Kara Walker's Boo-Hoo (2000) is a seminal signed limited edition linocut that exemplifies the artist's role as one of the most incisive political artists working today. Rendered in stark black against a pale ground, the composition presents a monumental silhouetted female figure whose exaggerated tears transform into whip-like forms, collapsing the boundary between emotional expression and physical violence.

The specific imagery rewards close attention. The figure holds a whip — the defining instrument of slavery — but it is in her hand, not her master's, immediately destabilising any simple reading of victim and oppressor. The snake coiling around her arm invokes the Biblical Eve, and together the two objects deliberately echo one of the most damaging stereotypes imposed on enslaved Black women: the Jezebel, the seductress who "invited" her own abuse — the lie used for centuries to justify the systematic rape of enslaved women, transferring guilt onto the victim. Walker seizes that myth, renders it monumental, and forces the viewer to confront its ugliness. Meanwhile, the radiating lines behind her head give her the aura of a saint or a madonna, and the title Boo-Hoo — slang for dismissing someone's tears — names the very act of trivialising Black grief that the work refuses to allow.

Drawing on the visual language of 19th-century silhouette portraiture, Walker's choice of medium does further political work. The silhouette portrait was a parlour tradition, a genteel craft used by respectable white families to memorialise themselves. By seizing that form and filling it with the histories those families preferred not to see, Walker turns white culture's own visual language into a mirror — one that reflects back not refinement, but complicity. In Boo-Hoo, sentimentality becomes destabilising rather than consoling: grief turns confrontational, vulnerability merges with aggression, and the figure oscillates between victim and perpetrator. This ambiguity is central to Walker's practice, forcing viewers to confront uncomfortable histories rather than passively consume them.

Commissioned and published by Parkett in 2000 and printed by Maurice Sanchez at Derrière L'Etoile Studio, New York, this linocut underscores Walker's sustained engagement with printmaking as a direct and democratic medium for political critique. The physicality and scale of the fine art print intensify its impact, reinforcing the immediacy and urgency of its subject matter. Issued in a signed and numbered edition of 70 plus artist's proofs and documented in Parkett no. 59 — which framed the work around the question "Will There Be Any Black People in Utopia?" — Boo-Hoo stands as a defining example of Kara Walker's politically charged practice, in which history, race, and power are confronted through uncompromising visual form. The work entered MoMA's permanent collection in the year of its publication and is also held by the Whitney Museum of American Art.