Covenant: Scenes from an African American Church is a evocative black-and-white photo essay by Tyagan Miller that takes the viewer behind the scenes and into the pews of the Friendship worship community in the near west side neighborhood of Indianapolis, Indiana. It is, as Miller states in his Photographer’s Note at the close of the book, “an attempt to bear witness to the complex life of [a] spiritual communit[y].” Interestingly, he chose the project--or rather, he might argue, the project chose him--because he noticed that the most successful of the high-risk urban youth he had worked with were, invariably, connected to church life. Seeking to understand the role of this “vital aspect of black culture” Miller entered the church as an outsider to undertake “a journey toward a way of life very different from my own.” Though the images are drawn entirely from activities taking place in or around the church, they allude to a larger world, a secular reality where poverty, unemployment, discrimination, crime, drug abuse, family disintegration, and hardship have led parishioners back to the church, to haven and shelter, a sacred space where they honor a collective covenant of survival and spirituality.
In the opening essay, Covenant, Sorrow Songs, and Flying Away, poet Yusef Komunyakaa frames the images to follow through the lens of African American history. For him, the idea of a “covenant” embodies the double-edged, double-consciousness of blacks’ relationship with the Christian church, on the one hand holding out the promise of a better life in the hereafter, on the other endorsing acquiescence to captivity and oppression. He evokes the image of the Christian chapel built within Ghana’s Cape Coast Castle, a slave-holding pen for deportees, to bring home the inherent dissonance in this complex association. Komunyakaa evaluates the lyrics of spirituals and poems by Fredrick Douglas, Paul Laurence Dunbar, Jupiter Hammon, James Weldon Johnson, and Robert Hayden, arguing that “sorrow songs” and poetry are essential aspects of religious expression, a historical legacy very much present in contemporary black experience.
Miller’s photographs, though occasionally accompanied by quotes from participants, speak silently for themselves. The establishing shots show: an empty church at night, an inner glow visible through the skylight (Plate 2); a girl in whiteface make-up about to enter the sanctuary for a ceremony (Plate 3); and family of parishioners gazing through the closed glass doors of the church, waiting for services to begin--all emphasizing the separateness of the church from secular life, a ritual space wherein social dramas unfold.
Divided into five sections, the photos reveal various dimensions of the Friendship community. Part I depicts rites of passage--Baptism, marriage, and funerals--life changes sustained through ceremony. Part II contains images of the service, delineating the many forms of worship: song, prayer, giving witness, taking collection, altar call, ushering, being blessed, acting in a Mime Troupe, or even taking pictures (Plate 44 shows a photographer setting up his shot right next to the pulpit, perhaps a reflexive allusion by Miller?). Part III focuses on the preaching of Pastor R.C., Sr., in a series of shots that capture the dynamic arc of his sermon. Part IV treats multiple themes: the generation span of participants, ministry to those in need, relocation to a new building, and departure from church at the conclusion of services. Part V includes a series of portraits, intimate glimpses of the dramatis personae.
Through choices of focal point, light exposure, subject framing, and composition, Miller’s photos reject superficial readings, implying instead a subconscious psychological dimension and lending themselves to multiple interpretations. There are many excellent examples, but a few will suffice to illustrate his subtle handiwork. Because the ambient light in the church is relatively low and uneven, Miller needed relatively slow shutter speeds and/or larger aperture settings for sufficient exposure, adjustments that often create a fairly shallow depth of field and pockets of overexposure in the images. In other words, only certain parts of a picture may be completely in focus, and other parts may wash out in the glare of an overhead light. Miller turns these supposed handicaps to his advantage in various ways. In many of the group scenes, for example, only one or a few of the faces will be sharply defined, calling the viewer’s attention to the experience of that or those particular individual(s). Plate 28 shows a middle-aged man kneeling in prayer with the hazy silhouettes of the preacher, deacons, and members of the congregation in the background; the focal point of this image suggests that one’s relationship with God, though taking place in a communal context, is ultimately a personal one. In Plates 43, 67, and 84, a slow shutter speed blurs the motion of a man’s clapping hands, a parade, and a pair of girls, respectively, emphasizing the action and process inherent in these subjects. Oftentimes the light fixtures in the ceiling of the church are overexposed (e.g., Plates 22-4, 36, 39, 45-51), creating a visual metaphor of and allusion to heavenly light filling the hall. Among the many intriguing compositions are Plates 8 and 57, both images of children crossing paths on a staircase; Plate 16, an empty hearse at the gravesite with an up-angled rear hatch, evoking a soul’s flight to Heaven; Plates 18 and 19, both framed through a slit in the door to the sanctuary, as if peeking in; Plate 56, showing in one room a small child in his father’s lap gazing with rapt attention at his face, while in the adjacent hallway a young boy sneers playfully at the camera, a sharp contrast in youthful compliance/defiance; Plates 61-5, all of a pastor consulting a young woman in convict’s garb, her countenance progressing from despondency to cautious laughter; Plate 81, a close-up of this same woman, unveiling her vulnerability and world weariness; and Plate 71, a telling portrait of two “identical” twins, the one on the left in soft focus, his hands clutched indecisively as he gazes about, while his brother, caught in sharp relief with clenched fists, furled brow, and darker shadows under his eyes, stares boldly at the camera--a modern-day Seth and Enos?
Miller’s sensitive eye and strong empathy for his subject have produced images of power and subtlety, each one a unique visual impression of the religious life of the Friendship community.
--------
[Review length: 1043 words • Review posted on June 5, 2008]