"Look, when I go to Europe, I get treated like a real artist, a king!" exclaims James Dupree. He squints at his canvas as if it's a looking glass. "Over there I'm an artist, an American artist. But in the United States, I'm an African American artist. I get treated like an African American artist." Dupree likens the situation to that of Jazz artists in America years ago. In Europe, they were celebrated as Americans while in their home country they were "negroes". It took decades before jazz musicians entered the American mainstream. "Until we get to this level, nothing is going to change," Dupree says. "I don't think it's going to happen in my lifetime. But the visual arts are the last testing ground for African American artists to go to the forefront."

"Nothing's changed for us," claims Charles Searles, another founding member of the group. "I had a guy see a work of mine in a magazine. He loves it, is all excited, calls up my dealer, decides to fly here to my loft to get it. Well, when I open the door, the man's face drops. Like he didn't get it. Like my name doesn't sound black. He didn't leave with the work."

Searles, by most accounts, was and is one of the more prominent African American artists in the country. He now lives in New York's Soho where his loft was used to mount a recent show of Recherché. Though he is no longer a formal member of the collective, Searles nonetheless, remains in close contact with most members of the group. They are friends, most of whom instinctively understand the need for mutual support despite some creative differences.

Dupree recalls that when he decided to leave the collective it was because he, like Searles, was disappointed with Recherché's lack of aesthetic direction. "Recherché had no direction, it didn't work a theme, establish a style. It had no ideology. Recherché could have been political, social. I wanted the group to move," Dupree says, darting back towards his canvas. The painter cites Afrocobra, a black artists' collective formed in the late sixties at Howard University as a model of what Recherché might have become. Afrocobra was boldly ideological. Their style was similar by design, celebrating the African in African-American. They based their work, whether representational or abstract, on African motifs, African colors, African patterns.

But Ms. Clark, like other current members of Recherché is less concerned about the group sharing a common aesthetic than providing a forum from which to be seen and heard. "Most artists like to work by themselves. But you can't afford to be unmindful of politics by the fact of being black. And part of the struggle of African American artists is to be heard." She admits that the yearning to be seen, to be appreciated, to be heard is a struggle common to all artists, regardless of race. But for black artists in Philadelphia, there is another even more vexing frustration.

"Hey I don't get invitations," says member Syd Carpenter, referring to galleries in Philadelphia. "There are still very few galleries that regularly show the work of African American artists." Carpenter, an assistant professor of studio arts at Swarthmore College, has herself enjoyed considerable success. "As black artists, there are common issues," she says, "like wanting to find credible outlets for your work."