FACETIME: Kachelle Knowles
Kachelle Knowles
INTERVIEW | “Living in a nation that relies on tourism has convinced people that looking ‘less Black’ is more tolerable.”
WORDS BY MICHAEL ZARATHUS-COOK
DECEMBER 21, 2024 | NASSAU
There are many ways to justify the requirement of a uniform in primary and secondary schools the world over. While “discipline” is perhaps the most frequently cited, the more utilitarian functions of a uniform─such as maintaining the semblance of economic equality, whereby everyone dresses the same regardless of household income─are laudable adjustments to ease the quotidian terrors of teenagehood. On closer scrutiny, however, a uniform mandate can be revealed in a more sinister light: as a mandate for uniformity, conformity, an unavoidable conscription into what a particular society deems are the acceptable aesthetic of commerce and public life. That scrutiny is roughly the aperture through which the portraits of Bahamian artist Kachelle Knowles come into full view.
Born and based in Nassau─the capital of The Bahamas─Knowles is a contemporary artist exploring the confluence of gender, cultural, and social identities, particularly that of the Black community in her country. In her view, Bahamian culture and its education system are two circles of influence that don’t quite form a Venn diagram, owing to the latter’s lingering models of colonialism. Employing an androgynous approach to her portraits, her main subject concerns the depiction of the Black male figure, particularly in a group of works titled the School Boy Series. With the use of colourful fabrics and patterns that are a far cry from the staid plaid of the typical high school uniform, Knowles asks the viewer to contemplate the sartorial spaces beyond uniformity, as well as our preconceived notions of the plurality of Black masculinity.
INTERVIEW WITH KACHELLE KNOWLES
BLACK BOY JOY
CAN | Your School Boy Series upends expectations of uniformity, especially the way we conflate uniformity and discipline as the same thing. How does the sartorial expression of the characters in your paintings reveal a sense of self-direction that escapes the confines of uniformity?
KK — Both private and public schools tend to adhere to a strict dress code that includes how students wear their uniforms and how groomed their hair is. Most of the uniform patterns have been around since the inception of the schools themselves, many of them using plaid, in reference to our previous English colonial past.
Boys are told that their hair cannot be longer than a ¼ inch and any article of accessories presenting self-individuality is discouraged. Until recently, this same sentiment was present in most customer-facing jobs within The Bahamas. Many of the rules on grooming tended to be rooted in anti-Blackness under the guise of discipline within the confines of the school system and the working class.
The tryptic represents reimagined uniforms from a popular government school in The Bahamas, using modern patterns that correlate to their colour coding. These illustrations express an “other world” where tradition is maintained but freedom of expression and Blackness now is highlighted, particularly with their hair length. This aspect of Black boyhood tends to be aggressively suppressed until graduation when they are out of the school system. Living in a nation that relies on tourism has convinced people that looking “less Black” is more tolerable. This mindset is only just beginning to shift, but not fast enough for my liking. Those years of schooling are the most formative years of our lives and it is a shame it is spent convincing young men that they need to be less Black to function in the “real” world.
BLACK & BROWN
CAN | Another interesting inversion of uniformity is in the brown backgrounds that you use for this series—and across your work—which also make up the skin complexion of these figures. What was your evolution towards this style of portraiture that interacts with the compositional background?
KK ─ The brown paper is a mode of hiding. It acts as both the representation of the body and skin tone of Black men, but also as an environment that they live within. The subtle differences between skin and background represent those spaces where Blackness can freely exist and function in comfort and protection. As art exists in gallery spaces that are primarily white—both in its structure, purchasing power, and audience—the works are stark against these backgrounds and the contrast accentuates how much Blackness tends to stand out.
The patterning on the figures is my favourite element of this series because they focus primarily on the figures themselves. Being from the Caribbean, I feel the art world boxes us into that visual “tropical” iconography, and that we cannot exist outside of our islands. By using blank backgrounds for this series, the characters live in an abstract world, worlds created by the viewers, therefore allowing these characters to exist outside of the Caribbean and outside of the exception.
STUDIO SPACE
CAN | What are the therapeutic items in your studio that help to soothe the creative process?
KK ─ Honestly, the only therapeutic things in my studio are candles and a pair of noise-cancelling headphones! I wish I had more items that could get me straight into work mode. I guess I am not there yet. My studio is still quite small. I don’t wish for my studio to be covered with just work though. My space still feels fairly new to me, so my essence hasn’t awakened in the space yet, I’d like to hang more of my work around to remind myself of ideas I may have moved on too fast from, or as a reminder of where I used to be and how my work is progressing.