The Black ShapeThe murders at Taliesin Aisha Sabatini Sloan (bio) In a youtube tour of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Wisconsin home Taliesin, pronounced “Tally-ESS-in,” a guide named Keiran Murphy explains that the architect “broke the box of architecture” when he built the estate. As she makes her way to the porte-cochère, the revamped carport, I am disturbed by the sight of a black shape slumped in a chair. The chair has been taped off—it’s clear no one is allowed to sit there. [End Page 55] After watching the scene several times to wonder at the shape—a stuffed animal, maybe, or a discarded sweatshirt—I decide that it is probably a fur. But it has the vibe of a ghost, of the shadow of history—the slumped, deflated haint of America’s past. Especially when you consider what Keiran Murphy has not said about the house over the course of this tour. The author William R. Drennan describes Taliesin’s loggia as “a stunning place, bordered on one side by a massive flower garden in full bloom and anchored at one end by a bubbling fountain and at the other by a stand of fine oaks.” On August 15, 1914, a Black servant named Julian Carlton chased a young white girl named Martha across the loggia and cleaved her skull with a hatchet. Julian Carlton also killed the little girl’s brother and her mother, Mamah, who was Frank Lloyd Wright’s mistress, in addition to several men who worked on the property. Witnesses say that one of these men, Emil Brodelle, had recently called Carlton “a Black son of a bitch.” Wright was out of town at the time of the massacre. After attacking several people with his hatchet, Carlton poured gasoline on the floor, put a match to the cascading sheet of it, and set the property on fire. i only know about all this because I have been looking at the paintings of Kerry James Marshall, in search of prisms. I have been thinking about the craft of writing while Black, and want to find a way to describe the impulse I have to refract—deflect?—(white) readers at the same time that I am trying to invite them in. Kerry James Marshall’s work has this quality about it. It both invites and deflects. In search of literal prisms in his work, I reacquaint myself with a favorite of his paintings, 7am Sunday Morning. It’s an ordinary street scene involving, on the right-hand side, a giant blue hexa-gram, five small black hexagrams, diamonds of foggy light, an orange hexagram, and a faint yellow one—it’s like a soap bubble has floated past your eye, exploding half of the painting into shards of light. [End Page 56] I encounter his painting The Actor Hezekiah Washington as Julian Carlton Taliesin Murderer of Frank Lloyd Wright Family. This painting is a prism of sorts. In the only existing photograph of Julian Carlton, who may have been from Barbados, or perhaps from Alabama, a young-seeming Black man in a collared shirt looks down and to the left of the frame. Instead of painting Julian Carlton, Kerry James Marshall invents a fictional actor to play the historical figure. This man, with light reflecting like two stars on either side of his coal-black forehead, looks down and to the left. He looks to the extreme left, not afraid to lean into the role. We are asked to project things on top of the figure, and inside the figure—stories, unseen others. online, i find three men named Hezekiah Washington, all of them Black. One is a recently deceased man from Charleston, South Carolina. His beautiful big eyes gaze straight into the camera. The image of him, like that of Julian Carlton, is small and a bit blurred. Another Hezekiah Washington is a high school basketball player, No. 22 on a team in Wichita, Kansas; I watch him for a while as he runs up and down the court in his video highlight reel. The third is a twenty-one-year-old actor from San Antonio, Texas. He has...
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