Imagining What Comes Next: A Conversation with Morgan Overton

1. Your work often explores ancestral memory, identity, and imagined futures. What first drew you toward these themes?

Before becoming a full-time artist, I spent years working in politics and social movements. From 2022-2024, I was the first Black woman elected Vice Chair of the Allegheny County Democratic

Party, and much of my professional life was spent thinking about how systems function, who they serve, and where they fail.

Over time, I found myself asking deeper questions about people beyond the policies and institutions that shape their lives. As a Black woman, I’ve always been aware of how often our communities are

asked to organize, advocate, endure, and overcome, while our human lives remain largely invisible. When I stepped away from politics, I also turned inward. I wanted to explore the emotional, spiritual, and human dimensions of Black life that often exist outside of public discourse, and my artwork became a way of honoring that. Through ancestral memory and Afrofuturism, I create images that

center Black people in moments of reflection, peace, curiosity, and possibility.

2. How has growing up in Pittsburgh influenced the way you see community, history, and representation in your work?

Growing up in Pittsburgh has deeply influenced the way I think about history, community, and representation because it is a city full of contradictions. It is a place with an incredibly rich Black

history—one that helped shape culture, politics, labor movements, jazz, sports, and civil rights in ways that extend far beyond Western Pennsylvania. At the same time, it is a city that continues to

grapple with persistent inequities and difficult questions about who benefits from progress. Much of my professional career was dedicated to addressing issues such as Black maternal health, economic opportunity, public safety, and civic engagement. Through that work, I gained a firsthand understanding of how systems impact people’s lives and how difficult meaningful change can be. Those experiences continue to inform the way I approach my artwork. Pittsburgh is still finding its voice as a city, and I believe it is imperative that it continues to put the microphone in front of the people and communities who helped build it before those stories are lost.

3. Your work balances beauty with powerful social commentary. How do you navigate that relationship as an artist?

My background in psychology, social work, and political leadership taught me that systems shape how people see themselves and how others see them. For generations, Black people have often been represented through deficit-based narratives that focus on hardship while overlooking complexity, joy, and humanity. In my work, depicting a Black figure in contemplation, rest, wonder, or peace can be a radical act when those experiences are so often absent from dominant imagery. I want viewers to encounter Black humanity without it needing to be justified by struggle.

4. You’ve spoken about reclaiming narratives through art. What narratives do you feel still need to be reclaimed today?

I think we still need to reclaim narratives that allow Black people to exist beyond service, struggle, and survival. So much is expected of Black communities politically, socially, and culturally, yet we’re

rarely afforded the same space to be seen as fully human.

I’m interested in reclaiming the right to complexity. The right to rest. The right to imagine. The right to be uncertain, joyful, contemplative, creative, and ordinary.

5. What role do you believe artists play during moments of cultural reflection, like Philadelphia’s 250th anniversary?

I think this anniversary invites us to be bold. It asks us to consider this nation as a work in progress and that we have the power to actively create its ongoing promise of Democracy. Art can help us

envision possibilities beyond our current reality and challenge us to move closer to the ideals we claim to value.

6. Much of your work feels rooted in both history and futurism at the same time. Why is it important for you to imagine futures within your work and not only reflect on the past?

For me, history and futurism are inseparable. If I only focus on the past, I risk treating Black people as subjects of history rather than active participants in the future. Imagining futures allows me to

honor what came before while also asking what liberation, belonging, and self-determination could look like generations from now.

7. Your pieces often feel emotionally layered and deeply human. What conversations or emotions do you hope viewers leave with after experiencing your work in person?

I hope viewers leave feeling connected to themselves, to their ancestors, and to one another. I want the work to create a moment of pause in a world that moves very quickly. If someone leaves feeling

curious, reflective, their nervous system comforted, or inspired to think differently in honor of humanity, then the work has done its job.

8. As a multidisciplinary artist, how do different materials and mediums help you tell stories differently?

Each material carries its own language. Graphite allows me to focus on humanity and presence through portraiture. Watercolor introduces atmosphere, emotion, and a sense of the ethereal. Cyanotype connects naturally to archives, memory, and time because of its photographic history. When combined, these materials create complexity of the personal, historical, and imagined all at

once.

9. What does resilience mean to you personally, and how has that concept shaped your artistic journey?

Simply put, resilience to me is the ability to continue imagining, creating, and finding meaning despite uncertainty. Throughout my career, I’ve experienced moments that required me to adapt and reinvent myself. Art has been both an anchor and a guide through those transitions.

10. In a time where so much culture is consumed quickly online, what do you think people gain from experiencing artwork in person within a gallery space?

There’s a physical and emotional presence that can’t be fully translated through a screen. In person, viewers experience scale, texture, detail, and the space to feel what is naturally evoked around a

work. Galleries create opportunities for reflection and connection that are increasingly rare. I think people are hungry for those slower, more meaningful experiences, and art can offer them.

Shop Morgan's Collection