Artist spotlight: David
Gwen features the works and journey of artist, photographer, and entrepreneur, David. David advocates for physical and mental wellbeing to support the health of communities.
Content warning: this article contains mentions of racism and mental illness.
Back in 2019, David Lee turned his camera towards me. I felt self-conscious and suddenly didn’t know how to be natural in my own skin. But his approach to photography centred on connection and introspection, which made the experience more like a cathartic release than a purely aesthetic pursuit. He gave me the opportunity to talk about the things that were on my mind and reminded me how to be myself again. David and I met as community advocates who were still exploring the ways that we fit into supporting the social, environmental, economic, and health needs of our microcosm of community. Most of our conversations were about how we work in relationship to the community and how we take care of ourselves. That night in my flat we had the same conversation but somehow it felt more vulnerable to have a camera there and to have it be documented: at the same time, it was therapeutic to have those moments preserved. David has taken that intimacy of documentation and turned it into his full-time pursuit as a photographer and artist.
Creativity has always had a place in David’s life, but his emergence as a creative was tangled with his identity and wrangling with others’ perceptions of him. He recalls that different learning environments impacted the reception of his art by his teachers. Early on he was not encouraged to pursue art, which raised larger questions on how stereotyped identities, specifically expectations of black people, can hinder and limit growth. “I think sometimes black people are expected to perform in certain ways … looking back I didn’t get the encouragement like my peers did, and I won’t say why, but I noticed that, and it got to me.”
Initially, this kept David from identifying as a creative. It wasn’t until middle school that his poetry was recognised and won a competition. “I remember winning that and the first time feeling like I was a creative. Like my school actually did think it was a big deal. The school was majority black and that was the first time I went to a predominantly black school.” This recognition and ability to self-identify as someone who is creative gave David license to continue exploring his art, which soon led him to photography.
His exploration of photography began as an ode to memories and an outlet for his own depression. Looking through old family photos in what his family called their “library”, David became interested in photos and memory. “These memories are important. I realised how important they were to me. So, I went and bought a bunch of disposable cameras and went around taking pictures of middle school.” Reflecting back on this period of time, David recounts some of his own struggles with depression and finding photography and poetry as a means of dealing with his own internal world.
“I can see that’s when my childhood depression started to manifest the most and so I needed these outlets. Friendships were starting to look weird … my art usually centres around mental health and trying to create these outlets of expression so people can process and see themselves reflected back. I think that’s when it started for me.”
Memories of middle school years are ones he has shared with me a couple times, and it brings together so many aspects of David that I’ve come to know. He has an incredible ability to capture vulnerable, authentic moments. Part of his art is tapping into the undercurrent of a moment and pulling out the right words and images that describe some of those unspoken emotions. Photography is his way of slowing things down in an age of hyper-stimulation. “It’s a chance to press pause and allow people to go back to that moment and think about what they were feeling and see the subtleties of who they are”. Oftentimes, David shares his photos with poems and prose about that moment, the interaction, or what the experience brought him. Whenever I see David’s work, photography and poetry paired together, there is no doubt it’s his voice and vision that come through.
During the summer of 2020, George Floyd was murdered. Black Lives Matter protests spread across the United States and around the world. David was there—documenting through his lens the rawness of the people, the protests, the events, and the emotions.
The pandemic was ongoing in the backdrop, which brought into sharp focus health inequities, particularly in black communities. The broader social conversation around racism, critiques of the carceral system, and health inequities shifted—it was suddenly more critical, urgent, and mainstream. “During those protests I realised this wasn’t my space anymore. I started to see allies showing up and screaming at the top of their lungs, with signs and linking arms on the frontlines. Like ‘Huh, cool it’s been done’ and it felt like the energy shifted. So where do I need to go if this isn’t the space, because the work needs to continue. I chose physical health, community, and mental health. Getting outdoors was the way to do it.” The protests in 2020 felt different to him and having allies show up in those spaces offered David the flexibility to do the work he really wanted to do. This was when he transitioned to being a full-time co-founder and photographer.
Choosing the name of his organisation was an act of radical self-naming and claiming an identity. David reflects: “How is that going to come off to people, is that marketable? But in my community it’s important to say this is who we are and not allow other people to dictate what our expression should be. … So, I started the organisation Negus in Nature (NIN) with my business partner Langston”.
Within NIN, David is in his element—sharing the joys of the back country while documenting a community becoming connected with their mental and physical wellbeing outdoors. He’ll be starting his artist residency at the Kala Institute, which will give him access to an array of mixed media materials. He’s really excited to be sharing some of his new works coming up as he says, “A lot of the protest photos I have not shared yet because it’s like ‘aight this is raw and I don’t know what this is for just yet … and so now everything is coming together and it’s this collective idea of ‘this is where I was in the pandemic and this is where I was before and this is the processing.’” He wouldn’t share much more about his upcoming project, but he’s dreaming up something with paper mâché, dabbling into the world of mixed media.
Stay up to date with David’s projects on Instagram: @d.xoti
You can follow NIN’s adventures on Instagram: @negusinnature
If you want to sign up for an excursion you can visit NIN’s website
Photography feature: glimpses of the Gambia
Through photographs Franca shares her own day-to-day experiences working as a non-local Research Assistant in The Gambia.
For the last two months I was volunteering at The Gambia Medical Research Council (MRC) as a research physician. During this time, I gained some insights into the communities and the ways of living and learnt a little bit more about the health seeking behaviours.
These photos reflect scenes I encountered in the ordinary course of my day working as a non-local medical professional. This experience provided me with a perspective that is not all encompassing of life in The Gambia, but rather a glimpse into my own perceptions.
9.00am: Every day before work, my colleagues would stop for a sandwich with onions fried in palm oil and bean fritters, which costs about 15 Dalasi (roughly 20 pence). A piece of fruit is often more expensive. An apple, which can be found in every fruit stand, costs twice as much as they are imported—like much of the food consumed in The Gambia. My colleagues told me that many Gambians’ diet is low in fresh fruits and vegetables, not only due to lifestyle habits, but also because of costs. One survey showed that only 22% of the Gambian population eat 5 portions of fruit and vegetables daily.
10.00am: We bounce up and down in the car as we drive along the bumpy roads of a peri-urban zone. Most of the roads and properties are unpaved. During the rainy season, the unpaved roads become waterlogged. Goats, donkeys, and dogs romp around, and children play in the puddles.
11.00am: As part of my duties as a research physician on an observational trial, I visited households in urban and rural areas. I saw a high prevalence of skin diseases—particularly in children—including bacterial, fungal, or parasitic infections. Affected individuals or their parents had often not sought or found adequate medical attention yet, in some cases for long-lasting manifestations or deep abscesses. The prevalence of children in this area with skin infections after the rainy season can increase to 16%, and those with pyoderma to 23%.
12.00pm: We would often smell and see smoke in the courtyards we visited, as lunch was prepared. Commonly, tea or food is cooked on smoking coals in the courtyard or in a hut of the compound. According to the latest Demographic and Health Survey, 80% of households in The Gambia use charcoal or wood for cooking.
5.00pm: In the evenings, I would sometimes go for a stroll in the market. On one occasion, I met a shopkeeper who told me that he considers the health system in the urban areas to work well, and only a small flat fee is charged for visiting health centres and hospitals. However, the field team I worked with said that there is varying quality in healthcare services and often shortages in medicines. In many cases, people have to pay for medicines out of their own pockets in pharmacies, which can be a relatively big expenditure, especially when it comes to chronic diseases. It is estimated that 20% of people spend more than 10% of their household consumption or income on out-of-pocket healthcare expenditure.
6.00pm: On the beach front, many women sold fruit at stalls like these. Two years ago, these would have been bustling during the high tourist season, but COVID-19 has halted tourism in the country. The tourism industry is a major contributor to Gross Domestic Product in The Gambia and many are reliant on its revenue for their livelihoods. I spoke to a 20-year-old fruit seller who told me that her income from these stands assisted with her family’s expenses.
7.00pm: In the evenings and on Sundays, the beach becomes a hub for exercise, including football, rugby, jogging, or gymnastics. The beaches are open to all social groups, but I observed very few women exercising. Lack of physical activity may be one of the factors contributing to the fact that women are twice as likely as men to be affected by obesity in The Gambia.