Actors Photos Actor Regé-Jean Page HD Photos and Wallpapers November 2020 By GethuCinema Admin November 2, 2020 Related Posts Regé-Jean Page Top 100 Instagram Photos and Posts 1. 2.1 Million Likes Download Photo Regé-Jean Page InstagramCaption : The... Actor Regé-Jean Page HD Photos and Wallpapers February 2024 Actor Regé-Jean Page HD Photos and Wallpapers February 2024 Actor Regé-Jean Page HD Photos and Wallpapers April 2023 Actor Regé-Jean Page HD Photos and Wallpapers March 2023 Actor Regé-Jean Page HD Photos and Wallpapers October 2022 Share This Post FacebookTwitterPinterestWhatsAppReddItTelegram The 👑and I . . . #Bridgerton represent 🎩🐝❤️ #Netflix #Shondaland @alfreddunhill #dunhillBAFTA December 25th ✨🎄✨🎩🤎 #BridgertonNetflix . @bridgertonnetflix @netflix @strongblacklead @shondaland Gracious 👑s who’ve not yet been served, . I am proud to present #MySimon . THE DUKE x . #BridgertonIsComing And we will be spectacular . . @bridgertonnetflix @shondaland @netflix December 25th ✨🎄✨🎩✨🤎 #BridgertonNetflix . @bridgertonnetflix @netflix @shondaland @strongblacklead December 25th ✨🎄✨🎩✨🤎 #BridgertonNetflix . @bridgertonnetflix @netflix @shondaland @strongblacklead The History Boys. . . . @iammalachikirby @instajamwest @alfreddunhill #dunhillBAFTA “Yes, you.” @bridgertonnetflix #bridgertonnetflix #shondaland #netflix (2/3) A month before the death of George Floyd, I was in London and I reached out to an old colleague, Lanre Malaolu suggesting we finally got round to connecting in the way we’d put off for years and collaborate while I was grounded on a rare trip back in the UK. I had just finished this complicated sort of anthemic lullaby about love, legacy, loss – and how men particularly, deal with such vulnerabilities – with my brother (together we go by the musical pseudonym ‘TUNYA’). Lanre’s recent work exploring tenderness within Black masculinity seemed a perfect, unexpected, and exciting match to explore the themes of the music visually. By the time of filming in August, the world had been brought to a screaming halt by the rawest, largest, and most powerful display of Black community, pain and activism since the Civil Rights movement of the 60s. A palpable sense of communal grief had dominated every conversation, on a global scale, magnified and brought to boil by the losses and fear of a world brought to its knees by COVID-19. John Lewis had died. Colston was dumped in the sea, and confederate monuments were armed battle grounds – defended by white militias and conquered by Black ballerinas. Chadwick Boseman died. I missed my dad. A world full of uncertainty lacked leadership and compassion, and each new week brought new, unresolvable heartbreak. The core team involved in the film had been privately trying to learn how to be grieving, vulnerable, Black and publicly on display for months, and the piece grew to reflect that. The responsibility as artists to share what light and answers we’d found and contribute that back into a community fractured and isolated by social distance, thrust not only a sense of purpose on the project, but a guiding momentum. It could now only be this. 📸 @helenmurraypix When there’s work to do, we look at ourselves, we look to each other, and we step up. . . . It’s been a rare joy to be able to re-connect with my community back in the UK at a time when we’re all so isolated. Were it that we could re-unite in easier times. When we needed connection more than ever, my friends and family stepped up and we’ve been pulling together to bring what we have to bridge the gaps and hold each other up – art’s not much, but it’s what we got. . . . The amazing @lanremalaolu and I are making a very personal thing together and I’m both over-joyed and terrified. More on that tomorrow. . . 📸 @helenmurraypix (1/3) My father came to me in a dream in New York City one day. I was walking down a busy street at the time, so it was something of an inconvenience; but I hadn’t seen him in years, so I kept calm and carried on. I kept the rhythm of my steps, and I continued to avoid the fast moving obstacles of people and traffic. I began to hum to myself. It’s a thing I do to manage stress, or distress – which is an odd thing to identify upon re-uniting with your own dad, but it was present none the less – we hadn’t seen each other in over 15 years, and this was a waking dream after all. I hum to myself in the dentist’s chair when they get the drill out. Or anything else that buzzes menacingly, but they told me they don’t mind, and I think they and the assistants are quite amused by it. It beats screams. Though he did not buzz menacingly, I hummed to my father, there on 2nd Avenue, and he hummed back. He kind of resonated. Words rang out with great eloquence, but the consonants never formed. The words simply vibrated, and I tried to find harmony with them. Sometimes perfect 5ths, sometimes clashing 7ths and 4ths – sometimes in a uniform lockstep beat, in time with my heart or the steady pulse of unrelenting Empire State footsteps – ever forward and constant; other times in challenging cross rhythms and alternate timings that teeter on the brink of chaos, the very edge of loosing all apparent form before suddenly completing their cycle and resolving again into a perfect fractal image. In this way, we talked. I couldn’t tell you exactly what he said, and I wouldn’t, it was a private conversation after all – but he left me with a song. **** Soon after, a close friend, Jack Brown, had just gotten married, and text me a series of tender chords he’d strummed out on his honeymoon (he apologized for his playing in the voice note, explaining that he was unaccustomed to the ring on his finger, and it was making him stumble over the frets. I thought that was just about the most adorable thing I’d ever heard.) He wondered if I could do something unexpected with them. I kept humming around the streets of New York. ****** 📸 @zacharyfall We’ve been invited to exhibit this as part of The Battersea Arts Centre’s Autumn season: ‘Make/Love’. I’ve never been part of an exhibition before. Never really thought I would. But art eh? . . . I’d planned to write something uplifting about community and the redeeming nature of seeking love to announce the piece, but this whole last week… it’s been tricky to find those words. I’m thankful to be in the business of making images that are more eloquent. And very proud of this one. . . . This last week – this last summer, this last century… the ‘exhibition’ of Black pain and grief has been harnessed and exploited on our streets and TV screens, but it’s a stolen and uncommissioned exhibit. It’s a collection of disrespected and goaded pictures. Callously distorted. Last week, when that drywall finally got justice and Breonna did not, Reuters headlined a video of Black folks literally hugging and crying in the streets as “Tempers Flare in Louisville”. This week the ‘solution’ to ‘race’ – to people like me existing and hurting – is yelling ’law and order’. Pointing more guns, putting more people in shackles. I genuinely can’t imagine how you’re meant to survive the amount of self policing necessary to live in a society that sees you through that lens with your humanity intact. But my job is to assure you, we do. . . . Lanre and I made a film this summer, reporting through our own very personal lens, how we seek the light when it seems darkest. How in those moments when there seems no safe harbour for tenderness and grief, it is possible to find the strength to dance and love and celebrate your own life. How there is not weakness, but indeed immense strength to be found in retaining the freedom to do that. And how there is world shaking power in finding the purpose to use it. . . . Lots of my friends, family and favourite people came together for no reason other than to share their light on this one, and we’ll be glad to hold up what we made with it all come November – when we’ll need to hold each other’s hearts and fists equally high, and when it will indeed be darkest; right before… . . . 📸 @helenmurraypix #MakeLove2020 #DontWaitFilm We’ve been invited to exhibit this as part of The Battersea Arts Centre’s Autumn season: ‘Make/Love’. I’ve never been part of an exhibition before. Never really thought I would. But art eh? . . . I’d planned to write something uplifting about community and the redeeming nature of seeking love to announce the piece, but this whole last week… it’s been tricky to find those words. I’m thankful to be in the business of making images that are more eloquent. And very proud of this one. . . . This last week – this last summer, this last century… the ‘exhibition’ of Black pain and grief has been harnessed and exploited on our streets and TV screens, but it’s a stolen and uncommissioned exhibit. It’s a collection of disrespected and goaded pictures. Callously distorted. Last week, when that drywall finally got justice and Breonna did not, Reuters headlined a video of Black folks literally hugging and crying in the streets as “Tempers Flare in Louisville”. This week the ‘solution’ to ‘race’ – to people like me existing and hurting – is yelling ’law and order’. Pointing more guns, putting more people in shackles. I genuinely can’t imagine how you’re meant to survive the amount of self policing necessary to live in a society that sees you through that lens with your humanity intact. But my job is to assure you, we do. . . . Lanre and I made a film this summer, reporting through our own very personal lens, how we seek the light when it seems darkest. How in those moments when there seems no safe harbour for tenderness and grief, it is possible to find the strength to dance and love and celebrate your own life. How there is not weakness, but indeed immense strength to be found in retaining the freedom to do that. And how there is world shaking power in finding the purpose to use it. . . . Lots of my friends, family and favourite people came together for no reason other than to share their light on this one, and we’ll be glad to hold up what we made with it all come November – when we’ll need to hold each other’s hearts and fists equally high, and when it will indeed be darkest; right before… . . . 📸 @helenmurraypix #MakeLove2020 #DontWaitFilm (3/3) Joshua Nash is an extraordinarily sensitive performer, and his unique blend of abrasive power and overwhelming vulnerability guides the piece through a physical embodiment of his own personal journey through a universal grief. The battle for control and suppression, the desire to tidy away a past too painful to confront, and the ultimate realisation that the only escape from the trappings of an eternal fight – is to allow oneself to feel it. To accept the pain of past battles, honour it, and through that knowledge, gain the peace necessary to thrive and progress beyond it. To a world seemingly divided into two camps, both struggling to address a painful history, a cancerous personal and public legacy, I hope the piece’s foreword (unpublished in the end, written late one night between rehearsals, trying to pin down our direction) offers a guiding light toward its redemptive resolution: “Those who fell before you fought, For you Not to be bound in mourning But to free your life’s celebration” In the end, like them all, Don’t Wait is simply a love song. It is about finding the path through life’s necessary, good trouble, to life’s intrinsic celebration. More love, always R x (You can watch the film online @batterseaartscentre website : BAC.org.uk/dont-wait Nov 1st – 3rd 2020) Link in bio. 📸 @helenmurraypix make things to make people stronger make things to make people stronger 💜 And that was the end… of Chapter 1. #Bridgerton 🐝🎩💫 . . . #Shondaland #Netflix DONT WAIT is free to watch on the BAC website as of NOW! Nov 1st -3rd It’s an intensely personal project about love in the face of despair. It’s a tender hurting sort of piece for a strange time, and I’m very proud of it and all the people who came together to make it. Link to film in bio x Gif by @helenmurraypix 📸 #savethearts Provide a fuller picture of the world. Moving portraits and documents; the arts to me are an intimate, human window into each other. People and places we never knew, people and places we need to know better. Who we’ve been, and who we could yet be. The arts are hope. DON’T WAIT . @tunyamusic x @lanremalaolu . Online 1st – 3rd Nov 2020 @batterseaartscentre . BAC.org.uk/dont-wait 💥 We’ve been invited to exhibit this as part of The Battersea Arts Centre’s Autumn season: ‘Make/Love’. I’ve never been part of an exhibition before. Never really thought I would. But art eh? . . . I’d planned to write something uplifting about community and the redeeming nature of seeking love to announce the piece, but this whole last week… it’s been tricky to find those words. I’m thankful to be in the business of making images that are more eloquent. And very proud of this one. . . . This last week – this last summer, this last century… the ‘exhibition’ of Black pain and grief has been harnessed and exploited on our streets and TV screens, but it’s a stolen and uncommissioned exhibit. It’s a collection of disrespected and goaded pictures. Callously distorted. Last week, when that drywall finally got justice and Breonna did not, Reuters headlined a video of Black folks literally hugging and crying in the streets as “Tempers Flare in Louisville”. This week the ‘solution’ to ‘race’ – to people like me existing and hurting – is yelling ’law and order’. Pointing more guns, putting more people in shackles. I genuinely can’t imagine how you’re meant to survive the amount of self policing necessary to live in a society that sees you through that lens with your humanity intact. But my job is to assure you, we do. . . . Lanre and I made a film this summer, reporting through our own very personal lens, how we seek the light when it seems darkest. How in those moments when there seems no safe harbour for tenderness and grief, it is possible to find the strength to dance and love and celebrate your own life. How there is not weakness, but indeed immense strength to be found in retaining the freedom to do that. And how there is world shaking power in finding the purpose to use it. . . . Lots of my friends, family and favourite people came together for no reason other than to share their light on this one, and we’ll be glad to hold up what we made with it all come November – when we’ll need to hold each other’s hearts and fists equally high, and when it will indeed be darkest; right before… . . . 📸 @helenmurraypix #MakeLove2020 #DontWaitFilm We’ve been invited to exhibit this as part of The Battersea Arts Centre’s Autumn season: ‘Make/Love’. I’ve never been part of an exhibition before. Never really thought I would. But art eh? . . . I’d planned to write something uplifting about community and the redeeming nature of seeking love to announce the piece, but this whole last week… it’s been tricky to find those words. I’m thankful to be in the business of making images that are more eloquent. And very proud of this one. . . . This last week – this last summer, this last century… the ‘exhibition’ of Black pain and grief has been harnessed and exploited on our streets and TV screens, but it’s a stolen and uncommissioned exhibit. It’s a collection of disrespected and goaded pictures. Callously distorted. Last week, when that drywall finally got justice and Breonna did not, Reuters headlined a video of Black folks literally hugging and crying in the streets as “Tempers Flare in Louisville”. This week the ‘solution’ to ‘race’ – to people like me existing and hurting – is yelling ’law and order’. Pointing more guns, putting more people in shackles. I genuinely can’t imagine how you’re meant to survive the amount of self policing necessary to live in a society that sees you through that lens with your humanity intact. But my job is to assure you, we do. . . . Lanre and I made a film this summer, reporting through our own very personal lens, how we seek the light when it seems darkest. How in those moments when there seems no safe harbour for tenderness and grief, it is possible to find the strength to dance and love and celebrate your own life. How there is not weakness, but indeed immense strength to be found in retaining the freedom to do that. And how there is world shaking power in finding the purpose to use it. . . . Lots of my friends, family and favourite people came together for no reason other than to share their light on this one, and we’ll be glad to hold up what we made with it all come November – when we’ll need to hold each other’s hearts and fists equally high, and when it will indeed be darkest; right before… . . . 📸 @helenmurraypix #MakeLove2020 #DontWaitFilm A little shop talk. “Cast the beam out of thine own eye…” A little shop talk. “Cast the beam out of thine own eye…” TagsRegé-Jean Page Previous articleActress Vidya Balan Instagram Photos and Posts November 2020Next articleActress Poonam Kaur HD Photos and Wallpapers November 2020