Black is King, Beyoncé is not

At what point does cultural exploration become cultural exploitation?

This conversation will not go over well with many, dare I say most, but I have made my peace with that. In an attempt to dodge the vitriolic, and sometimes violent, feedback that often comes with having an adverse opinion on the work of this artist, I believe it’s in my best interest to preface this piece with a few statements.

◙ The first being that this is not a critique of Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter as a person, nor as a Black woman, nor as a musician.

◙ The second being that this is not an attempt to discredit the obvious amount of work and the brilliant minds that have contributed to the cultivation of her two most recent visual creations; Lemonade and Black Is King.

◙ The third and final being that this article may contain information that challenges your previously held convictions, I only ask that you adopt an open and non-defensive stance as you navigate the many nuances.

My sweet paternal grandmother, whose photo now adorns the devotional altar in my bedroom, was a legendary Uli woman. Uli, or Eduli in its unabbreviated form, is a sacred, linear-oriented body-inscribing aesthetic performed and passed by women in pre-contemporary Igbo society. The Igbo people, from whom I derive on my father’s side, are an…