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The Worlds of Ntozake ShangeAND DIGITAL STORYTELLING

Black Arts Movement Notes

by Nicole 0 Comments

Black Arts Movement Notes 

 

Who are the main players of the black arts movement? 

  • Amiri Baraka (poet) is considered the father of the movement
  • Baraka was “highly visible publisher, a celebrated poet, a major music critic, and an Obie award winning playwright.”
  • Larry Neal was an African American theater scholar who worked with Baraka to open the Black Arts Repertory Theater School.

How did it begin, how long did it last? 

  • It lasted from 1965-1975
  • “emerged in the wake of the black power movement”
  • The movement born after the assassination of Malcolm X on 2/21/1965
  • people divided between Political Nationalism (Black Panther Movement) and Cultural Nationalism
  • Baraka’s symbolic move from the Lower East Side to Harlem in March of 1995.
  • Baraka founded the Black Arts Repertory Theatre/School (BARTS) that year.
  • Before Malcom X’s assassination Baraka lived successfully in an integrated community.
  • The black arts movement was inspired by the Umbra Workshop, which was a group of young black writers on the Lower East Side. Another group at the time was the Harlem Writers Guild which included Maya Angelou, but the fact “that Umbra was primarily poetry- and performance-oriented established a significant and classic characteristic of the movement’s aesthetics.”
  • When Baraka moved back to New Jersey BARTS fell apart but the ideals remained.

What are the main ideologies and goals of the group? 

  • Cultural Nationalism called for the creation of black poetry, literature, theater and visual arts that represented black culture and history. The “autonomy of black artists” was emphasized.
  • Larry Neal says it is the “aesthetic and spiritual sister of the Black Power concept.”
  • Some of the main concepts came from RAM (Revolutionary Action Movement) which was a national organization popular in New York. Larry Neal was a member of this group.
  • There also was an organization called US (as opposed to “them’) led by Maulana Karenga
  • Elijah Muhammad’s Chicago-based Nation of Islam.

Where was its locus and what other areas did it reach? 

  • BAM began in the New York area but spread to Detroit (Broadside Press and Naomi Long Madgett’s Lotus Press), Chicago (Negro Digest/Black World and Third World Press ) and San Francisco (Journal of Black Poetry, the Black Scholar).

What is the legacy of the Black Arts Movement? 

  • The Black arts movement is inventive in its use of language and communication (performance, music and actual speech).
  • “Black Arts aesthetics emphasized orality, which includes the ritual use of call and response both within the body of the work itself as well as between artist and audience.”
  • “I think what Black Arts did was inspire a whole lot of Black people to write. Moreover, there would be no multiculturalism movement without Black Arts. Latinos, Asian Americans, and others all say they began writing as a result of the example of the 1960s. Blacks gave the example that you don’t have to assimilate. You could do your own thing, get into your own background, your own history, your own tradition and your own culture. I think the challenge is for cultural sovereignty and Black Arts struck a blow for that,” (Ishmael Reed, 1995).

 

Our digital future–archives/Shange/ICP

by Kim Hall 0 Comments

We have short-term and long-term planning to do at the beginning of class!  We will be changing the syllabus to accommodate Shange’s visit on 10/22-10/23.  Instead of going to the Schomburg, we’ll have our introduction to the Shange papers here at Barnard. (As I was reading the forward to for colored girls . . .  and her description of “plundering notebooks” and calling friends in search of the “somebody anybody sing a black girl’s song” poem, it made me wonder in how many places Shange’s “archive” resides.)

Obviously, we’ve read quite a bit already, but I thought it might be nice to have a common reading we might discuss with her. A couple of (short) candidates:
1. From Okra to Greens: A Different Kinda Love Story, which A Daughter’s Geography says was originally performed by BOSS at Barnard College.

2. boogie woogie landscapes, first presented as a one woman piece which scholar *Lester calls a “continuation of for colored girls”.

 

 

 

 

The longterm planning is more challenging. I have to schedule the Spring seminar. The ICP sessions are three hours. It’s possible (I think) to do it at our current time with an extra hour, but I’d like the brainstorm some possible times from between 8-5 since the Schomburg archives are only open during those times. Remember that we won’t be having regular classes towards the end of the semester.

for colored girls, a movin’ work

by Kim Hall 9,432 Comments

First edition of the poetry collection edition of for colored girls, Shameless Hussy Press

We had seen posters advertising the piece months before we headed to midtown; Shange’s face, as painted by Paul Davis, had been plastered around the city. We hadn’t seen a black girl’s body promoting anything literary since Kali published her book of poems, in 1970, at the enviable age of nine. You couldn’t have mistaken Shange, with her head scarf and multiple earrings, for a jive tastemaker; her style wasn’t very different from that of my four older sisters, who took African-dance classes and swore by “Back to Eden. — Hilton Als

 

I wonder if Ntozake Shange knew how prescient she was when, at the end of for colored girls have considered suicide when the rainbow was enuf, the cast intones, “this is for colored girls who have considered suicide/ but are movin to the ends of their own rainbows” (88).   Since for colored girls . . . appeared on Broadway in September 1976, women have moved to “the ends of their own rainbows” by recreating the magic of fcg on college campuses and in theaters across the world.

Narration through Poems & Photography

by Michelle 3 Comments

In For Colored Girls who have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf, Ntozake Shange writes

but bein alive & bein a woman & bein colored is a metaphysical

dilemma/ I havent conquered yet / do you see the point

my spirit is too ancient to understand the separation of

soul & gender / my love is too delicate to have thrown

back on my face (45)

This passage towards the end of the choreopoem pulled me to think about the different ways that Shange has been able to narrate the complexities of being a black woman. She is able to convey pain, sisterhood, power, mundaneness, creativity, etc. through words and movement. While it is a different lady who narrates different situations, they all come together at several parts of the poem and interact with each other. This gives a sense of individuality (or isolation, the feeling that you are the only one experiencing these situations) but also discourse (the ladies form a sisterhood of shared experiences).

This form of narration reminded me of a photo series by Carrie Mae Weems. Titled “The Kitchen Series”(1990), the photo series also does an incredible job of narrating a scene with few props and sequencing. The photos take place at a kitchen table with a low hanging light, centering a black woman (Weems, herself) doing a series of activities in each photo. Many things remain constant in this photo series, such as the kitchen table, the tones of the photo, the angle of the shot, and the black woman. But each scene conveys a different situation through the small changes in props and people.  These subtle changes encourage the audience to draw connections between the photos but to also think about the person and the place in creative and different ways. Through this technique, Weems is able to narrate the complexities of black womanhood. Below are just a few from the series, but it highlights how Weems is thinking about the different aspects of being a black woman. Some photos highlight herself to be a partner (lover), a distressed self, a friend, a mother, a sexual being, etc.

I am interested in thinking more about Shange and Weem’s process of creating that has lead them to be able to accurately reflect and portray what they feel and see without reducing themselves or situations into tropes. Many of the scenarios and situations they present are familiar and shared but encourages the audience to think more about the complexities rather than reduce it to just that scene.

Dance: A means of survival and a revelation of truth

by Nadia 2 Comments

I really like Clarke’s question in her blog post “Sweat, Truth and Survival:“In what ways does Shange characterize truth and survival as “one”?” There are probably several lenses through which one could tackle this question and here I will attempt to offer one.

In the readings we have done thus far, dance is key for liberation of the black woman and Shange’s choreopoem “for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf” continues to express this idea.

In the first poem “dark phases,” Shange shows the importance of giving women a voice and the opportunity to be heard. Not only does Shange give voice to the “dark phases of womanhood/ of never having been a girl” (17), but she also encourages the audience to be intimate with the woman’s story, to “sing her rhythms/ carin/ struggle/ hard times. sing her song of life” (18). As the audience becomes familiar with the woman’s song, so does the woman herself who has “been dead so long/ closed in silence so long/ she doesn’t know the sound of her own voice/ her infinite beauty” (18). As for colored girls progresses, one discovers that the woman’s voice dwells in her body.

Soyica Diggs Colbert’s article “Black Feminist Collectivity in Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls…” talks about how black women’s bodies are sexualized and demonized. However, she goes on to say, “Rather than trying to assimilate into a system of desire that diminishes the shape of the black woman, Shange suggests that in order to find her voice she needed to accept her body. Dance was part of the process of moving toward acceptance.”

More than self-acceptance, dance is a means of survival.

“we gotta dance to keep from cryin/ we gotta dance to keep from dyin” (29)

“there is no me but dance/ & when i can dance like that/ there’s nothing that cd hurt me” (57)

Dance is a revelation of truth because it embodies a woman’s very essence, which is something that cannot be fully expressed in words. The lady in purple says “to come wit you/ i hadta bring everything/ the dance & the terror” (58). “[the lady in green] is Sechita and for the rest of the poem dances out Sechita’s life” (37), revealing the goddess of creativity and love through movement.

Dance also reveals truth because it makes up for the limitations of language. Dance, unlike spoken language, has the ability to live in silence, in “melody-less-ness” (17).

So, how does Shange characterize truth and survival as ”one”? She does this by showing dance is survival and dance reveals the truth. However, a question I would like to explore in future blog posts is, “What is truth for us as readers and for Shange?”

Sweat, Truth and Survival

by Clarke 0 Comments

In understanding physicality as the basis of Shange’s art, I realize that she equates dance with both truth and survival. In “why i had to dance//” Shange calls attention to a critical moment in her development: “when I decided that dance was as important to me as writing/ that in order to write, I had to sweat/ to reach some sort of endorphin high to get to the truth/ which was the word/ this would change over time” (56). She recalls this relationship between sweat and truth in “movement/ melody/ muscle/ meaning/ mcintyre” as she elaborates on McIntyre’s work, committing dancers to “the rubrics of sound and sweat” and, by doing so, upholding a dance company “that does not lie” (62). These moments led me to ask, how does sweat lead to the truth?

Then, throughout the readings, Shange relates dance to the formation and maintenance of her afro-identity and consciousness, particularly in “a celebration of black survival/ black dance america/ brooklyn academy of music.” Here, she not only articulates how choreographers are addressing “the many ways we’ve avoided death, insisted on living,” (74) but also insists, “We must sing and dance or we shall die an inert, motionless, ‘sin ritmo’ death.” I have two additional questions: in what ways does Shange characterize truth and survival as “one”? What does Shange’s statement, “this would change over time” (56) add to our interpretation of truth and survival according to Shange?

Shange discusses her experience with dance, endorphins, and writing in the following video:

A Conversation with Ntozake Shange and Dianne McIntyre from BCRW Videos on Vimeo.

overwhelmingly beautiful you

by Michelle 0 Comments

Fanon, “Algeria Unveiled”–Post by Michelle Loo

“A strand of hair, a bit of forehead, a segment of an ‘overwhelmingly beautiful’ face glimpsed in a streetcar or on a train, may suffice to keep alive and strengthen the European’s persistence in his irrational conviction that the Algerian woman is the queen of all women” (43).

A strand of hair

a [bit] of forehead

a segment of an overwhelmingly beautiful face

overwhelmingly beautiful

glimpsed in a streetcar or on a train,

yeh you

may suffice to keep alive / strengthen / reinforce the European’s persistence / irrational conviction that the Algerian woman

the overwhelmingly beautiful you

is

the

queen of all women.

 

Breaking the quote into several lines emphasize the pace and flow of the train of thoughts. It begins with short observations, “A strand of hair,” “a [bit] of forehead,” a segment of an overwhelmingly beautiful face,” but then the pattern changes to no longer listing an observation but describing what about the observation, “glimpsed in a streetcar or on a train,” alerting the reader that the poem is ready to go somewhere. “yeh you” is the final scream at the reader to pay attention because the following lines are going to be quick and insightful. The next line explains the significance and violence behind the observations listed in the beginning of the poem. It does so in the longest line of the poem with slashes instead of line breaks to separate fragments in order to convey the overwhelmingness of this unraveling of thoughts. I added extra adjectives to this line because the explanation in this line is so important and I wanted the message to be clear, that the colonizer is persistent and aggressive. This is especially important since the tone in the following lines is no longer direct and straightforward.

I feel that including “the overwhelmingly beautiful you” at the end of the poem turns the poem’s observation [European’s persistence to save the Algerian women] into an action. It demonstrates the tactics they use to approach Algerian women, which is direct and flattering. The colonist is saying “the overwhelmingly beautiful you / is / the / queen of all women,” who wouldn’t want to join a movement that declares this conviction? It seems that Shange uses the rhetorical “you” in her pieces to do just this. It is a powerful tool to “show and not just tell” her point. By including “yeh you” towards the middle of the poem catches the reader off guard, insinuating that, “while you might not realize it right away, but I am talking about you, this is about you”, referring to the descriptors the poem begins with and what the poem is about.

one kind of god “whose wounds are not the end of anything”

by Michelle 0 Comments

Throughout the poem “We Need a God Who Bleeds Now”, Shange is describing two kinds of gods; one kind of god who bleeds “some small male vengeance” while the other kind of god bleeds birth and life, “whose wounds are not the end of anything”. She argues for the latter kinds of gods. It is interesting that she uses traditionally violent and negative rhetoric to describe both kinds of gods. By traditionally violent and negative, I mean words that are usually used in violent and negative contexts. In describing the kind of gods we do not need, she uses the words “vengeance,” “pitiful,” and “humility”. In one interpretation, she seems to be describing death, murder, war, and politics. I would like to explore her choice to use the same violent and negative rhetoric in describing the kinds of gods we do need. She uses the words “tearing,” “breaks,” “bleeding,” “heaving,” and “mourning” to describe in one interpretation would be the kinds of gods or people that give birth to life. Shange seems to be drawing a parallel between the kinds of people in the world who are killing and those who are giving birth through the similar emotions those actions evoke. Both actions involve bleeding, a certain amount of violence, force, and overall intense and strong emotions. Therefore perhaps Shange is also making a claim about the range of emotions that we feel as people. She is not putting a value system among the different emotions, rather she is putting a value system for the reasons we feel those emotions. It is almost as if we are reusing / refocusing / rebirthing these words and emotions for a different life.

 

The way Shange juxtaposes blood and emotions in the different contexts reminds me a poem in Nayyirah Waheed’s book of poetry, Salt.

why can we never

talk

about the blood.

the blood of our ancestors.

the blood of our history.

the blood between our legs.

 

— blood

 

It seems that Nayyirah Waheed is doing the same juxtaposition with the word “blood”. Asking to talk about the “blood of our ancestors,” and “history” suggest violence, death, and negativity. But “the blood between our legs,” is harmless and even fruitful.

“Nappy Edges” Recap & Announcements

by Kim Hall 0 Comments

Thanks to Nicole and Nia for giving us a lot to think about.  I wanted to highlight Nichole’s final question as something we might also focus on in for colored girls . . . “In what ways does Shange’s poetry invoke the ‘spiritual ethic’ (Collins 286). How does she implement the ‘ancient link between art, ritual and religion” in her poetry (Collins 286)”?

Please don’t forget that I tweaked the syllabus a bit. Instead of reading all three essays from S&F Online, you should pick the essay that best matches your interest. Again, the choices are:

There are so many exciting events coming up:

  • the BOLD book group is doing a live reading of for colored girls . . . this Monday,  October 5th at 5:45pm. At the Courtyard Marriott on 1717 Broadway (Entrance on 54th) 4th Floor. I’ll be leaving from campus at around 5:15 if anyone wants to go.
  • bell hooks is conducting a week of discussions at the New School from October 5-9
  • Nicole recommends Pueblo Harlem, October 10 from 11am-7pm.  It will be at the Harlem School of the Arts on 141 and St. Nicholas Avenue. It might get you in the mood for talking about Shange’s interest in Caribbean/Nuyorican/Latin@ cultures.
  • Coincidentally, MadibaMist is having a screening/discussion of Thomas Allen Harris’ critically acclaimed film, “Through a Lens Darkly” (which is on the syllabus for next semester) on 10/10 **not free**

Zaki is coming to class on October 22 and October 23rd.

This will involve some adjustment of the syllabus–stay tuned for details.

 

I’ve added a new “music blogpost” prompt. You aren’t obligated to do it, but you might want to try it on  week you are stuck for something to write (and it will encourage you to start incorporating media into your posts!

“I live in Music” blogpost prompt

by Kim Hall 0 Comments

i live in music
. . .
do you live here in music
sound
falls round me like rain on other folks 

           –“I live in music”

Shange does not speak of a particular kind of music. Instead, she finds music in all sound–from the rhythms of typing, to the particular cadences and intonations of blacks’ speech, to the seductive reticence of a saxophone or bass clarinet. Music, as natural as the elements, releases and sustains full creative energies,

Neal A. Lester, Ntozake Shange: A Critical Study of the Plays

Neal Lester puts his finger on sound as a specific facet of Shange’s method, something she shares with many Black Arts Movement artists. (Indeed S.O.S. Calling All Black People includes a whole section of music lyrics.) Poet Harmony Holiday’s argument about the intense musicality and orality of Amiri Baraka’s work and influence could speak just as well to Shange’s work:

Perhaps Mr. Baraka can’t be understood fully without recourse to sound — his style of oratory and the range of expression in his voice, whether heard in person or on the records he occasionally made, often with jazz musicians. . . . you can adduce clear relationships between his written and oral phrasing and the playing of John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Max Roach and Albert Ayler (quoted in “Hearing Amiri Baraka,” NYTimes 1/17/14).  You can listen to her conversation with Ben Ratcliffe (and to clips of Baraka) below.

As you know from poems like “I live in Music” (nappy edges) and Shange’s many collaborations with musicians, sound and music are an important part of the physicality of her language: music makes an appearance at key moments in her fiction and verse as well as in her choreopoems. For this blogpost, pick a piece of music or significant sound that is cited or played in one of her works. (You can choose one from the playlists or pick one on your own.) Listen to the song and find out a little about its background. How does the song function in the text? For example, does it create an emotional state, evoke a certain historical period, link to movement, or cite a certain politics? What correspondences can you see between the music and written phrasing? With what sensory experiences is music connected?

This is a post you can do at any point during the year.  Feel free to use it if you don’t have a focus. You can also use it in conjunction with your music contribution to class.