Photographer: Chance Nkosi Gomez
Design: Chance Nkosi Gomez
Publisher: Self-Published
Year: November 2018
Binding: Hardcover
Pages: 56 / Proline Pearl Photographic Paper
Size: 13x11 in, 33x28 cm
Language: English
Edition: Series III

Birds Singing Lies by Nkosi Gomez is a concept-driven photographic book that operates as both a visual anthology and a philosophical inquiry into the instability of truth.

At its core is a clearly stated premise: truth is not fixed—it “fluctuates,” is both “broadcasted and hidden,” and ultimately “varies.” This idea frames the entire project, giving the images a conceptual anchor that is more explicit than in Gomez’s later work. The title itself suggests contradiction: something typically associated with purity and natural harmony (birds singing) is recast as deceptive, implying that even what feels instinctively true may be unreliable.

Structurally, the book is divided into multiple “concepts” (thirteen in total), each functioning like an independent visual study. Rather than building a single continuous narrative, Gomez presents a series of distinct yet thematically linked explorations. Each concept features different collaborators, subjects, and environments, giving the work a modular quality—almost like chapters in a larger investigation.

Visually, the book is more expansive and experimental than his later, more refined projects. There’s a noticeable range in approach:

• Some images lean toward stylized portraiture or fashion,

• Others feel performative or installation-based,

• and many experiment with how the body interacts with space—obscured, fragmented, or recontextualized.

These variations reflect an artist actively testing ideas. The human figure is central but rarely presented straightforwardly; instead, it becomes a site of ambiguity, where identity, gesture, and meaning are constantly shifting.

The introduction emphasizes Gomez’s personal trajectory—from St. Lucia to Miami—and positions the work within a tension between nature and society. Nature is described as “pure,” while society introduces contradiction, reinforcing the book’s central concern with conflicting truths. This biographical context adds another layer: the images can be read not just as abstract concepts, but as reflections on lived experience and cultural transition.

Unlike his later books, which rely almost entirely on visual ambiguity, Birds Singing Lies is more direct in its intellectual framing. The inclusion of text, credits, and structured sections makes the project feel more like a curated portfolio of ideas than a single, continuous visual composition.

Emotionally, the work carries a sense of inquiry and openness. It doesn’t resolve its questions; instead, it multiplies them. Each concept proposes a different way of seeing, suggesting that truth is not something to be found, but something constantly constructed and reinterpreted.

Overall, Birds Singing Lies stands as an early, foundational work in Gomez’s practice—one where his key themes (perception, contradiction, the body, and environment) are introduced in a broad, exploratory way. It’s less about refinement and more about scope: a project that maps the territory he would later navigate with greater restraint and cohesion.