Desmond Lewis was in a public park in Greenwood, Mississippi unloading bundles of fireworks. As he does this, a crowd of expecting viewers wait for the Juneteenth celebration in the “cotton capital of the world.”
Lewis is primarily a sculptor who takes industrial materials, mainly concrete and steel or wood and rebar. Then he casts, fabricates, carves, or forges them. For example, his piece “America’s Forgotten,” a 16-foot-tall piece of vertical concrete with several pieces of steel shaped like a chain, stands on the campus of the University of Memphis – the place where Lewis earned his degree in Fine Arts.
Lewis compares his works to African American history in America. To him, their smooth surfaces remind him of all the events and stories that have washed away.
Lewis started his career in pyrotechnics when he went to Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in the summer of 2018, a very old, storied, and selective school. When he was conducting research, he found out that there is little visual difference between the flames that come from a firework or a burning car. “One’s socially acceptable,” he says, “the other’s not.”
To prove that it was true, Lewis lit his first firework. “It was thrilling,” Sarah Workneh, the co-director of Skowhegan recalled. “Everybody was pretty excited that it happened and that it could happen here. The audience was excited by the event itself, by being shown what is possible.”
After this experience, he began working part-time with a large pyrotechnics company to get on-the-job training and eventually earn his display operator’s license. Along with the display operator’s license, he also pursued several other licenses, such as a federal Alcohol Tobacco, Firearms type 54 license, and a driver’s license that allows transportation of hazardous materials. Combined, the licenses allow him to transport, purchase and shoot professional fireworks.
To get to Greenwood, Lewis had to haul 300 pounds of fireworks for a show that would barely last 5 minutes. When darkness fell, he began his display as planned. The sky then lit up with several different colors, and the air sizzled and cracked.
“Sensational,” said Kamron Daniels, another of the organizers, moments after the show’s conclusion. When asked if they would do it all over again, he answered, “Without a doubt.”
Lewis is primarily a sculptor who takes industrial materials, mainly concrete and steel or wood and rebar. Then he casts, fabricates, carves, or forges them. For example, his piece “America’s Forgotten,” a 16-foot-tall piece of vertical concrete with several pieces of steel shaped like a chain, stands on the campus of the University of Memphis – the place where Lewis earned his degree in Fine Arts.
Lewis compares his works to African American history in America. To him, their smooth surfaces remind him of all the events and stories that have washed away.
Lewis started his career in pyrotechnics when he went to Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in the summer of 2018, a very old, storied, and selective school. When he was conducting research, he found out that there is little visual difference between the flames that come from a firework or a burning car. “One’s socially acceptable,” he says, “the other’s not.”
To prove that it was true, Lewis lit his first firework. “It was thrilling,” Sarah Workneh, the co-director of Skowhegan recalled. “Everybody was pretty excited that it happened and that it could happen here. The audience was excited by the event itself, by being shown what is possible.”
After this experience, he began working part-time with a large pyrotechnics company to get on-the-job training and eventually earn his display operator’s license. Along with the display operator’s license, he also pursued several other licenses, such as a federal Alcohol Tobacco, Firearms type 54 license, and a driver’s license that allows transportation of hazardous materials. Combined, the licenses allow him to transport, purchase and shoot professional fireworks.
To get to Greenwood, Lewis had to haul 300 pounds of fireworks for a show that would barely last 5 minutes. When darkness fell, he began his display as planned. The sky then lit up with several different colors, and the air sizzled and cracked.
“Sensational,” said Kamron Daniels, another of the organizers, moments after the show’s conclusion. When asked if they would do it all over again, he answered, “Without a doubt.”
