Stepping into the Dead Yard

This spring I had the pleasure of attending the video art exhibit and installation titled DEAD YARD, crafted by cultural art worker RASHEED PETERS (b. 1997, Jamaica) in Chicago, IL. Having observed this work for eight months, from its early rough-cut stages to the physical exhibit, I've been tasked with summarizing Peters' incredible personal use of video art to examine, process, and cure himself of sorrow in relation to the loss of his father, OWEN PETERS, to whom the piece is dedicated. By way of DEAD YARD, Peters has created a living and breathing technological obituary for his father. Through Peters' despair, we are offered an opportunity to dream of new ways to store, honor, and archive memories through new media approaches, while being introduced to a form of grief work that rejects the capitalistic bodily need for movement in times of deep sadness, prompting us to reimagine, reinspire, and recontextualize our sacred grieving traditions in a new world with new awarenesses.

Before my review, though, I want to offer an understanding centered on the four consumptions of grief and how it will often reveal itself within the cultural work of an artist.

Grief consumes, and it does so quickly. The first consumption is through loss. That loss can be of anything. A loss of innocence, of a game, of an understanding, of a relationship. That loss hurts, yes, but the possibility that it might be reconciled often provides solace. It is not until that loss becomes definitive, like losing a loved one, that the complicated language of grief finds you and your journey begins.

The second consumption is the revelatory moment when you realize that you are not exempt from it. As in, you too are subject to the deep despair that comes with the transition of a life. From then on, grief is a part of your human experience, whether you ask for it or not. That hidden contract burdens you as you anticipate how loss will continue to follow you.

The third consumption is when grief begins to feel physical, as if it is sitting right next to you as you fall deeper into despair. As you befriend it, grief becomes omnipresent and begins to exist in a variety of different modalities, shifting as you move through life with a continued sense of urgency. Grief begins to chase after you, following you, finding adaptive ways to meet you wherever you may be.

And the fourth consumption is when grief chooses its form of expression in your life. The way we choose to exist with our grief is often expressed through the routes of creativity we bind ourselves to. Some folks create music to sonically honor the essence of their lost loved ones. Some folks create poetry to lyrically twist their tongues in reverence for lives once lived. Some folks use paint to offer a variety of interpretations of personhood. No matter the form, you realize you are engaging in grief work and that it involves creative aptitude; it requires a level of imagination that will imprint the memories of lost loved ones onto you for as long as you live. It urges you to hold on and to remember for as long as you can. You learn to cohabitate with this omnipresent experience for the rest of your time on earth, until your transition from this place becomes the orbit of someone else's sorrow.

This consumption-turned-work is lifelong and should be considered an active process, one that isn't finished. This active duty can be most clearly seen in DEAD YARD by Rasheed Peters.

Situated within a corner on the second floor of Abbot Hall at Northwestern University, audience members gather together. Tightly packed, viewers shift their bodies to open spaces between others to witness the exhibit. They find stillness, and then they are transported to the DEAD YARD.

A heart-shaped chair sits atop green terrain grass. The grass curves and stretches tall from the ground to the wall. Wooden crosses rest upon black-stained windows with white borders. A case of Red Stripe, with a floral arrangement tucked behind it, sits among candles, creating an altar with a photo of Rasheed's father. We, the audience, are in Rasheed's backyard, a cultural replica of his homeland, Jamaica, and a site of remembrance for lost loved ones called the Dead Yard.

The Jamaican tradition of the "dead yard" is a cultural practice deeply rooted in the island's African heritage and spiritual beliefs. The dead yard is a designated space within a Jamaican community, often located near a church or family home, where the deceased is laid to rest. It serves as a sacred and communal space for mourning, remembrance, and honoring the departed.

In the dead yard, graves are meticulously cared for, adorned with colorful flowers, candles, and personal mementos reflecting the deceased's life and personality. Family members and friends visit regularly to pay their respects, share stories, and offer prayers and blessings. The dead yard is not just a place of grief but also a space for celebration and unity, where the living come together to commemorate the lives of their loved ones.

Peters, who has been living in the U.S. since 2016, doesn't simply recreate the dead yard. He uses a variety of multimedia art forms to examine his grief and call forth a new version of this sacred practice. From meticulous and detailed production design, to visual elements situated across four different screens, to the sonic world created for viewers, Peters forges his own version of the Dead Yard. A version that allows for this spiritual ritual to take place within different locales outside of the homeland, one that feels everlasting. A version where the celebration never stops.

The sound design and musical score feel like a calling. Or better yet, praise and worship. Rooted in the calling forth of individuals into a Christian religious experience, we hear deep ember voices singing, "I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say." Peters sonically invites the viewer into his own personal memories. We ebb and flow through these quiet moments, transitioning from hymns to the crackling of fire to the sounds of birds, allowing for a sensory experience that makes us feel as if we are physically located there.

The overhead lights take on traditional Jamaican colors that envelop the exhibit with warmth as they reflect off the white walls surrounding the space, deepening the dimensionality of the experience for its audience. Traditional Jamaican floral arrangements are placed lightly in and around the exhibit, framing the screens and walls and representing growth for Peters. To me, these small arrangements represent the long process of grief, marking time as if Peters is still at his father's dead yard - as if the world around him has moved on and outgrown the timeline of his grief while he's still there.

Within Peters' interpretation of the Dead Yard, he situates four screens throughout the space. Each screen plays a productive role in the world-building of the physical space. Observational location footage of Jamaica allows the exhibit to breathe in and out as we see nature simply exist.

Peters' interviews are structured as vignettes, with each subject having an opportunity to share a moment or a personal story about his father. It's an intergenerational conversation between Peters' paternal grandmother, his uncle, and his mother.