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The 2026 Whitney Biennial: The Splinters are Showing

Thu, 09 Apr 2026 04:09:39 +0100

For images of artwork discussed in this post, click here. The first thing I thought as I walked through the Whitey Biennial was—splintered. The work is not just reflection of what is falling apart, however, but also provides examples of how we merge. These examples investigate how to merge selves, humanity with technology, and identities across differences. The artwork on view reveals histories repeating, cycles of destruction, and the repurposing, reclaiming, and remembering how materials are used and manipulated. The exhibition explores the human body: as something soft, existing in space, doubled, and the impact that time, culture, class, and relationships have.

The themes are prevalent in the ceramics in the exhibition. There is not a huge amount of clay. Out of the fifty-six artists, duos, and collectives included, I counted five who have clay as a major component of the work. The ceramic work is spread throughout the two floors of the Biennial and although sparse, is consistent, and constant within the themes that I found threaded through the curation.

Kamrooz Aram’s work caught my eye. The installation includes a beautiful painted wooden screen, a walnut shelf with ceramic pots and painted design, a painting that echoes the designs of the other two pieces, and lastly a mixed media piece on linen that includes illustrations of two pots. All works are installed on a platform with a monochromatic mural painted on the wall behind. The work reflects the splintering that happens when our craft and art becomes something that someone with expertise classifies as merely decorative. How the objects that have had power and use are neutered through classification as decoration. That objects of utility and home are not to be valued in the same way as objects of mass production and disposal. This causes a rift between expertise and experience, storytelling that is not connected to the roots of origin, and one that leaves the artist and their identity something that can be devalued through definitions that are not their own. Aram’s installation feels like home with all the objects included that are beautiful, useful, and ideally both.

Raven Halfmoon’s work provides a path to and through the Biennial. On my visit I walked the Highline to get to the Whitney and came upon “West Side Warrior” on the way. This piece is a reclamation of the classical form of the bust, of Western themes, and of the power of indigenous women. The viewer can stand with the sculpture and see the Whitney behind. As one continues to the museum “The Guardians” greets you at the entrance. “Sun Twins” is installed on the sixth floor window. All three of these sculptures are working to reclaim ancestral craft and the acknowledgement of the seeds that contemporary art and craft grow from. The figures are all direct, stand tall, and look to the horizon. They are both a reminder and a presence that represents the history that some in this country continue to deny. The size, surface, and boldness of Halfmoon’s work declares the need to address history firmly in the present.

CFGNY is a collective including Daniel Chew, Ten Izu, Kirsten Kilponen, and Tin Nguyen and I found their installation “Continuous Fractures Generating New Yields” one of the most delightful to watch visitors engage with. The wooden structure covered in polyethylene sheeting can be walked around and into with windows that allow for peeks of mirrors, porcelain casts of negative space, and stuffed animals. I saw people checking their hair and make-up in the mirrors, squatting to see the stuffed animals through breaks in the sheeting, and peeping the ceramic forms through slots and the windows that make them feel like they are installed in a home. Again, questions of value, utility, disposal, and continuity are brought to light in this work.

Emilie Louise Gossiaux, “Kong Play” is a fabulous installation of one-hundred acrylic painted ceramic Kongs, the dog toy that can be filled with treats and is mostly indestructible. They are a colorful delight in comparison to some of the other works on the fifth floor that deal with bodies in different ways and deal more with death and the loss of bodies through war, colonization, and other atrocities. The ceramic kongs are paired with drawings of Gossaiux with their late guide dog that investigate the connection between the two. The kongs are not identical to those mass produced and are reminiscent of canopic jars. The kongs were made as the guide dog, London’s health began to deteriorate so maybe they are representative of something created to provide for the next life and many more beyond. Ceramic is after all a material that lasts long beyond the bodies that craft the pottery they are made from and how many of us that have lived with animals in our lives do not want to imagine them in the afterlife with all the kongs their hearts desire.

Young Joon Kwak’s, “Divine Dance of Soft Revolt" is not ceramic, but resin, glitter, wax pigment, mirrored glass, and steel. I connect this work to clay as Kwak uses traditional materials and processes in ways that address contemporary subjects and this piece for me was a standout. It is composed of fragmented cast body parts of members of the queer and trans community in Los Angeles installed on fishing wire in a stunning spiral that begins with a platform heel and snakes upward to arms reaching toward the sky. Along with the sculptural forms an audio component contributes to the dazzling atmosphere of the installation. The flash as I walked by drew me in and the glitz is paired with the imprint of bodies within. Even though the materials are solid, I wrote in my notebook as I walked through the installation, “the revolt has to be soft because our bodies are soft and hurt so easily.” The fragility of humanity is clear in this piece and in this section of the exhibition. The works surrounding the installation investigate the plight of humanity on an individual level and in relation to nature, each other, and the history of colonization. Although some powerful work, none quite achieve the brilliant expanse of celebration, joy, humanness, and grief that Kwak’s does.

Erin Jane Nelson’s installation includes twenty-three pieces that are ceramic combined with pin-hole photography. Many are installed on the wall and the ceramic acts as frames for the photographs. What I did not realize at first is that the sculptural ceramic forms are also pinhole cameras! I love the pairing of the haunting photos within the playful ceramic frames. These are objects of remembrance, but what are we remembering, and are we remembering clearly? The distortion of the pinhole cameras and the odd shapes and decoration of the frames combined with the creature-like forms of the camera/sculptures create a nostalgic absurdity. A remembrance of childhood monster cartoons, decorated upholstery, and playing outside.

There are a few other stellar pieces that really impacted me as I experienced the Biennial, and that I think are linked to the types of connections that are necessary to do any kind of community based process like ceramics. José Maceda and Ani Onda Ugnayan, a multichannel sound installation that recreates a composition created for twenty radios and that was played across Manila in 1974 in partnerships with radio stations creating a musical experience that expanded across the city. Mariah Garnett, “Songbook” a video that documents the process of putting on a production of a never performed opera that was written by the artist's great aunt. The video illustrates how we create small gestures out of notes and sound. How an arm or finger moves. How creatives are connecting through music and technology (some of the musicians playing across zoom from different locations). It expresses the power of life, family, and how art traverses countries, boundaries of self, and loss. The commitment to collective creation, the strength and challenge in co-creation, and the complicated histories that map access, value, and consumption across time, culture, and class is inherent in these pieces as it is in the ceramic pieces discussed already.

The intentionality of the pairing, installation, and combination of artists included in the Biennial is incredible and I would attend if you are able. A quote from the Whitney’s Press Release that I found to be true, “A central thread throughout Whitney Biennial 2026 is the question of what it means to be “in relation.” From familial and societal ties to geopolitical and interspecies relationships, the exhibition considers how connection is shaped, constrained, or enabled by the systems we move within.” The Biennial provides a reflection and an antidote to the splintering of the world right now.

The Whitney Biennial 2026 is co-organized by Whitney curators Marcela Guerrero, the DeMartini Family Curator, and Drew Sawyer, the Sondra Gilman Curator of Photography with Beatriz Cifuentes, Biennial Curatorial Assistant, and Carina Martinez, Rubio Butterfield Family Fellow and is on view March 8–August 23, 2026.

Finding inspiration

Tue, 17 May 2016 01:34:52 +0100

This weekend I found inspiration – in friends, in work and in art. It has been a long time since I have written anything on this blog. At the beginning of the year, I decided that in 2016 I was going to return to some semblance of work/life balance. It was two years into my job as executive director at Baltimore Clayworks and it seemed like if I never made it a goal it would never happen. The fact that I found inspiration in so many things this weekend and that I have time to sit here now and record them on the page makes me think that I am on the right path.

My first inspiration came from my job. Two visiting artists, Jill Foote-Hutton and Kevin Snipes joined us at Baltimore Clayworks for workshops both onsite and in community and for an artist talk. Spending time and hearing these two creative individuals share their thoughts on their process, inspiration, the role of the artist in connecting people across difference, social practice and equity was an honor. These two artists although incredibly different in their work and experience have connections in the way they use their craft to make sense of the world, use imagery as a means of storytelling and simultaneously leave room for the viewer to interpret and create stories of their own.

Having the opportunity to spend time with these two artists and the chance to sit in on one of their workshops, left me refreshed and excited to return to my own artistic practice. This was lucky because the morning following the artist talks, I attended an Indigo Tie Dye Workshop offered as part of “Indigo Magic”, an exhibition curated by Kibibi Ajanku. The workshop was led by Cheryl Hinton and brought together an incredible group of people that created tie dye squares that will become part of a collaborative quilt to be shown at the closing reception of the exhibition. The exhibition uses indigo as a lens in which to view the ways that indigenous African traditions show up in contemporary African American Art forms. I have not yet seen the full exhibition, but after the tie dye workshop, I will not miss it. It was incredible to hold the fabric in the buckets of deep greenish/blue and to watch when they were laid out to rest how the bright green deepened into indigo. The transformation was magical and the facilitators' emphasis on the community built during the process added to the confirmation, which was voiced several times in different ways: that art is healing, that art is connecting, that art brings communion, that art brings transformation – to ourselves and to our community.

The knowledge that came out of this making seamlessly tied back to some of the themes of Kevin and Jill from the night before. I found myself inspired by all that I had experienced when my phone buzzed with a reminder that the Creative Alliance was holding its first Activist Speaker Series. I continued my journey across Baltimore to the Patterson and arrived a bit early. This gave me the time to view the main exhibition, “The Simurgh”, which references the mythological creature of transformation and rebirth from Persian folklore and features four contemporary painters from Iranian background. This too is an exhibition not to miss. The intricate drawings of Cameron Shojaei and the large scale painting and collage on mylar, “Time will glide you away, but you will always remain, for nothing is as pure as you are” by Hedieh Javanshir Ilchi both asked the viewer to spend intimate time looking over and through the detail and expanse that were contained in the composition. The gallery was empty as I walked through and I was glad, as it gave me the freedom and space to wander back and forth between the paintings, gazing with fresh eyes time and time again, revealing new details and marks unseen upon previous viewings.

More transformation, more rebirth. It was then time for the talk. Juan Ortiz facilitated the conversation and was joined by Parag Rajendra Khandhar and Dominic Moulden. Juan began the conversation by reflecting on how young people of color need to see their reflection in those offering solutions to the challenges around them. Dominic and Parag then shared some about the work they have done and continued to do both in Baltimore, DC and beyond. I found myself nodding the entire time, the talk covered a variety of topics from equitable development to the demographics of non-profit leadership to the layered issues of power that are inherent in any and all work with people. It was an inspiring talk and I encourage you to attend the next in the series. For me the conversation brought up the continued theme of creativity and transformation, how we struggle to do it as individuals and in our institutions and larger social structures. I am truly honored to have been there and everywhere else that I traveled during the weekend and inspired to continue my own creative journey and transformation.

If you are interested in any of the above, check out:

Baltimore Clayworks – Kevin Snipes has an exhibition in the solo gallery on view until July 2

Indigo Magic – on view at the Frederick Douglass-Isaac Myers Maritime Park and Museum until July 28

Creative Alliance – The Simurgh on view until May 28 and check their calendar for the next Activist Speaker Series

Leveraging Political Power as Artists

Sun, 10 Jan 2016 18:32:52 +0100

“BALTIMORE’S CREATIVE COMMUNITIES ARE COMING TOGETHER TO INCREASE ACCESS TO AND SUPPORT FOR THE ARTS, CULTURE AND THE HUMANITIES IN BALTIMORE CITY. SHARE YOUR TOP PRIORITIES, GET INFORMED ON THE MAYORAL CANDIDATES, AND VOTE IN THE PRIMARY ELECTION ON APRIL 26, 2016.” - Citizen Artist Baltimore

On January 5, I had the privilege of attending the first listening session of Citizen Artist Baltimore, an initiative looking at motivating artists to get out and vote and leverage their potential political power to ensure arts and culture are on the agenda of our local politicians. The listening session, which is one of six ongoing (for more info visit: http://citizenartist.vote/priorities/) are happening across the city and looking to engage the broad and diverse creative community of Baltimore. The conversation was deep and varied as artists gathered at the WindUp Space during D Center Baltimore's monthly Design Conversation. A few of the items brought up by artists in attendance were: artists being represented on decision making committees that impact policy (there are precedents for this in Chicago and Boston), ways to access and activate abandoned spaces, additional funding for public arts projects, etc. Artists also brought up their own experiences with power structures, as well as positive stories of how arts programs have had a positive impact on lives.

It was a good discussion, but I left the conversation wanting to ask additional questions. If successful, what larger impact can the arts community have? If artists find ways to organize into a power bloc, how can this power can be used not just to leverage additional resources for artists, but to address larger structural issues of power and equity? Especially in a city like Baltimore, where the issues of wealth, equity, race and gentrification are visible and need discussion and action, how can artists make sure they are not being coopted by a system that still needs a major transformation and instead act as catalysts for change. How can artists engage and organize not just to help themselves, but to ensure their gain is growing opportunities for others as well?

There is a need to organize within the structure of this current mayoral election and Citizen Artist is doing a great job at getting the arts on the radar of our mayoral candidates. I want to be sure that we are also investigating the power artists have for larger transformational change that will activate and impact access to resources, issues of equity and moving toward a more just and equitable city for all.

There is much work to do. Grateful for all here who are working on many levels from grassroots work at the ground level to policy work and working directly in our institutions.

Fists in the Air: Creed

Mon, 30 Nov 2015 02:52:18 +0100

I am grateful to have spent some of my holiday weekend in the theater watching the film Creed. It floored me. I expected the exciting build up of a young boxer fighting for more than just a win. I was excited that Ryan Coogler was directing and Michael B. Jordan starring. The impact of Fruitvale Station has stayed with me and I know that both would bring their skills and genius to this film. It is a beautiful film. It is a powerful film. It is a film that addresses more than just boxing. It is a film that addresses current context and puts Coogler as one of the most relevant filmmakers in the United States.

In an era of awakening for many white people in this country who can no longer avoid the racial inequity and injustice of our structures because black people have taken to the streets to demand change, this film not only provides an entrance into rewriting media's portrayal of young black men, but also a model for how white people can support those fighting for their lives.

Through Jordan, Coogler depicts a black leader. In a training scene where Jordan runs through the streets of Philadelphia with young men on dirt bikes, we see how important black leadership is in our communities. It is also the scene in one of the original Rocky movies, where Rocky ran up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and jumps up and down with his hands in the air. Creed does not run up the steps of a Eurocentric institution and celebrate alone, he runs with his people, with people often stereotyped and criminalized because of the color of their skin. And in this scene, we can see these young men as running parallel to him, as seeking the same, strength, success, freedom. They also look to do the impossible and in scenes depicting wheelies (and for anyone who lives in a city and has seen these young people ride in the streets) they are achieving the impossible, they are living in a moment of freedom that does not exist otherwise. The scene ends with all in a circle surrounding Creed fists in the air. He is a role model, he is needed, he is fighting for more than just himself.

Rocky in all this is Creed's Unk, or uncle. He supports Creed, works with him and becomes family. And this is one thing we white people can do – we can become family – in such a way that we fight injustice as if it were our own flesh and blood family members experiencing it. Racists structures cannot remain intact if we join the struggle to dismantle them, by support, by listening, by understanding the damage that structural racism continues to cause in communities of color. And in doing this, we will be able to live. Creed also becomes Rocky's family and supports Rocky in fighting cancer, carrying him when necessary, helping him fight to live. There is a very poignant parallel here if we consider what is in it for us, people who are white, in fighting for racial equity. We will also win. We will become more human. We will live.

A second white man in the film who does not support Creed until Creed has shown how well he fights is another model. A model of what will happen (what is happening now) if white people do not bother to understand race as it continues to impact communities of color. This man took a beating, gave respect after the beating and still won (our power structures have not shifted so far yet), but acknowledges the future. Creed is where we are going. Black people are fighting for their lives and they will win. Our youth in cities like Baltimore, Ferguson, Minneapolis, Chicago and others will fight and will win. They have no other choice. We can choose to support them or to stand in the way and end up bloody, possibly dead and in the end forced to acknowledge that they were right.

There is a legacy in the United States that we have inherited. There is a scene in the film where Rocky and Creed do climb up the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art together. In this scene however no one is celebrating and the cameras are not panning to film the museum in all its glory. Instead, as viewers we look over Rocky and Creed's shoulders and Rocky comments that from up there you can see your whole life. If we choose to, as a country, we can climb the steps of our accomplishments and look back on how we got here. If we choose to do this, we will have to acknowledge a history of slavery, Jim Crow, redlining and the continued existence of unequal treatment under the law, unequal treatment that has remained rooted in race. Coogler does an amazing job weaving this into a film about a boxer. A film that had the entire theater shouting and clapping as if it were a live fight in front us. Maybe that is because it is.

Go see Creed. Fight for justice. Put your fists up. Make sure that everyone is family and that we are fighting for their lives as well as our own.

A Question for Andrew W. K.

Fri, 05 Sep 2014 13:47:03 +0100

I attended the first talk in the season of The Contemporary's CoHosts Speaker Series last night. In collaboration with Current Gallery, Andrew W. K. was brought to Baltimore to speak at Baltimore School for the Arts. I did not know much about Andrew W.K. I remember seeing the photo of him with a bloody nose at a gallery in New York years ago, but did not have much other context. Another person in attendance thought he was on the Real World, it turns out he did have a show on MTV. I decided that the talk should incorporate some sort of pyrotechnics and blood based on this limited knowledge.

After introductions Andrew W.K. took the stage and proceeded to recount a dream he had about a magic trick. He went on to parallel artists with magicians stating that art is about using manipulation to make it look like a pipe exists on a flat surface if you are a painter. He then went on to discuss his own practice, the point of which is about "being in that joy zone" and expanding the joy zone to include as many people as possible. The audience was engaged and Andrew W. K. made the room laugh on several occasions, but as I sat and listened I began to feel that the talk lacked content and Andrew W.K. was performing his own magic trick. He was manipulating us into thinking that he had a deep philosophy, namely that partying was the point of life and that if we tried to do things that cheered ourselves up all would be ok - even the negative things because those things made being cheered up that much better.

I wanted to ask a question at the end of the talk, but missed the opportunity so I will pose it here. Andrew W.K. if you ever see this blog post, "What do you think is the artist's role in social justice work?" It seems that if the ultimate goal is to include everyone in this "joy zone" that the only way to do this would be to address inequity and oppression.

City Paper interviewed Andrew W.K. in this week's issue and I am impressed by a question that asked "But pervasive positivity can be a kind of escapism. A way of ignoring why negativity exists, which can be socially irresponsible even." Andrew W.K. responds with an extended contemplation of feelings without ever addressing anything real. The closest he comes to real is mentioning his struggle with depression, but he does not proceed to seriously address mental health issues, marginalization or anything that may contribute to this problem. I wonder what if anything he thinks about poverty, racism, sexism, and all forms of prejudice as they exist and are structured in society. There is something unsettling about his insistence that cheerfulness is a choice and if one makes this choice all will be a party. Parties, however, are never really inclusive, one usually needs to know someone to be invited. As cultural spaces, they are often only comfortable for those who created the environment and so also leave many out.

Another audience member's question about choice was trying to get at some of this, but Andrew W.K. chose not to answer the question. I left thinking Andrew W.K. was there to entertain solely through his talk and his work. Fine. But if he really has a larger goal to make inclusive spaces where people can find joy and connect, I am uncertain of his impact and unsure of where his intention really lies.

Inspiration

Sun, 13 Jul 2014 16:28:13 +0100

Thinking this morning about inspiration. I came across this Maya Angelou quote (thank you Nona who posted it to Facebook):

"My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness. Continue to allow humor to lighten the burden of your tender heart."

And in this I found the inspiration to write this post. In these words, I found the love needed to open my heart and record words on the page. It is funny how great an impact a few words can have. As I now find myself in a leadership position I am often searching for words that will have this great an impact. Always looking to inspire, forgetting sometimes that I need this inspiration as well. And yet, just when I need it the most, the world places right in front of me the words that encourage me to continue, to find my own words, to remain open and proceed with love. The remembrance that this is what we need, inspiration, love, humor, joy. These are the things that make the struggle worthwhile. For there will always be struggle, regardless of who we are or where we come from, life is a challenge, is challenging and to succeed in facing this challenge, one needs inspiration, humor, a lightening of the load, kindness, love.

What are the words you need to hear to continue? Not in misery, but with joy and openness, with a light that will inspire others. What do we need to shine? Inspiration. To be surrounded by those who have struggled and not lost their joy. To be reminded that so long as we continue, as long as we continue to be who and how we are and proceed with kindness we will inspire others and continue to be inspired ourselves.

Four Years

Wed, 12 Mar 2014 22:10:23 +0100

Wow! It has just occurred to me that I have been writing this blog for four years.

Time, which has seemed both condensed and expanded recently never ceases to amaze me.

Four years blogging, in two weeks thirty three years living.

All I can say now, is thank you to all of you that have been a part of it.

On Tim Wise

Sun, 12 Jan 2014 19:46:33 +0100

Recently at dinner a friend asked what I thought of Tim Wise. I knew he had gotten into trouble for his reaction to critics who questioned his speaking at a Teach for America event. The arguments he made pretty much sounded like he was saying, I'm on your side so I can do what I want.

After this dinner, another friend shared this: http://www.blackgirldangerous.org/2013/09/no-more-allies/, a Black Girl Dangerous blog from September which mentions Tim Wise in an argument about "allies" being problematic. Included in the post is a link to a Facebook conversation Tim Wise had, in which he again, pretty much responds to criticism by saying he is doing good work and so shouldn't be questioned. This argument highlights something problematic I have run into often in arguments by white people who are aware that we still do have a problem with race in this country, but are not willing to critically look at their actions within this structure (usually because they are acting with good intentions, but good intentions are not any good if their impact is not positive). Yes, I agree that identifying we have a problem is the first step in being part of the solution. I also agree that working to address racism and using one's leverage and access to resources to do this is honorable, but if one is not willing to enter into this struggle honestly, holistically and open to changing direction this is where a problem arises. Tim Wise because he is a white man still has access to speaking engagements and audiences that many black and brown people do not. This is a result of institutionalized racism. Tim Wise cannot change this single-handedly and he should of course continue to speak against racism in whatever setting he chooses. To be truly fighting against structural and internalized racism however, he must be willing to hear critics and admit that he is working in a flawed system and still has unfair advantage in this system. Using that advantage is not a problem if Wise critically thinks about his actions, is willing to engage in critical dialogue about some of the problematic circumstances he finds himself in (they will arise so long as we are struggling for justice) and admit his privilege when indeed it has provided this access. Finding ways to open the platform that he finds himself having access to is another way to support the fight against racism. What if Tim Wise demanded that he have a person of color speak with him whenever he was asked to speak about white privilege and race?

This work is stressful. Talking about race, especially when one comes from a background where race was not spoken about (because we as a society were trying to go beyond it without actually dismantling racist structures) is difficult. Taking care within this struggle is one of the keys to being able to be reflective and honest, being open to criticism. The friend that initially asked about Tim Wise stated that he thinks his heart is in the right place. He may be right, but what I read in the defensive attitude that Wise has taken in the face of criticism is that even if his heart is in the right place, it may not be open enough to hear where his energy may be best used. This makes his struggle more difficult, puts him on the defensive and causes the reactionary statements that then create more criticism. Of course there will always be haters, who are criticizing to exacerbate rather than make circumstances better and maybe these are the critics that Tim Wise is reacting to, but this does not matter. Tim Wise has the responsibility to respond thoughtfully and critically instead of with the argument that he is doing good so he can do what he wants.

All we can do is look honestly at where we are at, honestly at what we do, take criticism seriously and thoughtfully, continue to do our best to have the greatest impact and be willing to change and grow. If we do have the power to gain platforms for our own opinions and social justice is important to us, how do we then find ways to share this platform with people that do not have the same opportunity?

Gratitude

Fri, 08 Nov 2013 22:52:48 +0100

As I venture into a new opportunity and my next big endeavor, I find it necessary to pause and give a moment of thanks. This gratitude must be shared for it is the love and support I have felt over the past several weeks (and before) that has made the next step in my life's journey one that I am confident in taking. It reminds me that anything is possible when we work together. I feel extremely lucky to be in such an amazing city, full of people working hard to make it even better and that relationships here are formed and forged through collaboration and connection. Baltimore is always ready to show its best and worst aspects simultaneously and it is this honesty which I believe motivates many to do what they can to change what needs to change and highlight all the beautiful and wonderful things that happen.

Thank you to everyone that has reached out this week. Having good news to share about my new role at Baltimore Clayworks has been met with such beautiful sentiments from so many that I know, have known, have worked with and continue to work with that I cannot begin to tell you all how much this means. I look forward to the challenges and joys this new chapter will bring and am grateful for all who are a part of it. Thank you again and again.

Skipping the Hardest Part

Wed, 11 Sep 2013 02:45:51 +0100

This past weekend I finished reading a book by Thea Goodman, The Sunshine When She's Gone. I came across this book while perusing the new releases at the library. It is about a young couple living in New York with a new baby. Clara, the baby, has slept through the night for the first time in her short life and her father John decides to take her to the diner down the street for breakfast so that her mother may sleep in. The diner is closed and instead of returning home John heads to JFK airport and flies with Clara to Barbados.

Upon awakening, Clara's mother Veronica realizes that she has done something that she has not in a very long time, slept until 8am. Her day proceeds in alternating states of panic and indulgence as she flip flops between worrying about her husband and baby and enjoying the much needed time for herself. In Barbados John checks himself into a hotel, feeds Clara cow's milk, which he realizes makes her sick and begins a journey to find the herb infused goat milk that Veronica feeds Clara. John makes the acquaintance of Derek, a cab driver who taxis him around the island on his quest. Veronica in New York has dinner with friends, tries to work and get a hold of John who has eventually left her a message stating he is at his mother's house.

John ends up almost getting a concussion, Veronica ends up engaging in infidelity and Clara, although a bit sick and feverish by the end seems all right. The climax of the story occurs when Veronica and John are back home and see each other face to face for the first time in several days. Veronica knows she has been lied to, John figures out he has been cheated on. There is a pause in the story. This pause is the hardest part. Thea Goodman had the opportunity to write something real at this point in the story, but it would have been much more challenging then what she had already put together. Her characters were caricatures without much depth, but this moment of conflict gave the possibility for something more. This moment when John and Veronica have to confront, not just the mistakes they made, but also the life they made could have been profound. It is clear that neither character thought very much about what they were doing or why and neither were all that satisfied with the lives they led. And yet, somehow after a pause in the story, Goodman writes a happy ending. All is tied up, John is on his way to the diner with Clara for breakfast and makes it there, Veronica even considers going too. They are reconstructed as a happy family, but without the story, the process of healing, without the hardest part.

I suppose I found most of the book entertaining and maybe this would have been enough if Goodman could have found a better way to end it, but the dismissal of even an attempt to write what in life is what makes living rich and meaningful -working through conflict, living reflectively and changing - makes this book fall short of even being a satisfyingly entertaining read. Goodman touched on issues of power, privilege and difference, but like her characters remains a safe distance from having to address any of this. As John exits Derek's cab at the airport in Barbados, Derek says maybe he will one day visit John in New York. John does give Derek his phone number, but on arriving home does not answer the phone. There is more to investigate here, but I think that like her characters Thea Goodman is avoiding the hardest part by pausing, instead of diving into what could be a deep and meaningful look at how many live and why.