Bria Lauren: Gold Was Made Fa' Her

Bria Lauren (b. 1993) is a multidisciplinary artist born and raised in Third Ward, Houston. The south is a sacred and integral part of her work as a visual storyteller, community organizer, healer, and queer Black woman utilizing ancestral healing as a tool to navigate intersectionality as an act of resistance. The heartbeat and intention of Bria’s work intersects race, gender, vulnerability, hood feminism, motherhood, and art as activism. She travels through time using 35mm, medium format, and motion picture film to bridge social and political gaps within her community – to communicate the true essence of one’s identity and truth without censorship.

Bria is the founder of the htx people project collective (2015-2020) - The collective were residents of the Artists Studio Program at the Lawndale Art Center in 2017-2018, and a part of Artist Round 50: Race, Health, and Motherhood at Project Row Houses in 2019. Bria is a two time grantee of the Idea Fund by DiverseWorks in 2016 and 2021, Let Creativity Happen Grant recipient in 2019 by the Houston Arts Alliance, and was an Artadia 2020 Houston Finalist. She was a featured artist for Gulf Coast: A Journal of Literature and Fine Arts in 2021 with The Art of Return: Bria Lauren’s Affirmation of Black Womanhood and she organized the Gold Was Made Fa’ Her exhibition in 2021 at the Lawndale Art Center with curator Rebecca Matalon.

Bria is currently an artist in residence at Womxn House in Detroit, Michigan.

BEF: Hey Bria! How’s it going?

BL: These days when I’m asked how things are going or how I’m doing, I always have to take a moment and breathe through my response. There is so much to unpack when thinking about my wellness in connection to the reality around me. But in this present moment I am doing my best, and all is well. Thank you for asking.

BEF: Before you picked up a camera you studied criminal justice, earning a bachelor of science degree from Texas Southern University. Do you see your formal educational background informing your practice as an artist? If so, in what ways?

BL: If I could think back to where I was mentally in undergrad at TSU, I was an eighteen year old graduate from Jack Yates High School and trying to survive, honestly. I saw college as a resource for me to not be homeless and have some type of stability, but studying criminal justice and early childhood development supported my dream of possibly one day working with Black women and youth in need. In hindsight, my professor Dr. Kimona Dixon has informed my practice not only as an artist but human, too. Early childhood taught me the theory of multiple intelligences, and Dr. Dixon’s nurturing and patience helped me realize that I was not only creative, but I had something unique and special to offer myself and the world. Studying children was a cathartic process for my inner children that needed an outlet and opportunity to play, speak, and be seen. 2015 was the beginning of me exploring photography and storytelling from a place of need and engaging with my community through the lens of a child-like social practice. I found my voice in Dr. Dixon’s class. I strongly believe her teachings were a compass to assist me in arriving to where I am today.

“Ganny” Jewel McFarlin, Yellowstone, Texas, 2020

BEF: Your photographs evoke a softness and a complexity about your subject. What is your process towards creating that connection that is felt so deeply in your portrait work?

BL: Every image I’ve taken began with a conversation, and that is something I prioritize the most during my process. Especially when I am photographing Black women – we are so familiar with systems and people that exist outside of our experience wanting to see us from their gaze without our consent. I intentionally try to cultivate shared vulnerability, intimacy, safety, and trust when I pull up anywhere with my camera. Photographer, Kennedi Carter mentioned in an interview that going into a community uninformed and disconnected is violent and I couldn’t agree more. My hood is the nucleus of my creative process. Rather it be somebody mama, sister, friend, auntie, or neighbor up the street, the foundation of my process will always be rooted in care and conversation when making an image. It’s affirming to know the process is felt, that means a lot.

BEF: Last year you were a part of the Collective Artist in Solidarity with Palestine and Palestine Youth Movement symposium at the Station Museum in Houston. During the “In the Sun” panel discussion, there was solidarity amongst a wide range of people from various backgrounds and parts of the world all speaking to shared experiences with oppressive systems through varying degrees. I wanted to ask, what was something about that conversation that has stuck with you the most?

BL: The In The Sun panel discussion really felt like this call to action when I imagine community oriented work. The day multidisciplinary artist and curator Jessica Carolina González invited me as a panelist, my first response and question to myself was “As a Black woman what do I have to offer to this conversation and do I have the capacity to show up?” At the time I was tired and moving though my own personal work and being confronted with revelations concerning the wellness and needs of Black people in my community. I meditated for a couple days and decided that I needed to be a part of this conversation because the themes CASP x PYM were exploring existed in my day to day life and practice. Hearing multiple people from different backgrounds share similar oppressions with me, and advocating for basic rights and needs affirmed that I am supported in my lived experience and this work isn’t for us to do alone. I left with the agency to unlearn separatist thinking that is so prevalent in marginalized communities, and seeing allyship as an ongoing collective effort. We are truly stronger together, and have everything we need to choose spaces (f.u.b.u) for us, by us— outside of oppressive systems and institutions.

Sista” Emily Sam, Southwest, Texas, 2021

BEF: Do you see your work as re-imagining or perhaps creating a new canon for how we see black bodies, more specifically, black/southern/queer/femme bodies?

BL: I see my work as a way to build a universe for Black hood women and Black communities who've had something to say for a very long time. I think more than anything we need to see ourselves and one another because at the root of all of this — collective healing is the ultimate goal. My work is moving beyond photography and seeing to organizing and reimagining the spaces and resources that need to exist in our communities for infinite sustainability. It’s definitely a bit by bit, step by step process. I’m honestly figuring it out one project and day at a time.

BEF: You’ve spoken about your work as healing both for yourself and your community. Can you share some of the ways this has manifested for you? How have you grown and healed through your practice?

BL: I would say that I am definitely healing through my practice by staying committed to trying. I’ve been trying since 2015 and I haven’t given up, that alone is something to celebrate. Yet, some days are easier than others. I have to acknowledge how much I’ve grown because there was once upon a time when I didn’t speak much, and I didn’t believe that I was capable of doing any of what I’ve accomplished just by staying true to who I am and where I come from. Toni Morrison said, “If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” These days I’m seeing the manifestation of my prayers through community building and co-creating with Black women, artists of color, and creative entrepreneurs that want to be a part of building a better world for ourselves, families, and communities that are often overlooked. A few months ago at the MFAH Obama Portraits opening, a Black woman walked up to me crying with a “Roses Still Bloom In My Hood” poster in hand thanking me for seeing her through my words. Words that I wrote angry with fear of the unknown. I thanked her for seeing me because It was a moment we both needed. Since then, I’ve been working to move in alignment with what my spirit calls for me to do even when I’m afraid and have to step outside of my comfort zone. The work is working, and I’m just grateful to be alive to witness it.

Bud’s Meat Market, Sunnyside, Texas, 2020

Cookie” Saffire Stone, South Terrace, Texas, 202

BEF: Do you have any projects coming up that you would like to share or any excited about working on?

BL: I’m currently an artist in residence with Womxn House in Detroit, Michigan. For the first time I’m working to tell my own story through photography and these personal vignettes. It hit me that I’ve been telling other Black women's stories without pausing to take a look at my own. I’m also in the process of mind mapping how to structure the work I do as a business. I’ll be launching the Gold Was Made Fa’ Her website this year with merch, an updated view of my work, and ways to hire me. I’m projecting the next six months to have some sweetness, rest, breakthrough, and overflow of beautiful things.

BEF: Much deserved. Thank you, Bria!

BL: Thank YOU <3

(This interview is in collaboration with Collective Artist in Solidarity with Palestine and Palestine Youth Movement)

theblauren.com

@goldwasmadefaher