Fall 2025-Spring/Summer 2026

“Momma Loves Jazz” and “Welcome to the Mothership: They Gather in Their Names”

WHAT: “Momma Loves Jazz” and “Welcome to the Mothership: We Gather in Their Names”

WHEN: June 7-July 26, 2025

Opening Reception: Saturday, June 7, 2-5 p.m.

The paired exhibitions feature artists Carla Sue Lyles and Jakayla Monay, respectively. Artist Stacey Allen, director of artistic programs for the Anderson Center for the Arts, who curated the exhibition, sees both of these works through the lens of non-linear time.

“As Black mother artists, we’re constantly negotiating what to hold on to and what to let go,” Allen explained.

“Jakayla’s imagined future and Carla’s reflections on the past speak to one another in ways that remind us that healing isn’t separate from dreaming.  They are part of the same process,” Allen said.

“Monay builds a world full of possibility. I see Jakayla and her work as the future.  Her artistic voice provides visual storytelling that creates a realm with Afro futuristic leanings, but with comfort and familiarity, reminding us of the beauty of who we are, as is.

“Carla Sue’s work is deeply personal and grounded in healing. This work also serves as an archive of Southern Black culture and how expressive and material culture shapes our lives,” Allen continues.

Monay, a visual artist who focuses on photography and film, explores Black life, highlighting moments that often go unnoticed.

“I’m interested in what comes after pain and sorrow,” she said, “the quiet recoveries and everyday joys that help us keep going. Through my images, I touch on memory, love and how we find our footing again.”

Lyles describes her work as exploring the intersection of healing, memory and matriarchal legacy through layered storytelling.  As a self-taught artist and designer, she leans into fabric, sound and archival materials to create pieces that honor Black womanhood, resilience and the sacred act of remembering.

“Whether through stitched words, vinyl records or collaged photographs, each work is a form of reverence—toward my lineage, toward softness and toward the radical of healing in public,” she explained.

“I believe that art should feel like an embrace—personal yet collective, grounded yet expansive.”