Atop the overpass by the intersection of South Boston Avenue and East First Street in Tulsa, Oklahoma, 29-year-old Madame Zeroni is embraced by the blowing wind in their hair. They stood in the so-called “Center of the Universe,” a location in downtown Tulsa marked with a small concrete circle in the middle of a larger circle of bricks, small lights illuminating the center.
“There's a pathway that leads directly into the middle [of the “Center of the Universe”] and the closer you get to it, the more the sound echoes. It kind of sounds like you're in a room,” Zeroni said.
Taking a deep breath, they slowly began their song, and the overpass acted as center stage, amplifying the echo of their voice in the concealed acoustic cavity in the ground.
Madame Zeroni is an artist, filmmaker and musician. Their legal name is Tomisha Riddle, but prefer to go by their stage name, which they chose after seeing the 2003 movie Holes. It was Eartha Kitt’s performance as Madame Zeroni in the movie as well as her music that motivated them to pursue a passion for filmmaking and music.
Zeroni, Chickasaw, Muscogee and a citizen of the Choctaw Nation, grew up in a family of musicians and developed a love for music early on. They spent their childhood moving around southeastern Oklahoma.
“I remember being two, and then waking up and having to leave, or suddenly sleeping in the car because we're homeless now. I think we were homeless twice. And so, there were lots of times where we had to stay up [and not rest],” Zeroni said.
This constant change, along with a difficult homelife, affected Zeroni’s sense of home. They looked for refuge in music, which brought them a sense of comfort and belonging, making them feel safe.
“I grew up in a hostile environment, and if I couldn't listen to music, I just felt like running away, you know?” Zeroni said.
Zeroni was homeschooled until their senior year of high school and didn’t have many friends. When they moved to Tulsa and started to make friends, the Center of the Universe became a place they would go often.
Now visiting the Center of the Universe always fills Zeroni with nostalgia for happy times during their otherwise isolated adolescence.
“Home means having a place to rest … I didn't grow up in the most cushioned environment. My environment was very hostile, and it was very controlled,” Zeroni said.
As an adult in Tulsa, they delved into filmmaking, and worked on Osiyo: Voices of the Cherokee People, an Emmy-winning documentary TV show that showcases the stories of the people, places, history, culture, and language of the Cherokee Nation.
“This city, Tulsa, shares a sense of home by being so dynamic. We have different groups of artists you can kind of float in and out of. And each group is very supportive of the other,” Zeroni said.
In their music career, Zeroni ventures into a realm of imagination, embodying different objects and animals.
“I reflect animals in my cadence whenever I sing and whenever I write. With [my song] ‘Mellow Meadow,’ I wrote that like a tree. And the leaves falling … And then sometimes the perspective changes too … I guess I write in 5D,” they said.
Zeroni’s goal with each note and lyric is to cleanse their audiences, liberating them from any negativity that might have trailed them into the venue.
"I've had enough people come up to me after shows and be like, I don't know what you just did, but that was amazing,” Zeroni said. “I think there's a magical element to my performances. I couldn't tell you specifically what it is, It's my hope that I give your soul the hug that it needed."
In their creative work, Zeroni incorporates inspirations from their Indigenous cultures, recalling that Choctaws are also known as “peacekeepers,” which represents how their music can sound to the listener.
“I think through music our ancestors can help us create,” Zeroni said. “That sense of home in terms of where we come from. Because we didn't come here originally, and I think there's still some, like, even though we're connected to the land, we're not connected to our land, you know?”
When they are onstage, Zeroni aims to create a world where the surroundings fade into the background, immersing themselves in the music, and providing a safe haven for their audience.
“When I come in, I'm gonna quickly sweep up whatever’s on the inside of you, and I'm gonna throw it in the trash and take it away,” Zeroni said. “And then I'm gonna sing to your child self, and make them feel all nostalgic and happy, and hopefully at the end of this performance, you'll feel a little lighter than when you came.”
This story was reported and produced by Grace Benally as part of NPR’s Next Generation Radio, hosted by Indigenous Journalists Association, OSU School of Media & Strategic Communications and KOSU.
