I originally wandered into the Hannah Traore Gallery as it was hosting my favorite photographer, Quil Lemons', exhibition that was dubbed "Quiladelphia." I bet you didn't know Quil is the youngest person to photograph the cover of Vanity Fair... your favorite photographer could NEVER.
Obviously Quiladelphia blew me away with the raw expression of vulnerability that only Lemons can curate from behind a camera... the way one individual can say so much with 0 spoken or written words will never cease to amaze me.
But what I didn't expect to move me was the space itself. Do you ever just walk into a space and feel a deep reverance? A sort of energy shift that just sends a lightning bolt of inspiration through you? The Japanese have nailed this feeling, but I rarely feel it here in the US.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist, Flea, describes his job as providing the perfect canvas for John Frusciante (the guitarist) to go absolutely nuts on his solos and kick a hole in the sky. The guitarist gets more love, but is nothing without a good bassist. This is exactly how I see the Gallery/Artist relationship. A good gallery is critical to the success of an artist.
Hannah Traore is laying the perfect canvas in here.
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