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hube: Animation, sound, performance, and video games are diverse mediums you use to communicate the experiences of being a Black Trans person. How do you navigate the challenges and possibilities each medium offers, and how do they contribute to the overall narrative you’re crafting?

Danielle Brathwaite-Shirley: I conceptualize ideas first and then choose the appropriate medium, even if it means I need to spend time acquiring new skills. Proficiency in a particular medium is not my primary concern; instead, I focus on what suits the idea and serves the narrative. Each medium has a purpose, be it the stillness of paintings conveying amazing images or the challenges presented by sculptures with their inherent distance. This also extends to video game engines and the Internet, which I consider as integral to my work as traditional forms of art. 

However, for me, the audience itself is the main medium. I want to provoke emotional responses, not merely create aesthetically pleasing art. My goal is to transform art and influence how the audience interacts with it. In an art space saturated with detached consumption, my intention is to break through this barrier and offer a new experience for people.

I do not want art to be out there for just conceptualising. I want the audience to go on a personalised journey through the video game. For it not to view the artwork safely, but feel responsible for the choices they make in the game. I’m not trying to make the audience step into my shoes and understand Black Trans people, I am not interested in that. Instead, I want everyone to walk away with a unique experience based on how they play. 

h: Your practice involves intertwining lived experiences with fiction to imaginatively retell stories. How do you approach the balance between personal narratives and the creation of fictional elements within your work?

DBS: When creating textures or environments, I typically use real images, turning them into elements like grass or wall textures. For instance, the 3D environments, 2D elements, and sculptures all find their origins in actual real people rather than arbitrary designs. I am not trying to recreate the story they told me. I capture the essence of a person’s story by using a picture of their skin as the foundational element; I’m an archivist in my own way but definitely not a traditional one.

Listening to someone’s life story provides me with a sense of who they are, even though it’s not a comprehensive view. My goal is to transfer this essence into the game, like capturing a soul fragment into the work.

The process involves extrapolating a single story, often small in scale, into an entire world and environment. If, for instance, the storyline is about someone’s upbringing, I explore elements that could have supported them during that time. Maybe they needed someone to hold their hand when a police person was approaching? Crucially, the goal is to avoid recreating trauma. While a world could be built around a negative experience, the focus is not on the traumatic event itself.

This dichotomy places visitors in a unique position, experiencing a new environment for a limited time, challenging them to navigate choices and emotions. The work, while rooted in the experiences of Black Trans individuals, invites everyone to relate to universal fears and anxieties.

I intentionally avoid the artificial representation often found in mainstream media. My focus is on creating relatable experiences. The abstract storytelling approach ensures a more personal and authentic encounter for each visitor.

h: Playable games have the potential to reach a diverse audience. How do you see the interactive nature of your games contributing to a broader understanding and appreciation of the Black Trans experience?

DBS: I don’t believe the interaction with my work provides a broad understanding of Black Trans experiences. It’s not intended as an educational tool; I’m not here to teach you about Black Trans individuals, their words, appearance, or identity. 

My starting point is crafting the work for those it represents, archiving their stories in a way, that parallels the writings of Bell Hooks or Audre Lorde. I guide you through an environment where you must make choices that carry a sense of responsibility. Visitors often feel judged as they navigate these decisions in a public setting, adding tension and pressure. The aim is to instil a sense of responsibility, making you aware that your actions can impact others. There are no neat conclusions; instead, you leave questioning your choices and wondering if you’re failing yourself or others.

Art, in my view, should provoke genuine emotions and potentially encourage change, making individuals better for themselves. While I may not be certain of achieving that yet, sparking thought is a very important step in the process.

h: The 12-month residency with Studio Voltaire seems like it was an incredible opportunity. Could you share some insights into how this project came about and discuss the impact it had on the development and scope of the exhibition and public programme you worked on during your residency?

DBS: The residency with Studio Voltaire came about in 2022. Back in 2021, after hustling through my first solo shows, I was knee-deep in creating different works. Two shows, two different vibes – one took the audience on a trip tracing your ancestors, dealing with the history of slavery. Were your ancestors the ones who carried or were they carried across the sea? The other was SHE KEEPS ME DAMN ALIVE, diving into anti-violence and the allure of guns in video games.

Then Studio Voltaire popped up during the GET HOME SAFE show. Meta, excited about their headsets and media quests, saw a chance to join forces. Now, headsets aren’t exactly party-friendly, so we spent the residency figuring out how to make VR a group experience. Motion capture from the headset turned into a tool for creating, not just an accessory.

VR is usually this personal thing, but I wanted to bring that intimacy into a room. Make it a shared vibe. The final show was not about VR, but it soaked up the insights from that journey. It’s about talking about problems a lot of people have to deal with in real life – addiction, self-doubt, personal growth. Mixing the virtual and physical, creating a space that’s all about connecting with yourself and others. 

h: The project aimed to create physical and digital spaces for workshops, discussions, screenings, and community gatherings. Could you reflect on how these spaces evolved throughout your residency at Studio Voltaire, and what impact you hope they have had on encouraging community engagement, especially in the context of the upcoming exhibition THE REBIRTHING ROOM that marks the end of the residency?

DBS: I’m not sure if they evolved. For me, the thing that’s really come up as residency, which is quite surprising having that it’s all based on a VR headset, was the importance of actually making these environments physical. It’s counterintuitive, but I don’t know why it became like that. For most of the residency, I have been trying to figure out what I can leave out of the 3D environments and then put into the physical environment.

Many of the new works I’ve made have no voice acting at all. The reason? During testing, I found out that the voice acting in the work, although really nice and super accessible, sometimes stops the work from being so personal and becomes a lot more entertaining. When you read something, you hear your own voice, you pay way more attention to what’s being said. 

The Studio Voltage show has no voice acting at all. There’s a large portion of it that’s just massive bits of text asking you to say something out loud or asking about if you’ve ever done something similar. And then I let you sit in silence. There’s nothing that’s going to give you relief from your thoughts. 

I think that the main thing that the residence really helped me with is figuring out and definitely improving the way I install work and where the focus should also be. And so now, I think the focus is more evenly spread than it was before.

h: Considering the exhibition’s focus on the viewer’s emotional experience, could you discuss the role of empathy in your work? How do you aim to create a sense of connection between the audience and the stories you present?

DBS: Empathy is an interesting word in the context of my art because I’m not exactly gentle with the audience. Instead, I am trying to ignite a fire within it. Whatever that is, especially lately, I’m trying to spark something within you. 

Inherent selfishness seems to dominate our actions, whether they revolve around our individual selves or our close-knit communities. This realisation struck me during the residency, and I aspire to channel this understanding through my work, creating a sense of care and connection among people in this space. Achieving this is a daunting task; figuring out how to encourage people to extend empathy beyond themselves is a challenge. However, a breakthrough occurred during a performance at the DePaul Art Museum in collaboration with the talented artist Ava Wembley in Chicago. Somehow, we managed to create a moment where attendees were prompted to exchange words of encouragement. Instead of the typical niceties, the room transformed into a vibrant conversation, with people chatting away. It was remarkable, the first time I witnessed a performance where the collective exhale was an expression of relief, a realisation that they could engage with others freely. That experience highlighted my desire for empathy and a focus on others rather than ourselves.

I hope that my work achieves this, not only instilling empathy within oneself and urging personal growth but also empowering individuals to support others during challenging times. The nature of the work is demanding, and I must emphasise that the new pieces I’m creating are exceptionally tough. It’s not about creating a light-hearted, humorous experience; the work is intellectually challenging, rooted in profoundly human and relatable concepts. 

h: The concept of representing the Black Trans experience suggests a commitment to visibility and recognition. How do you balance personal narratives with broader societal issues within your artistic practice, and how do you navigate the responsibility that comes with representing a community?

DBS: Navigating the challenges of representation and responsibility within my community is a difficult task. There isn’t a strict technical formula for it; instead, it’s about doing the best you can and embracing the possibility of failure as a valuable aspect of the creative process. I hold the belief that if a show cannot risk failure, it might not be worth doing. Taking bold risks, even if they involve saying the wrong things or facing criticism, is crucial for authenticity. While creating, I don’t feel an overwhelming pressure to represent the entire community; I consider myself a part of it. My role is more about capturing and presenting the experiences of those I collaborate with. However, I am conscious of the limitations of my understanding and strive to learn and improve continually.

My focus is to create spaces that resonate with the community, making them feel seen and heard. This involves setting the tone, as seen in the terms and conditions I establish for my spaces. By explicitly stating that it is a Black Trans space, I want to create an environment where individuals feel a sense of belonging. This contractual approach, while unusual, serves to define the space and its purpose. I recognise that there are works better than mine that achieve this sense of connection, but I emphasise the importance of creating spaces tailored to the community’s needs, even if the work itself is disparate. The terms and conditions, in a way, become a contract between the audience and the space, a commitment to providing a space that is pro-Black and pro-Trans.

h: The use of Berlin as a backdrop for your work adds a contextual layer to your art. How has living and working in Berlin influenced your artistic expression and the themes you explore, especially in the context of your upcoming major survey exhibition?

DBS: Certainly, different life changes influenced the way I create art. Here, in Berlin, I live far from the city centre. I am often alone with my thoughts. This allows me the time and mental space to delve deeply into my work. Of course, the fact that I am now travelling more often has exposed me to diverse individuals within my community, each with unique perspectives.

This realisation has prompted a shift in my work, making it more inclusive and attuned to the varied experiences within my community. I’ve become more connected to the universality of certain themes. This awareness of the diverse audience within my community has led to a re-evaluation of my artistic approach, emphasising a more careful and relatable perspective.

h: Your upcoming survey exhibition presented by the LAS Art Foundation at Halle am Berghain in Berlin later this year sounds fascinating. Could you share some insights into the concept behind the exhibition and what visitors can expect to experience?

DBS: I shall not share much! The only thing I can say is that the show will feel like a horror movie scene when you are walking down the steps into the basement.