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

They Won’t Go When I Go

$12,300.00

In the weeks following Steve’s death while making quarter rings, I filled the dead air with the endless playlists of NPR Tiny Desk Concerts on youtube. Chance The Rapper’s tiny desk was a repeated set during that time. At the end of his concert, he sings a cover of “They Won't Go When I Go”. The song struck me as a hymn and outlined the story of a person taken early, perhaps even in a rapture-like event. I was inspired to meditate on being left behind to grieve Steve, while he didn't have to endure that same grief.

The composition of this piece depicts two figures embraced. The one with his back to the viewer is lifting off the ground and raising towards a beam of light extending from a dark atmosphere. The other figure clings to the first while remaining firmly planted on the ground. The two are situated in the middle of the sanctuary of Westminster Presbyterian Church- expanded to cathedral scale and removed of the familiar pew seating. This is the same church Steve and I grew up in and the church that would host Steve’s funeral. The image reimagines death in the sense of being claimed by heaven rather than leaving the living, however, the figure still expresses the pain and desperation in this otherwise kinder opinion of death.

They Wont Go When I Go