Miss, Greenwood — Saturday night, June 18, Memphis-based artist Desmond Lewis was in a public park unloading cakes (a bunch of fireworks connected by high-speed fuses) from a pickup truck. On the other side of the nearby tree line, about 150 spectators awaited a June celebration in what is known as the “Cotton Capital of the World.”
“The first rule of fireworks,” Lewis said when he stood on a large box of explosives in the prolonged heat, “don’t put your body parts on the explosives you don’t want to lose.” rice field.
Lewis, 28, is terribly wearing glasses. As he says, “I’m always doing something”, so he wears dark-rimmed prescription safety glasses. He lifted his box up to his chest and made a friendly grimaces.
Primarily a sculptor, Lewis produces forged, sculpted, crafted and cast pieces from industrial materials. His objects connect concrete to steel, wood and rebar.Extruded striped concrete blocks secure the steel structure “The split match” (2021), for example. In another example, the sculpture “American Forgotten” (2017) is approaching the University of Memphis campus at a height of 16 feet. There, Lewis earned a master’s degree in art. It features a vertical concrete cylinder adorned with large pieces of steel shaped like broken links in chains.
Lewis recognizes analog in his work. For him, their smooth surfaces are reminiscent of how the complex national stories surrounding African-American labor history are rejected, concealed, or whitened. Many structures feature elaborate concrete and are “massaged to look pristine,” he says. His sculpture appears to be broken or endangered. They expose their own internal organs in a way that Lewis understands as a representative of the inseparable fiction of white supremacism and the material reality of black life. However, rather than being moody, Lewis’s sculptures are characterized by a bit of whimsy, such as pop colors, flashy arrangements, and sentimental handprints.
That contemporary relationship between tenderness and violence continues to be evident in the artist’s turn from what art collectors and minorities share the owner of the Memphis Grizzlies. Elliot Perry It is nicely characterized as the “durable material” of the more ethereal fireworks that Lewis considers to be very sculptural.
Lewis’s pyrotechnic experiment began when he attended in the summer of 2018. Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture — A well-selected and renowned summer residence for up-and-coming artists in the countryside of Maine, with prominent graduates such as Ellsworth Kelly, David Driskel and Robert Indiana. During his stay, Lewis began to ruminate at the limit. He was fighting the image of police atrocities and associated protests in places such as Ferguson, Missouri and Baltimore. “As a black man,” he explains.
While conducting a visual investigation to find out how to sculpt a “very legitimate” explosion, Lewis makes a visual difference between the flames emanating from fireworks and the flames emanating from a burning car. I noticed that there was almost no. “One is socially acceptable,” he says, “the other is not.” To test his theory, Lewis made three small concrete pillars and set fireworks in them.
At dusk on a large meadow, Lewis lit his first fireworks.
“It was thrilling,” recalls Skowhegan co-director Sarah Volkne. “Everyone was pretty excited about what it happened and what it could happen here,” she said of the audience. “They were excited about the event itself by being shown what was possible.” In addition to his full-time position as an instructor at the Yale School of Art, Lewis works as a Skowhegan sculpture shop manager. increase. Workneh characterizes the power of her early fireworks display as part of Lewis’s “dangerous generosity.”
With its first foray, Lewis has entered the multi-million dollar complex fireworks industry. He wanted access to an industry controlled by complex state and federal regulations and dominated by a small number of large corporations. The cost of display fireworks can be exorbitant for resource-poor communities, many of whom are black and the industry is predominantly white. Lewis didn’t stop.
He started working part-time at a large fireworks company that has on-the-job training and eventually licensed for his display operator. As part of his work, Lewis was sent to a small town in the southeast, where he was one of the few blacks. He described these experiences as “scary” and “unpleasant.”
“As a black man under the age of 30 in this country,” he says. “I have two options. I can be in a cell 6 feet or 6 feet underground. The effort required to avoid these options is only an inherent risk of survival.”
Independently, Lewis sought licenses in several southeastern states, and ultimately in his federation. Alcohol tobacco and firearm type 54 license. This allows him to purchase, transport, and photograph professional-grade fireworks in conjunction with a dangerous goods approved commercial driver’s license.
“Part of what I like about fireworks is that I’m in the dark,” Lewis explained.
Fireworks are nothing new in contemporary art.Judy Chicago Explode fireworks in the desert as part of her feminist pushback For the Land Art movement in the 1960s. Recently, Cai Guo-Qiang has become internationally famous for its explosive art. He is probably the most popular at the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. However, Lewis’s displays are different in color from these gorgeous pieces.
Currently, Lewis pays all the travel and transportation costs for the fireworks (although the organizer pays for the materials and insurance). He has little control over the products he buys, especially because supply chain delays plague the industry. Lewis may not even know which colors are available. His show is meticulously timed. “What I’m learning about myself is that I really love logistics,” he says. But for most spectators, they are indistinguishable from the show seen around July 4th.
Greenwood is at the eastern end of the Mississippi Delta, not far from where the Tallahatchie and Yalobusha rivers meet to form the Yazoo River. The 2021 US Census identifies more than 70% of the city’s 1,400 residents as black. Almost 30 percent of the population lives below the national poverty threshold. The city is currently hosting two fireworks shows. One is the Christmas Parade and the other is Independence Day, but it will not be held on June 16th. In two hours south of Jackson, where 80% of the population is black and the poverty line is about 24%, the city council will fund fireworks earlier this year on June 16th and July 4th. I have rejected the measures for this. News report.
To reach Greenwood, Lewis flew from Bangor, Tennessee to Nashville, Tennessee, then drove fireworks to Indiana, returned via Memphis, and headed further south to Leflor County. The drive took him about 15 hours. He was carrying nearly £ 300 of fireworks for a timekeeping show within 5 minutes. Lewis will return to Memphis that night and board his plane early the next morning. He had never been to Greenwood before, but the site plan he had sent in advance was approved by the fire department.
The Juneteenth Festival was like a family reunion. It was hosted by three friends in their twenties who grew up in Greenwood. As one of the organizers, Kenneth Milton, Jr. explained, they considered it a celebration as well as a “reminder of your ancestors not being free.” Participants danced, participated in the “Sing All Voices” production, and played a healthy (if noisy) kickball game.
As the darkness subsided, Lewis began exhibiting on schedule. It was the last event of the day.
The sky was illuminated with pink and green flashes, and the air burned with sound. Suddenly, Lewis sprinted from the tailgate of his truck, where he was running the show, to the wire mesh fence ringing the outfield from around the baseball field. A man not attending a Juneteenth event violated the safety radius set by Lewis. Lewis shouted to come back to him, but the man stuck. If he gets injured, Lewis will be liable.
While everyone was looking up at the sky, Lewis spent the last few minutes of the show “eyes and eyes” with the man, using his body as a shield between the intruder and the exploding fireworks. At the end of the explosion, the unidentified man returned to the street adjacent to the public park.
Oops cheers were heard from the distant crowd. The car rang with gratitude from the road, but Lewis showed no sign that he had heard them.
“Sensational,” said another organizer, Camron Daniels, 24, shortly after the show. When asked if they would try again, he replied “no doubt”.
Mayor Carolyn McAdams added, “It’s a great event for Greenwood. It’s a big event, safe and aimed at people who enjoy living with friends and family.”
Greenwood was the only Juneteenth celebration that Lewis “shot” in fireworks terms this year, but in the future he hopes to organize a series of exhibits to celebrate the holidays.
When asked if the cost and effort of such a short fireworks display was worth the money, Lewis replied, “Why can’t we just spend five minutes?”
