‘Ministers of Sound’ Photography Exhibit Showcases Atlanta’s DJ Culture

DJ Rasta Root

Leave it to a preacher’s kid to find the similarities between a nightclub and a church. According to Atlanta-based spoken word artist and music and cultural events promoter Kemi Bennings, a sanctuary filled with shouting, joy-filled worshippers isn’t much different from a nightspot packed with jumping, dancing partygoers.

The fact that a Sunday service is usually led by an ordained minister is a matter of semantics, because as far as she’s concerned, the way a DJ rocks a party is no different from a pastor inspiring his flock.

“In parallel to a spiritual leader or preacher, DJs are ministers in music … Empowering and inspiring loyal congregations,” Bennings says. “The power they have, the power it exudes can sadden you, and it can lift your mood.”

Bennings’ philosophy holds special significance in Atlanta, a city where nightlife plays a vital economic, social, and cultural role, and where DJs often bypass promoters and traditional nightclubs to create and produce their own highly-trafficked brand of events. Look no further than DJ Kemit’s Spread Love, DJ Stan Zeff’s Tambor, and Salah Ananse’s Sunday School, for starters.

Which brings us to Bennings’ latest project, Ministers of Sound. This one-night photography exhibition, slated to take place at the Sound Table on Feb. 24, is a visual celebration of Atlanta’s DJ culture. The images on display depict more than 30 of Atlanta’s most well-known turntable maestros, including Apple Jac, Cha Cha Jones, Rasta Root, Mafioso, Tabone, Kai Alce, Mike Zarin, and more, posed in a variety of costumes, including monk frocks, pope-style hats, and choir robes, each reflecting the spiritual nature of spinning sounds that keep the dance floor moving.

Bennings says her late father, the Rev. Hardy S. Bennings Jr., who served as the associate pastor at Springfield Baptist Church in Augusta until he passed away in 2008, sparked her original idea for the exhibit. “Through the healing process, after his death, I started to think: If DJs were ministers and the pulpit was the DJ booth, and the playlist was the message, how do you move the crowd?” Bennings asks.

Read more: CreativeLoafing

 

Democracy needs journalism it can trust.

This election season, the stakes are higher than usual — and so is the pressure on newsrooms to soften their coverage, stay quiet, or just disappear. Independent reporting, the kind that answers to readers instead of advertisers or political pressure, matters more in a moment like this, not less.

For over 14 years, Atlanta Black Star has stayed independent and reader-funded. We have no corporate owner and no shareholders telling us what to cover or how to cover it. That independence is also our biggest vulnerability: nothing protects it except readers choosing to fund it directly.

Newspaper ad revenue has fallen more than 80% since 2005, and local newsrooms are closing at a rate of roughly two a week nationwide. When outlets go under in a moment like this, it's rarely the independent, reader-funded ones that get to stick around.

We know a request for support isn't why you came here. But without readers choosing to fund this work directly, the depth of reporting we can do at home and abroad shrinks along with everyone else's. If you're not in a position to give, that doesn't change how much we value you as a reader.

If you are able to, a recurring contribution does more for us than a single one-time gift, because it lets us plan the next investigation instead of just the next invoice. It takes about 30 seconds, no long form, no account. Thank you for continuing to support independent journalism and freedom of the press.

Back to top