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s a young Black woman, I was drawn to the narrative Jon Henry created in his photography project, “Stranger Fruit.” Growing up, I was always taught to be wary of cops—to hold both hands on the wheel if I am pulled over; to speak clearly and, when I am looking for my driver’s license and registration, to tell the officer so they know I am not searching for a weapon. However, in the wake of the recent police-related deaths of Black men, women, and children—including George Floyd, Elijah McClain, Breonna Taylor, Brayla Stone, Tatiana Stone, and others—it is clear to me that no actions, no show of kindness, can protect us from the reality that people still refuse to say “Black Lives Matter” and that overfunded police departments reinforce our current system of oppression. “Stranger Fruit” confronts the reality Black mothers and siblings must face when a member of their family dies at the hand of the police. How does it feel to hold your son in your arms? With this in mind, I discussed the series with Jon Henry himself to learn more about his creative process and the intentions behind the project. To start off, I’d love for you to introduce the series, “Stranger Fruit,” and discuss where that began. Henry: So, I’m Jon Henry. I’m from Queens, New York. The project “Stranger Fruit” began in 2014 as a response to the murders of African American men due to police violence. Using the Pieta, Michelangelo’s sculpture of Mary mother of Christ holding the dead body of Christ, I used that as the vehicle to photograph African American men and their mothers across the country.
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Why did you choose the Pieta to portray the mother/son dynamic? Henry: It made the most sense for me. I was thinking about this intense suffering—you know, obviously, the passion and all the stuff from the bible; the heightened moment of suffering and this incredible amount of grief. But, then, translating that to the community, it was a very close parallel for me because, when these tragedies happen, all I think about are the mothers, and families in general, but in particular the mothers. So, that mother/son dynamic is what guided the project. That’s how I landed on the Pieta in the first place. I know in a couple of your images you switch the format—it’s a mother alone in a room. Why did you choose to change it? Henry: I thought the project would be too redundant if it was just the mother/ son images every single time. I wanted to give the viewer something to hold their attention. So there are these images of the mother in isolation— sometimes, you can sense that there is a second presence that’s there, that’s missing; sometimes, not so much. But, basically, it’s a tie back to the mothers that have lost. How do their day-to-day activities look after the event? What does it look like a week later? A month later? Six years later? How are you supposed to go on as normal after these terrible events have happened? So, [I used] the environment— the rooms, the open space—to help the viewer to get into the mindset of the mother. How did you then select your subjects and your locations? Henry: The subjects are just through the network—through friends of friends reaching out and saying “this person might be interested, reach out to this family.” Some people reach out independently via social
