Connections/Privilege

My name is Theresa King-Dickinson, and I am an art preparator for the European Paintings department.

When you hear the word privilege you have an assumption about a certain amount of entitlement and the haves and the have-nots.

I think people think of the Museum and think that, "I don't want to go there," or "only certain people go to the Museum." And for me, privilege is the privilege that I have

to have these relationships with artists, to be here and have these works evoke emotion within me.

And I think it's an innate privilege that everyone should have their own say about the work. When I approach art

I come to it, first impression, walk up to something and take a look. And as I walk closer, I usually start to feel a relationship

towards the sitter. It becomes personal, and it starts to speak to me, the work.

Juan de Pareja is looking directly at you, and I know that Juan de Pareja was the slave of Velázquez, but he also was his friend and companion, his assistant in the studio, actually. And I think sometimes knowing the background to the painting and then looking at the work, I'm not so sure that this man could ever have been enslaved by anyone. There are no threads of slavery in his body. He just says

beauty and he is full of selfness, he knows who he is. And myself being a person of color, I often

look for works with people of color in them, and there are few at the Museum, just because in history there are not that many that have been preserved, and certainly we do have a large collection of works on view.

I look at works and I wonder, you know, what was your day like, you know, who are you? I look at

this portrait of this woman with this very big, ostentatious dress. And because I am looking at this picture in terms of someone who looks like me, that has my skin tone, that is part of my race, I see him.

I look at him, and I wonder is he fearful? Is he okay? Is he taken care of as best he can be, because he certainly isn't part of the family. And you think about the time period, and you think about what went on. It breaks my heart. You have no clue what journey he's taken, and you don't know where he ends up either.

Saint Maurice. The ornaments on his armor just say so much about his personality. And he is certainly a soldier in arms, but wow, he is the

pimp of the sixteenth century. You know, this man of color, well he made out okay.

There are pieces of art where all the features of African Americans are over-the-top and turned into something else. Here it's done just so, to let you understand what certain peoples look like, but certainly to keep their beauty intact. And she is stunning, and regal almost.

She was a slave, I'm sure. But there was a certain air of just herself, that she was happy in who she was. It didn't matter her place in life, what rung on the ladder she stood, she had a major presence.

The Bashi-Bazouk talks to me in a sense of strength that you must have in order to survive in this world. Supposedly Bashi-Bazouk is a soldier that's sort of a renegade, so you sort of say to yourself, "Oh I'm not supposed to like him." But then when I look, I go, my God, he is bursting out of the frame and he's just telling you that he is proud of who he is and his station in life.

You meet very different people every day. You know, you hear people say, "It's my privilege to have met you." That's a relationship that the artist wants you to have.

And what you take away from it is very important.