Q&A: Irene Antonia Diane Reece

By Zora J Murff | February 28, 2021

Organized by Strange Fire Collective (SFC), An Active and Urgent Telling features the work of six contemporary artists working with photography to honor the weight of lived experience through an intersectional lens. Stemming from SFC’s mission, this exhibition centers artists for whom questions of identity deeply affect their relationship to representation. The works included engage with ideas of visibility and invisibility, the reality of lives that exist outside of, or in opposition to, expected and enforced social norms, and the social and political power of speaking one’s truth. Each artist contributes nuance to a redefinition of the commonly understood fabric of difference through an active and urgent telling of their own lived experiences.

Original, in-depth interviews with each exhibiting artist will be posted on www.strangefirecollective.com during the exhibition to illuminate a more thoughtful understanding of the artists and their work. Exhibiting artists include Jennifer Ling Datchuk, Delphine Fawundu, Penny Molesso, Rachelle Mozman Solano, Irene Reece, and Chanell Stone.

Irene Antonia Diane Reece identifies as a contemporary artist and visual activist. Born and raised in Houston, Texas. She earned her BFA in Photography and Digital Media and MFA in Photography and Image-making. Reece’s photographic works, appropriated films, usage of text, and found objects create an insight into her world. The topics surrounding her work are racial identity, African diaspora, social injustice, family histories, re-memory, mental and community health. Reece’s objectives are to continue to take up space, be outspoken about the white-centric art world, and create forms of racial equity in the arts.

Zora J Murff (ZJM): Hi Irene, I’m excited that we finally get to chat here. How’s it going? What’s good?

Irene Antonia Diane Reece (IADR): Hey! Thanks for having me and asking me to be a part of this show! I’m honestly on auto-pilot mode right now. A lot has happened but I ain’t complaining, it’s nice staying booked and busy ha-ha. I’m really excited about this exhibition and working with you!

ZJM: Lol. I hear that loud and clear. Hamidah and I were both really happy about your work, and it was after we selected your work that we noticed a potential throughline of hair appearing in the exhibition. We’ll get to that in a second. What’s going on though? What’s keeping you busy right now?

IADR: I either have people wanting me to exhibit with them or someone wants me to lecture, and recently I’m preparing for exhibitions that are coming up in the summer. The feeling is mixed emotions especially since there’s this gesture that institutions are trying to bring in more BIPOC artists... and frankly, I don’t want to be an art institution's quota for the year. So part of the work I do is to research the institution's history, their staff, their shows, and see if it’s a good fit and safe space for me. That takes a lot of time out of my schedule. It also just feels weird not having a set job and working on something different almost every day. I feel like I don't have a routine regarding work but the rest of my life seems to be in order. Like structured chaos (I cringed as I typed that).

ZJM: When we started the process of curating An Active And Urgent Telling, your work Malo Pelo no. 2 came to mind for me because the term malo pelo or bad hair is such a political statement for many reasons. Specifically, I thought about colorism, something you often reference in your work. It expands this idea of lived experience in really good ways.

When you consider the term “lived experience” in relation to your work, what are some things that come to mind?

IADR: My lived experience is my story to tell; it can intersect with other issues in my community or I can relate to someone else’s but I felt it was important to showcase what I went through and still go through today. We see this in the Black community as well regarding what is deemed as good hair and skin tone. Malo pelo no. 2 was based on being told by family and friends that I look prettier with straight hair.

I remembered in my adolescent years going to a predominately Latinx elementary school. During that time the majority of my friends were in the Latin community. I had noticed I would get bullied whenever my hair was down or when my dad would pick my sister and me up from school. My mom is Mexican but I didn’t speak Spanish, and my hair was always an issue, so it raised questions about my identity to my friends and peers. It was apparent as I got older that type of bullying was a form of anti-Blackness which is taught. And it wasn’t just me or my sister that would receive bullying. I noticed a lot of the dark-skin Latinx folx at my school would get picked on as well. As an adult, I have friends of friends or strangers that will bluntly tell me that they don’t hate Black folx or they have Black friends (whatever) but if their daughter or son were to come home with one that they would disown them or disapprove. If you didn’t know, that’s racist. You can still be racist and be around or be related to Black folx. Recently I went into a clothing store and this older Latin couple had walked by me and called me a mayate. My partner is a lighter completion Latin man and he heard them say it first and immediately was enraged. When I tell y’all, I ain’t even heard that word before. You could feel the hate in them. I have always been called a morena or half-breed by other non-Black Latinx folx. I’ve been told my skin tone is just right, I’m not too dark, but I would be more pretty with straight hair. I have always been disrespected when it comes to my kinky hair. You can’t be Latin apparently if you have kinks and naps and Afrocentric features. But I knew that wasn’t true because my father would always show me photographs or films that have the representation of Afro-Mexicanos, Afro-Cubans, and Afro-Brazilan folx when I was a kid. Granted my identity is different from theirs but it was the closest experience and representation I could consume as a child. And I still learn a lot from Afro-Mexicanos. I find references, books, social media, and art that help me understand why I have so much discourse with Latinidad and my culture in general.

I appreciate the community that I have made in the past 4-7 years from my undergrad and grad school. I have friends from El Salvador, Brazil, Mexico, Puerto Rico to Colombia and we can discuss these issues. And as a community trying to combat this further by practicing on a daily by unlearning/learning, calling people out, having discussions with our family--it’s an effort that extends outside of us. I have to keep reminding others and myself it takes time and energy to discuss these things. I’m continuing this series because I do live in a predominately Latinx city and I still deal with these issues. It honestly needs to be discussed more. The fact that all these lived experiences are still happening and repeating, it’s so important for me to call it out and then talk about it. I think the worst part of all of this is the denial within the Latinx community about anti-Blackness. Being Latinx is a range and it has no rules. However, our community believes there are all these rules, which are backed up by colonialism, celebrating only whiteness, and the erasure of Black and Indigenous folx. The goal isn’t about representation in the Latinx community, the goal is to treat Black and Indigenous folx like human beings.

ZJM: Thank you for sharing that, and for being vulnerable. The subtlety of the ignorance you mention is what always gets me, and inside of institutions, it’s the nuance that leads to folx being able to explain harmful behavior away through things, “not being their intention.” A primary way of reducing such harm—in my opinion—is empathizing with others. I don’t know you very well, but the times I’ve come into contact with you and your work, empathy or empathic is always something that comes to mind. Is empathy something you think about actively while you’re making?

IADR: I don’t even think it’s subtle probably to them but to us it hits different. Honestly, when someone hides or ignores the social issues that are going on in the real world I look at them sideways. You can’t hide from it forever. Racism is everywhere, and it links to almost everything--here--there, and everywhere. It’s even worse when people ask me to validate my experiences to justify if something is or isn’t racist to them which ultimately determines if my art works for them or not.

Having empathy is taught, or you learn, and I notice people confuse it with sympathy. I just want you to see or feel how I feel when I’m making the work. I don’t need you to feel sorry for us, it should affect you in some way because it isn’t just Black folx problem, it’s everybody’s problem. Whether you are part of the problem or you experience it. Empathy, protection, and vulnerability are my best friends. I wear those actions/feelings with pride. There is always a deep personal connection that drives the body of work that solely belongs to me alone because it is my experience that I first display within the work. In a bigger sense, the work has always been intended for my communities that I represent only. If you have an issue with that then bye. I am giving you permission to enter my world and I can easily take it back.

ZJM: Over the last year, we’ve watched as organizations have been forced into difficult discussions about the hard truths of institutional racism and the fallout of misrepresentation, under-representation, or non-representation. In this time where we are able to be more frank about identity politics, what should we be focusing on or talking about?

IADR: Let me just say as someone that has been asked to be on a Diversity and Inclusion committee for their graduate school--draining. Watching spaces send out emails of books to read and putting out inclusion statements--a waste of time. Books can’t fix everything if you don’t have the commitment to back it up. Someone that has experienced multiple forms of discrimination and nothing being done about it--traumatizing. One thing I will say is, if a cohort, student, artist, BIPOC employee has spoken out about the abuse they have received, you don’t go and ask them to relive those events. This is for the folx that are wanting to be an ally all of a sudden. Also, what privilege...so much privilege, for white folx to ask someone that. We don’t need your performative allyship.

That’s honestly such a rough topic for me Zora and it could go so many ways--it can go left so quick haha. You, of course, probably have some idea of the different methods people have tried to “eliminate” institutional racism and bring in representation. It always feels like a marketing ploy with all this corporate marketing shit. I always respond with questions so please forgive me kin.

Do these spaces and places intend on letting go of the power they have? Will you allow yourself to be vulnerable and admit you have privilege? Will you admit you profit off of my oppression? Will you hold yourself accountable entirely? Will you stop forcing western white-centric views on art? Y’all know hiring a Black curator, artists, professor, etc. isn’t real equitable change right? Doesn’t make you diverse either or progressive. The institution itself can harbor whiteness and the abuse can still continue. Y’all know DEAI ain’t there to solve the problem, they can’t fix your racism--they are there to help those that are affected by it. There’s honestly no firm answer because of all the multitude of problems that exist. Granted they intersect with one another but you have to tackle each one accordingly. I think that’s the problem, they just want one plan and to roll with it. Just a cookie-cutter plan that has no empathy, no morals, and still full of whiteness. I was reading Sara Ahmed for my thesis research her book, “On Being Included: Racism and Diversity in Institutional Life,” I remembered all the scenarios she had given and the implications behind these methods of “fixing the problem.” When the problem could be those programs themselves. It could be HR, it could be the people in leadership positions, the board members--the history of the institution itself. You can’t just try one method of decolonizing, or D&I, or hiring a Black person; each institution is different. I feel it’s gonna take years...years for equitable change. I have an issue with all of these institutions talking about wanting change but will take offense when we become critical of the very institution. This whole process is going to be uncomfortable, IT’S GONNA BE SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

ZJM: What does the future of photography look like to you? How do you think your work fits into that?

IADR: Kinfolx I don’t know. Hahaha. My background is photography and image-making--been leaning on image-making lately but I hope photography breaks more rules. By rule-breaking I mean we don’t allow the “social art” norms of what photography should and shouldn’t be. Don’t let the past control your own narrative of what your work should be about. I mean if I’m keeping it all the way 100--I look forward to more BIPOC photographers taking up space, more BIPOC jurors/curators/spaces (there are so many already but need to be in the forefront). I’m like Issa Rae, “I’m rooting for all the Black people.” Haha. I look forward to (US - BIPOC artists/ art culture) being taught in school, being a requirement in the curriculum; not as an elective but as a mandatory requirement. I look forward to having more deep discussions about Black photographers' work, not just the nuances but really dive into our work. I want to talk about the layers, theory, emotions--not the surface level of Black photographers and their Blackness.

I cackle when people ask me if I see myself as a photographer. Yes-no-yes. I think I fit in photography but not traditionally. I have been called a radical photographer, experimental photographer, archivist, artivist, and other things. I remembered in grad school my instructor told me that I should stop calling myself a photographer because I don’t take enough pictures. Total BS by the way. I think that happens a lot with wanting to label me because my practice is all over the place. I’m in control at the end of the day and will forever be unapologetic with my art practice and myself. I make work with family archives, analog, digital, collage, and image-sculpture pieces versus this well-defined structure narrative of what photographers are. My work fits outside the institution’s frame-work like many other BIPOC artists that I look up to. I’m just trying to follow in their footsteps and add more to the work that is already being done. So that hopefully, I impact others just like those artists impacted me.

ZJM: What are some things you have going on outside of the studio?

IADR: Right now focusing on being more gentle with myself during this time we are in. Self-love and mental health has always been a priority and I’m making strides every day; some little--some big but at my own pace. Your productivity doesn’t define you as an artist. I haven’t taken a photograph since November and I feel content with that. I keep reminding myself I’m not a machine and I should use this time to celebrate myself and the work I’m slowly cultivating.

Regarding work-wise: I was recently was selected for Black Rock Senegal Year 2 Residency. I’m preparing to leave in the fall for Dakar, Senegal. I’m excited because I feel that work is going to be so intense, for I will be overwhelmed with emotions. I honestly feel like I’m on autopilot even writing this as I stated earlier. I’m very surprised that I have been able to accomplish so much--I am no multi-tasker by any means. I’m surviving and thriving! I have been busy cultivating things with amazing folx, such as being a contributor to a book that is filled with all Black writers, academics, and creators alike—for an amazing anthology edited by Tarana Burke and Dr. Brené Brown called: You Are Your Best Thing VULNERABILITY, SHAME RESILIENCE, AND THE BLACK EXPERIENCE. I’m honestly still in shock I was asked to be a part of it. My series Billie-James is showing in a group exhibition called Unraveled. Restructured. Revealed: Where Contemporary Art and Diverse Perspectives Intersect at the Trout Museum of Art, in Appleton, Wisconsin. I do lectures/ artist talks for universities from time to time; it’s gratifying to influence or motivate the future art students (still available if you want me to talk in your classroom elementary to university, I love doing it). I am also preparing for two exhibitions coming up this summer—which you’re just gonna have to wait and see. Hopefully, that’s it for this year. Next year is a different story.

ZJM: Irene! It has been a pleasure getting to know you better. Thank you so much for doing this interview, and for participating in the exhibition. I’m looking forward to seeing your continued growth!

IADR: I honestly want to thank you Zora. Seeing all the work you do, I have nothing but respect for you. You are as authentic as it comes and someone I look up to as I go through my journey in the arts. Seeing Black representation and seeing you put in the work is very liberating for me. Keep killing it kinfolx! I truly hope we will work together in the future again. Stay blessed kinfolx for I am forever stressed, with so much love and rage.

—Bean. (Irene)