The Works of Adrian Brandon
The works of Adrian Brandon, featuring his Stolen series and Brooklyn Windows series
Adrian Brandon is a wonderfully talented, Brooklyn-based contemporary artist whose works centre around the experiences of the Black community. His works embrace themes of joy, love, and collective community whilst also tackling themes of injustice, grief, and racism. I first came across Brandon’s works on Instagram when I saw his portrait of George Floyd. Through the widespread dissemination of George Floyd’s image in all kinds of media coverage, campaigns, and protests, not only has his story gained international recognition, but his face, in particular, has become symbolic within the Black Lives Matter movement. Brandon’s portrait of George Floyd is wholeheartedly moving: the centre of his face is filled with colour and with life, however the rest of his portrait appears uncompleted or rather cut short.
Adrian Brandon, George Floyd, Stolen series, 2020
The portrait is part of the Stolen series which Brandon started in 2019 and decided to revisit shortly following the death of George Floyd. The series is dedicated to drawing Black individuals who had their lives stolen from them by unlawful police brutality. Brandon allots one minute of colouring for every one year of life each individual lived. Through this process, a full portrait would equal a full life, however, all the portraits included in the series are left scarcely blank. The results of this artistic decision are not only harrowing, but they are also incredibly poignant. They give the viewer a glimpse of a life that once was, yet they also depict just how much each individual and their families lost, or rather, how much was stolen from them. Brandon’s choice of the title Stolen is incredibly important to their meaning as it refers to the harsh reality behind these portraits, since often when we talk about death, we use phrases such as “passed away” or we speak of people “losing their lives.” However, the lives of these individuals were not lost, they were unlawfully and painfully stolen; this distinction is essential.
George Floyd is sadly just one of the many Black individuals who are featured in Brandon’s series. Breonna Taylor is another example of an innocent person who was wrongfully killed at the hands of the police. Her name has also become extremely popularised over social media, as those responsible for her death have still not been charged for their actions. However, Brandon’s portrait depicts more than a name or an Instagram post; it depicts Breonna Taylor as an individual, a woman who was an emergency medical technician selflessly serving as an essential worker during the pandemic. Only in the centre of her face including her nose and right eye does the viewer see a flicker of her life and her personality, as the soft tones of brown, pink, red and green create a sense of warmth and kindness within her face. The rest of her face and hair nevertheless remain empty, and this emptiness speaks to the life she was supposed to have lived but instead presents us with the reality of a blank unfillable void. Brandon writes about this constant emptiness within the series, stating:
“I want the viewer to see how much empty space is left in these lives, stories that will never be told, space that can never be filled. This emptiness represents holes in their families and our community, who will be forever stuck with the question, who were they becoming?” ~Adrian Brandon
Adrian Brandon, Breonna Taylor, Stolen series, 2020
The overwhelming emptiness of the portraits further indicates how young so many of the individuals were when their lives were taken. Breonna Taylor was only 26 when she was killed, and therefore, 26 minutes of colour could only fill her nose and eye. Similarly, Darius Tarver’s portrait also only captures his nose and eye in colour because he was just 23 years old when his life was stolen. Along with this small portion of colour rendered in a few of his facial features, the portrait also depicts the faint outline of his large and broad smile. Despite its lack of colour, it nevertheless presents an image of someone who appears kind and welcoming. His future was cut short by four police officers who acted irrationally and extremely irresponsibly upon finding Darius in a troubled mental state after he had recently suffered a traumatic brain injury. Darius was in fact studying criminal justice at university, and he hoped to later become a police officer himself. After his death, his father stated: “The very thing he wanted to make better is the very thing that killed him” (via The Dallas Observer).
Adrian Brandon, Darius Tarver, Stolen series, 2020
Brandon’s portrait of Aiyana Stanley-Jones stands out among the series as it is arguably the least completed portrait. For this reason, it is perhaps one of the most heartbreaking drawings, as Aiyana was only 7 years old when her life was stolen. It goes without saying that no child should ever be mercilessly killed by the police, yet Aiyana’s story and portrait exist. Brandon sketches in grey some of her braids which are beautifully embellished with flowers, but still only her small eye is filled in with colour, hinting at her unbearably short life, whilst the blank space yet again alludes to her unknown future.
It is also important to recognise, however, (although it may seem like an obvious statement), an older age does not and should not make these deaths any more tolerable. Those who live to an older age in Brandon’s series still had their lives immeasurably cut short, and their families continue to suffer.
Adrian Brandon, Aiyana Stanley-Jones, Stolen series, 2020
Brandon often writes of the pain he feels when creating their portraits and of the fact that the series appears to be never ending as new names are constantly being added to his list of portraits. The very fact that these portraits and series exist at all is deeply troubling, despite how beautiful and powerful they are. When personally reflecting on the series, Brandon states:
“As a person of colour, I know that my future can be stolen from me if I’m driving with a broken taillight, or playing my music too loud, or reaching for my phone at the wrong time. So for each of these portraits I played with the harsh relationship between time and death.” ~Adrian Branden
In some of his Instagram posts, Brandon also writes to remind viewers that if the police officers responsible for the deaths of each individual were to have a portrait in this series, theirs would be full as most go on to live full lives without consequences. Furthermore, Brandon explains the unlawful killings which have led to this series are being allowed to happen by a much larger system at work; it is not just the police stealing these lives, it’s governments, it’s media, it’s school systems, and it’s the very fabric of today’s society into which systemic racism and is weaved into every corner.
The portraits of the Stolen series strike a chord with those who see them, and they have a power to move the viewer and stir up emotions in a way that makes them vulnerable. His drawing process is both creative and compelling as it honours the individuals whose lives were stolen and their families whilst also expressing a wider issue beyond the individual.
The Stolen series, however, is just one of many creations and accomplishments of Adrian Brandon. Many of his works express themes of Black joy, community, and culture, and they deserve representation just as much as those which tackle injustice. For example, Brandon’s series Brooklyn Windows, 2020 features a number of bright block coloured illustrations looking into people’s homes. Brandon explained that his inspiration for the series came from his experiences living in Brooklyn where most people live in small apartments with very little outdoor space, and therefore, many have been extremely isolated during the current pandemic. Brandon quite literally depicts a window into the subjects' lives taking inspiration from the little things that surround them which give them character, such as curtains, plants, or wallpaper. At the heart of this series is the notion of community, a topic which has become universally significant amidst the global pandemic. Brandon writes: “Looking out my window brings me comfort. Seeing my neighbours’ lights on reminds me that we are all in this together.” ~Adrian Brandon
He goes on to explain that in the illustrations we see a small portion into the subjects’ lives, an hour of their day perhaps or a personal possession. However, that is all we see, and we do not know much more or see beyond the surface of these subjects. It is this aspect that Brandon marks as important because whilst we have all experienced the difficulties of the pandemic together, everyone has ultimately experienced the crisis in different ways. We should be mindful of the fact there is always more beyond the surface with those around us including friends, neighbours, and even family members.
The colours of each illustration reflect a different mood and atmosphere onto each window. The electric blue captures the relaxed yet lonely feelings of the figure sitting on his window who appears to be waiting for a friend to pick up the phone. The illustration titled on Brandon’s Instagram as “I got you” pt.2 features a deep orange tone which brings a sense of warmth into the window, as if the sun has just begun to set at the end of another day. As the title suggests, the image portrays notions of trust and caring for one another, as one figure is depicted braiding the others hair- a culturally significant act which is dually meaningful during lockdown, in which all hair salons have been shut. One of my favourites from this series features a pink-toned window with a girl lying against it. Her legs are decorated with tattoos and propped up against the wall, whilst she lays casually on a pillow wearing sunglasses. She appears nonchalant as she blows a big pink bubble of gum, forming a vision relaxation and reflection with perhaps a hint of boredom.
Each window demonstrates to the viewer a piece of the subject’s life or personality, a part of their culture, and a part of lockdown which many can relate to. There is an illustration for almost everyone to connect with during the pandemic, whether it’s of people cooking, talking on the phone, spending close time with family, or just staring out the window. Brandon’s Brooklyn Windows series encapsulates the experiences of both individual and the collective. The works depict moments of joy and connection which have been found through this crisis whilst also the isolation and independent difficulties each person faces.
Alexandra McDermott Brown is a fourth year student at the University of Edinburgh studying History of Art. She is the Arts Editor and In-House Illustrator for Ensemble Magazine.