Roots and routes of a nomadic Cuban artist
by Leigh-Ann Jackson
Enter María Magdalena Campos-Pons’s exhibition at the Getty Museum and you will find yourself surrounded by depictions of water: in a poignant polyptych, two statues representing West African Dogon water gods stand in the middle of a sea; another watercolor shows a bird’s eye view of Black figures floating in a pool of blue. Moving through the galleries feels like embarking on a voyage. I traced the transatlantic route that carried enslaved people from West Africa to the Caribbean and, along the way, learned about the cultural significance and rituals of Santería, the Afro-Cuban religion rooted in Yoruba traditions that was passed down through generations of the artist’s family.
"The Calling," 2003. (María Magdalena Campos-Pons)
María Magdalena Campos-Pons: Behold is a survey of more than three decades' worth of photographs, videos, paintings, and sculptures by the lauded Cuban-born artist. The exhibition, which debuted at the Brooklyn Museum in 2023 and opened at the Getty last month, is steeped in themes of womanhood, family, spirituality, and migration — whether forced or voluntary.
Campos-Pons herself relocated from Cuba to Canada, then Boston, before settling in Nashville, where she’s currently a fine arts professor at Vanderbilt University. In her work, you find the impulse to hold onto roots and maintain connection over time and impossible distance. Lineage and legacy are woven through the show, complete with large-format Polaroid odes to Campos-Pons’ mother, as well as her Nigerian and Chinese ancestors.

"Finding Balance," 2015, is a composition made from 28 photographs. (María Magdalena Compos-Pons / Gallery Wendi Norris)
The works are deeply personal and often autobiographical (many feature self-portraits); they also strike a universal chord. Above all, I was deeply moved by her portrayals of women as caregivers and pillars of domestic life. In particular, the installation “Spoken Softly with Mama” speaks to the quiet, enduring strength of women who make and maintain the home, both for others and for their own families.
The multimedia work drew me in three separate times during my recent visit. The walled-off space that hosts it stands in stark contrast to the bright splashes of blues and reds that dominate the show. Here, the dark walls glow with slides of black-and-white photographs projected onto upright ironing boards — images of bygone women in their modest period best. On screens shaped to mirror the boards (a shape that itself echoes the form of slave ships), color video footage blinks with scenes of Campos-Pons engaged in slow, repetitive tasks. She folds and stacks linens embroidered with phrases like “her husband” and “her son.” She deliberately picks apart a pomegranate (a symbol of fertility). She paces barefoot, occasionally pausing to click her heels. There’s no place like home.
On the ground, an assortment of glass irons and trivets — once-common laundry and cooking tools — are arranged in intricate patterns. Meanwhile, an audio loop includes the soft singing of “Arroz con Leche,” an old Spanish-language lullaby whose original lyrics reinforce the gendered nature of domestic labor: “I want to get married … to a lady who knows how to sew, who knows how to embroider …”
The magnetic "Spoken Softly with Mama," 1998. (María Magdalena Cammpos-Pons and Neil Leonard)
Ultimately, it’s a beautiful, melancholic, yet inspiring examination of the many meanings of home. Campos-Pons acknowledges the domestic work that her forebears were once forced to do by their enslavers and by their male relatives. But she also represents home as a place of respite, comfort, and fellowship — a place where memories are stored.
In a 2024 interview, Campos-Pons says of the women she honored in this piece: “They were glorious. They were poor, but they were beautiful ... They were fabulous. And I come from that.”
Sitting on the bench in that dark room and taking in a shot of an elderly woman holding a baby here or a gaggle of young cousins there, it felt like sifting through keepsakes in grandma’s attic. The artist’s multimedia collage of handed-down family snapshots reminded me of my own experiences of unearthing fragile photographs of unknown stoney-faced women whose relationships to me, however distant, were spelled out in faded ink on the back. I never knew those ladies, never visited the homes they created, but I know I wouldn’t be here without them.
As it happens, I’d gone to the exhibition at the start of Women’s History Month, without even realizing it had begun. In hindsight, it was a perfect way to celebrate, and I feel called to go sit with “Spoken Softly with Mama” one more time before the month is out.
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Behold is on view at The Getty Center through May 4th; getty.edu.
Catch Campos-Pons at a pair of upcoming live events:
Sat. Mar 22nd, 5 PM — María Magdalena Campos-Pons with Kamaal Malak & The Funk. The performance invites audiences to reflect on loss, resilience, and regeneration through music, movement, and ritual. Tickets are free but required.
Sun. Mar 23rd, 4:30 PM — When I Am Not Here / Estoy Allá. A conversation with María Magdalena Campos-Pons and exhibition curators, Mazie Harris and Jenée-Daria Strand. Tickets are free but required.