“Last Night I Cried…Unveiling Liminal Spaces” Raven Irabor’s Exhibition on Heartbreak, Transition, and the Passage of Time
Going through a really emotional breakup, trying to figure out how to navigate life post-breakup, how to get back to oneself with ‘the ebbs and flows’ that come with heartbreak and with a gallery for a few weeks – Raven Irabor displayed her Last Night I Cried…Unveiling Liminal Spaces exhibition at the Gallery 90220 in Los Angeles between April and May. The exhibition, inspired by her own personal experience, intended to create a space for community healing for women, especially women of color, who had gone through the same.
Through therapy, she could see how the community, especially the women around her, showed up and were empathetic, something she didn’t expect to receive or experience. With that, she realized that many people don’t have access to therapy, hence partnering with She Recovers Foundation. This non-profit shines a spotlight on the disparities faced by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) women by giving a percentage of the proceeds raised to them to help them access mental health, navigate traumatic events, and acquire self-recovery resources.
Irabor acknowledges that Black people and People of Color have an averseness to talking about therapy. “There is often a lot of shame, especially when it comes to breakups and heartbreak, even though it’s something we’ve all experienced,” Irabor says. “It can be traumatic depending on how heavy the heartbreak was.”
To create an immersive experience, Irabor used music as an element in the curated exhibition. For this, she worked with multidisciplinary artist Sira, who also had a background in film. Having collaborated on projects in the past, that know-how allowed both of them to visualize the user experience into – in her words – a score. “I wanted to make the art a modality for conversation and healing versus people just going for the art,” she explains, “How could we incorporate a film that allows you to experience the soundscapes in it?”
As a result, they created a custom score within the exhibition, which allowed people to understand the narrative and (connect with) the emotions of the photographs. As viewers arrived, they scanned a QR code to access the score, under the encouragement to bring headphones as they walked through the space.
A mirror installation piece accompanied Irabor’s curation. The piece created by another artist, Tatiana Noele, leaned into the call-and-response practices of African Diasporas. She asked people to look at themselves in the mirror. “Throughout the exhibition, the set design has mirror elements in it, so it’s like reflecting on the prompt, ‘When was the last time that you cried?’” Irabor says it is evidently in line with what she sought to achieve.
The first part of the title, Last Night I Cried…Unveiling Liminal Spaces – is inspired by SZA’s sophomore album, SOS, which Irabor had religiously listened to after going through her breakup. The record's opening line off SOS says, “Last night I cried.” It’s sampled from a gospel song, which connected with her because of SZA’s honesty with emotions, particularly anger – something she didn’t anticipate.
According to Irabor, the exhibition is helping people get to the next level of their healing journey and let go of their anger. One of the sub-themes of the exhibition, she states, is time and how it aids in healing. She poses the question, ‘Do you ever get over a heartbreak, or do you learn how to deal with it over time? What does it mean to cry last night versus today?’
Whether creating art played a prominent role in her healing journey or the exhibition was her way of expressing emotions, Irabor believes it’s a bit of both. She states that her intention for the photoshoot was to express what she was going through and ‘cathartic healing to get everything out,’ maintaining that her practice isn’t necessarily a form of healing. Reminiscing on the experience and conversations about how people could use art in that way, Irabor now sees how she could use art to help with her own healing practice and not just other people's in the future.
A first-generation Nigerian and Trinidadian, Irabor defines herself as a Pan-African image-maker whose work is very culture-infused to incorporate her multicultural background. “That means any of the work I do, whether it’s creative direction for photography or curating, anything image-based has elements of Pan-Africanism. I’m focusing on the African diaspora and liberation through art in my work,” she says.
Last Night I Cried is the first exhibition for her that is not necessarily tied to Blackness but a woman-centered one with a focus on women of color. Irabor is aware of the racial nuances of the lack of access to mental health resources for them. Across different women of color from various age groups and cultural backgrounds, she interviewed to understand how these things – which in their communities, when dealing with, are told to be strong – impact them. And despite the cohesiveness, she finds that default elements of Blackness are silently there.
Since the exhibition is no longer on view, Irabor intends to make merchandise to continue displaying the work. Having debuted in Los Angeles, she’s planning on taking it back this October with another organization, but not before satiating her desire to showcase the exhibition in her hometown. The Bronx native is returning to NYC after being in LA for almost six years. Her long-term goal is “To bring it to New York. A lot of people are more conscious of healing and holistic wellness there (LA). New York is so chaotic compared to LA. I think this would be impactful in NYC.”
As a woman of color, Irabor notes the importance of the exhibition statement on the gallery wall, which began with the intention of the exhibition, who they were targeting, and why they were doing it. That itself manifested as a safe space for women of color – one where they were having honest conversations as they walked through. She reflects on the focus on representation and how sometimes it can be a buzzword, especially concerning a breakup, when seeing a black woman express her emotions.
To her surprise, many people resonated with the film, stating her love for the juxtaposition of photography and film. “Photography can be nostalgic and reflective, while film allows for conversation.” This allowed them (viewers) to resurface the exhibition and have a new perspective as they were viewing the work.
Irabor’s mission goes above and beyond. Her partnership with She Recovers Foundation, whose work comprises different subgroups within the organization that specifically focus on women of color – really aligned with and fixated on the exact types of issues the exhibition touched upon.
As Irabor remains committed to making art, the Pan-African image maker isn’t subject-specific in her future exhibitions. As much as most of the subjects usually tend to be women, which is of natural interest to her, Irabor’s openness to exploring her culture and her people – creating only what she feels compelled to and depending on whatever is calling her – that she anticipates as being continuous.
In due course, Irabor sets out to continue the conversation of healing by bringing Last Night I Cried to other spaces and opening up a physical studio space in Harlem. Her intent is still crystal clear – “To serve minorities in the area and give them access to learn that they don’t have to be a starving artist!”