I started making short films and music videos before I really dove into still photography. Cinematography has had a huge impact on the way that I make images and attempt to convey a complete narrative in such a finite space.

I first came across Marlon Riggs’s work via Essex Hemphill’s poetry, which I was introduced to by a friend. Had I seen Riggs’s Tongues Untied as a teenager, or any vital pieces of filmmaking for that matter, I think it would have prevented a lot of personal turmoil and confusion.

Black is Black Ain’t is the first of his films that I watched. I felt simultaneously free and heartbroken after seeing it. I was drawn to his hypnotic visual language and the triumph of his own personal narrative. After this initial exposure, I wanted to find everything he’d ever made, which I did, and that eventually led to discovering more artists who’d all left behind these beautiful legacies. Watching and absorbing these films for the first time gave me access to representation, empathy and understanding.

I wish Marlon Riggs had been my high school counselor. Someone to confide in with all my secrets and fears, to know that there was care in every response, and love when I thought it wouldn’t exist for me.

• 

• 

I didn’t go to college or study fine art. Perhaps that’s why I was so late in discovering Marlon Riggs and Essex Hemphill. In my work now, I often reference these figures and their images, and in doing so, I hope to expose young Black people to a lot of their ideas that were so transformative for me. It’s important to have free access and learn from those who came before us–to feel held by them and channel their strength.

The Learning Tree by Gordon Parks and Looking For Langston by Isaac Julien are films I have directly referenced in my work. I’ve recreated certain film stills that bear resonance to me, in a way attempting to perpetuate their legacies and uncover new meaning within today’s culture.

• 

• 

The Man with Night Sweats
by Thomas Gunn

I wake up cold, I who
Prospered through dreams of heat   
Wake to their residue,   
Sweat, and a clinging sheet.   

My flesh was its own shield:   
Where it was gashed, it healed.

I grew as I explored   
The body I could trust   
Even while I adored
The risk that made robust,

A world of wonders in
Each challenge to the skin.

I cannot but be sorry
The given shield was cracked,
My mind reduced to hurry,   
My flesh reduced and wrecked.

I have to change the bed,   
But catch myself instead

Stopped upright where I am   
Hugging my body to me   
As if to shield it from   
The pains that will go through me,

As if hands were enough   
To hold an avalanche off.

Aside from film, artists like Kerry James Marshall and David Hammons have been incredibly influential for me. I like how KJM creates contemporary paintings that have so much history built into them. They tell Black stories of belonging, oppression and a shared desire to live free from racial injustices. His works are very beautiful and at the same time I sense an underlying darkness–a certain dream-like representation of the Black human condition that feels all too familiar.