Please Wait by the Coat Room: Essays on Art, Race, And Culture

by John Yau

A collection of essays about contemporary art, artists and culture.

Please Wait by the Coat Room includes essays on sculptors of color Luis Jimenez and John Outterbridge; a section on Korean abstract painters who were considered part of the Dansaekhwa movement (which has been translated as "monochromatic painting"); a section on "second generation Abstract Expressionists" such as the Black painter Ed Clark and the Japanese American painter Matsumi Kanemitsu.

248 pages, Hardcover

First published April 18, 2023

About the author

John Yau is an American poet and critic who lives in New York City. He received his B.A. from Bard College in 1972 and his M.F.A. from Brooklyn College in 1978. He has published over 50 books of poetry, artists' books, fiction, and art criticism.

Reviews

[James G. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am so grateful to @strimblesf of @anglimtrimble for giving me a copy of “Please Wait by the Coatroom” (2023) @black.sparrow.press by @johnyaupoet 🙇🏻Shannon gifted it to me in return for the @icasanjose’s brand new #BloodSweatAndTime (2024) @smingsmingbooks edited by @elteewilliams 📘

I devoured it, relishing Yau’s beautiful, ambling set of short essays on artists I adore, such as Noguchi, Asawa, Puryear, Ed Clark, and many more. Lam appears throughout 🇨🇺 I never forget running into @lowerysims leaving City College, having just defended her dissertation on Lam 🤗

There are clearly crafted and refreshing summaries, along with sweet revelations. Regarding Asawa, Yau writes how she had a “belief that art is an engagement that helps people become aware of the material world they inhabit and unlock their creative potential.” (p. 28) Kerry James Marshall says “I don’t see much difference between using Giotto or Bill Traylor…,” to which Yau adds, “…by rejecting, the hierarchical thinking that establishes what is great and what’s minor,… an academic way of dealing with the world…” (p. 140)🕺🏼Yau’s equating Clark’s use of brooms 🧹and Martin Wong‘s focusing on bricks 🧱 as representations of their sympathy for labor in their works was new to me 🤷🏻‍♂️and I liked it 🤔 tons of little get-you-thinking morsels throughout 💭

Yau’s penchant for ekphrasis 📝 the careful description of what works look like, how they feel to be seen, and using it to share the work of under-represented artists was the best defense for refining ones ekphratic skills. Yau brings you closer to the works 🖼️ you might not get the chance to experience in person, and the book is not illustrated.

Pardon my ignorance, and I hope not to appear too dense, but I also loved being introduced to a host of artists I didn’t already know:

1. Leo Amino (1911-1989)
2. Minoru Niizuma (1930-1998)
3. John Pai
4. Barbara Takenaka @barbaratakenaga
5. Matthew Wong (1984-2019)
6. David Diao @daviddiao43
7. Chie Fueki @chiefueki
8. Nadia Haji Omer @nadiahajiomar
9. Hannah Lee @anotherhannahlee
(Then I looked up Lee, and realized @mickihmeng had already introduced me to her work 😁)

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I was introduced to art criticism in college, it was via white men—the professors, the critics, and largely the artists too. Here, John Yau brings marginalized artists to the forefront— Asian, Black, Latino/a, Indigenous. He introduces forefathers and foremothers, some, like Wilfredo Lam, who were left to languish by the coatroom, and some, like Ruth Asawa and Jack Whitten, who were both celebrated with career retrospectives this year (at SF MoMA and MoMA, respectively). But it’s not just a call back to the elders in the field. Yau also introduces newer generations of artists who have not only followed in their footsteps but continue to blaze new trails. There noticeably could be more women and trans representation, but this slim volume gets readers thinking about what’s missing, who’s making the choices, and what’s coming next. Hoping for a volume 2.