Archives for: October 2009
Martha Southgate Reports: "Celebrating Contemporary African American Novels Since 1988"
This post originally appeared on the RingShout Blogspot:
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Just got back from a wonderful literary conference at Penn State called "Celebrating Contemporary African-American Novels since 1988" It was fabulous--the level of discourse, as the theorists like to say and the excitement about engaging seriously with literature was truly inspiring. This conference was particularly exciting because I, Mat Johnson and Alice Randall were all there as contemporary practitioners, mixing it up with the theorists. Here are some photographs and impressions from a fellow conferencee (and Penn State prof.)
Particularly impressive was the level of thought that went into the various papers presented--check out these abstracts. I was also in attendance at a panel on teaching Af-Am literature that raised interesting questions about how to engage with the place of hip-hop literature in the class room--does it have one? If so, what is its place? As uncomfortable as it might make some of us, students coming up have this literature as a frame of reference. They've got to be taught to look at it thoughtfully. Also interesting was a panel on pedagogy that looked at a number of ways that contemporary texts can be taught--I was particularly interested in the various approaches taken.
All in all, the conference was a beautiful thing. I can't wait until the next one.
Julia Chance on Chris Rock's "Good Hair"
Thanks to Julia Chance for this article, which originally appeared on Heart&Soul.com:
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By Julia Chance
When I first heard that comedian Chris Rock produced a documentary exploring the complex and complicated relationship black women have with their hair, I thought, uh-oh. It’s no secret that Rock’s brand of humor often involves taking women, especially black women, to task where love and relationships are concerned. If he approaches this sensitive subject in a similarly acerbic way, I concluded, he’s going catch heat from a whole lot of sisters who will certainly take offense.
Fortunately Rock doesn’t go there in Good Hair. The film is funny in the way you’d expect this type of comedic documentary to be. There’s plenty of humorous beauty and barber shop banter, where stylists and clients weigh-in on the topic of good hair and the lengths many black women go to in order to sport straightened ‘dos. Extension-wearing celebrities like Nia Long, Raven-Symoné, Meagan Good and Salt-N-Pepa good-naturedly admit to wearing faux tresses and explain their choices (for black actresses trying to get roles in Hollywood, it seems, weaves just come with the territory).
Rock even includes popular back-in-the-day commercials for products like Vigorol and Dark & Lovely relaxers that are comical for their ‘70s era campiness. And what film about black hair would be complete without the requisite visit to a hair show? Rock heads to Atlanta for the annual Bronner Brothers trade show, where hairstyling competitions reach Olympic proportions with plenty of Vegas-style glitz.
While Rock never really breaks from playing funny man – he is a comedian after all – he does a commendable job of revealing some sobering facts about the multi-billion-dollar black hair products industry. He visits a chemist whose gross-out show-and-tell demonstrations about the dangers of sodium hydroxide, the active ingredient in relaxers, silenced viewers in the theater. Asian beauty supply owners give frank opinion on why “black” hair, in its natural nappy state, is not desirable – or profitable.
In a surprising twist rapper-actor Ice-T and Rev. Al Sharpton, two men with an intimate knowledge of perms, give enlightened and eloquent takes on the absurdity and misplaced values that our preoccupation with attaining straight hair often poses in our community. Sharpton really brings it home by making the point that those profiting the most off of the black hair industry are not black, and that no other group allows outsiders to come into their communities to sell a coveted commodity back to them.
This all culminates into what for me was the film’s most arresting moment: Rock goes to a Hindu temple in India and observes the practice of tonsure, where hundreds of women, men and children have their hair shaved off as an offering to the gods. Women here in the U.S. buy and wear much of that hair.
What’s woefully lacking in Good Hair is historical context. Rock never really explores the roots of why so many black women find their natural hair inconvenient and bothersome, pertinent information that could have easily been included without sacrificing humor. (Books like Hair Story by journalists Ayana Byrd and Lori Tharps and Hair Raising: Beauty, Culture and African-American Women by Princeton professor Noliwe Rooks could have provided him with more than enough research on the topic.)
Rock even features commentary from A’Lelia Bundles without ever identifying her as the heir to the black hair care pioneer Madam C.J. Walker. Nor does he cite Walkers legacy and contributions to the hair care industry. And with the exception of Tracie Thoms, an actress who adamantly defends her choice for wearing natural hair, you don’t hear from those on the other side of coin – black women who’ve made a conscious decision not to succumb to conventional straight hair dictates.
Good Hair is hardly revolutionary, but it is entertaining thanks in a large part to Rock’s effectiveness as an interviewer and narrator. While it doesn’t necessarily tell black folks much we don’t already know, it may work to start dialogues about how we still cling to outdated notions about our beauty and acceptability, and make us question and scrutinize the way we spend our money in our quest for what’s “good.”
Speaking of good hair, be sure to check out my article of the same name in the current issue of Heart & Soul. In it you’ll learn how you can have beautiful, healthy hair whether you wear yours straightened or natural, in a weave or in locks. There’s also plenty of care recommendations and product suggestions from the pro stylists I interviewed.
On another hair note, NaturallyCurly.com has teamed with Miss Jessie’s hair care products for the 2009 Grow Out Challenge. From now until March 31, 2010 they are challenging women to shed their over-processed and damaged hair in order to transition to healthier natural tresses. To start the process, simply become a registered member of NaturallyCurly, then create blog posts and upload images to document your progress. You can also read blogs by other contestants. Each month four winners will be selected to receive a personal hair prescription and products from Miss Jessie’s valued at approximately $150.00. For tips on transitioning or for additional information on the 2009 Grow Out Challenge, visit: www.naturallycurly.com/growoutchallenge.
Julia Chance is senior editor, beauty and fashion, at Heart & Soul. Also read an interview by contributing editor Joyce E. Davis with Good Hair co-producer Nelson George in the Downtime section of the October/November issue.
Rob Fields on "How Dash's BlakRoc Disses Black Rock"
Check out Rob's Bold as Love. This originally ran on The Huffington Post:
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How can you call something “BlakRoc” when the black folks on the project only rap and the rockers are all white?
BlakRoc is the name of Damon Dash’s upcoming project, a collaboration between white rockers The Black Keys and rappers such as Mos Def, Q-Tip, Ludacris, and Raekwon, to name a few. Ordinarily, I could care less what Damon Dash does. But in choosing this name for the project, he crossed a line: You can’t match black rappers and white rockers and call it “BlakRoc.”
No, BlakRoc has nothing to do with black rock, something I’ve spent nearly the last three years championing on my blog. The conflation of the two is offensive. There’s too much history there. It’s like he’s acknowledging the existence of black rock with his middle finger.
“BlakRoc” is a slap in the face to those of us who have been working to develop audiences for black artists who don’t fit neatly into pre-conceived categories. It’s an affront to those of us who still face apathy and dismissiveness when it comes to the place of blacks in beyond hip hop and R&B.
It’s galling, too, coming on the heels of Dash’s former partner, Jay-Z, saying bands like Grizzly Bear were going to push hip hop. Some hipsters are going to save hip hop? Great. Statements like this ignore all of the black artists who are embracing live music, forming bands, telling more substantive stories, and the audiences who are supporting black alternative music in growing numbers. That’s going to force hip hop to evolve.
Truthfully, however, I shouldn’t be surprised that someone like Dash, himself a champion of hip hop’s “arrogant opulence,” would come up with such an ahistorical name for a project. I can only assume that it’s an opportunity for Dash to leverage the halo of his former association with Roc A Fella in order to get back into the music game. But it’s boneheaded.
Does Dash even know what black rock means? The term dates back nearly 25 years to the founding of the Black Rock Coalition. It signifies that rock music was never the sole province of white, male expression. There were always other people in the mix, as exemplified by the many bands, artists and supporters -- male and female -- who comprise the growing ranks of the Black Rock Coalition, Afro-Punk, URB Alt and Ghetto Metal communities. The term never applies to white bands.
Even worse, Dash is late to getting on the rock tip. The cultural shift that’s pushing black rock off the fringes and towards the mainstream has been underway for a while now. Nearly three years ago The New York Times (re)discovered the black indie rock community. Subsequent to that the musical Passing Strange went to Broadway and won a Tony Award. What’s more: The Afro-Punk Festival in Brooklyn attracts 30,000 people each year; TV On The Radio’s Dear Science was named 2008 Album of The Year by both SPIN and Rolling Stone; and the black indie milieu is used as a setting for film (Barry Jenkins’ celebrated Medicine for Melancholy) and a novel (Farai Chideya’s Kiss The Sky). And all of this is on top of the hundreds of black rock bands nationally and internationally who represent a fuller spectrum of black music.
Here are my politics: When you have the chance to move the needle forward for African Americans, you do it. If Dash was looking to stay in the lo-fi, break-friendly, blues-rock zone, why not take the opportunity to shine a spotlight on Alvin Youngblood Hart, Corey Harris, The Soul of John Black, Three5Human, or Earl Greyhound? These artists have been keeping the blues alive for years, but have hardly been given the critical support they deserve. And how hot would it be to bring the 11 rappers on this project together with, say, blues legend Buddy Guy? But that requires vision, not just opportunism.
Should we hold the artists involved in the project accountable? This is a tricky area. Artists are always looking for outlets for their creativity. For most of the rappers on this project, I assume this was one of the few times they got to work with live musicians. Also, this project probably exposes both the rappers and the Black Keys to audiences they might not otherwise reach. This is all good.
But the way the skewed media tastemaking machine works, this project will only serve as further proof of the Black Keys’ artistry. The fact is, given all the critical acclaim they’ve received, they certainly didn’t “need” the burn they’re going to get from being associated with this project. I look at them at them in an historical context and see another example of white artists who rode the blues to successful careers, even stardom. Think the White Stripes, the Black Crowes, even as far back as The Rolling Stones. The gushing is already underway: “A new age of possibility,” crows a writer on the URB blog. Whatever.
It’s straight up cowardice that the music media willfully ignores the existence of what the name of this project calls up when it's the big elephant in the room.
But you’ll think for yourself, won’t you? If you want to find out what’s real, growing and vibrant in black rock, join the Black Rock Coalition and URB Alt communities online, check out the 20-city Afro-Punk tour that kicks off this week, or just go out and support any of the hundreds of black rock artists across the country who are making engaging and exciting music right now.
The BlakRoc Project will probably do well. But it won’t be worthy of its name.
Follow Rob Fields on Twitter: www.twitter.com/@robfields
Read more at: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rob-fields/dashs-blakroc-disses-blac_b_326420.html
8 comments
@Julia. Thanks for the kind words. Just trying to represent for something I care deeply about.
I have heard a leaked copy and its excellent regardless of what color some of the people involved are.
Get over your self-righteousness and celebrate a musical accomplishment, 50 years ago this kind of multi-race compilation wouldn't be possible. Bands like Booker T and the MGs played soul with whites in the band, was that a slap in the face to all the greats on STAX records recording "black soul music"??
Any fan of music should be able to appreciate this, and upcoming new bands of a similar genre should be be glad for any exposure.
@travis. Thanks for your comments, as well. As I noted in the HuffPo comments, I think the music will be really strong. And, as a marketer, I get the Black Keys/Roc-A-Fella connection as the basis for the name. However, my position remains unchanged. The name means something to me and to a lot of other people involved with black rock and those of us who care have a right and a responsibility to speak up on its behalf.
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