Palimpsest

What is a Palimpsest? (And Why It Defines Cheryl Johnson’s Art)

In the world of contemporary art, certain words unlock deeper ways of seeing. One of the most potent terms for understanding complex abstract painting is palimpsest.

But what does it mean, and why is it the perfect lens through which to view the work of abstract expressionist Cheryl Johnson?

Defining the Palimpsest

Historically, a palimpsest was a piece of parchment made from animal hide that had been scraped clean of its original writing so it could be reused. Yet, the scraping was rarely perfect. Traces of the original text—the "ghosts" of previous words—remained visible beneath the new layer.

In art, palimpsest has become a powerful metaphor for a work that contains many layers of history. It describes a surface where the "ghosts" of previous marks, revisions, and erasures are still visible, vibrating beneath the final image. It is a visual archive of time and memory.

A Stratified Chronicle

For Charlotte-based artist Cheryl Johnson, palimpsest is not just a theory; it is her physical reality.

Johnson’s paintings are not single images executed in a moment. They are stratified chronicles built over months or even years. Her process involves applying thick layers of oil, acrylic, pumice, and mixed media, only to ruthlessly scrape them back with a spatula. She then rebuilds, flicks paint onto the surface, and scrapes again.

Through this rigorous accumulation and decisive erasure, Johnson constructs a complex topography of the subconscious. Each canvas becomes an archaeological site of emotion. The final painting is a dense materiality that acts as a container for the history of its own making.

The Ghost in the Layers

Why work this way? Because for Johnson, the truth lies in what is half-hidden.

The palimpsest technique allows her to capture what she calls the "gulf of formless feelings"—those psychological states that are too complex for a single, flat image. By burying and excavating her marks, she creates a dynamic visual field where figures hover on the threshold of visibility.

When you look closely at a Johnson painting, you are seeing the residue of time. You are seeing what she describes as the "translucent beings" lurking just below the surface:

“The figures in my paintings are like ghosts, translucent beings, not solid humans. They are possibilities, not conclusions; they are forever in transition, but not in a hurry to become someone.”

A palimpsest does not offer easy answers. It offers depth. In Cheryl Johnson’s work, the layered surface challenges us to look through the chaos of the immediate to find the silence—and the history—within.