JASMINE AMANDLA’s Hand-Dyed Shirts Tell The Story of Haiti’s Rich Past
New York, New York
JASMINE AMANDLA’s Hand-Dyed Shirts Tell The Story of Haiti’s Rich Past
7/19/2020
Textile artist and cultural curator Jasmine Amandla uses the passed down tradition of hand dying to create pieces that reflect her Haitian roots, the African diaspora at large, and black surf culture. With projects such as her ongoing “Pwoteksyon” photo series and “Wata”, a limited run of hand dyed shirts that have steadily gained a loyal following, Jasmine aims to share her research with everyday people in a medium they can understand it best.
How did you get into hand dyeing?
My mother is a textile artist. She trained as a designer but on her own time she studied dying techniques of various cultures, primarily Japanese shibori which is a resist dying technique. She consistently practiced that for most of my life, learning new techniques and honing her craft. As I got older, I played with other areas of textile design, things that I thought would fit with different projects I was working on. With Wata, that’s when I really started to dive into hand dying and took the time to learn more about what she had been doing for so long. It made sense with the narrative I was working on. Since then I’ve tried different techniques, different dyes, and I’ve even tried to make my own dyes and pigments.
Do you have any goals you want to accomplish through your craft?
I find that anything design or art based that I do is a vehicle for information. My dad is very interested in history and throughout my life he’s been very adamant about me knowing my background on both of my parents’ sides and understanding where those cultures came from. That’s something that has allowed me to navigate the work and social environments I’ve been placed in. If I’m learning something that’s important for others to know, especially people coming from an experience similar to mine, then I want to give them this information in the most exciting, palatable way. For me that happens to be textile design. If other people can understand where I’m coming from and be just as excited and interested in learning as I am, then that’s my goal. It’s not about being a big designer and owning my own fashion house. If 20 kids coming from all over the diaspora can get just as hyped about a paper from Kamau Brathwaite- people that have thought about the experiences we’re still going through today- and find them through a t-shirt that I dyed that’s excellent!
Last year, you took on a project in collaboration with Noah Clothing and the Whitney Museum in which you dyed 200 hoodies, each with its own unique shade. That's a big deal! Can you describe what that process was like for you (physically, mentally, emotionally?)
It was a really interesting challenge because most of my work is small scale. It’s purposeful in that I didn’t want this project to be about scaling and ending up in different department stores. I consistently put out a small number of pieces because each one takes a lot of time and energy to create and I wanted people to understand that. I think when there’s a certain amount of care that goes into it, that garment ends up having a soul so I wanted people to see that. To go from that to being challenged to keep that same energy but scale it, I initially wondered if it would be possible. Ultimately, I enjoy those challenges. I’d rather take on something challenging in order to learn from it and see if I’m able to accomplish it instead of passing on it. The process was difficult mostly because of the sheer size of the project and having to dye outside. There are factories with machines that give you consistent coloring and efficiency but with hand dying there’s not much you can do to expedite that process and make it super efficient. You have to be patient, mix the dye a certain way, and wait for it to adhere to the material. There are so many things that can go awry.
I spent a lot of time outside in a quiet environment so there was a placid nature element to it. I had a lot of time to think about the process, what I was doing with my own work. I think I learned a lot of patience and to be in nature in a way that wasn’t passive.
Emotionally it was trying in some ways but it was exciting to take on that challenge so overall it was a positive experience. It was tough but to see the sheer amount of work that was done and achieve this variation of color with each dying session was very gratifying
Physically it was very trying. The hoodies are 26 oz each. Noah produces quality garments and it’s a company that I have a good relationship with. I respect Estelle and Brendon (Noah’s cofounders) immensely. They’re really good people and it shows not just in how they present the clothing but how they source the materials and how those garments are produced so
I wanted to bring that same energy to the dying process. Our goal was to have each piece feel special from each other. That was difficult but ultimately it was the only way to get across the idea that Estelle spearheaded.
What fuels your passion for ethnocultural research?
Where do I start? I think I was lucky enough to be exposed to a lot of it from an early age. My mother is from Louisiana. My ancestry is descended from chattel slavery so we have this interesting mix of African and specifically Cajun Creole culture through French colonization. On the other side my dad’s from Haiti so it’s interesting having two sides where the makeup is very similar but their experiences happened on two different sides of the Western Hemisphere. I was always aware of this dynamic growing up in New York, an area full of first generation people from all parts of the planet. I grew up primarily with Caribbeans and I’m very close with my Haitian family but I’m also very aware of my mother’s side. I was exposed to the history of my own family and what that was in these respective spaces. Interacting with other parts of the diaspora, there can be interesting tension that happens whether it’s the relationship between continental Africans and African Americans or African Americans and Caribbeans. Because these experiences differ not everyone sees eye to eye. I was exposed to this growing up and became interested in it as an adult. Specifically how different parts of the diaspora relate to each other and parts of the culture that they respond viscerally to for example telling jokes in a certain way or using cadences.
Even in my experience going to Accra to visit my friend for the first time, I felt so comfortable because it reminded me of Haiti in so many ways whether it was the food or how people related to me. I think that experience on an emotional level is what made me dive in further. Starting with water and our relationship to it in different parts of the diaspora was a simple enough starting point.
Aside from your personal work, you were also a menswear designer for Outlier. How would you say those two experiences differ?
In some ways they’re very different in terms of how the garments are produced. Outlier is a mens technical company but the focus is on lifestyle. We explored performance wear materials and applied them to garments that would integrate with the wardrobe of someone living in an urban environment. The common thing between my personal work and my main career is that it always begins with the material. It’s very different in terms of how it’s produced and even the demographic are polar opposite. Being a black woman that is primarily producing for men functioning at a certain socioeconomic level who lead lives deeply different from mine was an interesting experience. It’s a learning curve that’s benefitted my career and broadened my range of design. With my personal work I needed to come back to myself and see the people around me that I’m with constantly. People I care about and want to see succeed in the situations that they come up against. I thought about what I could do for them by reflecting on the similar situations that I’ve come from. So much of me understanding myself involved going to Haiti, spending time in my dad’s hometown with family I hadn’t seen since middle school and understanding that my inclination for art, music, and history is coming from a place. My dad’s ancestry in Haiti goes back to the 1800s. One of my ancestors was a revolutionary in Haiti and that’s something that’s been passed down for generations. Recognizing my background and source of personal strength and knowing that my personal history was part of the greatest black revolution in the Western Hemisphere-that’s the kind of energy I’m trying to maintain. In a way, the experiences have been different but my approach to design has always been academic. I enjoy doing a lot of research whether it’s on how forms are developed and what’s best for certain environments or figuring out what allows people to feel good. I’m very research heavy and it brings me joy. That’s always my starting point even though the products may not look the same.
Pwoteksyon
Photos by Luis Alberto Rodriguez
What does water mean to you?
It’s this great neutralizer. What’s been fascinating to me is how despite all the things in my life that may feel like a big deal, going to a beach or large body of water brings me back. It started from a very meditative place and with the way I approach understanding things and then it became academic. Even on my shirts I’ll print “There’s no new wave, only the sea”. It may seem like there are new genres, trends, artists etc and it’s exciting to progress but ultimately we’re all contributing to this canon of work that humanity has developed. I step back and think about how no matter what I’m working on, ultimately I have to be good. It’s not the end of the world if a project doesn’t go the way that I expected it to.
I did a project called Pwoteksyon between 2016 and 2017 that melded different parts of Haitian culture. I had all these jackets embroidered by a Haitian artist that I work directly with and I presented them back to the Haitian community in East Flatbush. It wasn’t about “being on my art shit” or trying to get into a gallery. I made these pieces as a reminder that regardless of what we go through, this is where we came from. I ended up meeting Dyani Douze who came to the show and they later wore one of my pieces in a MoMA PS1 performance. Because they’re Haitian as well there was already a connector between us so in the dialogue that followed us meeting, we combined our respective research. There was something about that really organic meeting point with someone that made me dive in more and think about how some of these narratives from our culture exist in African American culture. The idea of African women pushing their children into the water and ultimately forming a new community is a narrative my dad grew up with and that is present in Haitian literature so it was interesting to see it reflected in African and African American culture with Tekno and Drexciya. All these things made me deeply interested in figuring out how I can contribute to this powerful thing that viscerally connects the diaspora without being strongly academic.
Photo by Guarionex Rodriguez Jr.
Your line of Wata merch has become a fan favorite. The t-shirts seem to sell out as soon as you make them available! How did Wata come to be and what do you think attracts people to it?
Essentially, it’s taking different parts of the African diaspora’s relationship with water, flipping that, and looking at it through this kitschy, tropey lens. I’m thinking about Lords of Dogtown, Ocean Pacific, Ron Jon...the surf culture of the mid 70s to late 80s that’s such an American trope. It’s always been this thing like “oh this is what white folk do” but I’m like no black folk actually have their own thing with water. So I took this framework that in some ways is most accessible in this country in terms of their understanding of beach culture and used that as the access point. Then I integrated conversations about Mami Wata, Ayida Wedo and general African spirituality manifested itself similarly in different parts of the transatlantic slave trade. Whether you’re a believer or not, it’s amazing to see that culture exist and flourish to this day when the colonizer community has attempted to stomp it out, as well as when it’s not celebrated in the diasporic community itself. Vodun is a HUGE part of Haiti from the revolution to our day to day and folklore but it’s still seen as this negative thing so it’s interesting to me that black spirituality which derived from that has always been framed as this negative thing.
In terms of why people are drawn to it, I think it’s the work that goes into each garment. I really make a point of creating them all differently. I love running into people and seeing a t-shirt that I distinctly remember working on, why I mixed certain colors together, the mistakes that happened. I’ve definitely had conversations with people where they’d say “this colorway is very popular, why don’t you make more of that?” but I love seeing the differentiation that happens when people have their own special colorway. I think that’s something people can relate to in a lot of ways whether it’s the fluidity in the diaspora or gender and sexual fluidity. I think it’s something anyone who views themselves as an individual can bring into their own life and have as their special piece. It’s not something they copped from Urban Outfitters or Zara or even a luxury brand that so many other people have. They know that when they buy a shirt, it’s literally the only one that exists.
What do you have planned next?
A few things are in the pipeline. I’m working on another job where I’m collaborating with another artist. With each release I enjoy working with other artists to bring these ideas and narratives into a visual space so people aren’t only experiencing it through text. It’s also important for me to work specifically with black folk to properly tell the nuances as well as to have exciting dialogue. There’s definitely more coming! Even just collaborations with other Caribbean artists inside and outside of New York. A lot of that will be coming out on my Instagram so stay tuned!
Any last words?
So much of this project has been about connecting with people who understand what it’s about, even a little bit because a lot of it I’ve been figuring out myself. To meet like-minded people is one of the most important things to come from this. Thanks for taking the time out and meeting with me!