'Be anxious for nothing..." ~Philippians 4:6

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

QUARANTINE LIFE: ART MATTERS

“The Green Hymnal” #3
32”x42” acrylic on foam board, 2023
Collection of B.Al and Audrietta Izlar

“The Green Hymnal” #2 
8.5”x11” collage, pen and ink, acrylic and paper on canvas, 2022
Now on display at Wellspring Manor and Spa

30”x40” acrylic on corrugated board, 2019
Collection of Makeba Clay


 “The Green Hymnal” series is an homage to two of my favorite things:

1. Hymns—all of them.
2. The award-winning, 2013 documentary that delved into the artistry, philosophies, and stories of background vocalists, “20 Feet From Stardom

I’ve painted many pictures that included three people. It’s been suggested that they subconsciously represent my two sisters and me. 
Others have noticed that I frequently allude to my love of music, singing with others, and harmony, and assume the people represent three of the voice types in choral singing: soprano, alto, and tenor. Even deeper viewers decide it’s all about the holy trinity. 
(The Adinkra symbol I tend to use most, as jewelry, “gye nyame” means “except for God” and symbolizes his supremacy. There are other symbols woven into the paintings in clothing, and backgrounds, too.)

Each piece is different where details, media, and materials are concerned, but the positioning of the figures is consistent. One is dependent on the hymnal, one is familiar, but looking on, and one—although looking in the direction of the book—is well versed.

The first painting, and subsequent iterations, were partly inspired by a scene from the “20 Feet” documentary (where noted, stellar vocalists, Lisa Fischer, Judith Hill, and Jo Lawry, are singing together in a recording studio), and partly by my memory of the postures of different people as they sang hymns in church. 

When I was a child, very rarely would I hear any music in church that wasn’t a hymn, an anthem, or spiritual. 
At my childhood place of worship, Anacostia’s Bethlehem Baptist Church, there were two hymnals in the wooden pockets affixed to the back of each pew— one red; one green. The green hymnals were the older, worn, and faded ones. The red hymnals were the new ones, embossed with gold lettering. There were, however, songs in the green one that weren’t included in the red, so the decision was made not to discard the old green hymnals no matter how tattered they were.
Often, I’d hear, “Please stand, and turn in your green hymnal to hymn number…” 
The whippersnapper red hymnal didn’t know nothin’ about that one.

I noticed that some people would hold the hymnal, read, and sing. Some would look down, scan the words, commit them to memory, then, look up and sing. 
Some would never take their eyes off of the page. 
When there weren’t enough books, people would share, and hold the hymnal at just the right angle, so that the person next to them could read and sing along. 
There were those, however, who would reach down and pick up a hymnal, when the officiant would announce the hymn of the morning, but quickly put it back into the wooden pocket, or pass it to someone else. They didn’t need the hymnal. They knew the words—all of the verses and the choruses. 

There was nothing stiff, or mechanical about the way the singers sang, who knew the hymns (backward and forward). Their voices weren’t muffled by their lowered heads. By not being glued to the hymnal, they sang freely and with confidence, (but there had been a time when they, too, had to depend on the book). 

The sound of the hymn rising from every corner of the congregation, in three, four, and even five part harmony, accompanied by only organ and piano, was wonderful. There was no prompting, or browbeating by an overzealous worship leader. No cheat sheets projected on screens. No frantic google searching for lyrics. Everyone, whether they fancied themselves singers or not, sang
Over time, practically everyone knew the hymns by heart.

I remember how hymns were beloved, encouraged, memorized, and performed beautifully. Perhaps that’s why I still love them. The melodies were lovely, and the stanzas were rich, poetic, and substantive. 
Hymns were unintentional lessons in English composition, spelling, and grammar, history, and sight reading, too.

It’s sad that hymns have been sidelined in many places. Often, the reason is a desire to appeal to youth. 
I contend that anyone who dismisses hymns as irrelevant, boring, old-fashioned, or dull, has never read the lyrics, heard one sung or played well, nor have they experienced the power of corporate, congregational singing. 

I’m honored that two of my paintings have new homes. Will there be a Green Hymnal #4? Probably. There’s a blank canvas waiting, but in the meantime, I finished a digital version.

 It, too, is available in canvas print, and on various products at cafepress.


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