Within the narrow confines of the Neil L. and Angelica Zander Rudenstine Gallery, the scenes of rage, shame, and transcendence captured by late photographer Rotimi Fani-Kayode seek to overcome conventions. The provocative images of “Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989)”, an exhibit hosted by the W.E.B. Du Bois Institute for African and African American Research, engulf and overwhelm with the impact of shamanic vision.

Rotimi Fani-Kayode was a conflicted man. He describes himself as an “outsider on three counts: in matters of sexuality; in terms of geographical and cultural dislocation; and in the sense of not having become the sort of respectably married professional [his] parents might have hoped for.” Confronted by the conflict between his attempt to assert himself and the attempts of others who wanted to shape him into something else, Fani-Kayode used photography to defend his individuality. “Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989)”, which catalogues Fani-Kayode’s photography from 1983 until his AIDS-related death in 1989, serves as a testament to that struggle. In embracing himself through photographic self-portraits, Fani-Kayode bares himself—everything from his homosexuality to his Yoruba tribal heritage to his life in the West.

Fani-Kayode’s artwork was inspired by “techniques of ecstasy,” a material and ceremonial form of inspiration used by Yoruba tribesmen to escape the bounds of the physical world and break through to the spiritual world. Through his photography, Fani-Kayode hoped to find his true spirit by transcending the conventions of his environment—from the conservative social mores of Yoruba culture to the prejudices of Western society. The intent behind the photography of “Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989)” is clearly honest, open, and noble. However, whether Fani-Kayode’s search for his identity is actually accessible to the viewer is more ambiguous.

In fact, the uncompromising honesty of this collection of photographs and its brazen contempt for conventions is precisely what makes it a difficult exhibit to relate to. In many of the photographs of the exhibition, there appears one reoccurring form: the exposed male body. To the viewer unaccustomed to publicly-displayed nudity outside of designated beaches and Primal Scream, the mass of unclothed bodies is initially shocking.

“Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989)” may be galvanizing, but it is not content with merely assaulting the viewer’s expectations; instead, it seeks to form a pact with the viewer. For his part, Fani-Kayode exposes his deepest struggles on celluloid. The viewer must fulfill his end of the bargain by keeping an open mind to the content of the photographs; otherwise, he cannot relate meaningfully to the ideas Fani-Kayode presents.

Fani-Kayode understood that his audiences would be unaccustomed to the often spiritually and sexually infused nature of his photographs. And in fact, it is far too easy to retreat to preconceived notions of appropriate cultural behavior. Because the explicit subject matter is distracting, the viewer loses the ability to view the photos holistically. If, however, viewers are able to strip away their prejudices, “Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989)” presents perceptive and personal reflections on life that extend beyond the comforts of convention.

Using symbolism and techniques of lighting as his instruments, Fani-Kayode carefully sculpts images of inner conflict. In one photograph left untitled, the concept of tribal masculinity is emphasized by the intense light that shines on Fani-Kayode’s chest, which is puffed up like that of a bird trying to impress a potential mate. In his outstretched hands, he carries colorfully painted tribal feathers that he fans towards the camera lens. Here, Fani-Kayode captures an aggressive figure who simultaneously offers the comfort of tradition through a symbolic image of culture. However, the photograph also reveals a cultural prudishness through its aversion to the open expression of sexuality. The region below the waist is darkened, and the only discernible forms are a golden phallus incorporated into a threatening horned visage drawn in tribal paint.

In another photograph entitled “Black Friar,” Fani-Kayode is dressed in black religious garb and set against a dimly lit background. His face is lit from below, as if illuminated by ceremonial candlelight. Fani-Kayode looks uncomfortable in his friar’s robes. The lighting is just strong enough to capture his eyes, which avert downwards and away from the penetrating gaze of the camera and the viewer. Fani-Kayode’s attire seems to suggest conventional Western spirituality; the photographer’s apparent awkwardness in such garb intimates the discomfort of his relationship with these religious values, perhaps due to his homosexuality and his African heritage.

Throughout “Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989),” the audience is struck by similarly evocative and potent images that present an individual crashing against and through boundaries created by his circumstances. Akin to a subject placed under trance by Yoruba shamans, the viewer of “Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1955-1989)” can retain focus or be distracted, drawn astray by the explicit nature of the photographs. Disciplined viewers, however, are rewarded with a moving meditation of one man’s interpretation of what it means to be displaced.