Written by: Tabb Carneal

 As Werner Herzog once noted in an interview, “It has been forever clear to me that journalists who rely on tape recorders inevitably get the story wrong, but those who sit, listen carefully, writing down the odd word, taking in the bigger picture, have a better chance of getting the story right.” I was reminded of this quotation when I sat in the grand hall of The Harvard Art Museum and, as the music began to play, the lights dimming and flickering across the hall’s marble columns, I opted for some wine with my meal. 

I was attending the penultimate night of “No Label Academy,” a nine-day music industry seminar at Harvard University for the up-and-comers of the hip-hop genre. This was the event’s second iteration, bolstered by a notable list of rappers and sponsorships, including IDK, Nike, Jordan, Converse and Dior.

The event had a grandiose, serious air to it, and I was reminded by representatives from the museum that I could only take photographs of the event, not of the art pieces that adorned their hallways. I barely knew how the borrowed Nikon that hung heavily from my neck operated and nodded, agreeing that this wouldn’t be an issue. 

“No Label Academy” focuses on providing creative and business-orientated literacy to a graduating class of twenty-two rising performers, producers, videographers and lyricists. Hypothetically, the program would not just instill lessons like handling your finances, working with labels, honing your creative vision, and bolstering mental health but also provide a spotlight on individuals who, previously, may not have had a larger platform. Not only that, the program would introduce their class to various influential artists within the industry, boasting lectures from IDK, Joey Badass, Benny The Butcher, 24K Golden, and Mannywellz, to name a few. Plus, the food they served at the banquet was top-notch, which I noted. 

As I continued to shake hands and politely indulge the jerk chicken and pinot grigio, the lights dimmed further, and the banquet’s ceremony procession began. Each member of the class had their name announced as they sauntered towards the podium at the center of the hall, not unlike a regular graduation. However, each class member seemed to bring a different piece of flair, a flashed smile or pose, as they accepted their graduation certificate along with a bulbous red rose. The laid-back music reverberated around the great hall, and I wondered if this was the first time MAVI had been played in the Harvard Art Museum. 

Of the graduating class, I was previously aware of two artists who go by Zahir and Kei. Both had been turning heads before this event, Kei as the hyper home-town hero in Boston’s hip-hop scene and Zahir as a polished music video director and lyricist with production chops. Both artists were decked from head to toe in Harvard x Dior uniforms (as was the case with the entire class), and while watching them accept their graduation gifts, I figured it was time to talk shop with the class. 

Following the ceremony, I caught up with Zahir to ask him a few questions about the event, beginning with his thoughts on the immensely influential Virgil Abloh, a former No Label Academy speaker:

“[Virgil] graduated with a degree in Civil Engineering and showed us that you can balance an engineering path with a creative side as well. My whole life I’ve been an engineer, which I carried with me for my first two years of college. In a sense, he was my north star, showing me the power of being multifaceted and having those different interests intersect.”

Zahir went on to say that “having an engineering background has influenced me in a number of ways, including how I dress. Lots of friends say that the textures, the fabrics, the blocking reminds them of an engineer’s brain. And plus engineering is essentially about solving problems. In directing, when you’re putting together a shot, there’s always at least one problem, which I feel more prepared to overcome due to my engineering experience.”

As Zahir and I continued chatting about They Cloned Tyrone, plates were being taken away from the banquet tables, the music’s volume was lowered, and it became very clear to me that events were in motion. Checking my iPhone 7 (flex), an unidentified address popped up, and I began making my way to the afters. 

Most colleges have their fair share of lore, of collegiate shenanigans and exclusive clubs, archaic statues, and historied drinking dens. However, I am happy to report that Harvard’s felt especially amplified on a Friday night in Cambridge (with a full moon no less). I quickly found myself scaling the stairs of one of their older social clubs, admiring the decor of their presidential alumni and celebrity guests of honor. At the top, a massive attic sprawled before me as Bia, another Boston native, began her set. Surrounding her DJ’s table, a large collection of the graduating class, musicians, and industry people cut loose, dancing to her unsparing beats. Soaking it all in, I figured that an event like this took gumption to assemble, shaking the right hands and greasing the right wheels, which is worth celebrating in and of itself.