Identity and Imagination in Nancy Elizabeth Prophet Museum (2 Points) - Tori Graham

Two weeks ago, I visited the Nancy Elizabeth Prophet Museum to complete a reflection for my African Diaspora of the World class, but my experience was much more significant than simply turning in an assignment. 

When I stood in front of Nancy Elizabeth Prophet’s work, rather her sending a specific message, I felt like she was asking her audience questions about identity, survival, and imagination.

The first piece I studied is this surreal cityscape. At first glance, it looked almost ordinary, with a tall red-brick tower and windows stacked one above the other. But then I noticed the top: instead of a roof, it appeared to me that a dog’s head peering out, almost like a guardian. Behind it, this huge white spiral shape rises into the sky. I wondered if it was a monument, a cloud, or even something as silly as an ice cream cone.  I was never really sure, and I think that is Prophet’s intention. The familiar and the strange collide here. The painting feels playful but also questions the realities on display. I think Prophet is showing us a world where the ordinary city is unsettled. The dog head feels protective, a reminder of watchfulness in a world that was never neutral to her.

That makes me think about Prophet’s own life. She was trained in the traditional arts, but her career was anything but traditional. As an Afro-Indigenous woman in the early 1900s, the racist and sexist boundaries people tried to place on her served as constant disruptions.  Yet, through her art, she created a world where the expected and the unexpected sit together, and resilience and imagination refuse to be separated.

The second piece I examined is just as layered. Prophet carves a woman with calm and steady features, almost serene. Next to her, two lilies bloom upward, which are symbols of beauty and growth. However, the unsettling dark figure sitting above her head creates a stark contrast. I see themes of beauty and menace, calm and fear, hope and struggle. Again, I think of Prophet herself. She knew what it was to carry both: to be blooming as an artist but also fighting for recognition and survival. I think the fact that the woman’s gaze remains unwavering reflects how Prophet stood her artistic ground. 

Prophet once wrote in her diary, “I will not bend an inch.”, and that’s exactly what I hear in these works. One speaks through surreal imagination, the other through quiet but steady strength. Together, they remind me of her legacy.