Jeanne Moutoussamy-Ashe and the Last Gullah Islands: An American Tale

I admire my ancestry and the beautiful resiliency of my community to turn hardships into pride, love, and even beauty. I am a small part of this country's history and its future. I am a Black & Puerto Rican woman, with roots and lineage stemming from the South, the North, and the Caribbean all at the same time. I share an understanding that I am a descendant of indigenous peoples of the Americas, indigenous peoples of the Caribbean, and indigenous peoples from Africa who all shared a similar story of forcibly crossing the ocean to reach the coasts of Boriquen and what we now call “America”. My people survived incredible pain, trauma, and loss out of their own will. Generations later, my family and I can live and bring a legacy to my ancestors through simply existing. As much as it brings me to tears sometimes when I reflect on our history, I know I am not alone in this pain. I hate white supremacy and the way this country was built up, but I am also so grateful to be here despite it all– is that weird? 

I’m not patriotic, but I do love my Black American lineage. I was intrigued to find the Jeanne Moutoussamy-Ashe and the Last Gullah Islands exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art. Someone very near and dear to my heart is a descendant of the Gullah Geechee peoples in North & South Carolina, and I have learned so much through him and his family.

I was excited to visit her show because what is more American than the Gullah Geechee people? I am so surprised that so many do not know about them despite how much they’ve contributed to this country.

My father is from Puerto Rico, and I learned a lot from him and my family, who are based in  Loiza. Loiza is a mostly Black area and probably the most African place you can visit on the island. It was a booming port for slaves crossing the Atlantic, where Africans were shipped to the island for sugar plantations and other uses of servitude. I found that this history was similar to the history of the Gullah Geechee, as they are descendants of formerly enslaved people; however, they acquired land from white plantation owners at the end of the Civil War, eventually acquiring the land.

The exhibition is beautifully designed, with black-and-white photographs layered on the walls. Jean Moutoussamy-Ashe, the photographer behind the masterpiece, is a photographer, activist, and scholar who creates photos and dialogues on the beauty & complexity of Black life within the Diaspora. She is also a notable AIDS activist.

In 1977, Jeanne made her way to the Sea Islands coasting Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina after spending several months in college overseas in West Africa. During her time in Africa, she would spend much of her time overlooking the ocean and thinking about how turbulent the journey must have been for enslaved Africans on their way to America. Many Africans came from the Cape Coast Castle, which was used as a prison and port to be sent to the Americas. Imagine that, your blood and kin kidnapped, tortured, beaten & raped, then impriosoned and forced to be on boat for who knows how long, across an ocean to a foreign land. Many of our people did not make the trip.

When Jeanne made her way back to America, she spent much of her time on Daufuskie (D’awfaskee) Island, the only South Carolina Sea Island unconnected to the mainland by bridge. The uneasy access allowed the Gullah Geechee to keep hold of their language, culture, and customs for much of the twentieth century. D’awfaskee originates from the Muskogeon word “sharp feather,” which notes the island's tapered shape. In the early sixteenth century, the Spanish & English found themselves on the island, and by the eighteenth century, they began forcing out the indigenous Gusabo people. While they imported African enslaved peoples, many of the Gusabo fled to neighboring islands. The ensalved were led to work in the indigo and cotton industries while oyster beds fed the islanders' bellies. By the conclusion of the Civil War, white plantation owners were driven off the island by Union forces, and the land was acquired by the now freed “Gullah Geechee” people, no longer merely enslaved Africans but people who remained and cared for the island. The Gullah Geechee were able to create and build their customs, language, food, and culture.

During Jeanne’s time on Daufuskie, she developed a bond with the locals, capturing candid photos of children and elders, their homes, the shoreline, and even ceremonial gatherings like church services, graduations, and weddings. At the time of her arrival, only 80 permanent residents remained due to economic hardships caused by industrial pollution, destruction from the boll weevil ravaging their cotton crops, and real estate developers displacing locals to build resorts and hotels. This mirrors the experiences of my people in Puerto Rico, where many locals have also been forced to leave due to similar circumstances, including the surge of real estate developers and those who seek to extend their wealth on the island while avoiding taxes. The island is already so small, and its residents are already struggling, many of whom are burdened by the aftermath of Hurricane Maria and other natural disasters. However, like Puerto Rico and Daufuskie Island, the world's treasures and paradises are now being exploited as arenas for capitalism to monopolize, extort, and colonize, despite the presence of those who care for and nurture the land.

Jeanne’s photos are so beautiful. I particularly like Lavinia “Blossum” Robinson's photo. Her gorgeous smile and eyes speak to the hope and legacy of the Gullah Geechee. I learned Blossum was a matriarch of Daufuskie. Her face reminds me of my grandmother, Aida Lacen. They both have beautiful dark skin, and she sometimes wears her hair styled like Blossum’s in the picture. My grandmother is also the matriarch of my family now, which makes me even more proud to be her granddaughter.

I also enjoyed Jeanne’s photos titled “Graduation”, “Girl in Screen Door”, and “Maid in Honor with Bride in Slippers.” These images feel special to me as I feel represented by the emotions, symbolism, and attributes they evoke. 

Whitney’s Senior Curatorial Assistant, Kelly Long, organized this exhibition, which is open until May 2025. If you’re in the New York area, visit this incredibly historic and essential archive of America’s past, present, and future.

In greatness,

 Mars

References:
Jeanne Moutoussamy-Ashe, “An Oral History with Jeanne Moutoussamy-Ashe,” by Kalia Brooks, BOMB Magazine, September 11, 2014, https://bombmagazine.org/articles/2014/09/11/jeanne-moutoussamy-ashe/.

Cancel Violence: Artists Speak Projecting Peace at NCAAA

It's Black History Month, and I love being black. I love my skin, my family, and my future. This is a time to celebrate myself, my blackness, and the blackness of others.

This is also a month to commemorate and recognize the countless achievements of black folks throughout African-American history & culture. I also use this month to learn as much as I can about the African Diaspora through the principle of Sankofa, “to look forward we must look back.” Sometimes, as I reflect on our history, I feel frustrated that many of America’s past evils are present today– making me question how much progress this country has made. I mean, look at our administration right now–—it’s not cute at all.

With this frustration, I also find hope because the very fabric of our community is our resistance, our strength, and our enduring ability to create from a lack of. We represent the culture of modern America, and even though we face challenges, they cannot take away our spirit, joy, or creativity.

One organization I would like to highlight this month is ​​The National Center for Afro-American Artists (NCAAA) or what many call, “The Big Head Museum.” This museum has always been a mystery to me. Sitting on top of a hill in Roxbury, Massachusetts in one of the most historically black neighborhoods still standing in Boston– the museum has remained New England’s most revered institution celebrating the art heritage of the African-American and African diasporan cultures. Located on 300 Walnut Ave, NCAAA will be hosting a monumental event promoting social healing and gathering around the causes of violence through arts advocacy & performance. Cancel Violence: Artists Speak Projecting Peace is a part of Year Two of the UnMonumnet Transforming Boston project funded through the City of Boston in Arts & Culture. This free and open-to-the-public event will be in collaboration with Illuminus and FPoint productions comprising projected images from NCAAA’s current exhibition, Cancel Violence: Artist Speak.

Artists featured are Paul GoodNight, Rob Stull, Johnetta Tinker, Laurence Pierce, Rob “PROBLAK” Gibbs, and more. Their art explores the causes of violence and possible solutions we consider as a community. Growing up in Boston my whole life I have seen firsthand how violence specifically gun violence has been such a detriment in neighborhoods like mine in Dorchester. The fear and anxiety you develop as a young person and eventually as an adult does not leave you. I know unfortunately many of us around the country feel this pain too. This is where art comes in. Art gives us the chance to imagine a world without violence. A place of peace, a place of love, and a place where no one has to fear walking outside or being discriminated against because of where they live or their skin color. We already have to deal with poverty, police brutality, and spiritual and mental anguish that stems far beyond the issues that persist in our neighborhoods but originate in white supremacy and post-traumatic slavery.

As I said before many of the powers that be a.k.a. white supremacy, can never take away our spirit, our joy, and our creativity. This is why we need more unity, more collaboration, more hand-holding, more art, more music, just more expression in general. We need more Black educators who can feel supported and empowered to do their jobs. We need more Black mentorship for those of us who need guidance and protection.  We need more black institutions thriving and building up our communities' wealth & prosperity. We need more Black youth keeping their head up high, knowing how handsome, how beautiful, and how brilliant they are. We need more Black love. We need more black representation. We need more blackness, period.

 Fortunately, Boston is a city with many black leaders and artists who are actively doing everything in their power to uplift the needs we care so deeply about. Several museums and organizations are doing the work to engage with their audiences in sharing the various stories of black folks authentically. Please do in your will and power to protect these spaces. Visit them, support them through donations, share their resources with your comrades, and don’t let your experiences stay just with you– make sure to share the wealth of knowledge. The tactic of divide and conquer was never ours, to begin with. Let us not use the tools of the white man to build up our black community– this doesn’t make sense y’all I’m not sorry. 

If you are in the Boston area visit NCAAA on Sunday, February 23rd for this event. If you can’t make it come by to see incredible works of Cancel Violence: Artist Speak from Fridays-Sundays, 1-5:00 pm, through April 27.

In greatness,

 Mars

Witnessing the Power of Ailey

Wednesday, 1/2/25

It's New Year’s and I want to start my year off right. A friend prompted me to visit the Whitney, a museum I haven’t spent the most time in but I always wanted to visit more intentionally. I decided to go with him and enjoy two exhibitions featuring the art of Black folks that have deep roots in their communities, cultures, and perspectives.

When it comes to Black Art, I find myself becoming more and more immersed in how these artists came to be and what makes them so influential in their communities.

I decided to visit “Edges of Ailey”, the first large-scale museum exhibition of Alvin Ailey’s work and life. I will admit that I didn't know much about him and left feeling inspired by him. Of course, now I would love to go to one of his company’s productions and see the magic of his legacy live on.

Dance has always been an art form I was drawn to. As a little girl, I went to daycare right across the street from the Strand Theatre in Boston, Massachusetts. We would take ballet classes at the theatre and be invited to see many of their various plays including my favorite, the Nutcracker. I loved the theatrics and the element of performance however this became very much a short memory as for much of my young life I didn’t get many opportunities to visit the theatre much.

Alvin Ailey born in Texas in 1931, was a dancer and choreographer who once described dance as a “movement full of images”. Drawing from the inspiration of many sources of music, he and his dance company created many opportunities for Black dancers who never saw themselves being on stages that he frequented. What I find striking about what inspired him very early on was his love for Black women that he admired in his life. There were several pictures of him and his mother, friends, some of the dancers and choreographers in his company and you could just tell how much he loved them. He celebrated their strengths and he used that love as an opportunity for all Black women to have agency over their bodies whether on the dance floor or through his dance company.

His dance also drew inspiration from Black culture and historical liberation movements, evident through the artwork and films exhibited in this show. I sense the profound power and beauty he wanted to showcase. 

Curator Adrienne Edwards and the staff at the Whitney did a wonderful job with this show bringing together visual art, live performances, music, Ailey’s archives, and even recordings of his dance company, the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater (AAADT) in exploring his personal & creative life. There are more than 80 artists presented in this show. Some of whom include Jean Michel Basquiat, Romare Bearden, Faith Ringold, and Jacob Lawerence. 

What I enjoyed the most was the themes presented and the clear articulation of what histories were important to Ailey and his community which spoke to Black Spirituality, Migration, and histories of the American South, Caribbean, Brazil, and West Africa.

 Ailey was a gay black man who was born in Texas, eventually moving to New York and his presence in the dance field tested the very idea of freedom during a time of strife for many Black Americans. Like any creative industry, it was especially cruel for minorities, especially for those that are queer. From looking deeply at his archives, he truly wanted to make Black dance “universal”, sharing these stories in a non-monolithic way and also making it more accessible not only for all to see but also for all those who belong within the community itself. This was cool for me to find out because as I shared earlier, I didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy plays and live performances. Sometimes it was a costly thing, sometimes it was simply because I didn’t feel like these spaces were for me. I also felt not as interested in dance if it weren’t for music videos and or early 2000s movie franchises like “Bring it On”. I think that if I had seen a dance production, with different bodies, skin tones, hair textures, and stories that represented me I would have been a lot more inclined to pay a visit to more shows.

In 1962, Alvin Ailey created a multi-racial dance company we now know as Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. Before creating his company he had trained to be what we call a “total dancer” meaning he trained in Horton, jazz, ballet, and other dance forms as he insisted on creative experimentation. His training became the catalyst for his dancers as his works showcased all of their abilities, never staying in one box or another, and challenging the norm of what professional dance productions should look like. Some of his infamous works are the Masekela Languagein 1969 and Survivors in 1986. 

He established his dance school in 1969 and used his company to support the advancement of Black choreographers and dancers to live on. Despite how busy he was, he remained an equal presence in local public schools, community centers, HBCUS, and even international venues– providing everyone with the chance to see his beautiful work.

Ailey was extremely collaborative and saw his partnerships were a bridge to his full creative potential. I love this quote where he talks about his collaborators, “ I love the idea of people coming and working together… Start with a space, and a body or two, and we say, "I love this space.” As a person who loves community building and working within a collaborative framework, I deeply resonate. The joy of hearing others’ perspectives and it all coming together sometimes makes the process alone so much more fulfilling than the end product or project.

In this show, I also learned that Ailey was the first modern dance choreographer whose company did not perform his works exclusively. He viewed his company as a “living repository [of] classics and curiosities.” In turn, the company became a lifeline for Black dancers and choreographers. Ailey remembered his younger days as an emerging artist and wanted to give each Black dancer that same opportunity. Some of the artists he worked with and I noticed in this show were powerful & historical Black artists we all know today as Maya Angelou, Duke Ellington, and even Langston Hughes. As you go through the show you see many pictures, videos, and writings of them. Ailey enlisted a lot of artists he worked with to create set designs, musical scores, costumes, and much more. Alvin Ailey and his dancers frequented local venues here in New York like the Nuyorican Poets Cafe and Studio 54– both historical sites of exchange for the emerging Black artist community.

As I walked through I loved hearing the music of his time and what was used in many of his productions. Ailey believed music allowed an artist to express the spectrum of their feelings and experiences. As a music lover, I couldn't agree more as some of my favorite artists simply have the words to describe how I often feel without me having to say anything at all. To be honest, I don’t who or what I would be without music. Some of the music he was inspired by included gospel, blues, and jazz where his dances embody their energy to enhance its possibilities through movement.

On December 1, 1989, Alvin Ailey departed the Earth due to AIDS-related complications. He continues to live on through his company, school, and his foundation. He provided us the greatest blessing in still being able to enjoy many of his shows today that continue to be produced by his dancers and the leadership of his company–moving and shaking through today's sounds, stories, and various perspectives.

You can see this show at the Whitney through February 9th, and I recommend that you do because it truly is a great show. Go visit, pay homage, enjoy the duality of the elements presented in the exhibition, and maybe even get a ticket to an upcoming production by his company. I think you will leave deeply inspired and grateful for this incredible person, leader, friend, educator, and lover of dance that he truly was.

In greatness,

 Mars