INTERVIEW Jun 2025 Benji Reid: Frame by Frame

Harpreet Kaur

Writer and cultural consultant Harpreet Kaur revisits pioneer of Hip Hop theatre and choreo-photolist Benji Reid’s intersectional, cross-genre performance Find Your Eyes (25 – 30 May 2025) at Factory International, first presented three years ago as part of Manchester International Festival. In the following interview, she has the opportunity to meet up with him again and talk to him about the profound humanity and depths of emotion behind his work.

Benji Reid’s Find Your Eyes pushes the boundaries of art – it’s more than that, it’s testimony. A portrait in real time of what it means to be seen.

I first connected with Benji Reid over a decade ago, back when I was living more of a nomadic life –  rooted in the West Midlands but travelling the world for creative projects. Our paths crossed within England’s ever evolving artistic community, and I’ve followed his work since. Years ago, I found myself in his studio, sat under his lens expecting a stylish portrait, but walking away with something much deeper. That image unearthed something in me: my inner child, my darkness, my shadow, and a version of my truest self I hadn’t yet met. That kind of intimacy captured visually but felt in the soul  stayed with me. I’ve carried it through my own spiritual journey of unmasking the self.

Now, twelve years on, I’m based in Manchester,  Benji’s city, and one he has profoundly shaped. Over the four and a half years I’ve lived here, I’ve watched his work shift and evolve. While he began in theatre and dance, and later became renowned for his striking Afro-futurist photography, what he’s doing now feels like an entirely new form,  one that resists categorisation and is unique to him alone. What Benji creates today is not just multidisciplinary – it’s undefinable: a live experience that must be witnessed in real time, where the moment itself becomes the artwork.

That form takes centre stage in Find Your Eyes, a genre-defying performance first presented as part of the 2023 edition of Manchester International Festival (MIF), and which since has toured globally as part of Factory International’s groundbreaking international programme. I first saw Find Your Eyes during that original run, and the impact of it stayed with me. Now, seeing it again after reconnecting with Benji in conversation, the piece hits even deeper, layered not just with memory, but resonance.

Find Your Eyes has become a global success story receiving five-star reviews from The Guardian and The Observer, touring from Amsterdam to Venice, Dublin to New York, and now returning home to Manchester’s Factory International in 2025. It reflects the scale and ambition of Aviva Studio’s international vision, which brings world-class, original work from Manchester to audiences across 35 countries and counting. For readers unfamiliar with MIF: it’s one of the world’s leading arts festivals, entirely focused on commissioning and producing new work. Since 2007, it has premiered groundbreaking projects by artists like Björk, Steve McQueen, Yoko Ono, and The xx. Factory International – the organisation behind MIF – continues this mission year-round through Aviva Studios and its worldwide collaborations, with Find Your Eyes as a powerful example of what that ecosystem can nurture.

Benji calls himself a “choreo-photolist”- a term he coined to describe the fusion of choreography, theatre and photography that he now performs live. In Find Your Eyes, he directs three performers in real time, capturing still photographs in front of an audience while narrating deeply personal stories about addiction, loss, love, survival, that speak to his lived experience as a Black man in the UK today. It is a theatre of part ritual, part portrait session, part memory excavation.

The cast of dancers is exceptional. Watching them move: bend, stretch, hold gravity-defying poses is hypnotic, poetic, precise, and awe-inspiring. The tenderness of Benji’s storytelling, coupled with the physical expressiveness of the performers, was particularly moving and relatable. That kind of honesty is rare on stage. During one duet, the pain etched across the performers’ faces (Slate Hemedi and Pressac) and the contortion of their bodies mirrored something visceral in my own being – my hidden aches, fears, and emotional wounds. A tear rolled down my cheek.

Though Benji’s work speaks directly from the experience of being a Black man, its emotional and political power extends far beyond. As a brown woman living in England, I recognised something painfully familiar in what he shared: the quiet violence of being unseen, misrepresented, or entirely erased. We, the global majority, have grown up shaped by a culture where white Western narratives dominated what was visible, valuable, and human. We’ve internalised that absence, as have those around us.

Watching Find Your Eyes, I felt a deep empathy for Black men, so often denied tenderness, nuance, and vulnerability in public life. I also felt a broader sorrow: for all of us whose bodies have been filtered through the gaze of systems that do not see us whole. Benji’s performance, so honest, so unflinching, challenges that gaze. He takes ownership of his story, his image, and his voice, refusing the narrow scripts assigned to him. In doing so, he not only liberates himself, but invites us to consider how we might do the same. After all the years of work, survival, and healing, here he is: creating something masterful, sharing it, and being celebrated in the moment. The standing ovation was not just for the performance, but for the life behind it.

Watching Find Your Eyes at this moment in my life felt quietly destined. Exactly ten years ago, in May 2015, during a dark and uncertain time, Benji recommended I read Siddhartha. That gentle offering became my first step toward Buddhism, a path I’ve walked ever since.

This year, with a new mentor and community, I’ve found myself circling back to that beginning. To be reconnecting with Benji and his work now feels beautifully full circle. His healing journey is one he shares, not silently or privately, but through creation, and in doing so, he gives others permission to meet themselves more honestly too. That’s the impact of his work. It doesn’t just perform, it transforms. It reminds me, as a writer, that openness can be both a risk and a gift. But when art is made from that place, it has the power to truly reach people.

This is why I believe so deeply in the value of art, not just as performance or aesthetic, but as a spiritual companion, a catalyst, a mirror. Art, when it’s real, when it’s lived, when it’s offered honestly, has the power to move us through thresholds we didn’t even know we were approaching. It’s often misunderstood, undervalued, or forced to justify itself through economics or spectacle. But what Benji creates defies that. His work doesn't just speak to audiences; it sits in them. His guidance, however brief, has helped me make sense of grief, identity, creativity, and even faith. And I can’t help but wonder how many others carry some part of his work quietly within them too;  guiding them, grounding them, reminding them who they are.

Benji connects with his audience not just through craft, but through presence. He takes time to thank the crowd, to really see them, and to let himself be seen. It’s refreshing to witness an artist celebrated while still very much alive, still evolving, still generous.

My own life has been dimmed lately, but this evening helped me find light again. For a little while, I wasn’t in Manchester. I was somewhere else entirely, pulled into another world. I forgot about time. This is what Benji Reid does, through movement, story, image, and presence. He helps us find our eyes again.

Harpreet Kaur (HK): Let’s begin at the beginning. How would you describe your journey as an artist-from theatre and dance to photography and now this hybrid stage work? Has it felt like a natural progression?

Benji Reid (BR): I would say meandering. At one point I had very specific aims about what I wanted to be and how I wanted to develop. But there came a point where I had to let go of the wheel. My career began to guide me, rather than me holding the reins.
The first part of my career was very directed and creative. The latter part has been more instinctual and spiritual. I’ve relied more on my instincts and feelings to guide me.

HK: You describe yourself as a “Choreo-Photolist.” What does that mean to you now, and how did it come about?

BR: It’s about exploring my intersectionality. I come from dance and choreography, but a big part of my career has also been theatre, storytelling, drama.
So I’ve had both in conversation: physical theatre and photography have often intersected with theatre. "Choreo-Photism" is how I describe the coming together of all those forms.

HK: Find Your Eyes feels like a culmination of your creative practice. Where did the idea come from, and what made you feel ready to return to the stage?

BR: I felt ready because the invitation from John McGrath offered me a safe space to return to the theatre. It was his invitation to perform at Manchester International Festival that made it feel right.

HK: The performance carries a lot of emotional weight. How closely are your personal evolution and life experiences woven into this work?

BR: It's intrinsic. Because the work is autobiographical, everything in my life informs it.
When I start making something, it has to be because I have something to say. I draw from personal stories and find something universal in them. I need a safe space to be vulnerable, and making work with the right people can create that.

HK: There’s a sense of vulnerability in this work-grief, struggle, joy, love. What was it like to bring those elements into a live performance context?

BR: Once the work starts to live on stage, I gain a level of detachment. But what’s going to be really interesting is that my mum and sisters are coming to see the show. It’s made the text feel particularly more pronounced – because I talk about suicide attempts, alcoholism, my mum’s stroke.
There’s definitely some trepidation about how she’ll take it, especially knowing she’s in a vulnerable state. I’m quite a private person, so being this open can be difficult. But that’s always been the nature of my work.

HK: How much of Find Your Eyes is choreographed and how much is organic? Does each performance become its own?

BR: There are nuances night to night, depending on how the performers and I feel. But the performance is heavily structured. There’s a robustness to it.
The freedom comes within the structure. That’s what keeps it alive – there’s room to play each night.

HK: When you're performing this work, what do you hope the audience feels or reflects on?

BR: Empathy. I want people to feel seen – especially Black bodies, people of colour.
The aim is to create a space where empathy can flourish.

HK: Your portraiture has captured people in deeply human ways. What draws you to photograph someone, and what are you trying to reveal?

BR: I’m drawn to people with stories and a willingness to tell them. People who are complex, but also open to exploring that complexity in front of the camera.
It’s not just about how someone looks – it’s about what they’ve lived through and what they’re open to sharing.

HK: Is there a project you’re most proud of?

BR: “Holding on to Daddy” with Luna. [Luna is one of Benji’s daughters] It won the 2020 Wellcome Prize for Mental Health. It was the first time I’d been recognised for my photography.
And this current piece – Find Your Eyes – feels like a new adventure. It’s taken bravery, and a beautiful group of artists to bring it to life. It’s special.

HK: Do you see the creative process and final result as equally important?

BR: Absolutely. The show is part of the process – it’s the invitation to let people in. But the rehearsal space, the problem-solving, the reflection – that’s where I find joy. The process is why this piece is the way it is.

HK: Has your practice helped you through difficult times?

BR: Yes. My art lets me redirect, sharpen, pour out. It acts like alchemy. I can start from despair and create something healing.
Sometimes I can’t find the words, but I can find the movement, the image. Creativity has always helped me explore and process pain.

HK: Whose work inspires or influences you right now?

BR: Gordon Parks. Children of Zeus. Sampa. Nils Frahm. Basquiat-before he blew up. Kendrick Lamar. Björk. Erykah Badu.
All of them bring something powerful and unique. 

HK: You’ve worked internationally but remain rooted in Manchester. What does this city – and the North – mean to you?

BR: We’re proud because we believe something special happens here.
Manchester has always had creativity, but now it’s finding its rhythm. People no longer need to migrate to London to succeed-you can start here.
We’re not second fiddle to anyone. We’re Manchester.

HK: If you hadn’t followed a creative path, what might you have done instead?

BR: Probably an electrician. Or a builder – I love architecture. If I knew how to build, I’d have extended my house by now.
Something practical, still creative.

Learn more about Benji Reid’s practice and process in his conversation with Factory International’s Artistic Director and Chief Executive, John McGrath here:

https://factoryinternational.org/factoryplus/benji-reid-artist-talk/

Check out Benji Reid’s episode of Dream Space podcast, where he creates a meditative, healing space of sunsets and trees populated by souls:

https://factoryinternational.org/factoryplus/dream-space/benji-read-dream-space/

This interview is supported by Factory International