on finding more softness
I don't feel resourced enough to witness art about black trauma / pain
I went to see Donald Rodney’s 'exhibition Visceral Canker at The Whitechapel Gallery at the beginning of May a day or so before it ended and it took me a good few days to recover from the visceral impact of it. It was beautifully heartbreaking, vulnerable and palpable. Even made more so as I took my older brother to see it.
He skimmed through the gallery space so quickly, leaving as soon as he saw the short film that Donald Rodney and his friends made which touched on themes of systemic racism and his debilitating health caused by sickle cell anaemia. I felt that my brother left so soon because what he saw rang true to his own life as a black man existing within disabling realities and it was too confronting, especially as we had spent the day together talking about other challenging topics.
I was confronted by this exhibition too. But in a way that I wasn't ready for. I didn't feel resourced enough to see it and although I went for the sake of supporting the artist’s work and bearning witness - I think I could have also purchased one of his archival books and read it at home while resting. I’m kind of in two minds; I’m grateful to have seen works by such an influential person in Black British art history in the flesh, and I also really struggled to be with my body during and after being in the space.
My body was drawn to other black disabled people in the space, wanting to speak to them and share thoughts on what we were witnessing. But I also shied away from approaching these people, fearing that my interaction with them would cause discomfort or disrupt their experience of the exhibition. I was probably overthinking it as usual, but my body just wanted to connect in a space that silently highlighted the loneliness of being black and disabled - something that I feel regularly but hadn’t been confronted with in such a way, I guess.
As an artist led by intuition and sensations in the body, I pick up on minute details and unspoken narratives. I am very affected. I’m starting to realise what my capacity is for art that is very much needed in the world but too catastrophic for my world. I notice and ask;
Where in my body feels heartbreak when I experience this work? Am I resourced enough to be with that heartbreak?
Where in my body feels viscerally saddened by what I’m looking at?
Am I feeling disembodied?
Do I have the right kind of support in place to hold me after witnessing such deeply affecting works / performances?
Sometimes I don’t have the answer.
Sometimes there are many other ways of supporting this kind of work that does not leave me feeling empty or disembodied. And yet I’m so grateful it has been given the space to exist and initiate much needed conversations.
Although I really struggled with the after effects of Visceral Canker, it was really important that I engaged with Rodney’s work. Especially because of the way he reflected on Black Masculinity - particularly in black men. In my existential de-centering of men I often abandon and disregard their realities, focusing solely on mine and my community’s intersectional experiences of oppression. Bearing witness to Rodney’s work kind of felt like a reminder to show more love to the black men in my life, and to consider what it feels like to de-center men whilst still loving them.
When I got back home from the exhibition I cried, hugged and spoke to my housemate about it who had already seen it, then I journaled about it. Most importantly - I felt it. And feeling it re-oriented me to tap into what kinds of work by black artists that I desire to witness and be a part of. Even what kinds of work that I desire to create myself.
I did see another performance more recently that absolutely shook me to my core and left me reeling for a bit. I looked around in the space witnessing other audience members who seemed to be ok / not as affected. A part of me felt strange - like why ism’t anyone else crying right now? Maybe they were. But that was another sign that pointed me towards seeking more gentleness.
I want to feel more softness!
I want to experience things that still speak to my lived experience but still leave me feeling connected to myself and others!
I want more support when I witness difficult things!
I want to support black artists whose work is super important but also not feel like a hot, nauseated mess afterwards!
Some soft and gentle things by black folks that I will be witnessing / experiencing soon:
Revolutionary Dreamscapes - a space for black people to rest and connect to their bodies
Feel the Sound - an immersive exhibition all about sounds, featuring a restorative environment created by Evan Ifekoya (a fave!)
Back In My Body - a movement space to connect with the body through dance, facilitated by Sia Gbamoi (another fave!)
Soft Play - an invitation to explore the softness of self-given care through movement, facilitated by Nya Bardouille of Body Language practice (another huge fave!!)
I’m curious;
What kinds of softness are you witnessing / going to be a part of soon?
Have you witnessed any art by black folks that you’ve found challenging? What was it and how did it make you feel?
Much love,
Ayeḇainemi X