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Life Moment Updates

1/20/2014

Amiri Baraka Memorial (Johannesburg, South Africa)

I’ve been invited by the Department of Arts and Culture (South Africa) to participate in memorial services for Amiri Baraka on Wednesday, January 22nd 2014. I was first introduced to his plays Dutchman and The Slave as an undergraduate theatre major at Southern University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It was a pivotal moment in my development as an artist and a young black man. His words had the power to reveal the weight of history in a contemporary moment. Many years later I would perform Dutchman in Johannesburg South Africa and found his work just as potent in this post-apartheid context. The relevance of his work unfortunately continues to strike chord in a world were liberation and freedom are still being fought for in every corner of the globe. It especially rings true for those whom he first sought to educate and unshackle. He wasn’t content to write from his corner of Newark, but was one of the key architects and drivers of the Black Arts Movement. A movement that harnessed the power of artist to liberate, educate and empower Black people during the civil rights movement and beyond. The seeds that were planted during the Black Arts Movement continue to bear fruit in my work as a commercial artist and as an Artivist (Artist + Activist). I’m honored to add my voice to the many that are celebrating his life and legacy. Thank you Amiri Baraka aka Leroi Jones.

WE ARE HERE in Tembisa

First Tembisa workshop (December 2014)

Since being back in South Africa I’ve jumped head first back into We Are Here! On February 1st, 2014 we will conduct our second workshop with TX Theatre Productions located in Tembisa. The company is comprised of young men who devise socially and culturally relevant theatre. I will be co-facilitating the workshops with WAH ambassadors, Abel Mokwevho and Simphiwe Makapela

The Hunting of the Snark at the University of Michigan

From May 17th -24th , 2014 I’ll be at the University of Michigan participating in a workshop and lecture demonstration performance of The Hunting of the Snark. The piece will be directed by Anita Gonzalez. It’s an exciting process that is allowing me to work within an ensemble while exploring movement based devising, traditional storytelling and projection mapping!

Witch Woman Speak

10/16/2013

I awoke that morning early...too early. The sun wise thinking to rise, night still tucked under his chin. I imagined he lay there listening to the steady sound of distant planets rotating through space...a sound akin to the swish of naked pirouettes on silk. He listened to inner rumblings and tiny explosions resonating from deep within....a celestial meditation hour. It was at that moment that I propelled myself from bed intent on active brain and diving into one of several incomplete something's that niggle at the base of my brain. Somewhere between the computer starting and intention she popped into my head. My finger dialed on instinct, not a surprised to me. Connected we jumped down the rabbit hole. She three more hours awake than I...i called to...just for...because...there's no rhyme or reason no purpose of the season. I called because I could. Company charges a thing of the past, no roaming, long distance or anytime minute concerns. We shared greetings and new things. Caught up on gossip and how you feeling now. Shifted from morning pleasantries and settled into the meat of our lives. Then a shift...a spot light...focused on my Oregon fellowship...a communing of art and man. "Tell me about you, oh love of mine" caught by surprise,but needing to unwind I launched into truth talk about this magical time. She paused me as she loosed her witch work and unraveled my mind, spoke to my spirit and channeled the divine. She spoke me and stroked me. Released me on my way. Affirmed me, bibled me and told me what the goddess had to say. I closed my eyes, sat inside and let it all wash over and through...blessings to start my day. I rose shook it on...locked the best of the best in place. That's the kinda start I welcome to everyday.

Gratitude Goddess, gratitude!

The OSF Bubble

10/15/2013

I arrived in Ashland, Oregon a few days before the start of my fellowship. My intent was to allow myself time to becomeacclimated to the town before immersing myself in the world of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (OSF). I recently just finished an MA in Applied Theatre where developing a consciousunderstanding of the community within which one works and lives had been drilled into us. I found Ashland to be a small, but cosmopolitan in its amenities. I also found its inhabitants to be warm and genuinely curious about the outsider. Its geography is protective, beautiful and inviting. The combination of inviting folks and inspiring environment encouraged me to be open to strangers and long for aimless walks. By the time I started my fellowship I was ready to see if my broader Ashland community observations would extend to the bubble of OSF. I found the company to be a fair reflection of the community within which it resides. My co-workers are an interesting blend of disciplines and originate from locals across the US. Their common denominator seems to be a love of theatre and a passion for OSF.I didn’t quite know what to expect of the fellowship in terms of my daily duties, but came open to whatever the experience would require of me. My first day included an orientation by the fair program manager, a thorough mind boggling tour of the OSF campus and lunch with my fellowship mentor. The lunch was a candid and relaxed dialogue that outlined expectations, responsibilities, and communication styles/systems and brought into focus a kindred spirit. My experience at OSF has been an ongoing recognition of like minds who truly believe that theatre has the power to impact lives. During my graduate studies there was often discussion about the inability of theatre to be both commercial and revolutionary. I maintained that it can and on some levels it must in order to be self sustaining and viable. I’m glimpsing at OSF that possibility in action as strong leadership seeks to find a balance between theatre that is entertaining, commercial and transformative. I’ll keep watching and probing and examining to see how this experiment unfolds.

Carnival and Jouvert: A Repository of Spirit, Community and Culture

9/13/2013

Carnival and Jouvert: A Repository of Spirit, Community and Culture
by Antonio David Lyons

Originally featured: September 13, 2013 by TheBurtonWire

Carnival is a major celebration throughout the African Diaspora. Ladies participating in Carnival in Trinidad. (Google Images)

It was a beautiful crisp day. A perfect sky absent of clouds and filled to the brim with the deepest blues. It hung so full of itself that I felt like I could just reach up and touch it. There had been many days that I’d felt that way since moving to Johannesburg, South Africa.

Today was a special day because Carnival had arrived once again!

In 2005 the city of Johannesburg initiated a new Carnival season in hopes of uniting the city and channeling the explosive pent up energy of some its more volatile communities. The Carnival route wound its way through several of the city’s most densely populated communities, which happen to be located in and around the Central Business District (CBD). I’d skipped the actual parade and made my way directly to its end point in the Newtown Cultural Precinct in the heart of downtown Jozi (Johannesburg). I heard the crowd before I saw the hundreds of people enjoying the afternoon sun, loud music and each other’s company.

…cowbells, whistles, horns
piercing the dawn,
Junkanoo man,
I love how you move
up Bay Street
to the tantalizing throbs
of the goombay drums!*
*Excerpted from JUNKANOO MAN poem.
copyright (c) L. Cousins 1997

I walked through the throngs devouring painted faces and fantastical wings. I soaked up soul deep laughter, music and dancing feet. I made my way towards where the bands were loudest and joined the curious crowd in exploring larger than life floats that did their best to honor the carnival crafting traditions elsewhere in the world. I enjoyed the moment but I was left disappointed and confused. This wasn’t Carnival as I knew it to be. I was searching for something more familiar. I was missing more than the intricate costumes and steel pan of the West Indies and the Caribbean. I was missing the sense of history and purpose that makes Carnival such an extraordinary experience. I was missing the weaving of culture and spirituality that together create a communal transcendence beyond the challenges of the everyday.

I grew up in Carver Ranches in an unincorporated neighborhood in Broward County, Florida. My address said Hollywood, but us locals referred to the place we called home as simply the Ranches. Today that community has been incorporated and is now officially known as the City of West Park. The community was created primarily by Bahamians and their descendants who are incidentally the oldest immigrant population in South Florida.

Bahamian immigrants arrived in the early 1800′s bringing with them the skills that built the first hotel in The Coconut Grove section of Miami, traditional foods, the ringing of steel pan and a carnival tradition called Junkanoo. I grew up attending carnival celebrations with its steel pan and Goombay drum fueled calypso, vendors frying up conch fritters and doling out conch salad, costumes of paper mâché and bodies dancing through the streets. My mother’s family is from the Bahamas and our home was always filled with the smell of culture as food and stories of time spent at “home”. To the outside eye carnival was a time for fun, but for us it was also the expression of cultural roots and historical legacy.

Often when immigrant populations are transplanted elsewhere they carry with them the portable parts of traditions and culture with them. This transference of essential cultural markers helps to maintain a sense of identity for the individual and a sense of continuity for the community. Sometimes the original form or practice may change as the years go by and elders pass away. However the remnants remain and if connections with “home” are maintained a sense of authenticity will shine through.

Junkanoo, similar to other Carnival traditions in the West Indies and Caribbean was a way for slaves to perform identity. They often coincided with Christian religious festivities, which offered the rare reprieve from work and an opportunity to celebrate African traditions and subversive practices hidden in the pageantry and abandon of Carnival. The abolishment of slavery and independence from colonial rule allowed for Carnival to be endowed with a greater expression of national pride and an honoring of historical heroes.

This past Labor Day, I was able to allow history to rise in my blood along with the breaking of the day. I hopped on a train around 1am and made my way towards Brooklyn, the epicenter of West Indian and Caribbean culture in New York City.

Jouvert celebrations were calling and I was intent on “acting bad on the road”! It had been over ten years since I had been able to participate in carnival activities grounded in my cultural context. Jouvert , means breaking of the day and is taken from the carnival traditions of Trinidad. While the term is unique to Trinidad the practice of rising in the night, imbibing of spirits, communal gathering, raising voice in song and instrument, replacing everyday garments with transformational garb and bearing witness to a new you birthed into a new day is characteristic of carnival celebrations throughout carnival cultures.

Jouvert celebrations take place throughout the world. Children pose for a picture during Trinidad’s Jouvert celebration. (Photo Credit: Google Images)

The beauty of the annual West Indian Day Parade is that it dissolves national lines and binds people together in shared experiences in the Americas and an undeniable similarity in histories and traditions. Our crew gathered that morning hailed from Jamaica, Bahamas, Trinidad, Guyana and America (everyone’s welcome on carnival day).

Our crew leader was Trinidadian and well versed in ritual of preparation for Jouvert and carnival day. This was my first Jouvert and a knowledgeable guide was necessary and appreciated. He made sure the pre-fete music was constant, appropriate and was cranked up to the correct motivational decibel. He handed out clothing to those of us who had not come prepared to have our everyday street gear soiled by the mayhem to come. Well that was our contemporary interpretation, but from its very beginning this ceremonial preparation was linked to subversive battle and celebration. Why the concern about what to wear?

Antonio Lyons’ selfie at New York’s Jouvert celebration. (Photo Credit: Antonio Lyons)

A key part of Jouvert is the tradition of playing “Mud Mas”, which involves participants called Jab Jabs covering themselves and everyone else with mud. It is custom that no one who participates in Jouvert should remain clean. In the recreation of the tradition in New York mud has been replaced with paint and powder. It was almost 4am by the time we began to weave our way through the early morning streets. As we made our now appropriately clothed bodies through the pre-dawn streets, I was keenly aware of the uniqueness of the moment. Every step we took, every new crew member we picked up along the way, every directive given by our crew leader was part of a living ritual that had been centuries in the making. As we got closer to our destination we begin to see other revelers heading in the same direction, people began spotting and greeting people they knew, we saw others who had already been playing mas since 2am!

By the time we reached Eastern Parkway I was almost skip running with excitement to turn the corneronto Flatbush Avenue and when I did I was hit with the sounds of steel pan and soca. I was drenched in smiling faces, bodies winding, strangers greeting, hands slapping bodies and multicolored streams of paint flying through the air. I was overwhelmed by it all, stopped in my tracks not sure where to begin and then a face close to me broke into an even wider grin and greeted me warmly. It was an old college friend, you never know who you going to run into on Jouvert morning or Ccarnival day.

The rest of the morning turned stranger into friend and affirmed the power of community, creativity and spirit to elevate the mundane.

I stumbled away from the festivities with sore feet and a light heart. It was joyous to see people of every age reaffirm traditions brought from “home”, replanted in foreign soil and allowed to grow and flourish. For me Jouvert and Carnival represent a rebirth and affirmation of life in all of its varied colors. It also represents an opportunity to pay homage to the many ancestors who have danced upon the road and played mas so that I could live life free.

Antonio David Lyons is an Artivist (artist activist). Check him out on www.antoniodavidlyons.com. Follow him on Twitter: @AntonioLyons

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The Importance of Cultural Symbology

9/9/2013

WHAT'S IN A NAME

In a recent post to a Facebook group Diane Regisford shared one of her most recent visual creations. She named the group Nyéléni Gratitude.

I in my insatiable curiosity needed to know the meaning behind Nyéléni. Several sources attach the name to a carved wooden female figure that characterizes the ideal in feminine youthful beauty. The figures are said to have been used as part of traditional male initiation ceremonies. Most recently the name has been adopted by The International Nyéléni Forum for Food Sovereignty, who claim that the name is also attached to a malian legend.

Nyéléni was a woman and a farmer from Mali, whose existence has been passed on through the African oral tradition. According to oral history,she surpassed all others in her ability to farm, introduced new methods and developed new crops.She symbolizes innovation, hard work, and caring for her people. Due to this, she has become the international symbol of Food Sovereignty.

According to the story Nyéléni was from the region of Segou in Mali. She was the only child of Nianso and Saucra, and as she was a girl her parents were ridiculed. She secretly resolved to remove this slur that men had cast on her by defeating them on their own ground, agriculture and the work of the land.Nyéléni took part in farming competitions and defeated all the champions with the best reputation in her village and in the surrounding region. The more arrogant men would challenge her, day after day, and to their disgrace they were all defeated.

Nyéléni’s reputation grew beyond the limits of her region and she became a living legend. The story also says that it was at the beginning of winter, which is the rainy season in Mali, that she domesticated fonio (hungry rice) and samio, cereals that are traditionally eaten nowadays in Mali.

Sources
http://www.nyeleni.org/spip.php?article17
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyéléni

J'Ouvert

9/3/2013

J'Ouvert (breaking of dawn)

My J'Ouvert began well before the traditional 4am call to revelry of the masses upon the road. It started around 2am in a garden level apartment of an old friend in the Bedstuy neighborhood of Brooklyn. When I walked in the celebrations were well underway with free flowing alcohol, sound system barking out soca tunes and spirits lifted in a dancing game. I dropped my bag and joined in intent on catching up with all of the good times I'd already missed. The host of the evening shouted my name above the din, opening up introductions to one and all. Carnival spirit ruled the moment and strangers became friends and distances disappeared. It was one of those magical moments that characterize century’s old traditions and rituals that comprise carnival. Many outside of cultures that celebrate carnival often aren't aware that it is a spiritual and religious ceremony that on one hand prepares participants for the Christian season of lent and on the other celebrates the spirit of freedom of its African ancestors. As I made my way through the room and danced deeper into the morning I was reminded of the liberation of spirit that comes through music and communal gathering. While I'd celebrated many a Carnival season this was to be my first J'Ouvert!
As the night receded and the dawn crept towards us we began to prepare ourselves for the ritual to come. We roused those that had drifted to sleep. We changed our clothes from normal street wear to things that we didn’t mind getting a little roughed up. We draped ourselves in our national colors or grabbed a flag to wave. The beauty of diaspora carnival is that it bridges the divide that might exist on any other day. On this day we are all West Indian; Island people sharing similar cultures and traditions. Our J’Ouvert crew represented Guyana, Trinidad, Jamaica, the Bahamas and the Virgin Islands. We were a rambunctious and jovial crew as we wove our way through the streets of Brooklyn heading towards Ocean Ave and Eastern Pkwy. This early morning ritual was being repeated across the city, mirroring traditions transplanted with West Indian immigrants as they settled in New York City as early as the 1920’s. The closer we got to the Parkway the more my excitement began to build. I had been waiting the whole year for this celebration. It had been almost 15 years since I’d had the pleasure of witnessing the pageantry of carnival make its way down Eastern Parkway. The joy and pride at hearing steel pan and reggae as all around you people are wearing and waving their colors with pride. It has to be one of the most exhilarating experiences one could ever have. As the sky began to lighten and the sound of the pans hit my ears I knew this was a transcending moment. They say the spirits comes a calling in the early morning hours. I felt the ancestors rise as a strangers smile greeted my eyes and colors flew through the air….As freedom moved through dancing winding and gyrating bodies…As old friends appeared and disappeared…As I allowed myself to be swept away into the fantasy of J’Ouvert morning.

My once white shirt was now streaked with reds, blues and oranges. Explosions of silver hand prints decorated my chest and white flecked my nose. Somehow through the revelry my mind came into sharp focus remembering that the root of this moment was the slave celebrating freedom and defying oppression; Claiming, endowing and recreating a new ritual that is all his own. I saw in J’Ouvert the power of the feminine. I watched as women stood in full ownership of their bodies, their sensuality and sexuality. Whole beings capable of taking a wind and giving a wind back. Denying a suitor or beckoning one with a twitch of a hip. During J’Ouvert and carnival the sacred Goddess is reborn she sheds the skin of limitations and is reborn whole and complete. The dawn gave way to morning, revelations, tired feet and sore hip flexors and still we journeyed on. Old and Young recreating this ritual determined to play there part in keeping tradition alive. For some, like me there are new awakenings and for others a rediscovering of the sacred in the everyday. By the end of the day months of planning, crafting, sewing and rehearsing will have filled hearts and minds with the power of freedom and pride. Even when the crowds have dissipated they will have carried with them a spark of the divine whispered in every note and suggested with every winding waist.

On the Occasion of a Wedding

8/30/2013

A profound word from unexpected source

Races to the heart as an arrow to its target

It's landing is true

It slices through pretense and perceptions

The suddenness of impact

Breathing fresh air into a stagnant mind

Suddenly what never could be is seen as real and concrete

For a moment a door opened and the hunted is never the same again.

The wedding of the day before had seen the coming together of two people with extraordinary courage and love. They had stepped into a world of the unknown informed by the knowing of each other and a mountain of statistics that prophesies their slim chance of success. Yet in spite of these somber predictions this couple takes the leap whole a community of family and friends stands weeping, smiling, laughing and cheering them on. We who stand as witness are set on a road of magical reality as we recognize a reflection of what have or could have in these shining faces. I watch this ceremony rich in cross cultural references that reflect the Cape Colored and Jewish traditions that are being bound together in this ceremony. The crowd a reflection of the varied community that their offspring will be born into. Well into the night we investigate our commonality and differences. We have conversations of a strange and necessary variety that would never occur if worlds were not colliding. I imagine the voice of the other wondering who we are as we do the same. We stare at each other as we struggle through awkward conversations and decipher the oddities in the unknown. The morning brings us together in an unexpected moment of communion. Esther the mother of the groom has charmed me with a voice that is earthy and smokey. Her speech patterns are measured and direct. Her eyes penetrating in their punctuation. She appears more hippy than mom. She holds us with wise woman words and the openness of a child. In a few words she erases doubt and inspires me to new thoughts and perceptions. In this cipher we exchange our souls and dream ways to reshape the world anew. She introduces us to the power and necessity of the artist to help the world shift its perception of itself and the other. She wonders aloud at what it would take for us to reach that critical mass of consciousness and action. Our minds are full, our bellies are empty and its not yet even 9 am.

Journey Through the Dream

8/29/2013

The past weeks activities to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington have left me humbled and introspective. The experiences ranged from reflective moments through the eyes of visual artists to two gatherings on the hollowed grounds of the Lincoln Memorial. Each experience housed an opportunity to look at the civil rights movement and struggle for equality from varied perspectives. Over the next few days I'll share some of the impressions that have contributed to an expansion and understanding that I had not anticipated. The photo above highlights the continued inclusiveness of the struggle. Then like now it will take all hands on deck to turn this ship homeward. I believe the call to action has been heard, but it will be curious to see how we as a nation take the dream forward. I'm grateful for all the new connections made and old ones reaffirmed. Write with y'all soon!

Love,

AntonioF

the art of justice

8/24/2013

Mount Rainier, MD--August 16, 2013--To commemorate the 50th Anniversary of
the historic March on Washington, the artist collective will mount the
exhibition “The Art of Justice: Honoring and Continuing a Movement for
Equality through Artistic Expression.” The works of over 40 artists, in
various genres, will be featured. The exhibition is inspired by and the
collection reflects the artists’ impression of the historical as well as
the current state of justice in America and on-going efforts to achieve
racial equality. Exhibit organizer and artist Michael Anthony Brown
believes “Through art, we can visually plant a seed for justice and change.”

The opening reception for The Art of Justice exhibition was held on the
eve of the National Action Network’s March on Washington Friday, August 23
2013, 5-8pm at the Mount Rainier Artists Loft Gallery. The gallery is
located at 3311 Rhode Island Avenue in Mount Rainier, Maryland. The "Art of Justice" runs through Sunday,
September 8, 2013. The gallery is Metro and handicapped accessible.

The Art of Justice is hosted by artists Michael Anthony Brown, Toni George
and Greg Scott. Michael Anthony Brown, a native Washingtonian, is an
internationally renowned painter, sculptor and printmaker. One of his most
famous prints is the commemorative poster for the Million Man March on
Washington in October of 1995. Other featured, local and national, artists
include: Simmie Knox, Larry Poncho Brown, Arthur Dawson, Juliette Madison,
Reggie Yazid Pointer, James Brown, Jr., Aziza Gibson-Hunter, Deborah
Shedrick, Francis Washington, Brianna Faulkner, Dalhia Perryman and Kwame
Opare. The full list of artists is available at www.theartofjustice.org.
The exhibit will also feature a masterful collection of quilts from
“American Spring: A Cause for Justice,” created by the Fiber Artists for
Hope Quilting Guild.

The Art of Justice exhibition is slated to expand in size and scope and
travel nationally. Fundraising efforts are currently underway to achieve
this goal. The Art of Justice movement strives to foster a new generation
of social awareness which empowers activism to dispel social injustice at
its roots. "We endeavor to spark an honest dialogue on the state of race in
America. Only by acknowledging the ever changing ethnic landscape and
embracing our diversity, can we make strides towards equality. By honoring
the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington, we honor an indelible
legacy of courage and sacrifice demonstrated by a movement. While the world
watched, armed only with a desire for civil rights, justice and equality,
the Freedom Fighters of 1963 stood their ground and helped shape a nation.
We honor the contributions of those who came before us. Through the 'Art of
Justice,' we protect and continue their legacy." - Michael Anthony Brown
Website: www.theartofjustice.org

Interview with artist Michael Anthony Brown from antonio david lyons on Vimeo.

Men's Rally

8/21/2013

I wish that I was in Jozi to participate in this Rally!

The sustained and proactive engagement by men is so necessary to build healthy individuals and communities. So much of my work as an artivist speaks directly to creating space for men to develop the awareness and tools necessary to live fuller and happier lives.

Artivist

(artist +activist) uses his/her artistic talents to fight and struggle against injustice and oppression—by any medium necessary

WELCOME TO A WORLD OF POSSIBILITY: an ARTIST'S soul EXPLODED. A SAMPLING of WHO he is, WHO he has BEEN and VISIONS of WHO he is yet to BECOME.

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