Spread the Love

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Bryant Anthony

Bryant Anthony wears his heart on his sleeve.

His work creates spaces for openness and vulnerability — something, Bryant says, we need more than ever in this time and place.

But it wasn’t always easy for Bryant to be open. He grew up on the east side of Cleveland. That environment forced him to wear a mask because “it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows.”

“I’ve just seen a lot,” Bryant says. “It made me aggressive. Angry. They say you’re a product of your environment. Sometimes, that can be true. I did a lot of street art and graffiti art. I didn’t see anything wrong with it because that’s what I saw growing up. That was art. The streets were my gallery.”

“I did a lot of street art and graffiti art. I didn’t see anything wrong with it because that’s what I saw growing up. That was art. The streets were my gallery.” 

Bryant has created art for as long as he can remember. He went from drawing paper soldiers as a child to graffiti as a young teen. At 14 years old, he got his first job at an airbrush shop.

“I actually got into airbrushing because I got into trouble. The police officer was like, ‘Man, you’re talented. You’re a really talented kid,’” Bryant says. “He knew a family friend that airbrushed.”

Throughout high school, Bryant continued to hone his craft. He started by airbrushing t-shirts, but soon found himself airbrushing shoes, cars and motorcycles. He moved to Columbus to study at the Columbus College of Art and Design, where he is close to completing his illustration degree.

Bryant says that Columbus didn’t welcome him with open arms. At least at first.

“Galleries here have said my work was too ‘street’ or ‘too urban.’ I’ve heard that a lot,” Bryant says. “Unfortunately, I had to leave Ohio to get recognition. I have more exposure in the Miami and L.A. areas than anything. The feedback I get from them is two times more than what I get from Ohio.”

“Galleries have said my work was too ‘street’ or ‘too urban.’ I’ve heard that a lot. Unfortunately, I had to leave Ohio to get recognition.”

Now that Bryant has national recognition, Columbus has slowly warmed up to his style. But there’s still a long road ahead.

Through all of his challenges, Bryant recognized a theme: People across Ohio and the world are hungry for love and acceptance. This idea became the impetus for his current campaign — Spread More Love.

“Spread More Love is about giving the people their hearts back,” Bryant says. “At the very foundation of love is to be kind and respectful toward one another. I think we’re all supposedly taught that as a child. ‘Treat others the way you want to be treated.’ It has nothing to do, necessarily, with loving a partner or a spouse or marriage or anything like that. It has to do with the base of human interaction. Be kind to one another. If you need a hug, give a hug.”

“It has nothing to do, necessarily, with loving a partner or a spouse or marriage or anything like that. It has to do with the base of human interaction. Be kind to one another. If you need a hug, give a hug.”

Sometimes Bryant receives pushback against his campaign. People ask him, ‘Why are you, a grown man, painting red and pink hearts?’

The cure for that resistance is dialogue. Once Bryant explains his motivation behind the campaign and the struggles he’s overcome from growing up in Cleveland, he can melt hearts.

“The toughest guys conform at that very moment,” Bryant says. “It’s not that they’re putting on a facade, but so many people are told, ‘Be tough, be strong,’ you know? Especially with men. I feel like we have to live up to that stigma.”

Bryant says his work has the power to pull people out of their shells. It’s a space where it’s not only acceptable to be vulnerable, it’s encouraged.

Spread More Love fit like a glove with the goals of the Harlem Renaissance celebration in Columbus.

“I realized that people of the Harlem Renaissance did it for themselves and nobody else,” Bryant says. “They showed each other love because they couldn’t get love from the outside world.”

“I realized that people of the Harlem Renaissance did it for themselves and nobody else. They showed each other love because they couldn’t get love from the outside world.”

One of his latest projects, a mural called ‘Spread More Love,’ is at 1033 N. High St. It will be featured at the upcoming Harlem Renaissance Gallery Hop.

Bryant hopes that this piece makes people pause, take a picture and Spread More Love.

“Show some love. Spread More Love. Because, right now, we’re in a crazy time and a crazy place. I feel like everybody needs to show more love and receive more love.”

Bryant’s Work

Listening to Life

By Hailey Stangebye

Photos by Kenny Williams

KMB can hear an entire album in the cozy corners of a silent room.

Between the fibers of a worn carpet and a shelf of books he can trace melodies and beats. It’s not the result of years of musical theory training. For KMB, connecting one chord to another is as spontaneous as breath.

“I’ve made songs where I just hear a bird, and then I take that idea and make an entire song out of it,” KMB says. “Sometimes silence is inspirational. If you really listen and adapt to a space, a feeling, a mood, then you can do anything.”

“Sometimes silence is inspirational. If you really listen and adapt to a space, a feeling, a mood, then you can do anything.”

KMB drifted toward music from the time he was a child. At the age of 3, he would sit with his brother and play a computer game where they could create their own, unique beats.

“I didn’t even realize what I was doing. It was just fun,” KMB says. “My brother would make slower songs and my songs were the max bpm that you could go to — 120. I don’t know why. I just loved making fast songs. I still have a bunch of songs from that program.”

KMB continued to play that game until his creativity outgrew the program’s capacity. At 8 years old, KMB became frustrated with the games limitations. He couldn’t create the beats that he heard in his head. The software was too simple.

One day, KMB came home and found his dad installing a new program on their family computer.

“I gravitated toward my dad, so anytime he was doing something I’d always be on my knees next to him watching,” KMB says.

His dad explained that the program, an audio software called FL, was a gift from a coworker.

“He opens it up and I look at it and I’m like, ‘What do I do?’ It was just a bunch of buttons. I didn’t know what it was,” KMB says. “And he was like, ‘Just play around with it. I’m about to go to the grocery store. I’ll be right back.’ And then, when he came back, I had my first beat ready. Ever since then, I just haven’t been the same.”

“And he was like, ‘Just play around with it. I’m about to go to the grocery store. I’ll be right back.’ And then, when he came back, I had my first beat ready. Ever since then, I just haven’t been the same.”

In those early days, KMB would make three — sometimes five — songs in a single day. Nowadays, inspiration can be a little more fickle and tricky to grasp. KMB says that it’s easy to get swept up in what’s trending and making money.

When he focuses on immediate popularity, it’s a recipe for writer’s block.

“I came to the realization that I should go back to how I started,” KMB says. “If people love it, cool. If they don’t, that’s okay. When I started it was fun and it was fun to do. Once I realized that, everything just started to flow. People started to say that I have my own sound and this and that. The love started to come after that.”

KMB knows that his music is on the right track when he sees and talks to his fans. Sometimes, he can make a connection with a listener through music that he couldn’t have made through conversation. Music transcends language and space barriers.

He’ll never forget a message he received from a fan in Portugal.

“He was thinking about killing himself and listening to my music made him change his mind. At that point, I was shook up,” KMB says. “I told him that I was grateful for him. That he deserves to be here. Just trying to uplift him and pretty much thank him for even listening. He told me that he was eternally grateful for me making music and I almost cried. I didn’t know how to feel.”

“I told him that I was grateful for him. That he deserves to be here. Just trying to uplift him and pretty much thank him for even listening. He told me that he was eternally grateful for me making music and I almost cried.”

KMB brings that deep sense of gratitude to everything he creates. He says that he will always be happy, he will always be grateful and he will never take what he does for granted. KMB will always make music.

KMB’s Work