For decades, Prince George’s County has been recognized as a hub of Black affluence, representing one of the oldest and largest culminations of Black wealth in the state of Maryland and in the country. Still, depictions of American leisure activities like horse riding often refute Black experience within those histories. The history of African Americans and horses in Maryland is typically associated with horse grooms or famous jockeys like Baltimore-born champion George Anderson, the first African American to win the Preakness in 1889, or arabbers in the city selling fruit from horse-drawn wagons. It is rarer to see references to Black experience with horses in the context of landowners with intergenerational wealth who ride for leisure on their own estates rather than for sport or others’ entertainment.
“What We Do, We’ve Always Done,” the latest exhibition by emerging artist Bria Edwards, now on view at the Julio Fine Arts Gallery at Loyola University, chronicles the intergenerational practice of Black equestrians in the region. Curated by Dr. Lauren P. Davidson, the exhibit features a collection of new exultant figurative paintings inspired by hundreds of photographs and dozens of interviews by Edwards documenting Black equestrians.
“I didn’t know much about the history of the horsemanship in the area,” Edwards said during an interview at her home studio. “But once I got [to the stables] the cowboys had such a strong presence. The imagery was so different. It resonated a lot more and made me want to learn more about the trail ride and horse culture in this area.”
Since the beginning of her practice, Edwards has centered Black luxury and leisure as core subjects in her work. Growing up in Prince George’s County, she was familiar with a wide range of Black experience that often defied stereotypical presumptions. “What We Do, We’ve Always Done” continues this focus while clarifying her growth as a painter of photorealistic Black portraiture.
Edwards is a multifaceted artist who works in graphic design, photography, oil paint, and oil pastels. Research informs her practice, but so does intuition. Two years ago, she met a friend of a friend who rode horses and invited her to interview and photograph other equestrians at Black-owned stables in Upper Marlboro. She was unsure about what she might experience, but she decided to check it out anyway. She found out that many of the riders were members of historic horse clubs, communities of horse enthusiasts, including the Clinton Rough Riders, East Coast Rough Riders, Commando Posee, Squar Biness, and Valley Boyz. Some even own their own stables, such as Max Diesel, a legendary cowboy who regularly hosts trail rides and community events for novice and advanced riders. Interviewing and photographing them and other riders was enlightening for Edwards, whose process is heavily experiential and deeply personal. She never knows how the moments she observes will inspire her.
“I just shoot. For me it’s about moments. I’m not looking for a particular thing. I can’t pose people. It’s not about inserting myself. It’s about documenting moments. So I just follow them around, and we talk, and I will take pictures. I think my eye for framing certain moments is clear.”
“I just shoot. For me it’s about moments. I’m not looking for a particular thing. I can’t pose people. It’s not about inserting myself. It’s about documenting moments. So I just follow them around, and we talk, and I will take pictures. I think my eye for framing certain moments is clear.”
It was her interview with revered cowboy Mr. Ray Lockamy who inspired the title for this body of work.
“He was one of the first cowboys that I spoke with,” Edwards continued. “I asked him what makes this ‘Black’ and he said, ‘We’ve always done this!’ So it’s just a contemporary version of talking about and giving faces to a culture that most people don’t think we are a part of or have historically been the backbone of.”
The community of Black equestrians in P.G. is intimate, and many of its members find out about the legacied groups through word of mouth. It was through conversations with them that Edwards learned more about the region’s robust equestrian history. The tight-knit nature of the community also elevated a spirit of camaraderie and appreciation that felt familial. It is this energy that Edwards sought to document so that others could learn about a powerful tradition in their neighborhoods.
“Across the board, the first response everyone has had is, ‘There are Black people riding horses in this area?’” Edwards says with a laugh. “I know that cowboy culture is kind of trendy now, but to bring this regional specific story to the forefront has been great.”
The warmth of the community was surprising for Edwards. A self-described “wallflower,” she found it refreshing that people were so willing to share their stories with her. Many of them have been riding horses for generations, and despite the significant costs of caring for horses, the equestrian community remains committed to relieving barriers to riding.
“I think there are a lot of entry points to riding culture,” Edwards continued. “Some people don’t have a horse and others will have 15 or 20 horses, but people can go and take care of the horses so that they can ride them. I think [riding] has the stigma of being this super unattainable thing. It is a lot of work and it does cost, but there are many different ways for you to jump in. They really want people to be riding and keeping the culture going.”
Edwards noted that she is drawn to figuration because it seems more accessible than other artistic traditions. Figurative painting, she said, is a way of “giving my people a chance to relate to the art world.” I asked what it is about oil paint that continues to inspire her.

“I’m very tactile. Everything is about feeling. The way it moves and the options I have in terms of manipulating it. I like photorealism. I like rendering textures, feelings, colors. I think oil paint kind of gives me the most opportunity to create nuanced colors. Color is very important to me also.”
In “Rough Rider Shuffle” (2025), Edwards depicts a cowboy atop his horse while they are in full gallop. Literal sawdust and painted sand and mud billow around the white horse’s hooves. The horse’s hair and coat are so intricately rendered you’ll want to reach out and pet it. The composition places the rider in a strident posture moving away from the viewer’s gaze. Edwards documents the ecstatic and heroic experience of an urban cowboy, a Rough Rider in control of his steed.
What I find most moving about Edwards’ work is her attention to care. She isn’t just painting a replica of her photographs. Rather, she is capturing the energy of a culture and a people finding liberation and joy by riding. It’s an optical palate cleanse. It’s the audacious joy despite the ever-present waves of atrocity and grief that lightens my heart when I see these paintings. Her reverence for elder riders is especially keen, and several of the largest paintings in the series, including “Iron and Leather” and “This Ain’t No Costume,” are portraits for the patriarchs of this tradition in P.G.
“Care is important to me,” Edwards affirmed. “Care is definitely at the forefront of how I represent Black people. I always want the depictions of us to be beautiful, real, authentic, and something that people can relate to. I’m highlighting our greatness.”
