As a young college student and Africentric scholar, I was riveted by a breathtaking film that debuted in 1990, Daughters of the Dust by Julie Dash, director and writer. There was a close-up scene with the leading character and showing a grandmother's dark, nurturing hands. They were strong, weathered, and permanently stained deep blue by indigo. The narrator of the scene spoke about the powerful determination of the Igbo—ancient African people who were enslaved in a foreign land and forced to grow and produce indigo dye under harsh, deadly conditions. There were some women and men among those so-called "slaves" who grew tired of suffering and chose to leave their suffering life of labor and FLY back home.

It's not often that a film will change your life. Yet viewing this story inspired by the Gullah Geechee people of coastal Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina landed me on an exciting timeline of asking BIG questions, seeking spiritual truth, and ultimately choosing to fulfill my highest destiny.

Remembering the story of indigo became a passionate interest of mine. Reading books and researching resources, over time, led me to meeting with scholars, as well as studying with artists hundreds of miles and continents away. With determination, I conducted my own experiments with tie-dyeing cloth and persisted in learning new techniques.

While I followed trails of curiosity and inspiration, I told the Creator, my Angels, and the Ancestors,

"Yes, Spirit! I'll Go...."

This is a soulful mission, learning about indigo-dyeing traditions that originated in ancient West Africa and were sustained in the United States by generations of unacknowledged and nearly-forgotten enslaved individuals. My visits to Louisiana heritage sites have enabled me to pay respects to the memories and spirits of the Indigenous native peoples who originally stewarded the land, and the Black people who labored on the land while in bondage.

The economic foundation and prosperity of the state harkens back to indigo being a profitable crop. Plantations thrived because of the expertise and skill possessed by enslaved people massively imported from the Senegambia region.

According to a web article published by West Baton Rouge Museum, "In the 18th century, European consumers clamored for indigo-dyed fabrics and paints, but indigo could not be grown in Europe’s climate, so European colonial powers turned their attention to subtropical colonies in the New World, such as southern portions of Louisiana. 

In order to establish indigo as a cash crop, European slave traders enslaved experienced indigo farmers and dyers from West Africa and brought them to Louisiana. Indigo plantations appeared on the West Baton Rouge landscape in the late 1780s through the 1790s. Indigo was fairly profitable until 1793, when a plague of caterpillars destroyed the crop. Planters in search of a new cash crop eventually turned to sugar cane [and cotton in other areas].(westbatonrougemuseum.org)

It is fascinating to learn that in colonial Louisiana, before "cotton and sugar cane were kings," indigo was queen. 

My creative approach to visioning and designing Louisiana Indigo (TM) is deeply informed by my appreciation and studies of Yoruba (Nigerian) adire cloth design, patterning, and dyeing techniques. The West African indigo cultural arts tradition has been carried forward over many generations by artisan families, at centers of trade, via women's guilds, through community based arts schools, and contemporary artist entrepreneurs.

Looking locally for understanding and inspiration, I have made pilgrimages to Whitney Plantation, Melrose Plantation, Oakland Plantation, Magnolia Plantation, New Orleans Museum of Art, Congo Square, Poverty Point, The Red River, The Mississippi River, and more places to come. These research and discovery visits have allowed me to observe and imagine motifs, patterns, and imagery that convey very old stories of the deep south landscape, Louisiana's heritage, and the indigo cultivators' experiences. Importantly, I also have incorporated healing symbols that express human values shared by people across cultures and over time.

It is necessary for me to appreciate many wonderful people who have been encouraging my journey of reclaiming indigo. I am grateful for my teachers who are master artists, Arianne King Comer (South Carolina), Oladapo Agboola (Osun State, Nigeria), and Gasali Adeyemo (New Mexico). Also, I express respect to Iya Nike Davies, the international Queen of Adire and philanthropist based in Lagos, Nigeria, who I pray and trust to meet and sit at her feet to learn. Furthermore, I thank Professor Phoenix Savage, Dr. Angelique Feaster Evans, Nana Sula Janet Evans, and Baba Marcus Sangodoyin Akinlana, for their collegial advisory support. Last but not least, love and appreciation to my the Lewis, Jordan, and Henderson Families, and specifically my Queen Mother Nannie, brother Milton, and sons Psalm and Dayo, for their unconditional love, hands-on teamwork, and confidence in me.

In my view, indigo is the color of ingenuity. Throughout the ages, the plant and hue reveal the dynamic ways that humans are resourceful, resilient, solution focused, and positively inventive.

Indigo conjures historic memory, and reminds us that cultural genius, and wealth are transmitted over generations. Indigo is a vibrational spiritual conductor enabling us to access to realms of peace, serenity, intuition, and divine communication. Through my reverence for indigo over the decades, I have discovered new dimensions of purpose, guided by wisdom of the honorable Ancestors and whispers of the Earth.

The Louisiana Indigo (TM) revival is my faith walk. My ongoing lifetime commitment is to cultivate cultural arts and educational experiences that enrich the quality of life for myself, my family, and people who value growth through community connection. I believe that reclaiming "the indigo blues" is good-feeling medicine in times like these.

Copyright (c)

Leia Lewis

All rights reserved.