An Exhibition of Witch Beer Enters the Modern Era in Salem


This article is part of our latest article Fine Arts and Exhibitions A special report on how arts institutions help audiences discover new options for the future.


SALIM, MAS. — at the entrance to the “Salem Witch Trials: Reckoning and Recovery” exhibition, Peabody Essex Museum, a plain title panel reads: “No one was safe.”

Some of the figures accused of witchcraft mentioned in the exhibition are Sarah Good, who said her own husband at his trial he is “the enemy of all good”; Bridget Bishop is apparently a party girl who is very fond of bright colors; Tituba, an enslaved Caribbean woman (and first accused), finally admitted to baking a “witch cake” under duress; and George Burroughs, a minister, is “suspected of allying with the devil”.

And then there’s Good’s incarcerated 4-year-old daughter, Dorothy, whose pet snake was dominated by a familiar spirit. He was later released, but his mother was convicted and hanged.

Between June 1692 and May 1693, when the first special tribunal was held, members of the Puritan community in the Massachusetts Bay Colony (home to Salem Village now known as Danvers, five miles from modern Salem) were condemned by their families or neighbors, and many imprisoned or hanged for witchcraft – perhaps the most infamous example in American history of mass hysteria.

At a time when the term “witch hunt” gained new jurisdiction and a law effectively banning most abortions in Texas involved deputizing citizen enforcers, the lawsuits had new repercussions. The deliberately non-touristy exhibition, held at Peabody Essex in August and boasting the largest collection of original essay-related material, reminds us that history can repeat itself.

“Many people were certainly aware that when these charges were brought against them, the end was coming,” said Lydia Gordon, co-curator of the exhibition. “These accusations were based on fear. They were based on jealousy, land disputes, and money. And it may seem different, but that fear and that need to control mostly women or people outside of a heteronormative society? Well, we still see that today.”

The first gallery is dominated by original court documents and personal belongings. Among the most poignant elements are the testimonies of witnesses to the innocence of Elizabeth How, mother of six (often written as Howe). The main accusers in Salem Village. Despite these objections of his virtue, How was later prosecuted for various acts of witchcraft that had “great harmed them”.

“It’s important to remember that these tragedies didn’t happen all that long ago,” Ms Gordon said. “And I think one of the things that contemporary artists really put into this exhibition is a conversation about how we continue to use our voices to stand up against injustice.”

The show also connects the story to the present by showcasing the work of the two artists. Artists with ties to the accused and their ancestors: fashion designer Alexander McQueen and photographer Frances F. Denny.

Mr McQueen, who committed suicide in 2010After discovering that How’s was a distant descendant, she dedicated her dark dramatic fall/winter 2007 fashion collection to him. titled collection, “In Memory of Elizabeth How, Salem 1692” explored themes of paganism and cruelty, with a series of armored bustiers, crystal headdresses, and flowing silhouettes befitting a gothic assembly. Juxtaposed with a timeline of How’s essay, Peabody Essex showcases one of these runway pieces, a sleek black velvet dress with trumpet beads with a cascading starburst from the neckline.

Seventeenth-century Puritans found black to be exaggerated, partly because paint was expensive and quickly faded with wear. And it was possible to be accused of witchcraft for violating Puritanical sumptuary laws and the “sad colors” dress code. (Imagine being hanged for dressing gorgeously.) Next to the video installation of McQueen’s tribute to How, the curators placed another compelling court document: a handwritten letter demanding payment from their daughters, Mary and Abigill, who eventually received compensation from the Massachusetts Bay Colony. For suffering “when our honored mother was executed” on January 22, 1712.

Putting things in a modern context is the “Major Arcana: Portraits of Witches in America” ​​photo series, which documents Miss Denny’s redeeming the “Witch” from using it as a weapon to punish otherness.

That’s a word that packs a lot of baggage,” said Mrs Denny, a descendant of both Samuel Sewell, one of the Salem trial judges, and Mary Bliss Parsons of Northampton, who was accused of witchcraft and acquitted by the court in 1674. A court in Boston. “What does it mean to be a witch?” asked. “What does it mean to cast a spell? The witch is the only female archetype defined as autonomous. And of course, he is the most feared and vilified.”

Opposite the McQueen gallery, the museum has placed a selection of Miss Denny’s most colorful, serious and diversely feminine portraits. He spent three years photographing kitchen witches (witches who focus on improving food), brujas (Spanish for “witches”), medicine women, herbalists, manbo asogwe (Haitian Voudou priestesses), more than 75 subjects that define this spiritual spectrum. Santería practitioners, tarot readers, and goddess worshipers. Some have publicly embraced their identities – a swipe of the TikTok hashtag WitchTok makes this clear – and others, as Ms. Denny puts it, remain “in the broomstick” for fear of persecution.

“All of my subjects chose where they were photographed and what they were wearing so they have a stake in their representation,” said Ms. Denny. He pointed to a middle-aged surgical coordinator for a transplant unit wearing a gown. “You can pass Debbie on the street and not realize you’re walking past a Wiccan high priestess.”

This kind of shift in corporate thinking preoccupies Lynda Roscoe Hartigan, a veteran. recently named Peabody is the first female director in the Essex Museum’s 221-year history. “Part of what is lost in the case of the witch trial is that what happened is actually pushing people to take better action after a terrible act,” he said. “Because it has had an incredible impact on the debate over what is legal in this country.”

Directly opposite the museum on the Charter Street side is the Old Burying Point Cemetery and the Salem Witch Trials Memorial, where the victims’ names and dates of execution are engraved on granite benches. Descendants leave handwritten messages to relatives, and other visitors, some wearing witches’ garb and pentacle tattoos, pay homage to coins, flowers, seashells, and painted pebbles.

Part of How’s statement is buried in the cobblestones: “If this were my last moment, God knows I’m not innocent of anything of that sort.”



Source link

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *