Effigy: Hemric by Danner Washburn at Sarasota Art Museum

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines "effigy" as "a crude figure or dummy representing a hated person." It's a word that carries political connotations as effigies of politicians have been burned in protest the world over. And it's a word I've kept coming back to as I've thought about Danner Washburn's "Effigy: Hemric," now on display at Sarasota Art Museum. 

It's easy to imagine people glancing into the room in which Washburn's work has been installed and passing it by as too weird, even for a contemporary art museum. And truth be told, I might have done so myself if I hadn't seen a fascinating exhibit years ago at the Ringling in which artist Jill Sigman built a site-specific hut using discarded materials collected from across Sarasota. It made me curious about what was going on here. The answer is: a lot. 

Washburn is a young artist (not yet 30) who grew up in North Carolina. So it's no surprise that tobacco provides inspiration for his work. With the passage of The Fair and Equitable Tobacco Reform Act in 2004, the federal government's marketing quota and price support loan programs -- in effect since 1938 -- were eliminated. Tobacco farmers who had previously been allocated growing quotas received buy-out payments for a period of ten years. A docent told us that before the Act's passage, there were 56,000 tobacco farmers in the state. That number plummeted to a mere 4,000 as a result of the legislation. In Washburn's work, he envisions the life of Hemric, a farmer now living on government support. 

Every component of Washburn's work has meaning. I didn't need help discerning the significance of the dried tobacco leaves, cigarettes, snuff or pills. (If you haven't watched "Dopesick," go queue it up right now.)  But what about the corn-laden angel in a wheelbarrow? The helpful docent reminded me that corn is the primary ingredient in whiskey, both the kind you buy in a liquor store and moonshine. A 9N tractor typically used for farming has been converted into a still. And why not? It's no longer needed to till the fields. There are damaged tobacco leaves with holes in them, perhaps caused by the nearby cricket. And there's an eagle split in two representing the divisions not only in tobacco country but across the United States. Rich v. poor, farmer v. non-farmer, Republican v. Democrat. The list goes on. 

In addition to the found objects that make up the installation, Washburn created some paintings for the exhibit. Quite aptly, his medium was interior house paint. "Private Property" calls to mind the signs we've all seen posted on fences. Then there's "Beware." But what are we supposed to be wary of? A vicious dog ready to pounce? Trusting the government to look after these farmers? Something even larger and more ominous? The sign heralding "Notice" seems even more open to interpretation. What, exactly, is this exhibit urging viewers to notice and take away with them? 

The Little Debbie collage is similarly laden with meaning. It harkens back to those sugar-filled treats, delicious but worthless in terms of nutrition. While a bit hard to see in the image here, the work also includes an offering envelope with cut-outs for coins. Each cut-out requests a higher amount, a reference to inflation. And then there's the Bible story of Ruth, distilled into four short paragraphs. 

The story is set in a time of famine in Israel. After farmers tilled their fields, the grain that fell to the ground was left for the poor to pick up. Ruth was one of these "gleaners" who scoured Boaz' field for food. Boaz saw how hard she worked and invited her to a dinner in which he served her more roasted grain than she could eat. In recognition of her diligence Boaz told his servants to allow her to work among the sheaves and to drop grain for her to glean. The moral of the story -- as told by Washburn -- is that by putting your coins in the collection card you will share Boaz' trait of generosity to those less fortunate. (Note: Washburn omitted the part of the story where Boaz marries Ruth and they live happily ever after.) 

I will leave you to your own interpretation of Washburn's retelling of Ruth's story and its relationship to North Carolina tobacco farmers like Hemric. I'm still puzzling over his use of the word effigy in the title of the work. Is he skewering Hemric for failing to use his government payments to find a new way to make a living? Is it the government he's lambasting for providing inadequate support to these farmers whose families have made a living from tobacco for generations? Or is his intention something else entirely? 

Happily, I'll have a chance to find out when Washburn speaks about his work at Sarasota Art Museum on March 10th at 6 pm. Stay tuned to the Museum's "Events" listings to register. Perhaps I'll see you there. 

"Effigy: Hemric" will be on display through May 8.  For more information about the exhibit, click here.