Ancestral Lines

Where do we come from? This is probably people’s second most-asked question; the first being, who am I? Poets, theologians, philosophers, scientists and ordinary folks are all equally curious about our human origins. How did we get to be the way we are?

In Ancestral Lines, I visually explore the agreement reached by contemporary archeologists and genetic scientists that modern Homo sapiens originated in East Africa. My fascination with this point of view has deep roots.

In 1988, Newsweek had an article on Rebecca Cahn’s genetic research - DNA studies showing that we have a common ancient mother, Mitochondrial Eve, who lived in East Africa around 170,000 years ago. All of us - regardless of skin color, facial characteristics, ethnic culture, or linguistic expression - can trace our mitochondrial DNA (our maternal line) back to this one woman.

Time magazine reported around 1990 that archeologists had found four sets of footprints in molten lava in East Africa, two large sets and two small ones; presumably this was a family of two parents and two children fleeing a volcanic eruption. What were the relationships and destiny of this small group of humans?

A National Geographic article, “France’s Magical Ice Age Art: Chauvet Cave,” became my muse in the year 2000. Its stunning photographs of cave art inspired my first intentional series of paintings, called Stone Age. Stone Age was followed by other series that culminated in 2008 with Pilgrimage, paintings based on my experiences in cultures around the world.

By 2010, I was groping my way toward a new series about our one Black mother when I heard about National Geographic’s  “genographic project” – a research effort that allows any human being to do a DNA test to reveal the migratory route our ancestors took from East Africa to some part of the world. I knew instantly, “This is the entry point for which I’ve been searching. My new series will be called The Children of Eve.”

In Ancestral Lines, one set of paintings takes an archeological perspective: imagining some of the cultural preoccupations and artifacts of early humans. Another set of paintings takes the perspective of genetic research: translating abstract concepts into visual symbolic representations.

Both perspectives are held in tension by the image of “the crimson line,” a phrase coined by Nikos Kazantzakis. To me it means, “You, me, and every person who has ever lived have a common heritage that is carried in our blood. We trace a crimson line through history, all the way back to one Black woman in East Africa.“

I find great meaning in knowing that I am connected to the artists of Chauvet Cave, to a family fleeing a volcanic eruption in East Africa, and to Mitochondrial Eve.