Tsedaye Makonnen is a multidisciplinary artist whose studio, curatorial and research-based practice threads together her identity as a daughter of Ethiopian immigrants, Black American woman, birthworker and a mother. Makonnen primarily focuses on migration and intersectional feminism; using light, shadow, reflection, embodiment, movement and collaboration as materials. Makonnen is the recipient of a Smithsonian Artist Research Fellowship. She has performed at the Venice Biennale, Art Basel Miami, Art on the Vine (Martha's Vineyard), Chale Wote Street Art Festival (Ghana), El Museo del Barrio, Fendika Cultural Center (Ethiopia), Festival International d'Art Performance (Martinique), Queens Museum, the Smithsonian's, and more. In 2018 Makonnen studied sculpture with mentor El Anatsui at his studio in Nigeria. Her light monuments have been exhibited at the August Wilson Cultural Center, National Gallery of Art and UNTITLED Art Fair and is currently being acquired by the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art. She has been featured in the NYTimes, Vogue, BOMB, Hyperallergic, Artnet, Artsy, Forbes, and more. Her recent exhibitions are 1:54 Contemporary African Art Fair in London, Park Avenue Armory, National Museum of Women in the Arts, The Momentary and Art at a Time Likes This. In 2020, Makonnen curated a virtual group exhibition with Washington Project for the Arts titled Black Women as/and the Living Archive based on Alisha Wormsley’s film Children of Nan: Mothership and is currently working on publishing an exhibition book in 2021. This upcoming March, Makonnen will be showing with her gallery at Art Dubai. For the upcoming Fall semester she will be the Clark Art Institute’s inaugural Futures Fellow in Williamstown, Massachusetts. She is currently in four exhibitions across the U.S. and Europe and is represented by Addis Fine Art in London & Addis Ababa. She lives in DC with her 10 year old son.
Ravon Ruffin:
It's August 25th, 2020. That sounds so weird to say. I'm Ravon Ruffin and I am here with...
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Tsedaye Makonnen.
Ravon Ruffin:
Perfect. Tsedaye, we're...
Tsedaye Makonnen:
8:11 AM, I don't know if that... for you.
Ravon Ruffin:
For me, what time is it there? Where are you? What time is it?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I'm in London, and I'm five hours ahead, which is 1:11 PM, yeah.
Ravon Ruffin:
Okay, cool [crosstalk 00:00:33]. And just a couple other background questions. Can you share where you were born?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yes, I was born in Washington, D.C. United States of America, at Howard University Hospital, yeah. And I grew up in the D.C. area, so really, I grew up in Silver Spring.
Ravon Ruffin:
When did you realize you were an artist?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I think since I was a kid, but... Because I've always sketched, I was a hardcore sketcher. Which is funny, because my son is that now. I make still-lives, I set up a still-life and I sketch and stuff like that. But I think, I didn't have the courage to fully pursue it until I was an adult. Actually, I did the backwards thing, where people when they have kids they're like, "Oh, now I've got to get a real job." Or they usually step away from their art career. I was like, "No, I'm going to lean in." Because [inaudible 00:01:40] the Oprah or Brené Brown, "I'm going to lean into my career."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, yeah I was like, "This is what I've always wanted to do, now I have a kid..." I felt like it was now or never, basically? Because I was like, "If I don't do it now, I'm probably never going to do it." And it was important for me, I didn't want him to grow up with a mom who... Because I'm thinking of patriarchy, with a mom who didn't do what she wanted to do, because often, being a woman is already difficult enough. And I think we feel the pressure to not really live out our best lives? Or whatever the fuck that means, you know what it...
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But also once you become a mom, and because the US is so anti-family, and anti-motherhood, specifically, and supporting mothers, I just didn't want him to grow up thinking that that is okay. That like, "No, you're going to see your mom do her thing, do what she wants to do, to prioritize my career, my dreams." And that it's equally as important to me as being a mother, and just... Yeah. I feel like I've seen a lot of mothers, and I don't fault them because I get it. Being forced to take a different path than what they want for themselves, because they've got to support the family, or because they have to be the stay-at-home mom, or because they're a single mother, and they feel like they have no other option but to do what is best to keep the family afloat.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And I've done those things too, but I also fully... I understood that eventually... Well, I was going out on faith, I'll be honest. Because I didn't know this shit was going to work! But I just took that whole, one step at a time, you know? Especially in the first three to four years of my son's life, that was... it was difficult because... I mean, I had the whole village around me. I definitely had... my parents, especially during that period, were raising my son with me. And my brother. And I did have the help of [Tsenaye's 00:04:15] dad and grandparents, although his father wasn't as involved then as he is now. So, it really was on me.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And I made certain sacrifices, because I didn't want Tsenaye to grow up in daycare at an early age. So, I had him with me the first three years. That meant most of my time went to him, so I was only able to dabble here and there, but I just kind of... Every year that he grew more independent, that was every year for me to get closer and closer to being able to really hone in on my practice, and focus on it. And then obviously once he was in school, that was such a game-changer. And then now he's almost 10, so I can do things... It's like the older a child gets, it does become easier. It's harder in certain ways, but it's way easier in that I just have more autonomy and agency, and all those things. Sorry, that was a long-winded answer.
Ravon Ruffin:
No, no [crosstalk 00:05:27] is great, it set up so much, actually. I have a couple questions from that, I'm going to write them down, but the first one being, you said you started drawing. How did you transition from drawing into performance? Or what was that like? Or were you drawing for a long time, what was your practice really on, I guess is what I'm asking?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
My practice I think was like [inaudible 00:05:57] very gateway into art. Because that's just what I had access to, was drawing materials and paint. And this is not shade to my parents, but I even tried to get into... Einstein High School in Montgomery county, they have a art, like Magnet program that you apply to. And I went with this white girl, Katie Hillslyn. Shout out to her and her family, and she had the white hippie family that was super supportive or whatever, she wanted to do.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And I get it, that's privilege, you know? And that was a privilege that my Black, immigrant family did not... my parents didn't have. They worked a ton of hours, and they worked in like... they were essential workers, now that's a term being thrown around, but that's what they've always been, in the hospital system. And I really wanted to go to this school, but it would mean that they would have to drive me there, pick me up... Because it wasn't easy to get to from where I lived, it was totally out of our district.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But also Katie's family offered to transport me too, or to help in that, because they'd be taking their daughter anyways. So, I went with Katie and her mom to check out the program and we both were obsessed. Because it was almost like an MFA program for high school students, you know? It was a very intense, four-year program where half the day you were in art school, and then the other half you did regular school stuff. Yeah, I really wanted to go, but my parents were like, "Nah. That's a cute hobby, but ain't nobody..." They already have to drive from the suburbs into the city every day, and my dad would have to wake up at 4:00 AM to make it to work on time.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
At the time I was being a teenage brat, and just being like, "This fucking sucks. You guys shitted on my dreams." But now I get it. And then ironically, when I look at this part... I don't know, this is not shade, but when I look at... I don't think Katie's a practicing artist. I'm sure she makes art for herself, but I remember going to... she had a show, this was me as an adult going. And I think she did the Corcoran and MICA, it was like, this Einstein Art School, and she took that path. And I didn't, my path is like, I don't have actual academic training in art, I've always just apprenticed, and I've taken classes. But it was just interesting to see the trajectory of her lane. And I just remember going to that show and being like, "Oh."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I don't know what I thought that path would mean? But to me it meant, "Oh, you've got to do that in order to be an artist, and to be successful." And I realized, I was like, "Oh, the way I'm doing it is actually just fine, and works for me. And dare I say, might even be more... I don't know, make more sense?" I should say it just works for me. It's worked really well. Because I am somebody who is like, I'm really good at independent study. If there's something I want to do, I'll figure out how to do it, I don't need someone to hold my hand, I don't need to be placed in this box or whatever. I'm better without the boxes, because as you've seen, my practice is so spread out. And so is my research, so anyways.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
To go back to what you were saying. So, that happened, I thought like... I kind of was like, "I'll put that in the back burner, okay, I'm not in this Einstein Art School, I can't pursue art. I'm going to go down a more traditional route." Most people thought I was going to go into science, or be a doctor, because I had an internship with NIH and all this shit. But I ended up studying political science at the University of Maryland. And that didn't really work out, that definitely wasn't my lane. I tried to make it my lane. But interestingly enough, really my lane was activism. But I realized, I was like, "That's not going to happen in this government shit. That's not what they're on."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Because we were doing things like going to the Hill to lobby for... I was interning for Advocates for Youth, which is a reproductive health organization, reproductive rights. So, it's interesting, now when I look I'm like, "Oh, all those things are in my work, that makes sense! I went from interning and fighting for reproductive rights..." We even came to London, because it was the UN Millennium Development Goals that year, and our focus was on women and reproductive rights, and abortion, and contraception and all that shit. And then look where I am. I'm a doula, I work with the pelvic bone, all those things.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And then yeah, having that poli sci background makes sense, because my work is really political. I mean, I think anybody who's Black [inaudible 00:11:35] or person of color, it's going to be political, whether or not you want it to be? But mine is deliberately political! And I do see activism in my work. I don't know if I would fully call myself an activist, but there is activism in my work. But basically, so while Tsenaye was one or two years old, because I could start leaving him with my parents more. And at that time, we were living with them. And I started taking art classes at Montgomery College, the Tacoma Park campus.
Ravon Ruffin:
How [crosstalk 00:12:21], around what age were you at this time?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
God, so he was about one or two, so I was 27, I think? Yeah. 27, maybe 28? I was definitely before 30. Yeah, because he was born when I was 26. So yeah, 27, 28 basically. In between that time.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Because yeah, it was a way to get out the house. I needed access to a studio, and I found out that the Tacoma Park campus has this state-of-the-art print-making shop, ceramics shop. It's the best in the Montgomery county area, where even people who are not there for school... Which was what happened, it was like a lot of the students there were actually just working artists who wanted access to the space, and already had careers and stuff like that. And it was cheap, so that also was a draw.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And I was thinking, I was like, "Well maybe this will be my gateway to go back to school, and get an MFA, possibly?" And then I was told to find this one professor... Basically, I started doing that, and then I realized, I was like, "I'm obsessed with clay. I'm obsessed with sculpting." So I started... I just kept taking the ceramics class over and over again, I was auditing it at one point, just so I could have access again to like... Because their ceramics studio was super sick. Really brand new, has everything. And then I started to meet the ceramicists in the D.C. area that are practicing. And somebody was like, "You need to take classes with J.J. McCracken." And J.J. is a really well-known performance artist and sculptor, but she uses a lot of clay.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And she's nationally known, so I started taking classes with her, and it just like, we clicked immediately. And she became a mentor from then on out. And now we're really good friends, so I just kept taking her class over and over again. And she taught on the weekends, which was ideal, because my mom would be home, so I would spend 9:00 to 3:00 PM Saturday and Sunday, I think? Or maybe it was just Saturday... No, I think it was both days? Because it was an intensive program, and I'd just be there all fucking day, messing around with clay, trying to distort the material, and use it in non-traditional ways.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I was trained on the potter's wheel and all that, I can do all of that stuff. But, I was more interested to see, what can you do with it that isn't yeah, typical? So, after a few semesters she was just like, "You know, you really should look into performance art." Because I would talk to her about the concepts I was dealing with. And at the time, I think I had just started also working as a doula simultaneously. So, I was in the medical realm. Because the two Black women who trained me... it was just the three of us. They were Village Birth Co-op. Again, I was around 28 years old, I think, at that time.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And then they got their non-profit status, and then they turned into Mamatoto Village, which allowed them... That meant D.C Medicaid started covering their births. Which meant that we could then serve low-income mothers, who most, in this area, are Black women, and Black families. So, we went from mostly white families, because that's who could afford us, because it's expensive as shit to get a doula, or a midwife, to then having insurance cover it, so now we were serving Black families.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I was going through a lot, seeing that transition of how white women were being treated in hospitals, versus Black women, and these are the same hospitals, the same staff. It was jarring, it was shocking, it was traumatizing. When I talk about, share some of the stories that I witnessed I... It's difficult to discuss, because... Yeah, I mean now there's a lot of articles being written, I think someone sent me an article from CNN that said, "Black babies are more likely to survive birth if their doctor is Black, versus a white doctor." It's like two times more likely, or something? And that shit is real, because that's exactly what I saw was just the mistreatment and the racism that babies in utero, and then the mothers, and then the surrounding families are experiencing in this very vulnerable moment, you know?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So anyways, I'm trying to work through all this shit, and J.J. was like, "Maybe objects or clay... these sculptures are limiting? What if you created an installation, and you performed within the installation?" So, we were just starting to talk about how cathartic performance art is, and how quickly... And this is something that Ayana and I also talk about, how much more quicker you can get a message across, versus a painting on a wall, or a sculpture. Because then you have to explain what that thing is? Whereas in performance, you can show it.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
She just started giving me names. She was like, "Look this person up. Look that person up. Look..." I have notebooks full of names and people I was studying, and... I mean, the easiest was Marina Abramović. But then I was way more fascinated with seeing Magdalena [Komborzwon's 00:18:29] work, and then I fell into seeing Senga and Maren's work? That was life-changing. Especially because they were talking about a lot of the things that I was trying to work through. Motherhood, being a woman, patriarchy... And using these very feminine objects to perform with. Anyways, yeah. Then I became obsessed, I was like, "Oh, bet!"
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And then I did my first performance, I was performing in another artist's piece at the Corcoran. And I loved it, I went in. It was just funny how it was so easy for me to switch gears, which made me realize, "Oh, this is my medium." I wasn't hesitant at all, I wasn't nervous. I wasn't embarrassed or whatever. My first performance was... What's her name, again, don't... I'm losing it, sorry, forgive me, I promise I can come back! Oh, Brianna [Siobhan 00:19:35], that's her name.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Another person I need to... And this is not shade, I just think I need this because I definitely do have insecurities sometimes about not having an MFA, or not having gone the traditional route for art. But she's somebody who did that, she went to the Corcoran, and she went to the MFA school in Boston. She's not really practicing right now. There's just so many people who... And I do think that's an important part of my story, because... for other people to understand like, "You don't have to do this." First of all, art is for anybody. It just takes grit, creativity, talent. And obviously you need to hone in on the skill, and it's not something you can just show up and do, you've got to do it and practice it, and stuff like that. But anyways.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But she painted me... I was in light blue, from my hip down was blue paint, and then my hip and up was all white. And I had to stand on the top of a ladder, and try to consume a ribbon. It was this long-ass ribbon, and it was thick as shit. And it hit the bottom of the floor, so I literally just... I couldn't use my hands, I just would eat it, and I was trying... I got it all in my mouth so it slowly went up the ladder all in my mouth. And then I had to spit it out, and do it all over again. And I was like, "Yeah, I can do this, that's fine."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And people didn't know that that was me, because I was covered in paint, and I think I might have had a wig on? And so, whoever was there and then found out that it was me afterwards was like, "That was you? That shit was wild, what, ew!" Yeah, so that was my first. And then after that, somebody... I want to say it was Lorenzo Cardim, who also is a local or D.C.-based performance artist, but he's multidisciplinary, because he also does sculpture and... Which, to be real, most performance artists aren't purely that. A lot of them are interdisciplinary.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Although, I think Ayana would argue with that, because she just calls herself a performance artist, but then she's got a background in painting, and that totally comes up in her practice, and then she's a fashion designer, hence the catsuit and all... the way she uses color. Anyways, but I will not argue with her, she's just a performance artist.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But yeah. He sent me a link to... It was him or Eames Armstrong, I don't remember. One of them sent me a link to Panoply Performance Labs, based in Bushwick, Brooklyn. They had a open call, it was for a group show. And I applied for it. And Panoply's really loose, very experimental, so pretty much anybody could show up there and perform. Panoply's run by Esther Neff. So, I went there and I did my first solo performance, which was on skin bleaching. I had been doing a lot of research on skin lightening products and the history here with colorism, versus the history and the present. I mean, that still exists here, but comparing it to what's happening in Africa, in Asia, and... I did that performance, I recorded audio clips from YouTube that were of skin lightening commercials, skin bleaching commercials. Really disturbing, but also entertaining, in a disturbing way.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I made a 30 minute sound piece where it was just the commercials playing. And there's something even more creepy about just listening to it, and not even seeing it, because you just hear them saying all this wild shit and you're like... You hear it more when you just hear the audio, what they're actually saying in these commercials. And I had Saran wrap on my skin, and I had black clothes on top, and so I applied bleach on the black clothing. And then because I was... During the rehearsal, I used real Saran wrap, the actual brand. For the performance I had forgotten it, so I had to run to the bodega and get the discount version, and I learned that, "Oh, Saran wrap, the real brand is the real deal, there is an actual difference between that plastic wrap!" Yeah, that bodega version is not as strong. So, the bleach seeped through, and so I burned my thighs.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But also Panoply had a... Esther and Brian at the time, they lived there. So, it was like an apartment/gallery space, so I ran into their shower and washed it off. But it still burned me. It was too late at that point! But I wasn't phased by it, which again was another signal of, "Oh yeah, performance art is my thing. I can do this." That was a long-ass answer to [crosstalk 00:25:01].
Ravon Ruffin:
It was perfect. I want to go back to motherhood, [crosstalk 00:25:06] interesting and maybe you can clarify it for me? But it almost sounds like motherhood and your artistic practice kind of coincided with one another? You already felt that you were an artist, but you starting your artistic practice seemed to align, or coincide with motherhood in a way for you? And I'm just wondering more about what that looked like, as a mother trying to be an artist? Because I really appreciated what you were saying about wanting your son to see you pursue your passion. But yeah, just thinking about also how motherhood is such a strong part of your practice. Do you think that was coincidence, I guess? Or does that feel-
Tsedaye Makonnen:
No, definitely not. I think that obviously, the artist in me was there, but it was able to emerge, it kind of was birthed because of having my son, yeah. And just the experiences and the hardships that I had gone through, of that transition of being this single person then to becoming a mother, and then having to figure that out. And that's for the later memoir in my 70s or 80s, but I also had to deal with a lot of drama that... God, bell hooks'... I've been reading with my partner her love book. What's it called? Her book on love, huh?
Ravon Ruffin:
Is it not called Love?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I think it's just called Love. Yeah, you right, you right! Yeah, I'm making it complicated, yep, you're right. And in Chapter 3, she uses the term psychological terrorism. Which I don't remember that then when I read it, but I was super young. It's funny when you grow older, and you reread books and how they just mean... You understand them more, and the meanings change. But yeah, I was dealing with that shit, I was dealing with a lot of stuff that could have potentially taken me out, as far as... I don't know, could have taken me to a really dark place. But, I feel like between my son and having to just focus on him, and making sure he's good, and that we're good so I can keep us afloat, and then pursuing this artistic practice, those two things really saved me.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And to be honest it was really the artistic practice, it was just... because it was like... that was the only thing I had that was like, "This is for me. This is my time, with myself." That was my form of therapy, that was my escape, that was my... Also, where I found a real community.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I had a community of friends, and then of course parents who had kids around the same age, and then my doula community was a whole another set, or let's just say birth worker, because it was from childbirth education to midwives and all that. But my art fam really became such a source of inspiration, comfort, healing... Especially when I linked with Panoply, it felt like I met my siblings, or something, from another life? I don't know how to explain it. That's when I met Ayana, Dom, Nyugen Smith, Elizabeth Lamb, Leili Huzaibah, I always fuck up her last name. These people are so dear to me. We're very dear to each other.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
One of us is texting each other at least every day. It's like the tree that keeps on giving, is it the tree? I don't know, what is that? [inaudible 00:29:21] that keeps on giving, that's what that is! But I know that that drive and that connection came from me, but I also think it came from having my son. So, I can definitely thank him for that. And then also the women around me. I mean, yeah especially when I was with Mamatoto seeing those women, Aza and Cassie and all the other Black women that I was around who were... they found their purpose in life, and they were not willing to give that up for anything. To see somebody who can have a family, and still pursue their purpose. And understand that these two things work together, and we'll have to make it work, no matter how hard it is? That shit is inspiring as fuck.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Because it is hard, what? Having children, shit, that shit is so draining and so time-consuming. And something like art, having an art practice, or running your own organization which is what Aza and Cassie were doing is like, that requires so much of your time. If not all of your time, in a way, it's so consuming. But then you have these children, and these partners and families that are also so consuming.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Anyway, so having especially strong women around me to see, "Oh, they've figured it out, I can." I mean, it's corny, but that whole level up thing. You see other people level up, but it only... I mean, if you're open to it, obviously. But it only levels you up. That shit... If I'm around people who level up, I'm like, "I have to level up too." That's my response, yeah!
Ravon Ruffin:
Can you say more about who your collaborators are, and how you all came to find each other? So, you started mentioning Ayana and everybody. And then just say their full name, so we have it.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yes, yeah [crosstalk 00:31:35]-
Ravon Ruffin:
Yeah.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, that crew, like I said... I think it was in 2014 when I did that skin bleaching performance at Panoply Performance Lab in Bushwick, Brooklyn which unfortunately no longer exists. But I think, Esther Neff who started that, I think that she started it either that year, or the year before, so that it was still also fairly new? But it was bringing all of these performance artists from every corner of New York, but also the country, at the time. Because it was one of those few hyper-experimental spaces, where you went there to work out your ideas, because there was no judgment. That was at a time that performance art was not trending, so guarantee that... there was an audience, but that audience wasn't some famous art critic, or some important curator, or whatever. It was just people who genuinely were... who loved performance art. Whether as an audience member, or as a performer.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, the night that I performed, Leili happened to stop by. Because again, it's one of those places, even though I didn't live in New York... It got to a point, because I was going there every other weekend that people thought... In my bio they would put Brooklyn-based, and I'm like, "No, I'm not from here!" But I get why they... because I literally would just drop by. I would drive up those four hours to perform, or to see a friend's performance, or to catch a weekend of performances and hop around Brooklyn. Because I was obsessed, I would say at that time... Actually, I would describe it as I was possessed, because I was doing 30, 40 hour births, no sleep, get on the road, drive to New York. And then spend the weekend there to take in all these performances.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I mean, I always describe that time as like, "Girl, you look tired." I remember, like I just looked tired! But I had to do it, I was so... I wouldn't do that now... Not that I wouldn't do it now, but it's just... I'm in a different phase. Zone, or phase in my life? But then it was like, I was so hungry for it.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
That night, Leili dropped by. And she saw me performing, and she saw me putting the bleach on me, and then the whole... She literally texted Ayana Evans and was like... So, Leili Huzaibah, which is H-U-Z-A-I-B-A-H, and she's a curator within performance art. And a thinker, she's like this performance art fairy godmother for a lot of us. Anyways, she hit up Ayana Evans and was like, "Girl, there's this woman who is putting bleach on herself, and she's doing a performance on colorism, you have to come see this."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, Ayana came. I should ask her, I don't remember if she was at home and she came, or she had been already out? But she showed up. By the time she got there, I think the performance was over, but she was there for the Q&A. And that's the night that we all met. And from then on, it was like... then we all started being on the same bill together. I was like, "Okay, Panoply's a safe space that I'm going to use to figure this shit out." So, I started coming more, and next thing you know I ended up performing at Grace Exhibition Space, which at that time, also was in Bushwick, now they're in the Lower East Side.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But it was basically her, me, Dominic [Duraso 00:35:11] or Dom Duro. Nyugen Smith, we all were experimenting with performance at this very same time. We all were kind of babies, and we were trying to figure this medium out. And there were only these handful of places that had this experimental vibe to allow you to just figure your shit out in front of people. And we were the very few Black people, also. You have to understand, that shit was super white then. Now it's a lot more Black and Brown artists who were experimenting in performance, but then it was... That's also why I think we became so close, because we were the only Black people in these spaces.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Including audience, the audience was white as fuck too. And we're doing these very Black performances, where we're working out our shit, that really, only a Black audience could fully understand what's going on? But we were doing this in front of white people. So then I think, also the comfort of having each other. Because we were all obsessed with performance art, and we were students of it, so you weren't going just to perform, you were going to watch everybody's shit. So it would be like eight performances in one night, and we would sit through all of them.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
It's funny when you look back, but that was such a magical, special time that I have such vivid memories of us just kicking it, and going to go get food, coming back, catching the next performance. Running into people... And the more and more you went, the more people you knew, and you would recognize because it was the same circles. And then yeah, there was just so many nights where we were always on the same bill. You would see Ayana's name, my name, Dom's name, Nyugen's name. There were a few other Black artists too, at that time, who were performing. So then from there, it kind of organically solidified. We became a crew.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And then Esther Neff, Elizabeth Lamb, and Leili started to become these... They were our peers, but they were also... Because they were kind of... they were in performance, and they do perform, but they were more so coming from the curatorial lens, and the academic lens, and... They became our... I don't know how to explain it? Supporters is such a basic way to say it, but if we needed something written up about us, it'd be like, "Let me hit up Leili." Or if we were working through a performance... again, we still have these group texts and emails where, Elizabeth, Esther, and Leili are kind of our soundboards, you know? But also, they were the gateway for us into other realms.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Really, I feel like a lot of us are here... We're these known performance artists now, because of them. Because they just did so much behind the scenes to curate us into shows, put us into contact with these other institutions. Write about our work, help us contextualize our work, give us advice on how much we should sell shit for, how we should package things? They almost were like our gallerists, but not in the commodifying, capitalistic way of... that galleries operate? They acted as our supporters, agents, all of that. I don't know how to explain it [crosstalk 00:38:49]...
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And they really invested in us, and I think that also brought us also closer together as a crew. And then that circle has expanded, and then there's other artists who are in it. Because me not being New York based, there's other artists who are part of that, that I'm not very close with, but I know who they are. Like Zachary Fabri. He's really close with Dom and Ayana. I'm cool with him, I've hit him up, and I've had applications first up that I know he's gotten. And that's the other thing is like, we know each other about that, like, "You got this grant, or you got this residency. Can you look through mine?" Or often we'll share each others proposals, because it's like, "Well, I got this grant here, this is what I did. Look at it, see if you can mimic this so you can get the grant." Or, you know?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, there are more people than I'm listing right now, but that's my core crew. Yeah, and then... Okay.
Ravon Ruffin:
Oh no, go ahead, were you about to say someone else?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And then there's other collaborators, I mean as you know, like Jordan Martin that's... She's being the program director, I think is her title at WPA? But I've been working very closely with her since last year. I mean, full disclosure, we had a friendship prior to that. And then her partner Adrienne Gaither is my studio mate. So, we're already really close, and her and Adrienne have supported not only my career, but my son. They are like my go-to babysitters for Tsenaye, and when I have art shit to do, or if it's just like, "Girl, you need a fucking break. You're burnt out, we'll take him."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But Jordan has like... This show that I've done with them for the Black Women As, and the Living Archive, she really is... It's not even this institutional support she's giving, but it's an actual collaboration where she's like, hand in hand with me, working with me to develop this show, and these relationships with these different artist women, and writers. And now we're coming out with a book, and... So, I see her. And also, she's really helped me develop my ideas, in a much stronger, cleaner way. Because I can be all over the place. And that's the Gemini in me, I think, where I'm just like, "This idea, that idea, oo, oo!" It can be hard for me to stay focused on one thing? I want to learn all of the things.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
She's so brilliant in her way of compressing all those things. It's like, all those things are important, we just need to... What is the thread that brings them all together? And I feel like she's really helped me do that, and it's translated into my practice as well, not just even the show that I've curated with her, and... So, Jordan definitely. I know I had like... I started writing a list, because I'm like, "I be forgetting people." Alisha, that's another one who, I met her [crosstalk 00:41:58] two years ago. Alisha Wormsley, thank you. Alisha B Wormsley. I met her in 2018 when I did the show at the August Wilson Center with Kilolo Luckett. Who, also Kilolo is somebody who, granted she's a curator that I've worked with, but she's invested so much in my career that... she's a collaborator to me, because she's somebody who's brought so much out of me. She saw something in me and she helped to bring it out of me, like, this work with the light sculptures, and then with Ayana Evans we did that two-person performance art show at the August Wilson Center.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So many blessings have come through Kilolo, and connections. Anyway, she brought me to the August Wilson Center, I met Alisha Wormsley. We already had mutual friends prior to that, but we didn't officially meet until 2018. But then since then it's like, her and I... Because she does a lot... her work is centered Black women fully, but also motherhood. Which was just bet. That's something that I will be honest about, I've kind of missed in the art world, because not too many people have children, or if they do, they either hide it, or they keep it very separate from their life? For me I'm like, "Those two things are one and the same." It's also convenient for me, because Tsenaye's always with me. So it's like, "Well, you're going to have to come with me to the studio, you're going to have to come with me to this show. To this talk."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
It's also because... Yeah, A, as a single parent. B, I can't... Well, hopefully I'm going in the direction where I can start to be able to afford a babysitter, but yeah, I couldn't afford a babysitter at that time, I was making nothing, so it was just like, "You've just got to come with me." But seeing how seamless too, for Alisha, that motherhood and her art practice is just one in the same? She had a much longer art career than I have had. She's been in the game for like two decades, fully.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But once she had her son it was like, "Yeah, this is just going to be part of the process now." And that was so refreshing for me. And to see then, in a Black woman, and a Black woman who's succeeding at having both things? Yeah, so her and I instantly have became like this. And since then, we've just been collaborating, and now there's this show that I based on her film, and now we're filming... I'm going to be in her next film, and I'm constantly bouncing ideas off of her, whether it's through text or phone calls. We're going to have a call later, actually, to talk about archiving and being Black women.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, yeah, there's Alisha... I mean, I feel like those are my main ones, Cecily as you know, Cecily Bumbray, or she goes as Cecily Alexa as her musician name. Her and I have been collaborating with such ease, I just hit her up and I'm like, "Okay, I've got to film this performance and I would love for you to just sing whatever you want in the background." Like, "This is what the work is about, you let me... I'll have this loose idea, and she'll come in with her vision as well. But the way we have collaborated, it's just so easy, that's all how I can explain it. She just knows how to show up, and do it.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And I think I am spoiled in that way, that a lot of the other people I've collaborated with also work that way? Like, me and Ayana, it's so seamless. We don't have a script, we'll have an idea. And we work so differently, and we perform so differently, but because we know how to go with the flow, and we're really good at reading each other's energy and... Obviously, that does come with knowing someone for years, and working with them for years, that ease can happen. But I think it is also a personality thing, and how you work together? I know some people can be very anal, for the lack of a better term, and I don't mean that in a bad way, that they have to have everything really structured.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And again, I guess that's why I'm so drawn to performance, I'm super experimental. I have an idea, of a very loose script, almost like an outline of what I want to do, and the materials? But, I think what's beautiful about performance is that the work manifests or comes together in the moment. And I'm just super curious to see what comes out, I'm just like, "Let's see what happens, what will happen in this moment with the audience, and my body, and this object?" So, yeah, I'll often... But, the intention is there. All of the work has to do with being... Black feminism, Black womanhood, sometimes it has to do with migration. Oftentimes it does. Even when Ayana and I are performing, we realized in retrospect that there's parallels to our stories of growing up.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Her parents... they were at the tail end of the Great Migration, which was in the early '70s, that was around the same time that my parents had to escape Ethiopia, so it's like, her parents are escaping the South to go up north, mine are escaping Ethiopia to come here, and then having that... And I hope this is not offensive, but Black people in this country... they are the original immigrants, you know? As far as their story of having to leave, escape white terrorism, and move somewhere way further from where they originally grew up to figure out how to start anew with nothing, no resources, you know? So, her parents and my parents having that story, and then them building themselves up to the point where then they can support their family members. Whether it's Mississippi or Ethiopia for my parents?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Anyway, so all of those layers, that comes out in the work. And it comes out through performance in very organic ways, that doesn't need to be forced or teased out. So yeah, those are some of my collaborators. I mean, I could keep going... Yeah, Martina's another one, it's just like, there's so many people!
Ravon Ruffin:
And that name again? Sorry.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Martina Dodd, that's another... Yeah, yep.
Ravon Ruffin:
Oh, [crosstalk 00:48:25]... time, but I do want to ask about residencies, shows that you've been a part of, but really framing that in support? And so, what has support looked like for you, and what have been those residency... You kind of talked about it a little bit with working with Jordan Martin and WPA, and D.C. but yeah, what have been those residencies that have really helped you hone in on your work? What have been those shows that have allowed you to really think about what's core to your practice?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
For sure. When you said mentors, I realize I didn't shout out El, so El Anatsui is like... For me, at this point in my life I feel like, probably my main mentor. Even though I have so many like, Martha Jackson Jarvis, like I told you, J.J. McCracken, and then through that Margaret Boozer who runs Red Dirt Studio in Mount Rainier. J.J.'s... she introduced me to Margaret, because she... At Red Dirt, she's a co-director with her. But then there's Leslie Holt, there's all these people.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But the reason I brought up El, is because I did a residency with him. So, I did the D.C. Public Library maker residency, where I was their maker-in-residence for a year. They extended it to a year and a half, because... I think they were really impressed with what I was doing, and the relationship just was really easy, between them and I. And again, because they are in a transition period because of... the maker residency used to be located at the MLK Library, but the MLK Library has been under construction for years.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
It meant that the artist that they were bringing on wouldn't have access to all of the tools that they were giving, but me being who I am, I was just like, "Whatever, I'll figure it out." So again, because I'm such a independent worker, thinker, I pieced it together, and they were really impressed. And that's where my light sculptures came from. When I applied for it, Martha Jackson Jarvis was the one who sent it to me, and she was like, "You should apply for this, and you should apply for... something that you know you can't do on your own. So, think of your wildest dreams of what you want to create, and use that as your proposal."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And it was light sculptures, because I had been obsessed for years about lighting. I still have dreams of becoming a chandelier maker, that's going to happen! But for the purposes of this residency I was like, "I want to create, yeah, a sculpture out of light." And I still didn't have the exact idea of what that would look like? Like, that whole obelisk-looking light sculptures that I have started creating, that came after I started messing around with the materials, which is why I loved that residency, because they were like... And for me, at that time, that was a great budget. Because again, like I told you, I was scraping by as a doula, I was waiting tables, and I was fully pursuing my art career, which there was no money coming in at that time. Especially with performance? Girl, bye.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
That's why we... I think why all of us are so close in the performance art world, and it's not competitive, it's because it's like, what you competing over a $50 honorarium? Who's fighting over that? So, it meant that we had to look out for each other, in personal and professional ways.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
It was a $15,000 stipend for the year, and then... Oh, you know, because... I forgot, you guys were kind of working with them, but I know.
Ravon Ruffin:
Go for it, [crosstalk 00:52:10] people know.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
$15,000 stipend, $5,000 materials budget, and a $5,000 travel budget. For me, my biggest draw was the travel budget, because a bitch loves to travel. I was like, "What? All right." I was already like, "I'm using that to go to Africa, because it's expensive as shit to get to Africa!" And then I'm like, "How do I finesse why going to Africa is important for this residency?" I was like, "I'm going to make it work."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And oh my gosh, shout out to... Fuck, I'm forgetting her name. I'll come back, because I really do want to shout her out, the woman who was running the residency program at the time? Because she was a trained maker, but she left, because she got a way better gig out in Ohio. But she had my back, she was like, "Oh, you want to go to Africa? We'll make it work." I would tell her what I wanted to do, and then she would help me finesse the language to propose it, you know? And it wasn't that I was scheming, I knew it would feed into what I was trying to do, but it was out of the context of what they... I pushed the limits as to what they thought that residency could do. I know I flipped that shit for them.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, that travel budget I used to go to Nigeria, to study with El. I was basically like, "I want to make sculptures using a laser cutter but I'd like to study sculpture more." I mean, at that point, I had already been studying it, but I was like, "Can we use this budget to send me there so I could spend three weeks with him, and learn sculpture making?" Even though I'd be using different tools to make the sculpture? And then I added Ethiopia in the trip, because I was like, "And let's add this flight to Ethiopia, because I'm already on that side."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But I was like, "I need to get materials for the work." Which is what I did. And then of course, I squeezed in all this other shit. So then I basically created my own residency with El. He's never done that before, but he was like, "Bet, come." He has a big ass property, I stayed in one of his rooms, and his studio is down the street from where he lives, in Nsukka, Nigeria, which is on the east side, I believe? But it's the countryside. Super quiet. Highlight of the day is going to the market, there's nothing happening there! Which, you know, as an artist it is dreamlike, because there are no distractions. It really is so conducive for focusing, and getting shit done. So, I get why he stayed there. He ended up there because he was a professor at the university, and then just stayed after he retired. And you get a shit ton of space, he has mega studio space.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But that shit was life changing, like what? To be able to study under, and spend time with one of the most important, well-known sculptors in the world. I learned a whole lot in three weeks. About myself, about my practice, actually how to use material and what... Again, the reason why I think... And it made sense that El became my mentor, because he also is very much about, "How do we flip this material?" The whole bottle cap thing, what the fuck, who thinks of that? Turn these metal pieces to look and feel, and act like textiles, and to look so regal and expensive... And that way of gold and diamonds and... you look at his work, and you're just like... especially from far away, you're like, "What is that? Are those rubies and gold?" Until you get up close, you're like, "Oh."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yeah, you can see the influence in my work. I think being around him, and studying his work, and just talking to him about... Because he's a big proponent of play, just play with materials until you figure out... it tells you how it wants to be used. I think that's directly influenced, why I started... I took those negative pieces, the mirror pieces in my light sculptures, and I started putting them on textiles, and abstracting these forms, and these patterns. And then using them in performance. Yeah, I'm all about... I used to take unfired clay and stuff it with shit, and break it against a wall. Just that destruction, experimentalism, that's all there. And his practice reflects a lot of that.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, that was the first residency. The D.C. Public Library definitely supported me on that, they let me do my thing.
Ravon Ruffin:
Oh, real quick, can you say his full name again?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I'm sorry, El Anatsui.
Ravon Ruffin:
Great.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Or El An actually, I've heard it both ways, but... So those were two residencies in one, I guess? Although the El one, like I said was like, I made that up. It's not like he's got a residency going! And then Jessica Stafford Davis, Martha's Vineyard residency, Savage-Lewis residency, supported by Art on the Vine which is also supported by Agora Culture, that was like, she completely took care of us. We were the third cohort, me and Ayana Evans, Nate Lewis was the first, then Nakeya Brown and Larry Cook. And then it was me and Ayana.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
I mean, yo. She flew us into the Vineyard on these cropdusters slash like... I call them private jets, but you know! These little small planes. Flew us into the Vineyard, so we didn't have to do what most people have to do to get there, which is a hop, skip, jump. You've got to go to one part of Massachusetts to get on a boat to get... It's a whole process. Flew us in and out of that island, both times, for the residency and for the show in August.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Put us up at a shared cottage. Which, that has a whole history, Charles Shearer, being the first Black-owned business on the island. But-
Ravon Ruffin:
Got that NMAAHC shirt on you can...
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Huh?
Ravon Ruffin:
I said you've got your NMAAHC shirt on, so... Right there!
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yep, [crosstalk 00:58:58] there at NMAAHC, yep. That's so funny, I didn't even realize that-
Ravon Ruffin:
I saw the top earlier and I was like, "She repping."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yep! And the two women, Lee Shearer who is the direct descent of Charles Shearer, that's her great, great, great, great-grandfather, and Emily Thomas, who is her sister-in-law, they both take care of the grounds. And they took care of us. It was like we were living with our aunties. We felt like we were at home, and it's a cottage, and it's old-school and vintage, so the vibe is really nice and beautiful. A lot of the Black people who are their visitors are recurring. They come there every year. They book up super fast, because people just love that experience there. And back in the day, really important people stayed there, like Paul Robeson and the likes.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But also now, apparently Harriet Tubman's great great-granddaughter, or great... She stays there every summer. There's a bunch of Black writers who stay there, and it's quaint and really picturesque, and just peaceful. You feel like you're in the South, that's the weird thing. It does not feel like New England at all, when you're on that part of the island. Yeah, and they took care of us. Emily drove us around to our wild-ass performances, she took us to Aquinnah. And then she's the one who entered us, introduced us to the Inkwell Polar Bears who now we're super close with, and have been inducted with, and Caroline Hunter, who's the leader, she's been in our performances, she was a part of our August Wilson Center show. We felt at home instantly, and now we have this large family, of mostly women.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Because that was the other thing, that island has such feminine energy. And it's like, thanks to Jessica, we had a weekly stipend. So, she paid for us to be there, and then we had a weekly stipend of $500. We were taken care of, it never felt... Because there are times when money's tight, or you're in these spaces, and somewhere like Martha's Vineyard can be expensive? Where you have to feel like you've got to be really careful... And we know how to budget, shit, especially coming from performers, we know how to budget. But, you can't really relax.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But we were relaxed. And not to say we were spending mad dough, but we were comfortable, we knew we were taken care of. And also like I said, hanging with the Polar Bears, hanging it with Emily and them, we found out where the discount spots were, this place got free lobster on this day, and, "Go to this library because they've got..." Because they're all these elder women who are living on the island. They're not tourists, so they know where all the hook-ups are. That's the funny part is that, the spots we ended up in were the spots where the locals were. So I think that too, really helped us be embraced by the scene there.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yeah, and then Jessica... We had our ideas for the installation for the exhibit, for Art on the Vine. She was down, she was like, "Yes, we'll do all of that. However way you want to do it." We did two performances during Art on the Vine, she supported that. We did the one that was guerilla-style of us wilding out in Edgartown on the street, and the cops got called and shit. We're half-naked, just being ridiculous, but she... And I think what I appreciate about Jessica was that she was so open to these things. And again, kind of like the way the Library reacted, she was like, "Yo, y'all flip this shit." She was like, "I don't know who's going to be able to come in after you guys, because you just took this residency and ran with it." But it was because she was so open and generous, and willing to let us do that. And gave us no boundaries.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, there's that. Kilolo Luckett's another person, even though I haven't done a residency with her, she has put me into two major shows, both of which I've gotten major press from. And just super support, I don't want to say an endless budget, but she makes it feel endless, because she's just like, "All right, tell me everything you want to do, and I'll let you know what is possible." And then she somehow makes it all possible. From the light sculptures, she hooked me up with my fabricator Steve, who I... Now, we're family. Alisha B Wormsley uses him too. I love that I'm saying her middle... the B part, only because my partner finds it funny, he loves her name, he's like... When I'm like, "Oh, I've got to call Alisha." He's like, "Oh, Alisha B Wormsley?" I'm like, "Just stop!" So now I'm saying it!
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But yeah, she hooked me up with one of the best fabricators on the East Coast... Well, I guess Pittsburgh is the Midwest but whatever, you know what I mean. Just so many people I've met through her, because she has that power of bringing people together, and she's such a good connector. And then she also is just... She's brilliant in the way she's like, "You need to know this person." Or, "You need to work with this person." And like, "This person will help you develop this idea." And she has that spirit of, kind of what you guys said, you and Amanda when you were introducing this whole project to me, of you want to let artists be artists? That's her vibe. She wants to let artists be artists.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
She handles all the work around that, so that you literally just have to show up. Also, she spoils the shit out of you too, just like Jessica. Oh my God, puts you up in hotels, and flies you in and out, has these glorious dinners for you, and... for the first show at the August Wilson Center, because it was so big, the group show, Familiar Boundaries. Infinite Possibilities. Nakeya Brown was in it, Stephen Towns, Skikeith, Martha Jackson Jarvis, her daughter Njena Jarvis, and the list goes on. I mean, there's so many people, Vaughn Spann... Shit. You already... I don't know, yeah. It's like 12 of us.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But there was a whole ass party for this show, like big... I don't know, I'm like... it was just a big ass event, and it was days of just being spoiled, it was great. And then her connecting us with really important writers, who... That's then how my friendship developed with Jessica Lanay, and so she's written about my work multiple times. Like, for BOMB magazine... That's another person who I would say is a collaborator of mine. She's going to be in the book for this show that I did with WPA. Sorry, I know I'm just rambling, but-
Ravon Ruffin:
No, it's [crosstalk 01:05:53]!
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And it's funny, I think that Martina Dodd is somebody too... A curator, I feel like, who's taking care of me, even as a friend but professionally as well. You and Amanda... What other residencies have been really... I haven't actually done that many. Just, the ones I've done have been really game-changing for me.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
My first residency was 39th Street Gallery. It was a residency with a studio, which is in Mount Rainier, actually. It didn't come with much, but it came with a free studio space for six months, and that's where I developed my Common Ground performance that was the performance I did in D.C. about gentrification, migration... in front of Compass Coffee, and then Zenebech Restaurant, which was an Ethiopian restaurant that was closing at the time. But that was actually my first, official studio space that was my own.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And I was like, "Oh, this is why studios are important." Just to have a space to sit and think, that's not your home, not somebody else's energy and shit. Like, it's just yours. I wasn't even making that much physical work at the time, because I was creating a lot of installations I was just performing in, so it was a lot of ephemera that I was creating. But just being able to write shit down, and put it on a wall. And then mapping out ideas, and Post-its, and... That was definitely a gateway. Those little things you realize that's like... The person who does it for you is like this... small support that I can do for you. But it's like this major stepping stone. That was a point where I was like, "Okay, I need to get to a position where I can afford a studio space. I need a studio. Or, I need to find other residencies that will give me a studio space."
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And that was in 2015, 2016? That was a big catalyst, I feel like. That led for me to... Just expand my possibilities, and see that this shit really is infinite, and it's out there, I just need to keep moving forward, and stop being my own sabotage, you know?
Ravon Ruffin:
As a performance artist, as a Black woman, what has funding looked like? How have you been able to fund your work? Are you able to live full time as an artist? Yeah, just what does that look like for you? Or have looked like for you?
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Girl, it's... I mean, like everybody, it's a windy ass road. I haven't taken the academia route, which I think... if you can do that, that's probably the safest way. Because then you have teaching to fall back on. If you're not adjunct, because that's shitty, being an adjunct teacher. At least from what I've heard, from my friends, there's no support, no healthcare, minimum wage, and then you get all this work dumped on you.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But anyways, my God, girl... The last two years, I've been officially a full-time artist without side hustles. I can say that. And the Public Library, that was that jump. When I got that stipend, I was like, "Okay, I can work with the stipend, and then apply for grants. And if I get those grants, then I can just do this, and not..." But prior to that again, I was waiting tables. I was waiting tables at a restaurant, shout out to my girl Shadora Martin because she... Another Black woman say coming through! But women in general, but the restaurant we worked at, she was the manager, and then the restaurant owner was a woman.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, she agreed to letting me... Because I had to work there, and I lived right around the corner from the restaurant. But I had to work there in the evenings, they were open only in the evenings until 10 o'clock, sometimes late as 11. But of course, I'd have Tsenaye. And the shift would start right after I'd pick him up from school.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
So, the owner was like, "Yeah, you can bring him, just keep him occupied." There was a basement area that wasn't being used, so he usually would hang out down there, but obviously he wouldn't stay there the whole night, he'd end up upstairs. But then Shadora, being the manager... She made sure that everyone took care of him. The kitchen staff would make him little... His little bougie ass, he'd have those cheese plates with bougie cheese, salami, olives, all kinds of things. That is his favorite thing, actually, he always brings that up when he thinks about that restaurant. He'd be hanging out at the bar with his coloring book!
Ravon Ruffin:
This is telling me a lot about why his personality is the way it is!
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yeah, so I ditched him like that. Which I mean... There's probably a lot of people who probably clutched their pearls you know, being like, "What? You would have your son up until 10, 11 o'clock sometimes because you're working?" And then we'd go home, and then it'd be school in the morning. I mean, he did his homework done, and he's brilliant. That I would say, with him, I'm so grateful for, it's so easy. When it comes to school and academic shit, he's got that. I rarely have to help him. He's so self-guided in that way.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But I was doing that. I was doing the doula work for three or four years. I had to stop, because I got to a point where I had to make the decision of like, "What is going to be my career?" Because I could not do both. They both were too consuming. Being a doula... In one month I'd have six clients, because I'd have two who are in their pre-natal stage, that I'd be working with for nine months. There was the two that were going to give birth at any point in the month, so you'd have to always be available, because that phone call could happen in the middle of the night, or whatever? And then I had two who were in their postpartum phase. Which I would be connected to for an entire year, but really only present for the first three months where I'd visit and do check-ins, with breastfeeding and how they're healing.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But that was all the time. It never stopped. And then there's all this paperwork that comes along with it. I felt like I was like a social worker, a admin, mother, doula, childbirth educator... All these things for these women and families, you know? Therapist, I'm like, "I did not study psychology, but I'm a therapist right now!" And yeah, it was clear to me, one thing is going to suffer. Like, I can't be that and a full-time artist, and a single mother? I was like, "That just don't make no Goddam sense." So, I chose art, because that's really what I wanted all along. And I knew with the doula stuff I was like, I can go back to that. Once Tsenaye... or if I have more kids, once they're adults, I can always go back to it. I love it, I just know that it requires way more attention than I could give it.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
And like I told you, the trauma too. I couldn't shake that shit off. Maybe that's the sensitive artist in me? I took it home with me, and yeah. I didn't figure out how... that internal boundary of being able to shut it off. And then all the kinds of side hustles, like teaching... All kinds of things. But the last two years, I would say I have been able to be a full-time artist, and I've been sustaining myself.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
It has not been easy. There have been periods where my bank account was at zero or negative for sure. But somehow, something always comes through. Usually a grant. So, I actively apply for grants, like hella applications a year. I will say that this year... I have not gone as hard. Partially, probably because of COVID, and just the overwhelming... I think everybody's overwhelmed! But the experience of my son, all of a sudden being a homeschool parent, homeschooling him. That was jarring like, "Oh, shit. He's with me 24/7. I'm getting no breaks." So, I had to be really easy on myself. So, I've missed a lot of applications this year for that reason.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
But, I don't know, the universe is amazing, but other things have come through that I'm like, "Oh." Like, right now, I'm going through a museum acquisition, and that's going to really help to carry us through. And I'll be able to invest that money too, for the next project. I've sold art this year, more art than I have in previous years. So, things like that have really helped. As you know, now I have gallery representation. Granted, they take a 50% cut, but they've... I mean, so far I can say that they're really doing their job of supporting me.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Because I've done all the admin and... I'm the one-woman show up until now. And you see how hard I go, so it's like... Yeah, I'm seeing the benefits of having a gallery as far as... At least a gallery that really wants to support you, because I know that there are ones out there who... they're in it for the money. But yeah, the way that they're coming through, I'm like, "Oh, I don't have to do that anymore? Oh." Just like, "Wait, what? You got that? Oh, bet. So oh, all I've got to do is focus on making the work? Whoa!"
Ravon Ruffin:
The concept.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yeah, right, right. But yeah, I don't know. I could go on and on, but for the most part, I have sustained myself up until this point with grants. Grants and residencies that pay. Yeah, because again, selling work... really, selling work started last year. And then definitely has really taken flight this year. But last year, because of Art on the Vine. Ayana and I sold a lot at Art on the Vine, or through Jessica. We sold a ton of prints, yeah.
Ravon Ruffin:
That's awesome. Oh, this was so good, Tsedaye, thank you! This was [crosstalk 01:16:26].
Tsedaye Makonnen:
You're welcome. No, I was just thinking about influences/collaborators. This might sound kind of weird, especially because I'm actually in conversation with her now, but Christina Sharpe is somebody who I feel like I've been in collaboration with, even though she doesn't technically know that? So, there's people like that, like Toni Morrison-
Ravon Ruffin:
Yeah, or that you're totally influenced by, yeah.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Yeah, that I'm totally influenced by, and I'm like... in my head, it's a collaboration because so much of their work not only influences my work, but it actually makes it into the work. Or Kimberlé Crenshaw, the say her name, that... Because my life sculpture's like... it's really, is based off a lot of the research that she has done in the African-American policy form, correct? Yeah. Igiaba Scego which is a Somalian-Italian writer, because she writes about Italy's colonizing of East Africa, and then how that in turn has created this migrant crisis of all these Africans trying to get to Europe via Italy, and how they're treated once they're there? So it's like all these other people that I've been... Yeah, Rahawa Haile, an Eritrean-American writer. The list can go on and on. Influence-wise, it's obviously endless. Michael Rakowitz, I'm obsessed with his practice, I feel like a lot of... In some, subtle ways I've mirrored a lot of his work.
Tsedaye Makonnen:
Or not his work, but the way he works. I just love how he deals with history... Yeah, it's really how he deals with history. It's Iraqi history, but in a lot of ways of being American and Iraqi, having those two identities and how he can bring them together through his work? And then also grapple with the fact that this country has fucked up Iraq, coming from the place that has fucked up where he's from, you know? Yeah, anyways, so there's a lot, and then just-
Ravon Ruffin:
No, that sounds great.
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