on ‘The Death of Me’

HypoFutures Guideline #1:
We begin with death. We begin with grief. We remember with gratitude.

We begin with death. In order to become new, a part of oneself must die. We begin with grief. To know grief, is to know love. We remember with gratitude. No one is left behind or forgotten.

〰️

‘Holding Space’ by Eliana Yoneda and Resham Mantri

‘The Death of Me’ is a multi-media exploration of grief and loss, and a space to reflect upon our communal relationships with death. Loss, and the emotional journey that follows, can transform human memory and body. This collision of art, community and death work opens up the space to meditate on the transformative power of grief.

This show ran from October 22-November 20, featuring work by 4 POC artists and death doulas—Resham Mantri, Eliana Yoneda, Trishia Frulla, and Ophelia Arc. Each week, an artist held a community activation to deepen our relationships with life, death and each other, ending with an intimate artist talk in the living room of HypoFutures’ home hosted by our resident event producer/writer/multi-hyphenate girly, Everdeen Mason, featuring her very cute and comfy poufs, bibingka (an ooey gooey pilipinx coconutty filipinx rice cake) provided by @bibingkamama, and mimosas.

On the beginnings:

In 2019 I dreamed up a show that included multiple art installations and intimate activations through out all the rooms in a home, created by artists for our community. Not a new concept, but still an exciting one. At the time I thought it might be with a collective of folks I was working with called Walang Hiya NYC. That collective dissolved early 2020 and instead, what I learned with that collective became the roots of HypoFutures and ‘The Death of Me.’ And when I moved into my apartment—now HypoFutures’ studio—in 2021, I realized this would be the space. With who, though? I didn’t know yet—and I wasn’t in a rush to find out—so I forgot about it and focused my energy on making my house a home.

At the beginning of this year (2022), I began taking a Death Doula course with Going with Grace, a really really lovely program and community of Death Workers. It was here that I met Resham Mantri, a fellow death doula, when another student of Going with Grace suggested a meet up while she was visiting Brooklyn, NY.

I told her about the crochet anitos I was creating for friend to honor the life of their partner, and she told me about a communal grief altar she had dreamed up with her collaborator, Eliana Yoneda (also a death doula from Going with Grace), with marigold garlands hanging from the ceiling. What I loved most was the call to community. This desire to create something meant to live, breath, change…I got really excited and asked if she’d be down to create the piece here, in my home, at the very dining table we were sitting, eating Thai food at. I didn’t even mention all my thoughts on the intersections of ancestral death practices in the home, the power of creating this piece in community first vs gallery, the awe of taking a chance on an art installation when their primary medium is writing… anyway, she said, “yes.” I responded with, “no, but actually.” and that essentially started the engine.

I then reached out to another artist to ask if she would be open to a show in my home. I had met Ophelia Arc through a hard nudge from a curator friend, Sadaf Padder, who knew the two of us would get along. We met at a coffee shop, talked about art, school, boys *gag*, followed each other on instagram and then we went our separate ways. When I tell you her work is incredible, I mean it. The rotten crochet and multimedia pieces she creates grab your attention and scream at you if you ignore them. They’re unapologetically vulnerable, executed flawlessly, and I believe they fully intend to make you squirm a little.

‘Eat Me, Rebirth Me’ by Ophelia Arc

Lastly there’s me. I like to think my work is a bit of those Resham and Eliana’s call to community, and a bit of Ophelia’s can’t look away, but am I allowed to see this? I wanted to create a new crochet piece, larger than any I’d ever made, and I wanted to show it on my own terms. I knew it would be both a continuation of my recent work, and also a turning point to something new. It needed to be shown in my home first.

‘Projections’ by Trishia Frulla

So I had an idea of the artists, but how would I be able to put together a whole ass event, while also making art, and prioritizing RESZZZT? I really didn’t know. This is the part where I need to talk a bit about another dreamy dream space, HypoFutures. When I first dreamed up HypoFutures I imagined it would be a place where folks could test out hypothetical futures, “what does an artist residency look like without institutions? or “I am an accountant, but I’d love to try and be a designer?” I began thinking about who I knew that might be able to help me put this show on, and actually enjoy it. This is when I thought of Everdeen Mason. I also recently met Everdeen—we met late 2021 on the apps, quickly trauma bonded and became friends (because we were both covid sick and spiraling). Everdeen creates vibes, and enjoys it. Since I met her until the beginning of planning this show, I’d seen her throw multiple dinner parties “just because,” while still finding time to check in and hang with all her friends/pets, visit family, direct/navigate/launch a bunch of new initiatives in her corporate life, and publish stories. Oh yes, she also writes sci-fi. I knew her joy and ability to create worlds out of almost anything would lend itself to this show …if she wanted to.

I feel like the creation of this show tested all the lessons I’d learned up until then. I pulled in knowledge I learned while working on the floor in retail, as a freelance designer, and as a corporate manager. I worked hard to incorporate my rest practice by sharing responsibilities, and to trust in myself and the people I asked to work with me on this, as well as the fact that although Everdeen and I had never created something together before, we had everything we needed to be successful.

On the show:

I don’t know how many times I can say I’m grateful. Hundreds of people come through the doors of my home through out the month this show ran. We hosted an in person Death Cafe, came together around 2 bonfires in my backyard, and sat with our grief even when the house was quite literally crying (no, really. the basement flooded in the rain a few times and the bedroom ceiling had a slow leak at the end). Each piece had its own conversation, while also communicating so beautifully with one another. I particularly enjoyed observing the ways folks experienced the show. Some started in the basement with Ophelia’s pieces, some in the bedroom with mine, and others in annonymous community with Resham and Eliana.

Honestly, even if just 2 people showed up I would have called it a success. It was an exercise in trust of self and others. And it was important that the first public event we created in HypoFutures community was on death, because that’s where we begin—just as we do with life.

I have more to say, but I think I’ll stop here for now.

Agyamanak (Thank You)