 

After eight years in the United States, Frith’s asylum case is still pending. Nowadays, she connects to her Jamaican roots by eating Richard’s delicious curried goat recipes and listening to old-school reggae.

Increasing Queer Wellness and Mental Health With Coming Out Happy

By Abby Stuckrath

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine here.

Growing up in a religious community in Colorado, Keely Antonio never imagined that she could lead a fully authentic life as a queer woman.

“A lot of my journey was suppressing who I was,” Antonio told Tagg. “I didn’t understand what it meant to free myself and step away from the judgment and the doubt.” 

Coming out as queer was the first time she truly listened to her body. “It really shaped my understanding of wellness and what it means to listen to your needs,” says Antonio. 

Antonio’s journey as a queer woman motivated her and her partner, Dani Max, to create Coming Out Happy. The company helps LGBTQ+ individuals become more fulfilled and empowered versions of themselves. 

Coming Out Happy originally started as an LGBTQ+ rainbow mask project during the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. But one viral Instagram post quickly transformed the company into something more. 

“I made a video saying that my partner is doing great things for the LGBTQ+ community and that everyone should follow her on Instagram,” says Antonio. “It got hundreds of thousands of views and hundreds of people to join the membership program.” 

In an effort to connect and support queer people during a time of such stifling isolation, Coming Out Happy evolved into a community-based membership program where Max and Antonio provided life coaching and therapy sessions. 

The pandemic taught them how important fostering and creating community is, “especially in a society that’s so individualistic,” Antonio says.

Coming Out Happy has now served 200,000 queer adults across the world. The company now offers wellness support through podcasts, workbooks, live coaching sessions, and virtual programming.

Last summer, their online network and services finally added in-person events. The San Diego Self Love retreat was their first in-person venture. Antonio says that participants flew in from all over the country for a weekend of intentional yoga, group discussions, and “the most queer joy that you could imagine.”

To foster a more diverse and inclusive space during in-person events, Coming Out Happy offers a BIPOC scholarship program. They funded four full-ride scholarships for the San Diego retreat. Earlier this month, Antonio and Max held another successful event, their Winter Queer Leadership Camp. 

Additionally, for those unable to attend their in-person events, Coming Out Happy offers a virtual program called the “Pride Amplified Six Week Course.” The website describes the course as an “​​On-demand program for queer adults designed to help you ditch insecurities, connect with the most confident version of yourself, and create a solid foundation for healthy relationships.” 

Antonio recalls one of her most memorable patients from her course, a 50-year-old woman who recently left her husband. After a decades-long heterosexual relationship, she was eager to explore her queerness. 

“She came in with a lot of shame and didn’t know how to join the community,” says Antonio, who works as the woman’s therapist. 

Years later, she has created a blooming network within the LGBTQ+ community and started her own queer-centric business. 

“It was so amazing to see her tap into her community and relationship and go and make an impact,” beams Antonio. 

Antonio shares that beginning your journey in self-empowerment can start with finding just one person to connect with. “Sometimes we don’t have all the resources; it’s just one door and one person,” she says.

Centuries: Imagining Black Women Cycling Across Time

by Oluseyi Akinyode

This article was originally published in DC Trending, here.

Walking on the trails near home, I’m filled with longing as cyclists swish by. There’s something about riding a bike — You can cover more terrain than by walking. Two weeks ago, I took the first step to fulfill that yearning by taking an adult biking class for beginners with a group of about 20 sponsored by the Washington Area Bicyclist Association (WABA). The group included ten Black people, and eight of them were women. It’s a rarely represented activity in my daily life and one that I find compelling given the perception that Black women don’t ride.

As part of my biking journey, I was intrigued to go check out Centuries, an immersive digital art installation by Nekisha Durrett at the K Street Virtual Gallery, honoring five Black women cyclists (Marylou Jackson, Velma Jackson, Ethyl Miller, Leolya Nelson, Constance White) who biked on a 250-mile journey over three days from NYC to Washington, DC in 1928.

Cycling represents not just physical mobility but also socio-economic mobility. It signifies the presence of leisure time beyond daily responsibilities and the presence of expendable income. It also lends itself to exploration and movement through space without barriers. The journey of these five Black women takes on audacious meaning considering the social and racial climate then. 

The K Street Virtual Gallery is an initiative by NoMaBid that allows artists to create digital art installations projected onto the K Street underpass that sits between First and Second Streets NE as part of a broader revitalization of the area. According to the virtual gallery creators, it was their goal to create a space where people could stop, reflect, and enjoy their day. NoMa BID President Maura Brophy explained, “The gallery brings light and color to an otherwise dark space, but the rotating exhibits allow us to use the space to bring new pieces to the gallery and tell unique stories. The exhibits will change over time, allowing people to experience something new and exciting with each piece.”

The first K Street Virgual Gallery installation was created by artist My Ly, who used abstract colors and shapes moving across the walls of the underpass to render the multiplicities of transportation modes in the underpass. 

This second installation, entitled Centuries and created by Durrett, continues the theme of movement from a different perspective by paying homage to the journeys of these five Black female cyclists. Projected onto the rough-hewn stones of the underpass are AI-generated images of ten Black women cyclists dressed in period outfits spanning the past to the future. The selection includes a cyclist from Victorian times, a nod to the possibility that Black women have ridden earlier than imagined. Texts like “WE OUTSIDE WE OUTSIDE” and “BLACK WOMEN CYCLE” amplify the theme of stories in motion. 

A challenging cycling traverse was among the inspirations for Durrett’s installation. On a ride, the artist recalls suddenly hearing shouts from a group of Black women cyclists above — “Sis, you’ve got this; you’re so close. You’re walking the path of your ancestors.” Durrett believed that only with their encouragement did she emerge from the traverse. She shared that her goal for the exhibit was to remind us that “the paths we take have been paved by those who have gone before.”

This installation is in keeping with past works by the artist, such as Go-Go Belongs Here at the National Portrait Gallery, True Grit at James Madison University, and Don’t Forget to Remember (Me) in the cloisters at Bryn Mawr College. Employing text, materials, and imagery, these narratives tell the stories of individuals who have been forgotten while also envisioning limitless possibilities for the future that incorporate their unique experiences.

Durrett used AI to overcome artistic limitations, intending only to include photographs of Black women in the installation. However, the only available photo, most likely sourced from a Newspaper microfiche, was of poor quality and not suitable for reproduction. So Durett opted to use Midjourney, an AI application that generates images from texts. This allowed her to vividly portray Black women cycling, tying into Durrett’s practice of imagined realities. While sifting through AI-generated images for the installation, the artist couldn’t find images that captured her vision. So instead, she trained the AI model by inputting specific phrases to generate the images of the ten Black women featured in the installation. This experience serves as a reminder that the experiences of Black individuals may often be overlooked or forgotten in a rapidly advancing world driven by AI technology.

Given its recent past as a homeless encampment, an underpass filled only with passersby would be inadequate. The K Street Gallery is a clever approach that reflects a myriad of the city’s perspectives all the while embacing goals for redevelopment. In the future, after learning to ride, I may be one of those cyclists riding through the K Street underpass, continuing the journey of those who came before. 

The K Street Gallery will feature a roster of installations by artists throughout the year. Artists, artist teams, and designers interested in participating in the K Street Virtual Gallery can contact events@nomabid.com. Centuries will be running for the next six months at the K Street Gallery, located close to 100 K St NE.

Transgender Massage Therapists Share Tips On How to Find LGBTQ+ Friendly Services

By Abby Stuckrath

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine, here.

LGBTQ+ massage therapists are creating new spaces for queer and transgender patients to feel not just accepted but seen. As practitioners work to craft gender-affirming spaces, there are multiple tactics that LBGTQ+ clients can use to ensure adequate care. 

Frances Reed, a massage therapist and educator in Washington, D.C. is teaching a new generation of LGBTQ+ inclusive practitioners, as well as leading medical research behind chest binding health. 

Washington D.C. is the only state or district that requires LGBTQ+ competency training for massage therapy licensure, says Reed. Anyone not living in the D.C., is left with the burden of educating therapists on transgender and queer care. 

Reed teaches that long-term binder compression can cause upper chest and back pain, as well as other serious health issues such as shortness of breath and loss of sensation in arms or fingers. Massaging the chest area can help mitigate chronic pain and significantly increase quality of life for binding individuals. 

To make sure that transmasc and genderqueer folks are receiving adequate care, Reed suggests bringing their binders to the session. 

“Some massage therapists don’t know what a binder really is,” says Reed. “So they imagine something that is not usually accurate, and that will affect how they might go about treating pain that you’re having from binding.” 

Thomas Lavi, a transgender massage therapist based in Oakland, California, says those recovering from postoperative top surgery, must discuss their physical limitations or recovery methods with their therapists. 

“Often your range of motion is limited to the parallel with your shoulder, you wouldn’t wanna stretch someone up above their head,” says Lavi. 

Again, Lavi stresses that many practitioners won’t be familiar with these limitations, so patients must be prepared to educate them on the main protocols of post-operative care. 

For those unable to access an LGBTQ+ specialist, Lavi says there are three things to do and look for when looking for an inclusive therapist: check their vibe, check their license, and make sure they respect draping and clothing techniques. 

“You have the autonomy to wear anything that you want and any trained massage therapist should be able to work with articles of clothing,” says Lavi. “That’s totally okay. It shouldn’t affect the impact of the massage and if they tell you that it does, they’re lying and you shouldn’t work with them.”

Reed says that gender affirming therapy offices don’t just accept transgender existence but make transgender clients feel seen and heard.

“When spaces understand what it is to be trans in the world socially, what it is to be in a transitioning body, are comfortable talking about bodies in language that de-emphasizes gender; you’ve actually created an actively affirming space, not just a space without discrimination or harassment,” shares Reed. 

For those concerned about cost, Reed says that transgender and queer therapists often offer a sliding scale or scholarship system. 

“It’s hard to be really focused on queer and trans community and not see the economic disparity that exists and so most of us tend to respond to that with some kind of financial model that allows for support of people who can’t afford the full rate,” says Reed. 

Since many massage therapists lack in-depth knowledge of transgender and queer care, Lavi and Reed suggest finding an LGBTQ+ massage specialist. 

“We’re having to teach our doctors what it is to be trans, what it means and what we need and that’s why it’s so special to have a trans therapist who can take that load from you,” says Lavi.

D.C. Leaders Are Improving Food Security with LGBTQ+-Friendly Spaces

By Abby Stuckrath

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine, here.

The D.C. LGBTQ+ Community Center’s  new collaboration with regional supermarket chain Wegman’s highlights food insecurity within the LGBTQ+ community and how Washington D.C. advocates are working to fight against it. 

One in four LGBTQ+ adults experience food insecurity, according to the Williams Institute. Kimberely Bush, Executive Director of the D.C. LGBTQ+ Community Center, says that food insecurity is one of the most pressing challenges for queer people. 

“Just waking up brown, black, a woman, non-binary, trans, queer, can definitely be a barrier to equal and fair housing, equal and fair job opportunities, access to resources, which directly contributes to food insecurity,” Bush told Tagg

Bush is leading the center’s new partnership with Wegmans. The supermarket chain will not only help supply food for the pantry but also provide nutritional cooking classes and support for their annual Thanksgiving dinner. 

Bush says the pantry will be a “one-stop-shop” for those searching for a new home or a place to feel loved and accepted. 

The COVID-19 pandemic has played a significant role in perpetuating food insecurity amongst the LGBTQ+ community. In a 2021 study by the Williams Institute, 20 percent of transgender individuals experienced food insecurity, compared to eight percent of cisgender adults. Moreover, LGBTQ+ people of color experienced food insecurity three times more than their white counterparts. 

Bush notes that she sees the everyday implications of these statistics at their food pantry. 

“Our brown, black, LGBTQ+ siblings who come into the center in search of food are exactly those members of our community,” says Bush. 

LGBTQ+ individuals’ ability to access nutrition programs and food pantries can be difficult, according to Alex Ashbrook, Root Causes and Specific Populations Director for the Food Research and Access Center.  

“The paperwork necessary to apply for programs may require someone to select an option that does not match their gender identity or a food pantry may be located in a faith-based institution that does not welcome or feel welcoming to LGBTQIA+ people,” Ashbrook wrote in a statement to Tagg

Bush says their pantry is made for this exact reason.

“We need a safe and affirming space to come to receive vital life and human services,” Bush notes. “It is paramount that we have access to healthy foods at no cost to our people.” 

In Washington, D.C., individuals in Ward 7 and 8, the largest majority Black neighborhoods, face disproportionate access to grocery stores. 

“​​There is only one full-service grocery store – a Giant on Alabama Ave – for 73 thousand residents compared to Ward 3, with 16 full-service grocery stores for 77 thousand residents,” Ashbrook said, citing a study conducted by D.C. Hunger Solution. 

Bush says that the pantry will work to target residents in these Wards and help provide them access to the center’s resources. 

“We want to make sure that all of our LGBTQ+ siblings in those Wards continue to be informed about our food pantry, as well as the upcoming educational opportunities we are planning,” Bush states. 

To support food security amongst the LGBTQ+ community, Ashbrook urges individuals to support the Equality Act — a bill that protects against discrimination based on gender and sexuality — and connect LGBTQ+ people to federal nutrition programs. 

For Bush, she is confident that their new space will help create a “healthy spirit that will feed them and feed their day to be able to wake up again and have a fighting chance of not only surviving but thriving.” 

The LGBTQ+ D.C. Community Center’s pantry will be launched at its new location, 1827 Wiltberger St. NW, Washington, DC on an undetermined date. 

At a new Picasso-inspired exhibit, an interesting conversation that’s missing context

By Jakob Cansler

This article was originally published in the DC Line here.

Tucked away in a small room on the third floor of the Art Museum of the Americas (AMA) is a series of works that all seem to be in dialogue with one another. Their media, style and color vary, but among them is a clue to their conversational starting point: a singular painting by Pablo Picasso.

The exhibit, titled Year of Picasso: A Dialog With the Americas, is being presented 50 years after Picasso’s death in 1973 and is one of dozens of exhibitions across Europe and North America celebrating the iconic artist. 

Unlike most of the other shows taking place this year, though, the exhibition at the AMA ⁠— a contemporary Latin American and Caribbean art museum that is part of the Organization of American States (OAS)⁠ — is focused almost exclusively on how Picasso and his work influenced artists in the Americas throughout the 20th century.

In 1973, three years before the museum opened, the OAS held a tribute exhibition to Picasso featuring works from all of the organization’s member states. Although much smaller in size and scope, A Dialog With the Americas is inspired by that exhibition.

The featured Picasso work is “L’aubade,” which he created while living in German-occupied Paris. A cubist painting designed to highlight the feeling of imprisonment — and perhaps the slightest feeling of hope — of that time, “L’aubade” is a showcase of the ways in which Picasso influenced other artists⁠ both in style and in his belief that all art is political.

In some of the works in the AMA’s exhibition, those influences are obvious. Colombian artist Alejandro Obregon’s “The Dead Student (The Vigil)” has a composition that seems inspired by “L’aubade,” and features a similar style. Obregon created the work in 1956 as a protest against the police killing of a group of students in Bogotá two years earlier under the authoritarian government of Gen. Gustavo Rojas Pinilla.

“The Last Serenade,” a painting by Argentine artist Emilio Pettoruti, seems to be directly inspired by Picasso’s “The Three Musicians,” while Mexican artist José Luis Cuevas’ “Homage to Picasso: The Real Ladies of Avignon” is a direct response to one of Picasso’s most famous works — “The Young Ladies of Avignon,” which was seminal in the development of cubism. Cuevas’ work approaches a similar tableau but with a more exaggerated, almost grotesque style.

Colombian artist Carlos Caicedo, meanwhile, explores Picasso’s work through photography in his “Imitando a Picasso” by using light to make it seem as if a real man and ox are casting Picasso-esque shadows on the ground. The effect is a marriage of the real world with the mind of Picasso.

Some of the conversations between the featured artists and Picasso do seem, admittedly, more indirect. Cuban painter Amelia Pelaez’s “The Waiting Lady” and Uruguayan artist Carlos Paez Vilaró’s “Rodoviario Saltimbanqui” both clearly draw from cubism and other styles associated with Picasso, but also pull from many other inspirations. Palaez’s painting, for instance, features bright, vivid colors inspired by art in Cuba in the early 20th century.

Perhaps the least obvious connection, despite its name, is Argentine artist Alicia Orlandi’s “Canto-Monumento a Pablo Picasso,” an optical illusion-style work that, interestingly, is placed in a space outside the room, where a visitor likely won’t see it until they leave the exhibition. In that sense, it is the final stop in Picasso’s influence.

That influence, this exhibition makes clear, was not simply in style and composition but also in how artists approach their work, and as a result, how their work reflects the world. In the oeuvre of these Latin American and Caribbean artists, the outsized impact of Picasso can be seen but perhaps not fully understood. 

What A Dialog With the Americas seems to be missing is context. This collection raises — but doesn’t address — interesting questions of how Picasso’s influence reached the Americas and what made the dialogue with his work different in that region than in the rest of the world. How did these artists and their peers view Picasso and his work? How is that reflected in the work?

Inclusion of that context could take what is a small exhibition ⁠— in terms of literal size and thematic scope ⁠— to the next step of truly reflecting on an artist with such an enormous impact, on art and culture writ large, 50 years after his death.

Joanna Hiffernan Through the Looking Glass

By Thais Carrion 

This article was first published August 7, 2022 in DC Trending here.

This past June, the National Gallery of Art celebrated the re-opening of I. M. Pei’s light-filled East Building, following a series of renovations and structural changes that have been taking place since its most recent closure in February of this year. The exhibition chosen to inaugurate the iconic space is Margaret MacDonald, Anne Dumas and Charles Brock’s The Woman in White: Joanna Hiffernan and James McNeill Whistler, a beautiful and essential exploration of Whistler’s most important subject, Joanna Hiffernan. On view through October 10th, Whistler’s many depictions of Hiffernan provide an exquisite impressionist contrast to the bold colors of Rothko and random splatters of Pollock currently housed in the East Building’s permanent collection. 

Few gallery spaces are as dynamic and visitor-centered as the National Gallery of Art’s East Building, whose quirky trapezoidal shape and abundance of light has seen important infrastructural changes with the new renovations. With Pei’s original vision at the forefront of renovation initiatives, new skylights have been installed to both filter out paint-harming UV rays and restore the level of light within the building to what it was at its opening in 1978. New galleries have been installed, as well, to house the growing permanent collection and temporary exhibits that find themselves within the East Building.

“I’ve always found this building very uplifting and full of life. The architecture is very movement-oriented and the way the light enters the building is truly special,” says Susan Wartheim, Chief Architect, National Gallery of Art.

With the integrity of the building as a work of art in and of itself at the center of the renovations, the gallery has been transformed into a more technologically modern, accessible space.  In contrast to the symmetrical, rectangular galleries of the neoclassical West building, the dynamism of the East building provides open gallery spaces full of personality.  “As an architect, I think the architecture and the modern art really go well together,” says Wartheim, “there’s undeniably a conversation taking place between the East and the West [buildings]”. 

This conversation takes place between the art and architecture within the East building as well, with James McNeill Whistler’s white-clad muse in The Woman in White reminiscent of the light-filled  atrium just outside the three connecting rooms that make up the exhibition. “It’s very intriguing to put 19th century art in modern galleries like the East building because it gives [the public] a new perspective on how relevant they are to modern design and certainly that’s the case with this [exhibition], ” says Charles Brock, Associate Curator of The Woman in White exhibit.

Filled with ethereal white dresses and her signature wild red hair, The Woman in White, is Margaret Macdonald, Anne Dumas, and Charles Brock’s attempt to piece together the human behind Whistler’s depictions of Hiffernan and to explore the resonance of Whistler and Hiffernan’s collaboration for Victorian culture as a whole in the late 19th century. Posed just at the entrance to the exhibition, Hiffernan stares out at her voyeurs atop the menacing skin of a wolf in Symphony in White Number 1, the wild eyes of the dead animal at her feet seemingly acting as a vessel for whatever hidden emotions run beneath Hiffernan’s composed surface. Despite the curator’s best efforts, Joanna remains at arm’s length throughout the exhibition, which ends up revealing more about Whistler’s gaze than the subject herself.

The curators have done an excellent job at taking Whistler off his pedestal and asking questions about the nature of his relationship with Hiffernan throughout. The audience is included as an active investigator throughout the exhibit with wall texts urging us to consider Joanna Hiffernan beyond Whistler’s portrayals and to “discern a difference between the ‘real’ Hiffernan and a model playing a role” (wall text). Regardless of Whistler’s own reputation and importance within the world of art, the curators make it clear that none of his standings would be possible without his most important muse. 

Furthermore, once having seen what influence Hiffernan held in other impressionist and modern works of her time period, one can hardly help but ask how it is possible that so little is known, or available about her today. As part of the reclaiming of Hiffernan’s agency as a collaborator in Whistler’s art, the exhibition includes a dedicated wall containing quotes from DC area models that speak to the ironically anonymous position they hold within the world of art and creation. This through-line drawn to illustrate the continuity of the anonymity imposed upon Hiffernan despite her central role in the various artworks displayed throughout the exhibition is powerful, and draws on her historical position to inform viewers of the model’s silent role today. 

The collaboration between the stunning improvements to the East Building’s lighting and facilities, as well as MacDonald, Dumas, and Brock’s audience-centered investigative exhibition, results in the reclaiming of the East Building as a space made for congregation, a building with the enjoyment of its visitors at the forefront of its infrastructure. “To see [Hiffernan’s] image at such a large scale within the very modern spaces of the East Building speaks very eloquently to the point of the exhibition,” says Brock. 

The East Building’s wide open spaces, fascinating geometric layout, its natural feel brought forth through gentle sunlight, and the ficus trees planted into the ground all act in conversation with the modern and contemporary art housed within its walls, a conversation that places the audience and their participation as a key figure. The Woman in White is one of the first of its kind, an exhibition that encourages museum-goers to look past the supposed genius of its painter and instead take part in the search for humanity within the subjects of the paintings themselves.