Turkish Skies

One of my most favorite female artists.  I’m inspired by dj lynnee denise’s work across all platforms. By the content, how she presents it, and what she decides is possible. Enjoy and visit her page to listen to some of her brilliant mixes.

 

And the Beat Goes On: Chris Brown, Too $hort, and the Disposable Conscience of Consumer Society (repost)

by Lisa Guerrero, reposted from NewBlackMan

Last week while still reeling from the controversy put into motion by Too $hort’s avuncular primer for young black boys on how to violate young black girls, people momentarily paused to consider, and by “consider,” I mean “rush to judgment,” on Rihanna’s decision to collaborate with Chris Brown, her former abuser, on a remix of her song “Birthday Cake.”

As one of my friends on Facebook put it:  “Rihanna needs to sit down and have a talk with Tina Turner.”  I can’t say that I necessarily disagree.  The idea that a woman would choose to invite her abuser back again to play a role in her life after having broken free from his abuse is seemingly unfathomable to many people, men and women alike.  What seems ungenerous in many of the criticisms of Rihanna circulating around this decision is that she isn’t the first woman to make such a choice, and sadly, won’t be the last.  The cycle of codependency isn’t one that is neatly broken, not even by the act of the dissolution of the relationship, which is “getting away” only in terms of physical proximity.

I can say to myself that I would never make such an obviously silly choice, but then, it’s only “obviously silly” to me because I’m not in that situation. However, what I do know of Rihanna’s situation, and why I feel that her decision is more complicated than people assume that it is, is this: much of the rest of the world seems to have forgiven Chris Brown his trespasses, if they ever held him accountable in the first place.  So why is it the sole responsibility of Rihanna to withhold her forgiveness and force his accountability?  Why should she be anymore forceful than a legal system that apparently felt that his domestic violence merited no jail time?  Or a fan base that apparently feels his talent far outweighs a little thing like beating his girlfriend?

Yes, she is his victim.  Yet she is no less his victim than she is the victim of a society who so cavalierly and quite systematically ignores, dismisses, and erases the violence enacted by the day, the hour, the minute against black girls and women.  Chris Brown violated her.  But she has since been continually violated ideologically and discursively by an excessively self-centered consumer public who has never demonstrated a sustained outrage against Chris Brown long enough to stop buying his albums, but has enough outrage to go around for Rihanna that she would ever choose to collaborate with him.

This latest flap over Rihanna and Chris Brown comes on the heels of the furious flurry of ever more outrageous manifestations of a problematic performative black masculinity that anchors itself in the unapologetic denigration of, and dominance over women generally, and black women in particular.  Let me say upfront that this critique is not a new one.  The ongoing critical narrative around the misogyny and homophobia of, for example, the singular arena of hip hop is, on its own, a media and scholarly cottage industry, and not without good reason.  But my interest here is not necessarily to rehash this well-trodden and well-deserved critique of commodifiable black masculinity.  My interest is in thinking critically about the relationship between the discursive moves within media culture that work to serve consumerist desires while ideologically and materially sacrificing the safety and subjectivity of black women.

Read the rest at NewBlackMan.

 

Kenya’s Workspace

You need to watch this. Some of the videos are chilling, others are funny. (And maybe chillingly funny?) You can even create your own online art gallery experience and play a few of them at the same time to find out what the viral expressions of female identity look and sound like in unison.

(thank me later)

 

Walking Home

I’ve been on a longer hiatus from making movies than I’d like. Got caught up in a month too many of teaching, non-profiting, and Brooklyning it up. But this might be my inspiration to pick up the camera again. My girl Nuala wrote, directed and edited this piece as a response to the casual sexism young women of color encounter during simple walks down the street:

It speaks to me, loudly, on a number of levels. Especially in this week where I (and probably many others) groaned silently when the Hofstra University student, a young black woman, recanted her widely publicized gang rape story.

It’s the kind of event that’s tailor made for people to gloss over its underlying issues. Ones that can’t be limited to being (justifiably) bothered by her lying. I wondered what made her have sex with four (or 5) guys at once. Or why she couldn’t be honest with her boyfriend about her act, for fear of being labeled a slut.

Regardless of whether or not the sex was consensual, that fear of hers is representative of the narrow spaces–be they literally on the sidewalk or figuratively in our minds–that young women, and young women of color in particular, find ourselves in.

These spaces are partially what Nuala is trying to confront with her video. Systems that underlie men casually labeling women as “bitches” are undoubtedly intertwined with the power dynamics implicit in five men having sex with one woman, with one man videotaping it.

And it’s why experimental art like Nuala’s will always be doubly important–a chance for us to use tools like video and through form and content, challenge existing systems of oppression.

Plus, it’s definitely consensual.

 

Casa Bey

Welcome back Mos. Image courtesy of Hiphoparchive.org

Well, welcome back Mos. Kind of…I’ve seen the ads and trailers for the mailroom movie that I’m not sold on, but maybe I’ll catch it on USA next year. But after weeks of my sister nagging me to look at this video, I gotta give it to you. Extreme, extreme close-up, real minimalist and a vintage sound to boot.  All the things I love.

(I realized the directors, Coodie and Chike, are the ones who directed Kanye’s “Through the Wire” video. They’re on to something.)

 

To be Ugly & Gifted…

So, it’s not Susan Boyle’s voice that’s wowing people—it’s that someone that ugly could have a voice that beautiful. Simon Cowell was stunned at the contrast; everyone was. I call her ugly to only say explicitly what is, without doubt, implied every single time someone marvels at how she’s “never been kissed” or has “never been on a date.” Sure, Ms. Boyle volunteered this information.  On continuous replay, however, it’s code for ugly and undesirable. (To men primarily, but all of us ultimately.)

But, lord help me, when she speaks, she seems so herself, so honest, kind of rueful. And in a 7-minute clip, we get a reality contest take on the ugly duckling story.

We like her and she actually is very beautiful—I hope she wins.

 

to lauryn (another haiku)

‘coz erykah badu’s new album inevitably brings lauryn hill to the surface and we wonder if ms. hill will ever return for real.

and haikus are my lazy way to keep blogging. so ah hem, this is what i came up with:

girl, i’m so
sorry for what they
did to you.

 

black girls in room 317 (a haiku)

showing their shiny
faces that have been touched by
love and vaseline.

 

united black girls

..is the title of an exhibit i (finally) got to see a couple of weekends ago. a mixed-media display of art exploring “representations of the Black woman in popular culture.”

well…this has been my thing for a long hot minute. so of course i was ecstatic to witness it. my homegirl jessica had a piece in it, as did 5 other black female artists. my favorite was a piece by omya alston that “unleashes a verbal assault” on the viewer by having us look at ourselves in a frosted mirror whose only reflective parts are offensive (at least to some) terms that are often leveled at black women in particular.

parts of my face were cut out by the words “ghetto bitch”, “project ho”, “punany for sale”, “video ho”, “slut”, “hoochie mama”, and “babymama” among many many others.

i was stunned. not just at the quiet verbal assault, indeed, of those words. but more at the number of them that were specifically about sexuality underscored by economics. i wish i could recommend the exhibit–it closed, unfortunately, before i could help get the word out about it.

with a mirror as the medium, those words could be attributed to any group–they stared everyone in the face. you literally had to strain to see who you were in that mirror amidst the clutter of denigrating terms. and even when you caught a glimpse of yourself, it was always within those words. god, now that i think of it, that mirror was like “hey, welcome to being a black girl.” i’d even go so far to say that this “mirror” is there whether we’re conscious of it or not.

regardless of your identities, it’d be difficult not to take the issue of black female oppression seriously when it’s all up in your face like that. it’s everyone’s problem and everyone can participate.

(oh, art rocks!)

i keep this exhbition in mind as the fracas ensues over radio personality don imus’ statements about rutgers female basketball players (“nappy headed hos” who look like the [male] “toronto raptors”). i doubt this will receive the attention of michael richards “n-word” incident, not that all of that was productive attention anyway. but it will be evidence of what is allowed toward black women, particularly in media and popular culture. as was the norbit movie. as is r. kelly’s “alleged” improprieties and pending court case.

one of the most unnerving things about imus’ words was the ease with which he accessed them. they were not simply mean, random words that popped in his head so much as they were tried and true ways of conceiving of black women.

as we figure out policies and actions to take against all of the above and all that is related, we really gotta figure out ways of how to have other things pop into folks’ head when they think of black women. you know, like complex, beautiful, intelligent and loving–the stuff that is actually true of us.

i, for one, am trying to get this r. kelly project jumping off again. what you gon’ do?

http://mefeedia.com/entry/2319099/
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17999196/

tokumbo bodunde
04.08.07