“FAT, BLACK AND UGLY IN TIMES SQUARE”: Confronting the Layers of Black Representation in Art
BY CAROLINA W.
Recently, I found myself in the middle of Times Square, camera in hand, ready to capture Thomas J. Price’s striking statue. The figure, a Black woman, monumental in scale, stood proudly in the bustling chaos of New York City. I was captivated. The way Price rendered her as strong, human, present, it felt like a refreshing counterpoint to the polished, commercialised depictions of Blackness that dominate media and public spaces.
But as I adjusted my lens, I overheard two women of colour nearby muttering comments I didn’t expect like “ugly” and “why is she so fat?” floated past me. I paused, genuinely surprised. Here I was, a woman from the UK, appreciating a work that I felt celebrated Black humanity in its fullness and yet these women’s reactions revealed something far more complicated than mere taste.
Their response, as jarring as it was, opened a conversation in my mind about what W.E.B. Du Bois famously described as “double consciousness” - the way marginalised people internalise and project the perceptions of the dominant culture onto themselves. Within the scope of Black art, this manifests as a tension over what forms of Blackness are deemed acceptable or “beautiful” in public representation. Often, the Black figures society is comfortable seeing are those that align with White standards of beauty or if they diverge, they are cast in a mythic or magical frame, rendered untouchable or decorative rather than real.
Thomas J. Price’s statue does not sanitise Blackness for mass consumption. It does not sparkle with gold or glide through a narrative of magic or trauma. She is just a Black woman, existing as she might in real life, with a body and presence that are human and not idealistic. By dismissing her value based on attractiveness through the lens of White beauty standards, we risk perpetuating the very biases that have long devalued Black bodies.
Historically, the representation of Black people in Western art has been a minefield. From caricatures to the hyper-idealised “magical” Black figures of contemporary public art, Black bodies have been judged, constrained and commodified for centuries. The pressure to conform to a sanitised or fetishised standard is not new, it’s a legacy of colonialism, slavery and centuries of visual propaganda.
What is the solution? Dialogue and reflection are the first steps. Art like Price’s challenges us to interrogate our biases and question the origins of our discomfort. Representation must be expanded to include the full spectrum of Black (and other marginalised ethnicities’) experiences and forms - beyond beauty and mythology. Public art institutions, critics and audiences need to recognise that celebrating Blackness does not require filtering it through a lens of acceptability or palatability.
For those of us engaging with public art today, whether through social media or in-person encounters, there’s a responsibility to pause and reflect before judgment. Capturing a photo of the statue on Instagram is not just about aesthetics, it’s about participating in a broader cultural conversation about value, visibility and self-recognition. By seeing and affirming Blackness in its diversity, we begin to dismantle the internalised hierarchies that have long dictated what is “worthy” of admiration.
That day in Times Square, I snapped the picture. The statue looked magnificent through my lens, monumental against the chaos of the city, a Black woman unapologetically existing. And for a moment, I held hope that more of us, regardless of geography, might start seeing Black art not as a reflection of who is deemed attractive, but as a celebration of who we truly are.