They Wont Go When I Go

In the summer of 2017, I listened to the NPR Tiny Desk Concert by Chance The Rapper. He ended his set with a cover of Steve Wonder’s “They Won’t Go When I Go.” Chance’s cover is infused with a Southern gospel hymn influence. I remember feeling an immediate connection to it on a Southern, spiritual level as I grieved the loss of my friend. I interpreted Chance’s version as a song about someone left behind after the death of a loved one. Later, I looked up the original Wonder version, inversely intended to reference the rapture and a story about going to heaven before his friends. Hearing two opposite narratives in two different versions of the song, I conceptualized a painting of one friend rising in a rapture-like event while the other gets left behind. This painting challenges those alive to face the pain that accompanies grief.

For many reasons, this piece took quite some time to complete. I knew it was a departure from my previous work. Out of respect for my vision, I gave myself space to hone traditional technical skills. Covid-19 struck a few months into the process, and I was locked down for the first time since Steve’s passing. Amid shared national grief, standing in front of this wall pushed me to face the total weight of loss. It was painful at times but also a needed meditation.

This reverent scene takes place in a scaled-up version of the sanctuary in Westminster Presbyterian church. Having toured European cathedrals in the days leading to Steve’s death, I was inspired by the human attempts to build sanctums large enough to house God. Mixed with the familiarity of Westminster, this sanctuary hosts a divine beam of light illuminating two figures. One of the figures looks upwards and is lifted into the light; the other remains planted on the ground, embracing his friend. Resigned to their circumstances, the figures act matter-of-factly. They find themselves in a resolved way while being sympathetic to the other