To me, you are Beloved – Djenaba and Lisa

Roundtable collaborates with GUCCI and agency A Vibe Called Tech on a photo and essay series capturing the essence of Black British identity and family history – in celebration of GUCCI’s Beloved line of handbags. For To me, you are Beloved mother and daughter, Lisa and Djenaba, share how their love for music has been a tool for powerful self-discovery in generations of their family.

For this series four sets of creatives and entrepreneurs were invited to recreate a moment in time, using old family photographs as creative inspiration, whilst incorporating pieces from GUCCI’s Beloved line. At once meaningful and playful, these portraits by Delali Ayivi have been styled and shot to allude to fond memories captured in family archives. Led by a team of women of colour, To me, you are Beloved is a love letter to Black British identity and family history.

When a child is born it’s a joyous affair. No one knows who the child will become, whose lives they will touch, or where they’ll end up, but soon after birth, they are all christened with hope. Hope for many things – long life and prosperity – but most importantly, the hope that they’ll know who they are, even without having been to where they came from.

“Mum you’re distracting me.”

Djenaba (aka Damsel Elysium) speaks softly but decisively. Her mother, Lisa, responds with an equal softness, and they’re a picture of sharp and sweet, gentle and strong. Theirs is a story of the fluidity of identity. Lisa is Cuban and English, and Djenaba has the addition of being half Nigerian, Efik to be exact. Neither fits neatly into a census box, but then again, who does?

Djenaba and Lisa for Roundtable x GUCCI by Delali Ayivi

*Djenaba’s paternal grandparents enraptured in song at a church*

For this series in collaboration with GUCCI, Djenaba and Lisa chose to recreate family photos that feel subtle yet familiar – the ceremony of family gatherings is something most Black Brits know well. One image captures Lisa’s family friends getting the little one out of the car, gifts in hand, heading into church for a Christening. The other shows Djenaba’s paternal grandparents, enraptured in song at a place of worship.

*Lisa's family friends heading into a christening*

The question of who you are naturally evolves into a question of who you're made of. It is fraught with expectations of proof and justification about the purity of heritage. For Djenaba, discovering classical music at five years old transcended identity. She describes her violin as her best friend and instantly fell in love with playing. Sadly, the classical world represented a microcosm of racism and elitism, where predominantly white, middle-class gatekeepers could not suspend disbelief that a Black child was gifted, so Djenaba gave it up.

Djenaba Roundtable Journal x GUCCI by Delali Ayivi

“I'd seen her play. I believed in her.”

Sometimes that's all it takes. For someone to see you, and for you to see someone that reminds you it's possible. Lisa had seen her daughter's heartbreak firsthand, and had also experienced giving up classical music at a young age. But today they're both on journeys of rediscovery. Djenaba has been inspired by a flurry of string music that reminded her about what she'd left behind. She has unearthed archives of Efik music, dancing and art that allowed her to weave new meaning into parts of her that she'd lost, and ultimately never even knew she had.

“It’ll make your heart feel good.”

It sounds simple. Lisa says as much when describing the transformative power of music, as this mystical, healing force, passed down not only from mother to daughter, but back the other way, as they find ways to collaborate and create as equals. Djenaba is authoritative when she asserts that music doesn't have to be one thing. And we’re full circle, willing that those who come after us, are christened with the hope that they don't have to be one thing either.