Presented as part of a2, anonymous gallery’s window initiative on Howard Street, Knuckle Crate (rejected Vitra design) by Dozie Kanu will unfold as a three-month public activation. Over the course of the presentation, the single sculpture will be activated through a rotating program - every two weeks a new record will be added to the crate, gradually building a sonic narrative selected by the artist.

The sequence begins with Skies of America (1972) by Ornette Coleman, followed by Pieces of a Man by Gil Scott-Heron, and Nina Simone Sings the Blues by Nina Simone. The program continues with Voodoo by D'Angelo, culminating in the release of SHIRTLIFTERS, a collaborative album by Kanu and Matt Hilvers (and Caleb Laven). Through this gradual accumulation of records, the sculpture becomes an evolving archive linking historical influence with contemporary production.

Knuckle Crate (rejected Vitra design) questions who has the authority to define cultural symbols. When Kanu first proposed the design to the Swiss furniture company Vitra, it was rejected because its brass knuckle emblem was considered “too bold” for their clientele. For Kanu, however, the symbol was central to the work. Often associated with self-defense and confrontation, the brass knuckle becomes a metaphor for resilience and cultural autonomy. Cultural theorist Stuart Hall described such imagery as “sites of resistance,” - spaces where symbols can be reclaimed and redefined. In Knuckle Crate, Kanu repurposes this stigmatized emblem as a vessel for Black stories and lived experience.

Sculptural and functional, the work is designed to hold vinyl records. This everyday utility echoes Michel de Certeau’s notion of “the practice of everyday life,” in which ordinary objects carry fragments of personal and collective history. The crate becomes a container not only for records, but for the voices and cultural memory embedded within them.

Kanu’s decision to produce the work despite its rejection reflects bell hooks’ concept of “reclamation and radical presence,” - which argued that Black creators must assert control over their representation and resist the pressure to soften or dilute their work to fit expectations. By insisting on the original design, Kanu rejects the notion that symbols must be sanitized to gain acceptance.

The work instead resonates with Hortense Spillers’ idea of “cultural heritage as a site of memory,” and positions the crate as a container for shared histories. Knuckle Crate reflects Kanu’s ongoing practice of reimagining industrial materials and forms as carriers of memory and identity. The work ultimately asks viewers to consider which cultural histories are preserved, who is responsible for safeguarding them, and how objects can serve as repositories for collective experience. Part sculpture, part archive, Kanu’s work stands as a testament to the power of maintaining authorship over one’s narrative, and the importance of protecting the cultural evidence that shapes it