Lest We Forget explores the grief, shock, tension and momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States after the murder of George Floyd in 2020. The collection of emotive compositions is accentuated by field recordings, news broadcasts and public video clippings. It traces the summer from the spread of the original video documentation of the murder, through protest actions around “#BlackoutTuesday” and Juneteenth, to the shift in collective attention towards the widespread wildfires across the West Coast. Lest We Forget stands as a visceral document of the moment, intended to serve as a reminder of the intensity of the collective experience, and a motivator to continue working for change.

‘Catalyst’, edited down from its original length of eight minutes and forty-six seconds, abstracts the experience of viewing the original video of Floyd’s murder. Lal’s heartbeat is recorded while watching the video, its rhythm reflected throughout the rest of the collection as helicopter blades, stomping riot guards, and rolling thunder. ‘Elegy’ processes grief felt for George, Breonna, Ma’khia, Duante, Dijon, Rayshard, Ahmaud, Elijah, Philando, Alton, Sandra, Freddie, Tamir, Akai, Eric, Trayvon, Oscar, and so many more victims of state-sanctioned murder. Distorted organs and mournful reeds are punctuated by recordings of the Oakland Police Department’s frequent late-night helicopter patrols in May and June of 2020.

After intense days of collective action and information-sharing, on June 2nd, social media feeds, corporate press releases and media outlets began to be filled with black squares, silence, and reduced programming. ‘#BlackoutTuesday’ expresses the anger of those committed to action against this type of self-centered, performative allyship.

‘Constitution’ positions the lauded First Amendment in the context of the videotaped actions of police officers at protests against police brutality, where protesters were often met with police brutality. Although many have become sadly or necessarily desensitized to the violence portrayed in these videos, removing the visual content refreshes the perception of violence, even with clips that are uniquely recognizable. The piece also calls into question the personal constitution of those committing the violent acts, as the disparity between the behavior of protesters and police is perhaps even more striking without visual context.

‘Juneteenth’ collects field recordings from an East Bay Bike Party solidarity ride, the International Longshore and Warehouse Union’s West Coast port shutdown and protest actions, and Juneteenth celebrations around Oakland. Culminating in a call-and-response chant led by the Arab Resource and Organizing Center, the piece attempts to capture the intermingled spirits of protest and Black Joy felt throughout historic Oakland on Juneteenth in 2020.

‘Momentum’ plays on Gil Scott-Heron’s famous sentiment that “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” combining snippets of television news broadcasts with a motorik beat to convey the driving energy felt in the moment. At a closer listen, however, no details about the motivation for the protests, widespread police brutality at the protests, “pictures of the pigs shooting down brothers on the instant replay,” or antagonizing actions by far-right terrorist groups are mentioned. Instead, the narrative too easily lulls the viewer into a sense of complacency about the details. Meanwhile, “the revolution will be live,” and the importance of staying informed, in person and online, grows ever more pertinent.

On August 16th, 2020, over 12,000 lightning strikes ignited more than 650 wildfires across the West Coast, beginning a historic season of wildfires and smoke pollution in the midst of the global pandemic. As the smoke streamed as far East and North as New York City and even Eastern Canada, national and global attention began to shift away from the Movement for Black Lives, and towards the fires and climate change more broadly. Now, a year later, how do we mark progress? How have we sustained our work? The titular, closing movement ‘Lest We Forget,’ punctuated by the thunder from August, asks us to remember the events, emotions, and experiences that brought us together, and reminds us to keep fighting for change.

The artwork, by longtime collaborator Austin Redwood, mirrors the quest for structural change by quickly applying violent techniques to printed transparencies created from images from the protests. By fusing, ripping, tearing, poking, applying chemicals, burning and otherwise damaging the transparencies, Redwood achieves ekphrasis regarding the tumultuous and still-changing situations captured in the musical works. Finally, the altered works are re-assembled and illuminated to reveal the content and historical process of the whole document, along with the composition’s incompleteness. By letting the light of “what is coming into being” through, the image becomes a snapshot of a past, a relative present, and a future as yet uncertain, but that is certain to come, just the same. 

All proceeds will be donated to support Critical Resistance’s work on the movement to end the Prison Industrial Complex