Biblical narrative played an extremely important role for slaves during American slavery and in the early African American church. Through singing spirituals, the slaves recited history and narratives from both the Old and New Testaments, highlighting stories of suffering and deliverance. The use of these stories was not merely to find comfort, wisdom, and hope in inspiring stories, but in reciting biblical stories they were actually living them out and reciting their own story; it is through this that they found identity, comfort, and joy in the midst of the brutalities of slavery. Stories such as the Exodus, Daniel in the lion’s den, Jonah, Jesus’ incarnation and crucifixion became an archive that slaves could pull from to tell their own stories of suffering and their desire for liberation. 1 Peter 2:9-12 says: “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises to him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” Through retelling biblical stories they became united with suffering saints of the past and found their identity as God’s people, and through these stories they found what God does for His people: He liberates them!
Aaron Douglas continues this tradition of storytelling during the Harlem Renaissance as he brings together the African American experience and biblical narrative into one through his paintings. Many of these artworks were originally created for James Weldon Johnson’s book, God’s Trombones. Even though he used biblical narratives as inspiration, he claimed that spirituality was not his motivation, but rather that biblical narrative was a medium through which to express the desire for liberation. While this collection only features works by Aaron Douglas, other African American artists such as William H. Johnson, Henry Ossawa Tanner, and Jacob Lawrence similarly tie together used biblical narrative and the African American experience.
“Didn’t My Lord Deliver Daniel”
Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel,
Deliver Daniel, deliver Daniel,
Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel,
An’ why not every man.
He delivered Daniel from de lion's den,
Jonah from de belly of de whale,
An’ de Hebrew chillun from de fiery furnace,
An’ why not every man?
(James Weldon Johnson, The Book Of American Negro Spirituals, 148-149)
“He’s Jus De Same Today”
(James Weldon Johnson, The Book Of American Negro Spirituals, 80-81)
The Creation, Aaron Douglas (American, 1899–1979), 1927, gouache with graphite underdrawing on paper, 11 3/4 x 9 in. Courtesy of the SCAD Museum of Art, gift of Dr. Walter O. Evans and Mrs. Linda J. Evans.
The Creation was originally one of the drawings for James Weldon Johnson’s God’s Trombones. In the book, this painting is featured alongside a poem by Johnson which emphasizes God’s particular and intimate work of creating man from the dust and clay. Another African American theologian and writer, Howard Thurman, says: “You are created in God's image. You are not slaves, you are not 'n-----s'; you are God's children” (Howard Thurman, "Deep River," 66). This painting reminds of an identity as God’s good creation; His image bearers and children. The rainbow behind the figure even raises the idea of a promise between God and man; a promise that would later include a Savior and deliverance.
An excerpt from James Weldon Johnson’s The Creation:
Noah’s Ark, Aaron Douglas (American, 1899–1979), 1927, oil, 121 x 91 cm, Private Collection.
In Noah’s Ark, Aaron Douglas depicts a chaotic scene that seems to encapsulate the entirety of the biblical flood account into one image. Workers can be seen building the ark while animals are making their way in, but at the same time the storm, the breaking of light, and the two birds can be seen. The beam of light that shines across the canvas, highlighting the implied Noah on the ark, not only sets this character apart, but is like a sign of God’s presence and favor. Like in the spirituals, the use biblical stories breaks down the barriers between the past, present, and the future; “the already and the not yet.” They prophetically recite history, trusting God’s sovereignty and faithfulness, that He will deliver His people both spiritually and physically (Lawrence W. Levine, Black Culture and Black Consciousness, 51).
Let My People Go, Aaron Douglas (American, Topeka, Kansas 1899–1979 Nashville, Tennessee), ca. 1935–39, Oil on Masonite, 48 × 36 in. (121.9 × 91.4 cm), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Lila Acheson Wallace, 2015, 2015.42.
This is another painting Douglas adapted from his illustrations in Johnson’s book, and by the title, directly connected to the spiritual “Let My People Go”. The figure kneeling in the corner seems threateningly close to being overcome by the waves and the army rising up around him, but a beam of light, like that seen in the previous painting, sets him apart and once again reminds of God’s presence and care even when surrounded by enemies and darkness. Here an important connection is being made between the enslaved people in America and the Israelites enslaved in Egypt. This painting more directly shows the figure crying out to God and begging for help; begging for Him to bring deliverance and to follow through with His promises.
An excerpt from “Go Down Moses”:
The Prodigal Son, Aaron Douglas (American, 1899–1979), after 1927, oil on canvas, J. Harwood and Louise B. Cochrane Fund for American Art, Private collection.
Although this painting is another from Douglas’ work with James Weldon Johnson, this painting takes a slightly different approach to the subject matter, while keeping in a similar style. Many of Douglas’ illustrations for God’s Trombones put the African American experience into the biblical narrative, but uniquely this painting does the opposite; it brings the biblical narrative to the present and tells it through more contemporary experiences. Using imagery of dollar bills, playing cards, and even a trombone, it retells the story of the prodigal son in a more contemporary context. While one would think Aaron Douglas would highlight the joy and celebration of the father upon the son’s return, or even nudge to make a connection between the jealousy of the older brother and the post-civil war white community viewing African American “freedom,” Aaron Douglas instead focuses on the son squandering his inheritance away from his father. Douglas’ creatively implements a beam of light, like those in the previous paintings, using the hanging lamp above. This seems to imply that the continued love and faithfulness depicted in the previous paintings still rests upon the son, even while he runs away from his father; the source of that love.
The Crucifixion, Aaron Douglas (American, 1899–1979), 1927. Oil on Masonite, 121.9 × 91.4 cm (48 × 36 in.), Private collection.
In this painting a connection is being drawn to Christ and the crucifixion where Aaron Douglas is not only identifying with Christ’s suffering and oppression (as seen in the spears from Let My People Go), but also how through the incarnation and the cross, Christ identified with them; their real experience of beatings, hangings, and death of the innocent, was known and experienced by Jesus. 2 Corinthians 1:5 states: “just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.” By being united with Christ, His story became theirs and they were able to hold both the existence of evil and the cross to avoid hopelessness on one side or a cheesy, optimistic, happy-clappy faith on the other. God could handle their suffering because Jesus was the Man of Sorrows who took on flesh; He was born, He suffered, He hung on a tree, and He died. God did not stand by and watch His people suffer, He did something; He sent His own Son, and while he bore the cross (Stephen J. Nichols, Getting the Blues, 34-35).
It is interesting to note the importance of light and emphasis in this painting. While there is significant emphasis on the bearer of the cross, the contrast of the radiating figure in the ray of light emphasizes him as well. It is unclear whether this figure is Christ or, like the previous paintings, a representational figure of God’s people. The previous figures were darker, as if silhouettes or shadows, but this figure is light. Whether or not this is a description of Christ, the message is nearly the same: through unity with Him, His people take on His perfection and are made clean and righteous through Him.
The Judgment Day, Aaron Douglas (American, 1899 - 1979), 1939, oil on tempered hardboard, 121.92 × 91.44 cm (48 × 36 in.), National Gallery of Art, Patrons' Permanent Fund, The Avalon Fund, 2014.135.1
This final painting sounds the horn of end times; of Christ’s return and judgement day. The figure in the middle can be seen sounding the horn while on the left beneath his feet figures tremble as lightning flashes and the ground shakes. On the right, a figure lifts their hands basking in the light, arms stretched up in anticipation as the keys of heaven are at hand. Aaron Douglas’ quotes his own painting, Let My People Go, as the figure kneels in the light on the right, but that same source of light sends down lighting on the figures on the left; depicting the judgment of God’s enemies. Between the lighting, light, waves, and trembling of this, it creates an image that shouts, rumbles, and blares in triumph as shalom is being realized all is being made new.
References
Johnson, James Weldon. The Book Of American Negro Spirituals, New York: Viking Press, 1925.
Levine, Lawrence W. Black Culture and Black Consciousness : Afro-American Folk Thought from Slavery to Freedom. 30th ed. Cary: Oxford University Press, 2007. https://public.ebookcentral.proquest.com/choice/publicfullrecord.aspx?p=5746843.
Nichols, Stephen J. Getting the Blues: What Blues Music Teaches Us About Suffering and Salvation. Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2008.
Thurman, Howard. Deep River and The Negro Spiritual Speaks of Life and Death. Richmond, IN: Friends United Press, 1999.
No comments:
Post a Comment