Warren Reilly: “Exploring my own version of my heritage is fascinating”
The artist, designer and historian on archiving mixedness, global compassion and exploring his identity
Hi, welcome back to Mixed Messages! This week I’m speaking to artist, designer and historian Warren Reilly, who is of mixed Jamaican and Irish heritage. Warren’s exhibition By The Cut Of Their Cloth explored 300 years of Brent’s mixed-heritage history in collaboration with The Mixed Museum, of which he is now Associate Creative Director. Warren also recently showed his End of Residency Exhibition at ASC studios, his first solo London show. Warren’s historical perspective on mixedness is a fascinating contrast to my focus on modern creators – read his story below.
How do you define your mixed identity?
I’m a quarter Jamaican and the rest Irish. My mother’s father is from Jamaica and my grandmother’s family were either Polish or German Jews. Unfortunately the marriage didn’t go well, and my mother was brought up in a single parent family. She had a difficult relationship with her Blackness because of that strained relationship with her Black family.
My father is from Ireland, but born in the UK. We used to go to Ireland in the summer holidays. I have a yearning to go to Jamaica, but I don’t think I’d feel safe as a queer person.
I did a test and a lot of my DNA is actually from West Africa. My gene pool was mixed through the plantations. That can be a difficult conversation when you’re Caribbean, you don’t talk about being African, but I want to explore that more.
Has your appearance ever affected the way you’ve felt about your heritage?
As a child, I just thought I was white. I had blonde hair and blue eyes, but I was asked by other children if I had Black in me because of my features. This happened especially at secondary school, but at that point I was more aware and comfortable explaining what my mix was.
People made presumptions about me and told me that I was white – that’s why I’m so big on promoting my heritage. I accept that I could pass, but I don’t want to live my life like that. I’m willing to have these difficult conversations because I want to do my ancestors justice, in the fact that they could not live a life as free as me.
For a long time, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to present who I really was in terms of both my race and sexuality. Now, my work is a way of saying “I’m not gonna let you oppress me any longer. I’m gonna live the life I want to live.”
What terminology do you use to describe yourself?
Recently, people have found it uncomfortable to use the term ‘mixed-race.’ I didn’t understand why until I found out it was related to ‘half-caste’ and ‘half-breed,’ this idea that we’re impure.
What I love about the term mixed-race is the fact that we’re all mixed in some way. It’s really sad that we have to categorise ourselves into boxes. Being Black is part of our identity and heritage, it’s in our being, but it’s also important to differentiate our struggles. We experience racism and different forms of oppression, but ultimately that’s never going to be the same as a Black person has experienced.
How have you connected to your heritage?
I’ve connected through food – my mother’s got this Caribbean cookbook that she’s had since I was a child. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s special to me. I cooked from it at university, I had that Caribbean aunty vibe. I like sharing food, it’s a way to share your heritage with people.
I also grew up around a large African-Caribbean community, so I grew up with Black hair shops like Pak’s and Juliets. I’ve also recently learned more from my Caribbean side of the family, seeing photos and hearing stories.
Exploring my own version of what my mixed heritage is has been fascinating to discover – it’s been a big awakening process.
I’m very interested in the idea of archiving mixedness, and how we both do this in different ways.
My research started with aristocrats, people who were already going to be recorded, painted and sculpted. When I volunteered at Kenwood House near Hampstead Heath, I connected with the story of Dido Elizabeth Belle [a mixed-Black British gentlewoman initially born into slavery.]
I come from a background where I may never find out who some of my relatives are because of slavery and abuse, horrible atrocities that mean I might never be given the keys to unlock those secrets. That’s why The Mixed Museum is so important, it’s breaking that cycle. It’s a huge honour to know that I’m leaving a legacy.
We worked with Lucy Bland and her book Britain’s ‘Brown Babies,’ which was about babies born to Black GIs and white British women. The children’s mixedness was hidden from them, they were lied to. Their documentation and pictures of their fathers weren’t accessible. People being able to trace their family back is something people take for granted, but it’s been robbed from some people of colour.
We’re the fastest growing demographic within Britain, and arguably the world. There’s a lack of understanding from big institutions on what an important topic this is and the wealth of people that represent mixedness. Why aren’t these things being recorded and highlighted? I’m frustrated. I feel like it’s my duty to make this a recognised concept, and not one that’s tokenistic. There are so many people from mixed heritage backgrounds in high forms of art, sculpture, painting and textile design.
As well as your work, how else has your mixed heritage influenced you?
It’s impacted my mindset. I think everybody should do a DNA test – it would make people realise we’re not so divided as we’re portrayed to be. When you realise you’re mixed, you realise that you’re connected to everyone and that makes you more open and accepting. We’re all human beings living on this rock, right?
Acknowledging people’s mixedness isn’t always about race, either. The more we realise that we’re made up of different cultures, societies and experiences, the better the world will be.
Have you noticed any stereotypes around mixedness?
There’s a stereotype of us being castaways, discarded because we don’t fit into either Black or white communities. There’s also a stereotype that we’re trying to jump on the bandwagon of monoracial Black struggle, but we are part of Black history, just our own segment of it.
What’s the best thing about being mixed for you?
It’s beautiful, vibrant and colourful, but also sad at times. All these things have made me a well-rounded person and I’ve got so much determination and resilience from this experience.
Can you describe your mixed identity in one word?
Fabulous!
Follow Warren on Instagram. Next week, I’ll be talking to actress Sèverine Howell-Meri. Subscribe to get Mixed Messages in your inbox on Monday.
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Mixed Messages is a weekly exploration of the mixed-race experience, from me, Isabella Silvers. My mom is Punjabi (by way of East Africa) and my dad is white British, but finding my place between these two cultures hasn’t always been easy. That’s why I started Mixed Messages, where each week I’ll speak to a prominent mixed voice to delve into what it really feels like to be mixed.
I think the end of this piece was cut off... I don’t see where Warren describes their mixed identity in one word. Did I miss it somewhere?
I very much appreciate their outlining of how difficult it can be, as a person with Black heritage, to trace one’s ancestry.
I especially related to this passage:
“People made presumptions about me and told me that I was white – that’s why I’m so big on promoting my heritage. I accept that I could pass, but I don’t want to live my life like that. I’m willing to have these difficult conversations because I want to do my ancestors justice, in the fact that they could not live a life as free as me. “