Though I had exhibited and worked with Bonnie and Charlotte (today known as curatorial duo Salt+Powell) previously, this was definitely an entirely different experience as it was their space and, in short, I really didn’t want to do anything to muck things up – especially with the calibre of artists I was to be exhibiting my work alongside. To say I felt the pressure to do well wouldn’t even begin to describe it (though, I am admittedly a worrywart and the girls helped calm me down at various points with soothing tones and much reassurance!).

The theme of the exhibition revolved around ideas of “excess and frugality”, “the ever evolving ‘noise’ of the mass media and advertising”, and “the ‘depth of the emptiness’ that this constant ‘noise’ masks”. I took this as the opportunity to explore the effects of tourism on the Bahamian tradition of Junkanoo, and how the festival has transmogrified from being a celebration of freedom and using anything to hand, to becoming a competition of elaborate, plumed costumes of sequins.

But the drums are still there…

It’s this bass, at the heart of the celebration, that everyone really connects with – even if the intentions may have changed.

There is always something about drums that has this ability to strike you to your core, the bass literally moves through your body and you can feel the waves oscillate through your body – it physically and mentally goes through you, in such this indescribable, ineffable force. And this is the aspect I tried to connect with again. The sound of the drums is distorted, the video is distorted, to allude to the hazy cultural memory we once had of this celebration, to try and drag it back in – kicking and screaming or no – to current times, in its previous state.