Our Story
I first met Muhammad on March 6, 2019, when Keaton D. Jones, Danny Gerber, Judge Williams, and I filmed Episode 007 of Dorm Room Entertainment’s long-form interview series.
Our introduction was not exactly seamless.
The footage from our first interview was lost after the SD cards became corrupted, meaning Muhammad had to return and repeat the entire conversation. He could easily have walked away from a young team still learning its process, but he graciously agreed to do it again.
The second time, we got gold.
What I remember most happened after the cameras were packed away. Muhammad and I sat in his car and began getting to know one another beyond the interview. We talked about music, creativity, St. Louis, ambition, and the lives we were trying to build. At the time, I had no idea that conversation would become the beginning of one of the most meaningful friendships and creative relationships of my life.
On March 22, Muhammad called and asked me to join him the following night at The Blue Note in Columbia, Missouri, for one of the final performances of his tour. We caravanned from St. Louis on the afternoon of March 23, and I photographed him headlining the room that night. I remember seeing his signature among the artists who had written on the green-room walls, spending the evening surrounded by musicians, and driving back through the night before arriving home around three in the morning.
That was the first time I stepped fully into his world.
A few more shoots followed, including an unplanned photograph that became the cover for “Ungrateful.” About a week later, Muhammad called and invited me to join the MVCO team as his head photographer. At that point in my career, the opportunity felt enormous. More importantly, it established a level of trust that would continue growing far beyond a single role or assignment.
From there, we simply kept time.
I documented a Tiny Desk submission at RGG EDU, a performance at UMSL, and an evening at The Sheldon where Muhammad heard his music reimagined in an orchestral setting alongside his bassist and pianist. We created portraits, covered performances, photographed lifestyle imagery for his merchandise, and made smaller experimental shoots that allowed us to keep learning about one another without needing every session to support a major release.
I watched Muhammad speak to music students at Washington University and later become a father when Moon was born. Being invited to Moon’s first birthday marked another change in our relationship. I was no longer present only for concerts, campaigns, and creative milestones. I had been welcomed into the family surrounding them.
In March 2020, Keaton and I filmed the music video for “GEMS” on the same day St. Louis began shutting down because of COVID-19. We worked in gloves and masks, creating during a moment when none of us fully understood what the following months would bring. Even through that uncertainty, Muhammad continued building.
I watched his creative home evolve from a studio in Spanish Lake into a larger space near Jefferson Avenue. I documented performances, community gatherings, studio life, and the Seoul Taco Block Party, where Muhammad performed as part of a bill headlined by Busta Rhymes during one of the first full-capacity events after the shutdown.
One of our most ambitious shoots became the cover for the EP GREAT, which would later become part of the larger BEGREATFOOL project. I found a deteriorating building downtown with the Arch and skyline visible behind it, and we constructed an entire set inside before continuing the shoot into the night. While unloading, I stepped on a nail that went through my shoe and into my foot. I finished the production and got a tetanus shot the following day. It remains one of those stories that sounds ridiculous afterward but perfectly reflects how committed we were to bringing the idea to life.
As Muhammad moved into his role with St. Louis CITY SC, I was living in Columbia and could not physically attend every opportunity. Still, we continued creating whenever our paths aligned. I watched him take an idea he had pitched himself and transform it into a real position capable of elevating local musicians before tens of thousands of people.
At the same time, MVSTERCAMP was becoming one of the clearest expressions of everything Muhammad had always believed. At the Regional Arts Commission’s City Foundry location and throughout its expanding programs, I documented the classrooms, rehearsals, performances, portraits, conversations, and relationships growing around the platform. My responsibilities developed from head photographer into helping manage and preserve its larger archive of media assets—making sure the work existed not only for promotion, but as a record of what the community was accomplishing.
His Engaged City fellowship at Washington University opened another chapter, connecting his experiences as an artist, mentor, entrepreneur, husband, father, and St. Louis resident with a wider conversation about how creative people can influence the life of a city. Partnerships with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra gave us opportunities to invite MVSTERCAMP artists, Washington University participants, families, and community members into experiences where many had not previously felt represented or welcomed.
Then came U.S. Against the World.
I photographed the cover artwork for “U.S. Against the World,” “Strikers Shuffle,” and “Brother Nem (Get Up),” creating the visual foundation for music connected to the HBO documentary and the 2026 World Cup. The photographs appeared across streaming platforms and editorial coverage, including a St. Louis Magazine feature credited to Dawson Holter Creative.
Traveling to the World Cup and hearing Muhammad’s music during the opening match we attended felt impossible to separate from that first interview in 2019. What began with corrupted SD cards had grown into work reaching one of the largest stages in the world.
And the story is still moving.
The World Cup songs will continue through a larger musical project featuring additional tracks and another photograph from our cover sessions. Beyond that is LOGOFF, including “Outta Body,” with plans to create a visual for every song—another long-form chapter built through music, film, history, experimentation, and the trust we have developed over the years.
Throughout everything, Muhammad has become much more than someone I photograph. He is a mentor, collaborator, brother, husband to Savis, father to Moon and Mirage, and one of the people who has most profoundly shaped how I understand the responsibility of documenting another person’s life.
This archive holds the performances, releases, covers, and public milestones, but it also holds car rides, late nights, family celebrations, unfinished ideas, difficult seasons, quiet conversations, and the moments that never appeared in a campaign. It documents Muhammad becoming Mvstermind, Mvstermind continuing to become Muhammad, and both of us growing through the years we have spent creating together.
We never formally decided to build an archive.
We simply kept showing up.