Doc : Doc — Marie T. Cochran on Teaching, Exhibiting and the Resonance of Documentary Art

Marie T. Cochran reflects on the power of documentary art to reclaim erased histories and cultivate cross-cultural connection.

This fall Marie T. Cochran presented her exhibition Those We Thought We Knew: Reimagined at CDS and launched a CDS Continuing Education course, Southern Sites and Contested Meaning. A leader in the Affrilachian movement, Cochran brings a powerful lens to place, memory and meaning — whether in the classroom or the gallery.

Rooted in the layered histories of Appalachia, her mixed media exhibition reimagines the narrative of David Joy’s novel Those We Thought We Knew through a visual language that foregrounds the African American experience in the region. 

We sat down with Cochran to talk about her exhibition, what it means to be a “cultural pollinator,” and how documentary art can evoke memory, mystery and resonance. This conversation is part of Doc: Doc, a new interview series from CDS where we talk shop with documentary artists and explore the evolving field of nonfiction storytelling. 

CDS: You call yourself a “cultural pollinator,” which I love. Where did that term come from?

Marie T. Cochran: It comes from Malcolm Gladwell. I keep making these connections between people, and I seek out opportunities as much as I possibly can to fortify those. To me, that keeps this cross-cultural motivation going. We don’t just use the same sources over and over again. 

And when we talk about Appalachia, we very often compartmentalize and don't talk about the Cherokee. But all these different people are part of the story. 

CDS: Your exhibition is inspired by David Joy’s novel Those We Thought We Knew, which is dedicated to you. How did that collaboration come about?

Cochran: David was a student at Western Carolina University when I was on faculty. He saw an early piece I created about the Mount Zion African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church and its removal from campus — a story that had been largely untold. That stayed with him, and a decade later, he wrote the novel as a way to bring that history to light. The exhibition responds to the novel, but also to the real people and places it’s grounded in.

CDS: The story of the Mount Zion AME Zion Church is central to both the novel and your film Testify, Beyond Place in your exhibition. Can you share more about that history?

Cochran: According to the official University account, in 1892, Thomas and Lena Davis sold a half-acre of land to a group of descendants of enslaved people in western North Carolina. The Western Carolina University campus expanded in the early 20th century, and the college purchased the land and paid the congregants to relocate 72 graves. After three years of negotiations, the final settlement between the college and church took place in 1929. The university paid $1,000, with $10 per grave and the remainder upon completion. The dormitory was built in 1931. After several challenging years, the congregants rebuilt the sanctuary and relocated their graves across the street on Old Cullowhee Road. It’s a powerful story of displacement and resilience.

CDS: During your gallery talk at the opening reception, you said Black Appalachian history has been overlooked. What does that mean for your work?

Cochran: Very often when people talk about Black Appalachia, they say it’s an invisible history. Well, it’s not invisible. It’s been either overlooked or erased. So what do we do with that now? 

It’s not just to feel horrified by the fact that it happened. But what do we do about that now in terms of the way that we’re erasing and not acknowledging history? People say, “Well, it’s still there, people can go and learn for themselves.” But that’s not enough. All these different ways of knowing and lived experiences need to be shared. 

As much as you possibly can, when you’re involved in any kind of conversation, just ask yourself: What could be missing? Who’s missing? What other experiences do I need to know about?
 

CDS: You’ve said you moved away from technology in this show. Why?

Cochran: I decided to completely ditch the grand plan I had of VR and high tech and just bring it back to the simple images related to the story of Mount Zion AME Zion Church, the Black Appalachian experience, and objects like the banjo, like the gourds. Banjos were originally made from gourds, which grow from the earth and symbolize life, grounding. Here I allow them to ascend. These elements connect us to the Black Appalachian experience in a visceral way. 

I wanted these real, visceral things to resonate on their own. I brought a banjo that I own that has a history. The overturned chair is a small child’s chair, but it looks like it’s been scorched in a fire with a phonetic spelling of the word daughter inscribed. There’s actual hair, Cherokee syllabary — all these different things that have a place and a presence outside of this gallery, but bring that resonance that things have, carry with them.

So, thinking about the Qualla Boundary, I created these wall banners that combine Native American and African text. I wanted to evoke a sense of mystery and complexity and honor the layered histories of the region.

CDS: How should viewers go about experiencing your exhibition?

Cochran: There are systematic ways you can approach visual art. I call it Introduction to Visual Inquiry — because objects and photographs hold meaning. That’s exciting to me. 

I’ve used a lot of text in the past, like Jenny Holzer and other artists from the 1980s. But I like the idea of creating mysteries. A lot of my work has been driven by a strong sense of confronting or seeking social justice. But I also love poetry. I love the word “evocative.” I love “ethereal.” There’s something that touches your instinct or triggers a thought or a sensation or a memory. 

I like the idea of you really playing with the images and objects based on how you encounter them and asking, “What does this mean to me?” Not thinking about, “What does the artist want me to get from it?”

CDS: What’s next?

Cochran: As part of a series on Black Appalachia, the exhibition will be on view at Bucknell University’s Samek Art Museum November 1, 2025 through February 8, 2026. I’m using the same concept, but it takes on a completely different format in a storefront gallery environment.

And I’m really excited about the class I’m teaching through CDS. It’s virtual, so people can join from anywhere, which I love. We’re looking at how places — especially in the American South — carry meaning, and how that meaning is shaped by race, class and memory. We’re exploring public art and cultural sites. I want students to think critically about what stories are being told, and which ones are being left out — and then respond creatively. The final project is a chance for each person to make something of their own, whether it’s visual, written, or documentary-based.