La Maison Noir/The Black House, a visual album that accompanies South African artist Petite Noir’s EP of the same name, opens with an aerial shot of an arid desert. Petite Noir’s solitary frame ambles from the distance, decked in all red. After wandering and stumbling for some distance, the artist born Yannick Ilunga meets up with his younger self and recites a letter to him: Young traveller, wanderer, migrant…your story, our story will become a map for all of those who rise.

“Blame Fire,” the opening song on the EP hums in the background and before long, Ilunga is joined by a group of similarly dressed people, running around the desert, setting fire to television sets, burning a kongo cosmogram, and deftly dancing around the vast expanse of desert space. The scene ends with him in a classic rock ’n roll moment: playing a guitar in a circle of fire as the night sky begins to swallow his surroundings.

It’s an emotional moment that tugs at your heartstrings and, like most of Petite Noir’s music, ultimately asks: where does anyone actually belong?

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