"Art Makes Better Humans"
Politicking and Partying with My Brother Irvin Weathersby, Jr., and Our Community
“Is there a way to champion art and artists without detriment to others? Certainly, but what she was advocating—an anarchist vision of a return to a before that never was—was equally outlandish and insightful. Can we affect lasting change through systems irreparably stained by white supremacy? How can we operate outside these systems and mechanisms that govern them without blowing it all up?”
, “Art Makes Better Humans,” In Open Contempt: Confronting White Supremacy in Art and Public SpaceOn January 16, 2025, in a packed theater located inside the famed Brooklyn Museum, Irvin Weathersby, Jr. and I got to sit down and talk about his debut essay collection/memoir, In Open Contempt: Confronting White Supremacy in Art and Public Space.
As I said in the opening caption, I prepared quite a number of questions for Mr. Weathersby—five printed pages worth of questions to be exact. I had the advanced reader’s copy (also known as an ARC) of his book with me, one that I had marked up terribly with underlined passages, notes in the margins, and a rainbow collection of Post-It page marker signets.
This is largely why I’m an incredibly slow reader, by the way. I can’t read a book just to read it. I have to stop to examine metaphors, sentences, settings, strategies, structures, and wisdoms, and make note of them. Sometimes, I re-read the same passage over and over again because maybe I couldn’t understand it on the first read or perhaps I found that it was just so beautiful that I wanted to sit with it longer. In any event, I don’t like to skim; I like to immerse. Though, I do get mad at myself when I’m reading. A voice inside my head judges me harshly for not being able to go faster. I’m sure that’s tied to the fact that because I read so slowly, I will get to read far less books in my lifetime than I wish I could. And mind you: I have to read them in traditional form. I prefer print to audio. And I need a physical copy in my hands, as opposed to digital on a screen, for reasons of both nostalgia and because, due to the multiple sclerosis, it’s easier on my eyes.
(My snail’s-pace approach to reading is also why I can’t be a teacher. There’s no way I could cram several novels and several stories into a single semester and expect myself, much less my students, to get from these works what we’re supposed to get from them. Again, I’m interested in inner visions, not overviews.)
Anyway, Irvin was not deterred by my overzealousness. First, he tried to outdress me. Came in the spot a few minutes late for dramatic effect and then walked into the green room smooth as fuck, like Lenny from Good Times (only people of a certain age will understand). He had on these brown leather boots that were shined to olskool glory. But I was all “you ain’t finna stunt on me!” because I took my sartorial inspiration from the cover of his book—and the cover of his book showcases an amazing piece of art by the genius Titus Kaphar, from page 4 of his “Farm Book” collection. I say all that to say: We were fly.
Second, like the headliner that he is, Irvin had an opening act. Jazz musicians Seth Trachy and Dezron Douglas got busy for the crowd and played for the gawds before Irvin graced the stage.
Third, he glided to the podium to great applause and read the prologue from In Open Contempt titled “Losers and Trophies.” The prologue really lets you know that the “confronting” in the subtitle of the book is for real and not for show.
Then Irvin and I got to it. We were conversating in the tradition of our people. No games were played. Well, some games were played because that’s how big brothers and little brothers do. But for the most part, we kept it high-post.
Afterwards, we got to partake in the best part of being an author: Meeting readers and autographing books.
And because you can’t have a book release in Brooklyn without celebrating the sheer wonderment of it all, Irvin invited us to a very live afterparty at this dope spot called 333 Lounge.
I wasn’t the master of ceremony or anything like that, but some words were spoken.
Best of all, though, was how much this event was a reminder. It was reminder that I find myself inspired to be the best artist I can be, the best person I can be, through community rather than competition. Being in those rooms with Irvin, and all the other amazing artists we know, crystalized for me why I would never aspire to be “the only [fill in the blank] in the room.” I find that it’s not just a lonely and bitter position, but also a tragic one; not to mention a dangerous one.
I would rather the optimistic outcome Brother Irvin writes about in In Open Contempt:
“The word it getting out, it seemed. The spaces we share are offering more opportunities to see and understand each other, and for this, I left hopeful.”
May each of you—somewhere, somehow—encounter something that, or someone who, allows you to leave that meeting feeling seen, understood.
Hopeful.
Blessings upon blessings,
Robert
All photos and videos (except the one with book on my desk and the club video with the dancehall music playing) by Andrew Askaripour-Wendt aka FifthGod.
Irvin’s Recommended Listening
“Stay On The Battlefield” by Sweet Honey in the Rock
Recommended Reading Is of Course Irvin’s Masterpiece
In Open Contempt: Confronting White Supremacy in Art and Public Space by Irvin Weathersby, Jr.
Irvin’s Recommended Viewing
Black Art: In the Absence of Light (HBO, 2021)