In the heart of Minneapolis, amidst the chaos of a federal crackdown on immigrant communities, something quietly profound emerged. On the very day that Tom Homan declared the end of Operation Metro Surge—a campaign that had left the city reeling and claimed lives like those of Renee Good and Alex Pretti—Rosy Simas opened her exhibition, A:gajë:gwah dësa’nigöëwë:nye:’ (i hope it will stir your mind) at the Walker Art Center. Personally, I think this timing wasn’t just coincidental; it felt like a deliberate act of defiance, a reminder that even in the face of oppression, spaces for peace and reflection can still exist.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Simas’s work operates as a counterpoint to the aggression of the moment. Her installation doesn’t scream for attention; it whispers. Salt bottles woven from corn husks hang delicately, each honoring a relative, while the overall atmosphere invites contemplation. It’s a space where, as Simas puts it, people can ‘rest their nervous systems.’ In a city gripped by fear, this feels revolutionary.
From my perspective, the exhibition’s roots in Simas’s Haudenosaunee heritage are key to its power. Inspired by her ancestor Handsome Lake, who sought to teach his people about a ‘good mind’ after years of war, the work is deeply rooted in a philosophy of peace. But what many people don’t realize is how this historical context resonates with contemporary struggles. Simas isn’t just creating art; she’s offering a framework for survival in turbulent times.
One thing that immediately stands out is Simas’s discomfort with the static nature of museum exhibitions. As someone who thrives in the iterative process, she finds it challenging to leave her work untouched for months. This tension between the static and the dynamic is, in my opinion, what makes her practice so compelling. It’s why she pairs the installation with performances, creating a dialogue between the fixed and the fluid.
If you take a step back and think about it, this duality mirrors the human experience. We crave stability, yet we’re constantly in motion. Simas’s work captures this paradox, inviting viewers to engage with both the stillness of the installation and the energy of the performances. It’s not just art; it’s a reflection of how we navigate our own lives.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the counterclockwise movement embedded in the exhibition. In Haudenosaunee culture, this direction is intentional, a way of honoring tradition. But what this really suggests is that Simas is not just creating a space for peace; she’s embedding cultural knowledge into the very act of experiencing the art. It’s a subtle yet powerful way of asserting Indigenous presence in a world that often seeks to erase it.
This raises a deeper question: Why is visibility for Native, BIPOC, and queer voices so critical right now? Simas’s answer is both personal and political. These are the voices being suppressed, the communities most affected by systemic violence. By creating spaces like this exhibition, she’s not just making art; she’s providing a lifeline for those who feel paralyzed by the weight of oppression.
What this really suggests is that art isn’t just a luxury; it’s a necessity. In times of crisis, it becomes a tool for resilience, a way to reclaim humanity in the face of dehumanization. Simas’s work doesn’t just stir the mind, as its title suggests; it stirs the soul.
In my opinion, the true genius of Simas’s exhibition lies in its ability to be both deeply personal and universally relatable. It’s a space where individuals can confront their own experiences while connecting to something larger than themselves. As I reflect on her words—‘I am interested in response, as opposed to reaction’—I’m reminded of the power of slowing down, of choosing intention over impulse.
If there’s one takeaway from Simas’s work, it’s this: In a world that often feels like it’s spinning out of control, creating spaces for peace isn’t just an act of resistance; it’s an act of hope. And in Minneapolis, amidst the chaos, Rosy Simas has given us just that.
