Reconsideration

Last Friday, thanks to the Residential College’s Feminist Forum, I attended a talk given by Chicago pop music critic Jim DeRogatis entitled “R. Kelly, Woody Allen, and Daniel Tosh: Does Separating the Art from the Artist Perpetuate Violence Against Women?” DeRogatis was the key journalist in breaking the stories of R. Kelly’s notorious sex crimes against underage girls. Though I didn’t agree with everything said by DeRogatis, his main point – to get us talking about the major issues of sexual violence prevalent in mass media – was highly successful. In brief, as I understood it, DeRogatis expressed that when an artist’s personal transgressions are reflected in their art, the public is sustaining an environment of acquittal, which is exactly the verdict declared on the R. Kelly trials despite the filmed evidence to the contrary. DeRogatis, however, argued that while he could never watch Woody Allen’s Manhattan (a film about an older man in a relationship with a much younger woman) due to its relation to the allegations surrounding the director, he would still highly esteem Midnight in Paris because its quality exists in a separate sphere than Allen’s personal life. DeRogatis referenced fellow journalists who have called the public to action by way of creating a less easy environment for these major names to not only get away with heinous crimes, but also to create and put out art explicitly about those crimes. Where DeRogatis’ focus was on the latter, I’d like to emphasize the crucial nature of the former.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that much of the ground covered in this talk directly and indirectly related to my former blogs. This was a red flag for me to do some rethinking. DeRogatis’ point that art unrelated to the artist’s personal life could still maintain merit really struck a chord with me that contradicts some of what I said previously on the death of the artist. Feeding into a public figure’s good reputation and wealth does in fact provide these figures with an easier environment to escape the repercussions of their actions. Continuing to support figures such as Terry Richardson, whose alleged sexual assault against his models has been widely publicized, reinforces not only their means of escaping the system, but also perpetuates a mentality that says this kind of behavior is okay if your art is good enough. Some of the top voices in pop culture on women’s advocacy have worked with Richardson, such as Beyoncé and Lady Gaga, and his career continues to flourish because his portfolio trumps his criminal record.

There are also many artists who produce work with violent and sexist messages that that differentiate from their personal life. I am a firm advocate of free speech, but until we establish a groundwork of morality, I think artists like Eminem are playing with fire when they put horribly violent and degrading lyrics into their art. I think Eminem has so much talent but lyrics like “Bitch I’ma kill you! You don’t wanna fuck with me Girls neither – you ain’t nothing but a slut to me Bitch I’ma kill you!” disturb me on a level that transcends freedom of speech issues. It’s the same with comedians and rape. I understand joking about harsh realities to make them seem lighter, but until society has a better handle on the overwhelming rape and sexual assault culture, rape is just not funny. It’s not free speech that needs to be changed, it’s not more censorship that we need, it’s a major mentality shift where consumers begin to exercise their rights and raise their voices in starting these kinds of conversations or abstaining from works of art (or artists) that oppose their values.

DeRogatis was absolutely correct about one thing, we can’t keep giving these well established figures of talent an environment to act as they please with no repercussions. I want artists to be able to say whatever they want about anything, but until we live in a society where there is an educated awareness about the reality of these issues of sexual violence, I think artists need to create with a better sense of social responsibility to the mass audience they’re reaching. The death of the artist is important to the work, but the artist as a member of this society should not be able to hide behind his art from the consequences of his or her actions. The messages put out by world renowned artists, like Eminem, are instrumental in facilitating this change. That being said, I also firmly believe in the social responsibility of the consumer. It’s time that we start really understanding where our money is going and what kind of morals and lifestyles we want to support. I may understand that Eminem is playing a character, but his middle school audience might not. The media is accessible to all ages and while no one can be sheltered from the harsh realities, we can all use our voices and buying power to stop the promotion of sexist and sexually violent ideologies, at least until we live in a world where they don’t already permeate reality.

Thank you so much to Jim DeRogatis and the Feminist Forum for providing me with the tools and inspiration for rethinking some of my former claims. Whether you agree with me or not, it’s important that we are talking about these issues in hopes of bringing about the change we want to see in mass media and in our everyday lives.

Bear Hands at The Blind Pig

I was very fortunate to make it out to see Bear Hands playing at the Blind Pig last night and I thought they deserved some major credit for the show they put on. I’ve known a couple of their songs for the past three years and I’m really excited to see that they’re beginning to get the recognition they deserve. Their fame was big enough to procure a crowd with a handful of fans singing along, but small enough to leave them packing up their own equipment as they finished their set. I love this about them, the combination of pure talent, but also a really real sense of humility. The only thing better than a band that makes great music is a band that makes great live music. I only knew one song from their set, but I was fully engaged throughout the entirety of their show. They have a noticably unique sound, which mixes traditional guitar/bass/drums with less common instruments such as maracas and what looked like a synthesizer. The band clearly has a great concept of sound because they incorporated backup vocals and instrumentals into the songs in ways that were simultaneously surprising and immensely pleasing. I came away from the night with a vast appreciation for this band and the many up and coming indie bands like them. I also came away with a new favorite song that really pulled it all together for me. The song is called Agora and it gives an excellent glimpse into their talent, down to earth demeanor, and ability to produce engaging and catchy music.

Definitely check out their albums, my personal favorites are linked below:

Agora

What A Drag

Bad Blood

Death of the Artist

Cartoon by Donald D Palmer 1997

I’ve recently been giving a lot of thought to an essay I read during my freshman year at New York University entitled “The Death of the Author” by Roland Barthes. The gist of the article is that “to give a text an Author is to impose a limit on that text, to furnish it with a final signified, to close the writing.” At first, I disagreed that any piece of writing or art could be considered without an understanding of the author’s intentions, but as I continue my journey in the world of art and writing, my views are beginning to line up with the idea of a self-governed piece of writing. Once the character is on the page, it is she/he who is doing the thinking, acting, developing, not the author. Once the painter frames his work, it is no longer his, but an autonomous presence inviting the world to engage with it in diverse ways. An example of this is the art of Jackson Pollock.

Jackson Pollock “Autumn Rhythm” 1950

As with any artist, there is an unquestionable amount of control exerted as a means to facilitate the art. However, Pollock invites a certain amount of chance into his works by using methods such as splattering and dripping paint onto the canvas. As soon as the paint is released from his brush, stick, or can, it has a life of its own and flies to the canvas without any certainty where it will land or how it will splash. This is a very literal example of the larger point, but recognizing the autonomy of any work is crucial to understanding it. The world of the painting, the musical composition, the work of literature, or any  other completed work offers an escape into the fantastical for anyone willing to engage with the piece and allow it to take them where it will. Much of art criticism and review comes back to this. In the end, it is just people talking about how they engage with art. The author or artist’s intention is only as important as you make it, it doesn’t have to taint the way the work speaks to you. When I was much younger, my school would take us on field trips to hear the local symphony orchestra. While they played, I would make up stories in my head to the tune of whatever song was playing. I can almost guarantee that the composers and the musicians were not imagining their piece playing out to my juvenile narratives, but that doesn’t mean that my connection to the piece is not just as valid as say Stravinsky’s vision in composing The Rite of Spring (though undoubtedly less complex or sexually charged).

I used to be so intimidated by art, fearful to develop an incorrect understanding of it when facing it down without the artist or a scholar guiding me, but thanks to my return to Barthes, I now realize that I am not helpless. By freeing art from the constraints of an artist’s intention, we open ourselves up to a whole new way of engaging with all of the art around us. In Barthes’ words: “thus is revealed the total existence of writing: a text is made of multiple writings, drawn from many cultures and entering into mutual relations of dialogue, parody, contestation, but there is one place where this multiplicity is focused and that place is the reader, not, as was hitherto said, the author.”

A Work in Process

What makes a great photograph? Well, to be honest, I don’t know. However, I’ve decided to dedicate some serious time to figuring it out. I don’t have the painter’s touch, but I do know that the eye can be trained to see and capture beauty in ways that will astound the viewer. Something I learned recently is that photography is not a documented fact. One scene contains infinite possibilities from behind the lens and beauty comes in many different angles, apertures, subject matters, and visions.

Sally Mann Candy Cigarette 1989

A Plea

Thelma and Louise (1991)

Over the past few years I have developed an overarching disdain toward all sequels and remakes. In the wakes of recent remakes of not so distant classics such as Arthur (which I grew up on) and Footloose, I refuse to relinquish even the $2.50 to rent them from Family Video. It astounds me that an industry as prominent as the film industry is falling prey to mindless reproduction of a former financial success rather than using that success to propel more creative masterpieces. It’s even worse when it comes to sequels. After the first Shrek I had high hopes for the second, thinking that a development in such a great story couldn’t possibly be bad. To be honest, the second one wasn’t dreadful (but let’s just say I saw it once and haven’t even thought of it again until writing this article), but a third and a Christmas special? At this point they’re just continually watering down something that would have stood best on its own. Sequels, often made with different writers and directors, often try to duplicate the plot of the original with little to no substantive development (did someone say The Hangover?). But really, the second of the now trilogy of Hangover movies utilizes a pretty much identical plot of the first. I’m a little shocked that viewers haven’t lowered their expectations for these sequels. The Hangover Part II earned $31.7 million on their opening day (source: http://www.hollywood.com). I know the first was hilarious, but I had extremely low expectations for the second (which turned out to be accurate) and it’s surprising that I was one of the few who felt that way. But, I digress. Unfortunately, sequels seem to be a trend that we’re not getting rid of any time soon. If that’s the case, you better believe I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the upcoming 300: Rise of An Empire.

As if sequels aren’t bad enough, filmmakers are actually remaking movies that were made only 30 years ago or often less. To my horror, I recently came across  an article that hinted at the possibility of an upcoming remake of one of my favorite films, Thelma and Louise. Not only am I confident that no one could possibly handle those roles better than Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon, but I’m even more outraged by the notable lack of creativity and substance in the film industry right now. Thelma and Louise was made in 1991, only three years before I was born. WAY too soon to be remaking a movie of that caliber. Of course, there are many notable exceptions, such as Les Miserables and Romeo and Juliet, which have been successfully remade, but as far as films in the pop culture vein, writers seem to be running out of ideas. Everything is, of course, based off of something. We see this in art all the time. Manet’s Olympia draws from classicist Titian’s Venus of Urbino, but he does something completely different with it. He adds his own to the classic female nude, and thus elicits an entirely different response. Directly replicating something seems entirely without purpose. Are we so dry on creativity that we can’t take the message and production quality of Thelma and Louise and build on it? Its strengths should encourage more films like it, not duplication.

I believe that this urge to reproduce stems from two things: 1) money (since the implications of this are obvious, I’ll refrain from addressing them) and 2) a noticeable lack of complex characters, effective action sequences, and appeal to the audience’s intelligence. Of course, there are always exceptions, but overall we’re seeing films that choose one element and sacrifice the rest. Superhero and action movies so often sacrifice plot for exactly what their genre promises: pure action. Who cares what happens in Transformers? That’s not what they’re about. The plot and characters are merely there to support the incredible chase and scenes and special effects. Why can’t we have both plot and action? As I increase my film repertoire, it’s dawned on me that the further back in time I go, the more depth I find packed into a 2 hour film. And it’s the same with my formerly stated qualms with the three hour long Wolf of Wall Street. It’s as though filmmakers think that they need to sacrifice crucial elements of a good film to pack in everything. As filmmakers strive to put meaning in films, they become infatuated with symbolism and subtlety, which often results in the message sliding completely under the radar. In Thelma and Louise, they aren’t trying to hide anything, the meaning isn’t packed away into obscure symbolism, but rather used to invite the intelligent viewer to think critically about the real complexities of life and individuals that pervade our everyday experience.

So, I conclude with a plea for less flash and more substance in pop culture films. To quote Louise herself: “You get what you settle for.”

Fierce

Tooling around Youtube the other afternoon, I landed on Beyoncé’s vevo page. After spending a solid 20 minutes viewing the 5 part documentary mini series on the production of her recently released self-titled visual album, I finally felt impelled to see what all the fuss was about. Coughing up the $15.99 for an album I was already skeptical about, I eventually (after a sequence of pressing “Buy” and then “Cancel”) gave in, ready to partake in highly publicized experience. Let, me preface all of this by saying, I really wasn’t going to spend my $15 Christmas iTunes gift card on a pop album. I love Beyoncé as a person, respect her talents, and even enjoy many of her songs, but iTunes cards are rare and I didn’t intend to spend this one on just anything, especially if the album requires an extra 99 cents out of pocket. No, I was going to go down the much safer route of the new Childish Gambino album, or perhaps finally complete my Aesop Rock album that I’ve been slowly buying one song at a time. This, however, all changed with my exposure to the Youtube documentary.

Listening to Beyoncé talk about her creative vision and passions reminded me what a unique gift she is to the pop industry. Her understanding of self-growth, family, the power of womanhood, and artistic process spoke to many things that I find important in my own life. So, I finally confirmed the “Buy.” You could probably find every molecular aspect of the album already analyzed by just typing it into Google, so I’ll keep my reaction brief: wow. Okay, not that brief. This album showed me a side of both Beyoncé and myself that I had never before experienced. I felt myself relating to her as she embraced her sexuality, intelligence, and power as a woman in the world. This work is a taste of Beyoncé that not many people are used to, and thus for many it is relatively hard to take. It is very sexually charged, but the message holds throughout: be proud of who you are, don’t let anything stop you. Her artistry in the production of her album has also noticeably opened her music up to a new audience, outside of the pop genre, who relate to her experimentalism and honesty. I highly, highly recommend watching the mini documentary. It shed light on so much of the album that I might have written off as merely sex for the sake of sex had I not heard her speak about it.

Finally, my absolutely favorite part of the album is a moment in the song “Flawless” where a clip of a speech made by Nigerian writer and feminist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Last night, I listened to the entire speech she gave at a Ted Talk on her experience as a feminist. It put everything I’m so passionate about into such eloquent terms. Beyoncé’s inclusion of this quote enlightens so much of the more profound message promoted in her vision. The documentary, the album, and the Talk compliment each other beautifully and set the tone for what a modern woman in any society can look like: fierce.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Adichie is a beautiful speaker. A summary won’t do her speech justice, so please click the link to view the Talk.