Back in 2016, I made a body of work that addressed the historical appetite for images of violence against Black people.

That work, FAMILY PICTURES came to fruition because of a lot of people.

I had the wonderful and immensely talented Ryan Arthurs-a white man-as my camera operator, my retoucher and my photography teacher. I learned how to use a new technology and marry it to my own vision. The quality of his teaching in this project is borne out by the quality of the work. Ryan listened to what I wanted and he helped me figure out the best way to do it. He was patient and informative and consistent and never once tried to undermine me or redirect my vision of the work. It remains one of the best working relationships I’ve ever had.

I had the generous and brave Camilo Alvarez as my gallerist at Samsøñ. We had been working together for years and we were about to mount my third solo exhibitions with the gallery, the show that became The School of Love. I showed him FAMILY PICTURES on my computer and we both cried. I wanted to show the work with him but to his trained eye it was clear that this had to be an exhibition on its own. He suggested that the show be in two parts. He would show The School of Love. He also said something to me I’ve never forgotten. “People expect me to show a work like FAMILY PICTURES. You need to find someone to do it that no one would expect.”

I immediately thought of Arlette.

Arlette Kayafas is a white woman who runs one of the best photography galleries in the country, Gallery Kayafas. I asked Camilo to call her and set up a meeting. Even though we knew each other I wanted to be formal in presenting the work. We all met, Camilo and I, and Arlette and her husband, Gus-a white man, who is an amazing photographic printer and runs Palm Press. I showed them the work and my idea for the exhibition. Arlette immediately said that she wanted to show the work. Moreover, she said that she felt like it was her responsibility to show it.

Gus printed the work with an extreme amount of care and elegance. He had many ideas about presentation, slipcovers, and editioning that I would have done if I had the money to do so. It was a tremendously expensive project to do. Gus found a paper with a high cotton content-a feature which was important for the concept of the work, considering the relationship between cotton and the images in the photographs.

I designed a layout that involved making pine vitrines on saw horses for the display of the work. These vitrines were covered with plexiglass. At about 3 x 6 feet, the effect was to walk through a series of images like a viewing at a wake. These items were all built to my specifications by white men-Sam Toabe, Pat Falco, and Lee Wormald. Their craft and patience was exemplary.

People in the gallery would say to Arlette, “This is so hard to look at.” She would square her shoulders and say to them, “Imagine how hard is must be to have to make it.” She was unflinching in her ability to talk about the work. She researched the texts that I had provided for the gallery and she took excellent care of the images as well as my vision. She took the work on in a commercial space and worked closely with me to have my vision realized and respected. I told her that she would not sell anything and she told me that she didn’t care. (She actually DID sell some of the work, which is a testament to what a great gallerist she is. She also refused to sell the work to people she thought wouldn’t understand it.)

Arlette facilitated that discussion by hosting this show. I look back on it at this moment because the issues are the same, but now-due to COVID and other considerations there are fewer art spaces, curators and even fewer galleries who would risk engaging with this work. For all of the talk of “diversity” in the art world, it remains very much closed to Black artists-especially if those artists’ work focused on something other than a palatable vision of Blackness that is easy to consume.

I am so grateful that I was able to find people who helped me realize and present this work. In a world where so many people want to pay lip service to Black people, I was fortunate to find a white woman who was willing and unafraid to present a body of work critical of white pleasure at Black pain. I am grateful that I was able to find some collaborators who did not try to undermine me.