Tag Archives: la belle epoque.

‘a yearning beyond visible expression.’

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Tomorrow afternoon I’m reading with a set of talented folk at the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe to celebrate the release of For Some Time Now: Performance Poets of New York City, a self published volume of photographs by Jonathan Weiskopf, edited by Jeanann Verlee. My essay, Notes Toward An Ars Poetica, is included in the anthology. I’m really honored to be included in this beautiful project.

For those of you wholly unawares, I’ve been spottily documenting the New York Performance poetry scene for years. Many of the members in this community had become some of my closest, dearest friends. Some of my earlier photo work covering my time as a resident photographer at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in 1999-2000 on Verbs On Asphalt, conceived and designed by Claire Ultimo. (The above photo is one of my own, of Jeanann Verlee at the National Poetry Slam in St. Paul 2010 (that’s not included in the book). The essay included in Weiskopf’s book, kinda brings my story in this community full circle. I’m no poet; just a woman grasping at air and words and images to sort out meaning in living everyday.

When you lose 4 of your most significant people who’ve influenced you in your life over an 18 month period, it changes you. For my part, the true manifestation of that change is making itself fully known now. Amidst all that grief, I fought my way to joy, largely in part because of this community.

I could say more, but now is not the time. If you’re free tomorrow afternoon, stop by the Nuyo between 2PM – 6PM to view the exhibition and buy the book.

Nuyorican Poets Cafe 36 E. 3rd St., New York, NY 10009

What I’m Reading. What I’m Thinking.

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It was not natural. And she was the first…
A poet can read. A poet can write.
A poet is African in Africa, or Irish in Ireland, or French on the left bank of Paris, or white in Wisconsin. A poet writes in her own language. A poet writers of her own people, her own history, her own vision, her own room, her own house where she sits at her own table quietly placing one word after another word until she builds a line and a movement and an image and a meaning that somersaults all of these into the singing, the absolutely individual voice of the poet: at liberty. A poet is somebody free. A poet is someone at home.
How should there be Black poets in America?

-June Jordan, The Difficult Miracle of Black Poetry in America

This the epigraph to Adrienne Rich’s essay, ‘History Stops for No One’ in her collection, What Is Found There.  I picked this book up again 3 weeks ago to reread days before she died. I can’t stop reading it. You should read it too.

More later.

#BLACKOUT.

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I’ve read several opinions on SOPA/PIPA for weeks. I may be off in my read of it, but below is my letter to Senator Schumer urging his withdrawal of support of this bill. I’m sharing it here. Read the bill. Section 103 is SCARY. I’m not kidding.

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Dear Senator Schumer:

It has come to my attention that you support SOPA/PIPA that is currently under consideration in Congress. Your support of this bill is distressing and as a long time supporter of your service, and I’m now faced with a difficult decision if you choose to continue your support of this bill.

This bill is poorly written. It is unclear where piracy/copyright protection for the entertainment industry and preservation of free speech begins and ends.

The definition alone of a ‘internet site dedicated to the theft of US Property’ is so wildly unwieldy that EVERY INTERNET SITE CREATED IN THE US would be subject to scrutiny of the Attorney General depending on the claim by any entity that said site has committed ‘theft’ of content, which in this case equals ‘loss revenue’ for said entity. Should a site post a review or comment about a product that is unflattering to said product, the entity has the right to request the AG order Google to remove references index references to the site in a simple search, and the host provider would be mandated to block access to the site to any viewers who seek the domain. The offending entity has little to no resources to object this claim and the US government can assume ownership of the domain? This is my close read of Section 103 of the bill as it is currently written.

While many may believe that this is tied only to piracy (blocking sites that allow for streaming of motion pictures or major record label music), I don’t see how this bill protects the very foundation of our democracy, the ability for the press to communicate with readers, trusted and respected bloggers to communicate with their readers. I read US papers and international papers online. The bill would allow the US government to unilaterally block any foreign website. Should the BBC report on American events, the AG has the discretion to block my access to it? Really? It also seems to imply that a simple email communication between an individual and me could get flagged as copyright infringement and could mean that my email becomes property of US government and all my communication would be blocked. Am I mistaken in this interpretation?

I have a blog and occasionally write for other sites. If I’m reading Section 103 correctly, it also implies that any reference I may make could be in violation of copyright protection. I’m also a volunteer editor of an online literary journal. The content we publish is original work from writers and visual artists. We understand the sensitivity of this issue of piracy. However, should our original content reflect views that are deemed unsavory to an entity, corporation or the federal/state/local governments could simply block access to that content. We are a small entity; we rely solely on our connection to an online community of readers. There are many sites that are similar to ours in creating content. The bill could shut us down and hundreds down like us with the broad and undefined powers given to the attorney general under the guise to simply ‘protect US Property’.

The definitions are so nebulous, it allows for gross abuses in enforcement that leave me to conclude that in its implementation it would reach further than just shutting down sites of pirated entertainment media. It would be censorship of information and silencing between communities sharing communication, information for social and political action. It leads me to conclude that this is a direct assault on our first amendment rights.

Any reasonable person who reads this bill as it is currently written understands that this bill provides a trapdoor to ending free speech. I urge you to withdraw support from SOPA/PIPA. I’m sure that you and many members of congress could spend a little more time to precisely define terms to protect content creators and uphold copyright laws without making every citizen of the United States a criminal. You vote for this bill, you will lose my vote in the next election cycle.

Sincerely,

Syreeta McFadden
Brooklyn, NY

‘Let’s meet the moment. Let’s get to work.’

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Here’s the thing: Nobody hires in August.

I know this fact quite intimately. I had begun my job search in the summer of 2008, before my job was ‘eliminated’ at the end of 2008. I was working in the real estate world then, and contrary to popular narratives, signs of distress were everywhere in 2007. In August 2008, a colleague enlightened me to this universal corporate meme.

So when the new numbers were released from the department of labor that showed zero job growth for the month of August and the unemployment rate held at 9.4, I didn’t flinch.

My expectations were already low.

I’m no politician, just an average, slightly over educated black woman who worked in the very industry that seems to be the lynchpin of the Obama’s job plan and well, a fake psychic.

Here’s me in February 2009:

So this brings me to my current thinking about infrastructure. Infrastructure is more than the physical universe of roads, bridges, schools, power grids, levees, dams, reservoirs, trains, subways. Think of them as veins and vessels within the body. The body cannot live without the mind. Teachers, firefighters, police officers, servicemen and women flow through that universe. So do you and I. And all of us need to be a bit more educated about how we all are connected in this life. How do we individually complement the stimulus package that was just signed? Infrastructure, beyond the jobs and economic stability it can create, includes you, me and a dose of intellectual curiosity.

America is a young nation with old systems in play. All that American ingenuity we’ve been taught about has laid fallow for too long.

Here’s Obama in 2011:

The purpose of the American Jobs Act is simple: to put more people back to work and more money in the pockets of those who are working. It will create more jobs for construction workers, more jobs for teachers, more jobs for veterans, and more jobs for long-term unemployed. (Applause.) It will provide — it will provide a tax break for companies who hire new workers, and it will cut payroll taxes in half for every working American and every small business. (Applause.) It will provide a jolt to an economy that has stalled, and give companies confidence that if they invest and if they hire, there will be customers for their products and services. You should pass this jobs plan right away. (Applause.)

Indeed. This thought process is rooted in simple economics: cash begets demand, demand begets supply, begets higher GDP. This is stimulus for main street. Create an environment so that consumers spend and employers hire. Investment in infrastructure is known by most policy wonks as the speediest metric to mark job growth. It is not unlike the recession of 2000/2001, when everyone looked toward investment in construction starts for housing, to compensate for the epic failure and job losses from internet companies folding. And that housing boom (and inevitable bust) carried the country out of recession of the early aughts. I suppose the logic remains the same here for the American Jobs Act; incentivize the private market (small businesses) to hire more 14 million Americans out of work, put cash in the pockets of those underemployed and overworked Americans so that we spend more and grow the economy.

Construction jobs are like cells dividing, besides the trades that get hired, folks who do work with their hands, it also creates a bureaucracy, a host of support staff to manage the endeavor. It’s not a bad idea…

Which is really to say that while this is effective method to stimulate job growth, it is a terribly old idea. If we’re to presume that everyone in the job market is looking to specialize in masonry, electrical, engineering trades, then he’s definitely on to something. It certainly would require a re-education or refining of capabilities. The ‘jobs’ that this bill will likely create would require a highly specialized labor force, one that seeks transform an erstwhile trader/bookseller that’s been serving up your latte at your local coffee shop for the past six months to rewire a school to support a 4G network.

When we talk of job creation what exactly are we talking about? Continue reading →

however do you want me. however do you need me.

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So I took the summer off from blogging and have been on my reinvention grind. This economy has been various degrees of unkind and kind to black girls (and yes, everyone). As of late I’m choosing to embrace a more positive dream (more on that later). Yet, these hands were not idle. There’s the summer issue of the litmag I edit with an awesome team of folks and a new issue to drop later this month. As well as confronting my oddball disdain for Herman Melville (my sole summer read), which has really revealed a misdirected love for his whole opus. That reads cryptic, I know. I’ll unpack that later gators.

against appropriation.

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One would categorize this situation as a thorny issue:

Though he describes himself as a good friend of hers, the fashion and art photographer David LaChapelle has decided to settle his differences with the pop star Rihanna in a place where friends don’t usually end up: court. Mr. LaChapelle, known for his candy-colored, sexually over-the-top images, claims in a suit filed Monday in federal court in Manhattan that Rihanna helped herself to too many of the images in the recently released video for her sexually over-the-top song “S & M.”

The suit, which asks for at least $1 million in damages, argues that the video is “directly derived from and substantially similar to” photographs he has created and published that show, among other things, a dominatrix walking a chained man on a leash, a woman in latex headgear and another woman (Lady Gaga, to be precise) wearing only screaming headlines. In all, the suit claims, eight of Mr. LaChapelle’s images were used to create scenes in the video, which the suit calls a “willful, wanton and deliberate” infringement of his copyright protections.

It reminded me of Junot Diaz’s comments to a packed audience at the Union Square Barnes and Noble upon the release of his Pulitzer Prize winning novel back in 2007, where a young writer asked about Diaz’s influence or inspiration. Diaz instructed the writer to ‘steal that shit.’ We all laughed hard at that. Diaz seemed to be speaking specifically about mimicing style as a tool for one’s own creative process. Many reviewers compared Diaz to the late David Foster Wallace (well more like Patrick Choimoseau’s Texaco than Infinite Jest, but that’s just splitting literati hairs. Maybe…) And that comparison was assigned to Diaz because of his copious usage of footnotes (like Wallace, but also like Choimoseau, but also like Borges) as part of the novel’s narrative structure. Yet, we have to explore the knotty relationship between appropriation without attribution. Think back to the recently settled case of Shepard Fairey versus the Associate Press, where an image inspired art (and informed a movement) without proper attribution.

Looking at LaChapelle’s images and stills from the ‘S&M‘ video, the similarities are undeniable. Rihanna, who has worked with LaChapelle before, begs the obvious question: why did she not simply work with the director again? Rihanna’s collaborator, director Melina Matsoukas, acknowledges that she is influenced of the work other artists, yet neglects to mention them by name. This is the pair’s second offense. Certainly, we artists look to other artists and mediums from which to draw inspiration, inform and develop our own work, but at what point does it become all out thievery?

On the other side of copying issue lies Kanye West and Hype Williams. As others have charged that the pair has committed the offense of copying another artist, the filmaker Gaspar Noé, I’m not sure that’s entirely fair. Noé is obviously influenced by the Jean-Luc Godard, who has had decades long influences on some of our most celebrated filmmakers, photographers, artist that include giants like Robert Altman, Francis Ford Coppola, Mike Nichols, established newbies Wes Anderson, Sofia Coppola, Quentin Tarantino, (I’d argue the Joel and Ethan Cohen too) and this guy.  Obviously, me too (photography and writing). And I don’t love the West/Williams video, but I immediately recognize the nod to Godard (go back and look at Runaway, too, Godard’s influence is all up in that). Godard was more than likely influenced as we all are by the Lumiere Brothers. Why is it all out copying for West and Williams and not for Noé? Theft is a curious charge to me.

For LaChapelle, I feel RiRi and Matsoukas can’t argue influence when many of the images are nearly identical staging of the photographs. As for McGinley, the influence is evident for ‘Only Girl in The World‘, the staging is suspiciously familiar.  How’s that saying go: There’s nothing new under the sun. Right?

Right…

I’m not sure what the answer is. As a photographer and writer, I certainly draw influences from multiple mediums. My ridiculous paparrazo project is influenced by Fellini, Godard, hip hop, Nan Goldin, Basquiat, and my contemporaries. My soundtrack in my head when I shoot is Uproot Andy’s El Botellon’s remix (Seriously).  I’m certainly influenced by an artist’s aesthetic judgments, but ultimately, I need to determine my own vision for what I wish to show/say. West/Williams video may pay homage to a film director, utilizing a style that everyone and their mother has mimicked for decades, but I can’t say that it’s artistic theft. Derivative and trite is one thing, but copying is a whole ‘nother thesis ;)

1.1.11

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One.

This year is a prime number. And according to this guy, the sum of 11 consecutive prime numbers:

The prime-ness of this year suggest one should do something momentous. So I went to Coney Island with my friends to watch a few hundred giddy people of all shades and shapes jump into the 38 degree waters of the Atlantic Ocean. I even got my feet wet. Not bad 1.1.11.  Bring it.

 

 

In The Shadow of No Towers.

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I’m talking here about being a child of my time.

When I think of September 11th, 2001, I am thinking more of the days just before it. I am remembering Sunday, September 9th. It was a light Sunday afternoon where Lynne, Bassey, Seed and I met up in Fort Greene, had brunch and then not quite ready to part ways  —there was so much more for us to say to each other— we went to Fort Greene Park, hiked up a hill to the highest summit in the park to the Prison Martyr’s Ship monument, laid out a blanket and took in all that was beautiful, young and full. Seed was visiting town from Knoxville and had a gig at the Nuyorican. We talked about writing and music. I brought my camera along, for no particular reason. I had stopped taking pictures for a year after college, but I was getting serious about it again. Seed had an idea for a musical. I think we talked poetry, nationals, dreams, plans… always, always about writing and art.  I don’t remember the details of what we talked about. I do remember feeling content and connected. We felt possibility with each other. We were all together. For no particular reason, I looked over my right shoulder and said, ‘Hey, you can see the World Trade Center from here.’ I don’t remember if it was Bassey or Seed or Lynne or if they all said ‘Yeah, you sure can.” I snapped my shutter. We were in the park for hours until the September wind chilled and we decided to go to Chez Oskar for dinner. There are gaps in my memory; they bleed into the following night. That night before, it rained so hard. A punishing and wrenching rain. I thought to myself, God is weeping. I remember earlier in the day that I couldn’t see the towers from the window of my boss’s office at work. The sky was muddy. And my memory flashes to a bar, and there we were again, together. Al had joined us. He had just finished a show at PS122 and we all went to a bar on University Place that wasn’t Reservoir. Al and Bassey spontaneously broke into characters, our private comedy improv group. Seed, Al and Peter took turns wearing my glasses, and goaded me to take their pictures. Elana mocked Al and Bassey’s schtick. Everything was lively and our conversations glittered. We were fully present in our innocence. Before the collapse of towers, before two wars, before Bin Laden, before cancer, before tumors, before…

I was up so late that I barely slept, Seed crashed at my apartment and kept me up talking about his grand idea for a musical he was writing. My dreams were a mashup of Moulin Rouge and Stevie’s Fulfillingness’ First Finale. I still woke up at my usual time. And the only thought in my head that morning was that I had been meaning to go to the World Trade Center for days to pick up something I ordered at one of the stores.  I remember saying to myself, if I don’t go today, I’ll never go. How was I to know the truth of such words?

I remember listening to the radio because the TV signal was out. Answering my phone to tell everyone that I was home in Brooklyn, that I hadn’t left my house yet. I remember Bassey telling us to come to her apartment. I remember that night we left Bassey’s and went to Park Slope to eat. I had an inexplicable craving for tabouli. I remember that we ran into Matthew who was comforting a friend who worked in the Towers. I remember that Al, Bassey, Lynne and Seed were my family for those days and will always be family because of it. I can’t remember now if Al had worked for American Airlines as a Flight Attendant, but I do remember him saying that he could’ve been working one of those planes because it was a route he’d worked frequently, and if he hadn’t had the gig at PS122, pursuing his art…

But all I know is that we felt blessed to be with each other. We were all where we needed to be, holding each other, waiting for the new world to begin.