Tag: Africa Page 1 of 2

Art Meets Heart

I’m always surprised and delighted by the sheer number of fascinating, artsy events happening in Toronto at any given time. In addition to Art Battle, A Work Of Heart, which also features live painting, is coming up soon. A Work Of Heart is an initiative that brings together artists and philanthropy in a spirit of cooperation, self-determination, curiosity and sharing. To quote its current release, “artwork is donated by seven local artists… half of the proceeds will go towards building a boarding school in Kenya’s Mathare Slum.”

Owing to conversations with TMS Ruge and other experts in the field of aid and development, I’ve developed a kind of mental alarm system for anything resembling Western-style feel-good-isms toward African nations. Too often those efforts are exercises in narcissism and brand-building, offering simplistic answers and reflecting the organizers’ romanticized (/stereotypical /racist) image of Africa and its citizens moreso than actively acknowledging the messy, complicated, multi-layered world of development and well, humanity overall. It’s easy to reduce a nation -its citizens within it, its continent around it -to easy slogans and poetic images, ones colored by celebrity visits and ad campaigns and big-ass concerts.

Work Of Heart is less interested in big gestures than it is in committing to long-term good. It’s a small, grassroots organization working at the grassroots level, lead by people who’ve been there, done that, and (vitally) plan to, for a long, long time. They put their money, time, energy and resources where their mouths are, their paintbrushes where their heart is. They aren’t afraid to get dirty, and they aren’t afraid to commit to the long-haul.
Laura Armstrong is the founder of Work Of Heart; she has a degree in Film and English, and has travelled extensively, working with Canadian organization Global Youth Network. It was through her work with GYN that she travelled to Kenya to work with HIV positive women and children, and subsequently got in touch with UCRC (Ugunja Community Resource Centre), an NGO that, to quote its website, “acts as an umbrella organization for more than sixty local community groups including women, children, youth, farmers and people with disabilities.” Their motto is “Local Action Is Beautiful.” Casey Mundy, a Toronto-based publicist with a degree in Psychology, also worked with the Global Youth Network, where she worked in the Dominican Republic as well as Morocco.
There’s something inspiring about these two young Canadian women who, though completely aware of their position as privileged women living and working in the Western world, are moving past that definition and into that of a citizen of the world through their long-term commitments. They understand you can’t just build a school, pat yourself on the back, and walk away; in fact, they keep walking towards goals whose benefits are not immediate, but are profound, real, and offer long-term benefit to communities.
A Work Of Heart’s latest art event happens tomorrow night in Toronto. I recently exchanged ideas about the organization, and about the roads that intersect between art, aid, and advancement with Laura and Casey. Their answers make me want to continue following A Work Of Heart to see how their initiatives progress.
How did you become interested in aid and development issues?
Laura: During my undergrad at Wilfred Laurier University, I started to participate in volunteer trips abroad. I helped build a house in the Dominican Republic, volunteered in India with famine relief, Peru for Dangue fever prevention, and Kenya to work with women and children with HIV. Different cultures and world issues fascinate me. I want to continue working abroad and learn as much as possible.

Casey: I also became extremely interested in aid and development issues while a student at Wilfrid Laurier. I have spent time volunteering in Morocco and Dominican Republic. Working and living with the local people in another country is a very different experience than simply visiting that location and its renowned tourist destinations. You get to really know the place, the people, their way of life and their motivations when you immerse yourself in their lifestyle.

The main thing I hear and read is that Western-style gestures don’t help in implementing long-term change – that it’s feel-good-ism for the privileged. How much of this initiative is about the long-term?

Laura: We work with an organization called Living Positive Kenya (LPK) which is located in the Mathare Slum, the second largest slum in Aftrica. This NGO is a support group for women and children living with HIV. Mary Wanderi, who founded this NGO (and is currently Director of Living Positive Ngong), is a pervious social worker who had the heart-breaking job of going into the homes of women who have died and retrieving their children. After dealing with an overwhelming amount of HIV related deaths she decided she had to take action. She then created LPK.

Women can come to LPK to receive support and job training. These women are taught how to live positively while HIV positive. When implementing a development project abroad you need to involve the community as much as possible and think in advance about potential problems and not assume what they would be. Observation and long term planning is key in making a sustainable project. We agree that education is the most vital way to change the future of the LPK children and will give their mothers time to work while their children attend school. That is why this boarding school project is where we are investing our attention and resources.

Why did you create A Work Of Heart?

Laura: I want to be there for the long haul. I am not looking for the the international ‘feel-good-ism’ experience and to simply walk away. These women aren’t just a group we support- they are our friends. We work together to figure out what the deeper problems are in the slum and try to find solutions that work for them and their community. After my first trip to Kenya, I felt that the amount of money needed to upgrade the LPK daycare was something I could easily fundraise. Selling my art seemed like the best bet to raise that money in my spare time. I paint as a hobby so it was nice to have a reason to do it more often.

What role do you see for art in helping to create social change?

Laura: Artists in general have a lot of passion and are always looking for ways to push boundaries with their talent. A Work of Heart allows them to push a new boundary because their art can now physically change a life for the better. Art is impossible to define but can be best described as something that makes us feel less alone. We want to take this concept and broaden it beyond the painting. Through the selling of our art we can connect to people across the world who are in grave need. It’s not just about painting a great picture; it’s about ‘painting a better world.’

Casey: Art is a positive practice that crosses language barriers and can be experienced globally. Art is exciting because it can mean something different to different people and create an emotional response. There is no right or wrong way to paint or be involved with art. I think that this project exemplifies how one person really can make a difference and that visual art, along with all types of art, like music, dance, can have a global reach and connect the world.

How do you find artists?

Laura: Networking. I have friends who paint who know other artists. It has slowly been growing over the past year. People I have never met want to donate pieces to me because they love the concept. It’s a great feeling to see how other artists connect to it so quickly and so passionately.

How do you hope to expand Work Of Heart and its reach?

Laura: We have decided to push our goals and limits further each year. Last year we aimed to raise $1,000.00 and this year we want to raise $10,000.00. This is our first art show. We hope to have larger ones down the road and have more artists from the GTA involved. We have a deep connection to the women and children we work with in Kenya and want to help them build a sustainable community for their children and themselves.

Casey: I hope to continue to raise positive awareness for A Work of Heart through the media and help to build a solid base of supporters. I am passionate about this project and happy to pitch something I truly believe in.

A Work Of Heart Facebook page is here.

Download, Upload, Revolution

There was something about Rocky Dawuni’s thought about avoiding “preachiness” in Part 1 of this exchange that hit me as both amusing and wise; there are few things more annoying or off-putting than pure polemic in a song. I like a bit of poetry throw in for good measure -that’s just a personal taste thing.

But the busy singer-songwriter hit on something profound, political, and poetic when he wrote a song called “Download This Revolution“. Though he could’ve never anticipated the way social media would be used in Egypt to oust a President, the song shows a clear understanding of the ways technology is influencing people’s lives, particularly within his home country of Ghana. There’s a clever taunt -perhaps a sly commentary -on the state of modern culture and the power of people’s politics, too, as Rocky smoothly croons “upload this / download this… ” -as if sharing information, the miniscule pieces of data that come together across wires and networks and form “likes” and groups and tweets, is this generation’s sit-in, march, loud chant, and noisy protest. People can take to their mobiles or keyboards, and… change the world. At least sometimes.

Like the rest of the songs on Hymns For The Rebel Soul (Aquarius), it’s thought-provoking, groovy, and wise, all at once. The NAACP Image Awards happen tonight, and Rocky’s nominated for Outstanding World Album. We recently traded ideas about the themes in his work, tackling difficult subject matter, and integrating technology within organic musical sounds.

What’s the theme of Hymns For The Rebel Soul?

The theme of this album was to create an inspirational collection of songs that offered a spiritual and melodic snapshot of various cultures around the world. The album reflects on themes ranging from love, life, God and peace beyond war.

What’s your method for integrating soul and real-world issues? “Jerusalem” is a beautiful example of this integration: it tells a story of a conflicted region but is very soulful and poetic at the same time. How difficult was this song to do?

I basically submit to the feel and vision of the song and let it lead me to its final manifestation. This method allows me to combine the real world issues with soul. It’ s basically letting myself be inspired by my own unique observation. “Jerusalem” was written from the first wave of inspiration when I set my foot in the Holy City. There was a certain mysterious beauty about this place that I felt made it the spiritual crossroads for major religious faiths but elusively out of reach for any particular faith to possess. Its divinity lies within its power to provide spiritual refuge to all those willing to overcome their prejudice and submit to its magic…I opened my he art to it and the song came pouring out. It was a very special and effortless moment .

“Download This Revolution” is a fascinating start to the Hymns For The Rebel Soul: it addresses a technological bridge between change, access, and art. Why was it was important to open the album with it?

The song represents our current times so it was an appropriate tone setting song for the album. We are the first generation of the ongoing internet revolution and “Download the Revolution” touches on the issue of equalization of the playing field : the emergence of an age where technology will fuel drastic social changes. The old doors that used to keep mass consciousness from coming into the mainstream will be circumvented while outdated and oppressive political systems fall to the tech-fueled people’s revolution.

I believe there is already evidence of this in the current internet-inspired democratic movements sweeping across Tunisia, Egypt and other parts of the world. The thing about change is that it can be either positive or negative. The song calls for the forces of good to seize the moment and take charge of all the mechanisms of this transformation.

How challenging is it to integrate traditional organic sounds with electronic ones?

Well personally I believe having the options of both approaches gives me flexibility to be creative and push boundaries. Live instrumentation definitely bring s that organic feel to music and it’s my first approach before I mix electronic sounds . Some songs work better when you approach them from the electronic perspective as well.

In the long run it all boils down to the artist and their objective. Organic sounds never get outdated so I personally use that as the basis for my creations.

If you could work with any artist, who would it be, and why?

It will be Lauryn Hill because her songs have such amazing emotional and spiritual depth!

Painted portrait of Rocky Dawuni (top) by John Robertson, from his blog What Art Did He Make Today?

Rocky’s Hymn

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about art and issues, and where the two -if the two -should intersect. Some say no, others say yes. I’m on the fence about whether the arts can and should, to quote a favorite musical, “take on the world’s greatest problems, from war to pollution / no hope of solution” -but I keep asking, could culture possibly provide one? Not a day goes by that I don’t happily stumble across one organization or another doing good in blending arts and social issues. And yet, I’m left feeling curiously powerless myself most days, wondering why I should have to choose between twin passions and asking if there might be a larger role in bridging the two through 2011.

Rocky Dawuni might have a few answers, for me, and for the many others grappling the arts/issues divide -because he doesn’t see a divide at all. The Ghana-born singer-songwriter’s 2010 release Hymns For The Rebel Soul (his fifth album) seamlessly, seemingly-effortlessly blends the two, with reggae-and-dance-tinged music delivering a one-two punch of sage wisdom, righteous rage, and ultimately, tuneful grace. Dawuni especially references the work of Bob Marley (to whom he’s been compared) and Peter Tosh, artists who, like him, blended the world of art with the world of the personal with … the world.

Rocky caught mainstream attention when he recorded a version of Bob Marley’s “No More Trouble” for Playing For Change in 2009 with a raft of talented international musicians, including the Oneness Choir from India, Jason Tamba from Congo, David Broza from Israel, and… oh yes, one Bono Vox from Ireland (aka Bono). The original’s moody, haunting feel gets a global makeover, as artists cross borders mental, spiritual, physical, and even creative to form something altogether more powerful than any collaboration project might suggest. This past summer, Rocky’s bouncy tune “African Reggae Fever” became “African Soccer Fever” and was featured on the FIFA World Cup 2010 soundtrack alongside tracks from Baaba Maal, Florence and the Machine, and Michael Franti. The tune also became the official song for the FIFA World Cup 2010 video game. Put it on as a dare to anyone who says they can’t dance; within 30 seconds, I guarantee you, they’ll be pogoing on the lino, cutting up a rug, and doing the watusi like no one’s business.

Alas, I missed meeting Rocky when he was in Toronto last fall Rocky to be part of the We Day event and concert, organized by Free The Children. But I’ve no doubt he rocked the worlds of the 18,000 students who were present. 2010 was a busy year indeed: months before We Day, he was part of the Vatican-sponsored JOSPfest, and later on, he played the well-regarded Freedom Fest in San Diego. 2011 is shaping up to be busy too; at the end of March he’s off to Kenya for Songambele 2011, put on by NGO March Forth Kenya Kids. He’s on the Board of Advisors for Jammin Java Corporation. In July he’ll be playing the Hollywood Bowl as part of radio station KCRW‘s Global Soul show -with none other than Stevie Wonder.

Now, you’d think a guy this busy wouldn’t have time for social media. You’d be wrong. Throughout the tours, appearances, and recording sessions, Rocky’s maintained an active online presence that positively (and I mean that in a true sense) brims with inspiration and excitement. It’s heartening to see his regular tweets & Facebook updates -not only is he excited about music, he’s excited about meeting people, hearing cool new sounds, exchanging ideas. Rock is excited about life, and it shows. When I interviewed him last summer for a morning radio show in Toronto, he was deep in the throes of football fandom, cheering on his home team as he fielded non-stop calls from friends and relatives. This is a man who deeply understands the meaning of “joie de vivre” and harnesses that optimism for a greater good.

That good was recognized with a prestigious nomination; Rocky’s up for the Outstanding World Album at this year’s NAACP Image Awards, which happen tomorrow night in Los Angeles. The first part of our conversation, below, features his ideas on the responsibilities of the artist, the dangers of preaching in music, and how much he feels like a spokesman for contemporary issues affecting everyday Ghanians.

How much do you think musicians should feature social issues in their work?

Well, I think every artist has the right to express whatever they feel their art truly represents. When it comes to social issues, every additional voice can always be useful. The platform that a musician acquires is due to the projection and support of the public so I believe the artist has a moral obligation to wield this with a spirit of humility, gratitude and servitude. It also goes a long way when you give back.The art attains transcendence and realness.

In terms of music and politics, there is definitely a link. Whenever the music ventures to represent the everyday aspirations of people it intersects with everyday politics. In Africa most of us have a bigger responsibility to use the medium to articulate political issues and bring them to the fore of social discussions.

How much do you feel a responsibility to include social issues in your work in particular?

Growing up in Ghana, social issues are a constant part of everyday reality. My music strives to project these issues in a way that will inspire action among my audience.

I think it ‘s the core intent of my musical mission but the important thing is to always maintain a balance so as to avoid blatant preachiness.

How much did the Playing For Change collaboration change your career?

It definitely did, in so many ways. It gave me great exposure and also showed the power of music to cross all boundaries and nationalities.

Do you ever get bothered by outside perceptions about Africa?

On occasions yes I do get bothered. For example, when you meet folks who believe they have it all figured out about Africa solely on the western perspective without any knowledge of the cultural contexts.

Africa’s history is very complicated . The root causes of most current political and social challenges can be traced all the way to its history of slavery, tribalism, colonialism and modern schisms. The objective of my music and my work is to project the new Africa: an Africa whose greatness will be restored by a renewed engagement and reconnection with the diaspora . This new Africa will embrace all the promise of modern technologies and democracy while upholding its cultural identity.

Although the current political climate is rife with turmoil and unprecedented economic issues, I am part of an emerging conscious tech-savy intellectual generation who are rising in its wake.

How much do you feel like a spokesman for Ghana?

Well, it comes with the territory. There are so many great things to say about my country in terms of its functioning democracy and freedom of press. Ghana’s long term stability has also projected it as a shining example on the continent.

As a musician on the international stage, I always find myself in many instances playing the role of its spokesperson. It’s a role I always welcome!
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Part two of my conversation with Rocky Dawuni tomorrow, in anticipation of the NAACP Image Awards. We’ll be focusing on some of the tunes featured on “Hymns for the Rebel Soul” and Rocky’s methods of integrating soulful sounds and real-world issues.

Mukra, Inshallah

As with Part One of this feature, fate kindly provided me with the perfect intro for the next part of my Q&A with Project Diaspora co-founder and photographer Teddy (TMS) Ruge. The past week’s momentous events in Egypt are astonishing, inspiring, overwhelming, and frankly… past all the puny adjectives I can muster.

Past that astonishment, one of the first things I wondered was, how will this affect the rest of the continent? As politicians and pundits wring their hands (rightly) over the effect the Egyptian revolution will have on the Arab world, I sat this past Friday afternoon, squinting at the television, and wondering how it’ll affect the African one. Media outlets love to treat Africa as one big blob, not particularly differentiating between people, culture, customs, language, and histories. Right now it feels like so many are forgetting that Egypt, for all its ties to the Arab world, is still in Africa, its culture very much very much a demonstration of an artistic and historical fluidity not specifically tied to geographic regionalism.
The effects of what’s unfolded across Egypt will unquestionably be felt just as much in the Sub-Saharan part of the continent as they will in the sandier regions of the Mediterannean. One blog post from Nancy Birdsall at the Center For Global Development does a good job of introducing ideas around how events in Egypt might affect various governments and development organizations, specifically within an African context. Hopefully we’ll see a great examination of this as the weeks unfold.
With all that in mind, I present the second part of my chat with the ever-indefatigable, super-accomplished Mr. Ruge. He thoughtfully addresses the “Africa-as-a-big-amorphous-continent” perception that’s is sometimes frustratingly perpetuated by media and popular culture in North America, and he also explores the reasons behind his starting Villages In Action, an idea that was born, interestingly, on the ashes of another idea called TEDx Poor.
Now, you might recall I interviewed one of the co-founders of TEDx Toronto last fall about the reasons behind starting an outpost locale for the immensely popular TED series of talks. Dig a little bit into TED, note the participants in those videos online, and draw your own conclusions (or big question marks) about why TEDx Poor didn’t work; you may understand Ruge’s reasons for choosing to reject the TED model -or not. It’s all up to you – kind of like the way you view events -revolutionary, quiet, virtual -halfway across the world. They’re always a bit closer than you might think.
Why do you think Africa is referred to as a whole, and to Africans as one giant collection of peoples and perceived problems by some North American media outlets?


Because it easier to say Africa than to name 53 countries or make the distinction between North Africa and where the sub-Saharan states begin. It’s that place over there full of famine, hunger, genocide, and militaristic genocide. To isolate a country. After all, isn’t one poor malnourished African as true as the next? What’s it matter what country they are from? They are from Africa, aren’t they?

I am not really sure how we got stuck with that homogenous identity, but if anyone is going to change it, we have to do that and demand that our voices beheard. Each individual nation has to stand up and say, “our identity counts” and defend their country’s right to exist, not simply as an afterthought, but as an integral part of a whole. You don’t simplify Europeans into one description or all of North America as Americans. Mexicans and Canadians have a problem with that. So why should we be ok with simply being African?

How does VIA aim to correct (or gently adjust) these perceptions?
The VIA platform helps to break down some of those misconceptions. (VIA presented) one particular Ugandan after another standing up and saying, “Hey, wait a minute. I am not poor just because you label me as poor. I may have less, but I am content. And like all people, rich and poor. I am struggling just like you are.”

I was happy the conversation wasn’t about this conference in Africa. Instead, it was a conversation about village voices in Kikuube, Uganda being heard. Purposefully, a very specific place on a map. We put a very particular dot on the map of Africa with video, and pictures. We put real live faces and voices to the generally accepted stats and figures.

As the platform grows, I hope it is not a “gentle” nudge, I hope it is a five-fingered slap in the face of the status quo: Hey look over here, we can express ourselves, and oh look, we are not all sitting around in poverty, genocide and helplessness waiting for knights in shinning white SUVs to come and rescue us. We can and are doing that for ourselves thank you very much.

Why do you think TEDx Poor fell through? Why do you think its model didn’t work for what you wanted to accomplish?


TEDx Poor fell through because it had to in order for Villages In Action to be born. My frustration was with TED’s restrictive terms on what and how one could hold the event; TED turned out to not really address what I wanted to achieve. At Project Diaspora, we are about elevating those Africans that are doing for Africa in hopes that it’ll inspire other Africans to do more. TEDxPoor didn’t really lend itself to supporting that really. It would have been yet another Western platform that Africa was being forced to adapt.

On reflection, perhaps “poor” didn’t suit their tastes. For me it was a jab at the faceless individuals that the CGI and the UN MDG summits kept referring to but were never handed the microphone. I think the VIA platform does a much better job of dispelling that label.

I spoke at TEDx Kigali and I got a feeling that the model was a little restrictive. Perhaps it was the location, or the way I delivered my talk. But, I don’t think anyone was expecting me to me as brazen as I was going after politicians in their failings to address our woefully inadequate education systems across the continent. And I purposefully went over my 20-minute time limit because I had a point to make and I wasn’t done.

As I’ve said before, TED has a highly successful platform in its own right, but we needed to run with our own map, in-line with our home-grown solutions. No more top-downism. And I hope that VIA is one of those home-grown solutions that does make a difference.

Artists. Period.

After trying desperately -and unsuccessfully -to think up a suitable introduction for this blog, voila… The New York Times did it for me.

The grey lady of print featured an article relating to a highly contentious art exhibit in Zimbabwe. I had read the piece recently, but stupidly hadn’t bookmarked it for a second go-through. When I wanted to find it again, I looked, naturally, under the Arts section. And kept looking. And looking. A meticulous comb through the Art and Design section produced a frustrating zero. Forty minutes of fruitless searching came and went, and then, finally, I found it -in the Africa section. Because why would an Arts story that happens in Africa be classified as anything other than “African news“?

Teddy (TMS) Ruge is working to change this perception, one story at a time. Born in Uganda and educated in North Texas, Teddy’s impressive online presence, including his dedicated work with Project Diaspora and Villages in Action, has played a huge (dare I say life-changing) role in opening up my eyes to the complex realities surrounding trade, development, and the outmoded, dangerous perceptions of Africa as a gigantic, monolithic continent of pain, suffering, AIDS and poverty.
Along with running a photography and design business, Ruge has an indigenous farmers’ business in Masindi, Uganda, and also advises a women’s jewelry-making co-operative in Kampala. I never fail to be astonished and inspired by his activities, whether it’s blogging, tweeting, or even interacting and commenting on others’ posts. I’ve had the pleasure of exchanging ideas with Teddy and have always been compelled by the thoughtfulness of his responses. The ones below, on the role of the arts in development, are no exception.
But a confession of sorts is in order before getting down to business. This blog has taken a long time to produce, partly because I was toying with the idea of starting another development-focused blog centering on women’s issues (something close to my heart), and partly because I worry about being seen as tokenistic in my interest. But I realize, after much soul-searching (that, I should add, is ongoing), it’s my wish to blend my passion for the arts with my passion for development issues.
And so it was that Teddy and I exchanged thoughts about the role of the arts in bringing about change. I’m going to post our discussion in two parts, because there are so many good ideas here, and it’s worth digesting them all fully. See what you think about what’s being said. You might look at those charity singles -and that big, monolithic thing we North Americans think of as “Africa” – a bit differently afterwards. You’ll want to know more about artists like Fred Mutebi too. I fully expect to see his name in the Arts section in future, by the way -him, and his fellow artists. Because that’s precisely where they belong.

 

The arts is my passion, as you know, and I was thinking a lot lately about culture’s connection with social issues: artists’ roles in trying to instigate change, if artists should feel compelled to make their work political, what kind of responsibility exists to their communities.

It leads me to question what role art might play as it specifically relates to the work you do with Project Diaspora.

I think artists are unnecessarily encumbered by social issues, and they bend towards that will for fear of not being accepted anymore. They are turned into mouth-pieces and spokespersons when their greatest weapon of choice should have been their unadulterated interpretation of what art is through their chosen medium.

Some artists choose social commentary as their subject matter, like Fred Mutebi here in Uganda. Others choose to be unbending in their adherence their artistic style like Bjork, Radiohead and hopefully Uganda’s Maurice Kirya.
I think the best thing artists can do is continue to focus on being the best you can be at your chosen medium of expression. Don’t be something you are not because you are looking to score cool points. It is okay if you are a movie star and you do a piece that highlights the plight of a marginalized population of the human race, but I think it is going too far if you are all of a sudden packing heat in Haiti, and trying to make a difference because you are trying to feel good about yourself. Some things aren’t your responsibility.

We had student performances at our first Villages In Action conference. Their piece dealt with the cultural perception of polygamy and its effect on children and their education. The kids did a really good job of expressing the current socio-economic pressures placed on the balance between tradition and the demands of modernity. It was topical and relevant, where as the band that performed later that evening was purely entertainment and added little to the topical conversation.

Why do you think there’s a Western insistence to keep referring to Africa as a whole, and to Africans as one giant collection of peoples and perceived problems?

Because it easier to say Africa than to name 53 countries or make the distinction between North Africa and where the sub-Saharan states begin. It’s that place over there full of famine, hunger, genocide, and militaristic genocide. Isn’t one poor malnourished African as true as the next? What does it matter what country they are from? They are from Africa, aren’t they?

I am not really sure how we got stuck with that homogenous identity, but if anyone is going to change it, we have to do that and demand that our voices be heard. Each individual nation has to stand up and say, “Our Identity Counts” and defend their country’s right to exist, not simply as an afterthought, but as an integral part of a whole.

You don’t simplify Europeans into one description or all of North America as Americans; Mexicans and Canadians have a problem with that. So why should we be ok with simply being African?
How do you think art can help to improve the economic development and social welfare of the community?

From an artistic stand point, I think it is important to show that those called to be artists are still able to create even without the access, the privilege, or the fancy tools. We had a kid that had a full-size replica of a motorcycle. I asked him what he needed to keep creating. He said, “I need an engine to put in there.”

This was topical social commentary on how life was going on around him. Because of economic development brought on by subsistent farmers turning to commercial sugar cane farming – a lot more of them were buying motorcycles.

As mentioned before, Fred Mutebi has great woodcut pieces that are basically two-dimensional documentaries on various social subjects. If VIA had happened in his village, I would have loved to have him give a talk about the life he documents.

____

The next blog with Teddy will feature more of Teddy’s thoughts on the West’s perceptions of Africa, how Villages In Action (which happened last November) might help to change ideas around development there, and why TED isn’t always as welcoming to new ideas as you might think. Stay tuned.

 

Healing

Music has played a large role in my life lately. In the weeks leading up to the Grinderman show last week, I interviewed Laila Biali, Micah Barnes, and James Di Salvio (Bran Van 3000) about their respective new releases, received the new album from the fabulously-rockin’ Preachers Son, and have been diving headfirst into the work of recently-deceased composer Henryk Gorecki. I’m also been looking into attending more live shows, trying to get more familiar with the massive Sondheim catalogue, and preparing for the Einsturzende Neubaten concerts here in Toronto next month.

Amidst all of this, the gorgeous, babbling trumpet of Hugh Masekela has been reigning like some supreme being, dancing and swirling with magical silvery notes and the soft-sheen of hand-claps and rising voices. Masekela’s music is rich but spacious at the same time, and he gives a show like no other; his warm smile and funky dance moves leaves a trail of inspiration, and I think I can say with some confidence now that seeing him here a few weeks back marked the beginning of my musical renaissance of late.

It was a miserable Saturday night when Masekela came to Toronto to complete his latest North American tour. Cold rain fell hard and noisy across the concrete slabs and high scaffolding dotting the city-scape. Crowds huddled together under the tiny awnings outside restaurants and shops, barely daring the wind and the wet, and I arrived at Koerner Hall with pant legs soaked and in a slightly chilly mood. The new space put me somewhat at ease, though. The architecture is so… pretty, all glass angles and soft colours and grand open spaces. The hall has been creatively fused with the rambling old architecture of the old Royal Conservatory building, a place I shuddered to enter as a child.

It was in the fusty old Conservatory building that I would take my dreaded yearly piano exams, and it’s there I have an ashen collection of singed musical memories. Between the glaring, smile-adverse examiners, the creaky floors, the yellowed keys of ancient pianos, and the sheer terror of waiting outside a closed door as piano-playing way, way better than mine emanated from within, it’s a spot I was convinced I’d always despise. It’s no exaggeration to state that the Conservatory system pounded out whatever sonic creativity I had in favour of more rigorous, “proper” sounds. Stop fooling around, play what’s in front of you, technique over emotion, no improvising allowed, ever. Don’t do that to Bach/Beethoven/unheard-of-people-I-didn’t-give-a-toss-about-anyway! Hardly worth mentioning: I don’t play the piano anymore.

The building itself, which I remember as a fusty, cold, old space, has been fused with something warmly modern and welcoming; the regal (if equally cozy) Koerner Hall has top acoustics, comfy seats, and a nice smattering of old instruments in the basement, museum-style. Along with featuring Masekela that particular night, the Hall also hosts classical concerts (duh) a well as local groups like the excellent Art of Time Ensemble. Next year’s lineup includes jazz, Indian sounds, and blues shows. That eclecticism is a great reflection of not only the city, but the approach the Royal Conservatory is now taking to shape the nature of cultural experience in the 21st century. It’s not all poe-faced, serious, miserable, head-down-and-shut-up-ness stuff. Gosh, I almost wish I was playing piano again. Almost.

So what to say about Masekela? The term “legendary musician” feels incredibly trite for someone so multi-talented. Human rights crusader, politician, artistic ambassador, showman, loverman… where to begin? With a mellow touch, of course. Hugh and his five-man band gave one of the most beautiful concerts I’ve ever seen. Liberally mixing old and new favorites, Masekela proved himself a master of many sounds and emotions, from the sexy growls of his famous trumpet to yowling imitations of a steam whistle, and even to his funky dancing, Masekela proved he’s a supreme entertainer and musician of the highest order.

With the accompaniment of a strong, intuitive five-man band, Masekela worked the crowd with a gentle wit and highly watchable style. He took the time to include Toronto in his roll-call of cities in “The Boy Is Doin’ It”, and chatted to the audience with much familiarity and warmth, easily blending humour and politics. Between quick comments on the rainy weather (which seemed, to my ears, to be a chide to the numerous latecomers) and amusing references to the G20 debacles of earlier this year (“I hope we’re safe here?”), Masekela appeal to the collective conscience of his spellbound audience, wondering aloud if the natural calamities of this year were the result of the Mother Nature taking revenge against an ignorant populace. He then spoke about the history of “Stimela (Steam Train)”, how it referenced South African coal mines, and how the numerous troubles of his home continent require the world’s attention.

“Stimela” is a powerful evocation of time, place, and circumstance, and its live version was a wholly moving blend of sound effects, native South African rhythms and … frankly, rock and roll. I couldn’t help but think of how much the middle instrumental section resembled various favorite rock tunes (especially favorite live tunes), and I marveled at this spry, funny, smart, accomplished 71-year-old for being able to channel so many different energies and styles simultaneously, via his innate, if finely-honed ability to integrate dance, voice, and presence.

But perhaps that’s the special magic of Hugh Masekela. The second half of the program was chalk-full of fun, upbeat numbers, which inspired much dancing of the onlookers in the cheapie seats, located directly behind the stage. There was something wholly encouraging about watching the skinny-tied/ironically-bearded/thick-framed-glasses hipster set sway, swivel, and shake to the earthy, sexy sounds of “Happy Mama” and the famous “Grazin’ in the Grass” (which he played at the 2010 FIFA World Cup). Music makes the people come together indeed. Masekela and his band acknowledged the dancers as well as the numerous audience members familiar with his numerous references to South African culture. During “Kauleza” Masekela instructed us to call back the song’s title (which translates to “Police!”), noting it was what he and his siblings would shout growing up in illegal drinking establishments. “You’re not shouting loud enough!” he chided, “The police are coming!” My favorite moment was during the legendary Fela Kuti song “Lady”, when Masekela imitated a haughty woman, shaking his hips, pursing his lips, cocking an eyebrow. It was a hilarious, playful blend of satire and musical mastery, and completely spellbinding.

Indeed, the whole evening seemed to be a balm to soothe my awful Conservatory memories. Musicality takes all kinds of forms, of course, but it’s hard to flush bad energies away in one go. Attending Masekela’s concert in my old horror-movie stomping grounds felt like a good first step toward creative musical rehab. 2011 could be the year of Koerner Hall, both for me and many others seeking the kind of inspiration -and liberation -only music can provide.

Over. Due.

Pardon my lack of updates lately. In the midst of mad searching for full-time paid communications work, I’ve had to take on what I’m terming a “joejob” and it’s been very draining to balance that with eagle-eyed job investigating and applying, radio interviewing, and creative pursuits.

A good friend of mine called my return to the joejob a form of graciousness, referencing a beautiful compliment I received on Twitter a few weeks back, in fact. Aw. It doesn’t feel gracious, however; the entire experience is rather more grinding, humiliating, and energy zapping. I have to remind myself every day when I return home, cranky and haggard, that all of this energy expenditure pays off in the form of enablement: to be paid for my talents, and to not lose sight of what it is I really want to be (read: should be) making a living at. Blogging is, I’m coming to realize, a way of reinforcing that commitment and desire, and of fortifying my determination.

So, without further adue, a collection of things that have inspired me the last little while:

Busta Rhymes featuring Swizz Beatz – Stop The PartybyHypetrakI can’t say the sequel to Iron Man completely enthralls me though in all fairness, I haven’t seen it; I just know I’d rather see Robert Downey Jr. without all that metal. He could probably convince me he’s Tony Stark with just tin foil. (I wouldn’t mind borrowing that Iron Man suit to wear to the joejob, however.) I’m tossing around seeing the flick itself, which has garnered mainly good notices (and huge box office). The steampunk-meets-high-tech badass design of Mickey Rourke’s Whiplash might be the tipping point -and who am I kidding? Downey’s good medicine for the weary: if he can rise up, then… ! It’s fanciful, but don’t laugh -it’s also inspiring, kind of like this tune, “Stop The Party”, taken from the movie’s soundtrack. Bouncy and ballsy, it’s a good post-joejob pick-me-up and has some swish, snazzy production courtesy of cutie smarty-pants Swizz Beatz. Nicely done.

Bono and Bob Geldof edited Monday’s edition of The Globe and Mail. This has, as you might imagine, provoked a holy sh**storm of backlash, particularly online, where the blahblahblah-richrockstars-hype-hypocrites-how-dare-theys were out in full force since the announcement of their editorship happened last week. Yawn. I’m just happy it made for damn good reading, and gave voice to a range of activists, artists, and authors we don’t hear from enough in mainstream media, especially in daily North American print. Dear Newspapers Everywhere: do this kind of thing more often. Ignore the haters. It’s good for content, and, as evidenced by the Monday edition’s popularity, good for numbers. Please more.

Brian Eno is curating the Brighton Festival, and people really like it. No wonder. He’s brought a new kind of vision to a town that is hungry for unusual ideas and experiments. I’ve always found Eno a scary genius; when I met him many moon ago, I was so intimidated by his aura of… smart. A skilled, confident, razor-sharp kind of cutting intelligence surrounds him, and I barely got out my name, let alone my hand. Even now, the memory is vaguely chilling. It’s a testament to the residents of Brighton and the surrounding area that they’ve so openly embraced the sorts of brave things Eno has introduced, particularly in, around, and on their public spaces. Kudos to them, and kudos to him. But then, that goes without saying. Durrrrr.

Not all new ideas from respected artists are appreciated, however. Graffiti street sensation Banksy was in Toronto, and did a number of works that were later removed or painted over. The latest work to fall victim to a fellow street artist was a clever Banksy piece showing a man holding a sign that reads “Will Work For Idiots” (which I *cough* relate to); the piece was tagged (yes, tagged) over by a ballsy local. Valid? Invalid? I find the whole thing such a perfect symbol of the focused inward-turned narcissism of the city as to be laughable in a really sad, frustrating way. Torontonians are constantly told the city is “world-class” and “cosmopolitan” -labels I’ve consistently smirked at as they’ve become more widely used (and marketed, and swallowed whole). Really? Ha.

More smirking -but this time in a good way -over a piece in The Atlantic exploring the scary genius of Lady Gaga and her relationship with Pop. The piece takes apart her appeal as both a tastemaker and taste-buster simultaneously. This really, really captures the phenom of Gaga, though I have to admit, I was disappointed the writer (James Parker) didn’t mention Warhol, or later artistic counterparts that have so influenced one Ms. Germanotta. Maybe he were too distracted by the hat or the flaring bra.

Next up: musing on a new documentary about The Doors. When the music’s over… wait. It isn’t. Leave the damn light on.

Funny Friday

Between nibbles of knotted fruit bread and sips of green tea this morning, I came across this hilarious video, courtesy of Oxfam UK. It’s all about Kenyans raising money to support British theatre. Wearing ruffs in the fields are just a small part of the support; wait until you see the other costuming, banners, and building projects.

Taken from Scottish comedian Armando Iannucci’s comedy sketch show that aired on Britain’s Channel 4 in 2001, the episode also featured a promiscuous Priest and TV executives setting up a reality series in a Buddhist monastery. There’s no denying this video’s clever, creative spirit; it’s a kind of gentle mockery of the patronizing attitude that can go hand-in-hand with much aid effort to African nations. This excels at milking and mocking that patronage, showing how ridiculous it looks -and in fact, is -to all involved. You’ll be literally laughing out loud, even as you consider the brainy subtext. Excellent.

Linkalicious

Voila, Play Anon’s latest batch of neat cultural and human-interest stuff found through a week of online trawling. Enjoy, and please feel free to leave your own suggestions too.

Photographer Viviane Sassen captures a gorgeous Africa
. According to PLANET magazine, the fashion photographer’s work is “(n)ot quite haute couture, not quite documentary” but is “the result of directed African pilgrimages. (They) fall into an enigmatic category incorporating personal memory, imperialism, and sensual beauty.” The exhibit, on now through April 10th at Danziger Projects in New York City, is the photographer’s first American exhibition and incorporates images from past series based around the cultures and peoples of Ghana, South Africa, Zambia, Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania. Beautiful stuff.

Photographer Izabella Demavlys documents scarred lives in her latest series. The former fashion photographer took pictures of women in Pakistan who survived acid attacks in Without A Face; she also document their family time with Saira. In an interview with Eyeteeth, she explains her move away from the world of fashion, to a wider definition of beauty:

One of the reasons I shifted over from fashion photography was its conceptualized views of women. I came to a point where I couldn’t work in that environment anymore….nor did my work change perceptions, behaviors, or engage the viewer in any issues. I simply fueled the fashion world with more images of young women who would represent what I believe is a distorted idea of beauty.

It’s so encouraging to see Demavlys actually living the old adage, of being the change she wants to see in the world. She has a real artist’s eye for the female face, combined with an unerring love for her subjects. Inspiring.

Zimbabwean artist Owen Maseko has been arrested. His crime? Daring to question the government in his latest exhibition of graffiti work, 3D installations, and paintings. Artist Voti Thebe, who is also the director of the National Gallery where Maseko exhibited his work, was also arrested. Maseko’s own website is here. I’m angry and disappointed this didn’t make bigger news, or garner outrage from fellow artists in North America; Maseko and Thebe are both hugely talented and they truly deserve every bit of support here.

Photographer Matthias Heiderich captures a colourful Berlin. Despite rising rents and a rapidly homogenizing “underground” culture, I’m still sensing the weird, wonderful, experimental Berlin of old through Heiderich’s beautiful shots contained in his series, Color Berlin. Anyone else?

A moving collection of photographs captures seven years of war in Iraq. March 19th marked the seventh anniversary of the invasion of Iraq; the Denver Post has an incredible compilation of photos that are tragic, heartening, funny, sad, infuriating, inspiring, and will, frankly, give you a whole new appreciation of the art of photojournalism, and the resiliency of those who do it.

English artist Antony Gormley gets spacey in his latest New York exhibit. Gormley’s bio describes his work as “a radical investigation of the body as a place of memory and transformation” and the exhibit, Breathing Room II (running at the Sean Kelly Gallery in New York City through May 1st) takes those notions and uses you, the viewer, as a prime subject. Heady, fascinating, and ultimately revealing about the comfy, pre-conceived notions we hold about space and time.

The Art Gallery of Ontario is featuring the concept of time too. Running through August 1st in Toronto, Sculpture as Time: Major Works. New Acquisitions features a bevvy of international artists’ works including that of Tino Sehgal, whose last exhibit at the Guggenheim caused a stir about the role of performance art in the 21st century. Prepare to re-think ideas and preciously-held beliefs. In other words, you may get uncomfortable -which is sometime a good thing. Right?

Loopy (pun unintended) Frenchman Sebastien Tellier has a cheeky (pun intended) new video out to commemorate the tenth anniversary of stylish French music label Recordmakers. This video really makes me want to pick up line drawing again. Surreal, funny, sexy… I see Bunuel smiling at this one. Nice tune too.

Man writes Shakespeare anagrams, s=l=o=w=l=y. No, it isn’t a joke. K. Silem Mohammad, a published poet and professor, is using a painfully meticulous process based around anagrams whereby he’ll render all 144 of the Bard’s sonnets into new expressions of poetry. So far, he’s finished 68. I like that he’s into both traditional, metered poetry, as well as the “collage” approach. Re-defining the definitions is what keeps art -and life -interesting.

This week: Posts on Hot Docs, Spectacle: Elvis Costello With… , the latest Daniel Lanois video, and more food features and recipes. Happy last-week-of-March!

 

Linkalicious

Fearless: Legendary photojournalist and cameraperson Margaret Moth has passed away at the age of 59. Moth was known for being gutsy and for leading her fellow crew into places other journalists feared to tread. As she explains in the video on the link page, she didn’t have a death wish, but rather, fiercely loved her life and her chosen profession. No kidding. Her jaw got blown off when she was covering the Bosnian War in 1992 and she had to have extensive facial and oral reconstruction. But off she went, back to work -work that took her to the West Bank, and into more dangerous situations. Moth’s dedication and passion are truly inspirational to me, and I’d imagine, to many others.

Paint It Orange: Artists in Detroit are painting derelict houses. Why? Well… why not? As well as bringing attention to the jaw-dropping economic disparity in Detroit, the work brings a kind of joie de vivre and creative, improvisatory to areas that badly need that kind of play. The spirit of openness is infectious too; as the artists explain, the projects lead to opportunities and area regrowth. Yes, artists can make a difference. Thanks to Good Magazine and Halogen TV for a truly good story.

Speaking of which: Bono attended the Pan African Media Conference last week in Nairobi. Yes, I know there’s a lot of strong opinions out there about his involvement in world issues and his passionate activism, but as a user named ewangu commented on this (Kenyan) post, “At least he is trying, he has the influence and resources…. someone has to!!!” I’ve always seen his efforts less as patronizing and meddling, and more humanistic and matched to the old white-flag-waver of yore (minus the mullet). Would North Americans (much less CNN) have paid attention to the Pan African Media Conference without his presence? Debate amongst yourselves.

Ring Ring: Teddy Ruge of Project Diaspora was in Austin, Texas last week, taking part in the Africa 3.0 conference at South by Southwest. In the video clip below, he says that “aid agencies do great job perpetuating the model of ‘Africa needs aid'”, echoing an argument made last year by Dambisa Moyo.

Ruge, who is critical of the One Laptop Per Child program, notes that “those of us in Diaspora are starting to wake up to the fact that we have the power to make a difference in Africa -by starting social entrepreneurship programs. Hopefully we can create a wave of change that can have Africans taking responsibility for Africa as opposed to looking to the West constantly for assistance. It’s time we started providing solutions for ourselves.” One of those solutions is via mobile technology, something software developer (and Appfrica CEO) Jonathan Gosier compellingly explores. As he writes, “Africa doesn’t default to the mobile device because they want to, they do it because it’s useful for them.”

Mali Cool: A exhibit by Malian photographer Malick Sidibe is on now through March 26th at the Bekris Gallery in San Francisco. Titled “Other Africa”, Sidibe’s shots capture a time in 1960s/70s Western Africa that, frankly, is dead cool-looking -full of gorgeous people dancing and having fun. It’s so far from the stereotypical image of Africa that North Americans are fed -which is important -but his work also shows an incredible eye for shape, form and detail. You can tell why his studio became a popular hangout for the beautiful people in the 70s too. I hope this show tours. I want to see these prints in-person.

Not useful but fun: Here’s an entertaining list of ten inspiring mash-ups/remixes/ re-envisionings compiled in the New York Times’ Arts Beat blog. I was particularly moved by the 3D version of Guernica set to the music of Manuel de Falla by artist Lena Gieseke; going behind, through, an around Picasso‘s figures is a surreal, if very immediate way to experience his work in a brave new way. I love the Obama/McCain Dance Off too (I wonder if the Health Care Vote hostilities could be resolved this way…). The Sinatra/B.I.G. mash-up beat-filled ode to New York is also affecting, not just for its balls-out bravado and macho swagger, but for the sad reminder that both its artists -so symbolic of the Big Apple in their own times -aren’t with us anymore.

Art+Trash Squared: Artist Justin Gignac takes on New York City in a whole different way. He takes inspiration from trash -literally. The enterprising artist sticks city garbage in a sealed plastic cube and then sells it (for $50 each, in case you want one). Recycling? Smarmy post-pop culture commentary? Opportunism? All of the above? As Web Urbanist notes, “It’s a little bit Andy Warhol, a little bit street-corner-junk-hawker and a whole lot of kitsch, but it’s clearly a hit – over 1,200 NYC Garbage cubes have been sold to buyers in 25 countries.” Everyone wants a bite of the Big Apple -no matter how much it might hurt the teeth.

My Anansi moment: I’m one of the many people part of the current round of the Review Crew, the online review site for publishing powerhouse House of Anansi. Yay! The chosen book is award-winning author Pascale Quiviger‘s hauntingly gorgeous The Breakwater House; it’s been months since I finished reading this slim book, and I’m still thinking about it. You know it’s good when…

Coming up this week: pieces on the Toronto Jewish Film Festival, Hot Docs, and current theatre in Toronto, including Art, Oh What A Lovely War, and who knew grannie: a dub aria. I’ll also be posting about the delicious, inspiring links between Stratford, Ontario and the recent (and inspiring) food event, Terroir 4, that happened earlier this month. Oh, and tomorrow is World Water Day; to mark the occasion, I’m hoping to speak with Maude Barlow about a documentary she’s part of that airs this week on TVO. Whew! Hang loose, stay tuned, hang on, stay strong.

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