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Projecting A Clear Message

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In Chesterfield County, one couple with strong feelings about the current political climate have begun to express themselves through signs and projections on the front of their house.

A Chesterfield man named Tim Barry — no, not that one — has turned his home into a giant political projector screen.

From a tribute to Ruth Bader Ginsburg after her death to a declaration that “Breonna Taylor Deserved Better” to a projection of Biden’s infamous retort to Trump — “Will you shut up, man?” — Barry’s unashamed political messaging has drawn both support and disdain from his neighbors. 

Tim and Lauren Barry have been involved in politics for a long time, having both worked for political campaigns in the past. Tim now works in public relations for a professional organization. They live in their Chesterfield home with their two young daughters.

Barry says that the first night they projected an image, Ruth Bader Ginsburg had just passed away. 

“That was sort of the impetus to start the projections. We were talking about how upset we were about the justice passing, and the plans the Republicans were making to replace her, and we were upset,” Barry said. “We were angry about the way things were going. We knew we had to do something, and this was something we could do using our combined skills.”

Barry says that his wife, Lauren, is the person who creates the graphics that they project on the house. 

“My wife is a really talented graphics artist,” Barry said. “I do the messages, and she makes them look amazing.”

The projections are not the Barrys’ first political display, however. Earlier in the year, the couple became caught in a battle with the county over a sign in their yard. 

Tim and Lauren erected three large yellow letters in their yard after the killing of George Floyd in May. The letters — which spelled out “BLM” — have been a source of conflict between the Barrys and Chesterfield county officials. A zoning ordinance in the county prohibits residential signs from occupying over 14 square feet of space.

Most of their neighbors, however, have been supportive. The Barrys received a note from one local resident that read, “Goodness… Can I tell you how much this BLM sign means to me?” The note described the lettering as a “huge sign of hope.”

“Our feedback has been 95 percent positive,” said Barry. 

Another neighbor, speaking to Channel 8 News in Chesterfield, said she was surprised that the sign was so “in-your-face,” and said she wished that it said ALM — all lives matter. 

The letters are still securely fastened to Barry’s trees, and he has no intention of taking them down. The process to appeal the county’s decision may take several months, Barry said. 

Unlike the BLM letters in the yard, there are no county ordinances against the projector images. The Barrys start the projector at sundown, and take the image down before they go to bed around 10:30 P.M. Unless it’s raining, they project images every night. 

Tim Barry said that he is afraid of drawing too much attention to the house, in fear that someone who doesn’t like their message will retaliate. 

“I don’t want to go in and make it contentious,” Barry said. “We are genuinely afraid that someone might do something to us.”

However, the house is already gaining popularity. According to Barry, at one point the house had its own instagram page with around 2,500 followers.

Local and state politicians have supported Barry’s messaging behind the scenes as well. When the county first sent a letter to the Barrys, warning them to take down their BLM sign, Tim Barry reached out to state Senator Ghazala Hashimi to ask for support.

“She put us in touch with a senior person from the county,” said Barry. “I’ve kept her office updated on what we’re doing.”

When Barry wanted to put up a projection image in support of congresswoman Abigail Spanberger, he informed her office beforehand so they could give permission. Barry says that other politicians have commented on photos of the house on Facebook.

“People are definitely noticing it,” Barry said. “But no one has asked us to put them up there.”

There was one more thing we had to ask Barry about. Readers of RVA Mag may notice that he shares a name with local musician Tim Barry. Barry says that he’s familiar with the musician, and that he’s encountered people who were disappointed that he wasn’t the other one.

“One time I went and got my hair cut at the barbershop, and people thought it was going to be him,” Barry said. “When I walked in, they were disappointed.”

Photos courtesy Ed Holten and Tim Barry

Two Black LGBTQ Candidates Seek Richmond City Council Seats

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We sat down with City Council candidates Tavarris Spinks and Joseph S.H. Rogers to talk about their ties to Richmond, plans for their respective districts, and how they want to switch up Richmond’s representative voice.

Tavarris Spinks, 2nd District 

Tavarris Spinks, a noted participant and activist in Richmond politics, is a fifth-generation Richmonder and VCU alumnus with strong connections to the 2nd District community. He’s running to fill Councilwoman Kim Gray’s seat. 

Spinks’ childhood in a lower-income community in Richmond has informed his experience as an activist, and so has his journey to become a first-generation college graduate and a prominent member of Richmond’s political scene over the past 17 years.

“You know, I grew up in subsidized housing, like Section 8 subsidized housing,” Spinks said. “For the first several years of my life, I remember having a relatively happy childhood. My parents worked very hard to make sure that I didn’t want for anything, but they also had help from family because so much of my family lives here.”

His grandmother still lives in his old neighborhood, Spinks said, and is able to stay in her home despite rising housing costs due to subsidies for people over 65. But that experience isn’t universal, Spinks said.

“The 2nd District, in Jackson Ward, historic Jackson Ward, used to be a thriving African American enclave. But now, folks are being pushed out by political and economic forces,” he said. “Keeping those neighborhoods together, allowing people, especially black folks, to stay in their homes, is super important.”

His worldview shifted, Spinks said, when he first exited the world of his childhood during a field trip in eighth grade and saw the parts of Richmond that had wealth and well-maintained infrastructure. 

“Once you get older, you start to see the wider world. You know, it took me a while to realize, ‘Oh, we are actually quite poor compared to [other families],’” Spinks said. “We went to the VMFA and that was my first time going. And, you know, riding through Monument Avenue, and then seeing that this is still the same city.”

Attending VCU and living in the Fan gave Spinks a chance to observe the disparities in neighborhoods of Richmond in his everyday life. 

“Running in the 2nd district — this is my home. You know, it’s a great part of town,” he said. “I want to see it get better, and I want to see all of Richmond get better. City Council doesn’t just vote on issues that affect one district.”

Spinks is passionate about developing and maintaining the infrastructure of the city, specifically the accessibility of sidewalks and walkways around construction sites. He lived in the Fan for 12 years, and said he now knows “what it’s like to live in a part of town that has more access to transit services, better roads.” He sees how these issues specifically affect people in the 2nd District. But he said that even more wealthy parts of the city like the Fan and Scott’s Addition still need help with sidewalks. 

Spinks’ advocacy for accessible sidewalks stems from his familiarity with activists in the disability community, he said. He’s observed “folks who are using mobility devices, like wheelchairs, or walkers in the street, facing vehicle traffic.” His sensitivity to this issue comes from his experience thinking about the groups most impacted by the city’s decisions. 

“When I think about a policy I meet, the first thing I think about is, ‘Who tends to be vulnerable? And who can lose in this type of policy?’” Spinks said. “And going from there, I then think, ‘Okay, what are the solutions to the problem that we’re trying to solve?’” 

Photo via Tavarris Spinks/Facebook

This sensitivity extends to the issues he’s observed and lived as a Black and gay man, he said. “Just to be clear, I’m not saying that you need to be gay to understand gay issues or represent gay constituents,” Spinks said. “But, it helps.” 

Living with those two identities is “a lot, frankly, and it’s a lot to navigate,” he said.

Spinks said that while he loves his district’s open-mindedness, he’s also aware that “just 30 minutes” from where he now lives and is running for office, just “trying to exist … I’d have a very different story to tell” about living as a Black man and a member of the LGBTQ community.

“[That’s] one of the reasons why I am politically active, because of knowing how much of my liberty and freedom immediately has an effect in legislation at all levels,” Spinks said. “It made me certainly aware of ‘Who’s in power, how that power is being used, and who is it being used for? And who is it being used against?’”

That issue of which groups have power over minorities has even followed Spinks into his political work, he said. While out canvassing, he was stopped by police officers and asked what he was doing, with the suspicion that he was “up to something.”

“And I was ‘up to’ trying to get people to vote,” Spinks said. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had encounters with police, or interactions with police, that I think were unnecessary.”

Spinks is advocating for a “reimagining” of public safety and law enforcement, he said, and supports reforms that focus on the scope and budget of law enforcement. He said he believes  in returning to “core policing functions” and confronting “systemic dysfunction and racial bias within the department.” Spinks is also calling for the implementation of a citizen review board with subpoena power to oversee the Richmond Police Department. 

Often, Spinks said, law enforcement training doesn’t give officers the tools they need to handle many of the situations they’re asked to. 

“Let’s say we already lived in a place without police,” Spinks said. “And let’s imagine what it would look like for police to exist, and what their roles and functions would be, and their relationship with the people that they’re policing.”

Spinks is also reimagining what the City government’s transparency should look like, he said. He wants to “keep the government accountable and responsive to people.” Citizens shouldn’t have to file Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests to learn about the inner workings of Richmond, Spinks said. Instead, he wants every file to be freely accessible on websites. 

“People need to know why something’s not working, where the money’s going,” he said. “You need to do that, because it’s trust. So much of the City government has lost the trust of the people.”

Spinks has seen much change during his lifetime in Richmond — but he calls it growth, for the most part.

“I want to be a part of helping to guide that growth, and making sure that folks don’t get left behind,” Spinks said. “We should build a better city for everyone.”

Photo via Joseph S.H. Rogers/Facebook

Joseph S.H. Rogers, 7th District

Running for the city council seat in a district against a 12-year incumbent inherently involves “running on a platform of change,” said Joseph S. H. Rogers. While he’s a new candidate for the 7th district, which has been represented for the past 12 years by Cynthia Newbille, Rogers has old ties to Richmond.

As a historian and museum educator, Rogers tends to frame most things with historical context. One example is his family’s connection to Richmond — which is brief, but significant — through Rogers’ ancestor, James Apostle Fields, in the 19th century. “The routes that my family take through the city of Richmond is very interesting,” Rogers said.

Fields was an enslaved man that made his way to freedom from Hanover to Richmond in 1863, where he stayed with his brother John. After almost being captured into slavery again, Fields made his way to Roanoke, Virginia. That’s where Rogers was born, and where his family has been based since the 1860s. 

“I think that we have a tendency in the modern age to believe that everything is new,” Rogers said. “And that we are coming up with radical solutions, innovative and radical solutions to problems, when a lot of those solutions have already been applied. They’ve happened in the past, they have examples that we can refer to from the past. But also in some of those places where those solutions have not yet existed, it’s good to have a historical lens.”

Rogers moved to Richmond in 2014, and he’s been politically active in the city since he became a resident. He said he’s been an advocate for a Marcus Alert and a civilian review board, and part of a lobbying effort on City Hall with the Virginia Defenders for Freedom, Justice & Equality since 2017 to “make those changes be taken seriously, as well,” he said. “And I realized that we’ve been, more or less, right. We’ve been right this entire time.”

His decision to run for city council in the 7th district stems from Rogers’ observations of “rallying calls” being made for political action after George Floyd’s death, he said. But his decision wasn’t “just about George Floyd.”

“Here in the City of Richmond, it was about statues, monuments, and Marcus-David Peters,” Rogers said. “And as I listened to everything that was happening, I realized that there was a lot of anger there. But there was a lot of love that was underlying these messages. There’s also just that need for people to feel heard, and for action to be taken. And I recognize that in myself — I had been at the forefront of those issues.”

Rogers’ desire to be part of that movement came from his struggle to bring issues of reform up to the City Council. He said the lack of response led him to think “maybe we need a different City Council.”

“[Or a] councilperson who will listen to the people, before the city is actually on fire,” Rogers said. 

Rogers said he wants to try to be “that voice that works with the people in the city who are voicing these concerns, before they get to a boiling point.”

In addition to calling for the removal of Confederate statues, one reform that Rogers’ is calling for is the defunding of the Richmond Police Department. His campaign is advocating for a citizen review board, and for the City to invest in building up services that will address the tasks that police are asked to do outside of solving crime “that’s stretched them thin,” like wellness checks or responding to mental health crises. Rogers wants to “divest from the policing model, invest in the community first model.”

“Defunding the police is not even talking about a decrease of civil servants,” Rogers said. “Just different civil servants involved in these areas.”

Rogers’ perspective as a historian is once again informing his ideas for policy. His understanding of the history of crime in the 1980s and ’90s, and the police response to that, has shaped his understanding of the current issues with police departments in the U.S.

“We were told that the way to address crime was to punish criminals,” Rogers said. “Ultimately, that led to increases in funding in police departments across the country. And it led to the demonizing of the ‘criminal,’ ultimately seeing them as other. The problem is that primarily the people who they were claiming are criminals were Black people. And so disproportionately Black people were affected by these policies.”

Being a Black man and a member of the Black community, Rogers said he recognises “that these are things that we need to uplift. These are people that we need to uplift.”

Being a member of Richmond’s LGBTQ community has also led him to recognize issues he plans to pursue while on City Council. 

“I identify as bisexual. That is part of my identity. So in the same way that I bring my being a Black man, also being a bisexual Black man is a part of that conversation as well,” Rogers said. “I also want to acknowledge [that] how I plan on helping the LGBTQ community isn’t just by being bi on the council.”

He said he has plans of “putting forward policy that addresses a wide state of things” that affect the LGBTQ community, such as the high rate of homelessness for the trans community. Richmond’s high rate of homelessness in the trans community and in the larger population is “no different” than other cities, Rogers said. 

Looking at Richmond’s past, Rogers said that the problem he’s seen isn’t that the city has changed, but that “we’ve seen the ways in which it hasn’t changed, and hasn’t done better.”

“It doesn’t look like change from the outside, perhaps because we live in this big world where everything else in the nation is changing so rapidly,” Rogers said. “But then, Richmond is still struggling in those same ways that we thought we were gonna be able to move away from.”

Top Photo via Tavarris Spinks/Facebook & Joseph S.H. Rogers/Facebook

Richmond’s Big Heart Collective Shows Heart With Their Charity Live Album

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An off-the-cuff pre-pandemic live recording from Big Heart Collective, a fun side project featuring some of Richmond’s most talented rockers, has become a fundraiser and statement in support of Black lives.

For the better part of 2020, musicians around the world have been in a forced state of hibernation. Most are unable to go play shows, and many have zero access to a studio. However, 2020 has also been a time of political chaos, and the resulting spark of inspiration from these issues has motivated many artists to release whatever content they can in spite of the quarantine.

Big Heart Collective is one of these bands, and while their recently-released live album — An Evening at Cary St. Cafe — was recorded before the George Floyd protests, it’s release was still inspired by the historic event.

“It was something where I wanted to help out in whatever facet I can,” said BHC founding member Raphaël Katchinoff. “And the only way I could think of was to put a record out and then use that money to donate to causes that were worthwhile.”

The album itself is admittedly nothing too elaborate. For the most part, Big Heart Collective is a side project for all of its members. Katchinoff (Drums), Andrew Carper (Bass), Nick Michon (Guitar), Andrew Sisk (Percussion), Andrew Rapisarda (Guitar), and Tommy Booker (Keys) all play and record with other bands, including Palm Palm, The Southern Belles, The Deli Kings, and many more.

Recording this live album was not even the last music-related activity many of them did before quarantine. Katchinoff was on tour when the pandemic hit, with a band that was supposed to play South by Southwest. Unfortunately, their performance was cancelled.

Raphael Katchinoff and Andrew Carper of Big Heart Collective performing at Cary St. Cafe. Photo by Ashley Travis.

Members of the Big Heart Collective did not even originally plan on recording their set at Cary St. Cafe that night. However, their opening act, Ben Butterworth, has a habit of recording many of his live performances. That night in February, once he’d recorded his own set, he continued recording, and captured BHC’s performance as well.   

Big Heart Collective has had a steady gig at Cary St. Cafe since their origins. Katchinoff founded the group in 2017 as a way to get back into professional music after a long break from the art. The band’s first gig came on Thanksgiving night; Katchinoff assembled a lineup at the last minute. After that, Big Heart Collective became a monthly presence at Cary St. Cafe throughout 2018 and 2019.

Unfortunately, the band’s monthly live shows at the cafe have been completely postponed until the end of COVID quarantine. For now, all of BHC that is available to the public is their album.

But that’s okay, because An Evening At Cary St. Cafe‘s status as a live album by a side project makes it perfect for a charity event. It is a way to put out music during an artistic lull without straining the listener’s pocket, while simultaneously making a positive impact on the world.

Raphael Katchinoff, Nicky Michon, Andrew Sisk, and Nate Cowing of Big Heart Collective work it out at Cary St. Cafe. Photo by Ashley Travis.

“I was on the ropes about putting it out, because it’s not that great quality and it’s not our own songs,” said Katchinoff. “I would never put something out that has covers and then take money from that… The only thing I could think, to feel like it was worth putting out, was to see if I could use any funds people donated to go to organizations that I thought would stand up for the direction of what should be right in this country.”

Like many projects available for streaming on Bandcamp, BHC’s album is technically free to listen. However people may choose to donate as much as they want on the album page. 100 percent of the proceeds for the donations will go to the NAACP and Southern Poverty Law Center, two organizations that work against bigotry and fight for the rights of marginalized groups, particularly African Americans.

Top Photo: Big Heart Collective (Raphaël Katchinoff, Andrew Carper, Nicky Michon, Corey Wells, and Tommy Booker). Photo by Ashley Travis.

“Creative Protests” At Marcus-David Peters Circle Combine Music, Art, and Resistance

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Organized by RVA26, monthly “Creative Protests” at Marcus-David Peters Circle have given creative voice to a community hungry for positive change, even as the space remains the focus for civil disobedience in Richmond.

It’s a place where you can play a pick up game of basketball outside. It’s a place where a community garden grows, nurtured by volunteers.

It’s a place covered in graffiti: “Black Lives Matter.” “ACAB.” “Fuck 12.”

It’s a place where you can take your kids, your dogs, even your babies. It’s a place where people listen to live music, socially-distanced, and laid out on blankets.

Morning yoga at Marcus-David Peters Circle. Photo via RVA26/Twitter

It’s a place with a giant statue of civil war general Robert E Lee, which, unlike Richmond’s other confederate statues, remains standing on its pedestal (for now). 

It’s a place of fun, and it’s a place of protest. It’s a place where groups gather to begin marches.

It’s a place that was once simply called the Lee Circle, or the Lee Monument, but has been reclaimed and re-named by community members and protestors. Marcus-David Peters circle, or MDP for short. It has become a community space for many Richmonders.

“Like any birth story, it was birth and then chaos,” said Marwa Eltaib, organizer of the Creative Protests and founder of the anti-incarceration group RVA 26. 

RVA 26 is a group of people who were arrested on May 31 during protests, including those at what would become Marcus-David Peters Circle. The group now describes themselves, according to their instagram page, as “organizing against Black incarceration and for Black liberation.”

Lady E And Friends perform at Marcus-David Peters Circle. Photo via RVA26/Twitter

In addition to other events, RVA 26 has hosted one Creative Protest event every month of this summer. Along with speeches by activists and organizers, these events feature live performances by local black artists.

“Some are up-and-coming, while some are more established,” Eltaib said. “We try to get new artists out there. We have such a beautiful, eclectic, and diverse array of black artists in Richmond.”

These Creative Protests took place on June 13, July 18, and August 22. They hosted musical artists such as rappers Jason Jamal and Skinnyy Hendrixx, and blues musician Lady E. Some visual artists — such as live painters — have been involved in these events, but the difficulty of doing live art, coupled with fears that the police may come and confiscate the finished product, means that few visual artists have performed. 

“If we have a project like that, we need to take more precautions,” Eltaib said. 

Performance art, including fire-spinner Venus Riley’s dance with a flaming hoop — the grand finale at the August 22 protest — is better suited for the circle. Eltaib says that she hopes to involve more performance artists, such as dancers, in future Creative Protests.

Police have been removing items from the circle since its inception. Some of the art pieces from previous Creative Protests, as well as a small lending library, were removed earlier in the summer, according to Eltaib. A sign marking the circle as “Marcus-David Peters Circle” was removed in mid-August, though the Richmond police department denied involvement in removing the sign. Recently, a new sign arrived at the circle, declaring its name once again.

The new Marcus-David Peters Circle sign. Photo via JusticeforMDP/Twitter

The atmosphere during musical performances was that of an outdoor concert, with people sitting on blankets, talking to friends, and eating. Almost everyone wore a face mask.

Because of the coronavirus pandemic, in-person community events can be few and far between. The spontaneous, decentralized and community-driven nature of the MDP circle makes it so that community is happening all the time. 

“That wasn’t our main goal, but it’s a natural effect,” said Eltaib. 

The main goal of the space, and of the Creative Protests, is to send a message.

“We founded the first Creative Protest to utilize art to continue the conversation of Black liberation,” Eltaib said. “It’s a wonderful way to get the message across.”

At the Creative Protest, organizers wanted to make this purpose clear. Between musical performances, speeches by organizers reminded people that they weren’t at any ordinary concert. At one event, Sheba Williams, director of the group NoLef Turns, spoke at the event about the difficulties of being labeled a felon, especially as a Black person.

When night fell on the circle, projections were shone onto the Lee monument behind the performers. One was the face of Marcus-David Peters, superimposed with the words “reopen the case”. Another was the label “second place — you tried” on the Lee statue’s base, making it look like a gigantic participation trophy.

Photo by Landon Shroder

The circle, which has been occupied by protestors since the killing of George Floyd, may have seen a lot of artistic creativity on display in the months since, but it is still a protest space.

On August 24, two days after the third Creative Protest, people dressed in black gathered in the circle. They all planned to march in solidarity with protestors in Kenosha, Wisconsin after the shooting of Jacob Blake. 

The circle was both the starting and ending point of the march, which wound through neighborhoods before spilling out onto Broad Street, where bike marshals blocked traffic and a few people in cars passed out ice-cold bottles of water to marchers.

Some marchers came on foot, some brought bikes. A few brought dogs on leashes. One protester held a rainbow flag, superimposed with a black power fist. Another protester held a sign painted to look like a spiky coronavirus molecule, which read, “Racism is deadlier than the pandemic.”

Photo via RVA26/Twitter

Julea Seliavski, who co-organized the Creative Protests with Eltaib and is another founding member of RVA 26, said that she hopes the creative protests can bring more of an audience to the Black Lives Matter cause.

“It comes down to care, it comes down to supporting the Black community,” Seliavski said. “People can come in and be radicalized through art. By radicalized, I mean radical softness, radical love.”

Regarding the future of the MDP circle, Marwa Eltaib said that she wants it to become a healing space for the Richmond community to gather.

“You can find food, you can find friends, you can find someone to have a conversation with,” Eltaib said. “If you’re homeless, home-insecure, anyone. I want everyone who comes to feel pride in what Richmond did together. And, I would like the police to stay out of it.”

Top Photo by R. Anthony Harris

Op-Ed: From Kenosha To Richmond, Nowhere Is Safe From Racist Violence

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Transplanted Richmonder Vince Kane misses the days when people had never heard of his hometown, Kenosha. But he also knows that the same problems plaguing his hometown exist all over America — including right here in Richmond.

I’m a Richmonder who grew up in Kenosha, Wisconsin. It’s funny — you never think that your small town will show up on national news or in pop culture. For Kenosha, it was always the innocuous mention in a Weezer Video, or as the home town of the polka band in the movie Home Alone, or maybe as Orson Welles’ birthplace. But sadly, for me, that reality is no more. 

I moved to Richmond from Kenosha in 2008, at the end of high school, because my father got a job at Capital One. I didn’t want to move. I loved Kenosha. I love Wisconsin. I wanted to stay. After getting to Richmond, kids thought it was all corn fields and milk (one even thought it was Canada), and although it’s a lot of that — it’s also a place with diversity and wonderful people. But it has terrible people all the same. I remember my neighbor in Kenosha “jokingly” calling our black lab a “n***er dog,” and that being my formal introduction to that word. 

Ask any student who attended Kenosha’s Bradford High School (located blocks from Blake’s shooting) in the late 2000s why the area under the stairs was called “Little Africa” — because “that’s where the Black kids hung out” — and you’ll understand that racism in all its forms was as pervasive there as anywhere else in the recovering antebellum south. 

Some people in the north love to think they’re immune to racism since “their people” didn’t have slaves — and because they fought against slavery in the Civil War. Well, as we all know, they are wrong. George Floyd and Jacob Blake alone prove that wrong. They think that that the side their ancestors took in the Civil War offers them racist immunity. But in fact, that exact ideal often leads to a racist hubris that makes things just as bad (or worse) as anywhere else in America. No state, no city, no town is immune, from coast to coast. From sea to fucking shining sea.

Jacob Blake. Photo via BET/Twitter

I cried tonight. I cried because my hometown is now world-famous for the worst reason imaginable. 

When I first came to Richmond, it made me a little sad that I had to describe the place I grew up as “40 minutes south of Milwaukee” or “about an hour north of Chicago.” I was proud of my town, even if maybe I shouldn’t have been. Now I know that people will probably know my hometown. But it will be known as yet another in a string of horrific tragedies, signifying just how far we still are from equality for the people of this country. 

Now, I don’t want people to know my hometown. I don’t even want them to know my home country. We are a disgrace. Change cannot come soon enough, and I hope it does. I pray for Jacob Blake’s recovery and for this country’s reformation. If one silver lining is to come from this tragedy, I hope it is another fire on the flame that fuels systemic change. It’s long overdue.

It’s surreal to see politicians and movements so far from where I grew up reference a place that felt so insignificant, so forgotten and sleepy that the local kids called it “Ke-nowhere.” Now I just want to go back to that. Make me pull out a map again to show my hometown, please. Anything but the cost of another Black life. 

Note: Op-Eds are contributions from guest writers and do not reflect editorial policy.

Top Photo via Omar Jimenez/Twitter

The Street Photographer: An Exclusive Q & A with Lamb of God Frontman Randy Blythe

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In the shadow of an empty pedestal on Monument Avenue, the Lamb of God frontman spoke about the chaotic era we’re all living through, and finding peaceful moments to savor amidst the chaos.

Frontman. Author. Visual Storyteller. Philosopher. These are just a few of the words one can use when describing Lamb of God frontman Randy Blythe. Fronting one of the biggest metal bands in the world, you might even be forgiven for making certain assumptions about what an interview with him might be like — because they’d all be wrong. Far from being removed from the chaos of everyday life, Randy is hyper-absorbed into the realities of the moment.

Nowhere is this more apparent than when speaking about his experiences as a street photographer and visual storyteller — two aspects of his work that have been pressed into service over the past seven weeks in his home town of Richmond, Virginia. Even more so since the murder of George Floyd and the start of months long street protests. Yet as every good photographer knows, you cannot capture the emotional depth of the human experience without also being a person of emotional depth and experience yourself. 

RVA Mag caught up with Randy one humid Friday night at the plinth of the now removed Confederate statue of JEB Stuart on Richmond’s Monument Ave. Covered in movement messages, this spot has become a favorite for the city’s skaters and BMX riders. Only a few weeks earlier, the city’s skaters led a march called “Skate in Solidarity” in support of Black Lives Matter; this event saw hundreds of skaters leave Texas Beach, a local skatepark, and descend on the former Confederate statue. True to his skating roots, Randy was also behind the lens for this demonstration before the evening ended with a confrontation between the police and protesters. Even in these kinetic environments, Randy is quick to observe that the quiet moments of humanity amongst the chaos oftentimes make for the most impactful images and social documentation. 

RVA Mag: I think we can start this pretty simply: You’re in one of the biggest metal bands in the world, but you’re also a visual storyteller, so what story are you telling in 2020?

Randy: A rather chaotic one. 2020 has had many stories to tell, starting with the Coronavirus pandemic. This was the beginning of the black ball of chaos that is now rolling down hill. I’ve been out a lot at night in Richmond, shooting — particularly downtown and in The Fan — completely by myself, and the city was utterly empty. People were obviously here, but inside, particularly at night. The streets were really eerie. Then shooting during the day, the few human portraits I would get to make were interesting because they were withdrawn. Because nobody knew what the fuck was going on. 

RVA Mag: I don’t think that confusion has abated any. 

Randy: So that led into the story of the economic impact [of COVID]. I was shooting a lot of shuttered businesses and empty shopping districts. And then the George Floyd protests occurred, and I went out and shot the first night of that. Since then I have gone out and been doing what I always do, which is head out into the city streets and shoot what they provide — what attracts my eye. Obviously there have been a lot of tense moments lately to capture. 

RVA Mag: There is a lot of raw human emotion right now. 

Randy: Yes, and a whole lot of people capturing that. There are a lot of photographers. I think consciously what I am now looking for is the quiet moments you can find in the middle of all that chaos. Those are harder to find. 

RVA Mag: You were outspoken in advocating for healthcare workers on the frontline of COVID, but as a city we moved quite rapidly from COVID to the street protests. Was there a nexus between these two things for you? 

Randy: First of all, there is no way to make the on-video murder of George Floyd any less abominable. That’s obviously not the only time police have killed people, it was just the latest one caught on video. So this is not to diminish that atrocity, but by the time that happened people were primed: They had been under lockdown, they don’t know what’s going on, there is so much disinformation in the media — on both sides — which is horrific. There is the economic fallout, everyone is wondering what and the hell is going on. Everyone has been in a really tense place. So when this happened — to use a trite analogy — it was a perfect storm. 

RVA Mag: Let me build on that a bit: You have a global career, touring all over the world, but you always come back to Richmond. What’s it like to come back here and see this on your city streets? 

Randy: I’m careful in how I answer questions like this. Because I have seen this before. We were in Thailand during the Redshirt Revolt. When we landed, there were 100,000 people camped out in downtown Bangkok. Right before we go on stage, there is an announcement made that the government just declared martial law and that anyone not home within an hour will be going to prison. We’d not even played our set yet. They announced that and the Thai people [at the show] were like, “Fuck you, we’re staying.”  

RVA Mag: Wait, so you played a show in Bangkok while the city was under martial law? 

Randy: Absolutely, 100 percent. 

RVA Mag: Ok, this is rock n’ roll lore now. Did the authorities try and stop you from performing? 

Randy: No, they were busy massing downtown. There were 100,000 people in downtown Bangkok — protesters — all wearing red. I still have a red protest bandana. We got off stage and I went down there. Everyone was super cool with us, but everyone was strapping on homemade armor and then there was this massive, massive riot. I wound up back at the hotel, but later that night the protesters took over a police station and stole hundreds of automatic weapons. 37 people died that night, including three or four journalists. The next day, right after we took off, they closed the airport. And that’s just one story. I’ve seen stuff like this on an even larger scale. 

So for me, seeing it here is very, very odd. Seeing tear gas being popped off on Monument Ave is fucking crazy. Things here have remained more tumultuous for longer because of where we’re sitting [across from the removed statue of JEB Stuart]. We’ve reached this boiling point, but it’s always kind of been here in Richmond. We’re a majority black city, people need to understand that. I can’t speak for a single black person, but most of them don’t appreciate these monuments. 

RVA Mag: The public memory of these men, memorialized in these statues, is ending with this generation. As a thought exercise, everything they stood for and how they were propagandized throughout Virginia and US history ends here and now. Is that special to you as someone from Richmond? 

Randy: It is intense to see. There was a lot of talk about how they were going to be contextualized. Like, put a little plaque there. But unless you are right up on that plaque, the monument itself does not convey that — it still conveys a position of power. It is harder to contextualize something that is built, positioned, and placed so purposefully to convey this one thing. How are you going to put context with that unless you build something equally as large beside it? And no one was talking about that. 

I think they have been contextualized now. You can look at all these monuments, they have been fucking contextualized. 

RVA Mag: We have seen aspects of popular culture respond to this movement very quickly. In terms of being a national touring act in a period of national transition, what role do you see the metal scene playing in pushing the change we’re seeing?

Randy: Well, it’s interesting. We just released our eighth album, Lamb of God — the tenth one we’ve ever recorded [including two released under the name Burn The Priest]. The whole premise is the unsuitability of our current way of life. A lot of the songs seem prescient. The cracks in the system we’re seeing against systemic racism in our society, none of this surprises me. The pandemic doesn’t surprise me. 

RVA Mag: In an American context or individual life context? 

Randy: In a societal context, it was inevitable. Business as usual in America, and here we are. As a heavy metal singer, I had to source N95 masks for physician friends of mine. And I could do that, and I did do that, delivering them to doctors and nurses. The fact that a fucking heavy metal singer can, and a physician can’t, is ludicrous and is evidence that we’re unprepared. So this is not unpredictable.

But make no mistake, young people are leading this right now. Oftentimes I am the oldest dude out here shooting. I am going to turn 50 next year. You have all these young people becoming more educated, while also facing an uncertain economic future. They have the knowledge of the systemic racism, they are putting things together and seeing these things and thinking it is fucked up. Eventually there is going to be a breaking point. 

RVA Mag: There is so much cultural turbulence right now. Is punk and heavy metal music still the music of rebellion, the way it used to be?

Randy: The real shit is. Fuck yeah it is! But in this particular situation, heavy metal and punk rock, like everything else as it grows bigger gets diluted. I would say hip-hop is more the voice of this. Hip-hop gets diluted and commercialized too, it’s pop music in a lot of ways. But I have heard a lot of good hip-hop coming out of Richmond — through RVA Magazine — with great social commentary [holds up his phone to show a stream of Richmond’s JR Da Rapper].  

RVA Mag: Let’s switch to photography. Some of this movement’s photography over the past six weeks has been phenomenal and tells the real story of what is happening on the street. In your opinion, what’s the role of photographers right now capturing a world in transition?

Randy: First of all, I have to give a shout out @eyeneyevisons — Christopher “Puma” Smith. He’s been shooting on film. I’ve not met him yet, but I really dig his work. But for me, as a photographer, I don’t pretend to be 100 percent subjective — I don’t work for Reuters. I document what’s going on. Just as every person in this society has different feelings about what’s going on, each photographer is going to look at things through a different eye. I think it is the responsibility of photographers who are dedicated to their craft — at least for street photographers and social documentarians — it’s the duty and role to go out and see this thing through their own eyes and make pictures for later. The more perspectives we have visually, as a visual record, the better we’ll be able to understand what has happened.

This is history. My take is to try and capture different viewpoints.

RVA Mag: You have an upcoming photo essay in Revolver. With all the images you’ve taken, how do you pick the ones that will be published? 

Randy: It was actually relatively easy. The theme I am looking for is the quieter moments in the middle of the turmoil. Because I have a lot of pictures of that [turmoil], but so does everyone else. For me, it is harder to find the quieter beautiful moments in all of this [shows a picture of two Black children sitting on top of Lee Monument]. I wonder how the kids sitting there will always remember that as a good day. I was thinking how strange it was to remember good times I had at this monument, which was erected in the service of oppression. Then I looked at these two kids sitting up there and they were having a blast. Now I’m wondering, years from now, when they are pushing my age and remember that day — not only how good of a day that was, but also remember why it was such a good day. 

RVA Mag: You said earlier that Richmond is your refuge. What’d you think in the moment when you were capturing images of the police targeting protesters? 

Randy: I think about the really rapid shift in the geographic realities. For years this has been what they call an idyllic place, and now it is an emotionally charged vortex. After seeing this for so many years, it is like a portal has been opened to another dimension. And now it is covered in messages like “fuck cops.” I never would have thought someone could have written that on this statue. Photographs have changed history. A photograph can be that impactful. If you think about the famous photograph of the burning Buddhist monk [Thích Quang Duc, during the Vietnam War] — that photograph changed everything. 

RVA Mag: You have a new album out. What’s the future of touring musicians given the global pandemic? There is a knock-on effect that is going to be felt for sometime. 

Randy: Live shows will come back. This won’t last for fucking ever. I am going to scream if I hear some idiot on TV say “these are unprecedented times.” These are not unprecedented times. Unprecedented means we’ve never had this before; we’ve had the Spanish Flu, we’ve had economic collapse, we’ve even had massive civil unrest on a much larger scale — somehow everyone survived. It is important to document, remember, learn, and take knowledge from these times into the future. Hopefully we’ll emerge from this shitstorm as better people. 

RVA Mag: You’ve touched and seen such a wide cross-section of America through your touring. When you look out into the audience in 2020, are you inspired that we’re going to course-correct and be better than what we’ve been the past four years? 

Randy: I have hope that we will emerge as better people. Politically, I am as optimistic as you can be living in this ludicrous two-party binary system where it is still two old white dudes. I think we need some young people, some more variety. I think we need a woman president, which unfortunately is not going to happen this time around. Everyone, in so many ways, just seems so beaten down by the past four years. People just want to sit and chill without something abominable crazy and fucked up happening every day. 

RVA Mag: On that relatively optimistic note, let me say thank you for such killer conversation.

Some of Randy’s photography can be found right here.

*All photos by Landon Shroder