Hi, it’s Brooke again! This is likely my last blog post for CAL, as I’m graduating from high school. So, one last time, I’d like to share my thoughts on our current show, Inheritance.
More than most 18-year-olds, I’m very aware of my ancestors. I probably know more about my family’s history than most people my age. That’s why I love Inheritance—it allows me to see how my experience connects with those in my community. Even if our specific histories are different, the way we engage with our pasts can unite us.
The first piece that stood out to me was Lisa Bartlett’s Long Voyage. It’s a large mixed media canvas that incorporates collage, photography, text, and paint. At its center are two prominent figures—a man and a woman—though many other faces appear within the photographs. Dressed in coats and hats, the main figures clearly appear to be on the move—travelers, without a doubt. An abstracted American flag in the upper left corner suggests they may be immigrants, with the “long voyage” symbolizing the journey of leaving home behind. The collage is at times messy, and the figures look tired, like they’ve been standing for hours. It makes me think of the physically and emotionally exhausting process of migration. I appreciate the rawness of this piece; I can almost imagine the figures breathing heavily, longing for rest. In many ways, our inheritance is the hard work and sacrifices of our ancestors—the long days they endured so that we could live even longer ones.
If one piece reminds me most of my heritage, it would have to be Grandma in Armchair by Hannah Reeves. Though my grandma rarely sits in an armchair, the colors, delicacy, and subtlety of this piece resonate deeply with me. When you first see it in person, especially from a distance, it doesn’t seem to depict anything specific. But the closer you get, the more you begin to notice the quiet presence of the grandmother. To me, this is a perfect exploration of inheritance. Often, our history hums quietly in the background while we focus on other things. To truly appreciate the intricacy and sentiment of our ancestors, we have to walk a little closer—maybe even lean in—to examine what’s really there. Grandma in Armchair rewards viewers for their attention, much like genealogy can do for those who take the time to explore it. The muted orange and burgundy set against the saturated yellow evoke the fading feeling of things that now live only in memory. The blurry composition stirs all the murky emotions that still cling to old memories—complex, tender, and hard to define.
The most emotional piece in the gallery—at least for me—was the work by Gennie Pfannenstiel, specifically Prairie Origins and My Daimon. It’s hard to separate the two; her work feels like one cohesive mixed-media experience—an experience I felt lucky to have. The installation includes two 2-D pieces, a 3-D sculpture, and an accompanying audio component. I’ll admit I put on the headphones with a bit of skepticism, but after giving her work my time and full attention, I was completely devastated by the time the recording ended. I found myself wishing it could play just a little longer. I don’t want to give too much away (no spoilers, of course), but I will say this: the nuance and care Pfannenstiel pours into her art is extraordinary. I felt fully immersed in her stories—the moments she recalled, the emotions she shared—all of it felt incredibly real and present. Her vulnerability was unlike anything I’ve encountered in months. It was raw, intimate, and deeply human.
I’m so grateful to have had the chance to look through the keyhole of art into someone else’s inheritance. What’s incredible about this show is that I can almost guarantee you’ll come away having learned something about the legacy of others, about resilience, about what’s passed down through generations. Each piece carries its weight: the good, the bad, the heavy, and the light. I’m deeply thankful to CAL for being such an important part of my life—this experience has become a new set of memories I’ll carry with me into the future. I hope many of you have been lucky enough to inherit some of the same energy and vibrancy that I’ve been so fortunate to receive.
So long for now!
-Brooke the Intern
