The
congregation of Reverend Elder Bishop Anderson Johnson numbered in the
thousands, but they were virtually all painted by the preacher himself
and most hung by threads from the ceiling instead of sitting in pews.
Surrounded by crime, blight, drugs and wig shops, he lived a
quiet life on Ivy Street in Newport News, VA following a long career of
selfless ministry. I am only now beginning to appreciate, some 15 years
after my first visit, how special was his gift and talent.
Within the
door of his church and home a dark cave of religious passion entirely
of his own making awaited. Completely surrounded by his own paintings
of "followers" he performed on guitar, pedal steel and piano, hidden
within the walls and largely for himself. I was surprised years later
to find he had recorded commercially. Despite many conversations about
his life, service and mission, he never mentioned his gospel steel
guitar recordings made by Henry Stone in Florida in the late 1950's
released on the Glory and Angel Labels. I understand there has been a
resurgence of steel guitar gospel players in Florida since, I suspect
the roots of this movement were planted by Reverend Johnson.
One has recently been posted on YouTube, using one of my photographs, so I am taking the time to repost this entry in Dull Tool Dim Bulb. Reverend Johnson passed
away near poverty, but at least one painting was added to the
Smithsonian American Art Museum in 1998. He once told me, in all
seriousness, the reason he painted so many portraits was that he hoped
to find work as a courtroom artist. The house he transformed was
destroyed by urban renewal (which in this case was needed, believe me)
Portions of the environment also remain in historic preservation museum
projects in Virginia and in private collections. There is a beautiful
essay about his life on the website of the Middle Passage Project run
by the College of William and Mary. Some of Mr. Johnson's recordings
have been reissued, one appears on the Dust-To-Digital "Goodbye, Babylon" box set of 2003
The last surviving member of Michigan's Knapp Family passed away December 7, 2011. Arlene was the bass player. Her obit, and a tribute, is HERE by Laura Misjak in the Lansing State Journal of December 9, 2011. Let's see if this post receives as many comments as my post onRem Wall and the Green Valley Boys, another obscure and deserving Michigan band, which has so far received 29 comments.
Dust to Digital, the Atlanta-based juggernaut label headed by wunderkind Lance Ledbetter continues to continue...and I mean in large southern culture chunks. Just look...FOUR projects now ready for your holiday shopping, and each anxiously awaited here. Yes, there is still Christmas for adults, and this label proves it. Again and again.
Let's face it...you can't open a download Christmas morning. Put your hands on something! At Dust to Digital physical objects of artistic beauty and quality persist...and now is a particularly rich and fertile time to consider their projects. All are affordable and all will be appreciated by anyone you purchase them for. Buy Now. Simple as that. Seriously.
Let Your Feet Do The Talkin’ tells the story of 70-year-old buckdancing legend Thomas Maupin and examines music’s ability to form and to strengthen relationships and to lift us above our circumstances.Baby, How Can It Be? is a three-CD set from the 78 rpm record collection of John Heneghan with liner notes by Nick Tosches and a centerfold illustration by R. Crumb. The discs are organized by theme: Love, Lust and Contempt.The Hurricane that Hit Atlanta is a two-CD collection of archival recordings from Rev. Johnny L. "Hurricane" Jones. Culled from more than 1,000 tapes going back to 1957, every track on this set is available to the public for the very first time. Ten Thousand Points of Light is a documentary film that should be added to everyone's annual holiday playlist. The wry, understated and terrifically funny look at the Townsends, a suburban Atlanta family who, every holiday season for eight years, transformed their Stone Mountain area brick ranch house into a meteoric blaze of Christmas lights is available on DVD for the first time.
The congregation of Reverend Elder Bishop Anderson Johnson numbered in the thousands, but they were virtually all painted by the preacher himself and most hung by threads from the ceiling instead of sitting in pews. Surrounded by crime, blight, drugs and wig shops, he appeared to lead a quiet life on Ivy Street in Newport News, VA following a long career of selfless ministry. I am only now beginning to appreciate, some 15 years after my first visit, how special was his gift and talent. Within the door of his church and home a dark cave of religious passion entirely of his own making awaited. Completely surrounded by his own paintings of "followers" he performed on guitar, pedal steel and piano, hidden within the walls and largely for himself. I was surprised years later to find he had recorded commercially. Despite many conversations about his life, service and mission, he never mentioned his gospel steel guitar recordings made by Henry Stone in Florida in the late 1950's released on the Glory and Angel Labels. I understand there has been a resurgence of steel guitar gospel players in Florida since, I suspect the roots of this movement were planted by Reverend Johnson. He passed away near poverty, but at least one painting was added to the Smithsonian American Art Museum in 1998. He once told me, in all seriousness, the reason he painted so many portraits was that he hoped to find work as a courtroom artist. The house he transformed was destroyed by urban renewal (which in this case was needed, believe me) Portions of the environment also remain in historic preservation museum projects in Virginia and in private collections. There is a beautiful essay about his life on the website of the Middle Passage Project run by the College of William and Mary. Some of Mr. Johnson's recordings have been reissued, one appears on the Dust-To-Digital "Goodbye, Babylon" box set of 2003
Original 35mm photographs 1993-1995 collection Jim Linderman
