Talk to us about the guiding light for the creation of Never Turn Back: Echoes of African American Music.

Personally, I wanted to create something that connects me with the South. I’m from Atlanta, Georgia—more specifically, I’m a DeKalb County girl. I love music (really, I’m always playing something), and I have my master’s in African American Studies. I used what I knew and what I loved to make this exhibition. So, thinking about the mobilization of Black life and music in the South is a stepping point for the creation of this exhibition.

I wanted to explore the idea: What are the foundations of Black music? All these genres came from one place, so how can I tell that story through my specific skill set—understanding Black history and culture? The exhibition very much reflects what I think about when I think of Black music and what I’ve experienced as a Black woman in the South.  

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The exhibition begins in the Dark Waters section. What can you share with us, and how does it set the tone for the journey ahead?

I love this section so much! I thought about the National Civil Rights Museum in Atlanta and the National African American Museum of History and Culture in D.C., and unfortunately, when the story of African American history is told, it always starts with slavery.  

The idea behind Dark Waters is to get people thinking about the enslaved African’s perspective of the unknown and its uncertainty within the Transatlantic Slave Trade. I pose certain questions like: How do decades of a subjugated history lead to the foundation of Black American music? How does oppression shape the way Black people create music? It’s a thought-provoking space that explores the beginning of Black American life. I hope guests will take a step back and reflect on those roots before moving through the rest of the gallery.  

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How does the physical space support your storytelling?

The idea is to make you feel like you’re stepping into a different genre. You’re in the space—you’re experiencing the nightlife of a jazz club; you can sense the sounds of the piano. Or you’re in the deep south of Mississippi; you’re inside a juke joint and feeling the rhythm of a guitar. I really want people to feel like they are in the era when these genres came to life.

There’s also a layer of history combined with the aesthetics of each genre that really amplifies how every section feels like its own gallery. They share certain elements for consistency, but there are unique touches—like listening stations, color palettes, and wall designs—that make each space stand out. It’s all very intentional. The graphic design and exhibition team really made it feel like you’re time traveling through the different genres.

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How did you navigate the tension between celebrating joy and acknowledging pain in the curation?

That’s the double consciousness that W.E.B. Du Bois talks about —the fact that Black people see the world through two different consciousness: how I perceive myself, and how other people perceive me. I needed to find a balance to express that perspective. I feel like Black people are aware that there is joy in our lives because we’re here, and we value our culture. But it’s also about how our culture is perceived—both in those joyful moments and in the scarier parts, like racism and discrimination. I want people to understand the duality of Black life and representation in music.

Black music comes up in the show as the backdrop of Black history, but unfortunately, black people don’t have the privilege of talking about black culture without also acknowledging the historical challenges. That’s the scary part: nothing in the gallery can be separated from racism, discrimination, sexism, or classism. As a black curator, that’s evident in how the story is being told—I couldn’t pull it apart.  

But I will add: the photos I chose highlight how artists shared their music—the expression, the movement, the performance. You really feel the energy in them. That’s where the joy and resilience come in.

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Do you have a favorite photo or artifact?

I knew from the start this was going to be a photography show, but I really wanted to include some instruments too. And then—lo and behold—our team was talking with Jim Irsay, and he mentioned he had instruments from Miles Davis and John Coltrane. I immediately asked, “Can we get them?!” So... our Jazz section features Coltrane’s saxophone and Davis's trumpet. I’m a big John Coltrane fan, so having an actual instrument from an artist I love is really exciting.

As for photos, my favorite has to be Aretha Franklin image from Lee Friedlander in the Soul section. You can see the strength in her voice from that image. Singing like she has nothing left. It’s such a powerful photo.  

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In what ways is this exhibition a living archive rather than a fixed retrospective?

I think a lot about cultural appropriation—as a hip-hop fan—and I understand how the essence of Black music is so often culturally appropriated. People don’t always know the origins of our sounds, language, and movement— and those origins of Black vernacular were created by Black people.  

The intensity and severity of this, within the context of this exhibition, is rooted in the reality that so much of Black performance comes out of marginalization. When you're exiled from certain theaters, radio stations, record labels—when composers won’t write for you—you just do what you do. You build juke joints, you sing in the choir, you travel the Chitlin’ Circuit, you create the Harlem Renaissance. We built these spaces out of exclusion in the music industry—and we weren’t even getting paid for it!  

This drives the awareness that black culture is American culture. We’ve always had the power to drive culture and history forward, even when it's been met with racism and oppression. So, this is also a celebration of that resilience and creativity.

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This is your debut exhibition as lead curator. How are you feeling?

This is a different exhibition of its kind at MOPOP. I value the legacy of being MOPOP’s first Black curator and having Never Turn Back as my premiere exhibition really speaks to the prevalence of how we talk about BIPOC culture at the museum. With such dynamic curatorial leadership, especially one with a full woman curatorial staff, it’s important (and fun!) to see how we’re expanding these conversations through pop culture.  

I think a lot of people have a misunderstanding of what pop culture is. It’s really just popular culture that is familiar to your culture. So being able to tell this inspiring story about Black popular culture is deeply important to me. I think Black folks in Seattle—especially those who may not have seen themselves represented in the ways they wanted—can see themselves at MOPOP.  

Want to see the exhibition for yourself? Never Turn Back: Echoes of African American Music is now open—plan your visit today!