Holding Space for Grief, Art, and Connection.
Updated: Aug 19
Over the past weekend, Studio Kroner was transformed.
The gallery was filled with nearly 100 works of art created by children and young people who have participated in Fernside, Cincinnati’s center for grieving children. The exhibition was part of Fernside’s 40th anniversary celebration, and I was honored when Beverly Thomas and Roy Robbins, whose generous sponsorship made the weekend possible, approached me months ago about hosting it at Studio Kroner.
The work took many forms—drawings, shadow boxes, clay pieces, graffiti boards, memory stars, mandalas and cracked pots. Across them were worries, memories, hopes, fears and messages to people who were no longer here.
Individually, they were moving. Together, they filled the gallery with something much larger.
Giving Grief a Voice
The weekend began Friday evening with a celebration of Fernside and the people who have sustained its work over four decades. On Saturday, we heard directly from children and adults whose lives had been touched by the organization.
There were stories of fathers, grandparents, uncles and other loved ones who had died. Some speakers had gone through Fernside many years earlier and returned to talk about what the experience had meant to them. One young woman who came to Fernside after losing her father is now a counselor there herself.
One moment in particular has stayed with me.
A young woman tried several times to speak about the uncle she had lost and the artwork and letters she had created for him. Each time, her grief overwhelmed her. Sally, one of Fernside’s counselors, stood beside her, gently helping her find her way through it.
Then, in the middle of all that emotion, the girl looked at Sally and said, “You’ve got lipstick on your teeth.”
The room erupted in laughter.
For a moment, grief and humor, sadness and joy, vulnerability and connection all occupied exactly the same space.
What Art Can Hold
That moment has stayed with me because it seemed to capture so much of what the weekend was about—the willingness to be vulnerable, the comfort of being understood, and the unexpected ways sadness and joy can exist alongside one another.
It also reminded me of something I believe deeply about art. Art can be beautiful, but it can also give expression to things that are difficult to put into words. It can take something intensely personal—a memory, a loss, a fear, a hope—and make it visible to someone else. To me, that ability to communicate something of ourselves is one of art’s highest callings.
We experience grief, love, fear, happiness, loneliness and loss in deeply personal ways, yet those emotions are also universal. When someone finds the courage to express what they are feeling—through a painting, a poem, a sculpture, a letter, or simply by telling their story—it can create a connection with someone who recognizes something of their own experience in it.
That was happening throughout the weekend. The art gave these young people a way to express something deeply personal, and by sharing it, they allowed the rest of us to understand, connect and perhaps see something of ourselves in their experiences.
Art does not have to solve grief. Sometimes it can simply give grief somewhere to go.
Ending with Joy
On Sunday, Cincinnati artist Cedric Michael Cox brought a very different energy into the gallery. Cedric, who has exhibited at Studio Kroner and has worked extensively with young people throughout the region, led an art workshop for more than 20 children and adults.
With small canvases, paint and brushes, everyone participated in an exercise Cedric called Know Your Name. The room was suddenly filled with color, spontaneity and laughter.
Cedric has an infectious generosity, and it was wonderful watching him move among the children—talking with them about their paintings, pointing out what they were doing well and encouraging them to keep creating.
It felt like exactly the right way to end the weekend.
Friday celebrated Fernside’s 40 years. Saturday gave voice to grief, memory and vulnerability. And Sunday reminded us that grief can co-exist with creativity and joy.
Grateful to Have Been Part of It
I am grateful to Beverly and Roy for trusting Studio Kroner with this exhibition and for everything they did to make the weekend possible. I’m also grateful to my partner, Elaine, who has worked with Fernside on its graphic design and branding for much of the organization’s history, and to the entire Fernside team for the care they brought to every part of the weekend.
Most of all, I am grateful to the children, young people and adults who allowed us into something so personal.
Of all the things that have happened within these walls, this felt important. I am humbled that Studio Kroner was able to hold space for it. — Paul Kroner
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