The Flowers That Connect Us
I walked into the studio . . . and actually Fela Kuti was playing, and I was like oh, we’re going to be friends. There’s already a musical connection here. And I went in and we spent three hours together talking about her work, her process, and her story. And for me as a curator, I am always thinking about what’s the story, where are the layers, and where are all the inroads we can find? Because as a university gallery, we’re gonna teach across the entire campus.
— Megan C. Austin, Curator
Layo Bright’s captivating sculptural practice explores migration, identity, and resilience through a striking combination of glass, textiles, and bronze, weaving in community stories and historical references to honor African diasporic traditions and matrilineal power. Invasive Blooms, her current solo exhibition curated by Megan C. Austin at Montclair University Galleries, is especially significant as it features portraits of Montclair community members who shared their personal migration stories, expanding Bright’s ongoing exploration of heritage and cultural narratives.
Lydia Nobles: Can you tell us about the premise of Invasive Blooms?
Layo Bright: My solo show, Invasive Blooms, is a special exhibition that brings together new and existing works across my art practice. I’m grateful to have worked with the incredible team at Montclair University Galleries. Megan (the curator and Director of Exhibitions) was on board with me making new works for this exhibition and encouraged my idea for a special body of work that highlights narratives of women within the Montclair University community. At the opening, it was particularly special to see many of the participants experience the works about them with their families for the first time. I had a visitor come up to me at the opening, expressing how powerful it was to get a compelling sense of each participant’s story and background. She reiterated how important it is to share these stories and foster dialogue about migration, resilience, and women’s legacies—especially considering the times we are in.
LN: While you typically cast the faces of close family and friends, this time you collaborated with Montclair to involve the university’s faculty, staff, and community members. Could you share how you translated their personal narratives into the colors, lines, and shapes? What guided your conceptual decisions in bringing these stories to life through your work?
LB: We created an open call for the community-based bloom portraits, which included questions intended to get the participants to share their backgrounds and personal narratives. Having not met the participants prior to the sessions I had with them, their responses were a guide that I considered when making each portrait.
For instance, Mabel Adeleye, one of the participants shared about her Nigerian background and how she carries a strength within her (instilled by her ancestors). I found that immensely powerful, the idea of what gets passed down generationally and her Yoruba cultural heritage being of particular importance to her. When it came to making her work, I decided to use green —green being a predominant color on the Nigerian flag—and incorporated striations to make facial lines reminiscent of the Yoruba Ife heads and scarification design known to be associated with them. In general, I used my time with the participants during the consultation and casting sessions to get to understand more about them and to get a sense of their general aura. I recall my session with Anabelle Rosario, who came with very bright and confident energy. In addition to highlighting her Dominican background, I wanted to capture some of her tangible energy within the sculpture of her portrait and picked a range of colors like yellow, blue, red, and green to compliment her personality and story.
I was excited because it was something new and different, and I wanted to represent my Colombian heritage and family.
— Valentina Marin (Colombia)
LN: You selected specific readings to accompany your work in the exhibition. Could you share one of those readings and explain why it holds significance for you and your practice?
LB: One of the books I particularly enjoy is Treasures of Ancient Nigeria by Ekpo Eyo and Frank Willett. I use iconography from ancient Nigeria (such as scarification incisions) in my works. This gesture is a signifier of community, connections, and family, reimagining these in contemporary contexts through portraits of people in my immediate community.
LN: You integrate “Ghana Must-Go” bags, historically associated with the forced displacement of West African migrants in the 1980s, into your glass paintings. The bag’s geometric woven print illuminates circles, which reminds me of a galaxy blanketing an ocean and powerfully captures the essence of migration and movement. How did you originally come to this signature framework and style in your work, and how has it evolved over the years?
LB: The first time I incorporated the Ghana must go bags was about 10 years ago, in grad school at Parsons. At the time, I was preparing for my thesis exhibition and wanted to bring attention to African migrant detention camps in Libya and the plight of the migrants facing inhumane treatment there. While researching the works I was making for my thesis exhibition, I came to realize that this bag/material is associated with migration in different parts of the world. That piqued my curiosity and a subsequent deep dive into the material, its history, and contemporary ways of addressing themes related to migration. Over the years, I have come to consider more closely what the material signifies in global contexts, and I merge it with glass as a metaphor to address the “glass ceiling” effect in migration.
LN: Your newly commissioned piece by Montclair, 9:29. May 25, 2020. George Floyd Murder, is a visceral monument to time, grief, and injustice. How did you come to depict George Floyd’s murder through a symbol of time, the hourglass? And how do you see this shaping the direction of your practice moving forward?
LB: My Hourglass series is a new body of work chronicling time from the lens of Black experiences, culture, and everyday happenings. This is a body of work that has been in my heart and mind for a long time, and I am fortunate to have been able to realize the first work in this series thanks to the generous support of Montclair University Galleries. George Floyd’s murder was a defining moment, with global protests and riots against police brutality, and this particular work is a reminder of this harrowing incident. This work explores time’s fleeting nature and precarity, yet its significance in shaping the world as we know it.
LN: Your exploration of faces began with your Gele sculptures, which reinterpret West African headwraps to celebrate matrilineal lineage and power, drawing from your Nigerian heritage. Looking back on the progression of your practice, how did these sculptures influence your glass works? The flowers in your Bloom series seem to extend the symbolism of the headdress within African and Black diasporic traditions. Would you say this is how you view them? What inspired your use of flowers?
LB: My gele sculptures were my first busts, all portraying women and centering their stories. This spilled over into my glass portraits when I eventually began working with glass. So it’s more so the ideas that carried over, albeit through a different medium than the mixed media/assemblage sculptures I was making with the gele works.
However, though the flowers are in some sense a form of adornment, they are not an extension of the symbolism of the gele headdress. I began making the flowers as a way of processing my grandmother’s passing by connecting with her love of flowers and gardening. I learned how to make glass flowers as a way to process my feelings about her passing, and thinking of all the knowledge and love she passed down to me. That got me thinking about the language of flowers in different cultures, their symbolism, and their ability for storytelling.
We [Layo and Gina] connected over our grandmothers, her grandmother passed, and mine had just passed, and we were both very influenced by our grandmothers . . . She must be intuiting our stories . . . then that comes out in her work. It’s really quite incredible.
— Gina Miele (Italy/Italian diaspora)
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.