The African continent and its diaspora have always relied on music to tell their stories. Dispersed across the oceans and over hundreds of years of migration, Africans have stayed connected through sounds and vibration. The continent’s rhythms traverse the world and create genres that influence, even dominate, local music scenes everywhere. Music is healing. It’s political. And it tells the story of how the African diaspora lives and evolves. Music is how we keep our identity throughout displacement. From Jamaican Dancehall to African-American rap to UK grime, musicians archive diasporic experiences and keep us in tune with each other.
A playlist can have power and meaning when done right. It can be a testament to a particular time or a specific place, unearthing marginalised histories and giving credit to culture-makers that may be forgotten as we indulge in the latest creations and sounds. Leticia Sanchez Garris, a Dominican creative and the mother of afrohunting, curates playlists that showcase African and African-descended music. She formed afrohunting as an Afro-Latinx community of artists and musicians exploring diasporic creativity and collaboration worldwide. Based between Argentina and Nigeria, Garris uses her degree in advertising and unique eye for aesthetics to highlight the history, literature and photography of the diaspora on her platform. Delving into the world of afrohunting, you will find fine art, films documenting Black life, a book on African spiritualities, and endless fashion inspirations.
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About afrohunting
Garris moved to Buenos Aires, Argentina’s capital, ten years ago, originally to work in the tourist industry. “When I first arrived, it was rare to see any Black people”, she remembers. “Of course, they exist, and there’s also a big international Black community, but nobody knew about them.” This lack of awareness was partly due to language barriers; most African diasporic dialogue is held in English and French. She decided to start afrohunting in 2017, writing in Spanish and artistically visualising Black cultural narratives. “When I started meeting Afro-Argentines, most conversations were about racism and problems. I want to show that there’s something different, not only for others but also for ourselves”, explains Garris. “I want us to remember that life is beautiful and that we are beautiful. I want to live the life I want to live. I don’t want to be fighting all the time; I want to be a happy person.” She taught herself graphic design, community management and photography and started building her platform. “As we say in Spanish: I threw myself in the pool”, Garris laughs. Four years later, afrohunting now has its own clothes and jewellery line and is readying to go on tour across Europe and West Africa.
Music = community building
Nineties babies might be the last cohort to remember the burnt CDs we used to swap with our friends in high school: carefully selecting songs we heard on the radio and assembling them into what have now become online playlists. There’s something intimate about building a thoughtful selection of songs that tell a story or capture an emotion. “The first playlist I made in my life was with my father in 2004”, remembers Garris. He used to always play music at their home. “My friend had bought an Aaliyah CD, and I also wanted one but didn’t have money. So I borrowed it, and my dad burned it for me and also photocopied the artwork. He made a real full copy.” She started collecting music and making it into records to share with friends. “Music = community building. Growing up, I didn’t go clubbing and instead went to concerts where I met people who shared the same interests.”
In Buenos Aires, she managed a cultural centre and bar for which she would curate playlists. Then the pandemic hit, and work stopped. She wanted to do something new with afrohunting and continue to connect with like-minded people through sharing music, so she teamed up with a DJ from Honduras and created the afrohunting music archive: only African diasporic music, any genre, any artist. “For our first playlists, we would choose five artists and introduce their music”, she recounts. “Then, I only wanted to play women. After that, I focused on cover art.” A fascination with French music followed, before curating a playlist that featured only love songs. “We started inviting people to make cover art for our playlists and reached out to DJs to guest-curate their own thematic mixes for us.” These mixes evolved into the first afrohunting parties and a diasporic family of music lovers.
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There’s an art in making the perfect playlist
Garris’ favourite afrohunting playlists are those that are ever-evolving reminders of where our music originally came from. “There is Africa Sunday which features songs from the 70s that our fathers used to listen to, like highlife and afrobeat”, she explains. “Then there’s Yoruba cantos which shows how present Yoruba culture is in the Americas and the Caribbean.” Garris is currently working on a playlist that preserves the original reggaeton sound that she grew up listening to, aiming to combat it becoming “gentrified and whitewashed”. For her, researching music and bringing it to her communities is a way to connect with the people that came before us and have shaped our art and mindsets in the present. It’s a way of feeding her soul. “I need to nurture myself in order to return to DR and nurture my country.” When she does eventually return, Garris plans to open an afrohunting gallery and host residencies for the diaspora to explore ourselves, our art, and the music that holds us together.