The assemblage sculptures by Lonnie Holley that are brought into museums, galleries, and private collections are always just small parts of a greater whole. Only by visiting the artist’s outdoor, public art environment—his Alabama yard—can one fully appreciate his intentions. That is not to say that singular objects cannot stand on their own, as this elegant piece does. Its composure and restraint—and for Holley’s aesthetic, its austerity—are notable. In addition to being a sculptor, Holley is a father, a community leader, and a poet, though his poetry is not realized in words but in found objects. All his work comes back to two goals: tending to human relationships and taking care of nature. He acts to achieve these ends by rescuing nature from the encroaching junk of contemporary America and recycling it into a comprehensible art project on his property.

The Ancestor Throne is made of found objects that are tied to the seat of a throne, including a block of carved industrial sandstone and two carved wooden elements. The artist admires the many thrones from various African cultures that incorporate animal and human figures, and he emulates this tradition in his sculpture with the split head at the base. The “crack” in the title of this refers to the crack, or crease, in the wooden visage and also, according to the artist, to crack cocaine. He interprets the faces at the top as male/female and as an ancestor in profile with radiating hair. As to the medium of sandstone, Holley has said that it is fragile, just as each of us is fragile, and we must sit on the throne of ancestors and look to them for support of our delicate souls. “Let us not only become the throne keepers but let us seek the throne.” The artist preaches and implores us to live honorable, healthy lives without drugs so that we may deserve to commune with our ancestors.

Holley is one of the more inquisitive artists of our time. He pushes us toward clarity and understanding, but no more so than he challenges himself to do the same. He appreciates that worthwhile goals are usually achieved only through struggle. Ever the lyricist, Holley once said about a recent challenge in his life: “It will add feathers in my wings. . . . I’m growing. . . . I’m going.”

Brooke Davis Anderson, "The Ancestor Throne Not Strong Enough for No Rock nor No Crack," in Stacy C. Hollander, American Anthem: Masterworks from the American Folk Art Museum (New York: Harry N. Abrams in association with American Folk Art Museum, 2001), 402.