New albums: “Confessions” by the Anachronists, “Though It Be a Cross” by Weston Skaggs, and more

Here’s my new Spotify playlist for July:

Every month I curate a mix of old and new Christian (or Christian-resonant) song releases. For this coming month, some of the new songs come from the following five albums that were released this spring or early summer, which I’ve really been enjoying. I list them here chronologically and encourage you to listen to them each in full!

New albums 2025

1. Jesus by Jon Guerra, released April 4, 2025: An album of original songs in conversation with the words of Christ. Guerra says that a few years ago, to reacquaint himself with Jesus, he began reading cyclically through the Gospels, and as he did, “little song fragments started coming. I was trying to really hear the words, to feel the stories again, and so I’d write little tunes around certain phrases—‘do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth,’ ‘if anyone would come after me,’ ‘give to everyone who asks of you,’ ‘take this cup from me,’” etc. He then developed those into the twelve fully fledged songs that made it onto the album.

Favorite tracks: “Reckoner (An Axe Laid to the Root),” “Where Your Treasure Is” (above), “Love Your Enemies”

2. Sermon on the Mount: Bible Memory Collection by The Soil and The Seed Project, released May 16, 2025: The Soil and The Seed Project is a ministry that provides intergenerational resources for people as they follow Jesus, read scripture, and talk about their faith together. One of those resources is new music, written and recorded by an expanding collective of folks. All twenty-five songs on this new double album of theirs are based on the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5–7, which contains the Beatitudes, the Lord’s Prayer, warnings against hypocrisy, the call to be salt and light, the command to love one’s enemies, the parable of the wise and foolish builders, assurances of God’s care, and the promise that those who seek will find. For the first disc, the Project set 48 of the 111 sermon verses to music, and for the second, they invited a handful of singer-songwriters to write songs in response to what they encountered as they dwelt in the text.

The album is accompanied by a “Little Liturgies” booklet of litanies, reflection prompts, and line drawings covering eleven weeks. Both the music and the booklet (digital or physical, while supplies last) are FREE from their website!

Favorite tracks: “Come and Eat” (above), “Mountains of Treasure,” “God of Mercy, God of Peace,” “Take What You’ve Given”

3. Though It Be a Cross by Weston Skaggs, released June 20, 2025: An EP of six hymns, freshly arranged and performed by Weston Skaggs of Ohio. The album title comes from a line from “Nearer, My God, to Thee” (video below). “Sarah Fuller Flower Adams wrote the lyrics from the perspective of Jacob and his received revelation of God’s nearness. A nearness that only occurred when he felt most hopeless and alone,” Skaggs explains. “In meditating on that narrative, she determined to be like Saint Peter: who became the most like Christ his master when he was raised on his own cross.” This song and others feature backing vocals by Katy Martin.

The most stylistically daring is “For the Beauty of the Earth,” whose verses Skaggs transposed to a minor key—to allude to the beauty and brokenness of creation and relationships, Skaggs said, “invit[ing] listeners to hold both gratitude and longing in the same breath.”

Favorite tracks: “No, Not One,” “Nearer, My God, to Thee” (above)

4. Confessions by the Anachronists, released June 26, 2025: The Anachronists are Andrés Pérez González, Corey Janz, and Jonathan Lipps, three musician friends who met while studying theology at Regent College in Vancouver and who have formed a group to give renewed voice, through modern indie music, to theologians and mystics from ages past. Confessions is their debut EP, with six songs rooted in Augustine’s spiritual autobiography from the late fourth century. The songs address grief over the death of a dear friend, and God’s merciful pursuit of those who wander; a preconversion sense of dissatisfaction but as yet unwillingness to make any changes; God as the One who is fully at rest in his own self, and how we might share in that rest; struggles with distraction and pride in the spiritual life; and the promise of renewal both personal and universal.

The still life colored-pencil drawing commissioned for the album cover is by the Finnish artist Minni Havas; it portrays Easter lilies growing out of a compost heap. It was especially inspired by the concluding song, “All of Our Decayed Parts,” which is itself based on an excerpt from Book IV.16 of the Confessions:

Do not be vain, my soul. Do not deafen your heart’s ear with the tumult of your vanity. Even you have to listen. The Word himself cries to you to return. There is the place of undisturbed quietness where love is not deserted if it does not itself depart. See how these things pass away to give place to others, and how the universe in this lower order is constituted out of all its parts. “Surely I shall never go anywhere else,” says the word of God. Fix your dwelling there. Put in trust there whatever you have from him, my soul, at least now that you are wearied of deceptions. Entrust to the truth whatever has come to you from the truth. You will lose nothing. The decayed parts of you will receive a new flowering, and all your sicknesses will be healed. All that is ebbing away from you will be given fresh form and renewed. (trans. Henry Chadwick)

This album comprises just six of the thirty-some Confessions-based songs the trio has written; they are testing the waters with it to see if there is more interest and funding to record more, and then to apply this approach to other ancient and medieval theological and spiritual writings by such luminaries as Athanasius and Julian of Norwich. Some laypeople feel daunted to read centuries-old works, or assume that they’re mostly irrelevant. But the Anachronists seek to mine the riches of historical Christian thought and provide an easy access point through music, hopefully encouraging folks to seek out the sources. I’m excited to see what they do next! Follow them on Instagram @anachronists.music.

Favorite tracks: “God of the Runaways,” “All of Our Decayed Parts” (above)

5. All Shall Be Well by the Good Shepherd Collective, released June 27, 2025: This album consists mainly of gospel and hymn covers. The artists in this collective, whom I’ve mentioned many times before, are top-notch, and I’m always excited to see what they put out.

Favorite tracks: “Lift Every Voice” (James Weldon Johnson and J. Rosamond Johnson), “Ancient of Days” (Ron Kenoly) (this appears to be a re-release from the collective’s Gospel Songs, vol. 1; above), “My Jesus Is All” (the Staples Singers), “I Saw the Light” (Hank Williams)

“Dialogue at Midnight: Elizabeth to John” by Sister Maura Eichner, SSND (poem)

Degas, Edgar_Pregnant Woman
Edgar Degas (French, 1834–1917), Pregnant Woman, modeled ca. 1896–1910, cast 1920. Bronze, 16 3/4 × 5 3/4 × 5 5/8 in. (42.5 × 14.6 × 14.3 cm). Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

My son, from the chalk
hills of this old flesh
how you have sailed
beyond the waters of
your father’s doubt.

I feel the small skiff
of your body. Yesterday
you leaped (rapids or
waterfall) when young
Mary walked into my arms.

What we women know.
And how much we keep
within the heart, secret
as the honeycomb that is
your skull growing in me.

My son John, trust this
first solitude. Here in the
ancient cave of my body,
sail inland water
safe from followers,

kings and dancing girls.

This poem appears in After Silence: Selected Poems of Sister Maura Eichner, SSND (Notre Dame of Maryland University, 2011), copyright © the Atlantic-Midwest Province of the School Sisters of Notre Dame. 


In anticipation of the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist on June 24, I offer this tender poem by Sister Maura Eichner in which the elderly Elizabeth speaks to her son, John, while he’s still in utero. She senses his life will end early and wishes to keep him safe forever, away from the burdens and perils of a prophetic vocation, away from Herod’s order of imprisonment, away from the lethal spite of Herodias and her daughter-pawn, Salome, whose dancing trophy of choice is John’s head on a platter.

Elizabeth is faithful to God and God’s will—just yesterday, in the company of her also-pregnant cousin Mary, she praised God for the coming Messiah whom even the fetal John recognized, leaping. But as great an honor as it is that her son has been chosen to herald the Messiah, her maternal instinct is to shield and protect him. In the dark of midnight, while her husband, Zechariah, is asleep, she whispers her fears rolled up in a charge, instructing John to savor the shelter of her womb while he still can, as soon he will enter the world’s wilderness and eventually preach himself to a martyr’s death.

For scripture texts that inform Sister Maura’s “Dialogue at Midnight,” see Luke 1 and Matthew 14:1–12.


Sister Maura Eichner, SSND (1915–2009), was a Catholic nun, poet, and professor of literature and creative writing. Born Catherine Alice Eichner in Brooklyn, New York, she took vows with the School Sisters of Notre Dame in 1933 at age eighteen. In 1943 she was assigned to teach in the English Department at the College of Notre Dame of Maryland (now Notre Dame of Maryland University) in Baltimore, where she continued until 1992, serving also as department chair. She published ten books of poetry during her lifetime, including The Word Is Love (1958) and Hope Is a Blind Bard (1989), and maintained correspondence with such writers as Flannery O’Connor, Richard Wilbur, Katherine Anne Porter, and Eudora Welty. She experimented with a diversity of poetic forms and subject matter and disliked religious poetry that is redolent of “thin piety” and “decoratively sweet nosegays,” she told The New York Times in a 1959 interview.

Affirmation of Faith from the Iona Community

Hobbs, Paul_Three In One
Paul Hobbs (British, 1964–), Three in One, 2000. Acrylic on paper, 55 × 177 cm.

We believe in God above us,
Maker and Sustainer of all life,
of sun and moon,
of water and earth,
of male and female.

We believe in God beside us,
Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh,
born of a woman, servant of the poor,
tortured and nailed to a tree.
A man of compassion, he died forsaken;
he descended into the earth
to the place of death.
On the third day he rose from the tomb;
he ascended into heaven
to be everywhere present;
and his kingdom will come on earth.

We believe in God within us,
the Holy Spirit of Pentecostal fire,
life-giving breath of the church,
spirit of healing and forgiveness,
source of resurrection and eternal life.

Amen.

The Iona Community is an international, ecumenical Christian movement working for justice and peace, the rebuilding of community, and the renewal of worship. This Affirmation of Faith, one of several they use in their liturgies, is found in the Sunday Morning Communion Service A in the Iona Abbey Worship Book (Wild Goose Publications, 2017), pp. 27–28.

Roundup: The body as sacred offering; rest as resistance; “Amazing Grace”

I’m late in notifying you about my June 2025 playlist (a random compilation of faith-inspired songs I’ve been enjoying lately), but be sure to check it out on Spotify.

See also my Juneteenth Playlist, which I’ve added six new songs to since originally releasing it two years ago, including a cover of Roberta Slavitt’s protest song “Freedom Is a Constant Struggle,” “Black Gold” by Esperanza Spalding, and “The Block” by Carlos Simon, a short orchestral work based on a six-panel collage by Romare Bearden celebrating Harlem street life.

Romare Bearden, The Block
Romare Bearden (American, 1911–1988), The Block, 1971. Cut-and-pasted printed, colored, and metallic papers, photostats, graphite, ink marker, gouache, watercolor, and ink on Masonite, 4 × 18 ft. (121.9 × 548.6 cm). Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.

+++

PODCAST EPISODE: “The Body as Sacred Offering: Ballet and Embodied Faith” with Silas Farley, For the Life of the World, April 30, 2025: An excellent interview! “Silas Farley, former New York City Ballet dancer and current Dean of the Colburn School’s Trudl Zipper Dance Institute, explores the profound connections between classical ballet, Christian worship, and embodied spirituality. From his early exposure to liturgical dance in a charismatic Lutheran church to his career as a professional dancer and choreographer, Farley illuminates how the physicality of ballet can express deep spiritual truths and serve as an act of worship.”

I was especially compelled by Farley’s discussion of turnout, the rotation of the leg at the hips—foundational to ballet technique. It gives the body an “exalted carriage” and allows for “a more complete revelation of the body,” he says, because you see more of the leg’s musculature that way. This physical positioning, he says, reflects the correlative “spiritual turnout” that’s also happening in dance, and that Christians are called to in life—a posture of openness and giving. He cites the theological concept of incurvatus in se, coined by Augustine and further developed by Martin Luther, which refers to how sin curves one in on oneself instead of turning one outward toward God and others.

Farley also discusses how liturgical dance is like and unlike more performative modes of dance (“liturgical dance . . . is a kind of embodied prayer . . . a movement that goes up to God out of the body”); how discipline and freedom go together; the body as instrument, and how dancers cultivate a hyperawareness of their bodies; the two basic design elements of ballet, the plié and the tendu, and their significance; his formation, from ages fourteen to twenty-six, under the teaching of Rev. Dr. Tim Keller at Redeemer Presbyterian Church; the Four Loves ballet he choreographed on commission for the Houston Ballet, based on a C. S. Lewis book (see promo video below, and his and composer Kyle Werner’s recent in-depth discussion about it for the C. S. Lewis Foundation); Songs from the Spirit, a ballet commissioned from him by the Metropolitan Museum of Art (see next roundup item); Jewels by George Balanchine, a three-act ballet featuring three distinct neoclassical styles; “Hear the Dance” episodes of City Ballet the Podcast, which he hosts; and book recommendations for kids and adults.

+++

SITE-SPECIFIC BALLET: Songs from the Spirit, choreographed by Silas Farley: Commissioned by MetLiveArts [previously], Songs from the Spirit by Silas Farley is a three-part ballet for seven dancers that interprets old and new Christian spirituals, having grown out of an offertory Farley gave at Redeemer Presbyterian Church based on the song “Guide My Feet, Lord.” Staged in the museum’s Assyrian Sculpture Court, the Astor Chinese Garden Court, and the glass-covered Charles Engelhard Court of the American Wing, the ballet progresses from “Lamentation” to “Contemplation” to “Celebration.” Here’s a full recording of the March 8, 2019, premiere:

For the project, Farley solicited new “songs (and spoken word poetry) from the spirit” from men who were currently or formerly incarcerated at San Quentin State Prison in California, whose creative talent he learned about through the Ear Hustle podcast. Recordings of these contributions form about half the score, while the other half consists of traditional spirituals sung live by soprano Kelly Griffin and tenor Robert May. My favorite section is probably “Deep River” at 26:54, a duet danced by Farley and Taylor Stanley, picturing a soul’s “crossing over” to the other side, supported by an angelic or divine presence, or perhaps one who’s gone before.  

In his artistic statement, Farley says he wanted to invite viewers “to accompany us [dancers] on this journey: from darkness to light, bondage to freedom, exile to home.”

I am struck by how a contemporary work that is, in Farley’s words, so “unequivocally Christ-focused and Christ-exalting” was welcomed, even made financially possible, by a prestigious secular institution. I find apt Farley’s response when asked by Macie Bridge from the Yale Center for Faith & Culture about his consideration of his audiences (see previous roundup item):

All the people coming to the performance are hungry in different ways. Some are longing for beauty. Some are longing for a prophetic image of a better world. Some are longing to see something reflected back to them from their own lives. And I’m just trusting that as I offer the artwork as an act hospitality, and as I offer the artwork as an act of adoration and worship back to God, that in his own beautiful, winsome, totally personalized way, he’ll meet each of the audience members in the way they need to be met.

+++

ARTWORK: Dreaming with the Ancestors by Charlie Watts and Tricia Hersey [HT: Visual Commentary on Scripture]: Tricia Hersey is a poet, performance artist, spiritual director, and community organizer living in Atlanta, Georgia. She is the founder of The Nap Ministry, an organization that promotes rest as a form of resistance against capitalism (which fuels contemporary grind culture) and white supremacy, and the author of the New York Times best-selling Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto (2022) and We Will Rest! The Art of Escape (2024). She pursued graduate research in Black liberation theology, womanism, somatics, and cultural trauma, earning a master of divinity degree from Candler School of Theology at Emory University.

Watts, Charlie_Dreaming with the Ancestors
Charlie Watts and Tricia Hersey, Dreaming with the Ancestors, 2017. Archival digital print photograph, 76.2 × 101.6 cm.

The photograph Dreaming with the Ancestors, taken by Charlie Watts, portrays Hersey reclining on a wooden bench inside an open brick enclosure and above rows of cotton plants. Dressed in a soft yellow gown, she closes her eyes in rest, practicing what she calls “the art of escape”—from the incessant demand of productivity and overwork, from oppression of body and spirit, from noise that drowns out voices of wisdom.

In We Will Rest!, Hersey advises:

Every day, morning or night, or whenever you can steal away, find silence. Even if for only a few minutes. Look for quiet time, quiet breathing, quiet wind, quiet air. It is there. Even if it’s cultivated in your body by syncing with your own heart beating. Guilt and shame will be a formidable and likely opponent in your resistance. We expect guilt and shame to surface. Let them come. We rest through it. We commit to our subversive stunts of silence, truth, daydreaming, community care, naps, sleep, play, leisure, boundaries, and space. Be passionate about escape. (107)

+++

ALBUM: Grace Will Lead Me Home by Invisible Folk (2024) [HT: Jonathan Evens]: An Arts Council England grant awarded to singer-songwriter Jon Bickley in 2022 enabled him to conduct a research and songwriting project that culminated in the album Grace Will Lead Me Home, which engages with the hymn “Amazing Grace,” its author’s biography, and its legacy. Bickley partnered with the Cowper and Newton Museum in Olney and enlisted the collaboration of fellow folk musicians Angeline Morrison (The Sorrow Songs: Folk Songs of Black British Experience) and Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne (creator of the “Black Singers and Folk Ballads” resource for secondary educators, and concertina player on Reg Meuross’s Stolen from God). Here’s the title track, written and sung by Morrison:

The album also includes a cover of Zoe Mulford’s “The President Sang Amazing Grace,” written in response to the racially motivated mass shooting at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, on June 17, 2015 (its ten-year anniversary is next Tuesday). In his eulogy at the funeral of one of the nine victims, Rev. Clementa Pinckney, President Barack Obama chose “the power of God’s grace” as his theme, and he closed by singing the first stanza of “Amazing Grace,” a moving gesture that Mulford’s song remembers.

Other songs on Grace Will Lead Me Home address John Newton’s love for his wife Polly, his impressment into naval service, and his friendship with William Cowper. There are also songs that grapple with the harm and suffering Newton inflicted on others through his involvement in the slave trade, and that wonder at his hymn’s being so mightily embraced not only by the Black church, many of whose members are descendants of enslaved Africans, but also by other traumatized communities, who insist amid all the wrongs and afflictions they’ve suffered that God is amazingly gracious.

It’s a myth that John Newton (1725–1807), who converted to Christianity in 1748 after surviving a turbulent sea voyage, immediately gave up his employment as a slave trader upon embracing Christ. In fact, he was soon after promoted from slave ship crew member to captain and sailed three more voyages to Africa as such, trafficking human beings for profit until 1754, when his ill health forced him to retire. But he continued to invest in slaving operations for another decade, until becoming a priest in the Church of England. It wasn’t until 1788, in the pamphlet Thoughts Upon the African Slave Trade, that he publicly denounced slavery and confessed his sin of having participated in that evil institution, and this was the start of his abolitionism.

+++

SONG: “Amazing Grace,” performed by the Good Shepherd Collective: This adaptation of “Amazing Grace” premiered at Good Shepherd New York’s digital worship service on June 1. Listen via the Instagram video below, or cued up on YouTube. The vocalists are, from right to left, Charles Jones on lead, Solomon Dorsey (also on bass), Jon Seale, Dee Wilson, and Aaron Wesley. James McAlister is on drums, Michael Gungor is on electric guitar, and Tyler Chester is on keys.

Pentecost roundup: Invocations; Holy Spirit as “lodes-mon”; organ improv; tongues of fire in a flower patch

SONGS:

Here are three sung invocations of the Holy Spirit, seeking his power, liberation, comfort, light, and renewal.

>> “Holy Spirit, Come with Power”: This hymn was written by Anne Neufeld Rupp in 1970, who set it to a Sacred Harp tune from 1844 attributed to B. F. White. It’s performed here by the Bel Canto Singers from Hesston College in Kansas, featuring Gretchen Priest-May on fiddle and Tim May on acoustic guitar.

I was introduced to this hymn through the Voices Together Mennonite hymnal, where it appears in both English and Spanish as no. 57.

>> “Mweya Mutsvene” (Holy Spirit, Take Your Place) by Joshua Mtima and The Unveiled: The Unveiled is a collective of Christian musicians from Harare, Zimbabwe, founded by Joshua Mtima in 2020. Here they sing one of their songs in Shona. An English translation is provided onscreen. [HT: Global Christian Worship]

>> “Ven Espíritu Divino (Secuencia de Pentecostés)” (Come, Spirit Divine) by Pablo Coloma, performed by Chiara Bellucci: The Spanish lyrics of this contemporary Christian song from the Latin American Catholic tradition are in the YouTube video description. They ask the Holy Spirit, “sweet guest of our souls,” to come bringing healing, regeneration, growth, joy, and charisms.

+++

SUBSTACK POST: “Veni Creator Spiritus: A Lush Middle English Hymn” by Grace Hamman, Medievalish: Dr. Grace Hamman shares Friar William Herebert’s (ca. 1270–ca. 1333) Middle English translation of the classic Latin Pentecost hymn attributed to Rabanus Maurus (ca. 780–856), “Veni Creator Spiritus” [previously]. Herebert uses words like vor-speker (for-speaker; i.e., intercessor), lodes-mon (lodesman; i.e., journeyman or navigator), and shuppere (shaper) as titles for the Holy Spirit.

+++

ORGAN WORK: “Improvisation on Veni Creator Spiritus” by Alfred V. Fedak: “Your congregation will hear the rushing of the Holy Spirit in this improvisatory prelude (taken from Fedak’s and Carl P. Daw’s oratorio The Glories of God’s Grace),” writes Selah Publishing. “Fedak effectively uses sweeping whole-tone scale passages and arpeggios to indicate the Spirit’s presence, while the pedal plays phrases of the hymn tune,” a medieval plainchant. The publisher has posted the following performance of the piece (audio only), by the composer himself, along with a selection of Pentecost art from the thirteenth to eighteenth centuries. [HT: Global Christian Worship]

There are many other works on organ (fantasias, partitas, fugues) based on the “Veni Creator Spiritus” tune; view a select list on Wikipedia.

+++

POEM: “Book of Hours” by Kimberly Johnson: “A pentecost of bloom: all the furred tongues / awag in the iris patch, windrush through the fireflower.” So opens the poem “Book of Hours” by Kimberly Johnson [previously], from her collection Uncommon Prayer (Persea, 2014). A book of hours is a genre of medieval prayer-book used by laypeople, which arranges prayers, scripture, and other devotional texts for reading at prescribed times of the day. Johnson’s “Book of Hours” draws on the fields of codicology (the study of manuscripts as physical objects) and botany to consider how God’s Spirit moves through and enlivens the material world, be it the irises, fire lilies, alyssum, and paperwhite narcissus in her garden, or the ink and natural pigments on calfskin—green verdigris, red cochineal, yellow curcumin—in the rare manuscripts library where she examines a book of hours whose embellished Latin text she can’t quite make out but whose beauty enraptures her nonetheless. These are but two untranslatable experiences of sensual, embodied communion with God that Johnson narrates in the collection, the paint flakes on her lips and the pollen on her wrist a chrism and a prayer.

Four site-specific art installations in churches for Pentecost

I’m always intrigued by how artists respond creatively to sacred Christian spaces when invited to do so by the owning ecclesial bodies. Such invitations tend to appeal to artists, even those of different or no faith backgrounds, because of the chance to work with a (often) grand architectural space already charged with meaning and to make something that will live with a community over time, either temporarily or permanently, likely forming them in some way.

Because the feast of Pentecost is coming up on June 8, in which the church celebrates its “birthday,” effectuated by the descent of the Holy Spirit after Jesus’s ascension (see Acts 2), here are four striking artistic interventions in active or former churches that reference that spectacular event of wind and fire. Only the first was commissioned specially for Pentecost, but the other three bear Pentecostal resonances.

1. Tongues of Fire by Nancy Chinn, Grace Cathedral, San Francisco

Chinn, Nancy_Pentecost
Nancy Chinn (American, 1940–), Tongues of Fire, 1988. Fifty painted nylon-net strips, 18 in. × 10–50 ft. (dimensions variable). Temporary installation at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco.

Nancy Chinn is a liturgical artist and lay feminist theologian living in California, working in fibers and mixed media. Her Tongues of Fire was originally installed in Grace (Episcopal) Cathedral in San Francisco for Pentecost 1988, and she has since reprised it in a handful of other churches throughout her career.

It consists of fifty strips of nylon netting, painted in red, orange, and gold and suspended along the expansive neo-Gothic nave. She chose that number based on the etymology of the word “Pentecost,” which means “fiftieth” in Koine Greek; it was the name Hellenistic Jews used to refer to the Jewish festival of Shavuot, celebrated fifty days after Passover, but it also became a Christian festival in the first century CE when, fifty days after Jesus rose from the dead, his Spirit descended to empower his nascent community of followers.

Draped in a mighty sweeping movement and overlapping one another, the streamers respond to air flow in the space, furthering the sense of dynamism.

2. Tilting at Giants by Dayton Castleman and Fall to Flight by Alison Dilworth, Broad Street Love, Philadelphia

Castleman, Dayton_Tilting at Giants
Dayton Castleman (American, 1975–), Tilting at Giants, 2006. Aluminum, steel, votive candles, glass votive holders, braided fishing line, steel cable, and rigging hardware. Permanent site-specific sculpture, Broad Street Love, Philadelphia.

Tilting at Giants was commissioned by Broad Street Ministry (renamed Broad Street Love in 2024), a nonprofit organization in downtown Philadelphia providing stabilizing services to individuals experiencing deep poverty. It’s housed inside the former Chambers-Wylie Memorial Presbyterian Church, a historic turn-of-the-century Gothic Revival church that closed its doors in 1999 due to dwindling membership and the death of its pastor. The Presbytery of Philadelphia (PCUSA) leased the building for a few years to the University of the Arts, who used it for classes and events.

Then in May 2005, Rev. Bill Golderer rejuvenated the dormant church by opening Broad Street Ministry, billed as “an innovative Christian faith community that emphasizes the Gospel imperatives of extending generous hospitality, demonstrating justice and compassion, and providing a ground for artistic expression.” He removed the pews and set communal dining tables in their place, inviting in guests off the streets to enjoy chef-prepared meals all week long. The organization also provides legal help, fresh clothes, medical assistance, and a mailbox for those who lack a permanent address.

In its first year, Golderer issued an open call for proposals for a site-specific art installation that would be funded by the city’s Percent for Art program. Multidisciplinary artist Dayton Castleman, who lived in Philly at the time but who is now based in Northwest Arkansas, was awarded the commission.

His project comprises twelve large windmills that hover in the air, six in a line down each side of the vault—“unexpected, anachronistic, misplaced . . . [and] completely still,” Castleman says. He elaborates:

This stillness infuses the atmosphere with a sense of uneasy expectation. The brilliant towers, tall and clean, flash against the dark, vaulting canopy above. Like sentinels keeping watch, the sun-burst fans are poised, brimming with potential energy, waiting for a mysterious, transcendent wind to fill the space and make it sacred. Cradled within each tower, nearly lost in the spectacle, hover votive candles, glowing, unflickering, in prayer. This sanctuary is a living prayer—an aching, tense, expectant prayer—and a hair pulled taut, waiting to snap. . . .

The air is rich with suggestions and intimations of the invisible.

His artist’s statement also mentions Pentecost. On that seminal day two millennia ago, the disciples were gathered in Jerusalem with anticipation, as Jesus had told them, just before returning to the Father, to remain in the city until they received their new baptism, “for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now” (Acts 1:5).

Broad Street Love
Broad Street Love in Philadelphia, with art installations by Dayton Castleman (windmills) and Alison Dilworth (swallows). Photo: Bradley Maule.

Broad Street Love (upward view)

Shortly after Castleman’s Tilting at Giants was installed, it was joined by Fall to Flight, a flock of approximately six hundred origami swallows suspended from the ceiling, containing written prayers of the community. Created by Philadelphia-based artist Alison Dilworth, the multicolored birds winging overhead evoke the unleashed joy of the Holy Spirit, who is sometimes compared in scripture to a dove, but also Jesus’s encouragement in the Sermon on the Mount that God will provide for the needs of his children, just as he provides for our avian friends who neither sow nor reap nor gather.

3. HS by Maciej Urbanek, St. Michael’s Church, Camden Town, London

Urbanek, Maciej_HS
Maciej Urbanek (British, 1979–), HS, 2014. Digital photographic print, 10 × 7.5 m. St. Michael’s Church, Camden Town, London.

HS by the Polish-born British artist Maciej Urbanek is a monumental composite digital print installed on the west wall of St. Michael’s (Anglican) Church in Camden Town, London, covering up damaged plasterwork in need of restoration. What appears to be an explosion of silvery light is an effect produced with black plastic trash bags, which the artist crumpled up, lit, photographed, digitally reworked, and inkjet-printed on a large scale. Winner of the 2015 Art+Christianity Award for Art in a Religious Context, the work brings a baroque aesthetic to the Victorian interior.

“I am interested in elevating the banal and prosaic elements of life and turning them into powerful and rich visual statements,” Urbanek has said. A sign at the church says that Urbanek’s use of an everyday material to make something so beautifully radiant is “a metaphor for God’s work in taking ordinary human lives and making them extraordinary.”

Commissioned by Father Philip North (then the team rector of the parish of Old St Pancras) and privately funded by John Booth, HS was intended to be a temporary installation, but it was so well received by the parish that it has become a permanent fixture. According to the church’s X account, it “represent[s] the Holy Spirit breaking in from the outside world.”

The artwork’s location just behind the church’s baptismal font creates a linkage between the sacrament of baptism—in the Church of England, marking the beginning of a journey with God and the baptizand’s membership in the community of faith—and the work of the Spirit, who came at Pentecost with great power to set ablaze and send out. Indeed, HS can be read as that dramatic moment of the Spirit’s outpouring, and that parishioners walk past it when they exit the sanctuary is a reminder that they leave empowered by the Spirit to live and proclaim Christ’s gospel.

Thank you to Sheona Beaumont for introducing me to this work in her book The Bible in Photography: Index, Icon, Tableau, Vision. It is also the subject of a 2021 essay by Jonathan A. Anderson, “Bin bag visions: Theological horizons in Maciej Urbanek’s HS,” which I don’t have access to.

Roundup: Tea with strangers, church forests of Ethiopia, and more

CHILDREN’S BOOK: Let There Be Light by Desmond Tutu, illustrated by Nancy Tillman: I saw this enchanting little book at my local library recently—a retelling of the creation narrative from Genesis 1 by the late South African Anglican bishop, theologian, and Nobel Peace Prize laureate Desmond Tutu. Published by Zonderkidz in 2014, it opens, “In the very beginning, God’s love bubbled over when there was nothing else . . .” Hear it read aloud, and view the illustrations, in this video from the Seuss’s Gooses YouTube channel:

+++

ARTICLES:

>> “Artist Traveled to Over 30 Cities to Perform Tea Ceremony with Strangers,” an interview with Pierre Sernet by Jessica Stewart: From 2001 to 2008, artist Pierre Sernet (French-born and residing in Japan) traveled to over thirty countries to spontaneously enact abbreviated Japanese tea ceremonies, inviting passersby to come sit and drink the cup of matcha he prepared in front of them. From deserts and beaches to villages and construction sites, he would set up a portable, open-air wooden cube that denoted the “tea room,” and the ensuing encounters were documented with photography. Called One (and nicknamed Guerrilla Tea), the series was meant to promote respect across cultures and “to emphasize to viewers the importance of each moment we live in.”

  • Sernet, Pierre_Denilson, Niteroi, Brazil
  • Sernet, Pierre_Kheth and Mayndevi, Jaisalmer, India
  • Sernet, Pierre_Shinya, Rockefeller Center, NY

View more photos at https://pierresernet.com/one/.

>> “A Teeter-Totter Style Bench Invites Sitters to Find Common Ground” by Grace Ebert: “In the Garden of Generations in Einbeck, Germany, a playful new installation asks park goers to find equilibrium with their neighbors. ‘Balance Bench” is the latest project of Berlin-based artist Martin Binder. Installed in his hometown, the interactive artwork rests on a central cylinder rather than four legs, requiring that at least two people sit on either side to level. ‘It cannot be used alone—it demands awareness, consensus, and cooperation between people to become a functional public space,’ he says.”

Binder, Martin_Balance Bench
Martin Binder (German, 1990–), Balance Bench, 2025. Steel, oak. Installation at the Garden of Generations, Einbeck, Germany. Construction by Henning Müller Sondermaschinen. Photo by Spieker Fotografie.

+++

PHOTO SERIES: Hierotopia by Kieran Dodds: “Kieran Dodds (Scottish, b. 1980) is a non-fiction photographer known for his research-driven photo stories and portraiture. His personal work considers the interplay of environment and culture, and the importance of spiritual belief in global conservation.” In his Hierotopia series (from the Greek for “sacred place”), carried out from 2015 to 2018, he explores the green “church forests” east of Lake Tana in Ethiopia—little islands of biodiversity scattered throughout the region’s desert landscape. “To its guardians,” Dodds writes, “each forest resembles a miniature Garden of Eden and is essential to the dignity of the building. . . . The air inside the forests is cool, fragrant and filled with a cacophony of life. This is in stark contrast to the arid silence of the surrounding land which is feeling the strain of centuries of human activity and agriculture.”

Dodds, Kieran_Hierotopia
Debre Mihret Arbiatu Ensesa church near Anbesame, Ethiopia, surrounded by woodland and fields. Photo: Kieran Dodds, from the Hierotopia series, 2015–18.

“The core Christian belief in stewardship for the environment is a powerful concept,” Dodds continues, remarking on the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church’s commitment to conservation, “and, if applied globally by people who are at least nominally Christian, could transform the world for better.”

+++

SONGS:

>> “Hold You in Our Circle” by Emily Roblyn: This simple song of blessing by UK-based singer-songwriter and retreat leader Emily Roblyn has been sung at the bedsides of the sick or dying, over women about to be released from prison, and through myriad other life transitions and trials, by friends and communities seeking to voice their support. “We hold you in our circle, hold you in our love.” [HT: Nadia Bolz-Weber]

>> “The Lord Bless You and Keep You” by Peter C. Lutkin: Performed by the Capital University Chapel Choir in 2020, this song is a choral setting by the Midwestern composer Peter C. Lutkin (1858–1931) of the Aaronic Blessing from Numbers 6:24–26: (in Lutkin’s rendering) “The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD lift his countenance upon you, and give you peace; the LORD make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you.” God instructed the Levitical priests of ancient Israel to pronounce these words over the people, and though the Levitical priesthood is no more, this particular benediction is still used regularly in Jewish and Christian liturgies.

“Easter Song” by Sedulius Scottus, trans. Helen Waddell

Illustration by Virginie Cognet
Virginie Cognet, Danse, 2023. Gouache on satin-finish watercolor paper, 70 × 50 cm.

Last night did Christ the Sun rise from the dark,
The mystic harvest of the fields of God,
And now the little wandering tribes of bees
Are brawling in the scarlet flowers abroad.
The winds are soft with birdsong; all night long
Darkling the nightingale her descant told,
And now inside church doors the happy folk
The Alleluia chant a hundredfold.
O Father of thy folk, be thine by right
The Easter joy, the threshold of the light.

This English translation of Sedulius Scottus’s “Carmen paschale” originally appeared in Mediaeval Latin Lyrics by Helen Waddell (Henry Holt, 1929) and is in the public domain.

Sedulius Scottus (fl. 840–860) was an early medieval Irish monk, poet, teacher, and biblical commentator. (He is not to be confused with the fifth-century poet Caelius Sedulius, who also wrote a [much longer] Carmen paschale, consisting of five books.) Driven out of his monastery by Viking invaders, Sedulius settled in the city of Liège under the protection of Bishop Hartgar. While living in exile on the Continent, he established himself as a leading literary figure of the Carolingian Renaissance. One of his most important works is De Rectoribus Christianis (On Christian Rulers), an instructional treatise on governing and a noteworthy contribution to Christian ethics. Sedulius was at least trilingual, proficient in Irish, Greek, and Latin. Eighty-three of his poems survive, composed in a variety of classical meters and ranging from mock heroic epics and philosophical puzzles to hymns of praise and drinking songs.

Helen Waddell (1889–1965) was a medieval literature scholar, historical novelist, playwright, and translator (from medieval French and Latin to English) who was awarded the Benson Medal of the Royal Society of Literature. She was born in Tokyo to an Irish Presbyterian missionary family, spending the first eleven years of her life in Japan. She was later educated in Belfast, Oxford, and Paris and became part of a circle of friends in London that included W. B. Yeats, Virginia Woolf, and Siegfried Sassoon. In addition to writing, she worked as a literary adviser and reader for the esteemed publisher Constable. She is the subject of an award-winning biography by Dame Felicitas Corrigan, published in 1986.

Addendum, 1/19/26: The hymn-writer Dan Damon has composed a beautiful, singable setting of this text, available from Hope Publishing Company. He told me he was inspired by reading this post.

Roundup: Ellsworth Kelly’s “Austin,” new book by Jonathan Anderson, religion in pop art, and more

PRINT INTERVIEWS:

>> “What Remains: The Making of Ellsworth Kelly’s Last Work,” Image interview with Rick Archer: I got to experience Ellsworth Kelly’s Austin—a modernist “chapel” containing three stained glass windows, fourteen black-and-white marble panels (Stations of the Cross), and a redwood totem—while in Texas for a CIVA conference in 2021; see some of my photos below. Kelly was an atheist inspired by Romanesque church architecture, and the architect he chose to collaborate with on Austin, Rick Archer, is a Christian. In this wonderful new interview by Bruce Buescher, Archer discusses his working relationship with Kelly, Kelly’s desire for randomization and form over meaning, the technical and architectural challenges of bringing Kelly’s vision to life, religious references, and the artist’s objective for the space. “I hope when people go in here, they will experience joy,” Archer remembers Kelly saying.

  • Austin by Ellsworth Kelly
  • Austin by Ellsworth Kelly
  • Austin by Ellsworth Kelly
  • Austin by Ellsworth Kelly
  • Austin by Ellsworth Kelly

>> “The Invisibility of Religion in Contemporary Art: An interview with Jonathan A. Anderson” by Matthew J. Milliner: Jonathan Anderson [previously] is one of the most important people working across the disciplines of art and theology, and I’m thrilled that his book The Invisibility of Religion in Contemporary Art is now available from the University of Notre Dame Press!

Invisibility of Religion in Contemporary Art

In this recent interview for Comment magazine, Anderson explains his purpose in writing the book:

I have become increasingly convinced that so many pivotal artists and artworks over the past century are deeply shaped by religious traditions and seriously engaged in theological questioning, but this remains severely under-interpreted or misinterpreted in the scholarship about these artists. One might see these threads running through an artist’s artworks and personal writings and even discuss these topics with the artist in their studio, but when one moves to the scholarly writing and teaching about that same artist, that language consistently disappears or is transposed into another register—usually politics, occasionally a highly esoteric spirituality. I wanted to understand, at a non-superficial level, why this was the case, and I wanted to see how other ways of speaking and writing about this topic might be possible.

Don’t miss, at the end of the article, his three hopes for the field of “art and theology,” which I very much share!

+++

LECTURE: “The Problems and Possibilities of Visual Theology: The Ascension as a Case Study” by Jonathan A. Anderson: With Ascension Day coming up on May 29, it’s timely to share this talk given by Jonathan Anderson (see previous roundup item) a few years ago at Duke Divinity School, where he worked as a postdoctoral associate of theology and the visual arts from 2020 to 2023. Anderson explores a handful of images depicting the Ascension of Christ, a particularly challenging subject because of the spatial ambiguity. The scriptural accounts of the event (Luke 24:50–53 and Acts 1:6–11) beg the question, “What does ‘lifted up’ mean? Where is Jesus?” Attempting to work out these spatial difficulties visually can be theologically and exegetically productive, Anderson claims—even if it sometimes leads to unsatisfying results, as, Anderson says, it often does in Western art from the Renaissance onward. By contrast, when artists foster intertextual readings across the biblical canon and focus not so much on what the Ascension looks like as a historical event but rather on what it means, they are generally more successful.

Here are some time stamps, with links to the artworks discussed:

Hosios Loukas
Katholikon of Hosios Loukas monastery, Boeotia, Greece, 1011–12

+++

INSTRUMENTAL JAZZ: “Prayer” by Cory Wong: This video shows a live performance of Cory Wong’s “Prayer” on July 4, 2023, at Gesù music hall in Montreal. Wong, on guitar at far left, is joined by Ariel Posen on guitar, Victor Wooten on bass, and Nate Smith on drums. I learned about Wong through his collaborative album with Jon Batiste, Meditations (2020), which includes a version of this piece featuring Batiste’s piano playing.

+++

EXHIBITION: OMG! Reli Popart, Museum Krona, Uden, Netherlands, April 5–September 7, 2025: This exhibition at Museum Krona (housed in the complex of the still-active Birgittine Abbey of Maria Refugie in Uden, Netherlands) explores the connection between the pop art movement and Christianity through works by artists such as Andy Warhol, Corita Kent, Niki de Saint Phalle, and especially Dutch artists, including Woody van Amen and Wim Delvoye. Pop art is characterized by the use of imagery from popular culture, sourced from television, magazines, comic books, ads—and sometimes from the trash bin.

Jacques Frenken [previously], for example, built a body of work by salvaging discarded plaster sculptures of Christ and the saints—mass-produced for Catholic devotional use—and reconstructing them into assemblages. For his Spijkerpiëta, he “brought the Pietà back into our midst and accentuated the pain it radiates with nails,” the artist said.

Frenken, Jacques_Spijkerpieta
Jacques Frenken (Dutch, 1929–2022), Spijkerpiëta (Nail Pietà), 1967. Plaster, paint, iron, wood. Museum Krona, Uden, Netherlands.

Another artist represented in the exhibition is Hans Truijen, who was commissioned in the 1960s by St. Martin’s Church in Maastricht to design eight stained glass windows for their worship space. The four along the left aisle of the nave depict human and divine suffering, whereas those on the right express hope, love, freedom, and happiness. He chose photographic images from various periodicals, including ones of the Vietnam War, and transferred them to glass using a special screen-printing process.

Truijen, Hans_Stained glass
Hans Truijen (Dutch, 1928–2005), Studies for the eight stained glass windows commissioned by St. Martinuskerk, Wyck-Maastricht, Netherlands, 1966–68. Courtesy of the artist’s son, Marc Truijen.

Mother-child artworks by Elizabeth Catlett

Last month I saw the exhibition Elizabeth Catlett: A Black Revolutionary Artist at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, an impactful display of over two hundred prints and sculptures from throughout Catlett’s illustrious seven-decade career. Organized in partnership with the Brooklyn Museum of Art, where it first opened last year, the show focuses on Catlett’s advocacy, through her art and her on-the-ground activism, against poverty, racism, war, and gender oppression—her promotion of human dignity and freedom for all. Her work especially celebrates the beauty and strength of African American working-class women.

The exhibition title comes from a speech Catlett delivered in May 1970 by phone from Mexico to attendees at the Conference on the Functional Aspects of Black Art at Northwestern University outside Chicago, which she could not attend in person because the United States refused her entry to the country on the grounds of her allegedly dangerous politics: “I have been, and am currently, and always hope to be a Black revolutionary artist, and all that it implies,” Catlett stated.

Born in 1915 in Washington, DC, and raised there, Catlett witnessed class inequality, racial discrimination, and US imperialism firsthand, which formed her consciousness and influenced the direction her art would go. After graduating from Howard University, she spent time teaching in Durham (North Carolina), New Orleans, and Harlem and studying art in Iowa and Chicago before permanently settling in Mexico in 1946, becoming a Mexican citizen in 1962. She married the Mexican printmaker and muralist Francisco Mora in 1947, and they had three children together, all sons.

Black motherhood is a recurring subject in Catlett’s work, starting with her MFA thesis project in 1941 at the University of Iowa, a limestone sculpture of a mother and child that won first prize at the America Negro Exposition in Chicago that year but that is now lost. “Black women have been cast in the role of carrying on the survival of Black people through their position as mothers and wives, protecting and educating and stimulating children and Black men,” Catlett said. “We can learn from Black women. They have had to struggle for centuries.”

The social justice framework of the current retrospective exhibition leaves plenty of room for Catlett’s depictions of mothers with their children. What follows are photos I took of some such works.

Catlett, Elizabeth_Mother and Child
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Mother and Child, 1956. Terracotta, 28.6 × 17.8 × 17.8 cm (11 1/4 × 7 × 7 in.). Museum of Modern Art, New York.

My favorite is a terracotta sculpture made just a year after the lynching of fourteen-year-old Emmett Till, whose mother Mamie Till’s response was an important catalyst of the civil rights movement. It brings two bodies—that of mother and infant son—into one volume. Art historian Leah Dickerman remarks on

the uncanny way that it seems both intimate and monumental at once. Intimacy lies in the way the weight of the child’s face presses against the mother’s breast, the mother’s right leg pushed back to stabilize her balance and her head nestled against the child’s scalp, breathing in that smell. Tenderness, both affectionate and shielding, is conveyed so keenly it almost aches. . . . Catlett seems to capture, somehow, the idea of remembering something fleeting, the sculpture a tiny memorial to loving protection that cannot be maintained.

Catlett, Elizabeth_Mother and Child (detail)

Platformed across from this sculpture is another, in mahogany, this one modernist, abstracted:

Catlett, Elizabeth_Mother and Child
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Mother and Child, 1970. Mahogany, 49.5 × 33 × 21 cm (19 1/2 × 13 × 8 1/4 in.). Currier Museum of Art, Manchester, New Hampshire.

It shows a mother holding her baby in a swaddle, his or her head gleefully poking out from the folds. While the baby seems happy, the mother seems stressed, as she turns her head away and grabs her head with her hand, which I interpret as her taking a deep breath to compose herself for several more hours of caregiving before bedtime.

Another mahogany sculpture is borrowed from the New Orleans Museum of Art:

Catlett, Elizabeth_Mother and Child
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Mother and Child, 1983. Mahogany, 134.6 × 33 × 33 cm (53 × 13 × 13 in.). New Orleans Museum of Art, Louisiana.

The adjacent wall text quotes art historian Melanie Anne Herzog, author of Elizabeth Catlett: An American Artist in Mexico:

Becoming a mother, Catlett told me, was her most creative endeavor. She returned to the theme of maternity throughout her career in sculptures that illuminate the intimate physical bond between mother and child, a child’s comfort in its mother’s embrace, and the anguish of mothers who know they cannot protect their children from future harm. Catlett’s boldly corporeal rendering of maternity centers Black and Brown women in her depiction of this universal theme. I feel the fierce tenderness of this stately standing figure cradling her child, its body melded with hers. Her pensive expression and resolute stance call us to reflect on what she has endured and what her child, too, will encounter in the world that awaits.

One of Catlett’s earliest prints of the mother-child subject is a lithograph from 1944:

Catlett, Elizabeth_Mother and Child
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Mother and Child, 1944, printed 1945. Lithograph, image: 19.7 × 14.3 cm (7 3/4 × 5 5/8 in.); sheet: 31.4 × 23.8 cm (12 3/8 × 9 3/8 in.). Canton Museum of Art, Canton, Ohio.

The label notes how it “recasts Christian Madonna and Child iconography in the context of a racially segregated United States. A leafless tree in the background and the mother’s protective clutch hint at the brutal history of lynching and violence against Black people.”

Even after her move to Mexico, Catlett remained connected to the Black liberation struggle in the US. Her Torture of Mothers from 1970 is based on the photograph by Bud Lee published on the cover of Life magazine’s July 28, 1967, issue, showing a twelve-year-old Black boy lying in a pool of his own blood in the middle of a street in Newark, New Jersey, having been shot by two stray police bullets. The police were trying to suppress the riots that had erupted in protest of the beating of a Black cab driver in Newark by two white police officers, and while Joe Bass Jr. was outside playing with his friends, he got caught in the crossfire.

Catlett, Elizabeth_Torture of Mothers
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Torture of Mothers, 1970. Hand-colored lithograph, sheet: 38.1 × 56.5 cm (15 × 22 1/4 in.); framed: 48.3 × 66 cm (19 × 26 in.). Collection of Juanita and Melvin Hardy.

“Catlett’s composition visualizes the emotional toll such events have on Black mothers and women of color more broadly,” the gallery label reads—mothers whose minds are continually haunted by the racial violence, sometimes even state-authorized, that threatens the safety of their boys. “While Catlett was tracking police brutality in the US, she was also aware of similar state violence against Mexican youth, including the mass shooting of student protestors in 1968 by police at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México where Catlett taught.”

Several of the mothers in Catlett’s art are posed in a protective embrace that seeks to shield their children from harm. The arms of her 1982 Madonna, for example, wrap around a son and a daughter, though her averted eyes look worried:

Catlett, Elizabeth_Madonna
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Madonna, 1982. Lithograph, sheet: 76.2 × 56.5 cm (30 × 22 1/4 in.). Stanley Museum of Art, University of Iowa, Iowa City.

In African American families, children are often raised by their grandmothers. Reflecting adaptability and support, such kinship care is memorialized in These Two Generations, which shows in profile a young boy and the primary maternal figure and caregiver in his life: his grandma.

Catlett, Elizabeth_These Two Generations
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), These Two Generations, 1979, printed 1987. Lithograph, image: 48.3 x 55.7 cm (19 x 21 15/16 in.); sheet: 56.7 x 76.2 cm (22 5/16 x 30 in.); framed: 69.9 x 80 cm (27 1/2 x 31 1/2 in.). Collection of Otis and Harryette Robertson.

Skipping ahead to this millennium, the exhibition includes Danys y Liethis, a portrait of the artist’s niece and great-niece:

Catlett, Elizabeth_Danys y Liethis
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Danys y Liethis, 2005. Offset lithograph, sheet: 71 × 50.8 cm (27 15/16 × 20 in.); framed: 91.4 × 71.1 cm (36 × 28 in.). Collection of Barbara J. Luke.

Lastly, suspended from the ceiling at the exhibition’s entrance/exit, is Catlett’s most unique mother-child sculpture, Floating Family:

Catlett, Elizabeth_Floating Family
Elizabeth Catlett (American, active in Mexico, 1915–2012), Floating Family, 1995. Mexican primavera wood, overall length: 304.8 cm (120 in.). Collection of the Chicago Public Library.

It’s striking! Art historian Elissa Yukiko Weichbrodt writes beautifully about it on her Substack, whose words I’ll close with:

In many of her depictions of motherhood, Catlett unifies the mother and child into a single form, emphasizing their intimacy. But I’ve been thinking about her large-scale sculpture Floating Family, which usually hangs above the circulation desk at the Legler Branch of the Chicago Public Library. Here, mother and daughter are still tethered together, but instead of standing upright they are now perfectly horizontal. Are they maple seed pods, spinning and falling to the earth to plant something new? Or a rotor, lifting upwards, leaving gravity behind? Despite the seeming precarity of the moment, the mother’s face is calm and set, and the daughter looks up at her, trusting.

I imagine that it does something different in the context of a library than as the closing object in a museum retrospective. For me in October, after seeing so many sculptures of mothers cuddling their children close, this work evoked the particular terror and thrill of parenting adolescents. Now, it suggests more than that: the labor and love we give not only our children but our communities and the way that hope can sometimes feel like a free fall.


Elizabeth Catlett: A Black Revolutionary Artist will continue through July 6, 2025, at the National Gallery of Art before traveling to the Art Institute of Chicago for its final leg from August 30, 2025, to January 4, 2026. You can purchase the exhibition catalog here and view some of my other photos on Instagram.