An inimitable lynchpin of the Detroit arts community, Shirley Woodson is an artist, educator, and institution builder whose work stretches back to the civil rights movement. Whether as a student, mentee, collaborator, or colleague, a vast number of artists locally and abroad can trace their connections back to Ms. Woodson—sometimes across generations. 

I first met Ms. Woodson at one of the National Conference of Artists (NCA) group exhibitions my father, the artist Saffell Gardner,  was a part of, back in their old Fisher Building gallery space. I don’t think I knew how to talk at the time but now I’m meeting with her again at her westside studio for a sprawling conversation encompassing her life and work. Below are some of the highlights.

Throughout your career you have worn many hats—artist, art historian, curator, educator, collector, and administrator—How did you get started in art and what was the moment you really locked into that as your path?

Well, I guess I locked into it immediately (laughs). As far back as I remember I was engaged with visual things and making things with my hands. My mother sewed and she was making things. She taught me how to embroider. 

When I was little, my mother’s cousin came to live with us. She embroidered and she drew things. We would draw and she drew very well. I know I didn’t have a sketchbook but I was always drawing. I was always engaged, in some sort of way, in visual making.

It wasn’t until I was in high school where I really began to paint. During high school I was taking classes at the Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA). We did a lot of watercolor and we’d go into the gallery. So you might be influenced by these various things around you—sometimes it would be textiles, fiber things, dresses—but central to whatever I did was painting.

So when it comes to your depiction of the figure, I know that one of your notable practices is to leave the figures with blank faces so as to invite the viewer in to engage with the piece. What sparked this decision in your work?

I got a commission to do an album cover on the poetry of Dudley Randall. So I put two figures in the picture and with one I covered the face and with one the mouth was open. What I was trying to put forth was the concept of the poet’s voice and not the visual, so I put a mask over his eyes. I liked that image so much I began using it as a way of indicating to the viewer that it’s anonymous but it could be them, trying to engage the viewer with the thought of putting their own imagination within that piece—to imagine what that would be.

In my work I was just trying to create an easier road—I guess a more direct road—for understanding and I gained that through teaching.

You have not only come up through the Detroit Public School (DPS) system but worked in the educational systems for Highland Park and as supervisor of fine arts for DPS. What drew you to education?

When I went to school, I went into art education. I enjoyed the idea of teaching. I had some excellent teachers along the way. After I got my degree—which, actually, I got in fine arts—I went back and got my certification in art education. 

One of the things I think about is how, these days, it can be very easy to take for granted—especially in a city like Detroit—that there is such a vibrant community of African American artists at work. And that was not always the case. I feel as though one of the big factors contributing to that was the National Conference of Artists (NCA)—which you co-founded in 1974. What was it like working as an artist at that time and what drove you to establish the Michigan chapter of the NCA?

Well, it was the whole Black Arts Movement actually beginning in the ‘60s, which came from the civil rights movement. There was a conference that was pulled together and it was planned at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. It was a major coming together, an invitation to writers, artists, musicians, theater people, and this large meeting-conference was called the Conference on the Functional Aspects of Black Art (CONFABA). This meeting was actually held the weekend that the students at Kent State were killed. So, here we are the only group—the only people—on campus at Northwestern and we met and we talked about, “as artists and writers, what can we do? Where do we fit?

For the [Black] artist at that time, it was tight. There was no place to show so artists began opening their own galleries. We were not established yet but we came out of our meeting with the NCA, hearing their voices say we need to establish chapters. So, in Detroit we said we would start one but we would call it the Michigan chapter so it would include anyone in the state. So that’s how that started and we began with a whole list of talks. We had artists come in from different parts of the country to speak at conferences, festivals, and meetings at Wayne State University, Highland Park College—where I was teaching at the time—and at other places around town.

We just kept spreading and then, after that, we got our first gallery at the David Whitney Building. Everything picked up and just kept going and growing—with varying audiences. I just think it's wonderful. Being the first is definitely admirable but it's about you maintaining your space, keeping your space, and continuing to define—not only that we’re here—but I'm here and this is my space.