GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. (WOOD) — The longer you look at graphic designer Dave McClinton’s art, the more details you’ll notice, from unique textures to historical references.

It all stems from the artist’s curiosity.

“It really was born out of the idea that I take a lot of photos of just things,” McClinton said. “And those are the things I use in my art.”

The Texas-based digital artist told News 8 he was sitting in a coffee shop one day when a sugar packet caught his eye. He took a photo of its golden logo.

Now, “Imperial Sugar” is being displayed at the Grand Rapids African American Museum and Archives for ArtPrize 2023.

“Imperial Sugar” is a triptych: The display includes three digitally-created portraits, arranged side by side.

“I make portraits by using an eye from a different source, a nose from a different source,” McClinton said. “These people actually don’t exist.”

"Imperial Sugar," a collection of three digitally-created portraits, is displayed at Grand Rapids African American Museum and Archives for ArtPrize 2023. (Courtesy David McClinton)
“Imperial Sugar,” a collection of three digitally-created portraits, is displayed at Grand Rapids African American Museum and Archives for ArtPrize 2023. (Courtesy David McClinton)

AN ‘OMINOUS, DARK HISTORY’

“Imperial Sugar” incorporates themes of unpaid labor and slavery, specifically in an area near Houston known as Sugar Land.

"Imperial Sugar I," the leftmost photo in the triptych. (Courtesy David McClinton)
“Imperial Sugar I,” the leftmost portrait in the triptych. (Courtesy David McClinton)

“The climate was just perfect for growing sugarcane, but the harvesting of sugarcane is so hard and so difficult. You’ve got to have a machete. It’s painful. You have to be strong,” McClinton explained. “You couldn’t pay people enough to do it. … You could only force people to do it.”

Then the 13th Amendment was ratified, ending slavery.

“The 13th Amendment stated that yes, slavery was over — except in instances of imprisoned people working, doing free labor as incarcerated inmates,” McClinton said.  “When that was passed, coincidentally or not, the prison population just tripled. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how those things got connected.”

McClinton said he grew up visiting Sugar Land, but learning the “ominous, dark history” has changed how he views the region.

“They’re still discovering — every time they try to build a new building or a new housing development, they’ll come across the bodies of convicts that have just been buried out in the field,” he said.

LAYERS OF METAPHOR, HISTORY

“Imperial Sugar” incorporates other pieces of history, too.

“I’m finding historical things that if whoever’s looking at the piece doesn’t ask, they’ll never know what it is,” McClinton said.

For instance, the artist told News 8 he incorporated the text of an eighteenth-century Virginia law into the “Imperial Sugar” portraits.

“It was page after page after page of how to deal and handle your slaves,” McClinton said.

Someone looking at the piece can pick out certain phrases, he said: “white men,” “majesty’s colony.”

“When you crop (the text) in a certain way, you only get bits and pieces of it, but it’s still enough,” he said. “Despite the desire to hide certain stories in this country, you can still see and understand what the story is about, by only reading a handful of words.”

"Imperial Sugar II," the central portrait in the triptych. (Courtesy David McClinton)
“Imperial Sugar II,” the central portrait in the triptych. (Courtesy David McClinton)

With general themes of unpaid labor and slavery in mind, McClinton told News 8 he adds plenty of subtle metaphors to his work.

“I equate structural things and things that carry weight or provide a pathway — things like asphalt, the bark of a tree, concrete walls, things that are holding other things up — I equate those things to Black bodies,” he explained. “The reason being is … the idea that mostly Black bodies built this country right up to a certain point, essentially for free.”

McClinton pointed to “Imperial Sugar II,” the central portrait in the triptych. In the dome of the head, he said, he incorporated a photo he had taken several years ago of a walkway made of buried glass bottles.

“It fits into the metaphor of this pathway that carries the weight of all these people,” McClinton said.

Throughout the piece, there are also hints of brushed steel in the background.

The artist noted that the skin in “Imperial Sugar” contains textures from buffalo and cow hide, alluding to beasts of burden.

“The metaphor is pretty similar,” he said.

‘WE’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE’

"Imperial Sugar III," the rightmost photo in the triptych. (Courtesy David McClinton)
“Imperial Sugar III,” the rightmost portrait in the triptych. (Courtesy David McClinton)

McClinton told News 8 that “Imperial Sugar” is ultimately about resilience and pride.

“My first solo show, I titled ‘Despite It All,'” he said. “I think that’s going to be the running theme forever in my work. … We’re — and when I say we, I mean Black Americans — we’re here. We’re not going anywhere. We’re living our lives despite everything that’s been done and, in some cases, still being done.”

The artist said he is careful to ensure none of the faces he creates look defeated or afraid.

“Even though I’m cloaking them in this history of pain, the look on the face is a look of defiance and resilience,” McClinton said.