A Line and a Curve

On embracing complexity.

SOFT LINES

This week I had the pleasure of visiting Frith Street Gallery to view an exhibition by the artist Dayanita Singh. I have known of Singh’s work since I was a child, that is to say, to me she has been famous for as long as I have been alive. It is always surprising to me that Singh considers her fame and success to be relatively recent — she has been making photographs for 40 years, and in those years has won accolade after accolade. More importantly, she has challenged what it means to be a photographer, what we mean by categories like “woman photographer” and “artist”. She has defied peers, critics, social norms and the expectations of the art world. But most importantly — she never stopped making work.

The exhibition at Frith Street Gallery is a juxtaposition of lines and curves, much like the contrast between how I see Singh’s work (a sharp ascent to greatness) and how she describes it (an unfolding or spiralling that continues to reveal new aspects).

You will see hard lines of light, stone, wood and glass that appear in architectural forms over centuries, and also in Singh’s unique way of displaying her work — light, movable wooden frames that allow infinite possibilities of arranging and rearranging the works.
And then, the soft curves of petals and paper: three photographs of flowers, taken at three separate moments of lightness and passion. The archives, as she calls them, are fragile bound pages, warped with time, moisture and history, “somewhere between the scent of a rose and a chrysanthemum”.

The exhibition at Frith Street Gallery is open until 29th June, 2024.

RESIST THE BINARIES

Continuing my exploration and study of movement, I had the privilege this week to learn from the legendary movement artist Puma Camillé.
Camillé, who is Brazilian and trans, invented a unique style that blends ballroom Vogue and Capoeira, because she saw their essence was the same: finding joy and resistance in the face of oppression.

Camillé’s path as a black, trans, queer capoerista and dancer has not been easy in a world that loves binaries, but her presence is pure radiance. For four hours this week, I watched her awaken power in bodies that were new to Vogue and/or capoeira, bodies that were shy, traumatised, frozen by queerphobia and violence. I learned to pose in sharp lines, walk like I owned the room and had no bills to pay, prowl like a cheetah, flirt, cower, act shady and finally, the piéce de resistance of ballroom Vogue — I learned to dip.

As I rose up from the ground, exhilarated and sore, Camillé laughed and clapped her hands — “B*tch you FELT that didn’t you!”

She was right. For a moment, I truly did feel like a puma on the dance floor.


More about Puma Camillé here:

And a video I have watched at least a million times, of Camillé playing capoeira with my teacher, Mestre Poncianinho: