Malik Roberts: Glory
On a nondescript stretch of Broadway in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, stands a print shop empty of customers or seemingly anything to sell. It is a miracle establishment, not unlike the neighborhood it sits in. You wonder how it has survived Amazon and gentrification, and you wonder for how much longer.
It is a frigid day in mid-February, as, above the print shop, I arrive at a large warehouse full of artists’ studios. I walk into one and find myself surrounded by a majesty of blues and grays and flashes of gemstone colors. Bootsy Collins’ tonal gyrations sing out across the studio as I am greeted by a slippered Malik Roberts, paintbrush in hand, wearing his trademark hat and glasses and a smile so warm and genuine that, for a moment, I am genuinely taken aback.
This authenticity, a willingness to be real, is most apparent in Roberts’ work. BLK & BLUE, his 2018 show at ABYX gallery, was inspired by Picasso’s Blue period. But more poignantly, it is a telling description of what it is to be Black in America — an explora- tion of the damage wrought from a dueling existence that demands our strength as much it denies our pain. Using a palette of blues and grays, Roberts pulls back the thin veil that covers mental illness in the Black community. Familiar scenes and tropes of Black existence are contextualized in classical forms and dismantled, bringing into sharp relief the truth that was there all along.
Recently, I asked Malik about his current work as he sat in front of a piece in progress, adding delicate inflections of paint on a folded brown thigh.