Curator Evyn Bileri Banawoye on Their Debut Exhibition, Mad Black Phantasms at New York’s Picture Theory
How did you begin your journey into curation?
Curating was something I wanted to do when I first came upon the term – it fit exactly what I was attempting to do and adapted to what I studied in school. I recently graduated from NYU with a BA in Public Health and Sociology, and I wanted to approach sociology in a way that could translate to others. I thought art was an important visual tool for that. After graduating, I interned at the International Studio & Curatorial Program in Williamsburg, and that opened me up to the possibilities of where I could go. I was in the Programs department, so I got to meet many artists, give tours to residents, meet other curators, and ask questions. This year, I decided to go down the curation route instead of solely focusing on my artistic practice.
What inspired you to curate Mad Black Phantasms at Picture Theory and can you elaborate on the show’s major themes?
Mad Black Phantasms engages with Black madness as a form of radical hope and incites this hope within a larger Black liberation movement. This idea stemmed from an earlier project that I was working on when I was studying abroad in Paris and experiencing race as a Black person. The project was called Where’s Your Afro, as in where is your Black pride? There wasn’t pride about being Black while I was in Paris and I felt that was missing. The project stemmed from that and my thoughts about race in different regions of the world, my own upbringing, going to PWIs, and what I felt to be this mad experience as I attempted to verbalize that experience to other people.
When I got the opportunity to curate the show, I was thinking, what can I write and what can I make this show about? I wanted it to be relevant to what’s happening but also connected to myself, artists I’ve seen, and work that moves and activates me. Mad Black Phantasms is referenced from How to Go Mad Without Losing Your Mind by La Marr Jurelle Bruce. Diving into that book, I encountered ideas of protest art and Black madness as being symptomatic of living in an anti-Black world and what that has done for Black artists over the years. [Black artists] have been pathologized and categorized as mentally ill, when in reality, it’s a lot larger than just a single moment of someone’s mental health – there are systems at play. It also made me think of my journey with mental health and what I feel about my place in the world. I thought this was a relevant thing for a lot of Black people – especially young people who are attempting to figure out their identities.
“A big draw to curation for me is being able to create rich, visual narratives for the public to understand. I want my audience to be people who have never heard of a curator.”
How did your studies influence the direction and theme of the show?
Sociology is a huge part of how I approach research and provide that social context — it’s a huge inspiration for the kind of shows I want to curate. I think putting it [research] in a contemporary context with artists is a perfect way to make these bigger, sociological ideas accessible in a visual manner.
The premise of the exhibition is definitely relevant and impactful. Do you have anything else in the works off the heels of Mad Black Phantasms to continue the conversation?
I do, but in terms of curating a show, that’s not my next imminent goal. I have a 2025 fellowship in South Africa and that program is in tandem with The University of the Western Cape, the first university open for Black people in South Africa. I’ll be going there and studying Museum Studies for a year, so I’m really excited to dive into the more traditional parts of this path. For curation, I have some concepts and things that I’m excited to research, but this year will be more about writing and fleshing out some ideas.
How did you go about selecting the featured artists and how does their work reflect the idea of madness?
The majority of the artists were already on my radar. Pap Souleye Fall had this really great solo exhibition in Bed-Stuy last year and was on my radar since then. I never thought that I would curate him in a show – I was just a fan, but I got the opportunity to!
The entire process was really exciting for me because the concept was exciting for the artists too. The show hit on themes of Black life, death, and futurities. It also focused on the spiritual nature of resistance, especially within Black liberation, and it made me think of the spiritual elements within the Haitian Revolution and what other forms of resistance we can have. I wanted to hit on that in the show and connect to the idea of Black madness as a microcosm of social death, which is from Orlando Patterson. That was really interesting to me and I kept it in mind as I attempted to create a narrative.
Zeinab Diomande’s paintings Blurred Lines (i chased you down with an ax) and where my blame can lay and roast, are self-portraits where the artist is self-inspecting and creating a canvas for where their madness can live — I thought that was a beautiful and a really honest thing they were doing. I wanted Blurred Lines (i chased you down with an ax) to be the “air” of the show – it’s activating and there’s movement, determination, and intention — that’s what I read in that painting.
One of the other artists, Amanda Srge Lindsay, is a friend I’ve known since freshman year at NYU, so I’ve gotten to see her practice evolve and our friendship. She was one of the first people I knew I wanted in the show and whose work really spoke to it. She uses blood, hair, and urine as a commentary on censorship of the body – her piece was Carnations Kneeled at the Altar. The show also had these religious undertones with Resistance Talisman from Sophia-Yemisi Adeyemo. I love Sophia’s work and I enjoy her new pieces that document the liberation struggles happening around the world and right here.
I had come upon Tuere Lawton when I was doing research and looking for artists. I think her work is not only beautiful but also captivating and tense. Jordan Matthew is a friend of mine who I knew before he started his sculpture practice. With Homegoing and God Taught Me Math, I really wanted sculpture in the show, and I was also coming from making ceramics and wanting to be a sculptor myself, so it was important that I had works that took up space and activated the gallery. There’s something to be said about sculpture and how it causes the viewer to move around. Jordan’s sculpture served as this altar with carnations and had spiritual elements that ode to resistance.
“Sociology is a huge part of how I approach research and provide that social context — it’s a huge inspiration for the kind of shows I want to curate. I think putting it [research] in a contemporary context with artists is a perfect way to make these bigger, sociological ideas accessible in a visual manner.”
Overall, curating Mad Black Phantasms was exciting and an opportunity for the artists and me to connect to a concept that speaks to us and a larger conversation going on, especially with the election of a far-right president. I had been working on this show since August 2024, so that was something that I always knew the election was coming towards. I knew it was going to be a tense time, so I was excited to have something that was really for us. I was attempting to create a space for artists who I thought were very intentional with their work.
How did you go about curating the space so that certain pieces were in conversation with each other? Can you share an example of this?
That was the hardest part for sure. I thought I had a layout in mind, and that layout was completely different than what it turned out to be. I knew that Sophia Yamasee and Jordan Matthews’ work were in conversation and I liked their pieces not only being sculptures in conversation with each other but thematically this idea of resistance and Black labor.
I was talking to this one artist from ISCP last year, and we discussed that curating is like a dance, and when you put the works in a room, it’s like choreography. I underestimated how important that was until visitors talked about the movement through the space and how good it felt.
Can you share your thoughts around chaos as “a necessary mechanism of resistance?”
I think chaos is a part of life that we can’t get away from, but I also think it’s something that’s attempting to be repressed within systemic orders. When I think about chaos, I think about how resistance causes chaos – for example, when the George Floyd protests were happening, there was this view that chaos was occurring because of people attempting to resist and fight for their freedoms. Also, during the Black Liberation Movement, when we were fighting for our freedoms, that was seen as chaos and breaking order instead of systemic order being the chaos.
L: Jaleel Porcha; R: Jordan Matthew, Amanda SRGE Lindsay, Tuere Lawton, Sophia-Yemisi Adeyemo (Photo Credit: Carlos Hernandez Studios)
I think chaos is a part of hope because hope is action. Hope isn’t just this idea of escapism, but it’s mutual aid, organizing, bringing people together, and communicating – it’s all these things that have to be grounded.
What do you want the viewer to take away from the exhibition?
Power. In the sense of personal power and communal power, not individualistic power. I think personal power and individualistic power are different things, which I think a lot of the pieces activate in their themes.
Is there a person, project, piece of media that has impacted you over the last few months?
Music has had a huge impact over the last few months. Sinnerman by Nina Simone, I’ve been listening to that song nonstop for the past three months – it encapsulates the energy of the show and this chaotic moment. The song is just running from the minute it starts. For visual art, Naudline Pierre — she’s a contemporary painter and sculptor. I think her work is so ethereal and a manifestation of the fantasy books that I like. The third is this painting called Untitled (Crowning Moment) by Kerry James Marshall, which shows a woman screaming with a crown on. This painting spoke to me when I discovered it three or four years ago, and this was before I was really getting into art. I wanted to encapsulate that feeling in my work.
What’s something you’re proud of accomplishing this year?
Earlier this year, I really got into my ceramics practice and was able to make some pieces that spoke to where I’m trying to go with it; it truly grounded the rest of my year. I proved to myself that I can fabricate the ideas that I want to and I have the skills and courage to do so. It took a lot of courage for me to do all the things I did this year, so I’m proud that I put myself out there.
Where do you see yourself and your creative practice in the future whether that be in one year or five years?
In a year, I’ll be in South Africa finishing up my program, so hopefully learning more about what it’s like to curate in Africa and contemporary African art. In five years, hopefully curating at an institution in New York, and if it’s not in New York, then somewhere I can reach the public and do public programming. A big draw to curation for me is being able to create rich, visual narratives for the public to understand. I want my audience to be people who have never heard of a curator.
“I think chaos is a part of hope because hope is action. Hope isn’t just this idea of escapism, but it’s mutual aid, organizing, bringing people together, and communicating – it’s all these things that have to be grounded.”
Can you leave some parting advice for other artists and curators?
It’s all about community. I feel like that’s cliche, but I would not have been able to do any of this without being recommended, knowing somebody, or putting myself out there. The people around you are your best confidants, specifically those on your level — they’re exactly who you need. I’m forever grateful to my community for helping me and supporting me throughout this, especially during install because I was crazy. That saying that’s super cliche, “fortune favors the bold,” is true! That’s the air I’ve been trying to live under this year, and it’s been working. Be bold and intentional about where you’re attempting to go.
This interview with Evyn has been edited for length & clarity and was conducted in December 2024.