Oh yes, the National Book Award

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 19, 2009 by thebibliophile

Let the Great World Spin: A Novel

 Colum McCann was awarded the National Book Award for his fifth novel “Let the Great World Spin.” The book chronicles the impact on the lives of several New Yorkers who witness the daring tightrope walk of a man balanced between the Twin Towers in 1970s New York.
 
Author Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward JusticePhillip Hoose was awarded in the Young people’s Literature category for his book, “Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward Justice,” a biography of the life of Claudette Colvin who refused to give her seat up to a white man 9 months before Rosa Parks’ refusal, but whose story has been largely hidden, because she was deemed an “unacceptable” womyn to represent the boycott. She was deemed “inappropriate” for a test case because she was a teenager and because she was pregnant by the time her case went to trial.
 
Colvin herself believes that her skin color, as compared to Rosa Parks, her class, and age also played a role in her erasure from history. 
 
The NY Times article that announced the award winner’s after last night’s ceremony at Cipriani in New York noted that National Book Award winners receive far less attention than Pulitzer-prize winner or Man-Booker Prize winners. As a huge fan of Man-Booker Prize winning books, this rang true for me. I wait each year for both the short and long list of the Bookers and then eagerly add each to my reading list. But the National Book Award holds no similar pull for me. I am not sure why.
 
I think it may have to do with the marketing – both of the National Book Award, but also of the publishers who are nominated, not doing enough. For my part, I stumbled onto Man Booker prize winners, reading over the course of a year, several books I truly loved, only to discover they were either on the long or short list of Bookers. No such discovery, or literary stumbling has happened for me for the National Book Award.
 
I think the Times asks a good question though. It makes me want to explore more National Book Award winners.

Yinka Shonibare MBE Series, Part II: Juxtapositions, Satire, & the Politics of Imagination

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 16, 2009 by thebibliophile

Yinka Shonibare MBE’s current show at the National Museum of African Art, serves as a 12-year retrospective of his work, featuring over 2 dozen pieces that highlight  his unique vision and talent for satire, juxtaposition, and imagination – from which this post gets its title.

Shonibare is receiving serious attention this year. First his exhibition in Australia at the Museum of Contemporary Art, to the show at the Brooklyn Museum of Art which closed on September 20th, to the show currently at NMAfA, Shonibare’s work is being seen by, feted upon, and delighting and confusing a wide array of audiences.

Yinka Shonibare, MBE

Yinka Shonibare MBE catalogue

Shonibare MBE’s schedule for the Washington, DC opening at the NMAfA has been quite comprehensive, in large part, because the Shonibare MBE exhibit serves as the anchor to launching a revitalized and reinvigorated National Museum of African Art. Festivities began on November 9th with an official opening reception, convened by the new director Johnetta B. Cole, and co-hosted as previously mentioned by Dr. Camille Cosby, and the First Lady of Nigeria Hajiya Turai Umaru Yar’ Adua.

The following day, Rachel Kent curator at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney, Australia, held a special curator’s tour of the exhibit, followed by a book signing of the fantastic catalogue with the artist.

Later in the week, in a great collaboration between two Smithsonian museums, the Hirshhorn Museum hosted a discussion between the NMAfA curator, Karen Milbourne and Yinka Shonibare MBE. Aided by visuals of Shonibare’s pieces, Milbourne and Shonibare MBE were seated on the stage of the Hirshhorn’s Ring Auditorium, in front of at least 100 eager audience members – hipsters, the people who love them, artists, and a surprisingly (and wonderfully) a diverse audience, to discuss Shonibare’s work, his message, and the way in which his work has evolved over the last 10 years. 

It was a great relief to see such a diverse audience, and I think serves as notice of how excited the DC-area is about Shonibare’s work. It has become all too common to attend an event at the Smithsonian, only to find very few people of color in attendance. Despite this wonderful representation, the tone of the Q&A portion of the evening still proved problematic – but more on that later.

To say that Yinka Shonibare MBE is charming is to commit a crime of understatement. He is magnetic. He is genuinely compelling in a quiet, cool, and absolutely fully possessed way, at a time when the cult of personality in the art world, often has artists adopting personalities that have nothing to do with their core. In the old Black Southern vernacular, one might say, “he’s right on time,” to highlight the perfection of the timing of his responses, his unconquerable wit, sense of humor, and his unshakeable cool. Too often, the audience has a vision of who the artist should be, Shonibare seems wholly aware of this, and obliges, just enough, without moving from his center.

With a voice like nutty honey, as enigmatically sensuous and strong as his work, Shonibare MBE discussed his influences and what he is attempting to convey. That’s important for any artist, but even more so for an artist that deals with concepts of race, identity, power, “sexual decadence,” and globalization, in a society in which not all people have the same visual or conceptual vocabulary. Shonibare MBE then, must be prepared to have discussions on many different levels, depending on his audience’s ability to comprehend his symbology, their own understanding of global history, and their comfort with historical syncretism. As Shonibare MBE explained, “my work refuses one way of looking.”

Shonibare MBE is committed to complicating our ideas about power, race, and sexuality, but as he says, rather than screaming about what he does not like, ” a lot of my work is about critique of something I don’t like. Rather than screaming about it, I make art.”

A swatch of Dutch wax-print cloth

While he uses humor and fun  - a certain irreverence in his work, perhaps best represented in his 2005 Headless Man Trying to Drink, a sculpture featuring the ever recurring figure of a well-dressed dandy in bespoke Dutch wax-print cloth, drinking (or attempting to at least) inexplicably from a water fountain, and 2008’s  Globe Children, in which two diminutive fiberglass mannequins prance atop a globe that shows the impact of global climate change  - Shonibare’s work is deeply serious and reflective of what he said on Thursday evening was about “something that’s happening in the moment.” Frivolity, play, and the imagination are an entry point for Shonibare, devices that when launched, capture and compel the viewer, but it is what is stuck on the underside of the humor and satire, that propels his work.

Take for instance Shonibare MBE’s playful juxtaposition and satire of Jean Honore Fragonard’s 18th century painting, The Swing (1767), which Shonibare has re-interpreted and re-presented in one of his most well-known sculptural pieces, The Swing (after Fradonard), made in 2001. Shonibare’s life-size re-presentation is ripe for interpretation. Fragonard, who gained popularity in the 18th century as an artist who captured the decadence and exuberance of the French pre-revolution elite, in The Swing, shows an aristocratic young womyn being pushed on a swing, surrounded by lush greenery, while her lover lay prone below her, in full view of what is under her elaborate skirts, as her shoe whimsically flies through the air. Behind her, hidden by shadow, a clergyman pushes her to and ‘fro.

In Shonibare’s sculptural rendering, reflected in minute detail, a life-size and headless fiberglass mannequin stands in for the aristocratic womyn in Fragonard’s work. Instead of the highly feminine pink accoutrements of the womyn in Fragonard’s image, Shonibare’s sculptural womyn is headless and ostentatiously outfitted in an elaborate Dutch wax-print cloth, that is emblazoned with the Chanel logo. In Shonibare’s revision of The Swing, the young womyn’s lover and the clergyman are absent, instead the figure floats through space, held only by the limb of the tree, her shoe, still flying though the air. Now we, as the viewer, are positioned where the lover once was, able to see the figure’s garter, which during the 18th century was considered a rather racy element of a womyn’s toilette. Shonibare’s piece updates and reinterprets the sexual decadence of the 18th century, exhibiting the abandon and materialism of an over-sexualized youth obsessed culture.

 

Dutch wax-print cloth is used throughout Shonibare’s work. Shonibare MBE explains his use of the fabric through analogy, ” a picture of a pipe isn’t necessarily a pipe, an image of “African” fabric isn’t necessarily authentically [and wholly] African.” In the case of Dutch wax-print cloth, the designs and use of the cloth were originally developed and based on batik prints from Indonesia. The Dutch noticed the popularity of these prints in Indonesia and throughout Southeast Asia, and in an attempt to open and cultivate a new market – or in the language of our telling current business lingo, in an attempt to “penetrate a new market,” the Dutch began to manufacture fabric that mimicked the batiks of Indonesia, attempting to sell the fabric in Southeast Asia’s (and cut out the local manufacturers of the fabric.)

The Dutch attempts were unsuccessful – the quality of their imitation batiks were deemed of less quality and did not sell in Indonesia and in Southeast Asia. So in the mid 1850s, the Dutch began to market (and later to brand) the wax-print cloth in Africa, particularly in Western Africa in countries such as Nigeria and Ghana. According to VLISCO the company primarily responsible for the Dutch wax cloth for the last 200 years…; they provide a  VLISCO timeline on their website, outlining their perspective on how Dutch wax-print cloth became so widely used throughout Africa. As Shonibare explained, as independence movement swept the African continent, Dutch wax-print cloth became an emblem of liberation, and thus was identified (cleverly and erroneously) with Africa, even though its creation was originally based on an exploitative relationship with the Dutch cloth market, and with Dutch entrepeneurs, whose relationship with Africa, and particularly slavery (rum trade, anyone?) is particularly fraught with inequitable issues of power and exportation (both of cloth and of people.)

By using Dutch wax-print cloth repeatedly in his work, fashioned in styles that replicate 18th century French and British Victorian  fashion, upon headless mannequins, Shonibare reframes Europe and its relationship to its own colonialism and to Africa. So often, the pressure is on the colonized to reframe or retrain the gaze of the oppressor, Shonibare offers us the opportunity to look differently at the colonizer, to reframe and complicate the simple story of power and conqueror, and challenges us to imagine that “blackness” in the white imagination has so very much to do with projection, covered in playfulness.

Learn more about the exhibit, hear about the artist, and from the curators Rachel Kent and Karen Milbourne here. Susan Samberg did a piece for NPR’s Morning Edition.

 

 

 

Fall – Winter Reading List

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 11, 2009 by thebibliophile

Here’s a list of books I’m excited to read this fall and winter:

Black Water Rising by Attica Locke

 The New Moon’s Arms by Nalo Hopkinson

 
The Intuitionist by Colson Whitehead
 
 
The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst
 
image of the book cover The Line of Beauty

Nalo Hopkinson

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 10, 2009 by thebibliophile
The Salt Roads

The Salt Roads by Nalo Hopkinson

 Fantastic science fiction writer, Nalo Hopkinson, author of several books in the science fiction genre that center people of color, posted a great essay to her blog, entitled “Looking for Clues”  addressing the oft posed question: Why do you write science fiction? In her blog essay, Hopkinson tackles representation, the power of envisioning the future, and the importance of being seen and imagined into the future.  She begins her essay, originally a speech she gave at Wiscon, by saying,

“There’s a thing that often happens at some point when I’m being interviewed about my writing. The interviewer, whatever part of the world or whatever       subculture they come from, will put on a curious look and say, “And why do you write science fiction?” the implication being, “Why are you, a black woman from the Caribbean, interested in a literature that still is largely by and about white people, largely men, using technology largely made by the dominant cultures, to turn the world and the people in it to their desires?”"

Hopkinson is a talented writer, creating powerful worlds where gender, sexuality, oppression, racism, and issues of power are not avoided but directly confronted, challenged, or reimagined. I’m (embarrassingly) new to Hopkinson’s work, but when I discovered her this summer through her book The Salt Roads, I felt much like I felt when I first stumbled upon Octavia Butler: as if I had been presented with a very special gift, selected specially for me.

What I appreciate about Hopkinson’s essay is that her voice comes clearly through – and that she uses that voice, to paraphrase Audre Lorde, “in the service of her vision,” to directly address the lack of diversity, diverse stories, and the erasure of people of color in science fiction. She fully embraces the genre, while also pointing out the dangerous cracks in its foundation – namely the racism and sexism that are ground into the genre. Hopkinson shares a startling anecdote about a science fiction story she read as a child:

There was a book I read when I was little; it was a story in which a group of children had to endure a number of dangers and travails. At the end, they reached a fantasy land where they would live happily ever after and they were each rewarded with their heart’s desire. The white children asked for horses, castles, jewels; in other words, property, title and money. And what words did the writer put in the mouth of the one black child to make the journey safely? He asked for a small everbearing watermelon patch and all the watermelon he could eat. And he got it. He spent the eternity of Paradise lying outdoors in a watermelon patch with a huge smile on his face, devouring slice after slice of watermelon the size of his head. The writer intimated that this was quaint and charming and oh so culturally specific and appropriate. My child’s brain understood it as the best to which I would be able to aspire.

Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of SandWhat an analysis! I am particularly struck by Hopkinson’s incisive observation that,”The white children asked for horses, castles, jewels; in other words, property, title and money.” This captures, to me, the early indoctrination about what one as a child, can or should possess, and how that is conveyed and messaged using every available resource – even our literacy and imagination. We’re always told that reading makes us better – we can broader insights, and certainly, I would never truly disagree with this central principle as a reader. Yet, I also hold that it’s true that depending on who the author is, reading may also narrow what we can even begin to imagine for ourselves. Hopkinson throughout her essay, repeatedly quotes Samuel R. Delany, the Black gay science fiction writer who points out that, “we need visions of the future, and our people need them more than most.” 

I’d argue that Black diasporic cultures are deeply familiar with the science fiction genre because of our history of syncretism, as a result of colonialization and slavery, and the importance of storytelling in many Black diasporic cultures. Both Delany and Hopkinson are right. And I hear echoes of James Baldwin in both of their sentiments. Folks of color must imagine and vision ourselves in the future, and in some cases, in a very different (and healthier) future than the present we currently inhabit. Hopkinson challenges the idea that having characters in science fiction who are solely white really represents an effectively imagined future, saying,

My friend Ian Hagemann, a regular at Wiscon, once said on a panel that when he reads science fiction futures that are full of white people and no one else, he wonders when the race war happened that wiped out the majority of the human race, and why the writer hasn’t mentioned such an important plot point.

Perhaps the science fiction futures where there are only white people represent a fantasy of sorts for a world without people of color – and that too is deeply disturbing, but makes it all the more important to have diverse representation within the genre. Hopkinson’s essay is a must read – not only for those who are fans of science fiction, but also for authors of color and readers thinking critically about representation. Thank you Ms. Hopkinson!

I’d love to hear Hopkinson’s thoughts on Zane and the explosively popular “urban fiction” genre.

Over at The Root recently published a piece titled, “The Root Rewrites the Western Canon,” in which staffers suggest 25 books that could replace/be considered part of the Western Canon of literature. I appreciate the list as it names some authors and titles that may not be well known, though it also neglects some key figures and gems, including Toni Morrison, Ralph Ellison, Octavia Butler, George C. Wolfe, James McBride, Patricia Hill Collins, and Ann Petry - who in my humble opinion is consistently overlooked, though she was a mighty talent who’s naturalism rivaled (and outdid Wright).

What do you think? What books would make your rewrite of the Western canon?

Yinka Shonibare Mbe, A Series

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on November 10, 2009 by thebibliophile

In recognition of Nigerian artist Yinka Shonibare Mbe, who has two exhibits up in the U.S. – one at the Brooklyn Museum of Art and the other at the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art, I’ll be doing a series on Shonibare and his art. In an earlier post I linked to the National Museum of African Art’s foray into using social media and blogging to introduce the public to their exhibitions.

Tonight the National Museum of African Art hosted a very elegant and extremely well attended opening reception for the show. The opening was convened by the new Director of the museum, Dr. Johnetta B. Cole, and co-hosted by Dr. Camille Cosby, and Her Excellency the First lady of Nigeria Hajiya Turai Umaru Yar’ Adua. Guests included Lonnie Bunch the Director of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, as well as the Deputy Director of that museum Kinshasha Holman Conwill.

The artist, Yinka Shonibare Mbe, spoke briefly about the importance of challenging normativity and the great power of art; particularly in art’s power to directly confront, engage, and deconstruct concepts of race. He also joked gamely about being good at art bringing “ladies.” The event went smoothly until one of the guests passed out from the heat. Shonibare was unperturbed, pausing considerately until the situation was handled, and then continuing on graciously.

I’ll post pictures and additional thoughts as Part II of this series. I imagine that I’ll write 5 parts to the series, discussing Shonibare’s exhibit in Washington, DC; the exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum; Shonibare’s positioning in the art field; the role of identity in his work; and Shonibare’s own unique perspective based on his global citizenship, race, gender, and ability – which I am particularly interested in exploring as it impacts how his art his produced.

Plarning: New Uses for Recycling Bags

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 9, 2009 by thebibliophile

A sink full of plarn

Plarning. What is it? It’s using old plastic bags to make yarn, thus plarning. You take the plastic bags and tie them together until they become yarn that you can crochet, knit, or knot. It’s a great way to recycle plastic bags, and it lends strength and longevity to your knit or crochet projects.

You can learn how to plarn at myrecycledbags.com.  Plarning is incredibly easy, and makes a fun project for youn crafters.

Used globally to make bags, jewelry, and all manner of useful things, plarning has become a popular and useful technique for U.S. crafters as well – especially those who are environmentally conscious.  You can learn how make a handy plarned bag that makes a great gift over at Organic Sister – just click here

Incidentally Organic Sister, a site I stumbled upon, has some solid information on how to incorporate earth friendly practices – and nice pictures for visual learners. Learn how to make bows and plarned boxes here. Now, while I appreciated the site, it is taking everything in me to refrain from noting the class and racial dynamics,  since I’m on this environmental kick, it’s one big happy world, right?

Miss Cleo Sees Your Life

Posted in Uncategorized on November 7, 2009 by thebibliophile

I’ve been thinking a lot about Miss Cleo….man, this takes me back in the day

Maybe Miss Cleo could tell us what she sees for the future of Health Care reform….

20 years Later: The Fall of the Berlin Wall

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 3, 2009 by thebibliophile

Just Stunning

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on October 30, 2009 by thebibliophile

Kerry Washington

Rod Stewart Teaches Us to Have Soul

Posted in Uncategorized on October 29, 2009 by thebibliophile

Ok. Whose idea was it to let Rod Stewart release his Soulbook album, singing the way, “only his unique voice can.” ? Somehow I am supremely annoyed by this. I just don’t understand why this is happening.

Is Rod Stewart really that cool?  What is going on? There’s no way that Rod Stewart is going to be able to sing any of these songs, better than the performers who originated them.

The whole thing feels a little bit Elvis Presley-esque to me. It represents a history of white artists covering music originally recorded by Black musicians – and producing, in some, but certainly not all cases, less compelling music, while the role of Black culture in pop music becomes eclipsed. Keven Phinney wrote about this in his book, Souled American: How Blck Music Transformed White Culture. 

 A white artists of dubious talent covering and releasing soul songs from currently living Black artists, in a way that is designed to up his “rock and roll,” or  smooth and cool industry credibility reads problematic to me.  I don’t see how this album will keep Rod Stewart relevant….maybe that’s just me. It is not like Rod Stewart is Robin Thicke, Dave Matthews, Pete Seeger, John Mayers or even Michael Bolton…yes I did just reference Michael Bolton (but he can sing, kind of, better than Rod Stewart at least). It’s Rod Stewart! Where is the talent. This ploy isn’t original, but it is still irksome.

I’m plum puzzled.

Somehow this represents the complete downfall of culture in the U.S. to me. You can read more about covers and culture in the music industry here in a Time Magazine article and here.