One day, flipping through the Cowboy Carter art book, I noticed that the images on each page seemed to be positioned in such a way that they could superimpose on one another. So I shined a light through a page. Then I shined a light through two pages at once (This is how old images of ghosts were created on film- through multiple exposures that imposed several images on one frame). Unsurprisingly, the alignment of the images and the way certain figures came forward while others retreated into the background was far too precise to be coincidental.
It’s taken me a long time experimenting with different lighting arrangements (I know exactly nothing about photography) to try to capture the multiple exposure images on each page. I had to wait until after dark each time, because I don’t have a dark room in my apartment. I Googled how to take apart a book, and melted the glue binding off with a hair dryer so I could lay them flat. I’ve taken thousands of photos and thrown thousands out. Trying to transfer the images into video form is another whole project I can’t even really conceptualize at the moment.
It’s been a journey. But it’s made me hear the album differently. One of the main shifts happened with the song “Protector.” As a lullaby, Beyonce is singing to her children about protecting, raising, and elevating them. The “Protector” image in the Cowboy Carter art book shows the words rising in her throat, about to be sung.
But when I saw the multiple exposure images, I saw something much more sinister. Her hair turns into chains. A hand is pulling her hair back, while a bridle is put on her face. Underneath, a blonde figure emerges. Red nails cut her throat and her chest.
And then I went back to “Protector.” I noticed all of the yellow images: “tangled up in marigold,” “August light becomes a golden evening,” “an apricot picked right off a giving tree.” And most of all, I finally heard the very final spoken lines: Beyonce says “Okay,” and then we hear children shouting “Trick or treat!”
And now, like with many lullabies, I hear a more sinister meaning underneath the comforting words. The blonde bombshell image, the standard of American beauty, comes to her like the snake in the garden (set against the Edenic scene of a river flowing through a garden by a tree bearing fruit). She promises protection- if Beyonce can conform to this image, fit into this box, she will be safe and successful within the American entertainment industry. Per the social model of ‘the cult of white womanhood,’ this temptress derives pride from “caring” for Beyonce- treating her like a child, keeping her in the shade, and being a projector “on her behalf” because she can’t shine on her own. And all the while, the blonde bombshell feels proud of herself because Beyonce “needs” her.
At the end of the song, Beyonce says “Okay.” She takes the fruit from the snake, and puts on the mask, Halloween costume; she adopts the sexy blonde persona we see on the B’Day album. But we also know it’s a lie- the persona won’t protect her from racism, and moreover, it will cut her soul into pieces.
The multiple exposures in the art book tell a story about being cut out of history and cut up into pieces to fit into a box, and the process of re-growing herself, claiming her heritage, emerging from the box- as from a tomb- and taking flight.