James Brown Olympia 1966

Enjoy an early backstage view of Mr. Brown transition from a Motown-style presentation to the "densely syncopated" funk-style that became his signature and his gift to the world.

James "Godfather of Soul" Brown: R. I. P.

James Brown has thrown off his cape for the last time. Last Friday, a private funeral at Carpentersville Baptist Church in North Augusta, South Carolina clothed James Brown, instead, in the loving memories of 8000 or more. Their memories, and ours, will carry Mr. Brown's spirit home.

The Rev. Al Sharpton (whose connections to the Godfather of Soul went much further back than most of us know) eulogized, "Nobody started lower and went higher than James Brown did." For James Brown had a 'rags to riches'-story that needs to be told; particularly to those young people who look out on the horizon and see only all that limits them.

Imagine that...James Brown, "born in a one-room shack in Barnwell, S.C. and raised in Augusta by an aunt who ran a brothel,...went on to sell millions of records, transforming popular music with a densely syncopated funk style widely credited as being part of the foundation of hip-hop" (Ben Sasario, "Augusta's Turn to Say Goodbye," New York Times, 31 December 2006).

In fact, Mr. Brown should be credited as well, with the strong entrepreneurial spirit that infuses the world of black entertainment today. Here was, perhaps, the first African-American musical talent who decided to form an independent record label and produce his own concerts.

Think about it. We owe to him more than we know.

I'm also struck by how the 'private" ceremony just outside of Augusta, GA stands in stark contrast to the wake the Apollo Theatre staged so the public would have an opportunity to pay 'final respects.'

There, on a theatrically-lit stage, lay the cold, dead body of James Brown; the neon-red sign, marking the Apollo, trimmed in gold, situated to-the-right-of center--precisely where men like to remember all that they have erected. Let's just say, it left a clear impression that, even in death, Mr. Brown remains a potent force indeed.

There's only one thing that continues to confuse me, however: Why, in both cases, was Al Sharpton so prominently on display?

Q: How did "Old Willy Dinger"--the three-year old, ordained minister who toured with Mahalia Jackson and otherwise lived "a comfortable life in Queens"--come to know a poor kid from skids in Augusta, GA?

Look for future vids to explore this question.

Ruby Dee Introduces Daniel Beaty

Be Heard: Tupac Changed My Life

Change life by engaging it!

Charlie Brown Kwanzaa

Here we go again.... Laugh? or Cry?

Just another "inconvenient truth?" Or a "useful fiction?"

Whazzup with Dat?

Elsewhere

I posed,

as a questION;

a chALLenge

to distinguish be/twEEn

raCisM

cH Au V A Nism

cynicism.

Here A N D noW, all i ask is that you listen

to as much of the minstrelsy

embedded in "Charlie Brown Kwanzaa"

(courtesy of ebaumsworld and mostoffensivevideo, by way of YouTube)

as YOu can stAnD;

& U might BEgin 2 see,

and reCOGnize just how much of

this kind of 'enter/tainment'

(deconstruct Dat, why don't ya?)

is MARK/ETed 2 us.

a n d YOU kNOw w h a t ?

wE

BUY

i t !

So now, whazzup with DAT?

Urgent Emergence-See!

After a workshop production at Sacramento African American Theater (SAATE) and a highly successful run at Freedom Theatre in Philadelphia in March, 2006, Daniel Beaty's Emergence-See! has taken the stage at the Public Theatre in New York City. The current run of this one-man show, written and performed by Beaty (of Def Poet and Nuyorican Poet fame), is scheduled to close on November 19th.

The piece imagines a slave ship emerging, ghost-like, from the Hudson River at the foot of the Statute of Liberty in 2003--a sight giving rise to host of responses from 43 characters who witness it and share their thoughts and emotions. In doing so, Beaty deftly presents a broad range of perspectives, including those of an 11 year old girl and a 400 year old chieftain lamenting African complicity in the international slave trade.

Beaty's ability to move seamlessly from one character to another (evocative of, and perhaps an homage to, the work of Anna Devere Smith) is, in and of itself, a sight to behold. Some speak in verse; others in prose; and then, there is song. This should come as no surprise, of course, since a poetry cafe provides the basic architecture for the play.

Although Variety marks Emergence-See! as a fitting perfomance for Black History month celebrations, The New York Theater Experience views Daniel Beaty's work for what it is: "an exploration of our shared humanity and what it means to be free."

Accordingly, Mr. Beaty's work is urgently needed in this place, at this time given the stakes. Catch it while you can!

Abide With Me? Attraction/Repulsion of Black Ministeries

Sunday before last, while flipping channels, I encountered the ringing tones of a minister coming from the First A.M.E. of Los Angeles broadcasting on TV One; and suddenly feeling the need for some spiritual sustenance, I lingered--just long enough to hear him sermonizing: "...but, you see, I'm not really concerned about what's going on in the White House; and I'm not concerned about what's going on in the state house either. You see, it's the Lord I'm concerned about; all I've got to be concerned about is doing God's will."

Call it a rapid defense mechanism, I immediately flipped to the next channel--the USA cable network. Although its transmissions were lost on me, that network wasn't assaulting my consciousness, at least, as I sat, quite literally, dumbfounded by the implications of the good minister's words.

Last Sunday--again flipping channels in search of hard news--I encountered a similar message being relayed over "a new cable/satellite network, programming primarily to African American adults" (www.tv-one.tv/inside_tvone/inside_tvone.asp). This time the message was being broadcast from Victory Christian in Baltimore, MD. Although the message was framed in more sophisticated terms, the message was essentially the same.

Again stunned by the profound implications of shepards, in effect, leading their sheep to slaughter--holding out the salve of a future life everlasting as a substitute for truth, justice, and 'the American way,' here and now, in the present.

One thing became increasingly clear, however. As Ntozake Shange put it, "colored chirren believing in magic is becoming politically dangerous for the race" ("Spell #7: for technologically-stressed third world people").

At its base, Black ministeries--"from sea to shining sea"--are, once again, preaching the doctrine of docility. After all (and sadly), this is not the first time that preachers, ministering to Black America. have 'carried water' for the master narrative. What's truly remarkable is how quickly we forget.

It should be remembered, however: there was a time in this 'land of the free' when allowing Africans in America to hear, let alone preach, the Gospel was at least as controversial as slavery itself. We do remember that slavery once rent the nation asunder for a time; but we remember it, when we remember it, through 'rose-colored glasses.'

• More precisely, we remember the internicine war that ensued as if the War between the States was fought in order to emancipate the slaves; when that war was, in fact, instigated primarily by economic drivers (e.g., free labor having to compete with runaways and slave labor; and slaveholders--once resplendent and overrun with profit--confronting downturns in international markets and real political competition, for the first time, from northern industrialists).
• Truth be told, emancipating the slaves was an afterthought of war; a limited scheme Lincoln cooked up in a (failed) attempt to entice the Confederate states to rejoin the Union. It did not (as our national mythology would have us believe) "free the slaves."

(In essence, Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, 22 September 1862, contained both a 'carrot' and a 'stick.' Now the 'stick' it carried threatened to inflict deep and long-lasting pain on the Confederate states: on the one hand, it would free "all persons held as slaves" in states continuing "in a state of rebellion against the United States" after the 1st of January 1863; on the other, it promised to use all resources of the federal government, "including the military and naval authority thereof" to, get this, "recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons,...." History is full of irony; isn't it?)

• So Lincoln issued this decree, not because he wanted to "free the slaves." In fact, to the contrary, he insisted, "if I could restore the Union without freeing one slave, I would." Instead believing the Emancipation Proclamation to be, as he quite frankly put it, "warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity" (italics added), Lincoln issued the twin threats it contained; and when the Confederate states 'called his bluff' he had to 'stand pat,' as they say, or suffer the effective loss of federal authority.
• This explains the Lincoln administration's failure to spread the good news to slave communities throughout the South. Instead, slaves discovered that the late war "emancipated" them, if at all, through eavesdropping, word-of-mouth, rumor or innuendo. Thus Lincoln's passive approach toward recognizing and maintaining "the freedom of such persons" gave the slaveholding South time to 'lick its wounds,' restore its soul (remember "the South will rise again"), organize its thoughts, and begin again.

It should be remembered, that Christian denominations, like the nation, were also torn apart over the question of slavery. Churches then, like many churches today, were "temporizing," as the abolitionists put it, with slavery. Some--north and south--looked to the Old Testament as proof, and argued that the institution was "sanctioned by God." Others pointed to Jesus' silence on the question as an indication that it was "alright with the Lord." Some refused to even address the question on the ground that it pertained only to 'worldly' matters that only served to divide congregations (read: 'the work of the devil'); so better left to courts and legislatures. In the end, those who could not remain, left to raise up churches deemed "free."

It should be remembered, as well, that Christianity--especially as it's been doled out for African consumption in America, anyway--has often contributed to the oppression of Black America. And unfortunately, Black ministrations have always been the most impassioned (and most effective) heralds of its messages of docility--stressing that "the meek shall inherit the earth" (what's the point, if the powerful have so exploited it that there's nothing left to inherit?); that 'it's harder for a rich man to thread the eye of a needle, than to make it into the kingdom of heaven," or words to that effect; that "patience is a virtue;" that true "Christian freedom"--i.e., everlasting life "in the arms of the Lord"--is the only worthy desire for real Christians.

Here again, then, we can hear a recurring theme in Christian broadcast messages, to African America at least. Black ministers, west and east, across the nation are communicating their intense comfort with the status quo (which has grown even more cushy, no doubt, as federal "faith-based initiative" dollars continually wash over them with promise of more), all the while urging their congregations to "abide with me." Ignore your worldly circumstances, they insist, and concentrate on the Lord. The world may be going 'to hell in a hand-basket;' not to worry.

Scenes of unrelenting death and destruction trickle in everyday. Sons and daughters go off to war because oppportunities for advancement are so limited here at home. Mothers and fathers grieve with every increase in the murder rate that haunts our neighborhoods--neighborhoods readily identifiable precisely because they are undercapitalized, underclassed, and under-policed. Parenting is made even more difficult because the public school systems on which we rely to educate our children are burdened by unfunded federal mandates, over-stressed and underpaid teachers, and a generalized hostility to even the concept of public education. Across the board, the costs of living, including the costs of higher education, skyrocket daily; while the minimum wage (still the base pay for far too many of us) continues its free-fall, leaving us further and further behind the economic 'eightball.'

Meanwhile stories of 'benign' (and malignant) neglect paper over the trauma of it all--of emergency preparedness and emergency management gone, gone terribly wrong; of emergency workers--the much-heralded "first-responders"--initially encouraged to breathe in carcinogenic pathogens (recall that the EPA gave every assurance that the air quality was safe in the aftermath of the World Trade Center disaster), and then abandoned to suffer respiratory impairment, disease, and despair. A lesson, no doubt, for emergency workers everywhere in America today?

Such are the ways of the world, perhaps. Like sheep to the slaughter, however, Black ministeries across America counsel their congregations, to worry not and concentrate, instead, on the 'kingdom to come.'

In addition to remembering, then, all that has gone on before, perhaps African American congregations should be wondering--out loud, in fact--whether they might have cause to worry that their tax dollars are being recycled to them in the form of homilies urging them endure, in perpetuity it would seem, the shit-end of the booming economy that appears to benefit all in America but "the least of these."

Racing Revelations: An Open Letter to Casting Directors

Revelations has been the signature work of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater (AAADT) for over thirty years now. Its winged dancers and umbrelled motion tell a story quite personal, as much to African Americans, generally, as it was to Mr. Ailey himself. You might say Revelations put Alvin Ailey, and the African American experience, by extension, 'on the map.'

(For those of you who take exception to the idea of an essential African American experience, re/mind yourselves that perhaps "it's just a black thing, so you wouldn't understand." And this could be true even if you describe yourself as Black, but with a host of qualifiers. Here's the test: if Revelations doesn't touch you in a deeply profound manner, then "you wouldn't understand" what I'm referring to by the African American experience.)

Revelations validated the psychic backdrop of the Black experience through its acknowledgement of our slave ancestors, on the one hand, and of Jesus Christ, on the other. The former--aspiring, passionately, for freedom; the latter--lighting the way up (from the South) and out, ostensibly, of American bondage. In celebration of both, Revelations re/minded Negroes (as we were called in polite company back then) of a past many preferred to ignore, elide or forget; even if for no reason other than to 'get on with it'--it being, the work immediately at hand.

Revelations was at the cutting edge, then, of what we refer to today loosely as the Civil Rights era. It cut right through the veneer of pretense that Americans have historically relied on in holding fast to the belief that our nation's "manifest destiny<>" will forgive, ultimately, any and all abuses undertaken in its name.

Revelations exposed the underbelly of America's epic past; and it did so in a way that could not be denied. The admittedly personal offers no apologies for its view of the world. It simply is; and its telling is a tremendously courageous act, especially when staged as a spectacle open to critical review. So it was doubly validating for artists, in general, and for African American artists in particular. Whether it will continue to do so, remains to be seen.

For the Revelations re/presented at the Wang Center (Boston, MA) one day in April, 2006 marked a turning away from 1) its historical significance as a period piece that foregrounded, and thereby validated, the African American experience; and 2) its place, perhaps, in the pantheon of Ailey's varied works over the years. The female of the "Fix Me, Jesus" pair was of European abstraction.

A wave of questions displaced the emotional tide I'd grown to expect from witnessing Alvin Ailey's Revelations. It has always had a deep emotional effect on me. Whether on stage or screen, Revelations usually brought me to tears. This year, for the first time, I didn't weep at all. Its meaning had changed radically, for me at least, with its telling now mediated through the body of a White female.

Suddenly race was the primary prism, indeed the only prism, for processing the performance. Revelations was no longer a culturally-specific story about the power of redemption in the experience of African America. In fact, I could not even project the backstory onto the Revelations that was unfolding before me.

Ironically the interracial makeup of the pair injected race into the work as it never had before. So I struggled to see what new meaning(s) Revelations held in store, now that its telling was mediated through the White female form.

Here's what I came up with: it effectively mocked the low-level rage Black women feel occasionally when confronted with a fine Black man in the arms of a White woman (in which case, the work of Revelations was distorted to satisfy someone's personal/political agenda); it reflected a rigid preference for "color-blind" or "neutral" casting (a preference that only 'works,' really, when it goes unnoticed); and/or it was done blithely--insensitive, that is, to both the work and its cultural specificity.

Given the stakes I hope this critical turn was intentional, at least--marking a policy change in the artistic direction of Judith Jamison. It might reflect a desire to broaden the metaphor, hence the message(s), of Revelations; a metaphysical re/presentation, perhaps, of AAADT's own efforts to expand its brand (an unfortunate buzzword in the marketing world of late) and 'go global,' as they say, in grinding pursuit of audience development.

This is great for institution-building, and can be accomplished spectacularly as AAADT's high-caliber performances year after year attest. The problem is, any gains in audience development could very well be offset by losses in audience loyalty; if not today, then over time. Another problem--one even more pernicious, exascerbates the first: by broadening the metaphor, you risk flattening the message(s) it contains.

Thus I write as a representative of that part of the AAADT audience that's already started to peel away--one who used to go every year, regardless...; it was tradition. In the past five to ten years, however, things changed; so subtly, at first, that I couldn't really put my finger on why I felt ambivalent, more or less, about the upcoming Alvin Ailey season.

All it took, apparently, was one performance of Revelations at the Wang Center this past April to crystallize the triggers of my ambivalence. As Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater turns away from its primary base of supporters; as it struggles to overcome the perception that it's a Black dance theater company (however understandable the impulse); as AAADT becomes more corporate, it becomes more generic.

Now there's nothing wrong with this in principle. Artists and arts organizations have to find a way to be self-sustaining; and AAADT has clearly developed a business model that can rake in the cash. The question is, can it continue to do so without sacrificing its core identity? Can it continue to empty its raw materiale, and still be itself? Put differently, what's the point of form without substance?

None of this should be read, in any way, as a criticism of the performance delivered by Gwynenn Taylor Jones in "Fix Me, Jesus" at the Wang Center that sunny day. She was clearly 'up to the task'--her technique and interpretive grace were both in play and obviously primed to be at pique. So the fact that the casting decision did not work that day had nothing to do with her performance; rather, it put her race in play.

In this case the unintended (?), and ironic, consequence of "color-blind" casting was that it placed a barrier between the audience and the work itself--one the audience would have to consciously overlook or ignore in order to appreciate the performances being delivered, even though the work itself was lost.

It reminded me of the decision to cast Morgan Freeman (obviously an able and accomplished actor) as "Red" in The Shawshank Redemption--a period film set, somewhat ambiguously (the script is internally conflicted in this regard), in the early 1950s. Despite able performances by the cast, two factors made The Shawshank Redemption in/credible to many: 1) the fact of Morgan Freeman's race; and 2) the fact that prisons of the period were segregated, and would not have housed a Black "Red" without explanation. In other words, the film was neither scripted, nor was the script revised, to accommodate "Red" being performed by a Black man.

The same critique could be offered to those who decided to cast a White female in a role scripted with a Black woman in mind, without even a program note to frame the performance's reception.

Of course Americans like to think their society is "color-blind." Even those who admit that our society is not color-blind, think that it should be. Indeed so anxious are we about getting there that we tend to ignore all evidence to the contrary.

If you listen to discussions about affirmative action, for example, you will inevitably hear murmurs about our "color-blind" Constitution despite clear and significant color-coded disabilities within it.

A consensus has emerged that the United States has righted past wrongs--certainly with respect to African Americans, that is. Political scientists (I used to be one) point to increases in the number of millionaires, PhDs, high-tax bracket professionals, and homebuyers among African Americans as proof positive that discrimination--in the workplace and otherwise--no longer exists. By these lights, then, any and all 'talk' today about affirmative action is really a reference to one thing, and one thing only--quotas; a viewpoint that the federal courts have assiduously subscribed.

A curious development has occurred along parallel lines, however--one that has gone without comment, in not without notice. 'Diversity initiatives' continue to abound, but now aim primarily at minority-owned and -run enterprises. Such enterprises must employ, and count among its core constituencies, Americans of European descent; if they don't want to be marginalized, that is. Moreover, this cannot be allowed to occur (or not) 'organically;' rather, it must be 'engineered'--i.e., some affirmative action must be taken to incorporate 'diversity' in the design and implementation of our institution-building processes. So be it.

This has long been the case in an industry where (the free flow of) commerce is expected to rule, and where the tribal color--once gold, now green--transcends religion, nationality, and ethnicity. There it's a "money talks," "slam-bam, thank you, mam," 'cash and carry' world of efficiences and execution--a virtual whirl of global expediences.

Until recently the third sector of our economy has not been driven primarily by the need to do what is most expedient from a market perspective. The nonprofit and not-for-profit sectors are mission-driven entities organized for reasons other than a pure profit motive. In general, they attend to issues or values of concern to highly particularized constituencies, who have a stake in their programmatic outcomes. For arts organizations, in particular, being mission-driven used to translate into a single-minded focus on the quality and integrity of (a work of) art and its expression.

Now, especially in the performance world, values external to the work of art itself have crept into the calculations of arts organizations that are struggling to grow. 'Diversity' is among the myriad of novel values arts organizations have had to incorporate into their thinking about growth. Accordingly it's somewhat paradoxical that the pressure on African American institutions to 'diversify' comes at the very time that the broader corporate world is being relieved of the pressure to do so.

In any event, "color-blind" casting is 'all the rage' these days as casting directors for stage & screen go about their work. The basic concept is not entirely without merit. It's directed at taking a more inclusive approach to casting --one that rejects the presumption that pink skin is neutral, 18-percent gray, a blank palette on which to paint. Gone, then, are the days when every role, except Mammy, Lil' (Black) Sambo, Steppin' Fetchin' and the like, were played by Caucasians, even if more or less in 'blackface.'

This "color-blind" or "neutral" casting approach amounts to a tacit acknowledgement that today's audiences are more sophisticated. Imagine Hollywood trying to pass off Jack Palance as an Indian or Eli Wallach as a Mexican today. No amount of skin-reddening would get today's audiences to suspend disbelief long enough to accept their characters as credible. Besides there are so many accomplished performers of diverse backgrounds today that ignorance (of the talent pool) can no longer pass for an excuse.

Trade associations like Actors Equity and the Screen Actors' Guild see to it that the names and faces of their dues-paying and (pre)'qualified' members are always 'at the ready;' and talent agencies bring pure profit motive to the mix as well. Both trade associations and professional partnerships long ago opened their doors--doors that once were, in fact, closed tight to non-pink performers.

So the performance industry's push in the direction of "neutral" casting is a good thing, right? When it furthers the art, yes.

The racing of Alvin Ailey's Revelations, like Frank Darabout's racing of The Shawshank Redemption, suggests that color-blind casting should not be rule-based or undertaken blithely; at least not in the racialized world in which Americans (recognizing that this would not necessarily be the case elsewhere) work, play, and live.