Exploring the theme of “Going Home,” the installation is inspired by the Underground Railroad, the clandestine network of routes and safe houses thousands of enslaved people used to travel toward freedom in the decades before the Civil War. Reimagining the former library of Andrew Carnegie—whose Gilded Age mansion now houses the Cooper Hewitt—it is the only fully interactive exhibit among the Triennial’s 25 site-specific displays, designed by the Los Angeles–based firm Johnston Marklee. Crossing the threshold, visitors are ushered into a story-filled sanctuary of books, paintings, sculpture, and furniture by makers of African descent—works that honor and celebrate the liberating power of literacy and art.

Referencing African-American quilt codes, Penny Francis’s printed panels tie the room together meaningfully. Hung on frames slotted into the library’s windows, they allow just the right amount of natural light to filter through while respecting the landmark status of the building. She and her fellow BADG curators approached the project with sensitivity, nurturing what Francis describes as a “symbiotic relationship” between the interior architecture and the contemporary creations housed there.

Throughout the library, BADG colleagues and collaborators invoke a sense of ancestral connection via their own interpretations of heritage and home. Leyden Lewis contributes bold centerpiece seating in the form of Jab Jab, a nod to the satirical Grenadian carnival tradition representing resistance against slavery. Modern African chairs by Jomo Tariku and Norman Teague offer further opportunities for repose, while Johanna Howard’s Josephine throw and Oscar pillows heighten the sense of domestic intimacy.

The library also gives ample voice to visual artists working in a range of media, from the mesmerizing Infinity Diptych by the late Lisa Hunt to Ebitenyefa Baralaye’s enigmatic twin sculptures Ibeji Ori. Jason Wallace’s symbolic composition Purpose “invites viewers to reflect on their relationship to spaces of power and knowledge,” while Billy Gerard Frank’s Indigo: Entanglements No. 11 features an image of the abolitionist Sojourner Truth, who famously spoke the words, “I can’t read, but I can hear.”

Literacy as a tool for liberation is a central message of the Underground Library, its significance amplified by the historical reality that reading was denied to those held captive under slavery. Today, as books by Black authors are disappearing from U.S. public schools, the project presents an alternative path to empowerment—one that encourages visitors to build their own home libraries and draw strength from the stories of those who went before them. As Barnett observes, “We are all custodians of the archive.”

It is a testament to the Guild’s commitment to its mission that the curatorial team worked tirelessly alongside their own thriving creative practices to bring the project to life. “This show has the potential to impact hundreds of thousands of people,” says Barnett. The conception of immersive environments is what she describes as BADG’s “sweet spot”—prior initiatives include the Obsidian Virtual Concept House, showcasing “an enlightened way of being and dwelling” for Black families.

Highlighting universal themes of identity, resilience, and expression, Belgian-Congolese designer Kim Mupangilaï—whose striking Mwasi armoire occupies the northeast window of the library—observes how the extended residency of the Triennial offers a remarkable opportunity for the conversation around these works “to evolve and deepen over time.”