Three Artists Lead With The Heart

Linda Mickens’s sculpture Unclaimed stands at the back of City Gallery like an altar, a centerpiece. ​“This piece gives voice to the countless victims who died, isolated and alone, to a disease that devastated the world,” Mickens’s accompanying statement reads. ​“Their angels claim them, forever ensuring that their souls do not languish, nameless and faceless in mass graves for eternity.” The note clarifies what Unclaimed is about. But it’s not necessary to bring home the work’s emotional message. The pile of shoes, the tattered wings, the angel’s sad, caring expression are more than enough to bring out the artist’s concern for suffering, and her call for compassion and understanding.

Unclaimed is part of ​“Spaces Within,” running now at City Gallery on Upper State Street through Aug. 20. The exhibition showcases work by Mickens, Susan Clinard, and Shaunda Holloway, ​“three women artists who explore expressions of home, community, and heart. The artists utilize found objects, textiles, paper, wood, and clay to share their stories. They invite gallery visitors to embark on a profound journey of introspection and exploration … unraveling the depths of the human experience.” Mickens’s, Clinard’s, and Holloway’s works should be familiar to people who attend art shows around New Haven. Their grouping together in a show makes sense. 

Many artists in New Haven lead with concepts and ideas. Mickens, Clinard, and Holloway stand out because they lead with emotions, connection, impact. The ideas are still there. But in all three cases, the artists seek to make a viewer feel something first. Their grouping in ​“Spaces Within” magnifies that effect, making for a moving, powerful show that makes the case for deeper empathy in a way that goes beyond words.

Given their concerns with emotional connection, it’s not surprising that all three artists excel in rendering the human face, the means by which we so often convey what we’re feeling and read the emotions of others. ​“We are a patchwork of our family’s stories and experiences,” Clinard writes. The sculptures in the show ​“shed light on the hidden weight we drag, pull, lift, and carry with us. It is based on the study of epigenetics and intergenerational trauma which reveals how trauma can be passed down through generations in the way your genes work.” 

The two figures in the sculpture exemplify Clinard’s concerns. Their faces convey their fatigue and their strength. The path may be hard, but they’re not giving up. The figures are also placed in some ambiguity to one another that raises poignant questions. Maybe if they turned and faced each other, and talked about what they were going through, they could figure out how to share the burden, lighten the load. And on the other hand, maybe they’re not ready to talk. Maybe revisiting the past, at the moment, would only refresh the trauma. Maybe the support they’re giving each other, in their moment of rest, is all they’re asking for, and all they need.

Shaunda Holloway deploys a multitude of faces in her contributions to the show. Many of them are kind and serene, but taken as a group, they convey a sense of strength and resilience. Perhaps they depict the ancestors; in that case, they bring out the way the past can be a source of strength as well hardship. Perhaps they depict the community around us, the way we can rely on others for help. Maybe they suggest that those who are alive and around us now and those who are dead and gone but still resonate through us are two parts of a much larger whole. Reckoning with that, in the work of all three artists, takes an open heart. That lets in more pain. But the growth in compassion, and connection with ourselves and those around us, is worth it.