I’m reading Cut ‘n’ Mix by Dick Hebdige, finally. I bought it at Subcultures, popular music and social change symposium at the London Metropolitan University about a week ago. I promise I’ll review the symposium soon or at least point at my favorites contributions.
I’d like to share an extract from the beginning of the book, from the chapter West African Roots, West Indian Flowers:
The Griots set out to make black Haitians proud of their African roots. They wanted Haitians to value being black instead of being ashamed by the fact. So they began glorifying all things African. No member of the griot group had in fact actually set foot in Africa, so they had to rely on ideas and images of Africa handed down to them by the white man. And of course many of these images were crude and inaccurate. They gave the impression that Africa was a savage place – inferior to Europe in every way – a “Dark Continent”.
and let it communicate with a text I’ve recently written for Zero about an event which happened in Milan last week titled Soul Kanaval. The line up included Jazzanova, J-Wow (Buraka Som Sistema) and a live “voodoo” set by Shackleton. Following the translated version – (mine, so it might not be that accurate) originally it’s been published in italian and can be found here:
Tonight I’d like to see and hear viciously nightmarish things. I’d like to see belzebu throwing his rope to take me close to him. I’d like to be pierced by his horns. Once and for all I want that a history which doesn’t belong to me will take possession of my body. The history is the one of the first black independent republic: Haiti. An ancient history which is celebrated every year in Jacmel, in the south part of the Island, during mardi gras festivities. I’m asking myself what would be of my expectations while listening to a set by Jazzanova juxtaposed to images from the book “Kanaval” (Leah Gordon) and “Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti” (Maya Deren), to whose is literally inspired the final party of Mito 2011 (a cultural season of concerts and events in Milan and Turin, ndt). I’m asking how the sound of J-Wow (Buraka Som Sistema) or the presence of ten performers can satisfy my tragic appetite for distress. Maybe only Shackleton will hunt me and I’ll fear his set as my worst nightmare. Maybe I’d like to be hypnotised by haitian ‘rara’ percussions, to feed my desire of authenticity. Maybe I don’t want a party, I want a rite which transcends the masks.
