Ekua Holmes, Paul Goodnight, Ed Johnetta Fowler-Miller

Rivier College Gallery, a view into the smaller room off the main space.



Paul Goodnight, Angel On My Shoulder, graphite

When I first enter Rivier College's gallery in Nashua, New Hampshire, I'm met by Paul Goodnight's images, one in graphite and the other of the same title, in mixed media, although I'm showing you only the graphite.
Loving all things drawn, it is the one I look to first. Eerily, the other partner piece (not shown) is more worried, sharper, dominated by strong color and texture which may be building the image, or breaking it apart.
In contrast, Goodnight's graphite drawing is built from a range of delicate hatched and cross-hatched marks centrally defining the figure and then embraced by the more architectural, contoured lines of the surrounding leaves. These whisper along the edge of father and daughter, caressing the father's form much the way his hand holds onto his daughter's foot. The almost white backpack behind the child echoes the whiter silhouette of the leaves in the lower left and upper right quadrants of the work. There's a coffee colored smudge to the center left, a drop of blue in the upper left, a few erased but incised lines dragged across the upper mid to right side of the image, and a smaller almost duplicate miniature of the total in the lower right...echoes to be found in the lines of the trees and along the father's waist which tilt us slightly to the left and right, much as his body does. He's not quite solid on the ground, his perch potentially tipping and I suppose with him, the potential for his world to fall, and yet he holds steady. We believe he will support his daughter, she won't fall, the earth won't slip under him, those dreamy, silvery greys will continue. Perhaps this is the concern of the exhibitors; there may be calamity around the corner, in the past, or in the future, but the over riding feeling of the whole is one of peace, delight in the noise and the quiet of the living, and talk of place, home, and family.

Ed Johnetta Fowler-Miller, Ultimate Wild Woman, quilt


Ed Johnetta Fowler-Miller greets us as we rise up the steps with her quilt of Indian hand stenciled sari cloth and cotton from India, Africa, and Europe. I love that she so specifically lists where the fabrics come from, taking us around the world in these little notes. The edge of the quilt falls slightly irregular as it sways away from the wall, having the energy of a heartbeat expanding, the zig-zag of pattern and dancing figures, softened and slowed by the quieter salmons and blues. These surround the brighter, central of orange gold which in turn are calmed by the peacock like pattern along the boundary which reminds me of closed, lashed eyes. It is a dance of life, loud and exhuberant one moment and then hushed like a lullaby in the next.

Sr. Theresa Couture has organized the presentation of this exhibition with care. As I enter the space further, I come out of my focused looking for a moment to listen to the happy African inspired sounds of Wynton Marsalis and the Jazz at the Lincoln Center Orchestra with Yacubaddy and Odadaa playing jazz and blues. Drums and trombones, piano and bells are just a few of these joyous, dancing sounds that reach in and around the viewer as the search continues.

Above the guest book and smaller in scale, is a beautiful image titled American Songbook by Ekua Holmes, the third exhibiting artist. The silhouetted portrait (not shown here) faces left and reminds me of portraits from the early Renaissance while standing firmly in contemporary art and American history. It holds a love of texture, collage, written word, and the blessings and grievances of past and present. A signature of a parent is scrawled several times, perhaps the parent of the central figure who is now grown. Grades, math problems, abc's, class photos, and the American flag move around this woman. Thirteen stars remind us of the original states, and with it, the original quarrels and worries. The scene is set beneath a theatrical purple swag with white little cupids dangling above the bluebird and flowers which swish in contrast to the central figure's dignified, steady, black silhouette. Remanants of a story or nursery rhyme irregularly written swing underneath the swag on the right..."Then the Baby Elephant, I will, and he began and the Baby Elephant pulled and pulled...He pulled. The viewer feels the pull of all these elements in contrast to the central figure's steady, non-moving profile. Perhaps there is a connecting and recognition in the contrast of the family domesticity presented along with the uneasy correlations of maps and history.
The image is elegant, a contrast of noise and stillness, demanding, forgiving, and hopeful.



Entering the main gallery, I find a thoughtful arrangement of the three artists' works. Saturated color, energy, tactility, and the presentation of human figures don't compete for my attention so much as support each other. It's as if a group of friends have gathered for conversation with a bit of laughing and a bit of crying still present in the air.





The gallery has never seemed large to me, but presented and balanced with these works, it feels exactly the size it needs to be to support this conversation.



I sit on the centrally located bench in the gallery to enjoy the six Goodnight musicians from the NO Strings Attached Series, predominantly pastel. This is a collection of limbs slumping and bending over instruments, knees jutting out, and larger than life hands insisting on playing and then playing some more. Even when the figures relax or rub sore muscles, the ever large hands and feet anticipate the strumming and tapping to come. There's an energy in both the hanging of the group which bends and twists to aid each other and the strong color which flickers against the warm and cool greys of the paper surfaces much like a whistled note sung between the figures.
This is a small, engaging space with groupings of work well felt, so the mix of work doesn't feel jarring but welcoming, cool air over a sweating neck.



Ed Johnetta Fowler-Miller's quilted works provide surprise and play, I swear I can hear her chuckle as she titles this dominantly blue quilted image, "What Comes Out When You Have a Midnight Storm in Ghana." It is made of Nigerian blue cloth, and indigo cloth from India while encompassing an antique, beaded lizard with wonderful shells forming his spine and toes. There's a sense of the ocean and sky with this palette. The patterns wave, hieroglyphic like in their sense of story as the strong physical presence of the yellow and red-outlined creamy lizard, makes a dynamic diagonal through the center towards the upper right, scuttling across the horizontal bands of blue, happy to be out in the night!

If I glance further down the wall, there's an enigmatic work by Ekua Holmes, titled 'Golden.' It is deceptively simple with it's skipping girl and bright, inviting, colorbook colors. We feel the play, wanting to join in the jump-roping, letting our pig tails of younger years bounce with hers. The image invites community.
Suggested narratives occur throughout the exhibition and this is no exception.
We're offered one central triangular path with it's glorious yellow orange road, similar to the Oz's brick path and above it, another triangle of red and magenta from the child's jacket...but she faces away, oblivious to our journey and focused on her own. A Boston map is collaged within the piece, reminding us of place and perhaps, home. The child's right shoe is untied and she might yet trip while skipping, much as the collaged words hint at potential falls with the words 'suspect, suspended, claimed, and temper' half buried in the blues of sky. 'Hebrew, be a model, and activism' are among other words caught, as if a radio is playing in the back of our minds reminding us of past and present histories. The sky may be blue but it is flecked with clouds, has a storm come or passed? The word 'family' is collaged in the greens of the right side. Perhaps we are growing something good here, something hopeful.



There's plenty more to see in this exhibition,...it's a grouping which wakens the senses with quiet disturbances shuttered in and out of the work, while still encouraging the sun to shine, children to play, and adults the quiet dignity and raucous delight of work and play, all while the sax and the drums voice their beat.


Ekua Holmes, Remember Me - Easter Sunday, collage on board, 2009