We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful M. Anne Sweet. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Anne below.

Alright, Anne thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

The working title for my most recent and ongoing project is “Project 27 – Never Forget.”

I am a descendant of Hannibal Hamlin, who was vice president under Abraham Lincoln during Lincoln’s first term as president. Project 27 began from the seeds of research I undertook to learn more about Hamlin. I wanted to learn why he was not vice president during Lincoln’s second term, when Lincoln was assassinated, and I was also curious to find out how Hamlin felt about slavery. The short answers to these questions are that Hamlin was strongly opposed to slavery, and he was not on Lincoln’s second-term ballot for political reasons. It was felt that having Andrew Johnson, from the southern border state of Tennessee, was politically crucial, compared to Hamlin, who was from the politically-secured state of Maine.

“Mason-Dixon Line: The Cost of Cotton” was the first visual art piece to arise from this research. It represents a mix of family history, US history, and political commentary.

I began by bisecting the piece from west to east with a jagged, red border that replicates the Mason-Dixon Line, which came to represent the division between northern free states and southern slave states.

On the northern side, the piece includes a portion of text from the Emancipation Proclamation, which took effect on January 1, 1863, while Hamlin was vice president. My research found that Hamlin was an early supporter of emancipation, prior to Lincoln’s stance on emancipation.

The piece also includes the image of a white woman with her back turned to the back of a brutally-beaten black man, holding her finger to her lips, indicating silence.

Next to that I juxtaposed a poster from 1851 warning: “Colored People of Boston, one & all, you are hereby respectfully cautioned and advised to avoid conversing with the Watchmen and Police Officers of Boston, for since the recent order of the Mayor and Aldermen, they are empowered to act as Kidnappers and Slave Catchers …”

In the upper right-hand corner, I included a reference to the DAR, Daughters of the American Revolution, of which my grandmother, my mother and her sisters were members. In contrast to Hamlin’s support of emancipation, the DAR has the disturbing history of having refused to allow acclaimed African-American contralto Marian Anderson to perform to an integrated audience in the DAR’s Constitution Hall in Washington, DC. That same year, on Easter Sunday, 1939, with help from First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, Anderson sang on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to an integrated crowd of more than 75,000 and a radio audience of millions.

The bodice of the white woman’s dress and the letters DAR include lace that is 100 percent cotton. Flowing downward from the bodice of the dress, I painted a large blue swath that becomes the Middle Passage of the Atlantic Ocean. This blue swath is filled with figures representing the millions of African lives that were lost during these crossings.

I filled a section of the southern portion of the piece with bolls of cotton, with their sharp bracts, spilling as if from a canvas sack. On a black background are figures that represent the millions of Africans who survived the perilous trans-Atlantic crossing, only to become enslaved when they reached US, South American, or Caribbean ports.

The figures that are incorporated in the piece are from a slave ship drawing that was intended to illustrate how many enslaved persons could be transported on board the ship. One of the rooms on the ship was labeled “Store Room,” along with the number 27, indicating that the room could hold 27 individuals. I came to realize that while the figures appear to be identical, whoever had drawn them had actually made each one different in size and shape, placing their arms, legs, and heads in various positions. I began to think of each of these figures as an individual.

As a descendant of Hannibal Hamlin, I continue to examine what I have to say about enslavement and racism today, when it seems there is much that remains unchanged more than 150 years later. As a white person, how do I face what has been done in the past and how can I engage in change going forward.

I envision a project that will include 27 pieces, hence, the title “Project 27 – Never Forget.” At this writing, eleven visual art pieces have grown out of the project, with another work in progress, and I have composed 15 poems that will be incorporated with the visual and written dialog.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

My lifetime journey through art and poetry has been a circuitous one.

From a young age, I had an interest in art, earning an art badge as a Girl Scout Brownie … until the fifth grade, when my teacher, who I adored, made a disparaging remark about a piece I had just completed. The drawing illustrated a very small Jack standing next to the Giant’s boot from the fairy tale, Jack and the Beanstalk. I was excited about the perspective of the tiny Jack next to the Giant’s large boot (and leg, which extended out of the drawing). I don’t even remember now what the teacher said about the drawing, but at that age, it crushed me, and I didn’t do any art again until my senior year of high school.

After graduation, I attended the University of New Mexico with the intent of getting a degree in biology. Soon I decided to switch from biology to art and art history. When I went to the biology professor who needed to sign off on my change of major, the professor asked me if my headband was the sign of an artist.

During high school and college, in addition to art, I also pursued creative writing, especially poetry.

During one summer break from college, I returned home to Anchorage, Alaska, where my sister had applied for a job as a graphic artist at a small print shop. Before she heard back from them, she accepted another job as a retail clerk in a department store. When the print shop called to ask if she was still interested in the job, she referred them to me. I was hired, beginning what would become my lifetime career as a graphic artist.

The following summer I was hired as the graphic artist for a monthly business magazine, called Alaska Industry. This later led to being hired by the Washington Thoroughbred Breeders and Owners Association (WTBOA) as the graphic artist for their then-monthly magazine, Washington Thoroughbred.

I studied fine art at the University of New Mexico, but throughout my career, most of my training as a graphic artist was learned on the job from other accomplished graphic artists and/or was self-taught. Later, as I compared my skills to those of other graphic artists who had been formally trained, I found that my on-the-job/self-taught training had been equally valuable, having taught me “tricks of the trade” and other insights and skills that have served me well in my profession.

My self-taught training came through books and how-to manuals in print, long before the availability of YouTube videos, although my ongoing self-exploration and self-expansion of skills continues through those now-accessible digital formats and online tutorials.

The graphic arts field changed as time went on, from literal cut and paste on a light table with an X-Acto knife, a t-square, and hot wax to the now ever-advancing digital world.

Early on I taught myself HTML code for creating websites by reading a 600-page manual page by page. Later, I created websites with Dreamweaver and more recently with WordPress.

In my 40-plus years with the WTBOA, my initial job was as a graphic artist and then art director for the monthly magazine, designing ads for advertisers, as well as designing editorial layouts and creating cover designs. The work for advertisers sometimes included full-color, glossy brochures promoting their farms and stallion rosters. I also designed promotional fliers, posters, and brochures for the association.

From the beginning, creating advertising included input from the advertiser. However, due to the physical nature (at that time) of creating hard-copy art work to send to the printer, it was not always possible for the advertiser to see a proof of the ad before it went to press. Every effort was made to create a product that would be pleasing to the customer, but even in the best of times, occasional disappointments were inevitable.

It wasn’t until the digital age that it became feasible to provide a digital proof to the customer before it went to press. One of the most gratifying things that working in the digital world has taught me is the great benefit and enjoyment of being able to collaborate with advertisers when creating their product, be it an ad for the magazine or a brochure. It never fails to excite and amaze me when an advertiser has a suggestion that is just “the” thing that the ad or brochure might have needed.

Collaboration with clients and other artists was an important lesson and has become on ongoing theme, professionally and otherwise.

As a graphic artist, turned art director, turned editor of the magazine, it never occurred to me that I would become the general manager of the WTBOA. However, due to attrition and changes in the Thoroughbred industry, I found myself as general manager.

By the time I came to that position, I was fortunate to have worked with the previous general manager for 30 years. By that time, I had absorbed a good deal of knowledge about the Thoroughbred industry. By osmosis, similar to the way one absorbs life lessons and behaviors from a parent, I had absorbed his high moral standards and his tactful, kind, and respectful manner in dealing with people. I had learned the ability to work independently, while also working as a team with other employees, and I learned to take satisfaction in one’s work and a job well done, with or without recognition from others. All of these lessons helped me continue to learn and to grow as I became an effective leader, interfacing with all facets of the Thoroughbred industry.

As our staff continued to dwindle, I continued to carry on the duties of graphic artist, art director, and editor, while also becoming informed and knowledgeable about the business aspects of running the association.

It became clear when I announced my retirement that I had gained a great deal of respect throughout the Thoroughbred industry. I was humbled and honored to receive one of the Washington Thoroughbred industry’s highest awards, the S. J. Agnew Special Achievement Award, for a lifetime of service to the industry.

Throughout my working career, I continued to follow the path of creativity. After I started working for the WTBOA, I purchased my first horse. From my first moments in the saddle, it felt natural and familiar. This began an enriching and creative time of participating in the equine artistry of dressage, as well as three-day eventing, which combined dressage, stadium jumping, and cross-country jumping – another form of collaboration between myself and my horse, two beings working in unison. After 20 years of riding and competing, when my horse was ready to retire, I turned again to writing poetry.

As an artist and poet, I have exhibited and performed throughout the Pacific Northwest. Since 2009, I have maintained a working studio at Equinox Studios in the Georgetown area of Seattle. My work includes mixed media and digital art pieces, as well as creating large-format, fine art giclée prints for myself and other artists. I continue to write poetry.

I was fortunate to land in a circle of writers and poets with whom I have maintained fertile and creative friendships since the 1990s. We have workshopped, read, and performed as The Seattle Five Plus One. In 1995, we published an anthology, The Seattle Five Plus One: Poetry (Pig Iron Press). Various members of the group have come and gone over the years, but the core group remains intact.

In addition to performing with The Seattle Five Plus One, I have performed individually, as well as with Project Z and the Daughters of Dementia. Other literary credits include a book-length poetry collection, Nailed to the Sky (2003, Gazoobi Tales); three graphic poem chapbooks (in the genre of graphic novels); and I am a past winner of the Bart Baxter Poetry in Performance Competition. Numerous poems have been included in publications such as Feminine Collective, Raven Chronicles, The Comstock Review, Switched-On Gutenberg, Crab Creek Review, Main Street Rag Poetry Journal, PoetsWest Literary Journal, Pontoon, and others.

Through poetry, I met the late artist and musician Chuck Smart. As a musician, he had spent many years leading improvisational groups that included musicians, poets, and dancers. His approach was one of collaboration, which became key to my way of thinking in all areas of my creativity. It was with Chuck and other musicians, with me as the spoken word “instrument,” that we performed as Project Z. Working with the musicians influenced the rhythm and “music” of my poetry.

Chuck also was instrumental in encouraging me to begin doing visual art again, beyond the graphic art that I was doing professionally to earn a living, which supported my creative endeavors. During these years, he also introduced me to jazz, which continues to be a vibrant and compelling influence.

Chuck was a pioneer in the field of digital art. Because of his influence, as well as my background in graphic arts, my early return to visual art was mostly through a combination of photography and digital art. This led to my purchase of an Epson wide-format archival printer, which we used for printing his work and mine. The Epson printer continues to be an integral part of my practice, not only for myself, but for other artists as well.

One of my ongoing joys is bringing the work of other artists to life on the printed page. The word collaboration comes again to mind. For the artist, seeing their work printed on paper or canvas – whether it is a digital artwork or a digital reproduction of an original oil or acrylic – provides another way of viewing the piece, another way of being informed about the piece, some new insight may be gained, not to mention the joy of seeing it vibrantly displayed in print. And, for myself, I admit to the great pleasure I experience when viewing the artist’s work in a much more intimate way than I might otherwise.

In more recent years, my visual art pieces have continued to evolve, including digital art and photography, while also delving into mixed media use of acrylic, pen and ink, collage (paper and objects), fabric, and stitching.

I have participated in numerous solo and group shows and have been the recipient of purchase awards from City of SeaTac, WA, the Equine Art Show (Auburn, WA), and others. Two series of black and white photographs have appeared in editions of Raven Chronicles.

It is not uncommon for my visual art pieces to also incorporate poetry. Conversely, my poetic images create visual images in the mind’s eye for the reader. Combining poetry and visual art, I have created three “graphic poems,” similar to the genre of graphic novels, and my most recent full-length collection of poetry, titled House of Muscle and Bone, includes drawings in black and white that are companion pieces to the poems. I also have a chapbook, Sun Dance, which I am circulating in search of a publisher.

Now that I am retired from my professional career, I am able to spend more time pursuing my visual art and poetry, as well as I am learning to play the upright acoustic bass, circling back to an ongoing passion for all things jazz and on which I hope to accompany myself as I read or perform my poetry.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

When I returned to creating visual art outside of my professional field of being a graphic artist, I had to learn to step outside of my graphic artist self. I had to unlearn being a graphic artist.

There was a great deal of creativity in the design of various projects that I did as a graphic artist for the Thoroughbred industry and the monthly magazine. But those designs were straightforward, focused on advertising the farms and their stallions – designed for a particular market, with strong, clean lines.

When I began working on my own art again, it took me a while to shake loose of the more rigid design constraints that I was used to. Even now, I fight against that at times. Many of my early visual pieces had a “graphic arts” feel to them, rather than a freer, more fluid feel … and certainly far from the painterly feel that my friend, the late artist and musician Chuck Smart, was able to achieve in his digital and mixed media paintings.

On the other hand, one consistent comment I have received is that my visual art pieces often tell a story. In my design layouts for the Thoroughbred magazine, it was my goal to tell a visual story, through photos and illustrations, that supported the story in the written text.

Whether as a graphic artist or a visual artist, it seems that I remain a story teller. I haven’t so much “unlearned” being a graphic artist, but rather I embrace it while also pushing the boundaries to find what lies beyond.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

Some of my most rewarding times come during the monthly art walks we have at the art complex where I have my studio, Equinox Studios in the Georgetown area of Seattle.

As guests come in, I observe how they may engage with me as an artist. Sometimes they are intent on looking at the art. Sometimes I initiate a conversation by asking if they have been to Equinox Studios before and then see where the conversation leads.

Sometimes these exchanges are just casual niceties. Sometimes the exchanges lead to deeper discussions based on the themes of one or more of the works of art, including the themes of enslavement and racism. I have had meaningful conversations about these themes with individuals of all races. Those who are open to dialog are often moved by the themes portrayed, while also honest in expressing their thoughts and reactions.

One evening I observed a Black couple conversing about a piece and pointing to something that the man said needed to be changed. I asked if he minded if I asked what needed to be changed. He pointed to the word slaves and commented that it should be enslaved persons. The comment was breathtaking. My eyes were opened. I made the change.

Another evening I had a lengthy conversation with an African American artist about our shared, and yet very different, histories. Noting the powerful antiracism themes in my pieces, he suggested that I should join the DAR, Daughters of the American Revolution. Because of the history of the DAR, I had never entertained the idea of becoming a member, although as a descendant Hannibal Hamlin and as a granddaughter, daughter, and niece of women who were DAR members, I would be eligible. I admit that I smiled as I caught on to the covert action he suggested … Become a member of this unsuspecting group, and then present them with “Project 27 – Never Forget” and the message that it conveys. “Work from within,” he told me.

Oftentimes, even quiet viewers, intent only on looking at the art, will tell me something about what they are reacting to, by where they linger while looking or their body language. Or if there is more than one person, it can be enlightening to eavesdrop on their comments to each other, what they are reacting to and why.

Sometimes I notice that, for whatever reason, on a particular evening, one particular piece may receive more interest than the others, as if there was a universal, unwritten “theme” for the evening.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.studiosixeight.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mannesweet/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/m.anne.sweet/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/m-anne-sweet-36444b12/
• Other: ETSY: https://www.etsy.com/shop/studiosixeight/?etsrc=sdt

Image Credits
The initial portrait of myself should be credited to Michelle Smith-Lewis. Thank you.