Latest news with #AlisonCroneyMoses
Boston Globe
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Alison Croney Moses, a Boston artist dedicated to bringing Black motherhood to light, wins de Cordova Museum's $50,000 Rappaport Prize
Alison Croney Moses, who works mostly in wood, carefully manipulates a scale model of her Triennial project earlier this year. Lane Turner/Globe Staff Advertisement Moses was already having a banner year. Her piece called 'This Moment for Joy,' an angular splay of undulating planks of red oak commissioned by the inaugural Boston Public Art Triennial, is perched prominently on an expanse of lawn at the Charlestown Navy Yard right now, in eyeshot of the U.S.S. Constitution Museum. In August, she'll be one of the artists featured in the Outward appearances of success, though, can be misleading. Moses, who balances her art career with the active lives of her two young children, has struggled to find space and time to pursue her work. The prize, she said, is like a pressure valve being released. 'Honestly, I really was in tears,' she said. 'It's hard to tell from the outside, because I know it looks like I'm doing very well, but financially, being an artist in Boston is difficult. It's really, really difficult. This gives me space to breathe.' Advertisement The timing of the prize could hardly have come at a better time. Moses, whose work is largely sculpture, and mosly in wood, has only been able to devote herself full-time to making art in the last two years; before that, she had a 10-year career working in non-proifts, leaving art to brief slivers of time in the evening and on weekends, when work and parenting weren't in the way. Alison Croney Moses, left, and Izaiah Rhodes, her assistant, working on her Triennial commission in her Boston studio this year. TONY LUONG/NYT The prize places no restrictions on how the money can be used, and does not require artists to produce a piece or body of work. On a follow-up call with the Rappaport family, the local philanthropists who fund the prize, Moses made clear both her gratitude and how important a no-strings-attached gift can be for any artist. 'Any time I've had access to unrestricted funding, it's given me the opportunity to get deeper into my practice, 'she said. 'Literally, right before that Zoom call, I was looking at job postings, really thinking: Do I need a full-time job again? Something like this tells me: You are an artist. You should be doing this. And that's huge.' One thing the prize can no longer provide, unfortunately, is the winner being given a solo exhibition at the de Cordova, which it did for many years. The museum has been closed since 2023 for an overhaul of its HVAC system (the last was Advertisement An exhibition of some of Alison Croney Moses's work at the Abigail Ogilvy Gallery in Boston. Mel Taing Thematically, she's devoted: 'This Moment for Joy,' a minimalist cocoon that ripples and curls into a protective embrace, is a monument to the warmth of the Black women in her life who inspire and support her; using elegant wood forms, Moses means to honor Black motherhood and interrogate a society that has made it perilous and undervalued for generations. The prize, she said, is opening her mind to expansive treatments on the theme. A project she's been mulling involving sound and video – both firsts for her, and a real risk to attempt with bills to pay – now seems possible. 'Right now, I work deadline to deadline,' she said. 'I don't ever feel like I'm really able to dream and experiment. Now, I can.' Alison Croney Moses's 'This Moment for Joy,' a project of the Boston Public Art Triennial, remains at the Charlestown Navy Yard, 1 - 5th St. , through Oct. 31. The Foster Prize exhibition opens August 28 at the Institute for Contemporary Art Boston, 25 Harbor Shore Drive. Murray Whyte can be reached at
Boston Globe
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Alison Croney Moses's ‘This Moment for Joy' is beautiful shelter
When she conceived of the sculpture last fall, 'we were not in this particular moment,' the artist said, referring to the turmoil and anxiety Donald Trump's presidency brought to her world. But after the election, a safe space for joy seemed all the more urgent. Advertisement Croney Moses,42, has been making rounded wood sculptures since her grad school days at Rhode Island School of Design. It was only when she had children – now six and eight – that she found her artistic mission. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up 'I have done a lot of work in my art practice to process my experience of that transition' to motherhood, she said. 'The societal context in which that happens is not caring and supportive — specifically for Black women.' Alison Croney Moses shapes laminated wood for a scale model of her Triennial installation in her Allston studio. (Lane Turner/Globe Staff) Lane Turner/Globe Staff Black women are Advertisement When she sought out community with other Black women, she found healing, and with other mothers, organized gatherings for joy and play. 'We have to find our joy, we as women, to feel free regardless of what society is doing,' Croney Moses said. 'To feel free, we have to lean into our joy so that we actually have balance in our lives.' Her own bodily experience began to inform her sculptures — womblike vessels, pods referring to babies, surfaces like skin — and Croney Moses's career took flight. In 2023, she left her job as associate director of the 'I'm on a tipping point of, 'Am I rooted in Boston? Is this feasible for me to continue my art practice and continue to grow?',' she said. 'Things like the Boston Triennial, I think, make it feasible.' Then there's community. 'This Moment for Joy' is a space for gathering. 'This piece really has Black women in mind, but it's for everyone,' she said. 'I hope everyone feels welcomed and encouraged to gather there.' Alison Croney Moses's "This Moment for Joy" during the fabrication process at 4N Woodworks in Lowell. (credit?) Alison Croney Moses Croney Moses and two other Boston artists, Andy Li and Evelyn Rydz, took part in the Advertisement 'You don't really learn public art in school,' said Triennial assistant curator Jasper A. Sanchez, who runs the program. 'It's designed as an on-ramp for public art.' The group learned how to untangle the red tape surrounding public art. When they grappled with size, everything about Croney Moses's practice changed. Usually, a simple sketch is all she needs to start building a sculpture. 'Half the design work happens as I'm making it,' she said. That wouldn't wash for ginormous. She started with her familiar, pod-shaped vessel form. 'But when you translate that to a large-scale solid wood construction,' she said, 'that feels really overpowering and kind of oppressive.' To boot, she learned that enclosed spaces are verboten in public art — people might sleep in them. Alison Croney Moses in her Allston studio as she prepares for the Boston Triennial. (Lane Turner/Globe Staff) Lane Turner/Globe Staff 'I ended up jumping from this solid construction I normally work with to an open slatted construction,' Croney Moses said. 'I'm hoping that design will still have that feel of protection and safety.' After several iterations digitally and in the woodshop, the final product came together earlier this month at wood fabricator Next, she faces the 'public' part of public art. At this size, she hopes her piece is seen as a clarion invitation. 'It's like a call to the public of 'this is a moment for joy.'' Croney Moses said. 'I know there's all this other work we have to do. But we cannot forget the joy.' Advertisement
