Allison Osei-Okrah
Contributing Writer
From Jan. 28 to March 18, the College of Wooster Art Museum (CWAM) is displaying a new exhibition: “Art is Dangerous: Artists on Justice and Equality.” I visited the exhibit —— my first time at the museum prompted me to explore the theme of “art as dangerous.”
The exhibition wasn’t just art hanging on walls. It was a confrontation. A collection of works by Black, Native American, feminist, and queer artists each piece created with the intent to challenge, disturb and demand attention. The room buzzed with the kind of silence that isn’t empty, but charged. You could feel its energy.
The back wall of the gallery was covered with a collection of posters by feminist art group Guerrilla Girls. One flier, emblazoned with a bold black font, read, “It’s even worse in Europe.” Across the room, a 1992 lithograph, “Untitled (lips)” by Lorna Simpson, displayed a pair of lips copied one above the other in a column that ran parallel to thin black lines. The lines, which were labeled with different height markers, seemed to represent the deconstructed human body.
None of us knew what to expect. Some of us had never even stepped inside the College of Wooster Art Museum before —— we were just students in a journalism class, required to be present. But from the moment we entered, something shifted.
The power of art lies in its ability to be interpreted in different ways. One student stopped in front of a painting and whispered, “I don’t know if this is supposed to feel violent, but it does.” Another person, staring at the same piece, said, “I actually think it’s about survival.” A third voice added, “I was drawn to the colors before I even realized what it meant.”
That’s the thing about art. It refuses to be one thing. It refuses to be safe.
Toni Morrison said, “The history of art … has always been bloody because dictators and people who want to control and deceive know exactly the people who will disturb their plans. And those people are artists.”
But what about the viewers? What about us?
Art is dangerous because no two people see the same artwork the same way. Our history shapes what we see. Our perspective defines what it means. Art forces individuals to confront their biases, beliefs and assumptions. What one person sees as a call to justice, another may see as a disruption to the status quo. This multiplicity of meanings makes art an inherently powerful and, at times, a destabilizing force.
The artists in this exhibition assert autonomy over their own bodies and demand recognition of their identities. They call out unequal representation in power structures and expose the systemic violence inflicted on their communities by racism, sexism and homophobia. At a time of deep division, anxiety and uncertainty, they challenge the deeply rooted white supremacist, patriarchal and capitalist structures that remain entrenched in contemporary life. Their work does not ask politely to be seen — it demands it.
Art’s danger lies in its ability to evoke different responses from viewers who bring their own lived experiences and worldviews into the interpretation process. It is in this tension —— between artist intent, audience reception and personal bias —— that the true transformative potential of art emerges.
By engaging with this exhibition, we step into a space where our perspectives are challenged, our assumptions unsettled and our understanding of the world expanded — reminding us that art doesn’t just mirror reality, but has the power to transform it.
Maybe that’s the real danger of art: once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
