While planning was still underway, Bridges had an unrelated virtual studio visit with artist Esmaa Mohamoud to discuss her exhibition showcased in the museum last year. The conversation ventured into Mohamoud’s plans for her future work.

Her previous focus was using the language of athletics to talk about body, gender and race. This time, she was looking to pivot into making art about Black childhood and nostalgia. 

That’s when Bridges blurted out the idea for the new commissioned series.

"It was just one of those moments where it clicked," Bridges said. "It was serendipitous in that way that we found a kind of alignment in that moment. We were able to solidify that shared vision that we had and then move forward together."

Three years later, Mohamoud’s "COMPLEX DREAMS" became the inaugural exhibit in the museum's new "Signature Commissioned Series," which invites artists from around the world to respond directly to the museum’s architecture. 

(The exhibit’s opening was shrouded in controversy after MSU canceled the public event. That decision concerned another exhibition featuring pro-Palestine sentiments.)

Mohamoud was not available for an interview, museum spokesperson Zoe Kissel said. But the exhibit’s brochure — which features a conversation between Bridges and Mohamoud — provides insight on the themes of childhood and Black liberation explored in "COMPLEX DREAMS."

"I’ve always loved Zaha Hadid’s architecture and design work, so when [Bridges] presented this opportunity, I was thrilled," Mohamoud wrote. "Honestly, I’ve had such a fun time making this, and it’s not often that you get to make site-specific work."

‘COMPLEX DREAMS’

The "COMPLEX DREAMS" exhibit consists of three art pieces in the Julie and Edward Minskoff Gallery. 

One of those is a sculpture of a young Black girl. The entire piece is a deep black color — except for her gold hoop earrings. 

Mohamoud got the earrings in Dearborn, where her family used to go to buy gold, Bridges said. 

"The pop that you get between this deep, rich black material and the gold earrings really just stands out beautifully and is quite striking," Bridges said.

The sculpture’s materials also hold significance. Mohamoud used shea butter due to her nostalgic memories of the scent from her childhood. When trying to decide on another material that could evoke memory, she settled on charred animal bones, which she used to color the piece. 

"It’s beautiful material speaking, but also carries this idea that through the transatlantic slave trade a lot of slaves were identified by their teeth and their bones after death," she wrote. "Trauma exists within our bones and is carried on generation to generation."

The sculpted girl leans forward as she looks at a white fence in front of her — the second piece in the installation. Hogweed, grass, ivy and hydrangeas made of white steel peek through crevices in the fence. 

Mohamoud grew up in London, Ontario in a subsidized housing complex surrounded by fences, she wrote. Taking inspiration from her childhood, she included the same plants that grew around her fences at home into her art. 

Looking closer at the piece allows the viewer to see that the vines of ivy are actually barbed wire. This causes the plants to shift from having an inviting quality to a sinister one, Bridges said.  

"As you get closer it draws you in, but then you also understand that there's something a little bit ominous and disturbing," he said.

The juxtaposition of the white fence and dark sculpture was deliberate for Mohamoud. She painted the fence white to resemble a white picket fence, but she made it a chain link material.

"I chose to use a chain link fence, which not only represents the subsidized housing complex of my youth, but also reflects the prison industrial complex and other spaces that Black people have been boxed in by fences and barbed wire," Mohamoud wrote. 

While the fence represented societal and systemic issues, it also represented her inner conflict. Mohamoud wrote that she wanted to focus on the idea that "when you grow up in a subsidized housing complex and you grow up poor, you assume that will be the trajectory of your life."

"Despite being boxed in my whole life, I was still able to succeed," she wrote "Now those fences don’t exist physically, but they do exist mentally. And I think that it is an experience a lot of Black people have and carry with them throughout life."

The third component of the installation lies beyond the fence, where 5,999 handcrafted steel monarch butterflies hang from the ceiling. One butterfly has escaped, resting on the tip of the museum's exterior as a reminder of fleeting moments and the desire for freedom.

In second grade, Mohamoud was the only Black kid in her class, she wrote. She recalls the perimeter of the school being enclosed by a fence, with a national forest on the other side. During recess she would go off alone and collect caterpillars that would later turn into monarch butterflies. 

"Monarch butterflies are incredible creatures," Bridges said. "They travel up to 3,000 miles every year for their annual migration. They have a very distinct color pattern and they’re also ectothermic, meaning they often cluster together to keep each other warm. So they kind of symbolize liberation and freedom, especially when considering their metamorphosis as well."

Darkness Doesn’t Rise To The Sun, But We Do

The museum features a separate piece from Mohamoud on the first floor. 

It’s an immersive piece that envelopes the visitor in an orange light designed to instill a sense of calmness. 

Scattered on the floor are 500 handmade black steel dandelions, stretching as if to feel every inch of the orange glow. This exhibit aims to invite reflection and introspection to whoever visits. 

Mohamoud created this work in 2020 after the killings of George Floyd and Rayshard Brooks. The artist wrote that she and her Black peers became depressed as the COVID-19 pandemic prevented them from grieving in community. 

In an effort to ease her depression, she turned to comfort movies, starting with "The Wizard of Oz." In one scene, the Wicked Witch casted a spell that put Dorothy to sleep in a poppy field. To Mohamoud, the view of Dorothy asleep in the flower field looked like the most tranquil place to be, serving more as a gift than a wicked spell. The scene inspired her art piece titled "Darkness Doesn’t Rise To The Sun, But We Do."

Mohamoud wanted the piece to provide a space for Black people that doesn’t constantly remind them of the injustices and trauma that can be associated with their identity, she wrote. Her goal was to provide them a meditative, safe space. 

"The beauty of the dandelion is in its strength and resilience, much like Black people," Mohamoud said. "North America views dandelions as weeds, despite them actually being flowers. I felt a parallel to this when thinking of Black people in America. I felt that we were being labeled as weeds to be eradicated."

Bridges added that dandelions are "incredibly resilient" because they can grow in all different kinds of spaces. Despite being treated as weeds and pests, he said, dandelions have historically been used for their medicinal properties. Though people now try to eradicate dandelions, he said, they continue to come back. 

"I think she found a really strong metaphor for the experiences of Black people, while also creating a serene and peaceful environment," he said. 

The community’s response to Mohamoud’s art has been "overwhelmingly positive" with a "sense of gratitude," Bridges said. 

"While so much of (Mohamoud’s) work may derive from her personal experiences, there's so much for each of us to find within these experiences and bring our own selves to interact and engage with the work," Bridges said. "They're very immersive environments. It’s important we make that space for people to connect with themselves and also learn something along the way to see the world a little bit differently."