OCTOBER 2021- THE BLACK JOY EXPERIENCE

In collaboration with BLACK CREATORS MATTER we present The opening party for Black History Month: THE BLACK JOY EXPERIENCE

Bringing all the black creators together to celebrate black joy & creativity. The UK black community is so creative and we’ve seen it even more during lockdown with the way creators and collectives brought black joy on our timeline on a daily basis. Hence why we decided to bring together some of the main actors of the creative space for a night of unity, sharing knowledge and getting creative!
A special thanks to all our panelists: @cecephilips, @charliebcuff, @cadofo, @mrhaast, @sondliwe, @damivaughan, for their contribution. huge thanks to @_cocolom_ for the chalkboard designs, @atarodolondon for curating the exhibition, DJ @Pedrinedu fro bringing the vibes and to @lekkisuga for providing delicious canapés.

THE CONVERSATIONS

DREAMER - CHARLIE B CUFF

“BLACK JOY IS ABOUT CHANGING THE NARRATIVE”

MAKER- Dami Vaughan

“BLACK JOY STARTS AT HOME”

MAKER - CECE PHILIPS

“BLACK JOY IS CREATING YOUR OWN LANE”

SHAPER - AJ HAAST

“BLACK JOY IS IN COMMUNITY”

The Way we gather matters - community as the fertile ground for Joy for Black Joy.

An abundant future.  

Telling your own stories is the key to saving your lives - George the Poet 

In mi dun, My Joy, Black Joy is embodied 

Shoobs, the dance, 9 nights, traditional, marriage, recess, carnival, skank, wine,   jollof rice, dumplin, dancehall. 

Black joy is intentional, black joy is happenstance, black joy is sooooo rich 

Dw you’ll see smiling in the dance 

You’ll understand it my glance 

An unfiltered existence standing proud in my stance 

In my love, In my blood, In my hands 

Make space in your grasp 
So that others can hold that staff, 

Until that very last gasp 

We love you. 

In our blood, In our hands,
Dw you’ll catch us smiling in the dance 

• Black Joy as a right in our Everyday Life.

• Black Joy as healing. 

Revival. Black Joy is now. Black Joy is everywhere

What we create from our joy can economically sustain us as a community for years to come.

THINKER - CHRISTIAN ADOFO

“BLACK JOY IS IN OUR MUSIC”

THINKER - SONDLIWE PAMISA

“BLACK JOY IS IN OUR MEMORIES”

Black Joy essay -

‘you might encounter many defeats, but you must never be defeated, ever. In fact, it might even be necessary to confront defeat. It  might be necessary, to get over it, all the way through, and go on. I would teach her to laugh, a lot. Laugh a lot at the – silliest  things, and be very, very serious.’ Maya Angelou in Conversation with Bill Moyers 

First things first; to Maya Angelou and to Marvin Gaye; to James Baldwin and to Steve Biko; to Sliman  Mansour; to Nawal El Saadawi and to Abdulkareem Kasid; to Tamir Rice and to Mark Duggan; to Sandra Bland and to George Floyd; to the children of Palestine and to the mothers of Congo; and to the father of Afghanistan; and to the many more who have paved the way for this coming together of our  minds and souls, though not all have left this Earth just yet, we give thanks and in our hearts we hold  prayers of peace and of a paradise that in time we will all come to know. I present to you these thoughts on  Black Joy in honour of those who live within us, each and every day. Whose spirits guide us, and whose  shoulders we stand upon. It is because of you that we know who we are, and why we are. And it is because  of you that we know where to go.  

I grew up in a Christian family. And I don’t say this to articulate what perhaps may be imagined  by the receiver of those words, in the sense of a strict, orthodox and authoritarian environment; as we have  seen that to be an image used to portray Christianity. I say it to articulate that, in my family home, loving and freeing, and relaxed but firm when it needed to be, the presence of a higher power was there. There  was an innate understanding within our hearts, though young and naïve, of the One who created the all.  The One who knows us better than we know ourselves; and though we know ourselves better than others  say or think they do, it is from The One we are created that even what is hidden in the depths of our hearts  can be seen. 

We went to church on Sundays, not religiously as sometimes we didn’t even know if we were  going until we were awakened from a deep sleep to the calling out of our mother’s voice as it echoed  throughout the house, ‘Muka! Muka! Tanonoka kuchechi!’ (Wake up! Wake up! We’re late for church!). I  can’t lie, as a child, church was the worst thing ever for me. While all my boys were out here playing  Sunday league, I was in church for 4+ hours consistently; and if it was a big Sunday, that was your whole  day. Imagine, breakfast, lunch and dinner, all at church. My respect for church of course is there and it  was then too; although I preferred to be elsewhere, I respected it for what it was, but that was just… so  much church.  

Forgive my tangents. The way my mind works, I have to give you multiple perspectives of different  versions of myself to give you a sense of understanding into my present state of mind, because one, none of  us are one thing only; and two, without these pieces of me I offer, taken as a collective whole, we may all  get lost in a mind that never rests. Side note, I think within that sentiment perhaps we can attest to the  myriad of strands and stories that live within the things behind the things we speak on, and think and live  on etc.  

Although I didn’t understand everything, the environment of church as a consistent and stable  environment, provided me another space, in addition to my home, of intellectual thought to be examined,  all within the sensibilities of deepening my understanding of the world as guided by the tenets of spirituality  and faith. It was within this framework that I learnt through multiple avenues of the commonly shared  sentiment of, ‘in times of need, people pray and ask God for what it is they seek, but in times of triumph  and joy, the prayers are not so forthcoming in gratitude.’ As I reflect now, I wonder, what can be said of  the soul who, in pursuit of what it is they seek, does not show the humility they should, in order to give  thanks for what it is they have already been granted. Without such a trait, I wonder, how can we relate and  connect to one another as one with more similarity than difference. Ultimately, there is none but one  judgement that matters, and if you believe as I do, which I imagine you may, in your attendance; that,  there is more than this, or perhaps that there could be; it is of value to note that those sentiments are  different though one in the same, as you seek that which could be. In pursuit of that which you already hold, you begin to observe it in all you experience, and though words may fail to articulate that which you  are and feel, and perhaps desire to express, for you are far too intricate for language to weave into words,  you feel it nonetheless.  

I paint, and I write, not exclusively, but they are my chosen mediums and the vehicles in which I  best transport the ideas that through me are communicated. And I began so doing out of necessity. Art was  the first tool I could use to map out all the things that I was feeling and going through, and dissect them  and understand them, at my own pace. It was through these gifts that I came to understand that it is in  understanding that we are understood, and it was in art that I first learnt how to heal, and it was the first  place I was healed. For art is a matter of processing, the art of the world belongs to the people. And with 

intention to point to the underlying philosophy that earthly joy is, or ought to be within, I weave into my  work a mirror for people to see themselves in; and in that mirror, they are able to see parts of who they are  and parts of who I am, and where it is that I am coming from. In order to do this, I use the most powerful  tool we as humanity have; the stories and narratives we all possess in order to present the mutual co creation we all attribute to, whether we are conscious of it or not; I ask, who are we if not each other? 

Earthly joy, and I say earthly joy, as we imperfect beings are like snowflakes in the sun, soon to  dissolve back into the earth that we were once formed; and unlike the divine love of which we were  created, we are ever-changing, and we are not eternal. Earthly joy is often just beyond our reach. Denied  by racism, misogyny, physical cruelty and abuse, and by those with the class power to deny others their  share of the world’s goods and pleasures. Thus, the work that is tasked of us must not be founded on the  emptiness of material accumulation, but on joy in openness to people, places, the sensual pleasures of food,  and the rewards to be had from the arts of word, sound and visual enticement; in short, a great hunger for  life. 

The San people of Southern Africa, often referred to as Bushmen or Basarwa speak of two types of  hunger. There is the Great Hunger and there is the Little Hunger. The little hunger yearns for food for the  belly in order to satisfy the obvious purpose of our bodies needing to be fuelled; and there is the Great  Hunger, the greatest hunger of all, as it is for the hunger for meaning. 

A spiritual expression of fierce anger against injustice, but also the irrepressible sense that one  cannot help but love people for their humour, oddity, generosity, and resilience of spirit. When you begin  to see the possibilities of art, you desire to do something really good for people, to help humanity free itself  from its hangups.  

In order to continue in this paradoxical state of the world with a semblance of sanity and  humanity, we must be of continual support to one another in both moments of defeat and joy.  Like you, I love joy - because it is not an active passion. It is not a static state of being. And it is not  satisfaction with things as they are. It is part of feeling power and capacity growing within yourself and in  the people around you. A feeling, a passion that comes from a process of transformation and growth. It  does not mean that you are satisfied with your situation. It means that you are active in accordance to what  your understanding tells you to do, and what is required by the situation. So, you feel that you have the  power to change, and you feel yourself changing through what you are doing, together with other people.  It is not a form of acquiescence to what exists, but rather a form of infinite possibility.  So, when we speak on black joy, and in particular, what that phrase means, we examine it closely in  similarity to the ways in which we examine the phrase, black lives matter. And we pose the questions offered  to us within these phrases of, why is it necessary for us to include a racial element to such phrases. Surely, all  joy matters just like how all lives matter (…okay). That is not, nor has it ever been in contention. No one person  using these phrases is attempting to claim that black lives or black joy matters more than any other form of joy or life. There is no attempt to usurp the myth of superiority as it stands. There is only a fact, a tautology  being stated. Something that is true and will always be true. We are simply making the assertive affirmation  of that which obviously matters but, in the world we live today, and the states and systems we exist within,  and attempt to make our lives what it is that we wish; that which obviously matters, holds less value to  those running and profiting from these states, systems and institutions. An assertive affirmation that not  only continues the work of instilling a sense of worth in those it reflects, but one that represents the  importance of that same worth and value being known by those who are not of it but are.  In examining a phrase such as black joy, again, we pose the same questions offered to us within such  phrases, such as, when has black joy not been a thing for us to be concerned with. And again, like the  phrase black lives matter, we find ourselves in a continual paradoxical state of being, in which we are  confronted with defeats sustained and continually sustained, and unreconciled, that within contain vital  information required to overcome such defeats and to go on, able to laugh, a lot, at the silliest things, and  still be very, very serious.  

There are things you cannot not know, and so when it comes to history, in particular, the history  of black people or black people in the U.K., there are things you cannot not know. In order to have a  complete understanding of where you are situated in your own present moment, you have to locate  yourself in relation to some parts of history. As history is a matter of the present, more so than the past, you  understand your present as the result of what your past has presented. However, it must be known that a  complete understanding of one’s situation and life is not possible, as one learns the irreducible price of  learning in understanding; that being that you do not know. One may go further and point out, as any  scientist, or artist will tell you, which we all are, that the more you learn, the less you know; but that means  that you have begun to accept and are even able to rejoice in, the relentless conundrum that is your life. 

There is no single image of joy, just as there is no single black image. There are only prevailing  ideas that influence everyone all over the world to which, black people have been, and are, contributing.  Each person paints out the life they live. And you must see how your own socialisation, behaviour and  choices are complicit with multiple systems of oppression. The fact that racism, patriarchy, class  domination and so on, are systemic means that no one of us are exempt from these dynamics.  

We are born free and therefore freedom is a birth-right not to be disputed. As we grow older and  begin in the miseducation the conditioning of our upbringings in this world provides, we lose sight of  ourselves and who it is that we are, and how it is that our joy takes shape. By the time the systems come  into play, as it all begins at home, how we have been loved has already set the tone for how it is that we will  respond and manoeuvre within. In our miseducation we will know our demise, but in our re-education, we  will learn our reprise. 

GALLERY