Trauma Rollercoasters

about the effects rhythm has on our bodies. Leandre and I got into discussing what it is like to exist at the intersection of blackness, queerness, and womanhood identities which are all typically politicized by audiences and critics, and the

process of producing art in this incredibly difficult time. Since it's the start of Pride, I am sharing my entire interview with Leandre Lesore with all of you today, and you can hear many more like this, including the next featured artists in the Open Call series, by supporting me on Patreon at patreon dot com slash woke af Enjoy, folks. I am so excited that I'm having the opportunity to welcome so many amazing black artists to woke a f daily.

I am very excited to introduce you all to Leandra Lassour, who is an artist that celebrates blackness, contemplates the experience of invisibility and seeks to dismantle and reclaim stereotypes surrounding black female identity, among other subject matters, and has an upcoming exhibit entitled there Is No Movement Without Rhythm. Leandre, thank you so much for making the time to join Woke A f I want to open up with first

asking how are you feeling these days? You know, I think that I will say that as a black queer woman living in America over the past year and a half has been a series of trauma roller coasters. Living as black and queer and female in this body for my entire life has been a journey of joy, resilience and the purpose and desire to take up space. And so, what has it been like creating this body of work for you during these incredibly trying times? Yeah, no, thank

you for that question. It feels like a check in, and I will say that it's been rough. I mean, you know, we talk about the things that happened last year, but I think there needs to be well there. I feel like there is a realization, especially probably for you as well, that this has been going on for some time. I mean, you know, since I was a little girl.

I can you know, think about and talk about specifically about moments where I've felt this kind of extreme displacement and not necessarily understanding my place in the world and how I could exist freely. So the creation of this work, for me, and I mean all of my artwork, to be honest, has been a way for me to process, has been a way for me to appeal, and has been a way for me to kind of make a mark and make a place in the world for myself

and provide myself a way to amplify my voice. So it's been tremendously Even though we're right now going through some really rough times in the world, the making work and being an artist right now has been for me kind of a sign of hope and also just for me a tremendous like lift in my spirit. So I'm grateful for that, you know that way of just speaking in terms of making art, I have always been a person that has deeply appreciated art, but specifically art created

by black artists. I know that for some they really push back against the inherent politicization of black art by just by virtue of being black. Our art is seen as a body politick. What is your feeling about that, about being viewed as a black artist or for your work because it looks at the black female identity, which we know has traditionally been what the mule of America, right, the workhorse of the world. How do you understand the politics of the art and the art itself. Yeah, no,

that's a great question. It's interesting because for so long, a lot of people used to tell me, you know, my work was specifically speaking about identity politics in this way, and I used to kind of shy away from accepting

that or claiming that. And it wasn't until I started reading works or excuse me, the Kombahi River Collective their statement on identity politics, and they actually coined that phrase in a way where I was like, you know, this is something that I don't need to shy away from that, I don't need to not claim this is a part of who I am and just by my mere existence, this is something that I'm speaking to and so within my art I believe, I truly believe as an artist like I have to be in a lot of ways

political and what I'm speaking on it is inherent to my existence as a black queer woman to continue to talk about those things, and even if I'm not directly speaking about it, are within the works directly speaking about it. I'm talking about the things around it, the things that you know, have kind of allowed me to see myself in a certain way and the ways in which I've

been able to navigate that. And so by me processing that within my own work, maybe that is allowing someone as a viewer to start to grasp their own processing and maybe even build their own tools on how they

can also navigate the politics around just being black. M There was a question that was asked by a white anti racist trainer and she had asked that, you know, this is back in the nineteen seventies, and forgive me because I can't remember her name at this particular moment, but she asked a room full of white people, right, you know, if they believed in racism, and I'm sure you've seen this video the clip, and they, you know, they're like no, no, no, And then she's like, okay,

so would you want to be black for a day and raise your hand? And none of them raise their hand, right, And so there has always been this sense that there is a profound grief that is associated with our blackness, and yet for me, I feel like there is a supreme radiance that is attached to our blackness and that you will never find a community of people that is

steeped in more grace. Right, how do you understand or are able to articulate through your art the balance of the joy and the trauma and the gradiations in between of what it means to be black? Yeah, that was something I had to ask myself early on. I felt like my work had a lot of this inherent rage in it because I was speaking directly from from experience.

And when I talk about experience, a lot of people ask, well, what are the like major things that you've experienced in terms of trauma that have allowed you to have these kind of lived experiences that have brought on this rage.

And for me, it wasn't about necessarily these big moments or big events that took place, But like you said, there's this collective memory that is within our bodies, and our bodies kind of keep that and I had to really understand like how my body was like taking all of these like ways I was seeing myself through media, visual media, and just like through the news cycles and

all of these projections. Even though it wasn't directly onto me or directly said to me, or me directly experiencing it, it was something that collectively was part of my memory of who I am as a as a black person, And so I had to tell myself with them the creation of my art, you know, I can't if I'm speaking about that. I can talk about that trauma, but am I perpetuating this cycle of violence and trauma by

creating work that directly talks about that? And so for me it was about, Okay, well, then how do I

create that balance? And so I started thinking about the other parts of my life that people don't necessarily see or hear about or understand, you know, like black love and black joy, and how radical that is in moving us and creating this buoyancy where we can exist this rage, but we can also, like you said, radiate and have this beauty and this grace amongst us that really allows us to live and to process how we exist, but to also just like exist and thrive in the way

that we are with everything that happens amongst us. So for me that was really important, and I think right now, to be honest, in the core of what my work is, I'm thinking a lot about we intake violence every day on such a high level, and so how are we not just as artists, but as human beings, how are we taking those things that are violent and looking for ways to transform that into something that we can take on and still be able to move forward with our

own potential and create spaces that really make room for this kind of peaceful foundation or make room for this like meditative process where we could really bring joy back into our lives. And that's been at the core of my practice, is really thinking about that transformation that's happening within myself. But then whatever I touch, whatever I create, I can push that out into the world as well.

I love that so much. My mother is a yogi and onto a yoga studio here in New York, and she talks to me constantly about not taking in the negativity that we experience in the world as black people,

as women on a cellular level. And I remember the first time that she said that to me, like, do not take this in, Danielle, your rage and your angst, do not allow it to attach to your cellular level, because then that is what your body will produce, right, And it is about moving outside of living in this fight or flight space, right, which is honestly pretty much

the two alternatives that the world presents to us. And I feel like, but through music and through art and through dance and through so many different mediums that we're able to imagine, to dream and create something that is outside of what society is saying. You can either fight to the death or you can flee. And we're like, well, what if you float? What if you imagine? What if you dream? Talk to me about music and about the creation of this music around West Africa in vibes vibration

and why that spoke to you. Yeah, And I love what you just said about this imagining because I think that that happens when I'm in the space where I'm listening to music and I'm listening to certain beats and rhythms.

Music has been a huge part of my practice for some time, and I've always been questioning, well, like, why do I always come back to particular sounds and particular rhythms, And that brings me to this space where I can really feel and experience those feelings and have really moments with whatever I'm trying to process. So I started looking at specific artists, jazz artists in particular that I, you know, love and that I've been listening to since I was

a little girl. And one artist in particular, Pharaoh Sanders, was someone that you know, I have like all of his vinyl records. Was listening to all of his music and started doing a lot of research on where a lot of the different sounds, like the symbol he was using, and why was he using all of these different instruments

together in this kind of ensemble. And there was a kind of connection to Western African tradition and music with Nahwa traditions, And so I started listening to Nahwah ceremonies and music, and all of the instruments that they were they were using were instruments that I found not just in Pharall Sanders work, but in other jazz musicians work

like Archie Shep for instance. But then also thinking about like the house music and how kind of those symbols and sounds were reverberating as well, and then even with Black gospel and thinking about these ceremonies, how they take place, and how voices amplified those were all things that were just kind of coming along through this research I was doing, and so I started thinking about the ways in which I was using music and how all of those different

forms of music were very influential in how I processed my own feelings and the the ways that I reimagine the spaces that I was in. So I was like, this is something I need to translate into a work so that someone can also experience this in the same way I'm experiencing it. And that's where this project came about.

You know, there's no movement without rhythm. Thinking about all of these different sounds and rhythms and how they have this really beautiful way of transcending us to another space, and also thinking about a part of the project that

I'm working with. There's this kind of clip that I put in from Sunraw where he's talking about this process of us being not real, you know, our body's not being from here, but also like our spirits not being of this place, and that being a way for us to kind of expand, and in that expansion, that being a way for us to fully feel present with who we actually are. And so I think about this form of music and the way that the sounds kind of trans and it brings us outside of this physical vessel

into another realm. And in that realm, we're able to fully expand and fully understand who we are and have the space to actually exist freely. And for me, that feels very profound and very radical. When we're thinking about this idea of care, and we're thinking about this idea of love, and we're thinking about the ways in which we can inhabit joy, all of those things feel like they are necessary and really really processing that you just

spoke to my whole soul. You just spoke to my whole soul, because all I have been saying to friends is that I need for What I miss the most during this pandemic time is live music. I miss. I miss what it feels like to experience beats and rhythm and base penetrating through you as a collective. And when you talk about house music like so for me, and everybody knows this about me, particularly my neighbors that live downstairs, how much how much gospel house music speaks to my soul.

And I think about it because I think about our bodies being made up primarily of water. I think about the vibration about how why we undulate in certain ways because of the vibrations and how they connect to our bodies, which are these bodies of water. And I think about

that often. And what I've been talking about a lot on WOK A F two and you you spoke about this in terms of expansiveness, in terms of not being of this vessel, is that I've been talking about times of trauma and how they break us open, and that in order to expand, something must be broken open to create more space. Cracks aren't just about this dismantling of this perfect thing, this perfect vessel, but it is about breaking open and the cracks allowing there to be flow right.

And I think about where the opportunity is that we are currently living in, in all of the obstacles that we are going through, about moving from this kind of container where all people weren't equitable, all people can't fit, and breaking it open, and what would it mean to create a mosaic instead where you're honoring the shattered pieces, where you're honoring all of the pieces right. But in a mosaic all things can fit right because there is so much more space that's been created outside of the

origination of the vessel. So when you set all of those things, I'm like, there's like all of these images going through my head, you know, thinking out rhythm and how we move together as a collective. What are you hoping that people walk away with after experiencing your art? What are you hoping that they gain from this installation,

from this work? Yeah, I think the main thing for me is I really like to think of a lot with my work about this idea of confrontation, but not a confrontation to in any way make someone feel uncomfortable. A confrontation to really question your presence and question within that presence if you're really seeing and if you're really listening and not just what we look at surface level, but a deep seeing in a deep listening. And I think for me it's really important because within a lot

of my work, I'm the main subject. I'm at the forefront, and for that reason, it's because I'm confronting, you know, the image that has been projected onto like who you think I should be, who you claim me to be, But this is who I am presenting myself as. And with that, I know I'm also carrying the identity of so many other people that came before me, but also so many other people that are here right now with

me in my community. You know that that carry the identity of blackness, that carry the identity of queerness, and also that carry the identity of womanhood. And so with the work, I'm hoping that people actually are confronted and they question their ways of seeing, they question their ways of listening. And with that questioning, they also kind of challenge their their privilege. Whether they're black with or they're white, it doesn't matter about race, but challenge that inherit privilege

that we all have within us. And I feel like for me that's really important because with that challenge that could really bring people to within themselves kind of break open, allow for an easier flow in connection with someone else, and that can open up this you know, this connection and threat of empathy, and that for me is really really important within the work I'm creating. Have you found that during this time your creative process because of the

times that we're living in, has it shifted? Has it been different? Have you noticed ways in which you are experiencing and expressing this art. If you had created it in twenty nineteen or twenty eighteen, it would have been different than it is now. Yeah, I mean to be honest, I think with everything that's happened with the pandemic, we have slowed down quite a bit. And I feel like a lot of the work I've been creating for a while now, I've always been thinking about, like, how are

people taking this in? Like I'm really forcing you to kind of slow down and take it in, and I'm confronting that as well. And I feel like with the pandemic, because people have slowed down, I feel like people are a little bit more, They're not reluctant anymore to do that, And for me, that's been and really nice to see that kind of transition happened. So I feel like it is a little bit changed in that way, But outside of that, the context of it has always been the same.

You know. I've always been speaking directly, you know, to who I am directly to, you know, these different modes of blackness, in the various ways of being black, and that has never changed. And so I just think the way that people are taking in and listening and seeing has maybe adjusted quite a bit based on the pandemic and based on this idea of us all as a collective community slowing down. Do you have my last question

for you? Although I feel like genuinely I could speak to you for there for a very long time, do another one later? Right, I'm like, what are you doing? Do you find yourself as you've been navigating this space, creating this body of work, but given the headlines, the things that we have been inundated with over the past year, do you feel yourself in a more hopeful and faithful place or or not. I'm gonna be honest, I go

through waves. Um. You know, there are days, there are times where I feel very hopeful, um, and I feel very at ease and at peace where I'm at as

a singular, you know, individual, um. But then there are days where I really really feel the weight of my community and the things that are crushing, um, you know, crushing all of us, you know, through everything that's happening, and not just my community, like my Black community, but thinking about people in all different communities going through things and the struggle that is just like the struggle that

is just there. Um. And so for me, like again, you know, like I said earlier on the call, um, this outlet, for me, the creation of art has been really really helpful um in in processing that, and it's been helping me get through these kind of waves of back and forth worth of feeling down but then also having these moments of feeling really radiant and high and high off life. So I feel like that's always going to happen. You know, who's going to be going through things.

We're always going to be kind of going through these struggles. But I think at the end of the day, I've always been kind of looking to the people around me, my family, my friends to really help me in processing that,

and that's been a beautiful thing as well. Well. I have such deep gratitude for artists, for creators, for dreammakers like yourself who help us articulate within your mediums how we're all feeling right and reminding us that we're not alone and that there is still beauty in the world with the amount of pain and trauma that we are living through. Please tell folks when your work premieres, when they can see it, and where they can see it. Yeah, So there is no movement without rhythm. I'll be at

the shed. June fourth was the opening date and it will be up until August early August, and I'm very excited for it. There also will be a performance in the works, so I'm also very excited for that live aspect and having people experience that as well. Well. I'm excited to live at the Shed this summer. That's apparently what I'm going to be spending my time. I'm doing because there are so many phenomenal works to see. Leandre list Seur, thank you so much for making time to

join wok F. Appreciate you. I appreciate you so much. I appreciate this. Thank you. Leandre's comments about our deep and sexual connection to rhythm touch my spirit and I

hope it touched yours as well. Please let me know what you think of my conversations with these creative minds by getting at me on social media at D two sets D E two c E nts and once again, you can hear more conversations like this, including next week's open call artists right now by joining woke a F Nation over at Patreon at patreon dot com slash woke af.

By having these discussions at the intersection of art and activism, I hope to expand the meeting of what it means to be woke and to practice wokeness in our lives as we head into the summer, Get out there if it's safe where you are, feel the music and let it awaken something in you. Power to the people and to all the people. Power. Get woke and stay woke as fuck.