Kailyn Bryant

Yet, We Heal

curated by Morgan C. Mitchell

oil paint, oil pastel, acrylic, fabric, string,
modeling paste, masking tape, and collage material on tar paper
96 x 60 in.

newspaper, glitter, yarn, oil pastel, acrylic paint, chicken wire, plaster, and oil-based ink.
  72 x 216 x 24 in.

oil paint, yarn, glitter, oil pastel, acrylic paint, shredded paper, aluminum tape, and china marker on stretched canvas.
36 x 48 in.

Kailyn Bryant (b. Birmingham, AL) creates dynamic, richly colored multimedia artworks that articulate the ways in which identity, whether individual or collective, shape personal and political manifestations of grief. The tactility of identity markers, such as gender presentation or the styling of one's hair, serve as a starting point for these considerations. In the video works  two similar perspectives are exposed though unified symmetrically by animations, symbolizing the universal nature of loss that lies beneath the grieving process. By individualizing her subjects with varied colors, form, and textures, Bryant reconstructs the dynamic individual to highlight the scope of the fragments that synthesize into a community.

Untethered to any one medium, these paintings, sculptures, and films are multidimensional vignettes that facilitate a harmony between emotional and political healing. These explorations of interiority work to validate both the individual and collective experiences of loss; an increasingly quotidien circumstance following the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement in the summer of 2020. Yet We Heal is a meditation for the future, a model for how we as a community can reconcile with individual and systemic trauma to acknowledge the past while remaining optimistic about the future. This young artist demonstrates a high level of technical skill and chromatic acuity that evokes, above all, a zeal for the limitless, restorative possibilities of a world that embraces curative spaces.

oil paint, oil pastel, acrylic paint, sharpie,
masking tape, and china marker on tar paper.
96 x 36 in.

In Strange Fruit Hanging, the horizontal black line serves as a divider, symbolic of inequality and discrimination. The top portion of this work is white with red and blue stripes with three white stars and symbolizes the idea of American freedom. The 21 black stars below the divider represent the average number of Black citizens murdered (mostly by law enforcement) across the country every week, hence the white stars. Words from the 1954 poem and song performed by Billie Holiday, Strange Fruit, are embellished above the figure’s head, reminiscent of American lynchings. Lastly, the phrase, “I don’t want to be a strange fruit hanging”, noted at the foot of the piece acknowledges the most recent cluster of baselessly murdered Black people, creating an intense feeling and awareness that as a person of color,  any one of us could be next; continuing the harvest of “strange fruit'' in America.   

oil pastel, masking tape, china marker,
modeling paste, and acrylic on tar paper
60 x 96 in.

video, animation, and music  

video, animation, and music

For inquiries, please contact: info@straightlick.com

Artist: Kailyn Bryant ︎ ︎
Curator: Morgan C. Mitchell ︎ 

©Black Art Sessions