Dear Lucien
CHANDRIKA METIVIER, Dear Lucien, 2024, Digital collage
Dear Lucien is a deeply personal reflection of my experience with loss, memory, and the disconnect I’ve felt from my Haitian heritage. After my father passed away when I was six, I was left to navigate my identity without the direct connection to the land and culture he represented. In this piece, I’ve gathered fragments of my past—scans of old photographs, handwritten cards, journal entries, negative film strips, plane tickets, pages from photo albums, and a memorial flyer—each piece serving as a trace of what I lost and what I continue to long for.
These relics, layered together, form a kind of visual archive of my family’s history and my own fragmented memories. As I sift through these remnants of my past, I’m reminded of the gaps between who I am and where I come from. The collage is an attempt to reclaim and reconnect—to breathe new life into the memories and histories that remain just out of reach. Each element—a photograph, a note, a ticket—represents a moment I hold onto, a piece of a story that is always present in my mind, even if I can’t fully touch it.
This work is not just about my father or my own experience; it’s about the broader struggle of the Haitian diaspora—navigating the complexities of identity and belonging from a distance. It’s a tribute to my father, to my heritage, and to all those who are separated from their roots but continue to carry their culture and history in their hearts. Through this collage, I try to make sense of what it means to be both grounded in the past and always reaching toward a future where I can fully understand and embrace my identity.
As an artist of Haitian, Native, and Mexican descent, my work is inherently tied to the complexities of identity, heritage, and resistance. I often grapple with the disconnection from my Haitian roots, a result of my father’s passing when I was just six years old. In the absence of his presence, my relationship with Haiti has been shaped by a longing for the connection I lost—yet, paradoxically, Haiti continues to live within me through the themes, symbols, and histories embedded in my creative practice.
The work I’ve submitted for Nou Ayiti is a digital collage of my late Haitian father, who represents not just my personal loss but also a broader loss felt within the Haitian diaspora—a collective disconnect from land and culture, often exacerbated by distance, time, and trauma. This piece serves as an act of reclamation. Through it, I attempt to bridge the gap between the Haiti I never fully knew and the Haiti that lives in my blood, my memories, and my dreams. My art, in all its forms—from performance-theatre to text-based public interventions—embodies this struggle of reconnection. Even when I do not consciously evoke Haiti, the symbols of resistance, liberation, and radicalism persist. The symbols of Haiti—the revolution, the struggle, the defiance—are woven into everything I create, because they are, at their core, a reflection of who I am.
Nou Ayiti is a powerful invitation to reimagine a future for Haiti that is autonomous, decolonized, and unbound by the negative narratives imposed upon it. In my practice, I envision a Haiti where our histories are no longer diluted by colonial influence, and where our future is shaped by radical self-determination. My work in public space, particularly through text-based art, is rooted in a desire to provoke and challenge the status quo—to ignite conversations about identity, resistance, and the power of collective action. This aligns with my vision of a Nou Ayiti—a Haiti where its people are not just survivors of colonialism but active architects of a future rich with cultural pride, political autonomy, and environmental justice.
Haiti’s revolutionary legacy—its role as the first Black republic and a beacon of resistance against oppression—is a constant source of inspiration. My performance work and installations seek to extend this legacy into the present and future, blending the personal and political to underscore the urgency of the struggles we face. The intersection of my Native, Haitian, and Mexican identities forms the foundation of my activism, reminding me that our shared histories of resistance and survival are woven together across borders and generations.
By engaging in these conversations through art, I hope to contribute to a vision of Haiti that transcends its challenges and embraces its full potential. Nou Ayiti offers an opportunity to rethink Haiti’s future—one that is free from colonial shadows, one that is proud, unified, and self-determined. Through my work, I aim to honor the legacy of those who came before me and to help build a future where the richness of Haiti’s culture, history, and people is fully realized, celebrated, and sustained.
Chandrika Metivier (b. 1998, Miami, Florida; lives in Houston, Texas) is a non-binary, multidisciplinary artist of Haitian, Native, and Mexican descent whose creative expression spans performance-theatre, soft sculpture, digital collage, and text-based paintings on public structures. Their installations and performances across the United States tackle daring and provocative themes, often drawing from personal narratives to illuminate pressing global issues. These semi-autobiographical pieces underscore the intersections of discrimination and radicalism. Seamlessly blending art with activism, Metivier uses a multitude of disciplines as powerful instruments for social protest. Their collaborative projects include work with The Museum of Fine Arts Houston, DiverseWorks, The Orange Show, Rice University, Soho House, Puma, The Contemporary Austin, SaveArtSpace, and Art At A Time Like This.