There is little doubt that historic racism has influenced the content and composition of several famous figurative paintings. In March 2024, this could be seen in the debate around the exhibition of the Rex Whistler mural, The Expedition in Pursuit of Rare Meats (1927), at the Tate Britain. Critics asked whether such artworks should remain on public display.
There are several shocking elements of Rex Whistler’s mural, originally commissioned by the Tate as “decoration for the new refreshment room”, including the image of a black child chained to a horse and cart as it moves at speed. The debate raises the question – does the ongoing presence of artworks like this in public spaces serve to confront or maintain historic racist views?
In some instances, the racist attitudes behind such paintings have been explicitly expressed by artists or painting owners, making them well-documented. Take, for example, John Trumbull (1715–1787), a painter who had several enslaved people living in his household. Another example is Gilbert Winter Moss (1828–1899), a banker who owned Richard Ansdell’s painting The Hunted Slaves (1861). According to the UCL Legacies of Slavery database, Moss’s family was deeply involved in the slave trade. In other cases, things aren’t so clear-cut.
But even if not explicitly expressed, racist attitudes may have been implicitly held, to an extent that they were able to influence the creative process. Implicitly held racial attitudes are mental associations that, when triggered by race, can guide people’s judgment and actions. As a researcher in psychology, I wanted to explore if implicitly held racial attitudes affect the viewing of paintings when the images themselves make no suggestion of racial inequality.
Alongside my colleagues, I have explored this question in a series of recent studies of portraits of black and white people. In one study, we used gaze-mapping technology to measure the eye movements made by visitors to the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool.
The measurement of when and where our eyes move, and how long they focus on specific objects, provides a time-sensitive index on what is important to viewers. We measured the eye movements of the visitors to the gallery who agreed to take part in our study as they looked at a set of five portraits of black sitters (including Two Jamaican Girls by Augustus John, 1937) and five portraits of white sitters (including Interior at Paddington by Lucian Freud, 1951).
Their task was to say how much pleasure they experienced when looking at each painting. We also assessed the visitors to the gallery on their implicit racial attitudes and actual contact with different racial communities.
Our results
Our study showed that visitors to the gallery who reported little contact with black people and who held negative implicit racial attitudes reported experiencing little pleasure when viewing paintings showing black sitters.
Perhaps more surprisingly, though they reported little pleasure, these visitors focused their attention more on the faces of the black sitters than others did. The results suggest that little contact with black people, combined with holding negative implicit racial attitudes, can be associated with an undue focus on black faces when viewing these paintings.
We believe our findings suggest that negative implicit racial attitudes have not only influenced the historic content and composition of some paintings, but continue to exert an influence on the viewing of paintings in the present day. Moreover, the influence of negative implicit racial attitudes on the viewing of paintings exerts its effect even when the images themselves are quite neutral.
Whether or not racist paintings are removed from public spaces, our results show that implicit racial attitudes will, for some viewers, continue to exert an influence on their perception of paintings representing black people and culture.
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Tobiasz Trawinski does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
