Tag Archives: art

Another Artist in the Family

I don’t know what it is about kids’ drawings. There are times I feel like I’ve been shown the answer to something terribly important, and I just have to remember the question.

Drawing by Gwen, 2.5 years old

My eyes try to make out the image, like a distant shape through the fog of my muddled brain. Like a muffled call through the chaos of my preconceptions. There’s definitely something there.

Flashback to the West Coast

We’d been wanting to check out Asheville, NC (about one and half hours west of here) for a few years. Well, we did go to a Drive-By Truckers concert there a couple of years ago, but I don’t count driving into town in the dark, going into a concert and leaving town in the dark as actually visiting somewhere.

I was looking forward to being around the hippies and freaks, the art and culture, the diversity of opinion. I’m from such a place, after all, having lived in the East Bay, Mendocino, Santa Cruz, Eugene.

How telling it was that along with the “peace and love” artsy-fartsiness we encountered, we also got the West Coast ‘tude. As in, I don’t see you and if I did I wouldn’t give you the time of day anyway.

I instantly missed Hickory. I was immediately desperate for a stranger to look at me, smile and say hello. I went 37 years of living on the West Coast, which is devoid of that kind of hospitality, but after 4 years of being surrounded by civilized humans here in the South, I guess I am seriously addicted.

I just don’t understand how cultivating an open-minded community leads to being closed-hearted. I don’t understand how being surrounded by art and culture results in such coldness and rudeness to fellow humans.

Some Really Old Poetry

From a journal in 1998

Poem of belonging

Quiet place in my mind

Watching the world go by

Watching them leave with a sigh

Turned away at the gate

Put no coins on the plate

Wore your jammies to your date

Thinking dreams will escape

Through the hole behind your ear

Through the drop of your tear

Endlessly we appear

In the magic mirror

Poem by a cyclist watching cars pass by

driving by in fossil-fueled cages

blessings of rain never wet your hair

arrive home late with your curls still tight

the questions still festering in your soul

It is funny to remember when poems came to me and I befriended them with ink on paper.  I think there was a time when I wanted them to be good; now it is enough to hear their dissonant silly voices echoing.

Any African Film Aficionados in the Crowd?

It’s tax return time, which means that my husband and I get to spoil ourselves just a little bit before we spend the rest on things we’ve needed forever, then put the rest into savings.

My husband spends his share of fun money on his passion for woodworking: tools, how-to books, wood for projects.

I generally spend mine on books or movies.

But not just any old movies.  I buy foreign films that no one else will want to watch unless I beg them, or that I just end up watching by myself.  My reasoning is, if I ever get the chance to teach French or Spanish, I’m going to be able to use film clips to grab the attention of my students and have some good conversation starters as well as snippets of culture for them to experience.  Of all the foreign movies I’ve seen, I African cinema is dearest to my heart.

I studied a lot of foreign film in college, which is where I got turned onto the genius of the director and writer Sembène Ousmane (read my tribute to him here).  He is well-known as the father of African film, a reputation which any one of his movies will back up.  I’ve purchased everything of his on the market, so this time around I had to find something else.

I settled on Madame Brouette, which turned out to be a bit of a detective story centered on male/female power struggles, which is a common theme of movies of all genres and regions.  I think one element that makes many African movies accessible to Americans is the recognizable themes that can be compared and contrasted to movies they are familiar with.  This link is vital because there are so many differences in style as well as cultural content, not to mention the language barrier which inevitably leads to the annoying lament, “But there’s subtitles…”  As though I’d asked the spectators to consume raw warthog entrails as they watched.

A Sembène film it is not, but Madame Brouette is nevertheless a good example of West African cinematic storytelling: lots of music tying the plot together with lyrics acting almost like a narrator, recurrent use of proverbs as a way to provide motive to and reveal inner thoughts and feelings of characters, the use of many languages to give information about plot and character.

It also contains enough language that Americans consider inappropriate that I wouldn’t be able to show the whole thing to a high school class.  Hence, my idea of carefully chosen snippets.

But the main result of watching this movie is a re-igniting of my desire to share my passion for African film with others.  I really like movies in general, but I feel like audiences are liable to run across the other kinds, maybe even French or Spanish-speaking, on their own.  These others are like hidden jewels, of infinite value to the project of understanding our fellow humans in order to participate in the world in an informed and compassionate way.

I wish I knew how to go about hosting a film series.  I’d love to gather people once a week for a few months and show many different films, get people’s reactions and help them see what’s been going on in the rest of the world.

Do you have to ask and/or pay anyone for permission if you’re not charging to show the movie?  How can I get anyone with a large enough venue to agree to donate the space?  How can I cheaply (or at no cost!) spread the word to the right people, and by that I mean, people who would actually consider taking a gamble on something they’ve never seen before to show up and give it a whirl?

This is a project that’s been in my heart for a long time.  If anyone has any helpful ideas or experience with any such venture, please tell me how you did it!