By james art 
They have just arrived at the museum. The works of art. The creation of a spectacular exhibition of handmade works. Each, one might say, is a reflection of the artist’s soul. As with all new shows, the electricity of anticipation hangs in the air as museum staff fuss with the pieces at LeMoyne Arts in Tallahassee.
From a white van, sculptures, wood carvings, paintings and assemblages are carefully lifted and carried by curators and consultants up the stairs and into the galleries, where they will be exhibited for exclusive viewing – October 22 – November. 2.
And why “exceptional”? And why not a longer period? The answer lies in the license plate of the white van. “Madison” writes. Specifically, “Madison Correctional Facility.
LeMoyne’s Madison Correctional Institution inmate art exhibit, “Connections Without and Within,” opens from 5:00 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday, October 22.
This art is not actually “owned” by the artists who created it, but by the state of Florida. These works, filled with remarkable artistic virtuosity and certainly stunning imagination, cannot be bought or sold – in fact, only by special permission do the works leave the prison at all.
Prison Arts Program
Yet, ask any artist, those in an exclusive studio or in prison, and the goal is not to be found in the most expensive sales or even in high-end galleries, but rather in the act of creation – in speaking to a viewer a language that does not need words or money.
About 10 years ago, Madison Correctional Officer Sgt. Rolanda Mitchell founded the program now known as MAP, the Madison Arts Program. It is described as “a coordinated effort by staff and administration to positively support individuals during their incarceration so that they experience long-term positive outcomes.”
Using “arts-based” and “values-based” programming, the goal is to help inmates reach their “full potential and lead purposeful lives.”
The MAP program also includes literary arts classes covering basics like grammar and sentence construction, as well as writing and poetry workshops. Performing arts classes offer: choir, drama and improvisation, music appreciation and songwriting. Sergeant Mitchell writes that the program hopes to enable men who leave the program to be “visibly transformed—creative, not destructive, who can create purposeful plans for successful and lasting reintegration.”
And Sgt. Mitchell, a bright, radiant woman in a stark black uniform, continues to innovate for her program.
Experts, paper and soap
She has found outside colleagues and expertise to help. Dr. David Gusak, professor of art therapy for the past 20 years at FSU and currently program director of the FSU/FI Department of Art Therapy in Prisons, and Paula Gasparini-Santos, an artist, art therapist, and grief counselor, recently spent three days a week for two weeks, working intensively with the imprisoned artists.
“The artistic output of these people is astonishingly good,” says Santos. “But what we asked them was, ‘Who are you as artists?’ “And how do you create that bridge between what you feel and what you do — between what’s inside and what’s outside . We asked them to “go deep.” “
Gusak says the prison has created a “special place” for nearly 20 men who make art. “They actually live in a separate dormitory where the emphasis is on creation. They work in what is essentially a public space where others may play pool or games, but where these men create art.
But being an artist in prison has certain parameters. For example, what media you can create with. It turns out that cardboard, paper and soap contain magic if you have the talent and the will.
On display at LeMoyne are two 12-foot-plus giant totem poles with movable wings and beaks, brilliantly painted on detachable cardboard cylinders. There are several monolithic chess pieces, also cardboard, created by the men so that the compatriots in the “yard” could play a game of chess during a festival.
The brilliant paintings in acrylic and watercolor are careful and delicate; some great works of folk art seem to dance with artistic free associations. And then there are two seemingly impossible works in soap.
No names, powerful symbolism
None of the works are named or signed—only initials or symbols are used. Such is the case with two works carved from soft prison soap. The first sculpture, measuring approximately 18 x 18 inches, shows an intricately constructed oak tree with small leaves and fine-grained bark that bends to form a human.
The male figure is powerful, perhaps angry, holding a chisel and hammer, and he himself seems to erupt from the ground. Yet inside the man’s chest is a hole carved out, and in the hole is a delicate but very strong green leaf. Symbolism is powerful.
Another brown-lacquered soap sculpture suggests a local portrait.
Gusak, who has written numerous acclaimed books about his work with inmates, says “these guys are so grateful and excited to be able to exhibit their work in a museum like LeMoyne. Now others will see not only their work, but also them. It confirms them. It recognizes them as human.
And isn’t that exactly what we all want in the end.
If you go
What: “Connections Without and Within,” art by inmates at Madison Correctional Institution
When: 5-7:30 p.m. Tuesday, October 22, opening
where: LeMoyne Museum, 125 N. Gadsden St.
Panel Discussion: 11-12:00 Saturday, October 26, with the staff of Madison Correctional Institution. Muffins and mimosas.
This article originally appeared on the Tallahassee Democrat: Madison Prison Artists Explore ‘Connections’ in Soap, Paper