JULY 2020
Black
Lives
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MATTER
Copyright © 2020 ZIMETRA. All Rights Reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited. Please note that these artworks are published with full consent of the relevant artists and are not for sale except for artworks by artist Vasi Udurawane. Any image or information should not be transmitted, reproduced or copied without permission of ZIMETRA or the artist.
“If you’re part of a group that’s called ‘other,’ a group that does not get the chance to be centerstage, build your own stage and make them see you. Your queerness is beautiful, your blackness is beautiful. Your compassion, your understanding, your fight for people who may be different from you, is beautiful,” - Beyonce, 2020. “Act today in ways that you will respect tomorrow. From how you treat yourself to how you treat others in real life and online. And what I mean by online, just remember those comments you leave online, those thumbs-up or thumbs-down, they will outlive you. They are part of your resume of who you are.” - Matthew McConaughey, 2020. “I think about a broad forest filled densely with tall trees. Trees as old as this country itself. Trees that were planted with racist seeds. Trees that grew prejudice branches and oppressive leaves and mangled roots that buried and entrenched themselves deep within the soil, forming a web so well developed and so entangled that push back when we try to look clearly at how it really works. This forest is where we live; it’s who we are. It’s the moral and value system that we as a society have upheld and emboldened for centuries. I make this analogy between racism and nature in this country because it’s as pervasive and real as nature. It is some part of everything the light touches.” - Lady Gaga, 2020. “As I stare out into this beautiful room, I see optimism, I see hope, I see the future. I know that each and every one of you has the opportunity to help someone else. All you need to do is help one person, expecting nothing in return. To me, that is a humanitarian.” - Rihanna, 2020. “Race and racism is a reality that so many of us grow up learning to just deal with. But if we ever hope to move past it, it can’t just be on people of colour to deal with it. It’s up to all of us – Black, white, everyone – no matter how well-meaning we think we might be, to do the honest, uncomfortable work of rooting it out. It starts with self-examination and listening to those whose lives are different from our own. It ends with justice, compassion, and empathy that manifests in our lives and on our streets.” – Michelle Obama, 2020. “There is so much work to be done and it needs to starts at an individual level on a global scale. We all have a responsibility to educate ourselves and end this hate. End this race war here in the US, and around the world. Wherever you live, whatever your circumstances, NO ONE deserves to die, especially at the hands of another because of their skin color.” – Priyanka Chopra, 2020. “I love blackness, it is stunning, majestic, inspiring but it is also not here to serve non-black people when it suits them via sports, music, hairstyles, entertainment etc. It should be respected in the workplace and shouldn’t be ignored when it’s crying out in fear of being killed. You really want that utopian ideal of what our world could be? You want to be proudly and ACTIVELY anti-racist, more than fearing being called a racist? I want that for you too. If so, then do the work, educate yourself and others stand by us loudly, consistently, FOREVER.” – Clara Amfo, 2020. “As a mixed race woman I want to say that I too understand my privileges and will constantly strive to do better for the Black community. Those not speaking up or taking action... your silence speaks VOLUMES. You can’t play ignorance, justified by feeling uncomfortable, when Black people have been made to feel uncomfortable their entire lives in a white privileged, systematically racist and unfair society that is more than happy to benefit from Black culture, but isn’t so happy in adhering to the ideals of equality and basic human rights.” – Jade Thirlwall, 2020.
10 COUNTRIES | 24 ARTWORKS BRAZIL Sabrina Ellis
UNITED KINGDOM Zoe Robertson
CANADA Cloche D’amour
USA Amy Mirashi Antonio Betancourt Jess Bolton Rachelle DeBerry Trinity Stroud Xsavior Pettway
INDIA Abongsudeshna ITALY Mariasole Gnutti Valentina Leoni NETHERLAND Naomi Wijnhoven PORTUGAL Mariana Carvalhão Marques Nádia Borges SRI LANKA Janani Madushika Reshalee C. M. De Silva Vasi Udurawane
VENEZUELA Andrea Merinsky
BRAZIL
SABRINA ELLIS (b.2003) “When I saw this photo of Oluwatoyin Salau, a black lives matter activist that was murdered, I instantly felt drawn to it. I had to paint it. I dropped everything and for two hours straight I sketched, erased and painted. Oluwatoyin Salau was brave in speaking out and she deserves justice.”
Sabrina Ellis, 2020, Oluwatoyin Salau, Acrylic on Canvas, 18cm x 13cm 7
CANADA
CLOCHE D’AMOUR (b.2004) “What kind of world do we live in ? A world where the justice attack people defenseless. They are chained by the bad apples that rule this sick world.”
Cloche D’amour 2020, Chained By The Bad Apples, Acrylic on Paper, 23cm x 31cm 1
INDIA
ABONGSUDESHNA (b.1988) “Nature never distinguishes human by their caste or colors..so why do us? The real battle is with ourselves..with our ego and pride which makes us wrongdoer, everytime! Let the humanity go viral!”
Abongsudeshna, 2020, Dreaming Together, Photography, 106cm x 80cm 3
ITALY
MARIASOLE GNUTTI (b.2000) “In difficult times like these we have to remember that when we say that we support black people, we have to keep in mind that we have to support every single one of them, and that includes the black LGBTQ+ community members, far too often forgotten and mistreated. The person on the panther is a trans MAN. He represents the fact that having a feminine chest, long hair or wide hips will not make you any less of a man and vice versa for trans women. Your appearence doesn’t define who you are. Love yourself and the path you are walking, you are beautiful
Mariasole Gnutti, 2020, Black LGBTQ+ Lives Matter Too, Illustration, 40cm x 40cm 5
VALENTINA LEONI (b.1998) “How can you remain silent when our brothers and sisters are locked up in a world where they are not free. We are not free - and we will not be free - until we are all free.” OUR SILENCE IS A CAGE. ‘RAGE, RAGE AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT’ INSIDE A CAGE, A BIRD CAN’T FLY. INSIDE A CAGE, A BIRD CAN’T SING.
Valentina Leoni, 2020, Untitled, Acrylic on Paper, 21cm x 29cm 6
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NETHERLAND
NAOMI WIJNHOVEN (b.2001) “We all have the same heart that needs love, so give love to everyone and accept everyone for who they are. We all bleed the same color and all breathe the same air. So why are people treated differently, by a different skin color? This must be changed! Everyone is equal and should be treated like that!”
Naomi Wijnhoven, 2020, Black Lives Matter, Illustration, 24cm x 21cm 9
PORTUGAL
MARIANA CARVALHÃO MARQUES (b.1996) “Amplify their voices, be their lungs.”
Mariana Carvalhão Marques, 2020, Oppression, Illustration, 42cm x 30cm 11
NÁDIA BORGES (b.1999) “I picked racist propaganda from the 60’s and turned it into antiracist propaganda.”
Nádia Borges, 2020, Untitled I, Acrylic on Paper, 30cm x 44cm 12
Nádia Borges, 2020, Untitled II, Acrylic on Paper, 30cm x 42cm 13
Nádia Borges, 2020, Untitled III, Acrylic on Paper, 30cm x 42cm 14
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SRI LANKA
JANANI MADUSHIKA (b.1991) “If they deserve to be born, why don’t they deserve to live?”
Janani Madushika, 2020, Black Baby In Womb, Mixed Media on Paper, 30cm x 21cm 17
VASI UDURAWANE (b.1995) “A rather symbolic portrait of Egyptian LGBT rights activist and staunch feminist Sarah Hegazi, a heroine to our community who was herself to the end yet sadly was driven to taking her own life in Canada. Sarah’s final words were those of forgiveness to some of the people that subjected her to horrible tortures simply for being herself, which in some nations like the heavily dictatorial and conservative nation of Egypt, is a punishable crime.”
Vasi Udurawane, 2020, Sarah Hegazi, Mixed Media on Paper, 42cm x 30cm 18
“I have been addressing the newest plague of racism that has taken over America and in actually standing against that as an artist. I did not want the black icon in this work to be either cis male or cis female and instead I wanted Marsha P. Johnson in the piece as she was a celebrated icon and as a trans woman, lived on both sides of this sadly gendered spectrum but still imagery of her showed that infectious, million-mile-wide smile.”
Vasi Udurawane, Untitled, 2020, Mixed Media on Paper, 42cm x 30cm 19
RESHALEE C. M. DE SILVA (b.1999) “I wish i could be apart of the marches but instead I’m marching with them through my art. The injustice has carried on for so long, its time to put an end to it. To all the governments of the world, I hope you realise that we wont tolerate any form of injustice.”
Reshalee C. M. De Silva, 2020, Enough Is Enough - Black Lives Matter, 15cm x 10cm 20
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UNITED KINGDOM
ZOE ROBERTSON (b.2003) “It is a piece that showcases beauty within black culture, inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement of 2020.”
Zoe Robertson, 2020, Black Is Beautiful, Illustration, 66cmx 53cm 23
UNITED STATES
ANTONIO BETANCOURT (b.1992) “Black. Lives. Matter. It is our job as people from every background to stand up to racism where ever and whenever they encounter it.”
Antonio Betancourt, 2020, Lady Liberty, Illustration, 28cm x 20cm 25
AMY MIRASHI (b.1987) “Our country will remain broken until black and minority lives matter. Every single person is beautiful in their own unique way and deserves an equal opportunity for happiness, regardless of their skin color.”
Amy Mirashi, 2020, Liberty Has Fallen, Illustration, 12cm x 12cm 26
JESS BOLTON (b.1980) “This is Erin-Sha, the founder of the Black Burner Project; A project documenting people of color. She is wearing a hat I created a couple of years ago. My brand THAT DOME PIECE represents all people of all races, genders, cultures, expressions, etc.
@thatdomepiece
@aphotochick / @blackburnerproject Jess Bolton, 2017, Gunmetal and Roses, Upcycled Textile Design 27
RACHELLE DEBERRY (b.1991) “I’m a very quiet person, I don’t talk a lot but when something is truly important and an injustice is occurring or someone is being hurt unnecessarily I feel it is important that we, as people, work together to help those in need. Staying silent is very easy, but staying silent only allows injustices to be accepted and tolerated. This piece was my way of speaking out, of voicing how my people in America are hurting and to let people know that it isn’t okay to sit back and stay silent. Silence is violence.”
Rachelle DeBerry, 2020, Voices Of The Broken, Acrylic on Paper, 28cm x 36cm 28
TRINITY STROUD (b.2004) “Our Lives Matter is a representation of the Black Lives Matter movement implying that the lives of black lives are just as important as any other, I created this piece because I feel as a young black women in society the best way to get my voice heard was through the beauty of art and poetry”
Trinity Stroud, 2020, Our Lives, Illustration, 20cm x 20cm 29
XSAVIOR PETTWAY (b.1989)
SYSTEMIC RACISM AND CHECKED FLAGS
White sheets, it’s all planned – What they use to hide All the truths of the land While they feed us with the lies. But it’s now hell on earth As the angels descend To expose their dirt With the water that transcends. The same water that they tried So hard to contaminate Will now be applied To expose them, seal their fate. Water is very good for us, Isn’t that what they say? So, we doused the masses And revealed the light of day. - Xsavior Pettway
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Xsavior Pettway, 2020, Judge Drops His Gavel In A Racist Passion, Illustration 31
Xsavior Pettway, Systemic Racism: The Teacher Of The Education System, 2020, Illustration 32
Xsavior Pettway, The Question Of The Day, 2020, Illustration 33
Xsavior Pettway, Truth Hurts, 2020, Illustration 34
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VENEZUELA
ANDREA MERINSKY (b.2001) “Letting go and trusting the creative process with no fear. It’s unexplained because there are many symbols that mean something to me but that may mean something completely different to another person with different experiences and that doesn’t make it any less right than my vision of the painting.”
Andrea Merinsky, 2020, Into The Dream I, Acrylic on Canvas, 51cm x 41cm 37
“This is about dreaming and the incredible mind. It’s about not being afraid of risks and of being your creative self.”
Andrea Merinsky, 2020, Into The Dream II, Acrylic on Canvas, 51cm x 41cm 38
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The Correct Analogy Written by Devika Brendon
Photo Credit: Polygon
Two and a half years ago, a cyber lynching took place in Sri Lanka. To understand what I mean by this, you would need to know what lynching is, and the circumstances in which it occurs. People today are using the word ‘lynching’ to describe the murder of an African American man, George Floyd, by U.S. policemen, and it has a history which enables us to see the pattern of how it is used, as an instrument of deliberate violence, to harass, intimidate, and humiliate. It’s ritualistic and performative. It is used to dramatically enact a person’s isolation and powerlessness, when outnumbered by a gang of thugs.
Descriptor Credit: Wikipedia
I think of Tom Robinson in ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’. And the bathroom scene in ‘Ender’s Game’. I think of Andy Dufresne in ‘The Shawshank Redemption’, being systematically got at by ‘The Sisters’. Of the images sent out from Guantanamo Bay of guards positioning prisoners in pyramid forms, blindfolded and immobilised while they let the dogs out. The horrors perpetrated against Jewish and Gypsy and homosexual prisoners by Nazi guards in the 1940s for entertainment. Of Aslan in the first Narnia book, ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’, taunted and put to death by his ghoulish enemies. Of the piñatas in Mexico, where, during fiestas, lifesize dolls or animal figures full of sweets are hung up and beaten with clubs, or stabbed in the stomach, until they burst open for the benefit of the cheering crowd. There’s an overtly dramatic element in the rituals of lynching. It’s a tribalistic bonding experience. The sadism is shared, and delighted in by the perpetrators. The victim is positioned and framed in a myriad ways as an object of scorn and contempt. There is humor generated by the victim’s fear of their own imminent and painful death and their pleas for mercy are met with shouts of jubilation. While researching this, I’ve seen several photographs of people who participated in these events. Their faces broadly smiling, grinning, unshadowed by any negative feeling. Their victim tied up and gagged, trussed up in a body bag like a cocoon of cloth, hung by the neck from a nearby tree: hung high, so everyone can see. Silenced and forcibly made passive, no longer any kind of threat to those who outnumber him.
Descriptor Credit: Wikipedia
Descriptor Credit: Wikipedia
Cyber lynching is not physical. It describes the orchestrated ganging up of a group of people online, on Facebook or Twitter, attacking one person who has said or done something to which someone takes offence. In online lynching, the weapons are words. And the intended effect of cumulative comments is the equivalent of cudgels or batons on the persona of the victim. Many of these ‘events’ are participated in for fun — people joke about getting popcorn to be bystanders as if they were at the movies, and watching the performance in front of them, quite good humouredly. If there is a more sadistic or malicious intent, this becomes clear in the comments thread, especially in comments which have a sensationalist gloss, and attract multiple Likes, the trophy of the online cyber bully in their quest for viral transmission of their wit and verbal dexterity. A lot of verbal arguments take place on Facebook and Twitter. Jousting, duelling, give and take of provocation and puncturing. It’s a fair fight. But not if one party is not even there, to participate. Online lynching can take place without the victim being actually present, either in person or in words, if they are not part of the conversation in which their reputation is being attacked, and their identity trashed. So two and a half years ago, a cyber lynching took place in Sri Lanka, in the form of a Facebook post and a comments thread in which the perpetrator invited a few tagged people to participate in publicly attacking someone against whom he had a personal grudge. His visible attempts to make it go viral did not succeed, and the post was taken down by him about 24 hours after it was first posted. But because he had set it to public setting, the post and comments thread were visible on the FB platform, and were photographed in their entirety as
evidence of defamation, slander and libel. The degree of malicious intent was quite remarkable in several aspects, centered on his attempt to frame the object of his anger as someone to be avoided, and shunned, as someone unworthy of respect, devoid of value and undeserving of the dignity of social recognition. It was — at its core — an unjustified, cowardly and one-sided attack. But justice was not its aim. Lynching is not an act of justice, even in the self-justifying minds of its perpetrators. It is a brazen, blatant and explicit act of dehumanization. The person orchestrating this event was summoned and charged with malicious harassment by the police, because of the evidence in the post and comments thread. This apparently came as a surprise to him, because in Sri Lanka on Facebook and Twitter gross violations of decency are normalized and even admired, among his peers. A culture of online impunity and unaccountability for wrongdoing was prevalent. Many people felt entitled by this to act any way they wished, behind the relative anonymity of their screens and keyboards, or the safe spaces of their echo chambers of like-minded netizens. Many of the comments and responses on that post were banal and predictable. But the most interesting part about it was the perpetrator’s conscious awareness of what he was doing.
As we can see, he described the woman he was ranting against as a ‘black dude (who) wanted the KKK to join HIM’. By calling this ‘the correct analogy’ for the situation over which he was presiding, and calling the woman he was attacking a ‘black man’ attempting to recruit support from the oppressors who outnumbered ‘him’, he was knowingly equating himself and his mates with the Ku Klux Klan, those white-robed, hooded, racist vigilantes, enactors and symbols of inhumane behaviour against African American men, whom they outnumbered and killed by the hundreds in the 19th and 20thC, their criminal acts made anonymous, apparently impervious to reprimand, and rendered unaccountable by their covering, concealing hoods. The lawyers and police who read the thread found it very interesting that he described himself and his friends in such a way. Who in their right mind would voluntarily ally himself publicly on the side of the perpetrator in such a contemptible ritual? After George Floyd’s death was filmed and recorded on video, and his dying words were made available on audio recording and in text form, and started appearing on placards in protest
marches, he became an icon. Because he died, he achieved martyr status, and activists were quick to point out that the racism was not new, but that it was now being recorded, and thus impossible to deny. A few days earlier, in New York’s Central Park, a man himself had recorded on video the threats of violence made against him by a woman walking her dog, in an area of the public park where he was peacefully birdwatching. His asking her to comply with the park rules and put her dog on its leash triggered a furious outburst from her, caught on video and audio. She identified him to police on the phone as an ‘African American Man.’ Mere identification? Or racial profiling in a racist societal context, where she could frame his actions as dangerous to her merely by invoking the systemic injustice which she knew would endanger him, and which would immediately render him powerless in relation to her? The Central Park incident illuminated the workings of white privilege. But the murder of George Floyd exposed the injustice and violence of the police, and because it is seen as racialised violence, which has become routine and normalized, and because hundreds of thousands of people all over the world find it unjust, ugly and unacceptable to them, it is being used as a catalyst to channel the people’s collective anger at injustice into a global revolutionary movement. Debates about whether #alllivesmatter negates #blacklivesmatter have caught alight. People of all colours and creeds are educating themselves about racism, the ideology of white supremacy, and the destructive structures that have supported and sustained it. In an obscene defiance of this rise in awareness, there have been people on home videos shared on Facebook ritualistically recreating George Floyd’s death scene as a dramatized joke, the person playing the perpetrator laughing with his foot on the neck of the victim; the ‘victim’ writhing in a facsimile of exaggerated agony. In real life, George Floyd could not writhe in agony, because he was held down by several men and could not move or breathe. He was overpowered and immobilized. How can people who witness such planned and deliberate damage which is done to another human being, not only stay silent and observe it, but actively participate and re-enact such an event? To do this, they would have to feel disconnected from the person being targeted: to see the victim as not sharing in their own humanity, and disqualified from the entitlements to dignity and respect and safety and courtesy and sovereignty that come with it. They would have to objectify him/her, otherise them, and feel no pain — and even positive pleasure — at being a spectator of their suffering. Do any contemporary or historical analogies come to mind? If so, let’s call them what they are. And by all means, let us use the most accurate terminology.
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