I DON’T KNOW ABOUT THAT
BLACKOUT
We are going to tell you a true story.
there were these people who lived here, all over, and did things a particular way…as people do. then some other people came from a far place. they came because they couldn’t figure out how to be seen where they lived. these poor people, because they were never seen, they didn’t know how to see. they used this to justify and enforced dumb rules that continued not to see people and smoosh people. These folks were so blind that after the smooshing, they traveled far and brought more people that they refused to see, so that they could create little towers to sit on top of and overlook people and places that they couldn’t see. they also told the world, that this is the most wonderful place for being seen. so if they are having trouble being seen, come here, help build some towers and be seen…just a little more then the folks they brought and the folks they smooshed, but not very much. the people who they couldn’t see started removing the bricks of the towers. when the towers started to shake the blind folks picked a representative from the folks they refused to see and tried to prove that they could see, by seeing that particular representative. this was done so they couldn’t be accused of having vision problems. it did create a bit of confusion, and some residual blindness amongst the unseen. this got the unseen folks to slow down the dismantling of the towers. this went on for many years, but the towers were still being slowly dismantled from many angles. in fact, this went on so long that the unseen started to outnumber the vision-impaired folks. then the super high towers fell. after they fell, the light was so bright that all folks had to learn to see again.
i see you.
you will see me.
This is from an installation created in 2016…we been saying.
REMIXED!
REMIXED
I love museums but I really have to be in the mood to go. It’s so hard to go into these institutions that basically have erased your whole existence, or minimize it ie: minimal inclusion for tokenism. That’s why I tend to go on the pay what you wish for the free days. I figure they have enough rich people upholding the racist ideas of the institution. I’ll just mosey on in and go for free because I feel like my people have paid enough, be it inspiration or sheer labor or continuing to be ‘the help’.
It’s interesting, as I walk through this whole exhibition all I see is the designer’s access, access to money, access to materials, access to audience, and access to media. I wish I didn’t recognize one third to half of the designers, but access seems to buy you a piece of the audience whether they like it or not. This access is so cloudy that it’s hard to tell if this work is amazing, or if it just had so much access that it is revered. The recognition of the designers, itself just gives the whole exhibition more gravity than I’d like to.
I’ll always be inspired by color texture pattern so it goes without saying that this exhibition is inspiring but I can’t help but feel that something is missing…oh yeah, designers of color.
Ironically the exhibitions is guarded by docile looking black people dressed up like butlers.
Side note funny story. I once went out one night in Philadelphia wearing these exact shoes only to be turned away by the doorman saying that women had to wear heels and I was out of dress code. Ironic to see these exact same shoes in an exhibition in the Philadelphia Museum of art. I guess it all depends on who’s wearing them.
The gatekeepers of history and culture seem to have those little blinders on like a horses that you see carrying people around in New York on little wagons. With blinders, one has such a limited view and the casualties of the limitations include all the people that helped inspire influence and push these fashions and art. Sometimes it feels as if they are purposely placing invisibility to all these other people that exist.
Don’t worry I won’t leave you hanging. Here’s a few notable fashion related pieces that highlight the participation and role of Black culture in fashion. The Nod did an amazing episode on the Battle of Versaille, called ‘Chitlins at Bergdorfs.’ In 2015 Sacha Jenkins directed a pretty cool doc called ‘Fresh Dressed’ that focuses on urban fashion and its role in main stream. The Mz. Icar team and I decided to remix this exhibition because we will pull up a seat at any table we want to.
Collage/ Illustration by Mz .Icar
photos courtesy of @jendayiasha, c.kennebrew and Junkprints archive// Select shoot Production by: @ediomi @efikokostudios // makeup: @_brittanyrogers // hair: @tierras_hair_artistry // accessories: @statement92
models: @mariosimonee, @annett_ka26, @sheshe_themodel
ARMOUR
ARMOUR
We stayed cultured, but we also stay maaaad suspect (insert raised eyebrow). Here are some notes from a recent trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
The concept of armour is such a ‘white man’ ideology. Obviously all of these armoured gear were made in Europe. The whole idea of being so heavy and covered with limited agility limited vision and limited dexterity in order to combat an enemy seems utterly stupid. All your opponent needs to do is set you on fire and you’ll immediately burn up/melt in your armour, or they could just run around you in circles because there’s no way that you could possibly defeat anybody running around you in circles. It almost seems as if it’s the whole idea is to be so far away from the problem vs facing it honestly truthfully and with humility.
Ya’ll know how we love solutions and alternative methods so here is a list of alternatives to armour.
- Play dead, when your enemy arrives everyone just drop to the floor like the fiercest death drop ever.
- Chant.
- smile and extent a hand…genuinely.
- if your enemy arrived in armour, just gong them in the head, or do that harlem shake thing that they do in basketball that breaks ankles.
*Since we are talking about European ‘armour’ figured we use that extra ‘u’ in the spelling. The Queen’s English seems to think o’s are lonely. Guess it’s our version of putting some respect on it.
MAYDAY, MAYDAY, WHERE ARE THE LADY CODERS?
The project was completely laid out. All the pngs were size then ready for uploading. Sitemap was created. Funds ready to be distributed. All support images and information were ready for the right coder...the right bad ass back slash. bracket genius.
It was really important to us to hire a woman coder preferably a woman of color. This ended up being quite a challenge. We reached out to local coding organizations in which we didn't receive any replies. We also sent out feelers through our community and received a few responses. Most people were not confident about taking on the job. The only people who were confident about taking on the job were white male coders. They were highly professional a pleasure to talk to and I got the sense that the project would have been done smoothly and timely.
Being that we are all about collaboration, empowerment, balance and sustainability we felt that it was important that this job circulated money to women. This proved to be quite the challenge. We finally thought we found our star, but she thought sending screenshots of progress equated to creating a functioning site...le sigh.
The last few months resulted in us becoming so frustrated that we just created our own site in house and kept our funds to ourselves. Now on the surface this may seem like a total win. It's not tho, for the following reasons: 1. it took our time away from making other things 2. It also removed money from the pockets of other women that it could sustain. Being that we are trying to create strong roots through the community, share and collaborate, in many ways this was a fail. We hope to do better in our future projects.
We see ourselves on both sides of this project, the customer and the commissioned and hope that we can be better at both. Perhaps we are writing this as a call or a beacon to rethink the way that we are approaching things and as a reminder not to be so overcome with insecurities about our abilities to serve one another by deliver fantastic work and getting paid for it.
Welcome to the Mz. Icar website. This is just the framework but the beams are in place and we look forward to filling up the space.
THOTS ON HORSES
Often times when we can’t see other people we try to distance ourselves in a way that puts the other person as far away from us as possible. It’s a clever way to justify crimes and injustices committed against that person or group. Just make them very separate from you you don’t have to see the humanity in them. it’s a way to excuse yourself from being empathetic to that person or group of persons. The resolution that one would find for someone that they love or considered a member of one’s community would be much different from that of someone seen as on outsider or not seen at all.
The hyphenation on American is the perfect proximity manager. Its a linguistic divider that acts as a bridge or train track to the ‘other type’ of American. They type that is so far that they almost aren’t. If they ‘aren’t’ then the dignity empathetic and inclusion awarded to those that are isn’t necessary for those that aren’t. The only non hyphenated Americans are white. Everyone else gets that nifty proximity managing hyphen. Case in point the original Native-Americans, the exploited African-American, Asian-Americans etc.
That like hyphen might as well be as long as a trail of tears. I would like to say it’s a celebration of heritage and perhaps sometimes it is, but I feel that it is used more often as a proximity to whiteness manager.
As language does, It’s evolved to reflect the guilt surrounding it. An example of this evolution is the outdated term ‘half-breeds’ which was used to identify people who were partially of the African diaspora and part white in the United States. Better translated “as half of you, half of me, kinda like a horse but not like me at all because I’m not like a horse, you are.”
My artist brain was thinking, wouldn’t the literal version of a half breed would manifest as a centaur? To put a literal figurative component to that particular term as most things that we try to distance ourselves from become so absurd.
Speaking of horses. As a kid I wanted a horse. I wanted to go horse back riding and do competitions like some rich girls I had recently read about. The closest I personally got to acquisition was my little ponies which were fine, because real horse aren’t pink and purple and do not have hearts in there eyes. Well, there was that one time when our next door neighbors from Mexico brought back 2 horse and kept them in their suburban southern California back yard. The whole block smelled like horse poo and all the kids from the elementary school would crowd the gate to see them.I didn’t want a horse any more it seemed silly. My grandmother was so annoyed and called the city and that was that the horses were gone. Don’t know where they went maybe sold to those rich girls I was reading about.
Perhaps because, I didn’t have a real horse or stable I figured only like 4 girls had that horsey life. Fast forward to college and I met those pony having girls. They were real. It was weird…it was a thing…and I wondered if they ever thought of girls who didn’t have horses. My conclusion is that it never crossed there pony having minds. At that point I was annoyed with my childself for putting so much thought into them.
THE LYING PHOTOGRAPH
A photo was never enough. A photo couldn't tell the whole picture. It was as if a photo was just lie that everyone mistook as intrinsically 'the truth' because it looked so real. Perhaps that's why I love a collage and photo montage I love the idea of forcing the viewer to contend with, what you were showing them is not real it's altered. it's all a prospective. it always was a perspective.
My University had an amazing archival photo collection and one of my favorite things to do was to look at the contact sheets. one photographer in particular was Henri bressant's. he was always running around talking about his decisive moment. but that was a myth or a straight up lie because that decisive moment was only made possible by The moments before the moments after it and that one singling out that perfect frame. Making the decisive moment more like a decisive curation. I love a contact sheet, it speaks way more to the journey of what's happening than any single picture could ever do.
there's something about the dIstorted proportions of college that Force the viewer to contend with the curation of the image maker. It renders the image so impaired that it's impossible to take it as absolute truth.
though a photo should never be taken as absolute truth because there was always something that happened right before or right after to the left and to the right of what was captured in the frame. Often the sun and the mood itself is part of the conspiracy.