In ‘NAKED’ Photo Collection, Black Queer Vulnerability Is On Full Dis
On November 12, 2017, at 6:49 pm, I received a text that read: “Antron has transitioned.”
The official cause of death was cancer, but HIV was the cause. I’ve never written that publicly before, although it’s true. Antron-Reshaud Olukayode was a poet, artist, and community activist, but more importantly, he was my friend.
2017 was an important year for me as a creative. In retrospect, it’s hard to wrap my head around just how much work I was able to curate. I produced podcasts and multiple live events, shot countless photoshoots, produced a music video, co-curated an art display at the National Center for Civil and Human Rights, and even won an award.
In April of that year, Antron asked me to collaborate with him in a way only he could formally. “I need you as my Jean-Paul Goude to my Grace Jones tease,” he told me in a Facebook message. Our goal was to create a series of works, including a visual, musical experience called “Magic.”
Antron entered the hospital in September 2017. I learned about it through a group text. I visited the hospital and gifted him one of my “Black, Gay, Woke & Bothered” t-shirts. I wrapped it in a beautiful cloth fabric, something I knew he’d like. He was in the hospital when he graduated, and he wore the shirt for the ceremony, which he joined virtually. I was committed to finding ways to be there for my friend however I could. It became a whirlwind of hospital visits for more than a month before his passing.
I was still creating, still trying to hold it together.
Two days before his death, he was transported from Atlanta back to his hometown in Gainesville, FL. I naively thought I would physically see him again.
Getting Naked
I was at home in my photography studio when I got the text that he had transitioned. I didn’t know what to do with my emotions. Antron represented so much freedom and life for me, and I suddenly wanted to create with abandon.
Antron was not afraid to show his body. I’d always admired the image of him on the cover of his book Bohemian Rebel Naked and Exposed: Vol.1. His beauty spills onto the page like the sun beaming through the window he’s photographed in front of on his book cover. I asked myself if I’d ever been that free.
I was trying to reckon with my body issues, so I had been exploring conversations around body image for at least two years by this point, and I’d often center myself. By 8:46 pm, I had set up lights and one of my chairs. I took a test photo to see if my lighting would work. I then took off all my clothes, set the timer on my camera, and took this photo at 8:48 pm.
“NAKED” had been officially born.
There was something about looking at the picture of myself in the nude as I began to process my grief. My fat, Black body looked beautiful in my eyes. But feeling beautiful was a feeling I’d never truly felt before. I wondered if others had ever thought it, too.
I was inspired to use repetition as a way to tell a story about Black queer men, our feelings about our bodies, and vulnerability. I invited 25 other men to recreate the photo I had taken.
The artistic process was an easy one. I used the same lighting set-up for each participant, but I wasn’t a stickler for exactness. I wanted it to be honest. I was more concerned about the process than the result when taking the photos. I wanted every person who sat in the chair to feel comfortable and protected.
My initial white series, my brown series, and the final Black series comprise the complete collection.
Below are some images and conversations from four men who participated in the project. You will see the replication of the signature NAKED pose, an image of a body part most loved by the men, and most importantly, their faces.
Images from NAKED by Johnnie Ray Kornegay III (2017-2018)
Daniel
Les
EUPHONIOUS K.Z.G.
Jason
Revisiting this project in this way has helped me remember the importance of art in growing, healing, and grieving. Knowing that the loss of my friend inspired one photo, and that photo inspired a broader series of conversations, is humbling, and a tribute to Antron’s legacy. Looking back at the pictures and listening to the conversations reminds me of dreams deferred, but also all of the ones that manifested.
“These dreams are mine for keeping.
You cannot steal them, nor can you stop me from
Climbing that mountain top.
These dreams are mine for the keeping.
One day they will resurrect and become king.
These dreams are mine and mine alone
These dreams are my own.”
- From “These Dreams” by Antron-Reshaud Olukayode
“NAKED” was meant to be an honest conversation. Beautiful in its simplicity and a dream manifested for the community. I am grateful for the men who trusted me. One day I hope the entire collection can be seen and heard to inspire meaningful conversations. For now, I honor what creating “NAKED” taught me— that I am beautiful just because I am.
I miss you, Antron.
Johnnie Ray Kornegay III (aka Jay Ray) serves as Deputy Director of Strategy and Impact for The Counter Narrative Project (CNP), an organization committed to countering narratives and speaking truth to power. In addition, he is co-host and producer of the podcast Queue Points, a visual podcast where he and his co-host, DJ Sir Daniel, inform and celebrate Black Music creatives through meaningful dialogue.
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