Almost Unknown, The Afric-American Picture Gallery at Winterthur

Art is an act of imagination. It requires human creativity (even the United States Copyright Office agrees). It also requires space in which to be created and to be displayed. How much art has gone unseen or unmade because of the lack of space, both physical and metaphorical?

That question haunts Almost Unknown, The Afric-American Picture Gallery, which opened May 3 at Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library. The exhibition is inspired by "Afric-American Picture Gallery," a seven-piece essay published in Anglo-African Magazine in 1859—two years before the start of the American Civil War. It was written by William J. Wilson, under the nom de plume Ethiop. Wilson described himself as a flâneur, an "idle" stroller who took in the views from his Brooklyn neighborhood and used them as inspiration for his columns in Frederick Douglass' Paper, among other publications.

Image from the original publication of "Afric-American Picture Gallery" in Anglo-African Magazine, 1859

"The first thing noticeable, is the unstudied arrangement of these pictures. They seem rather to have been put up out of the way, many of them, than hung for any effect."

View through gallery wall into the depiction of George Washington and Mount Vernon, imagined in Wilson's essay as "now alas, all in a state of dilapidation and decay." (Image Credit: Winterthur Museum)

There was, of course, no gallery dedicated to African American art or Black people in 1859. The museums and galleries that did exist in the antebellum period largely excluded Black figures, or included degrading depictions of minstrels or caricatures. Wilson's museum may not have existed, but the art described was no less important than what was included in those that did.

Ethiop, the "narrator" of the original essay, describes an armchair from which he views the gallery and greets visitors. The objects shown are from Winterthur's collection, with a quote from the essay on the wall behind reading, "I stumbled over the Afric-American Picture Gallery, which has since become one of my dearest retreats wherein to spend many an otherwise weary hour, with profit and pleasure[.]" (Image Credit: Winterthur Museum)

Alexandra Deutsch, Director of Collections at Winterthur, reinforced this in her own remarks, saying, "Remind yourself as you move through the space, you are seeing imagination made manifest." The exhibition is more than just a display of objects; it is a journey through what could have been and what can be when artists and art are given the space to exist.

The exhibit is a piece of art in itself. Curated inventively and thoughtfully by Dr. Jonathan Michael Square, Assistant Professor of Black Visual Culture at Parsons School of Design, it presents a journey through Wilson's essay illustrated with pieces from Winterthur's collection and on loan from other museums.

". . . let the reader, with me enter into the almost unknown Gallery."

Trivet from Winterthur's collection, interpreted in this exhibit as possibly representing sankofa.

The entrance includes an object not included in Wilson's imagined gallery, but which caught Square's eye as he walked through Winterthur's galleries: a simple trivet, shaped like a heart, made by a Pennsylvania artisan sometime in the late 1700s. Square noted that the symbol was reminiscent of sankofa, from the Akan culture of West Africa, which translates as "go back and get it." But it is a more powerful concept, which "encourages individuals to reflect on their past, learn from their history, and use that knowledge to propel themselves forward," as described in the object label. This image, literally reflected on the gallery entrance's wall, invites visitors to reimagine more than just the objects and figures that are present, but also what could and should be.

Square took inspiration from many sources, creating an exhibition that brings elements of pantomime, theater, literature, history, craft, and filmmaking to enhance the art and objects on display. Each room deserves an essay of its own, and the short film which describes the creation of the gallery itself is fascinating. One of the artists who worked on the displays noted in the film that "Everything from funhouses to horror movies" were used as influences. They specifically cite the classic silent horror film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari as inspiration for the twisted, off-kilter visuals and cutouts that allow visitors to peek through walls into other rooms, layering objects in space and context. "It changes how you experience the space," Deutsch noted.

Gallery wall displaying empty frames on a trompe l'oeil-sketched background surrounding a quote from Wilson's essay: "The walls are spacious, and contain ample room for more, and, in many instances, better paintings; and many niches yet vacant for busts and statues." (Image Credit: Winterthur Museum)

What is not on display is as present as the objects that are, represented by empty frames and spaces throughout the gallery. What could have been is just as important, the exhibition constantly reminds viewers. This sentiment is also true in the original essay, when Ethiop muses upon portraits that should have been included: that of a "Slave Holder and a Slave Catcher in search of runaways." This is represented by two unexpected, but entirely appropriate, objects.

"The forepart of my journey contained little of interest if I except the appearance and movements of two travellers whose portraits ought to be hung in our Gallery for the benefit of both Afric and Anglo American. . . . Incidentally I learned that they were a Slave Holder and a Slave Catcher in search of runaways, and mistook me for one."

Display of "Two portraits that ought to be hung up," featuring Self-Portrait of John Singleton Copley and a government-issued slave badge, representing the "Slave Holder and Slave Catcher" of Wilson's essay.

The first, that of the Slave Holder, is Self-Portrait of John Singleton Copley, a work of art ensconced in an ornate gilt frame from Winterthur's own collection. The famous artist is known for his portraits of the New England colonial elite, but his identity as an enslaver is often overlooked. The Slave Catcher is ensconced in an object of his trade: a government-issued slave badge from Charleston, required to be worn by enslaved individuals to identify them by number, rather than name. The combination of these two objects—an oft-studied and renowned self-portrait highlighting the individual and a tarnished tag reducing a human to a standardized, controlled unit—catches the eye and presents an arresting, insightful view of two very real historical identities.

Wilson's essay introduces "Tom Onward," representing Black youth while contrasting characterizations presented in Uncle Tom's Cabin. This pantomime explores his journey, accompanied by silhouettes and voiceover. (Image Credit: Winterthur Museum)

When originally discussing the exhibition, Square was asked to create a mood board—which, for a fashion historian and professor at one of the most famous schools of fashion design, was an ideal way to dive into curation. "It is giving Edgar Allen Poe mixed with Uncle Tom's Cabin," Square said, noting inspirations as seemingly disparate as casinos and the horror films of Jordan Peele. "I was given carte blanche to do whatever I wanted, which is unusual," he said.

Vintage stereoscope through which viewers can see an image of the earliest-known surviving billiard table made in the US, which was in the greenhouse of Wye Plantation, where Frederick Douglass was enslaved for eighteen months, and now is on display in the Billiard Room at Winterthur. "Gaze deeply into this stereoscope and conjure within your mind’s eye the clacking of billiard balls as enslaved people toiled within earshot," the text below reads, accompanied by audio of people playing billiards.

The result is am immersive experience that is deeply affecting, while also inspiring, evocative, and resonant. It feels entirely of the moment and aspirational, reflecting on the history that is and the one that could have been. Every element deserves its own essay, which I hope will be explored in many more aspects by diverse voices over the course of the exhibition and beyond. While Williams did not see his museum realized, this essay brought to life puts a version of his imagined reality on view—in Ethiop's final words—"for the inspection of the curious."

Almost Unknown, The Afric-American Picture Gallery is on view at Winterthur Museum, Gardens & Library through January 4, 2026. A House Tour, Almost Unknown: Continue the Journey, is also available. A Virtual Course and Symposium led by guest curator Dr. Jonathan Michael Square will be held in the summer and fall. Find more information at Winterthur.org.