>> Whiteness is structuring the conversation around this exhibition.

It's not something that we can put on and take off.

>> JARED BOWEN: I'm Jared Bowen, coming up on Open Studio: the most controversial show to hit the art world in years finally opens.

Then Don't Eat the Mangos: the story behind one of the most daring, and demented, plays you'll see right now.

>> Shows like this, they give leeway, and show that, you know, the, we can make great work.

>> BOWEN: Plus, at the Gardner Museum, Portraits as Resistance from a South African visual activist.

>> All I ever wanted to do was to make sure that I become the voice for change in South Africa.

>> BOWEN: And a hymn for Ukraine.

>> (singing in Ukrainian) >> BOWEN: It's all now on Open Studio.

♪ ♪ First up, two years ago, four museums, including Boston's Museum of Fine Arts, were set to present a retrospective of painter Philip Guston.

And then, in one of the biggest controversies to hit the art world in the last few years, it all imploded.

But now the show has finally opened at the MFA.

So here now, the story of the artist, the art, and the controversy.

Philip Guston was the Jewish son of immigrant parents from present-day Ukraine, who learned early on what it meant to be a Jew in America.

>> The seminal moment for him is in 1933 in L.A., when he submits a work showing Klan violence to an exhibition, and it's vandalized by the red squad of the L.A.P.D., which has affiliations with the Klan.

>> BOWEN: The event marked him deeply enough that within four years, the then Phillip Goldstein changed his name to Guston, and he embarked on a career that, alongside his high school friend Jackson Pollock, would make him one of the most famous names in 20th-century art.

>> Guston is, in the '40s, '50s, one of the great Abstract Expressionist painters selling out shows, but always feels the limits of that approach to painting.

>> BOWEN: Ethan Lasser is co-curator of the nationally touring exhibition Philip Guston Now, which recently opened at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

It's a retrospective that charts how hate and anti-Semitism churned within Guston.

>> In 1968, as he's watching TV, he's watching Kent State, he's watching Vietnam, and he says, "What kind of man am I, going into my studio "to adjust a red to a blue to make abstract paintings?

"What can an abstract painting actually say in the world of civil rights?"

>> BOWEN: So the painter made a pivot, walking away from Abstract Expressionism.

It was abrupt and, to the art world, unforgivable.

Taking cues from the Sunday comics, and Krazy Kat in particular, he started painting cartoonish images, often in pink, a comics color, but one that can also be read as fleshy and raw.

And, in a motif that would appear throughout most of his 50-year career, he painted the Ku Klux Klan.

Guston did not discuss his work.

That's been left to interpreters like Lasser.

>> What he paints are images of Klansmen who had haunted Guston since he was a young artist.

Images of himself in a hood, as a Klansman, painting.

Images that call to account the underlying, I think, structures of racism in the art world and in America in general.

>> How do you create a way for those images to be understood?

>> BOWEN: Matthew Teitelbaum is the MFA's director.

He, along with the heads of the three other presenting museums, were caught in a firestorm of controversy in 2020, when the show was set to open at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. >> We're marching for Black life.

>> BOWEN: In the wake of George Floyd's murder and ensuing protests, the museums-- which also included MFA Houston and London's Tate Modern-- chose to postpone the show four years, when, they announced, the work, including its KKK imagery, could be, quote, "more clearly interpreted."

>> We felt it was a very charged moment to talk about race and to not have the community voices helping us interpret how these images would be received.

It was never about whether or not Guston had a voice that we needed to hear at any time and at all time.

>> BOWEN: But that's not how the art world saw it.

Thousands of artists, curators, and writers signed a petition blasting the museums' decision and accused them of, quote, "lacking faith in the intelligence of their audience."

And worse.

How much did it hit you when you were accused by artists, you being the four institutions, of cowardice?

>> I never had anybody say that about me before.

And it wasn't something that I even thought about.

It wasn't about avoiding something.

>> BOWEN: Instead, the MFA is now launching the national tour two years ahead of schedule.

It's curated the show unlike any other, inviting museum staff to weigh in, engaging a trauma specialist, and expanding the curatorial team to four, including guest curator Terence Washington.

>> The debate around the controversy talked about this exhibition as being the one that would start a conversation about whiteness.

And it would hold up a mirror to people who had stormed the Capitol, dot-dot-dot.

And I just thought, yeah, but, like, are those people coming in?

This feels really abstract.

>> BOWEN: Washington's approach had less to do with Guston than museums themselves.

Are they, he wonders, as accessible as they claim?

>> To me, that's the central thing.

How do we understand why exhibitions are done and for whom they're done?

All these places are open because they're supposed to be for everybody.

And I'm just not sure that that's the case.

>> BOWEN: Each of the four museums is devising their own plan for showing the work.

Here at the MFA, some of Guston's most searing hood paintings are on view in a single gallery.

If visitors prefer to avoid them, they're invited to circumvent the space.

If they do enter, it's deliberately claustrophobic.

>> We hope that will cause people to be a little less comfortable, or cause people to aestheticize them and, and neuter the paintings a bit less.

>> BOWEN: Because Washington wants to ensure that we never get so used to seeing Klan images that we don't really see them anymore.

Just as he doesn't want museums to get used to programming with the same old, limited perspective.

>> Whiteness is not abstract.

Whiteness is structuring the conversation around this exhibition.

It's not something that we can put on and take off.

♪ ♪ >> BOWEN: Next, one of the most daring and demented shows I've seen on stage recently comes courtesy of Teatro Chelsea, a new branch of Apollinaire Theatre.

The show is called Don't Eat the Mangos, and is delicious enough that I wanted to get to the heart of it with two of Teatro Chelsea's theater artists.

Mariela López-Ponce, Jaime Hernández, thank you so much for being with us.

Mariela, I'm going to start with you and your play.

This is extraordinary.

It's hard to talk about, because I don't want to give anything away, but I'll say what I said on radio.

It's deliciously demented as we find these sisters come together caring for their ailing parents.

And then it takes this big turn.

But how do you describe what we see here?

>> That's a great question, um...

The play is set in San Juan in a neighborhood called El Comandante.

It's a working-class neighborhood, and it's basically the story of these three adult sisters who are caregivers for their ailing parents, who are both rather ill. And you see the dynamics of the sisters in this situation that they bring from their childhood, from their relationships with each other, from some of the political differences between them regarding the, the Puerto Rican situation.

It's a, I think, a wickedly funny script with some deliciously dark elements, but also with a lot of heart.

And I think in the end, it's about these strong women that find a way to overcome and carve their own paths in life.

>> BOWEN: And much more, again, that we're leaving unsaid here.

>> We are leaving some things unsaid.

>> BOWEN: The night that I had in the theater, just, I felt like we all came together in this moment, because of the turn that it takes, and you're with this family, and you feel it.

It was this electricity in the audience.

But, Jaime, let me bring you into this.

You, as we first started talking about this, you, you pointed out to me this metaphor for the family and the relationship between the United States and Puerto Rico.

What do you see here?

>> I think with a lot of male patriarchy that can plague certain families-- not only with Latin culture, but in general-- I think the way that it is portrayed in this family can be sort of a metaphor, as you mentioned, how the U.S. treats Puerto Rico with its policies, that they, they say that they're doing the right thing with PROMESA.

And, you know, even with the tax credits right now that are causing a lot of rich people to flock to Puerto Rico, which then causes higher cost of living, which then can displace the residents of Puerto Rico.

And they're saying this tax credit is for the better.

People in Puerto Rico would say otherwise.

But I think that is one of the ways that you can say how it is a metaphor between the family, especially with the father and with Puerto Rico treating... U.S. treating Puerto Rico.

>> BOWEN: There are many heritages in terms of the backgrounds of your actors.

How, how much was that an exploration as you started this piece?

>> That's a wonderful question.

So we have two actors that are Puerto Rican.

We have a Colombian.

We have an actress that's half- Puerto Rican, half-Dominican.

We have a Spaniard.

And then in the crew, and in some of the other artists, we have Puerto Ricans, Colombians.

Right off the bat, the differences in the language, to some extent, the expressions, pronunciation, that, it's fun to learn about.

>> BOWEN: And Jaime, this is a bilingual piece, and I'm not somebody who speaks Spanish very fluently at all, and yet, of course, I followed this, and as I keep saying, adored the piece, but this is part of the aim of Teatro Chelsea.

Talk to me about what you're demonstrating here, how this is for the community, also a public at large.

>> So this is part of Teatro Chelsea's mission, to uplift artists, whether it's directors, theater actors.

And not only that, but it's also to make it accessible to the community, because language can be such a barrier in terms of people going to see shows.

If they can't understand it because they don't speak English, well, then, they're not going to go see the show.

And Chelsea, specifically, has a very big Central American, Latinx population that only speaks in Spanish.

So the idea that we have a theater, and a lot of the shows have been done in English, so a lot of the shows can't be seen by its own residents, was a big reason why Teatro Chelsea became a thing.

>> BOWEN: What strikes me here is that, with the racial reckoning in this country, all of the voices that we've not been hearing.

I'd never seen a piece by this playwright before, of Don't Eat the Mangos.

So what's the opportunity that's presented here in an effort like this, as you open this up to a wider platform of artists, and writers, and theater practitioners?

>> I think the opportunity is to give the voice to the voiceless.

There's just been this uplift of companies and representation in Boston theater for BIPOC, for voiceless artists who have predominantly been underrepresented on the stage and just in art platforms in general.

So I think shows like this, you know, they give leeway and show that, you know, the, we can make great work, whether it's the writers or the artists on stage.

>> BOWEN: Mariela, how do you see this pushing forward?

I mean, you must just be chomping at the bit now, both to be on stage and who else you can present, what other writers you can bring to the fore.

>> To me, it's, it's thrilling.

And I think it just enriches the artistic community, enriches the opportunities for people to come to the theater and maybe get a different perspective from another culture.

But the interesting to me ultimately is that in getting those different peeks into what a different culture, a different language, might be.

You know, ultimately, great theater is universal, and what we see is ourselves in these other representations.

And to me, that's really exciting and fulfilling.

>> BOWEN: There's just something fundamental about human expression and nature outside of language.

I think we could all identify with sibling rivalry to some degree, can't we?

>> Yes.

>> BOWEN: Jaime, I'm curious about, you looked at the community of Chelsea, and really tailor this to Chelsea as a specific people and city, as well.

How did you look at what the city needed and what you could bring?

>> I've been born and raised in Chelsea my whole life.

I see there is a lack of, specifically, theater.

Luckily, Apollinaire has the Apollinaire Play Lab, which, actually, recently, Danielle said that there's been an uptick in youth registration, so that's really exciting.

But there's just not this big representation of theater arts in Chelsea.

So,, with youth programs, with the Apollinaire Play Lab, and then Teatro Chelsea, we felt like making bilingual work will bring people to the theater so they can enjoy stuff that's in their city, that they deserve to enjoy.

>> BOWEN: In my reading about you, it seems like, from the moment you were a child, you, theater has been it, a very specific focus for you and you haven't veered off.

Why theater?

>> I don't-- when I was in middle school, my sister was in the drama club at high school, and I saw her do a show.

I was, like, "Okay, this, this looks like fun."

So when I got to high school, I did my first show.

So I've always been art-orientated in my life, and I hope to continue doing that throughout the rest of my life.

>> BOWEN: Well, finally, I just want to ask about theater on the waterfront in Chelsea.

It just sounds like these enchanting summer nights.

And as we're all hoping that the weather is going to warm up shortly and we'll, we'll have these great summer nights, what can we expect?

>> This summer, we're planning on doing a bilingual adaptation of Wizard of Oz in Chelsea downtown for the community of Chelsea to come down and see.

We have a lot of great ideas planned for that.

>> And for the wider community.

>> Absolutely.

>> We welcome you.

>> BOWEN: Well, I look forward to being there.

That sounds so exciting.

Congratulations on the show and your efforts.

It's extraordinary.

>> Thank you, Jared.

>> BOWEN: Thank you again.

>> Thank you.

>> Appreciate it.

♪ ♪ >> BOWEN: There's dancing in the streets-- or at least on the sidewalks.

Grab your salsa shoes and your calendar for Arts This Week.

Tuesday: Boch Center Wang Theatre opens a reimagined run of Riverdance to celebrate the show's 25th anniversary.

Science journalist Alanna Mitchell adds optimism to the conversation on climate change in the one-woman show Sea Sick, the true story of her oceanic research.

See it at Arts Emerson Wednesday.

Thursday, find cloth, culture, and community in the third annual Fabric Arts Festival in Fall River, with events unfolding throughout the city.

Enjoy free live music and dance lessons from professionals with Let's Dance Boston!

West Coast Swing comes to the Rose Kennedy Greenway Friday.

Saturday, the Arnold Arboretum, Castle of our Skins, and artist Daniel Callahan present Origin, a lecture on African folklore and mythologies.

Now our exclusive interview with Sir Zanele Muholi.

Rather than artist, they describe themself as a visual activist.

And they have been documenting the oppressed in South Africa for decades.

The exhibition Being Muholi at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is in its final days, so here again, a story we first aired in February.

This is Sir Zanele Muholi at work-- intent that people be seen and acknowledged.

In picture after picture, Muholi wants us to take in their pride, their togetherness, their very being.

>> All I ever wanted to do was to make sure that I become the voice for change in South Africa in which every single being who is Black, who is queer, who is trans, is documented in South Africa.

>> BOWEN: For nearly 20 years, Muholi has been photographing LGBTQIA+ people in South Africa.

In the aftermath of apartheid, it was the first nation in the world to outlaw discrimination based on sexual orientation.

But that community remains subject to high rates of violence and murder-- especially among young and Black people.

Muholi has used photography to change the culture.

>> It's like you cannot dare to ignore it.

It's Black, it's beautiful.

It's in your walls and it forces you to wonder how can you as a, as a white person, deal with a Black image, deal with Black people in your, in your spaces, deal with Black colleagues in your workplace.

>> BOWEN: Their work, stemming from their role as a self-described visual activist, is on view at Boston's Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.

>> You see a sense of undeniable pride that comes from a confidence in being.

>> BOWEN: theo tyson is the show's co-curator, and the work became even more layered, tyson says, when Muholi began creating stylized self-portraits in 2012, part of a series shot all over the world called Somnyama Ngonyama, translated from Zulu as "Hail the Dark Lioness."

>> They're not playing dress-up.

The costumery, if you will, is part of the storytelling.

There are clothespins used to talk about domestic labor and share stories of their mother.

Luggage wrap that's used to talk about issues with travel, racism, colorism.

There are the plastic gloves that we see in sort of this signs of the times and what that represents, from sexual violence to access to healthcare to now COVID, and what we need to do to protect ourselves.

>> BOWEN: Originally, you didn't necessarily turn the camera on yourself.

What, what was the genesis of that?

>> I guess that after many years of documenting other people, or photographing other people, I needed to remember me.

I wanted to pay homage to my mom.

Her spirit forever lives with me.

If she didn't suffer from labor pains for me to be born, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.

>> BOWEN: In these images, Muholi also increases the contrast of their skin tone in post-production.

It's yet another conversation with the viewer, Muholi says.

>> This is just engagement.

How far can we go with our bodies?

How far can we go with our voices?

How fearful are we to say what makes us feel uncomfortable?

So are we brave enough to face the world out there that doesn't allow us to be, either as Black, either as queer folks, either as anything?

>> BOWEN: The exhibition also features Muholi's latest work-- their first sculpture and paintings never before seen in a museum.

Pieranna Cavalchini is the show's co-curator.

>> It's so exciting, you know, this idea of still, you know, dealing with different characters and archetypes, and also connecting the painting to the photography in very interesting ways.

>> BOWEN: Cavalchini came to know Muholi during their time as one of the museum's artists-in-residence in 2019 and during a trip with tyson to Cape Town last year.

The show, she says, paints the duality of Muholi.

>> Being Muholi: Portraits as Resistance is the idea of letting Muholi be.

So it's Muholi as an artist-activist.

Very powerfully so.

But at the same time, there's a humanity.

You know, there's that sense of vulnerability.

>> BOWEN: Which Muholi readily talks about.

The paintings were mostly made last year, during a period of pain, so these works were a way of healing, even if they're sold at the end of the day.

>> What's different is the color.

So for once, I was, like, trying to dive out of the, you know, the drowning.

>> BOWEN: What did you see when you stepped back after you had completed these paintings and saw the color?

>> It's, it's very interesting.

You, you fall in love knowing that you might lose that lover, you know?

And once it's out of your sight, and it belongs to the other, so it's like losing love and that love belongs to someone.

And you wonder if you'll ever, like, touch it again.

>> BOWEN: But being Muholi means that love was fully realized.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Artists all over the world have come together in myriad ways to support the people of Ukraine.

Boston Baroque, the Grammy-nominated orchestra, recently performed the hymn "Prayer for Ukraine" in our own Calderwood Studio.

Written 150 years ago, it asks God to protect the country, to give it freedom, and to bask it in kindness.

>> ♪ Bozhe velykyi ♪ ♪ Yedynyi ♪ ♪ Nam Ukrainu khrany ♪ ♪ Voli i svitu prominniam ♪ ♪ Ty yii osiny ♪ ♪ Svitlom nauky i znannia ♪ ♪ Nas, ditey, prosvity ♪ ♪ V chystii liubovi do kraiu ♪ ♪ Ty nas, Bozhe, zrosty ♪ ♪ Molymos', Bozhe yedynyi ♪ ♪ Nam Ukrainu khrany ♪ ♪ Vsi svoi lasky y shchedroty ♪ ♪ Ty na liud nash zverny ♪ ♪ Dai yomu voliu, dai yomu doliu ♪ ♪ Dai dobroho svitu ♪ ♪ Shchastia ♪ ♪ Dai, Bozhe, narodu ♪ ♪ I mnohaia ♪ ♪ Mnohaia lita ♪ ♪ ♪ >> BOWEN: That is all for this edition of Open Studio.

Next week, the Boston Pops plays on.

Conductor Keith Lockhart joins me.

>> There hasn't been that much of a gap in my public performances since I was seven.

>> BOWEN: And celebrating 200 years of the man who brought us landscape architecture, including draping Boston in an Emerald Necklace.

That's Frederick Law Olmsted.

>> If you're walking through here, other than maybe the path, you would feel that this is incredibly natural.

>> BOWEN: As always, you can visit us online at GBH.org/OpenStudio.

And you can follow us on Instagram and Twitter, @OpenStudioGBH.

I'm @TheJaredBowen.

We leave you now with a forest of photography.

In an installation at the Davis Museum at Wellesley College, Japanese artist Komatsu Hiroko coats a gallery space with her own work documenting the detritus generated in never-ending construction.

Consider it immersive cacophony.

I'm Jared Bowen.

Thanks for joining us.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪