The artist Diamond Stingily discusses discipline, boundaries and security with writer Yves B. Golden.
Words: Yves B. Golden
Images: Rahim Fortune
Diamond Stingily is a poet, artist, performer and one of the funniest people I have ever met. This February, I got to sit with her backstage at the ‘24 Women's History Museum runway presentation for New York Fashion Week, as a primer to this interview about her life and work. Stingily’s oeuvre is difficult to neatly summarize. She is a maker of iconic impulses: her gallery installations include braided kanekalon hair trailing from floor to ceiling; dismembered brass limbs immersed in silica sand; abandoned, battered doors with baseball bats lying ominously beside them; death masks; and homegoing stagings. As an actor, she recently starred in Martine Syms’ remarkable feature-length 2022 film, The African Desperate. Stingily’s nuanced performance, which drew from her own video riffs on social media influencers, was somehow both mesmerizing and relatable. It feels true to say that Stingily’s work is a warm lantern casting light on the human experience. In her multi-hyphenate career, she has already managed to capture beauty, sorrow and resilience. Here, she discusses acting as an expansion of her practice, setting boundaries, and what success really looks like.
Yves B Golden: You’ve got so much range, Diamond! You went from starring in The African Desperate in 2022 to your incredibly moving solo show at Greene Naftali gallery last year. Are you about to make another big shift?
Diamond Stingily: Well, I don't want to get stuck being known for one particular thing or one particular art piece. I think with acting I'm now getting maybe a little bit of a smidge of a pinch of recognition, but I feel that performance has always been a part of my practice. I think it's all an expansion of ‘the work.’ In terms of that practice evolving, I'm getting older, I'm aging and therefore the work is changing. I’m friends with performing artists, and recently I have participated in productions or performances that they asked me to be a part of. One of the very first castings that I went to was because of my friend, the director Nuotama Bodomo, who I got to know after working with her on [the television series] Random Acts of Flyness in 2018. Recently, I was cast in Antigone, the Anne Carson play that A--Company restaged for their pre-fall 2024 collection. I feel that performance has always been a part of my practice. Me and you, we know each other on a personal level. You know I can be a bit animated once you get to know me. She can turn it on when she wants to.
YBG: You’re very suited for the stage. You can be so commanding and subtle at the same time. I remember from hearing you read poetry back in the day. You’re kind of a hard-hitter in all the arenas. What's next though? What’s the stunt, sis?
DS: Girl, I don't know! I don't know. We all have to wait and see… Something's always going to happen for me. Which I'm happy for. But in all honesty, I really don't know. Sometimes, I don't even know that it's a stunt until someone tells me it was a stunt.
YBG: That speaks to a presentness or a groundedness in you. It makes me think about your exhibition “Sand,” and more broadly of the labor that goes into your braiding and sewing work. You’re a very disciplined person, which probably makes you so suited to acting as well. Do you think of yourself as an athlete?
DS: I don't think I ever was a star player of a team, but I was a starter. I think that being a part of a team, being an athlete, taught me discipline, to a certain extent. I have to do it whether or not I'm getting validation or people are watching me. It's a practice of always being better. My past as an athlete has taught me that you constantly have to practice, practice, practice and do things that really challenge you. You won't always feel comfortable doing it, but that’s about wanting to be better at the craft.
YBG: How do you celebrate your successes?
DS: I recognize what I do, but I don't think I celebrate enough. I have to teach myself how to celebrate myself, maybe. I grew up in a modest household. We got thumbs-ups, pats on the back, a “good job,” but I can be very hard on myself – my father called it “do or die.” It can be really all or nothing with me. I have been trying to pull back and recognize what I do. When I feel giddy, sometimes my ego gets humbled. I’ll think, ‘that's being boastful’ or ‘don't nobody actually care’ even if they actually do care. Things hit me late because things can be really overwhelming. I haven't been on this earth that long at all, but I've accomplished a lot. I’ve survived, I've lived many lives and I've gone through a lot of things.
YBG: I feel like Diamonds are known for being stronger than anything, cooked under immense pressure. Within your name there's this expectation that you are prepared to shine no matter what. There’s something prophetic there.
DS: My mother named me. I'm sure my father has some help in that, of course, but I feel my mother named me to be very precious to her. I was named out of love. I used to not like my name as a child, but now I appreciate my name a lot more. I'm grown and my mother's not here anymore. So, I really cherish my name because I can tell that my mother was very excited for me to be in her life and to be her first daughter.
YBG: What's an accomplishment that would make you feel overjoyed? Do you want to land on the moon or something in the future?
DS: Honestly, real ‘security.’ I don't know exactly what that means, but maybe knowing that my family's good and that I helped in that. Maybe if I owned some property and if my nieces didn't have to worry about anything like their education. Security is such a falsehood – it's not real.
YBG: Totally.
DS: I mean going to the moon is great, too. But, on some realistic stuff, I’d like to be able to take care of my health, have good insurance.
YBG: There are a lot of restrictions in your work. Sometimes these are metaphorical, like with your door installations, or sometimes there are physical boundaries which keep people from getting too close to the work. As a peer and a friend, I find that you have good boundaries. What's a boundary you have with others that enhances your life? Something you would never compromise on.
DS: The first thing that comes to mind, as silly as it sounds – shoes off when you're in the house. I can't be shaken on that. If someone tells you it's a no shoe household, you have to respect that.
I also want everyone to be clear. Communication is so important to me, and I don't like repeating myself. I have to check my attitude about certain things. Unclench, relax.
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YBG: You have seemed pretty chilled out to me since I met you. That’s part of ‘the work’ though?
DS: I've always been laid back, but I used to be more of a people pleaser when I was younger. We all have to get a grip sometime.
YBG: What kind of grip?
DS: Besides financial literacy, I think everyone could learn that it is truly okay to say no.
YBG: You have really good one-liners, and there are a lot of profound moments in the titles of your work. I love the text on your trophy artworks. “Through all the madness, this is all you gone get.” Or, “I did the best I could with what I had.” How do you come up with them?
DS: The show in San Francisco at the Wattis Institute had a lot of sayings from talking to my brother, friends, and from a Fred Moten lecture.
YBG: Do you keep a lot of notes?
DS: I have a bunch of notebooks that are halfway filled up. I like stationary, grid paper, nice pencils and erasers and things. I write lots of poetry, stories and stuff but I don't want them to be seen by other people. I want to get better at archiving stuff.
YBG: What would your ideal archive look like?
DS: It's a room with lots of file cabinets and storage space. It's not a part of my house though, I have to drive there.
YBG: Your work gives me a lot of big feelings – in both its poetry and visceral materiality, it feels that it draws us out as witnesses. Your pieces can resemble sanctuaries to me. What would your ideal sanctuary look like?
DS: Ideally, if I had a place of sanctuary, it would smell really nice. It would be dark, cozy with a nice chair and a pew for me to sit or lounge with a book. Lots of books and skincare. Honestly, this is starting to sound like a bathroom a little bit.
YBG: I’m into it! I have nice bathroom fantasies.
DS: But, you know, the toilet has to be in another room.
YBG: Without a doubt. Is there healing in your work for us, for you?
DS: My intention wasn't to heal anyone, but there is something very therapeutic for me in creating.
This article was taken from WIP magazine Issue 10, available at select global retailers, Carhartt WIP stores, and our online shop
