"(re)assemblage" (2024) had its debut in "The Brooklyn Artists Exhibition" at the Brooklyn Museum from October 2024 to January 2025 to commemorate 200th anniversary of the museum's existence. 

A Fated Sunday Morning

The very genesis of this visual series started on a chilly Sunday morning visit to a local flea market in the Upper West Side of Manhattan with a dear friend, Mallory. She spotted a Frida Kahlo painting, "Self Portrait with Cropped Hair" (1940). In small print, above a seated Frida Kahlo in a men's three-piece suit, holding a pair of scissors and locks of hair at her feet, are song lyrics in Spanish that translate to "Look, if I loved you it was because of your hair. Now that you are without hair, I don't love you anymore," in English. 

We're looking over the painting and Mallory shares the idea of a photoshoot with a Black woman, but only this time she's covered with braiding hair or long braids. The lightbulb lit up and I asked that she give me some time to write up a concept for a photo shoot...

The Work

The concept of "(re)assemblage" was a reimagining of the original Frida painting through the lyrics of "Raven", “I separate. Starting to feel my body now,” from Ethiopian-American vocalist and producer, Kelela. 

“(re)assemblage” (2024) is a two-part photo series that captures the beauty of being grounded. Discerning fact from fiction and detaching from external projections, whilst beginning the process of re-assembling yourself in order to feel inside your body again. Grounded in your authentic self again. 

The overall concept connects back to the lyrics from Kelela's song "Raven" and answers the question, “What’s left when the raven is reborn?” The answer: She’s a masterpiece. No longer a marionette held by strings. 

Part One

In Part I of “(re)assemblage,” the subject matter exists in a dreamlike state as an assemblage of a porcelain doll that begins to fade away in a ghastly transformation, marking the start of her process of detaching from the strings of external validation and expectations that once held her like a marionette.

Part Two

In Part II, (image above) she sheds and separates from that avatar, descending back to reality. She allows the dust to settle around her. She's planted.  Her face is more warm and present, but hidden from the spectator as act of defiance. The porcelain doll is now human. She's reassembled on her own terms. 

The white gloves, that were once hidden behind the curtain, now hold the golden picture frame that frames the woman. Influenced by Lorraine O’Grady’s iconic “Art Is…” (1983) performance, the woman stands front and center, growing like a giant as she breaks the fourth wall.