Stephen Towns Catalog-V2

Stephen Towns
A Path Between Two Continents

January 22 – February 23

Front Cover: Black Magic – The Righteous and the Wise, and their Works are in the Hand of God
2016 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf on Canvas

Stephen Towns
A Path Between Two Continents

January 22 – February 23

A Path Between Two Continents is a collection of Stephen Towns’ work unearthing
stories from America’s history in order to provide the artist a means to reconcile
its past. Adopting religious iconography and motifs, the artist uses painting,
quilting, and mixed media works to illuminate various narratives from the Middle
Passage to American’s history of slavery. Rather than create a monument of pain,
the artist chooses to create a monument of resilience.

An Offering – #1 | 2017 | 16” x 49” | Acrylic and oil paint, graphite, Bristol board, metal leaf,
natural and synthetic fabric, nylon tulle, polyester and cotton thread, and crystal glass beads on wood panel.

Introduction

The artistry of Stephen Towns is a commitment to create regal, iconic portraits
that identify and celebrate the presence African Americans missing from the
narratives of American history. He creates images of working class, poor people
of humble means, who were denied, forgotten, dismissed, abused, obliterated
and erased from historical memory. Each portrayal is elevated to the status of
sainthood in compelling portrayals inspired, in part, by Towns’ admiration of
European religious altar paintings. The artist blesses each subject with an ornate
halo of metal gold leaf, popularly used during the Byzantine and Middle Ages
eras as seen in masterful works of Giotto and Duccio. A Path Between Two
Continents is an exhibition of compelling and penetrating compositions that are
as much historical, as they are autobiographical and analytical. Towns explores
his own sense of self, the beauty of African American physiology and the
powerful strengths he sees as distinctive cultural identifiers unique and specific
to African American culture. The violence and horrors of the African Slave
Trade and Middle Passage, between the continents of Europe and the Americas,
serve as a conscious reminder of the relentless racism and oppressions that still
continue to plague America and the world today.

Towns was born in Lincolnville, South Carolina, a small town south of the
City of Charleston, located in what has been identified as the Gullah Geechee
Heritage Corridor. He grew up in one of the most extraordinary communities
of descendants of bonded Africans. A wide range of different African cultures
banded together to create their own language, infused with European and
Native American words, yet distinctly African in its cultural formation. Gullah
Geechee communal history informed Towns’ research using the resources of the
National Archives and files of the Works Progress Administration. He re/visions
each subject so that he can “examine the nuances and expressions”, positioning
them in isolated, meditative spaces. These studies bring the viewer into eye
to eye contact with what become monumental emblems of human strength,
dignity and power as seen in the The Bridge and Joy Cometh in the Morning series.

In The Bridge: Stories from the Works Progress Administration, The Gift of Lineage
and An Offering series each person is ‘dressed’, painted and stitched with fabric
like an appliqué quilt. This fiber technique is inspired by the vibrant pieced,
striped quilts tradition created by African American female and male artisans.
This practice is one of the many residual re/creations of traditional African
cloth making. Cloth plays a critical role in the philosophical life of African and
African Diasporic people. Nigerian scholar Rowland Abiodun (2004) observes
that “among all items of dress, cloth is the only one with the attribute of
immortality“, further stating how “The socio-religious and aesthetic significance
of cloth in Yoruba culture far outweighs its perishability as a material object.”
Towns uses textiles to elevate his subjects to a deified state of sainthood
thereby ensuring, not just the remembrance of each of his subjects but assuring
them each their own immortality. His use of cloth punctuates the politics of
remembrance and mindfulness in the resurrection of lost heroes in the battle for
freedom, recognition and a sense of agency in American history.

Stephen Towns has mandated for himself a Herculean challenge to create a
legacies of remembrance for Americans of African descent. The socio-political
and spiritual intent of his artistry is grounded in his use of a symbolic butterfly,
as seen throughout all of his paintings, are a lyrical visual trope signifying
attributes of change, hope, resurrection, freedom, endurance, liberation, life. . .
and an immortality within the legacy of American history.

Leslie King Hammond, PhD
Senior Fellow
Robert W. Deutsch Foundation
January 2019

The Gift of Lineage – #1 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and synthetic fabric,
polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

The Bridge – Portrait of Betty Simmons
2018 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, oil, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel

Conversation with Stephen Towns

This conversation between artist Stephen Towns and York College
Gallery Director Matthew Clay-Robison took place January 2019.

MCR: This exhibition deals a lot with history. Can we begin by talking
about your own personal history? Where were you born and what attracted
you to Baltimore?

ST: I was born and raised in the town of Lincolnville, South Carolina. It’s a
small town outside of Charleston founded by Black Americans in 1867 shortly
after the Emancipation Proclamation. Growing up, it was mostly black so
most of my interactions outside of school and the Kingdom Hall (I grew up
a Jehovah’s Witness.) were with other black people. Often, my interactions with
“whiteness” came from media or persons of authority. That upbringing can
create physical and mental barriers to “success” and access to new and different
things. It was something I didn’t really think about or question until adulthood.

I started making art at a young age. Like many kids with artistic talent, it was
something most of my teachers encouraged throughout schooling. I guess
I’d always felt that art was the best way for me to communicate. I was always
fascinated with drawing people and the figure. However, it wasn’t until I studied
art at the University of South Carolina that I realized how to use art to explore
my own identity. The themes of race and religion kept reoccurring in my work.
I began questioning everything I had learned. I studied the work of artists in the
area who had made a name for themselves – artists such as Tom Feelings, Tyrone
Geter, Tonya Gregg, Rodgers Boykin and Jonathan Green. Through learning
about these artists, I was able to learn about the plethora of Black artists from
the past such as Elizabeth Catlett, Charles White, and John Biggers. My world
had opened up.

My college years in Columbia, SC in the late 90s/early 2000s were a very
important time period in my life. It was an exciting and creative time. It felt
like Black America was experiencing a new artistic Renaissance. Not only was
I learning about the work of these visual artists but it was the rise of spoken
word and Def Poetry Jam. It was the height of the Neo soul movement and
music artists like Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, India.Arie and Jill Scott. I was
fully immersed in this – filling my circle of friends with artists and poets.

Life happened though and I spent much of my time after graduation working
job to job and creating my art on the side. I’d been laid off my job at a hospital
in 2008 during the economic crisis and came to DC/Baltimore area optimistic
and eager to find opportunities and work. It was a challenge and struggle. After
doing many odd jobs here and there and volunteering with various organizations,
I landed a job in the Community Engagement office at Maryland Institute of
Art. I spent nearly 8 years there. That was such an important time for me. I
learned so much about Baltimore and was able to work with so many great artists
and organizations. It also reinvigorated my own art and inspired my passion for
history. I questioned the economic disparities of Baltimore. I wanted to know
where they were born. This drew me further into history and American slavery.

Joy Cometh in the Morning – By Thy Favour Thou Has Made My Mountain to Stand Strong
2016 | 24” x 18” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf, Bristol Board, Canvas, and Paper on Panel

The Gift of Lineage - #2 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and
synthetic fabric, polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

MCR: You mentioned Tom Feelings as an early influence in your work. Did the
work he made following his time spent in Ghana at all inspire your own travel
to Ghana and Senegal? How did it feel to be in West Africa? You collected
fabric in Ghana for your Gift of Lineage Series. Could you feel a thread between
Ghana and the Gullah/Geechee cultural heritage of coastal South Carolina that
Dr. King Hammond discusses in the catalog introduction?

ST: Tom Feelings’ picture book The Middle Passage: White Ships / Black Cargo
is probably the most influential body of work that inspired and continues to
inspire my work. It was one of the first times I felt the feelings and emotions
that an artist put into his work. I was amazed at what could happen with
carefully crafted and skilled black and white drawings. I could feel the weight
of history and its influence on my life. Essentially, I wanted to emulate what
I felt when I flip through that book into my own work. I also studied his
illustrations for children’s book and learned about the influence West Africa
had played in his work.

At that time, I wouldn’t say that traveling to Africa was a desire for me. It just
didn’t seem real or attainable. I was a still in the mindset a poor college student
from South Carolina – my dreams couldn’t reach that far. Traveling abroad
wouldn’t happen until 11 years later when I was awarded a travel grant from
the Municipal Art Society of Baltimore City. That is when it all became real. . .
that I was going to Ghana.

Being in Ghana was surreal. I experienced feelings of joy and sadness. There was
a joy in seeing people that look like me, my family members and friends – the
people I grew up with in South Carolina. There is a beauty and spirit in the land,
people, and culture of Ghana. Yet, I also felt a lingering sadness. There was this
sense of “knowing” that exists in the people there – knowing where your people
are from, your language, your customs. There were language and cultural
barriers that were hard for me to swallow. I definitely learned I was American.
In her book Lose Your Mother, Saidiya Hartman mentions the feeling of being
orphaned Black Americans can feel when they visit Africa for the first time.
I definitely felt that at times being there. Yet, it is an experience that would
never trade for the world. It was life changing.

MCR: I am interested in the references to Christianity in your work, particularly
the duality of how faith can be used as a tool of oppression or liberation. What
inspired your series Black Magic and what role do you think Christianity occupies
in the ongoing struggle for equality, both in terms of forces working for and
against equality? Do you maintain a personal relationship with the church?

ST: I grew up a Jehovah’s Witness. Though I am not one anymore, I know
what it’s like to grow up with a strong sense of faith. I know the power and
weakness in it. At times when life dealt too many hard blows, sometimes I
would rely on God for everything – in some of these moments, it may have
been better for me to build a bit more self-reliance. Yet, one can use religious
figures as models for strength and the ability to overcome odds. These ideas
fueled the Black Magic series.

In much of the literature that I read about American slavery, I could see a
consistent theme of how religion was being used. It allowed the captor to see
themselves as doing God’s will and having God’s favor. For the enslaved, they
were to accept and obey that same belief systems. For them, the only way to
escape hardships was through death.

I also saw the roles reversed. There were historical figures like Nat Turner who
were able read the Bible and view themselves as the victor to overcome struggles.
In learning about his 1831 insurrection, I could see direct relations between the
Exodus story in the Old Testament and what Turner was trying to achieve in
Southampton, VA.

One can also see what an important role the church played during the Civil
Rights Movement. At the same time, religion was being used by hate groups
such as the Klan.

I feel like now in 2019 we are in an in-between place. With a growth in
knowledge and an ever increasing access to it, we are trying to discover who
we are and how we can be.

Black Magic – The Righteous and the Wise, and their Works are in the Hand of God
2016 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf on Canvas

An Offering – #2 | 2018 | 16” x 49” | Acrylic and oil paint, graphite, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and synthetic fabric,
nylon tulle, polyester and cotton thread, and crystal glass beads on wood panel.

MCR: Earlier you mentioned that it wasn’t until adulthood that you began to
question how your limited interactions with “whiteness” growing up created
barriers to gaining experiences and opportunities. How has living in Baltimore
affected this line of questioning and have the barriers influenced the work you
make and how you exhibit and promote it?

ST: I’ve always felt that Baltimore is a microcosm of what goes in America felt
in extreme forms – in its neighborhoods and networks. In many ways, there
have been experiences that have reinforced to those mental barriers that I
grew up – especially in “professional” settings. However, I’ve met many people
that question them and break them. Reading about history has been helpful in
making me aware that change is a very long process. It comes in ebbs and flows.

I continue to make work because something inside of me has to. I experience
a hardship in life. I see a story on the news. I need to understand why things
are the way they are. Creating the art I make is not easy – neither making it,
exhibiting it, or promoting it. There were many moments I wanted to give up
and I question why I am doing what I was doing. What many people see is the
end result of many years of struggle. I don’t want to make myself a martyr.
I’m not. I’m doing what everyone I know does – day in and day out. It’s just that
as time has gone on, I have a bigger platform because of the support that I have
around me.

MCR: I’d like to talk about the work you are currently making, but as a segue
to that I’d first like to circle back to the discussion of Nat Turner and the
inspiration for your Black Magic and Joy Cometh in the Morning series. Your new
series is called The Bridge and is based on photographs taken in the early 1900s
of formerly enslaved people. These images are about 100 years old which seems
like a long time, but when you look at time in 50 year periods it doesn’t seem that
long ago. 50 years ago there were race revolts in York and around the country,
leaving wounds that still haven’t healed. And the subjects of these photographs
would have been freed only 50 years after Nat Turner’s rebellion. When you start
looking at time this way, “history” can be seen more clearly as a continuum. I was
particularly struck by this when I read the Yaa Gyasi’s novel Homegoing. All of this
is to ask the question; what lessons can we apply to our contemporary world when
considering the fear-based violence perpetrated against the saintly figures of your
Joy Cometh in the Morning series?

ST: The more I learn, the more I do realize that it wasn’t that long ago. Like you
mentioned, the idea of life being a continuum has become evermore present in my
way of thinking. I think about the fact that the Civil Rights Act was passed in
1964. My mother and father were born before then. That would make me and my
sibling the first generation born into America that were truly “free”. I’m in my late
30’s and it’s mind boggling for me to think about that. It’s not like the generations
that grew up before 1964 can flip a switch and automatically forget what they
experienced or erase the belief systems that they had.

Joy Cometh in the Morning is a series of works paying homage to the enslaved blacks
whose lives were lost as a result of Nat Turner’s rebellion. During the insurrection
50-60 whites were killed, in retaliation over 200 blacks were killed. Those numbers
were hard for me to take.

I think for contemporary Americans we need to understand that we have a
history of violence. I think it’s important not to shy away from it. If you do,
it’s easier to absolve yourself from it and allow it to happen around you. If you
face it and realize you are a product of it, then you begin to question it. You place
yourself in historical context. Hopefully, you build a need to be on the right and
just side of history.

The Bridge – Portrait of Francis Black
2018 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, oil, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel

Anatomy of Abundance
2018 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, metal leaf, glitter, on panel

MCR: That is such an important thing for us to be thinking about considering
the relationship between polarization and violence. There is so much anger
in this country right now and our citizens are absurdly well-armed. Just type
“another civil war” into a search engine and you’ll find dozens of articles from
fringe to mainstream publications treating it as an imminent concern. I think
this ivs partly because too many of us lack a quality embodied in your work;
resilience. As partisans we are losing the ability to withstand political setbacks
and are increasingly embracing violent rhetoric. Can you talk about the theme
of resilience in your work?

ST: Resilience is a recurring theme in my work. It’s something I mention
a lot in my artist talks now. Earlier, I talked about the Black Renaissance I
experienced in college years. I remember much of the literature I read at the
time talking about the origin of African Americans originating from kings and
queens of various African nations. I think this maybe true for some but most
likely not all. Likely, most people came from workers and I don’t think there
should be shame in that. The fact that Black people have survived capture in
Africa, the treacherous journey of the Middle Passage, the horrors of American
slavery, the Civil War, Jim Crow, and the Civil Rights Movement is a miracle in
of itself.

MCR: It truly is a miracle. When I speak of a lack of resilience leading
to violence in this country I am definitely not talking about those who’ve
persevered through the centuries of trauma you listed. I find it interesting that
when the legacy of racial violence in this country is examined, the fear is never
how Black people will respond to buried stories coming to light. It is always
the fear of power protecting itself. Last year when this college handled Paul
Rucker’s Rewind exhibition with extreme caution it wasn’t that we feared how
Black people in our community would respond to the powerful information and
imagery in the exhibition. We were worried about attracting the attention of
the “alt-right” white supremacists that had brought violence to the University of
Virginia in Charlottesville. I find that awfully telling. Interestingly, at the very
same time of the Rewind controversy here, your exhibition at Goucher College
also received some media attention. Can you tell me a little about that?

ST: I think when you discuss issues like race, religion, or politics you are always
going to run into people that don’t agree – sometimes in the extreme. It’s their
right not to. Colleges and universities, as places of learning, should anticipate it.
Face it. Move through the murky uncomfortableness and get to the other side.
Even in “safe spaces” one has to be brave. I’ve been in many “safe spaces” only
to deal with the repercussions of what I’ve said or thought afterward.

My experience at Goucher was on the other spectrum of what you experienced
at YCP. I had Black staff members that were uncomfortable with my Joy Cometh
in the Morning series being displayed in a public gallery space at their institution.
The work was interpreted differently than I had intended it to be. Rather than
replace the work with different pieces, I chose to remove the work and place
tape in the space where the work had existed. And included a statement:

Black Magic - God’s Ways are Mysterious
2016 | 24”x30” | Acrylic Oil Metal Leaf on Canvas

Joy Cometh in the Morning - I Shall Never Be Moved
2016 | 24” x 18” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf, Bristol Board, Canvas, and Paper on Panel

“It’s come to my attention that the work from my “Joy Cometh In the Morning” series
has offended staff at Goucher College. . . The work was influenced by research about Nat
Turner’s insurrection. I tend to veer away from telling people how to interpret in my work.
However, the original intent of the work was to honor the countless black men and women
that fought against slavery, with the knowledge that their very fight may end their lives.

In the work, the subjects grasp the noose. If you squint, the noose disappears and you
see their raised fists. Though I am saddened to see the work go, I value Goucher’s Black
employees’ concern. The intent of my work is to examine the breadth and complexity of
American history both good and bad, it is not to fetishize Black pain nor to diminish it.”

It was very important for me not to place blame with the staff members.
I’ve work in institutions. I understood where they were coming from. This
experience lead to thoughtful discussions and forums with Goucher faculty,
staff, students, and visitors. Each were able to share their own experiences if
they chose to do so. Although the art was removed, it fulfilled its purpose.

MCR: The Goucher exhibition was followed by an exhibition, Rumination and a
Reckoning, at the Baltimore Museum of Art. Your career is really taking off. I keep
thinking back to your description of being in a poor college student mindset and
never dreaming that you’d travel to Africa. Well, in the last year you’ve shared a
stage with Mark Bradford and Amy Sherald, two of this country’s most exciting
contemporary artists. What was that like?

ST: The whole experience has been surreal. It’s been a pleasure to meet and work
with such amazing artists. The BMA exhibition has been pivotal in my career as
an artist. It’s been such a pleasure and humbling having conversations and reading
emails from people who were touched by my work or learned new things they
hadn’t before. It’s also exciting being able to bring my work to new audiences.

The Gift of Lineage - #3 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and
synthetic fabric, polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

An Offering - #3 | 2017 | 16” x 49” | Acrylic and oil paint, graphite, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and
synthetic fabric, nylon tulle, polyester and cotton thread, and crystal glass beads on wood panel.

MCR: With the exception of a brief mention of gathering fabric in Ghana,
I haven’t asked you much about your artistic process and the materials you use.
I’m assuming you studied painting at the University of South Carolina, but did
you also learn to quilt there?

ST: My mother was a sewer, quilter, and basket weaver. She was a creative person.
She made a lot of my clothes when I was young. I learned to hand sew at a young
age and would make dolls and clothes using her fabric scraps. In college, I studied
painting, drawing, and gilding.

I didn’t start quilting until 2014. I had an idea for a flag piece called Birth of a
Nation. Painting and drawing it just wasn’t working and I thought quilting may
be the most effective medium. I read books and watched tutorials on Youtube
and found a new love in working in this new medium. Now, I try incorporate
fiber into most of my work. I like the idea of craft and using multiple textures
and materials in my work.

MCR: Thank you so much for your time and for sharing your gorgeous work.
I’d like to end this conversation with one final question. Your work moves from
the Middle Passage to Nat Turner’s Rebellion all the way to the early 1900s.
Where do you see the work moving next? Do you think you’ll continue traveling
through time and eventually reach the present?

ST: I plan on doing a residency at Gettysburg this summer in hopes of
uncovering new stories to tell from the Civil War. I’ll create new painting and
quilts from what I learn. Now, it seems like we’re in a pivotal point in time where
we are able to correct and understand history differently. I kinda consider myself
a time traveler. I tend to go back and forth between the past and present when I
see parallels. I can’t see myself veering from that.

The Bridge - Portrait of Betty Bormer
2017 | 24” x 20” | Acrylic, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel.

The Bridge - Portrait of Mary Ann Patterson
2018 | 24” x 20” | Acrylic, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel.

The Bridge - Portrait of Millie Ann Smith
2018 | 24” x 20” | Acrylic, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel.

The Bridge - Portrait of Ellen Payne
2018 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, oil, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel

The Bridge - Portrait of Josephine Hill
2018 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, oil, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel

The Bridge - Portrait of Lucy Thomas
2018 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, oil, fabric, buttons, metal leaf, Bristol paper, on panel

The Gift of Lineage – #4 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and synthetic fabric,
polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

The Gift of Lineage - #5 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and synthetic fabric,
polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

The Gift of Lineage - #6 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and
synthetic fabric, polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

The Gift of Lineage - #7 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and
synthetic fabric, polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

The Gift of Lineage - #8 | 2018 | 24” x 36” | Acrylic, Bristol board, metal leaf, natural and
synthetic fabric, polyester and cotton thread on wood panel.

Black Magic - All is Vanity
2016 | 36” x 36” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf on Canvas

Black Magic - No Remembrance of Things to Come
2016 | 33” x 28” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf on Canvas

Black Magic - Whoso Keepeth the Commandment Shall Feel No Evil Thing
2016 | 40” x 30” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf on Canvas

Joy Cometh in the Morning - What Profit is There in my Blood?
2016 | 24” x 18” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf, Bristol Board, Canvas, and Paper on Panel

Joy Cometh in the Morning - Shall the Dust Praise Thee?
2016 | 24” x 18” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf, Bristol Board, Canvas, and Paper on Panel

Joy Cometh in the Morning - Shall It Declare Thy Truth?
2016 | 24” x 18” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf, Bristol Board, Canvas, and Paper on Panel

Joy Cometh in the Morning - Thou Hast Turned for Me my Mourning into Dancing
2016 | 24” x 18” | Acrylic, Oil, Metal Leaf, Bristol Board, Canvas, and Paper on Panel

An Offering - #4 | 2017 | 16” x 49” | Acrylic and oil paint, graphite, Bristol board, metal leaf,
natural and synthetic fabric, nylon tulle, polyester and cotton thread, and crystal glass beads on wood panel.

An Offering - #5 | 2017 | 16” x 49” | Acrylic and oil paint, graphite, Bristol board, metal leaf,
natural and synthetic fabric, nylon tulle, polyester and cotton thread, and crystal glass beads on wood panel.