Illuminated Verses
George Elliott Clarke, poems — Ricardo Scipio, photographs.
First published in Toronto, 2005.
In 2005, George Elliott Clarke and Ricardo Scipio made a book together in honour of Black women. Clarke, winner of the Governor General’s Literary Award in 2001 for Execution Poems, wrote the poems. Scipio made the photographs. Published in Toronto, Illuminated Verses runs to 74 pages of poetry and photography in conversation.
In the foreword, Scipio looks back on a formative decade of fashion photography in New York and Toronto. The pages that follow are given to Black women, seen with dignity and honoured in verse. The book was launched at the Vancouver Public Library in 2005. Reviewing it, the Coast Reporter ran the headline: “Illuminated Verses shows respect for black women.”
Ricardo Scipio has worked for forty years as an independent photographer and filmmaker. Illuminated Verses marked its twentieth anniversary in 2025 and now enters its third decade in print. Twenty years on, that respect is still on every page.
Thou hast given colour to the world.” — Marcus Garvey
Every human being who has walked this Earth has a Black mother. She is the original woman, the channel, the source.
I was fortunate enough to have grown up surrounded by Black women in my native island of Trinidad and in the Caribbean enclaves in Scarborough, Ontario, in the 70s and 80s. From a time before I can remember, I have had my breath taken away by the staggering beauty, nobility, and power of our Black women, starting with my own wonderful mother.
For a decade, beginning in 1986, I worked as a fashion photographer in Toronto, New York, and Miami. It pained me constantly to witness how little respect the mainstream media has for natural Black beauty. I was allowed so few times to photograph Black women in a context of respect and sensitivity that I decided to quit the fashion industry forever and become an art photographer, to create images of natural beauty.
In my mind right now, I am back at church, at 10 years old, watching one of the women beating her chest while wailing out loud for the Lord to give her strength. Her tears and sweat have already soaked her homemade dress. While I stare at her transfixed, she raises her big arms up to heaven in triumph. She is beatific. After nine years and 14 gallery shows of my Black nudes, I know that, if I could only capture a fraction of that woman’s beauty, my life’s work as a photographer would be accomplished.