Mark Anthony Neal's Blog, page 928

Romare Bearden @ Reynolda House

Watch Romare Bearden at Reynolda on PBS. See more from Black Issues Forum.

Black Issues Forum Romare Bearden at Reynolda 
Reynolda House Museum provides a rare opportunity to view the works of American artist Romare Bearden, and Winston Salem provides other cultural sites to build a destination weekend focused on African American history and culture.

Bennu Unchained: Black Trauma and the Use of Humor

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Georgia; panose-1:2 4 5 2 5 4 5 2 3 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> <span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Times;">Bennu Unchained: Black Trauma and the Use of Humor</span></i></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">by Mark Anthony Neal | <b>NewBlackMan (in Exile)</b></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">The seemingly endless media spectacle that is Quentin Tarantino’s <i>Django Unchained</i>, was given a new burst of energy with the recent revelation that the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=as_at?tag... Entertainment Collectables Association</a> (NECA) had developed a line of “slave action figures” based on characters from the film.  To be fair, NECA has had a long history of producing such film based collectables, and had done so for Tarantino films in the past such as <i>Kill Bill</i> (Vols. 1 &2). Detractors, though, were quick to point out that there were no dolls for Tarantino’s <i>Inglorious Bastards</i> with its focus on The Nazis and the Jewish Holocaust. The collectables have attracted controversy from those who see the dolls as another example of the ways that Hollywood and Tarantino, in this instance, have continued to exploit Black pain and trauma for profit.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">The very idea of “slave action figures” is something that was anticipated a few years ago by conceptual videographer and filmmaker, Pierre Bennu, whose “Black Moses Barbie” trilogy depicts the Underground Railroad in a series of mock commercials featuring the fictitious “Black Moses” Barbie Doll.  In the first commercial “Runaway Ken” and “Runaway Christie” (in a nod to the Black Barbie doll that was introduced by Mattel in 1968) are confronted by the Underground Railroad’s famous conductor Harriett Tubman—“Black Moses” Barbie—with “motivational freedom rifle” in tow.  </span></span></div><a name='more'></a><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lnZagD_jBH4" width="400"></iframe></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">From a historical standpoint, the mock commercial is a reminder of the kind of discipline that Tubman demanded within her ranks, where anyone who broke from those ranks, could threaten the safety of the others in the group. As even Tarantino’s <i>Django Unchained</i> evokes, “slave catchers” understood the value of well-deployed forms of torture well before the Bush and Obama administrations.  That “motivational rifle” was how Tubman kept the ranks tight.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Yet we’re left with the absurdity of the story of American slavery being told via the flagship product of one of the most popular corporate brands in the world; However one might feel about Bennu’s work here, it’s not difficult to imagine some enterprising ad executive sitting in a meeting and wondering out loud if Mattel could increase their Black share—especially as <a href="http://www.ibscdc.org/Case_Studies/Ma... to cut into that share—using Barbie to tell the story of American slavery (likely the same guy who came up with that “Crispy Chicken” ad for Mary J. Blige). And of course there has to be attractive accessories, hence the “freedom oars” that are sold separately.  </span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Like many moments in Tarantino’s film, “The Black Moses Barbie” series creates a discomfort in some viewers, wh<span style="font-size: small;">en</span> confronted by their own desires to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all; Indeed we’ve all been socialized to hold a reverence for such examples of group trauma<span style="font-size: small;">.</span> Alluding to some of the criticism directed at <i>Django Unchained</i>, cultural theorist Wahneema Lubiano notes that “s</span><span style="font-family: Times;">ome of the criticism really falls into the trap of thinking that slavery, like the holocaust (according to this view), is an almost sacred horror that has to be treated as though we really cannot bear to look on it without being turned to stone; that returning to the narrative in order to think about it and play with the aesthetics of how to tell a story of social horror is itself a sacrilegious act.”</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Bennu, who is also known for his videos “<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAFhh4... Moon Child</a>” (music by Imani Uziri) and Gregory Porter’s “<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HvpIg... Good (Lion’s Song)</a>,” shares the artistic sensibilities with a generation of Black artists like Kara Walker, Michael Ray Charles, Hank Willis Thomas, who have sought to turn Black stereotypes, Black history and Black trauma into vehicles of satire, humor and ultimately cultural resistance.  As Glenda Carpio notes in her book <i>Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery</i> (Oxford University Press, 2008),  “Black American humor began as a wrested freedom, the freedom to laugh at that which was unjust and cruel in order to create distance from what would otherwise obliterate a sense of self and community.” (4)  </span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 340px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 220px;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y4vw1PNHzA4..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y4vw1PNHzA4..." width="208" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">the work of Michael Ray Charles</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">For Carpio, who examines the work of figures like Dave Chappelle, Suzi Lori Parks and Tarantino critic Ishmael Reed (whose own <i>Flight to Canada</i>, may be the standard for judging a satirical view of American Slavery) in <i>Laughing Fit to Kill</i>, such artists “are conjurers who use the complicated dynamics of race and humor to set the denigrating history of antebellum stereotypes against their own humorous appropriation  of those images.  Improvising on the verbal, visual and performative aspects of African American humor, they give life…to the taboo aspects of race and sexuality in America, ultimately seeking to effect a liberating sabotage of the past’s hold on the present.” (15)</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Not so ironically Black artists such as Bennu are given some latitude—though not much—to explore some of the satirical aspects of Black trauma; latitude that is largely denied a White artist like Tarantino, at least in the popular imagination.  Yet what Bennu doesn’t have access to is the kind of financial backing and promotional machine that Tarantino can rather easily tap into.  Bennu’s response to a system that he describes as a “disgusting, gross, slow moving machine” in an interview on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=... of Black</a>, is to create media that is “so tiny, so viral” that it has the capacity to undermine the Machine.  </span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">According to Carpio, that Bennu does so with a healthy dose of humor, should not be surprising, noting that the Black liberation movement of the 1960s “produced tacit forms of censorship that resulted in the suppression of stereotyped-based humor” by Black Americans, hence the reaction to some aspects of Tyler Perry’s films or the forthcoming reality series <i>All My Babies’ Mamas</i> as causes of social panic.  Here Bennu is playing against all sides: a media structure resistant to inclusion, Black American gatekeepers committed to a politics of Black respectability, and Black cultural hardliners invested in rigid realist interpretations of “the Black Experience.”</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">What should not be missed is the element of “play” that exist in Bennu’s work, which brings me back to those Django Unchained “slave actions figures.”  However problematic the commodification of trauma may be for many communities, there is still the power of the imagination.  Like those little girls with all of their Barbies, who decide that they have no need for a Prince Charming—or Prince Ken, as it might be—and that Barbie can liberate herself, there’s also the possibility of some Black child sitting on the floor who decides to enact her own slave revolt, with Broomhilda—or Olivia Pope, as it might be—deciding to light a torch to Candyland.  For me, the possibility of that scene, is far more powerful than the sale of a bunch of dolls, who are lifeless without a creative imagination.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">***</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">Mark Anthony Neal</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"> is the author of five books, including the forthcoming <i>Looking for Leroy: Illegible Black Masculinities</i> (April 2013, New York University Press).  Neal is Professor of Black Popular Culture in the Department of African and African American Studies at Duke University and the host of the weekly webcast <b>Left of Black</b>.</span></span></div>

Black On Both Sides: Exploring African Identity at The Walther Collection

Jay Z's Life + Times

The ongoing three-part photography series "Distance and Desire" at The Walther Collection in Chelsea explores themes of African identity. Here, Life + Times sits down with art collector and founder, Artur Walther, as we chronicle part one, "Archival Encounters," in which photographs of South African subjects in the 1920s taken by white Europeans are juxtaposed with self-portraits of South African subjects of the same time period. We also look ahead to the future installments of the series, including contemporary works shaped by the archives.

NBC's 'Deception' Deceiving Itself About Race?

HuffPost Live
Creators of NBC's Deception say they see no need to call attention to race. But as 1 of 2 primetime shows with black female leads, doesn't it deserve more attention? Dr. Camille Charles, Helena Andrews, John Reid and Dr. Mia Moody join HuffPost Live Host Marc Lamont Hill for the discussion.

Where Have All the Hip-Hop Politicians Gone?

White Scripts and Black Supermen: A Review

White Scripts and Black Supermen: A Review by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan (in Exile)
Recent weeks have seen endless debates – critical celebration and critical opposition galore – of DjangoUnchained within social media circles.  While a myriad of issues and themes have manifested within these conversations, one of the most striking elements has centered around the black male hero.  In fact, the recognition and power of the black male hero, amid a cultural landscape where black heroes remain a dream deferred, is one thing that has unified a myriad of voices and perspectives. 
Having recently watched Jonathan Gayles’ White Scripts and Black Supermen: Black Masculinities in Comic Books (California Newsreel From the history demanded within the comic book industry and from fans demanding white masculine heroes, to the contemporary yearning and nostalgia for white male comic book narratives,  race has been at the center of this history. White Scripts and Black Superman highlights the structural obstacles and systemic racism that resulted in a Jim Crowed comic world. 
Yet, the film simultaneously brings to the life the many ways that artists and fans negotiated and challenged white hegemony within comic worlds.  In providing primarily black youth with the opportunity to see themselves in a world of super heroes, resistance, and galaxatical battles, the history of comic books is a one where race and gender are constantly being contested.  Whether with the Black Panther or Tyroc, John Stewart, or Luke Cage, the history of black comic books is one of exclusion and visibility; it is one defined by fights over positivity, authorship, respectability, and politics.  For example, whereas superman fights universal evil, saving the universe one day at a time, the likes of Luke Cage is a “hero for hire,” battling costly rents and police abuse.  While admirable, heroism operates on a different scale.  The meaning and significance within the larger history of social movements, identity formation (race, gender, class), comic books, and youth culture is on full display here.
White Scripts and Black Supermen also explores the perpetuation of stereotypes within the often-cited empowering masculine spaces of comic books. For example, Tyroc replicates longstanding representations of the hypersexual, entertaining black body. However, the film highlights how the history of comic book is also a cultural space where some black comic book characters happen to be black as opposed to being a black super hero.  From the hyper racial to the post-racial, from the black radical to the freedom fighter, the film highlights the range of subjectivities available within the world of comic books.
The many important conversations about cultural resistance, commodification, anti-black racism, identity formation, and those struggles waged by artists, comic book heroes and fans against the forces of evil inside and outside the fantastical realm of comic book culture is at the core of interface between White Scripts and Black Supermen. Bringing into conversation of Jelani Cobb, Reginald Hudlin, John Jennings, Dwayne McDuffie, and Mark Anthony Neal, White Scripts and Black Supermen offers viewers much to think about.  
“A valuable consideration of an under-examined legacy which moves beyond the BOOM, POW and ZAP of the form, this documentary richly details a socio-historical measure of how comic books have struggled and negotiated with notions of black masculinity, notes Michael Gillespie on the film’s webpage. “It offers a pedagogical opportunity to focus critically on the troubling tendencies and compelling ways in which race and masculinity have been conceived and rendered in an American popular art.”  Documenting the history of race, and comic books, black comic book heroes, the intersections of blackness and masculinity, and the broader cultural contestations, White Scripts and Black Supermen provides a wonderful point of entry.  Invariably prompting wonderful conversations inside the classroom and beyond, the film pushes us beyond simply recounting this undocumented history but simultaneously complicating the many issues that define this history.
***
David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He is the author of the just released After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop (SUNY Press) as well as several other works. Leonard is a regular contributor to NewBlackMan, layupline, Feminist Wire, and Urban Cusp. He is frequent contributor to Ebony, Slam, and Racialicious as well as a past contributor to Loop21, The Nation and The Starting Five. He blogs @No Tsuris.

“Were You There We They Crucified My Lord?"—Remembering Max Roach

“Were You There We They Crucified My Lord?" from Max Roach's  Life Every Voice and Sing (1971) featuring the the JC White Singers.

Otis Redding's "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay" turns 45

CBS This Morning

45 years ago, Stax Records released Otis Redding's iconic song "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay." The song was recorded just days before Redding's death at age 26. Charlie Rose reports.

The Smithsonian's Lonnie Bunch on "What The Emancipation Proclamation Didn't Do"

Social Justice in the Age of Social Media

From New England Public Radio
Mark Anthony Neal: Social Justice in the Age of Social Media UMASS-Amherst | November 29, 2012
Mark Anthony Neal is Professor of Black Popular Culture in the Department of African and African-American Studies at Duke University. He has written and lectured extensively on Black popular culture and music, Black masculinity, sexism and homophobia in Black communities, and Black digital humanities. His books include Soul Babies: Black Popular Culture and the Post-Soul Aesthetic (2002); Songs in the Key of Black Life: A Rhythm and Blues Nation (2003); New Black Man: Rethinking Black Masculinity (2005); and Looking for Leroy: Illegible Black Masculinities, forthcoming from NYU Press in April, 2013. He is also co-editor (with Murray Foreman) of That’s the Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader (2nd Edition, 2011). Neal hosts the weekly video webcast, Left of Black. He is the founder and managing editor of the blog NewBlackMan (in Exile). He is a frequent commentator on National Public Radio; he contributes to several on-line media outlets like The Huffington Post and Ebony.com; and he is featured in several documentaries including Byron Hurt’s Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes (2006).
This event is supported by the UMass Amherst Center for Teaching and Faculty Development’s Mutual Mentoring Initiative, funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. Additional support provided by the W. E. B. Du Bois Department of Afro-American Studies, Women, Gender, Sexuality Studies, the Department of English, the Department of Communication, and the Dean of the College of Humanities and Fine Arts.