This year our Black Futures Month centers life, well-being, and healing. BLM resident artist Pierre Bennu uses humor, music and the creative tools of childhood to consider and explore social norms. Drawing from the graffiti, sampling, and griot traditions, he works to connect discarded technologies and cultural artifacts, weaving ancestral stories into an ever-evolving future archaeology. Pierre's vision fosters a lifestyle support community that encourages us to live our most creative lives. Creativity is self-care.
Through this sampling of pieces from the series "1987" we get a visual meditation on the characters, people, and icons who populated a landmark year in the childhood of the artist.
A note from Pierre: Door Knocker
Growing up I always thought the term "door knockers" had a deeper metaphysical meaning. I figured the mind was the door and the earrings were the knockers. I remember all the magical music we ingested and the spells we cast with words that seemed to have no value outside of our tiny circle. We had no idea our collective joy and expression would inform the world. I remember the smell of wave cream and pink oil in homeroom. I remember the sound of our laughter and the gods of that era who didn't live to see today.
Peanut
Every neighborhood had a 'peanut'. Peanut was the youngest kid in the group who didn't say much but observed everything. Peanut was the quiet watcher. I remember the culture of playing outside and the tribes we made. It was an unspoken rule that peanut was everyone's responsibility. Peanut was the personification of compassion in the crew. I remember the sounds of the beads in her hair and the faint smell of bubblegum.
The DJ
"The DJ" from the series "1987". The DJ was the soundtrack of a movement. The DJ was the shaman, the religious leader. The DJ gives the preacher permission to MC. The DJ called out to you and you called back. The DJ's clergy carried crates. The DJ was the holder of the drum, the drum that unified, the drum that silenced the screams and sirens and horns. The DJ changed reality. The DJ time traveled and resurrected ancestors that left us their sounds on plates, the darkness of the many night skies between us. The DJ looked at no one. The DJ was ageless. The DJ came from nowhere and returned to nowhere like the silence between sounds. The DJ sometimes wore furry Kangol hats. The DJ made me smile.
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