A Seat at the Table: A Weapon Against Silence

Solange’s artistry has always been central to activism, but A Seat at the Table furthers this even more. The album reflects on identity, and the power of one’s voice to reclaim a space. This abstract review traces her alchemy of emotion into expression — and, without a doubt, something defiantly resistant. The Mic’s Bea Kasale reports.

Original Album Cover of A Seat at the Table

يأتي وقت حيث الصمت هو الخيانة

“There comes a time when silence is betrayal.”— Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

The moment is distinct and so distant from the present that it feels as though you are being robbed of your humanity. But what lies on the extreme end, the feeling that is, is a sense familiar with empowerment. For a moment, insecurity and all forms of shame are impeached. I didn’t know, then for a moment, I thought I did, but I ultimately came to know that I knew nothing at all.

Solange Piaget Knowles, to many — most who are still sat in oblivion — is more than an artist. She is not contained within the bounds of curation or lost in the mist of being an entertainer. Solange is a movement.

Don't Touch My Hair (Official Music Video)

The moment I was alluding to is one I have been intimate with on every occasion I so obviously stuck out. Whether I was waltzing into a room where my speech didn’t quite suit the rhythm or my tone was a little out of reach for the vast majority, it felt as though I was embodying the absence of humanity. I have embraced, even held onto, many moments where it felt as though my nature was a crime — and the subsequent cost was my humanity.

Sitting in that moment, or moments rather, was cold, but just as warm. There was an imbalance that belonged to no lexical field. It, therefore, eluded understanding.

So there I was — trapped and bemused. Encroached by shame, fear, and drowning in diffidence.

Then a light, of sorts, struck the darkness — sharp and brave. But I came to understand that it was the mastered symphony sung by Solange. Solange, through music, empowered me; Solange impeached my shame.

"Solange has transformed the plea of generations before her into a weapon against silence"

Solange, through magic and sheer grace, has been able to transform the plea of generations before her into a weapon against silence. Solange is able to gaze into the reflections that look back at us and turns our pain into something strong enough to speak. Solange — yes, you, Solange — you are a weapon against silence.

You didn’t condemn betrayal. No — you compelled your listeners, engulfed them in conviction. You coaxed us to witness the ramifications of silence. You taught us not to hate it, but to experience what it might do — how it might ruin us. How silence would never call us by name. How it would damn us in darkness. Leave us in the darkness. Silence would not — silence will not — see me. Silence might never reiterate love.

Oh, my Solange, are you aware that you have contributed so significantly to paving the way for loud, unabating, shameless, and honest noise? Solange, I am here, and I am screaming. My lungs won’t give out — I have become a weapon against betrayal. Solange Piaget Knowles, there’s a future that owes its freedom to you. There is a reality that owes its kindness and warmth to you. Solange, there is a space in eternity that owes its hope to you.

Cranes in the Sky (Official Video)

It’s in these moments I wonder if the likes of Dr. King Jr. — and of course, if he himself — knew that his pursuit of a “revolutionary thrust” would one day so aptly translate the artistry of Solange Piaget Knowles.

Alright, I have read this back and concluded that this is an extended means of urging you to give A Seat at the Table by Solange a thorough and intentful listen.

Bea Kasale

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Edited by Daniela Roux

Album cover photo courtesy of Solange, YouTube videos courtesy of Solange