This morning I had a dream about two wonderfully portly smiling charcoal-skinned angels. Now I know how the brain can pull together all sorts of images and concepts in an attempt to help one stay in bed. I had already hit the alarm twice. My brain was working overtime to keep me settled in the warmth. You see, I do have a dark angel in the house — a holiday ornament of a little brown girl with close cropped hair. For days I had been humming that song by Radiohead about black eyed angels swimming with me. And yesterday a certain painter hinted that he was feeling inspired by William Blake. So, of course, I had pulled up William Blake images to view his vision of humanity in all its earthy, robust glory. So why wouldn’t I dream of black-eyed, dark-skinned angels smiling at me? Later I decided to take a break in my day and google such a scene. Imagine my surprise at what I found.
In the late 1890s, photographer George N. Barnard had photographed the daily life of South Carolina’s denizens in all their various shades. In an ode to Raphael’s angels, he had two young African American boys pose with pondering expressions upon their faces. Eventually he (or someone else?) placed wings upon their backs to complete the scene.
I’ve already tracked down a biography about Mr. Barnard, a famed American Civil War photographer. I’m looking forward to learning more about him, and of the story behind this photograph of the South Carolina Cherubs. But if you already know the story, please share.
Words + Images 