Book Review: The New Black Vanguard
The New Black Vanguard by Antwaun Sargent.
The first time I turned through the pages of The New Black Vanguard, I was completely halted by Renell Medrano’s portrait of Aweng Chuol. In an almost blatant defiance of color composition, this captivating photo is a complete visual saturation of brown. Chuol looks back over her shoulder from the front seat of a car, hand on the gear shift. The interior is all lustre brown leather and the light from the flash bounces off of everything; it glosses up Chuol’s green velvet suit, her shimmering auburn hair, her glowing Black skin. At the focal center, is Chuol’s stare. She looks out, steady, to the viewer. She is in control but not at all domineering. It’s as if she’s providing you a choice point - are you in or are you out? If you’re in, you better buckle the fuck up. This photo resonates with the collective energy that is The New Black Vanguard; it is an honesty, an unabashed power, a confidence behind the narrative of identity.
Renell Medrano. 1984, Harlem, New York, 2018.
From cover to cover, The New Black Vanguard is delicious. There is such a deep aesthetic breadth within these pages; from the sleek and sensual images of Dana Scruggs, the grit and narrative of Renell Medrano, to the colorful conceptual abstractions of Namsa Leuba. The book opens with a brilliant essay, written by Antwuan Sargent, that presents the reader with an integral primer into what kinds of visual narratives have informed the 15 photographers whose work he curated for the publication. He shares some of the history behind Black image making; the influence of the white gaze, the appropriation of Black culture by white photographers, and the ways in which these promising new Black photographers are eluding an historically oppressive industry through a more DIY approach. These photographers are empowered through their social media platforms to represent their images with their own words, effectively bypassing the fashion industry and furthering their own work.
Stephen Tayo. Vitus and John, Arigato Pride Story, Lagos, Nigeria, 2018.
Not only do these photographers flex their independence within and without the fashion industry itself, the images they make seek to demolish the parameters of the fashion photograph. Their images manipulate the visual tropes and expectations of the fashion image, breaking the genre wide open and into something so much more important. To quote Sargent, “the result is a contemporary Black fashion photography that is inclusive and reflective of a wider world - in terms of skin color, body type, performativity of gender, and class.” The manipulation of these visual tropes becomes a tool, rather than an encompassed visual style. The photographs in this book feel more documentarian… more editorial, than fashion.
Quil Lemons. New York, 2017.
Nadine Ijewere. The Art of Renaissance, 2017.
This book is for everyone.
Yes, we all have a bias towards representation that reflects us, and we all benefit when people have a voice in their own history-telling and their own visual representation. This ownership is not the appropriative musings of an idea, it is an idea fully actualized. We need more of this in every genre, in every medium, every industry, city, and bordered land. It is a powerful experience to witness these young photographers representing themselves, their families, their history, and their future through their photographs. To quote Ruth Ossai, “The beauty of photography is [that] it starts a dialogue about who we are, where we come from, and where we are going.” The photographers of The New Black Vanguard know what came before them, they know where they stand within the manufactured parameters of the fashion industry, and, through their aspirational photographs, they are redefining expectations for all of us regarding race narratives, gender expression, and identity.
Arielle Bobb-Willis. Union City, New Jersey, 2018.
From the intersections of our identities, we seek representation. If you are coming from an identity that is already encompassed within the white, cisgendered, heteronormative, ableist, patriarchy - then you may feel uncomfortable consuming media that wasn’t explicitly intended for an audience like you. Welcome this discomfort, it is a generous gift.
— Sophia Díaz