The past comes alive at St. Eddie Owens Martin’s Pasaquan

Folk art compound in Central Georgia celebrates grand reopening after two years of extensive restoration

Photo credit:

At some point over the last 20 years, Atlanta residents and visitors may have noticed a collection of vibrant totems, mandalas, and wall art Downtown at the corner of Courtland Street and Ralph McGill Boulevard. Few, however, may recognize this work, created by Pat Connell and a team, as homage to eccentric self-taught artist Eddie Owens Martin.


Georgian by birth, Martin relocated from rural Marion County to New York City in the 1920s. “St. EOM,” as he was widely known, immersed himself in the city’s wild, storied art scene, reading fortunes and adopting a colorful, flamboyant style of dress. Martin returned to Buena Vista about 30 years later, and while his time in New York had come to an end, his life as a legendary outsider artist was just getting started.
No value assigned

From the late 1950s until his death in 1986, Martin worked to create his own wonderland in Central Georgia, which he christened “Pasaquan.” He claimed the word came to him in a communication from the spirit world requesting he establish a safe place for the past, the present, and the future to peacefully coexist.As the founder of Pasaquan, St. EOM would naturally become a Pasaquoyan, similar to those figures who came to him in visions. This mythical tribe may be seen in his work around the seven-acre compound, which boasts ornately painted statues, walls, totems, a pagoda, a partially subterranean kiva (dark chamber intended to be used for religious rituals), a sand/dance pit, and the most beautiful shed in Central Georgia.Inspired by a mixture of Mayan, Egyptian, and various styles of Asian art and imagery, St. EOM decorated the landscape at Pasaquan with columns featuring wide-eyed smiling faces as well as walls and staircases adorned with flailing dancers and hypnotic designs. Tangerine orange, ruby red, bumble-bee yellow, and so many other electric colors once exploded from the art around his complex. But thanks to deterioration and wear, once-dynamic hues started to fade. A massive restoration became a necessity.“When I came here, it was falling apart,” Charles Fowler, Pasaquan Caretaker and former Restoration Intern, says. “The color palette was pretty much gray. Paint was sun-bleached, chipping off at an alarming rate.”During the last two years, The Kohler Foundation, a group that supports the arts and art preservation, has been funding intensive efforts at Pasaquan. According to the foundation’s website, the project was one of the largest and most complex it’s ever tackled. National experts partnered with local crews and students from Columbus State University, which has been gifted Pasaquan, to repair structural damage caused by termites, reproduce intricate patterns, and paint. The foundation called it “painstaking work, much done in the heat of summer under canvas tenting to provide needed shade.”


The finished result is finally ready to be unveiled to the public. On Oct. 22, the colorful compound will be the site of a grand reopening party featuring music, dance, and exhibits of Martin’s artwork and life.
No value assigned

Now, Fowler says, Pasaquan is “like a beautiful rainbow.”Georgian Folklorist Fred Fussell, a friend of St. EOM who was around Buena Vista during Pasaquan’s construction in the 1970s and ’80s, echoes Fowler’s satisfaction with the wonderland’s rebirth. “Pasaquan never looked as good in the past as it does right now, not even when EOM was alive and working on the place on a regular basis,” Fussell tells CL via email. “He created Pasaquan over a 30-year period, one section at a time. While he was building a newer section, the older sections were being subjected to the effects of weather and time.”Katherine Jentleson, the Merrie and Dan Boone Curator of Folk and Self-Taught Art at the High Museum, which has several pieces of Martin’s work, recently visited the site after the restoration work was completed. She had seen photos of the arts compound, both before and after the restoration, and was prepared for “the onslaught of color and pattern, but seeing it on paper is totally different than experiencing it in person, which is why it is so important that it continue to exist as a site and not just in documentation.”“I have never experienced anything like Pasaquan before,” she says. “You literally enter another world, which was St. EOM’s intent, feelings its vibrations and discovering its details, from the many faces that emerge from the totemic columns, to the snakes that slither over the cement walls, to the bewitching mandalas that have the power to carry you away if you stare long enough. It all stays with you long after you leave.”At a recent tour of the site, Pasaquan Director Michael McFalls talked about the process of three separate restoration teams — object conservation and reconstruction, general construction, and paint — and specifically the vulnerability of the original paint.“I found out talking with John Salhus, a conservator from Parma, that St. EOM would occasionally use dispersion pigments without binding agents,” McFalls says. “We suspect that perhaps he was using them to produce very intense hues.”McFalls shared some local St. EOM lore during CL’s recent visit. One of his stories details the artist’s recurring trips to the local hardware store, during which he would load up a station wagon with his cats for the six-mile drive into town. Upon arriving, wearing his full regalia — including a brightly colored robe, jewelry, and either a headdress or a turban — St. EOM would allegedly let all the cats out, then after picking up the paint, a whistle would entice all the cats to jump back in for the trip back to Pasaquan.“Eddie Martin was truly local,” Columbus State University Professor Cathy Fussell, a Buena Vista native and wife of Fred Fussell, writes via email. “In other words, he was weird, but he was our weird. He was respected — by the merchants in town, for sure. He was a good customer!”Clements Hardware store starts a new a significant role in the reopening event, but this time in its current iteration as an event space called Fox Hall. Big Bill Morganfield, son of Muddy Waters, is scheduled to blues up the joint after festivities at Pasaquan conclude. On the grounds during the reopening event, visitors can take tours of the complex and the main house, with exhibits of St. EOM’s drawings, paintings, handmade clothing, jewelry, and furniture. Guests will also have the opportunity to enjoy a roving dance performance from gloATL as well as live avant-rock jams from Col. Bruce Hampton and the Aquarium Rescue Unit.
No value assigned





Everyone at the compound seems genuinely excited to see Pasaquan restored with color and life. The alluring eyes on the side of the kiva building recall a reminder of the rumors of Pasaquan being graced by the ghost of its creator and former resident. If St. EOM’s spirit is around on reopening day, he should be proud of how his creation has not only survived, but flourished.

Pasaquan grand reopening. Free. 10 a.m.-6 p.m. Sat., Oct. 22. Pasaquan, 238 Eddie Martin Road, Buena Vista. 229-649-9444. art.columbusstate.edu/pasaquan.php.