Residency Project: The Elephant
FBE: Can you describe your process from idea to finished piece?
GD: As an activist, my work is rooted in lived experience. Social topics aren’t just concepts to me - they’re personal. Art has always been my way of processing what I’ve lived through, what I carry, and what I witness in the world.
This project began with a dream: a young girl in a small room, trying to pull a giant elephant through a narrow doorway. She wanted the elephant - huge, clumsy, undeniable - to be with her in that confined space. Later, I envisioned her pulling the elephant through an archway, onto a board game. The board game suggests life as a kind of navigation - what’s our next move? What do we carry forward, and what can we leave behind? That image became a metaphor that now anchors the work.
The elephant is our emotional and social baggage - our traumas, how others perceive us, our inherited and lived identities. The arch represents transformation: the moment when what feels impossible becomes possible through action.
Mirrors appear in the installation to invite reflection. They ask: What burdens are we carrying? What are we not addressing? Are we being honest with ourselves?
At first glance, the piece might not seem overtly political. But for me, it is. The personal is political.
During my research, I watched “A Swedish Elephant”, a 2018 documentary about immigration and refugee politics in Sweden. It resonated deeply with the themes of the project. It reminded me that the “elephant” isn’t just in my room it’s in your room, our room.
This work aims to create an open space. I’m exploring ways to involve the community - perhaps through participatory performance, a dialogue with local politicians (especially with elections coming next year), or through collaboration with Ung Arena. The project is still evolving, but my intention is clear: to create a space where we can confront what is unspoken - together.
Facing Criticism and Censorship
FBE: Have you ever faced criticism or censorship?
GD: Absolutely. Being an activist and often the only bBlack Queer (we usually take for Black the big B because its not the color black but the position in society“ woman/person in white spaces has led to many difficult situations - criticism, arguments, legal issues. That’s the price of being true to yourself, to your ideal. This isn’t just a choice or belief — it’s deeply tied to who I am as a Black queer person. it’s a matter of survival. It’s about protecting my existence and demanding the dignity and respect that every person deserves.
Absolutely. Being an activist, and an artist - and often the only Black Queer person in white spaces - has led to many difficult situations: criticism, arguments, legal issues. That’s the price of being true to yourself and your ideals. But for me, these ideals aren’t just abstract beliefs - they’re deeply tied to who I am. Resistance isn’t optional for me. It’s a matter of survival. It’s about protecting my existence and demanding the dignity and respect that every person deserves.
SG: How do you handle that?
GD: Therapy, community care. I also got insurance to cover me if anything happens. Art helps too, its like natural medicine. Becoming an activist was a long process, I used to be very shy. Social media helped a lot, connecting me with others with similar experiences. For a long time, I was told, "You’re just imagining discrimination, you are crazy“. At the same time Western Therapy helps to a point, but if society doesn’t change, these experiences will keep happening, my hope is stronger in the community.
Final Thoughts
SG: Your approach sounds very aligned with OpenArt.
GD: Art should be accessible to a broad and diverse public - not just something for wealthy, white audiences to enjoy. In my last project, I worked with the Black community in Innsbruck for two years., organizing events, talks, and workshops in white spaces. It deepened my understanding of what art can be: a powerful tool to connect people, build communities, and bridge the gap between those communities and art spaces.
SG: If I can add - what happens when you work with communities this way, as we do in the Magic Carpets project, might feel small to us as organizers or artists. But for the community, it can mean so much. Jens (OpenArt’s technician) was telling me about one very quiet girl in the group - on the second day, she began to open up and started talking. That’s exactly why we do this. If it makes a difference for just one person, that makes it all worth it.
GD: I was very happy about the outcome of the workshop. I had brought this little booklet with me, showing the screen-printing technique step by step - that really helped break the ice. We folded the booklet together, and even the youth workers were surprised by the progress the young people made. Many of them were already really good artists - painting, creating things. I put all of my hope in the next generations. We really need to take care of them: supporting, nurturing, and creating opportunities so they can thrive and lead in the future. I know it sounds harsh, but sometimes it feels like real change won’t come until the old systems - and the people clinging to them - fade out. We need a shift.