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When asked, “What does Initially, as I often gazed upon
African-American art mean to this ecstatic, hip-swinging, feet
you?” I refected upon “art as stomping, rambunctious dance,
a creative expression of one’s I could “hear” the tempestuous
imagination that emerges as rhapsody and “feel” the rhythmic
visual oral and aural reality.” vibrations as I pondered why I
Historically, African-American was enchanted with it. Why had
art emanated from our Mother Goodnight imbued it with that
Continent, portraying a dichotomy provocative title? Does their synergy
of oppression and pain juxtaposed suggest that the landlord and his
with a desire for power and tenant are having an afair? They are
freedom. It is a haunting echo of certainly extolling their mutual joy!
a rhythmic and sensual drum beat
and as aesthetically unique as the Hmmmm!!
subtleties of nature itself in color Later, on one quiet, pensive
and contour. evening, I instinctively knew the
source of my pictorial adoration.
“Black art” embraces all facets
of soul and spirit across all cultural and generational It was that presently, as the shades
boundaries as it depicts and explores how our people of night begin to descend upon my twilight years, this
have been perceived by self and others. It is manifested rendering by Paul Goodnight reminds me that I too
through a multitude of forms, embracing fne art, am having a glorious afair with my landlord…the Man
music, architecture, dance, textiles, photography, upstairs…our Heavenly Father, who holds my infnite
graphics, poetry, creative oral expression, functional mortgage. As His tenant, I fnd that Goodnight’s “visual
and decorative design and the literary. Today, as in song” resonates my joyful expression of gratitude to
yesteryear, we continue to express our inner challenges, Him for his magnanimous gift of longevity.
outer jubilations and visions for our future, as we leave a Gratitude and enchantment are universal and
legacy of a controversial mosaic for the world to digest, expressed so artistically and eloquently in the many
critique and enjoy. melodic, lyrical, and creative languages within our
Mother Continent. A sampling is refected in Yoruba
When I was asked, ”What do you like about African-
American art?” a myriad of images cavorted before me when the Nigerians say, “Mo was layo fun ayee mi”
as they cascaded from my memory like beads from (I am joyful for my life). The Dinkas of the Sudan are Oba, Benin
a broken Maasai neckpiece. When confronted with rhythmical in their refrain, “Yic ya piox yice rec” (In me
the need to give decisive answers and make selective life is good.) And in Liberia, “nyelleh eh deh coo poh
choices about something or someone, I always sing yah be kwa deh yenneh poh ageh coo y mammah say
softly to myself a revered hymn, “Open My Eyes That I e mahn minni mma!” ( We share our workmanship (art)
May See.” I spontaneously engage in this exercise in with the world to thank You for Your blessings). In
order to comprehend any submerged intent beyond my America, “Hallelujah!” says it all.
initial impression, or to derive a personal connection I am proud to acclaim African-American art as a
beyond the obvious. In answer to October Gallery’s legacy of birth from the womb of our African Homeland,
question, several artists’ conceptualizations emerge as and am intrigued by the belief, proposed in some arenas
my favorites: White Chocolate by Lady Bird Strickland, of idealism, that our frst Black artist is Our Creator
which parallels my historical biography of an ancestral of Life.
Southern plantation and slave ownership, with mixed
heritage. Another is Ascension by Larry “Poncho” Erlene Bass Nelson, Ed.D.
Brown, which exalts my exuberant faith. Among the Educator
many others, however, it is Paul Goodnight who “sang Philadelphia, PA
my song” as he captured my essence in his rendition
of The Landlord.
Tea and Biscuits by Gilbert Young
393
392 393
When asked, “What does Initially, as I often gazed upon
African-American art mean to this ecstatic, hip-swinging, feet
you?” I refected upon “art as stomping, rambunctious dance,
a creative expression of one’s I could “hear” the tempestuous
imagination that emerges as rhapsody and “feel” the rhythmic
visual oral and aural reality.” vibrations as I pondered why I
Historically, African-American was enchanted with it. Why had
art emanated from our Mother Goodnight imbued it with that
Continent, portraying a dichotomy provocative title? Does their synergy
of oppression and pain juxtaposed suggest that the landlord and his
with a desire for power and tenant are having an afair? They are
freedom. It is a haunting echo of certainly extolling their mutual joy!
a rhythmic and sensual drum beat
and as aesthetically unique as the Hmmmm!!
subtleties of nature itself in color Later, on one quiet, pensive
and contour. evening, I instinctively knew the
source of my pictorial adoration.
“Black art” embraces all facets
of soul and spirit across all cultural and generational It was that presently, as the shades
boundaries as it depicts and explores how our people of night begin to descend upon my twilight years, this
have been perceived by self and others. It is manifested rendering by Paul Goodnight reminds me that I too
through a multitude of forms, embracing fne art, am having a glorious afair with my landlord…the Man
music, architecture, dance, textiles, photography, upstairs…our Heavenly Father, who holds my infnite
graphics, poetry, creative oral expression, functional mortgage. As His tenant, I fnd that Goodnight’s “visual
and decorative design and the literary. Today, as in song” resonates my joyful expression of gratitude to
yesteryear, we continue to express our inner challenges, Him for his magnanimous gift of longevity.
outer jubilations and visions for our future, as we leave a Gratitude and enchantment are universal and
legacy of a controversial mosaic for the world to digest, expressed so artistically and eloquently in the many
critique and enjoy. melodic, lyrical, and creative languages within our
Mother Continent. A sampling is refected in Yoruba
When I was asked, ”What do you like about African-
American art?” a myriad of images cavorted before me when the Nigerians say, “Mo was layo fun ayee mi”
as they cascaded from my memory like beads from (I am joyful for my life). The Dinkas of the Sudan are Oba, Benin
a broken Maasai neckpiece. When confronted with rhythmical in their refrain, “Yic ya piox yice rec” (In me
the need to give decisive answers and make selective life is good.) And in Liberia, “nyelleh eh deh coo poh
choices about something or someone, I always sing yah be kwa deh yenneh poh ageh coo y mammah say
softly to myself a revered hymn, “Open My Eyes That I e mahn minni mma!” ( We share our workmanship (art)
May See.” I spontaneously engage in this exercise in with the world to thank You for Your blessings). In
order to comprehend any submerged intent beyond my America, “Hallelujah!” says it all.
initial impression, or to derive a personal connection I am proud to acclaim African-American art as a
beyond the obvious. In answer to October Gallery’s legacy of birth from the womb of our African Homeland,
question, several artists’ conceptualizations emerge as and am intrigued by the belief, proposed in some arenas
my favorites: White Chocolate by Lady Bird Strickland, of idealism, that our frst Black artist is Our Creator
which parallels my historical biography of an ancestral of Life.
Southern plantation and slave ownership, with mixed
heritage. Another is Ascension by Larry “Poncho” Erlene Bass Nelson, Ed.D.
Brown, which exalts my exuberant faith. Among the Educator
many others, however, it is Paul Goodnight who “sang Philadelphia, PA
my song” as he captured my essence in his rendition
of The Landlord.
Tea and Biscuits by Gilbert Young
393
392 393
