This article is part of Hyperallergic‘s Pride Month Seriesfeaturing an interview with a different emerging or mid-career transgender or non-binary artist each weekday throughout June.
“Sometimes people don’t believe something exists until they see it.” The words of Brooklyn-based non-binary artist D’Angelo Lovell Williams reverberate in their photographs, which often depict queer black people – including the artist himself – in settings and situations that invite reflection on the specific existence and individuality of subjects. “Lovers(2017), for example, titled in reference to René Magritte’s painting of the same name, depicts Williams and a former partner in an embrace reminiscent of surrealist composition, their faces covered in black durags worn upside down. Perhaps best known for his photographic work, the artist is far from limited to a single medium or mode of expression; recently they have taken to weaving to translate photo-based portraits into yarn, reconfiguring their poetic meaning within the context of craftsmanship and family tradition. The interview below explains the commitment to compassion and collective knowing that underpins Williams’ practice, bringing us even closer to their vision of intimacy and queer nuance.
Hyperallergic: What is the current orientation of your artistic practice?
D’Angelo Lovell Williams: Much of my work is built around my relationship with my own body and the performance of everyday life and imagination. Recently, I have used photographs that I have taken as well as family photographs as source material to create woven portraits. I grew up in Jackson, Mississippi, drawing and painting from life, sculpting, making ceramics, throwing pots on the wheel, and printmaking before photography became my medium of choice. After focusing on making photographs for a while, I felt the need to incorporate mediums that allowed me to experiment more concretely. I redrew in general because I was a little rusty, but more specifically for the weaves, which don’t need to be extremely detailed drawings at this point. These recent weavings, made of cotton and acrylic yarns, are small but mighty. My weaving was inspired by my interests in contact, intimacy and kinship, as well as ideas of nurturing and nurturing. I like the idea of creating images from scratch.
H: In what ways, if any, does your gender identity play a role in your experience as an artist?
DLW: I feel like I exist on a spectrum and I like to see my work from that same perspective. My grandmother, who died in 2021, made crochet clothes, quilts and blankets before I was born. I learned nothing from her while she was alive. Inspired by others who love textiles and tailoring, I just learned how to use my sewing machine from my best friend. As someone who identifies as non-binary, it can be difficult to determine how I show up in my life and what shows up in work. The hard part is questioning what other people expect of me as a person based on what someone sees in my work.
I enjoy extending the narratives of darkness and homosexuality through the lives of my loved ones. Whether I’m photographing, working with video, or doing weaves, the way I feel in my own body comes through in these works. I have a photo called “Granny and Paw Paw’s Guns” (2021), for example, where I stand outside my grandmother’s house wearing this long black Wales Bonner dress and proudly holding my grandparents’ guns with resilience. In another image titled “Like the wet lotus floating from the fertile soil of the Nile, burying yourself was never an option” (2022), I’m standing on a stool in a bathroom wrapped in this blue African washcloth . I’m covered in foam that allows the washcloth to cling to my body like a robe.
Sometimes people don’t believe something exists until they see it. I love merging those worlds and lives that I find static and unchanging in people’s minds. It could be referring to nudity, literal and figurative gestures, clothing or materials that I use to suggest softness or hardness, or performance. So far my weaves have been portraits of family and friends, but I am starting to do more narrative and dynamic weaves as are my photographs and video work. I always think of stories of black queer community and loneliness that are nostalgic and ancestral, but also exploring the science of intimacy.
H: Which artists inspire your work today? What are your other sources of inspiration?
DLW: Some of the visual artists that inspire me right now are Sanford Biggers, Wangechi Mutu, Diedrick Brackens, Deana Lawson, Derek Fordjour and my friends Clifford Prince King, Rashad Royal, Kiyan Williams, Hugh Hayden and Jarvis Boyland. I am inspired by their attention to detail and their use of mediums and materials. I am inspired by their imagination and their apprehension of reality.
I have been inspired by many textiles and weaves almost every day. I love looking at different weaves and all things woven. Currently, I am sifting through inspirations and living them. It’s not just active work and my daily life involves a lot of recreation in nature or indoors. I try to see exhibitions regularly and support my friends by showing up at their activities. I always listen to music, watch all kinds of movies, or see a Broadway show when I can. I like to sing for fun and I like having people who can sing around me, haha. My cousin, Anastasia Talley, the only member of my family in New York, is on Broadway in MJ: The Musical. I got to see her play Katherine Jackson last year, but I rarely see her because she’s so busy. She is always such an inspiration. Many come from afar, but it’s good to have some who are accessible. I think when my inspirations merge, I feel more alive. Theatre, music, dance, cinema and fashion are constantly on my mind.
H: What are your hopes for the LGBTQIA+ community right now?
DLW: There is no hope for us, haha. But honestly, I hope that our wants, needs and desires will be fulfilled during our lifetime. Ideally, we can help where we can and seek help when we need it. I also hope that we can live without judgment and judgment.
