A STILL, SMALL VOICE
2024
84” x 84” x 60”
Mixed Media

I was recently reminded of the Nina Simone quote, ‘How can you be an artist and not reflect the times?’ That question became the guiding principle for this exhibition. The title ‘A Still Small Voice’ is drawn from 1 Kings 19:11–13, a passage in which God speaks not through spectacle, but through a quiet whisper at a moment of moral uncertainty. It is within that tension, between noise and silence, power and conscience, that this work resides.

This exhibition examines the role of religion in the United States as both a force of division and a site of refuge. The church has historically been a space where systems of exclusion were reinforced, through theology, hierarchy, and social order, while also serving as one of the few places where marginalized communities could gather, organize, and imagine liberation. It is within these walls that the contradictions of faith are most visible: separation and sanctuary existing side by side.

The materials used in this work were salvaged from a 110-year-old church in the deep South. Embedded in its stained-glass windows are the hand-painted names of two ‘valiant Confederate soldiers,’ both of whom served as ministers of the church in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Their presence reflects how narratives of faith and white supremacy have often been intertwined, sanctified, and preserved in sacred spaces. At the same time, these same structures would have functioned, especially for Black congregants in segregated contexts, as places of protection, fellowship, and resistance.

The process of creating this work became an act of reflection and excavation—material, historical, and personal. Over the course of a year, I navigated securing salvage rights, conducting archival research, and studying original church minutes. In doing so, I uncovered an unexpected connection: my own ancestors once attended this church. What began as an inquiry into history became an encounter with lineage, complicating any clear boundary between observer and participant.

What is old is never fully past. The struggles of community and spirituality, the burdens of organized religion, the persistence of white supremacy, and the ongoing pursuit of equality and freedom continue to echo into the present.

Finally, at the center of the piece is a rare church pew—a salesman’s sample—constructed with differing wooden sides to offer options before a final decision is made. This object, designed to facilitate choice, becomes a quiet, personal reflection within the work. It asks us to consider not only what we inherit, but what we uphold. If history presents us with structures shaped by exclusion and resilience alike, then we, too, are faced with a choice.

Wood, glass, tin, steel paint, fabric