Question Bridge: Black Males Exhibition at the Oakland Museum of California

Chris Johnson and Hank Willis Thomas. Question Bridge (still), 2011; video installation. Courtesy of Oakland Museum of California, Oakland. – Photo Caption

The opening of Question Bridge: Black Males (2011), a new-media work by Chris Johnson and Hank Willis, is a timely response to events like Trayvon Martin’s death and the Oscar Grant case. By mimicking a roundtable discussion, Question Bridge excavates and delves into issues around the notion of the African American male, forcing participants and viewers across the spectrum of human experience to witness a thought-provoking exchange.

Originally, Johnson began the Question Bridge project in 1996 in order to address concerns regarding divisions within the San Diego African American community.1 Close to a decade later, Willis approached Johnson about collaborating, which resulted in interviews gathered from black men in different cities across the United States.2 The work consists of one hundred fifty videotaped black males from a diverse range of demographics (age, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, and sexual orientation, to name a few), answering questions about violence, health, intelligence, masculinity, education, fears, lifestyles, and sexuality. The installation speaks directly to the collective consciousness, for although there’s never an easy time or place to discuss race relations, posing questions around the topics of race, gender, and cultural amnesia feels especially urgent.

Johnson and Willis asked participants to provide questions as well as answer questions from other participants. In response to a vehement question about the code of the streets, the answers vacillate between the prevalent street mentality that silence is the ultimate code to anger and frustration that young black men perpetuate the cycle of violence. For some of the younger participants, respecting the unspoken commandment of the streets—in the belief that “the streets will take care of that” with “that” being the violence inflicted or received from an assailant—is common and strictly observed.3

Yet, as others noted, the code of the streets is a mere “set of playground rules” that some may or may not grow out of to deal with the complexities of violence and power struggles found within a disenfranchised community. All of the men speak of solidarity but are unaware of how to bridge the differences that exist between them.

The editing of the video footage makes it appear as though men on separate screens are looking at one another as they pose and answer questions. Each of the speakers seems to express genuine and sincere interest in listening to and addressing the questions of his interlocutors. The illusion that these men are in discussion together, in the same physical space, makes the artwork less of a physical object and more of a glimpse into the experiences of African American males and the issues and concerns often obscured by the media, silenced by culture, or cloaked by hyper-masculinity.

The nearly pitch-black installation space and editing of the videos also implicate us as witnesses as we listen to these conversations between men. As we wait for a question and answer, our heads might slowly turn from screen to screen, as if watching the trajectory of a ball in mid-flight. These gestures echo the connecting of complex ideas and thoughts between and among the participants.

Despite the power and effectiveness of the work, it would nonetheless be advantageous to expand the scope of the Question Bridge project. Participants identifying themselves as gay or queer were certainly incorporated into the discussion and, understandably, the work focuses on African American male experiences. However, the absence of African American transgendered men suggests another aspect of the male experience that remains concealed from the public. This lack of representation certainly does not make the work deficient, but it  raises the question of how American culture defines the male experience.

Indeed, what happens in the space between the participants serves to remind the viewer that the archetypal black male is nonexistent. One participant’s question, “What is common to all of us?” provokes a flurry of answers. Though the participants’ commonalities overlap time, space, sex, gender, color, beliefs, and much more, a more significant commonality emerges from their responses. These men are willing and ready for engagement. All that they needed was for someone to ask the question.


Originally posted to Art Practical, please click here


1. “About Question Bridge,” Question Bridge website,

2. Ibid.

3. Unless otherwise indicated, all quotations are from the interviewees in the artwork.

3 responses to “Question Bridge: Black Males Exhibition at the Oakland Museum of California”

  1. This is not to be facetious, but I knew a group of Nigerian male university students; and men of integrity.

    What’s funny is that when they get together they always have heated arguments complete with shout fests

    They’re all opinionated because of their intellects, or vice-versa? Otherwise they were an affable, genteel, bunch of individuals.

    Anyway, I wonder what their input would have been if they were part of that event.

    1. Yes, it would have been interesting to see this group you speak of. Dialogue is important amongst people and Question Bridge: Black Males shows discussion in a really interesting way. It’s one thing to be asked and feel the obligation to answer instantaneously but these men are asked to really think about their answer and to incorporate their own experiences and tell stories with little fear of judgement. It’s a wonderful exhibition and it doesn’t matter what ethnicity, culture, or sub-culture you identify as, it really is a work that has the ability to teach us what we fundamentally need – respect, comfort, ease, peace, and confidence in our selves and others.

  2. (Oh, no…again!)

    Anyway, since I’m not yet there at the Twitter, Facebook, EBay, etc. lessons yet (but getting there), I’ll just ingratiate myself here by responding to those wonderful events of last month.

    One of my fondest memories was when I lived in Marikina. The funny thing is, I went there to start a fitness/aerobics program where EVERYbody can afford. It turned out that many of the participants who attended were instead, among the wealthiest, kind-hearted and loving people.

    They didn’t even go to their own posh fitness centers. Why? They started a breakfast club where (right after having been justified by a ‘hard’ workout,) they’d all go to McDonalds to chow down and chew the fat, and I’d feign major disappointment.

    Through them I can get a glimpse of the caliber of people you’re around, like…

    Holland Cotter, although it’s FLABBERGASTING to have been invited and spent time in his company (a New York Times Art Critic and 2009 Pulitzer Prize recipient for Criticism, no less), it’s no surprise. (You’re there with the biggies! Even I can’t get the full benefit of any of YOUR comments reading them just once.)

    Though YOU may be inebriated with flattery, that it’s no surprise is totally justified because you’re skill in writing, along with your integrity, has spirited you up into their arena. I think one cardinal virtue you share in common must be humility.

    (Writing is no joke. English was my worst subject. If I had to do a book report, I’d use the comic book version instead. Sheepishly, I still passed.)

    New York Times Art Critic and 2009 Pulitzer Prize for CRITICISM! Ever tried doing their crossword puzzle? The pen and art wield so much power, and he’s go ta two-edged sword! The way you regard him, I’d think he’s Mark Twain!

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