Church Uniforms

This summer, I noticed all the different uniforms women would wear on their way to church. Not everybody could afford a uniform, but when I went to mass, for example, there were women in these long white dresses (more fitted than a choir robe) with purple and gold sashes and head pieces. My sister Nomkhosi explained that that was their church uniform. You'd see women in blue or green or red uniforms, each associated with a different denomination. Here, for example, is a women who is a member of the Shembe church. (I bought two Shembe belts, one for my mother and one for me, which are similar in design to the headpiece she's wearing.)

Anyway, last night, I was reading Terence Ranger's classic piece on the invention of tradition in Africa and in a roundabout way, it explained the reason why church members would have a uniform. Because the colonial rulers were obsessed with defending their right to rule over the territories they had decided were theirs, and because settlers wanted to be seen as "gentleman farmers" or of the gentleman class, they became equally obsessed with inventing traditions and rituals. These rituals of political and military organizations were a show of power, a way of demonstrating superiority through ritual, a way of indicating class. And Africans caught on in their own way. They were excluded from many of these colonial rituals but they invented their own. Creating your own uniform for the church you belonged to was one method of including these rituals of power into your life.

Widow Basquiat, Gnarls Barkley, & Utter Utter Madness

I just finished reading "Widow Basquiat" by Jennifer Clement, a weird memoir-poetry-novel-thingie about the artist Jean Michel Basquiat's muse and lover, Suzanne Mallouk. It's a fascinating descent into the world of madness, money, heroin, and utter sexual abandon of the 1980s New York art scene. I didn't know a whole lot about Basquiat's artwork before (still don't, to be honest), but it's a tragedy that he made art for only a few short years before he died of a heroin overdose. One passage in the book depicted Basquiat as constantly living in symbol--everything he did, thought, or saw was not simply "symbolic" but carried, assumed, breathed, and embodied symbol: "Everything was symbolic to him. How he dressed, how he spoke, how he thought, who he associated with. Everything had to be prolific or why do it and his attitude was always tongue-in-cheek....He tried to make people notice him, wake them up, by using a symbol out of context. This occurred in his paintings and in his actions. He never took anything as it was" (p. 75). This is exemplified in a moment when he takes Suzanne to the Museum of Modern Art and sprinkles water all over the place to exorcise it because "there are no black men in museums" (p. 38): "It was really quite funny watching him sprinkle water everywhere, making sure the guards weren't watching....He did not think it was funny, though. Jean did it with great seriousness like a priest" (p. 40).

Suzanne cleaned up her act and became a doctor, specializing in substance abuse, especially heroin addiction. (I'm sure her 1980s self would be horrified). Here's a picture of the two of them together in the 1980s: http://www.brink.com/content/2031. And here's one of Basquiat's pieces: http://www.blackrobin.co.nz/ARCHIVE/vol1.2/SELLING/basquiat.jpg. I admit, when I read memoirs like this one, I confess to feeling like I'm too tame to be a true artist! Perhaps I'm just too tame to be a true artiste. ...

Speaking of "artistes" and madness: like everybody else, I'm truly in love with Gnarls Barkley's release "St. Elsewhere" and not just their song "Crazy." (Although if you check out the video for "Crazy" on YouTube, it is far more creative than anything I've seen out there in freaking forever. Oh, and "Crazy" was the first song I heard by Gnarls Barkley, this summer when I was in South Africa. I fell in love with it instantly.) But on the subject of madness, many of Gnarls's songs depict it in terms that you might ironically call poetic justice:

"I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind, There was something so pleasant about that place... Even your emotions had an echo in so much space. And when you're out there,without care, Yeah, I was out of touch. But it wasn't because I didn't know enough: I just knew too much ..." ("Crazy")

I love the indecision in these lyrics: "I prefer peace. Wouldn't have to have one worldly possession. But essentially I'm an animal. So just what do I do with all the aggression? ....Life is a one-way street. If you could paint it, I'd paint myself going in the right direction...But the truth is, I'm only guessing... It's even dark in the daytime. It's not just good, it's great depression. When I was lost I even found myself looking in the gun's direction. And so I've tried everything but suicide... but yes, it's crossed my mind. But I'm fine." ("Just a Thought")

St. Elsewhere depicts the isolation and beauty in madness: "Anywhere you sit you can see the sun. Unfortunately on this island I'm the only one. And same rules apply on a rainy day. Then it's not such a pretty place to be. It just rains and rains and rains on me....Way over yonder there's a new frontier. Would it be so hard for you to come and visit me here? I understand. Well, just send me a message in a bottle then, baby." ("St. Elsewhere")

My favorite song is probably Feng Shui : "And you're welcome to stay. But even your company must complement the Feng Shui....You see, I do not play. Forgive me Father, I was forced out of Feng Shui. A flow as subtle as a summer breeze. Like the whispering winds and the talking trees. Too big to be boxed in, it bobs and weaves. It evolves, it solves, it gives and receives. And everything I say is calculated, appropriated, written, and arranged in Feng Shui."

Okay, so it's not as if Gnarls Barkley isn't getting a whole shitload of attention lately, especially for a first release. But I can't help it. They appeal on all sorts of sensory levels.

Chris and I are going to see "Blood Diamond" tonight. Talk about madness. I'm hoping it's more than Hollywood hype. We were very careful not to purchase conflict diamonds for my engagement ring and our wedding bands...I hope this movie, rather than simply being a misrepresentation of Africa as so much of western media is, provokes people to action, the kind that cripples the diamond industry to the point of taking its own action.