Showing posts with label Art & Culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art & Culture. Show all posts
Brooklyn, NY, USA
Brooklyn’s Very Own
Besides being the home of the NBA's Nets, the Urban Assembly School of Music, and the famous Prospect Park, Brooklyn has a diamond in the rough that is dying of some exposure; her name is Claudia Louis and MiyStanza Home is the name of her new designer, decorative, handmade pillow line.
Talk about chic! Louis has always loved designing and knew that her eclectic style would someday turn into her very own home decor line. However, pillows was one of her first creations. "... [pillows] creates a huge difference, but at the same time they're so simple," she said.
SHIBORI, "the Japanese word for a variety of ways of embellishing textiles by shaping cloth and securing it before dying. The word comes from the verb root shibori: to wring, squeeze, press, Dartmouth College describes. Hearing this description may be new to you, but Shibori has been making its way to fabrics since the 8th century. The versatility of the ancient technique is what drew Claudia in from the start. "It's normally done in indigo, but I wanted to experiment with the different colors. You can never really go wrong with it; you'll never know what it will look like until you unfold it."
Personally, I am head over heels for these dyed patterns! Because I'm such a tie dye freak, my new found love for shibori was inevitable. Although this pattern was the budding inspiration to her pillow line, shibori dying is not the only design that is in store.
"I love a dressed up bed and I've always dreamed of having my own linen line," she said. "[a well-dressed bed] may not be the coolest thing, but it's so enticing and inviting."
Besides these cute cushions, sheets and baby bedding is also on her plate. She feels that there is a dying need for afro-centric style to be incorporated into baby linen and I am totally on board. "We always see the giraffes; people are ready to see afro-centric style," she explains. Curtain designs are also expected in the future if not soon.
Now, I know you're probably thinking how the hell you can get your hands on a set of pillows; they're amazing, I know. But promoting her amazing work has been a tad bit difficult. After all, she is a full-time working mother who lives in one of the most beautiful cities in the country. It would be hard for me too! Claudia Louis has store on Etsy, the famous worldwide marketplace for many other crafty designers, but she wishes to keep that current too.
"I should post more on Instagram, but I do have a Paypal account to receive money via the web” she said.
Aside from her social networks, you can always shoot me an email for serious inquiries for an order.
"Don't expect anyone to understand your passion” Louis said with motivation. ‘Still go for it! Align yourself with other creative people to uplift yourself. Your limit is only what you set on yourself. Trust your instincts and don't listen to anyone's noise."
Discussing her design ideas and inspiration was great. Hearing such supportive words from such a talented and kind spirit instilled even more motivation and drive in myself; I hope you are taking notes. You can follow Claudia Louis at @miystanza on Instagram; don't hesitate to speak! Please don't sleep on her; she's on the come up.
Text: Sade' Louis
Atlanta, GA, USA
Spoiled Catfish
Spoiled Catfish
The year of 2015 was the year that I let my conscience and library of morals walk out of my life, just for a little while. The summer (to be exact) is when I let everything go; my dignity and lack of direction and judgement was at an all-time low. Things got a little dirty, feelings were handed and thrown away, but fun was the underlying theme.
Please do not take my carelessness for weakness; it’s not what you think. Summer ’15 had marked a year of me being single and I wanted to lose control. Yes, lose control because I am a control freak, but it’s getting better. The freak in me wants to control my love life, school life, even my financials. Once the control isn’t in the freaks’ hands, the world is not in balance. I don’t know how to mentally function when I can’t control the empty variables in my life. With that being said, in attempt to control the lack of love in my life, I took a new route.
I have never been a fan of online dating. I laugh at the very thought of the show “Catfish” and the troubles that the desperate have. I live by the “too many fish in the sea” rule. I never had a problem with meeting people in the real world, so I’m sure the irony will be evident in this story. Unfortunately, desperate became my name for the time being and I found a spoiled fish in the sea of Tinder. A close friend of mine had recommended the devilish app and had bragged so much about her success with dates. We already know that my moral compass was askew, because I downloaded the app and went to town; I set up my profile and my preferences to my likings. Smiling at my destiny on the screen, I just knew I was ready to meet someone new.
When I first encountered the fish is a lonely night in May when I house-sat for my grandmother and swiping left and right was the event of my choice. I had been writing for my website that was under construction and wanted a change of scenery from the glare of my laptop. Like any other day, I had matched with a pretty young lady, but this time I was going to take the plunge and put myself out there. I sent a message to Tiffany (let’s just call her that for privacy purposes) and started a conversation. She was in the city and wanted to hang out after 20 minutes of casual “nice to meet yous” and “what are you up to tonights”. For once I wanted to get past the standard introduction and connect with someone; it had been a year since my ex had called it quits and it was the summer, you can’t blame me. Thirty minutes in and we have exchanged numbers and planned on meeting up to hang that night. Yes, I gave a stranger my number and my general area of location, but quite frankly there was absolutely nothing else going for me expect a warm spot on the couch that had a permanent imprint of my body in it.
Regretting my poorly made decisions, I ignored her calls three times that night. Yup, the control came rushing back; I didn’t like how careless I felt. Not to mention that I suddenly no longer had the balls to leave the house to meet up with a stranger at 11 o’clock that night. I slept peacefully to say the least. The next morning consisted of me making breakfast for one, watching tv, and answering five text messages from Tiffany. “OMG, I feel asleep. I was so exhausted”, I lied. “Lol, good morning. It’s fine. Maybe we can meet up later today”, she said. I threw the phone on the couch and laughed, as if. Thinking the fun was over since I had ended this virtual relationship in my head, it was nowhere near over.
The afternoon crept in and my day was the same from the day before, boring. Writing, eating, sleeping, and the occasional smoke was my routine, no visitors, no fun. However, I was content seeing that meeting up with strange women wasn’t on my list of things to do. A phone call from an unfamiliar number broke my boring zen; I answered like normal. “Who is this?” I said. The voice with a base deeper than my father’s and closer to my grandfather’s came through the phone. I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the number on the screen with the classic “WTF face” like the phone was supposed to report who I was speaking with. Who was I speaking with? “Anthony from Tinder? You’re Sade’, right?” My heart had officially left my chest and a huge load of fear had replaced it. My mind was racing, mentally retracing my steps to figure out who the hell I had really given my number to. Thinking back to a crazy night out when I had thrown my number to randoms I never planned on speaking to past that night, but it still didn’t add up.
“You have the wrong number”, I said. I couldn’t press END any faster or harder to end this moment, literally mashed my finger into the phone. “Oh my f***ing God”, I said. I had sworn in His name and didn’t even repent two seconds later like usual. It was serious. I had just been played… by a man… who appeared to be a woman… ON TINDER. I had given this man my location, phone number; I just knew he had my address, social security number and blood type. Mentally and almost physical running away from “Tiffany”, it didn’t take long for me to 1. Block their number and 2. Get the hell off of Tinder. I was breathing so hard, the escape had become real for me and I hadn’t ran anywhere at all. Piecing each step from the night before that led me to this catfish moment was making my hands sweat, head dizzy, and dignity deflated like an old Happy Birthday balloon. I immediately felt like something had been taken from me, maybe my innocence. Regardless of me halfway trying to be a skeez for one night, I was really who I was, my location was real, and HE called my real phone. HE! It was a man. This is the sentence that I screamed in my head, but there was a thick silence that resonated in the room and a tiny ringing in my ear.
I was sick with embarrassment and real fear; I paced the room as I frantically put up my virtual fort. My loneliness and boredom had ultimately brought me to this moment and I had no one but myself to blame for the dumbest and craziest venture I had ever experience. I needed to clear my mind and shake “Tiffany” or “Anthony” off of me. My mind was not in tact after the ringing in my ear stopped and the breaking of silence with my shrieks; I can’t tell you what I did after, but I shared this story with you for a number of reasons.
First, I need to be the poster child for anti-Tinder, because why not? My online dating virginity had been taken and it was the worst sex I’ve ever had. I was led to believe one thing about this love-matching application and was a terrible fail. Secondly, I would love if I could be the one to warn the rest of you blind desperates away from the Tinder light. Please stick to the other fresh fish in the sea; meeting people in real life is seen as normal for a reason. Lastly, this is probably the funniest/dumbest/scariest/ and who doesn’t enjoy those? Don’t lie to me. I hope you’ve taken what you’ve needed from this story and laughed a little on the way. Don’t catch spoiled fish. Peace.
Text: Sade' Louis
Atlanta, GA, USA
The Summer of Memoirs: Summer Reading List
“I don’t read unless I have to.”, “I
only read for school- like required reading.”, “I can’t even remember the last
book I read on my own.”, “I … don’t really read.”--- These quotes are honest to
God, real-life sentences that came out of real people’s mouths. I know; I
couldn’t believe it either. However, my love for reading and books run deep.
From the time I’ve known myself, a book will always get my attention. Much
quicker that a friend with a new Game Boy game or a television show would.
Don’t get me wrong, I definitely had friends and loved watching Disney Channel
movies, but books… it was a different experience for me.
My mom pushed reading on myself and my younger sister (more
me) than anything. If I wanted to watch tv, I had to read a book a let her know
what it was about. When school was out for the summer, there was a whole list
of books that I had to read before school let back in. As much as it sounds
like torture, I grew to love it. So much that every year when the scholastic
book fair came to school, I forced a book flyer in her hands so that we could
choose books to buy together. That was my type of fun. Slowly, the bookshelves
in my childhood room began filling and growing in size and my reading level. I
can remember waking up for school, getting dressed, and squeezing in enough
time to eat a healthy bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and read three chapters of a
book before the school bus made it to my house. That’s how fun it was for me. I
took so much pride in bookmarks and the book light that I eventually got as a
gift. I used to get in trouble for staying up past my bedtime to read
underneath my comforter… with my book light. Yes, I loved it.
Oh how things have changed! As I grew, reading became
something distant and going out with friends and learning how to drive were
more important. Reading became something I just had to do for class and buying
books was just as foreign as reading the FREE ones at school. No, I didn’t hate
reading, we just weren’t best friends anymore. Now, being in Creative Writing
minor in school has changed that a lot. Really college as a whole, but my minor
pushes me to read every day. It was so difficult for me to adhere to
“schedules” and “deadlines for quizzes”. To me, there was no way that I could
read a whole book, complete a project, and deal with work from my other four
classes all while feeding myself and finding the time to sleep and get a decent
shower in. “There isn’t enough time in the day!”, I remember crying to my mom
my freshman year. My long lost love had turned into the worst stress and I
hated our relationship. Zooming into the present, I gained two new loves: new
and old. My year and counting girlfriend created a bucket list for us and one
of the activities was “Read the same book at the same time”. It may be easy and
discourteous of you to say that it took someone else to remind me of something
that I love to do, but then you would be correct. That’s exactly what it took.
I can live with that because your significant other, best friend, your lover is
supposed to encourage the good things.
But I don’t want to bore you guys with the monotonous stories
of my childhood, how my freshman year was the end of my life, or boast about
the love of my life; I want to share something with you. I said all of this to
say reading will always be the way to learn for me. I will always believe that
reading is the easiest and sometimes cheapest way to gain knowledge. The
simplest way to add a new word to your vocabulary and learn something you never
knew before. Possibly the coolest teacher that a person could ever have. So to
help do a good deed in the world and pass the good jewels of my mind along, I
will share my Summer16 Reading List with you all.
First up is 1. “Year of Yes: How to dance it out, Stand in the
Sun, and Be Your Own Person” by Shonda Rhimes. Now, I am only smack-dab in the
middle of this amazing read, but I think I can safely vouch for it. Yes, the
award-winning, “amazing show writing”, ruler of Thursday Nights on ABC wrote
this book and she is indeed amazing. Let’s just say that she went a whole year
of saying yes to things that would scare her and crammed it into a book, along
with some life lessons, motivational quotes, and just pure laughing moments.
You learn to hate and love her at the same time. Please go read!
Number 2. “A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier” by Ishmael Beah. This is a haunting, yet touching read. The author was a
soldier as a child after the war ruined his hometown and got picked up by the
government’s army and had to become a person he didn’t recognize and do
horrible things. Nonetheless, he overcame the traumatic events being a preteen,
BUT you have to read to see it all. Read his story; it’s so worth it.
3. “The Color of Water” by James McBride. Hailing from a
little corner in Brooklyn, New York, a brown James McBride tells his life story
between and betwixt telling his white, Jewish mother’s… but through HER voice.
Exactly. You have so many questions and now you want to read more. Just do it
(thanks Nike).
4. and 5. are “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” by
Rebecca Skloot and “The Autobiography of Malcolm X: As Told to Alex Haley” by
of course, Alex Haley. Yes, the same man who gave us “Roots” and yes, you
should read that too. I’m not even going to give you reasons to picks those up,
that is how life changing and engaging they are.
The summer is one of the best times (if not every day) to pick
up a new hobby, try something, or do something you normally wouldn’t have done.
I feel like my generation doesn’t normally lean to going to the library or the
local book store as “trying something new”, but it doesn’t always have to be
trying a new liquor with your friends and I promise you that getting a book
will be cheaper. Educate your minds! There isn’t anything more powerful in this
world than having knowledge and there’s nothing sexier than intellect. It’s
never a bad time to start and I don’t want to hear that the summer is almost
over. You don’t even have to choose any of the books on that list, but just
pick one up. Tell me what you learn. Tell me about something that made you
wonder. Tell me about something you read that made you a better you than you
were yesterday.
Text: Sade' Louis
Philadelphia, PA, USA
An Afternoon of Action & an exclusive interview with Art Hoe Collective curator, Gabrielle Richardson!
Entering the American Apparel store in West Philly
on the last Wednesday of July was like entering a hub of youth power and
creativity. The room was filled with discussion, laughter and the awkward, but
happy chatter of people making conversation with strangers. But in a way, this
diverse group of strangers were all familiar, united in an interest and
investment in youth activism.
This was the Afternoon of Action, an event
sponsored by American Apparel for young people to engage in politics and
activism, in response to the DNC being in Philadelphia. The event was composed
of sign-making, mass snow-cone consumption, screen printing T-shirts, jamming
out to great music and listening to an engaging and diverse panel.
Mary A. - 26, Aubrey S. - 18
Lower images from American Apparel’s Snapchat
Lower images from American Apparel’s Snapchat
The message printed on the T-shirts.
Screen printing a t shirt
Jared J. - 19, Michael W. - 19
Jared J. - 19, Michael W. - 19
There was great music, provided by HarmonyTividad, whose singing was a
highlight of the event and Wassup Gina. There was not a
person in the room who did not enjoy her DJ skills.
Gabrielle Richardson organized this wonderful event
and chaired the panel with thoughtful questions. The speakers brought their
experiences as members of marginalized group and put forward some really
interesting and important ideas, particularly athe conversation about the
implications of the event being held in American Apparel. You should definitely
check it out:
You may need to turn up the sound to the loudest it
will go.
Gabby is also one of the founders of the ArtHoe Collective, which is providing a brilliant creative
space for queer people of colour. I spoke to her about politics and the importance
of youth activism.
How are you feeling now that Hillary has officially secured the
Democratic Nomination?
I think that Hillary, although she is a bit more
left than Donald Trump and the Conservatives, overall her policies are not
meant to help the working class, the poor, black people - marginalized people
at all.
How do you feel youth activism will continue to develop now that Hillary
is the nominee - what direction do you think it will go in?
I think youth activism is actually really changing America
and our policies because the youth, they’re the next generation and they are
dissatisfied with how things are going and they know that their future is not
looking bright because of the people in power. And so they’roe the ones who are
gunning for change because the word really is theirs. I think we have youth
activism now especially with the internet because we now have a platform.
Before, children were told to be seen and not heard. Now, we have so many
platforms outside of our family, outside of the people we are just in contact
with immediately. We now have a platform to speak to everyone.
So do you think it’s going to develop more now?
I think it’s developing right now - even through
this workshop.
Do you feel there is more power in youth activism than in other
age-groups activism? Why?
Definitely! Older people are afraid of the youth.
Old people are afraid of the youth, because they know that when we outnumber
them and we are tired [of the current system]. We’re young, we’re tired and we
have more energy. We are more empathetic - towards others and towards each
other. We feel more. We want to connect. And we have access to connect, through
the internet, through instagram, through facebook, And I do think that youth
activism is the strongest activism. I think youth activism to a certain extent
might even be… well, not the only activism because their are older people who
are activists, but we’re the ones that are in the streets.
How does your own identity and background affect and influence your
activism?
I’m black and I’m queer and I’m also a woman. Black
women are just treated like shit on all fronts, women are treated like shit,
black people are treated like shit, queer people are treated like shit. . We
are being murdered and going unacknowledged for our pain. I think that adds to
my activism and forms my politics about who I am, because these things affect
me. I feel like being on one of the lowest rungs, or one of the lowest rungs,
gives me empathy for those who also suffer, in different ways to me, because I
have gone through my suffering and I can see other people going through their
suffering and I know how it feels. I can see people across all states of
marginalisation and say ‘I feel this. I feel for you’.
So do you feel like the Art Hoe Collective is helping people of colour
to connect with other people of colour?
Yes, definitely! I actually was talking to someone
who emailed me from Refinery29 and they were like “Hey, we were doing an article on black
businesses you didn’t know about” and she said she found out one of the
businesses from the Art Hoe Collective, because we have a day where we promo
businesses owned by people of colour and we promo coalitions and groups and
collectives by other people of colour. People have actually said they found
other people and made connections via Art Hoe.
Who or what inspires your activism?
I get inspiration for my activism from my peers, my
friends and those who stand next to me in the fight. Sometimes when I feel it’s
hard to continue fighting for myself and fighting for others, I realize that
I’m not alone. It’s not a battle into the night, alone with a candle, it’s a battle with all my friends and my allies.
Gabby is @fridacashflow on Instagram and the Art
Hoe Collective is @arthoecollective
San Diego, CA, USA
Why All Lives Don't Matter
“All Lives
Matter!” Misogynists and racists are all about inclusiveness, until systematic
oppression is rightfully blamed on them. “Not all men!” they’ll cry. With an
increasingly active and visible movement, people are quick to point out to
activists and advocates that slavery was so long ago and to stop whining. “The
Civil Rights Movement was 50 years ago, right?”
The reality is
that white people did not care about living Martin Luther King Jr. They like to
quote him mercilessly to shame Black Lives Matter and other activists doing the
good work on the streets. After King was murdered at the hands of the U.S. government, white people think he
died for their sins. “Turn the other cheek,” they say.
If black lives
truly did matter, Obama’s citizenship and religion wouldn’t have been brought
into question by Americans. If black lives truly did matter, googling “Obama racist”
wouldn’t come up with search results about how Michelle and Barack Obama are
“anti-white.” If black lives truly did matter, Dr. Dre, a celebrity multi-millionaire,
wouldn’t be arrested for calling the police. If black lives truly did matter,
the Supreme Court would not have gutted the Voting Rights Act, an act that activists who marched from Selma, demanded. If black lives
truly did matter, Flint’s water would be clean after months of
media coverage and public outrage. If black lives truly did matter, unarmed
black citizens wouldn’t be killed by the police. If black lives
truly did matter, Black Lives Matter would not be needed. If all lives
mattered, black lives would matter.
Protesters and activists blocking the I-15, a major
highway in San Diego, California
We
must unite and act in solidarity together. Black lives don’t matter, so we need
to fight to make sure that they do. As Geneva Reed-Veal, Sandra Bland’s mother,
said:
“I’m not angry
enough to create a riot where I burn things down, but I will create a riot, I
will set off so that people will understand that this is real. Movements move.
Activists activate. We have got to stop talking and move. So I leave you with
this: it is time to wake up, get up, step up, or shut up.”
Together, we can be movers and
shakers. Working together is the oppressor’s worst fear. Together, we can build
a world that is safe and free to be yourself and love.
If the Civil Rights Movement taught us
anything, it is that demanding for peace and equality will only fall on deaf
ears. We will not stand for concessions that can easily be repealed. We will
not settle for what the government can afford to give us. The government works
for us. We cannot be ignored and we cannot be intimidated if we stand together.
We will define what the government must give us. We will ensure that we have
peace and safety. Black lives matter. People are being murdered. What are we
going to do about it?
Atlanta, GA, USA
Creative Babe: Meet William Arie
Name: William Arie
Age: 18
Where are you from? Houston, Texas
When did you become interested in art? I became interested in art as a child; I've been drawing ever since I could hold a pencil
Who inspires you the most? Black people in general, but in particular, Black women inspire me the most. I grew up around my sisters, I connect with mothers; I just feel for and with Black women who love in a world where that love doesn't always reciprocate yet carry on with regal grace.
Where do you see your talents taking you in the future? I see my talents taking me everywhere in the future; anywhere I want to go. I feel like I should welcomed to any city or welcomed on any stage in due time. I want my influence to stretch out as far as possible; from the walls in your city to the music you hear, and the movies you see. I'll be there in due time.
If you could give advice to your younger self what would you say? I would tell my younger self "Everything I could want and need is already inside of me, just start working towards it at this moment. Don't wait! Someone needs you and will appreciate what you put out."
What has been your favorite piece to work on so far? My favorite piece I've worked on so far is "The Most Disrespected Person in Amerikkka." It's a marker and ink drawing of a crucified Black woman want I drew in November 2015. It was inspired by a Malcolm X quote of the same words. I love it because it's controversial and is, indeed, a conversation starter.
What's your creative process? My creative process involves going into solitude, desk, paper, pencil in hand, headphones in, press play on the music, sketch out the drawing. Getting the initial sketch down is the most tedious task. After that's done, apply marker and ink.
How can people view your art? People can view my art on my Instagram : @harlemenvogue
Atlanta, GA, USA
Colorism: The Portrayal of Black Women
How do you expect a woman to react when you say “you’re pretty for a dark skinned girl”? Have you ever stopped to think that the statement might just be a negative thing to say rather than a form of endearment. It is received as an insult not a compliment. These are the problems that African American women face on a daily basis. Certain stigmas are attached to African American women whether they are of a lighter skin tone or a darker skin tone; both face harsh criticisms, some however are worse than others.
Colorism is defined as the discrimination of a group of people based on the tone of their skin usually those of darker complexion. But the occurring problem isn’t just the darker skinned tone, but the way people portray it on Black women. Darker women are always seen in a negative light and never seem to be as beautiful or as appealing to the eye as a lighter toned woman. It’s as if women are attacked more if they are dark skinned and lighter toned women are often held on a higher pedestal.
“Dark skinned girls in the black community have a negative stigma attached to them” Imani said. “Darker skinned girls in the black community are often known for being ‘the dark skinned friend with an attitude’ or told ‘not to play in the sun’”.
Listening to my friends recount times where their skin tone made them feel unaccepted or unworthy really was an eye opener for me. It didn’t matter if they were dark skinned or light skinned they all had their different struggles based upon the color and tone of their skin.
“Dark skinned girls have to overcompensate to be cute,” Akili stated. Growing up she always heard ridiculous remarks like “if she was only light skinned” or “dark skin girls are ugly.”
Why has colorism become such an issue in our community? Who is to blame? “It is our fault that colorism in the African American community still exists. We are much stronger race than we realize, but the fact that we have been mentally oppressed for years that everything has become normal. Colorism is another mental oppression tactic that continues to wear us down. It doesn’t matter what shade you are, when all the “superior race” sees is black. The life of being dark-skinned is not easy when the media praises lighter people more on a daily basis. We face double the criticism from the outside race and within our race”, Martenza said.
Lighter toned women still face criticism as well that is often forgotten. “I don’t think that there is a difference between stereotyping dark skinned people and light skinned people because it is all the same. Light skinned women are always portrayed as having an attitude when that isn’t always true. People automatically assume that lighter toned women are stuck up and that think they are better than everyone else and that isn’t true either”, stated Sasha.
At the end of the day, the Black community has to realize that we all have to come together to make a change in how we are portrayed within our own community as well as how others portray us. “There’s a certain beauty in dark skin. And every dark skin is different and that’s what makes it even more beautiful”, Cassie said. It makes you take a step back and wonder how many young black girls feel uncomfortable in their own skin and how many black women are still dealing with their own struggles? Being black is beautiful and powerful beyond measure and if we take a second and embrace ourselves and each other and instead of focusing on our difference, the black community would be in a much better and stronger place.
Text: Mariah Richardson
San Diego, CA, USA
Freedom: Beyoncé and Kendrick Lamar set the stage on fire
Beyoncé and Kendrick Lamar had our souls and booties shaking with their surprise performance opening the 2016 BET Awards— though I should admit, I mostly cried. The performance was a beautiful extension of Beyoncé’s visual album, Lemonade. Before you read on, I highly recommend you watch their opening performance at the BET Awards. Come back after you’ve been baptized.
In Lemonade, Queen Bey portrays Oshun (as seen in the picture above), an Orisha (diety) from Yoruba culture. In her BET performance, Beyoncé seems to extend this homage to the beloved goddess. Orisha is the ruler of rivers and fresh water. She is water. Since all living things need water, She connects all living things. The water’s sounds carry Orisha’s whispers to all animals, who understand her without effort. Yoruba elders say Oshun is the “unseen mother present at every gathering.” She is everywhere. We experience her as beauty, love, and ecstasy.
Beyoncé and her dancers adorned black attire that mimicked tribal tattoos alluding to West African tribes. Before Beyoncé sings of freedom, all we see is red smoke, evocative of blood and police lights. Orisha is associated with deep yellow in Nigeria and most of the African diaspora. So far in the performance, there seems to be no signs of Orisha.
Upon closer inspection, we see a yellow light off-center, but still highlighting Beyoncé. There is Orisha’s yellow. Even if we do not sense Her, She is said to be omnipresent and omnipotent. She is there, backing up the Queen. Orisha can ride her dancers— in other words, possess. The light seems to ride Beyoncé and the transformation begins. We then realize that the stage is water. The performers have been with Orisha all along. “I’ma rain, I’ma rain.” Beyoncé is rain. “I’ma wade, I’ma wave.” Beyoncé is waves. Beyoncé becomes Orisha, the mother of birds and water herself.
When Oshun rides a woman, it is said that “She dances, flirts, then weeps— because no one can love Her enough and the world is not as beautiful as She knows it could be.” Weeping is a reflection of Oshun’s deep capacity for love and dire need to be loved. Weeping is not a weakness. Beyoncé’s tears, a vital source of healing and love, are the fuel to her angry cries for freedom, the greatest love one could ask for. “I’m telling these tears, ‘Go and fall away, fall away.’ May the last one burn into flames.” From the water comes the flames. In the heart of the flames is Orisha’s yellow, her guidance. And still, these flames would not be present or necessary if not for the violent red surrounding these black women, these forces of nature.
Throughout the performance, we’re given a visual dichotomy of fire and water. In the Western world, the two are seen as opposites; water extinguishes fire. In both Beyoncé’s visual performance and lyrics, fire and water are instead seen as one in nature. Her dancers awaken these forces of nature, splashing through the water, inciting the fire with their own feet. Meaning to say, black women are and will be proudly responsible for their own liberation.
If Beyoncé is Orisha, her dancers are Her priestesses. They dance and stomp to the rhythm of Beyoncé’s voice, just as Orisha’s priestesses do to the rhythm of water (Orisha’s voice). Together, the dancers perform in water to honor Orisha, much like priestesses do along the Osun River in Nigeria. The dancers gather water, relying on it, on Orisha, to guide and heal them again, just as runaway slaves did.
Men in white pants join the stage. Together, the performers stomp in solidarity, reminiscent of West African tribal dances. The ritual seems to call out for someone.
Then, a boy from the streets of Compton, Kendrick Lamar, rises from below.
Drenched in blood red, Kendrick drops a few new bars. He is shrouded by white smoke, as if to signal a hopeful future that has yet to become tangible. But this hopeful future will be actualized in black youth like Kendrick.
As Kendrick goes in, Beyoncé crouches down and dances in the famed rap squat pose, embracing her identity as a black American; her African and American roots come into full circle, embodied as one.
To have Beyoncé and Kendrick open for the BET Awards was a powerful and necessary statement. The importance of Lemonade is in its celebration of all blackness: Afro-Latinas, Africans, Afro-Caribbeans, Afro-Asians, black Americans (and the diversity within them)— I could go on and on. Beyoncé and Kendrick Lamar recognize their history. They comprehend the oppression and violence their ancestors suffered to get to their own positions of wealth and social stature. They won’t let their freedom rot in hell. They will continue to run. They will continue to raise hell for their freedom. Fifty years later, Martin Luther King Jr.’s demands have not been satisfied. Black Americans demand what was promised to them — their constitutional guarantee. Black Americans demand freedom.
Text: Shanika Lazo
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