Transparent Black is a video installation that celebrates lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersexed and questioning youth identity. The building structure resembles a dance club. This public space is where the celebration takes place. The viewers are not voyeurs but they are invited to become a part of the celebration, a part of the audience. The main projection, at times, exhibits an excited audience. They are present and are aware of being watched.
Transparent Black uses audio and video to capture an event that has had limited historical documentation. The chants have been passed down through oral history. The dance moves have been transmitted through the body.
In Transparent Black I mix my personal stories, of rupture, spirituality, place and exile, with stories of transgender youth and the ballroom culture to discover intersections of cultural synchronicity. I am interested in ways our bodies rupture, flow, pulse, and are penetrated. Incidents of rupture, flow, pulse, and penetration (metaphorical, emotional, and physical) leave their marks on our bodies and define us.
Transparent Black investigates how balls provide a safe space for queer youth of color to rupture. In an embracing environment, free of homophobia, transphobia and racism, the ball provides a safe space in which queer youth of color can rupture and perform creative acts that identify their unique individuality. The space is a home for exiled youth. Exiled from their own homes and communities that value heterosexuality, biological gender assignment and whiteness. The ballroom community revolves around various houses that are headed by mothers and fathers. This family structure offers a support system that is vital to the development and nourishment of many LGBTIQ youth.
While spending time with the youth I heard them talk about a life-altering beat called The Ha. I heard statements like “when I first experienced The Ha I knew it was something different…” I experienced The Ha on the night of Oct. 30th. The Ha is a house song that is repeated over and over during ballroom performances. It is a song of ritual. The Ha is the heartbeat of ballroom culture. It has transformed me and led me down a path I had not known. A culture that is beautiful, inclusive, and affirming.
Transparent Black took me by the hand and graciously led me into a world that I never knew existed. Although this world exists and lives all around us we decline investigation. We don’t enter the black boxes that these individuals inhabit, transform, and perform in. We do not know their names, gender identity, or life perspective.