Negri and Hardt are quite right that the current wave of revolts are 'sweeping away the racist conceptions of a clash of civilisations that consign Arab politics to the past. The multitudes in Tunis, Cairo and Benghazi shatter the political stereotypes that Arabs are constrained to the choice between secular dictatorships and fanatical theocracies' (Guardian, 11 February 2011).
But of course this image of 'Arab' politics could only ever have been sustained by a wilful ignorance of history. The radical, secular movements of the past in that part of the world have been airbrushed away, not only from mainstream narratives but from some leftist accounts in which recent North African and Middle Eastern history begins and ends with Israel/Palestine and the Gulf Wars. Everyone knows about Paris '68 but what about Tunisia?
Tunisia too had its 1968, and among those involved was Michel Foucault, who was teaching at the University of Tunis and living in Sidi Bou Said. Shortly after his arrival in Tunis in 1966 there had been a student strike and clashes with the authorities, sparked initially by a student's refusal to pay a bus fare. Student agitation reached a peak between March and June 1968, with a visit from the US Secretary of State Hubert Humphrey prompting riots with attacks on the British and US Embassies. The president levied a tax on every household in Tunis to pay for the riot damage.
Foucault recalled: 'there were student agitations of an incredible violence there... Strikes, boycotting of classes and arrests were to take place one after another for the entire year. The police entered the university and attacked many students, injuring them and throwing them into jail'. Foucault's support for the rebels included hiding a printing machine used for anti-government leaflets in his garden. At one point he was badly beaten up in an attack presumed to have been launched by plain-clothes cops. The whole experience had a radicalising effect on Foucault who said that he 'was profoundly struck and amazed by those young men and women who exposed themselves to serious risks for the simple fact of having written or distributed a leaflet, or for having incited others to go on strike. Such actions were enough to place at risk one's life, one's freedom and one's body'.
Foucault saw the global cycle of late 1960s struggles through the lens of his Tunisian experience, from which he drew wider conclusions:
'What was the meaning of that outburst of radical revolt that the Tunisian students had attempted? What was it that was being questioned everywhere? I think my answer is that the dissatisfaction came from the way in which a kind of permanent oppression in daily life was being put into effect by the state and by other institutions and oppressive groups. That which was ill-tolerated and continually questioned, which produced that sort of discomfort, was "power". And not only state power but also that which was exercised within the social body through extremely different channels, forms and institutions. It was no longer acceptable to be "governed" in a certain way. I mean "governed" in an extended sense; I'm not just referring to the government of the state and the men who represent it, but also to those men who organize our daily lives by means of rules, by way of direct or indirect influences, as for instance the mass media'.
The refusal to be 'governed in a certain way' has certainly been a feature of the current movements in Tunisia and elsewhere, just as it was forty years ago. Of course underneath there has also been the ongoing reality of poverty and dispossession, but the indignity of living under dictatorship and the attendant petty humiliations of daily life has been a key driver of rebellion. It is notable that the spark that lit the Tunisian revolt was the death of Mohamed Bouazizi, a Tunisian street vendor who set himself on fire on December 17 2010 in protest at the confiscation of his wares and harassment by officials.
So as in 1968 there has been a desire for freedom from oppressive regulations at a micro and macro level. But there has also been a desire, as Hardt and Negri put it, for 'a different life in which they can put their capacities to use', for freedom to realize human potential. As H&N put in Multitude: War and Democracy in the Age of Empire (2004): 'When we propose the poor as the paradigmatic subjective figure of labour today, it is not because the poor are empty and excluded from wealth but because they are included in the circuits of production and full of potential, which always exceeds what capital and the global political body can expropriate and control. This common surplus is the first pillar on which are built struggles against the global political body and for the multitude'. Today this 'surplus' and 'potential' are increasingly concrete as millions worldwide are consigned to the scrap heap by economic crisis, but 'power' is still what confronts those pushing for a better life.
A voice from today's Tunisia
Here's Head of State by Hamada Ben Amor (aka El General), a track that played a part in recent events in Tunisia. It directly addresses (now-ex) President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, with lyrics like:
Mr President, you told me to speak without fear
But I know that eventually I will take just slaps
I see too much injustice and so I decided to send this message even though the people told me that my end is death
But until when the Tunisian will leave in dreams, where is the right of expression?
They are just words ..
Tunis was defined the “green”, but there is only desert divided into 2,
it is a direct robbery by force that dominated a country
without naming already everybody knows who they are
much money was pledged for projects and infrastructure
schools, hospitals, buildings, houses
But the sons of dogs have already fattened
They stole, robbed, kidnapped and were unwilling to leave the chair.
He was arrested for his troubles in the early days of the rebellion, but is now out of jail and performing again (more background information and full lyrics at Hip Hop Diplomacy).
All Foucault quotes from Remarks on Marx: conversations with Duccio Trombadori (1991); additional information from David Macey, The Many Lives of Michel Foucault
(1994).
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Friday, March 04, 2011
Gadhafi, Dancing and the Communism of Movement
'A moderate revolution is a contradiction in terms, though a moderate putsch, coup or pronunciamento is not. However limited the ostensible aims of the revolution, the light of the New Jerusalem must shine through the cracks in the masonry of the eternal Establishment which it opens. When the Bastille falls, the normal criteria of what is possible on earth are suspended, and men and women naturally dance in the streets in anticipation of utopia' (Eric Hobsbawn, 'Thomas Paine', New Statesman, 1961)
'Do as you please. You are free to dance, sing, and celebrate in all squares throughout the night. Muammar Gadhafi is one of you. Dance, sing, rejoice' (Gadhafi, February 2011)
The festive character of the uprisings sweeping across North Africa and the Middle East has been widely noted (see previous post on Egypt). Just as Hobsbawn wrote of earlier revolutions, everything seems possible as the old regimes crumble and people have literally been dancing, as well as fighting, in the streets. In Libya at the moment it is the fighting that is dominant, hopefully victory and further celebrations won't be too far behind.
Strangely it was Gadhafi last week who called for dancing in the streets, just as his death squads were going into action across Libya. A desparate atempt to redirect the youthful energy of the uprising into a party for a murderous regime.
The festivities in Benghazi (Libya's second city, taken by the rebels), Cairo and elsewhere have had an entirely different character: not just dancing and singing together, but creating new social relations - what Alain Badiou has called 'a communism of movement':
“Communism” here means: a common creation of a collective destiny. This “common” has two specific traits. First, it is generic, representing, in a place, humanity as a whole. There we find all sorts of people who make up a People, every word is heard, every suggestion examined, any difficulty treated for what it is. Next, it overcomes all the substantial contradictions that the state claims to be its exclusive province since it alone is able to manage them, without ever surpassing them: between intellectuals and manual workers, between men and women, between poor and rich, between Muslims and Copts, between peasants and Cairo residents. Thousands of new possibilities, concerning these contradictions, arise at any given moment, to which the state — any state— remains completely blind.
'Do as you please. You are free to dance, sing, and celebrate in all squares throughout the night. Muammar Gadhafi is one of you. Dance, sing, rejoice' (Gadhafi, February 2011)
The festive character of the uprisings sweeping across North Africa and the Middle East has been widely noted (see previous post on Egypt). Just as Hobsbawn wrote of earlier revolutions, everything seems possible as the old regimes crumble and people have literally been dancing, as well as fighting, in the streets. In Libya at the moment it is the fighting that is dominant, hopefully victory and further celebrations won't be too far behind.
Strangely it was Gadhafi last week who called for dancing in the streets, just as his death squads were going into action across Libya. A desparate atempt to redirect the youthful energy of the uprising into a party for a murderous regime.
The festivities in Benghazi (Libya's second city, taken by the rebels), Cairo and elsewhere have had an entirely different character: not just dancing and singing together, but creating new social relations - what Alain Badiou has called 'a communism of movement':
“Communism” here means: a common creation of a collective destiny. This “common” has two specific traits. First, it is generic, representing, in a place, humanity as a whole. There we find all sorts of people who make up a People, every word is heard, every suggestion examined, any difficulty treated for what it is. Next, it overcomes all the substantial contradictions that the state claims to be its exclusive province since it alone is able to manage them, without ever surpassing them: between intellectuals and manual workers, between men and women, between poor and rich, between Muslims and Copts, between peasants and Cairo residents. Thousands of new possibilities, concerning these contradictions, arise at any given moment, to which the state — any state— remains completely blind.
One witnesses young female doctors from the provinces taking care of the injured, sleeping in the middle of a circle of fierce young men, and they are calmer than they have ever been, knowing that no one will dare to touch a single hair of their heads. One witnesses, just as well, a group of engineers entreating young suburbanites to hold the place and protect the movement with their energy in battle. One witnesses a row of Christians doing the watch, standing, guarding over bent Muslims in prayer. One witnesses merchants of every kind nourishing the unemployed and the poor. One witnesses anonymous bystanders chatting with each other. One can read thousands of signs where individual lives mix without hiatus in the big cauldron of history. All these situations, these inventions, constitute the communism of movement. For two centuries the only political problem has been how to set up in the long run the inventions of the communism of movement? (Tunisia, Egypt - The Universal Reach of Popular Uprisings) .
Badiou's article also includes a great quote from Jean-Marie Gleize: “The dissemination of a revolutionary movement is not carried by contamination. But by resonance. Something that surfaces here resounds with the shock wave emitted by something that happened over there.” I like the notion of revolution as a sonic event, something that is heard and felt and sets bodies in motion, dancing and fighting.
Badiou's article also includes a great quote from Jean-Marie Gleize: “The dissemination of a revolutionary movement is not carried by contamination. But by resonance. Something that surfaces here resounds with the shock wave emitted by something that happened over there.” I like the notion of revolution as a sonic event, something that is heard and felt and sets bodies in motion, dancing and fighting.
All images of celebrations in Benghazi following the overthrow of Gadhafi's rule there.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Laura Knight
Le Carnival
Tamara Karsavina of the Ballet Russes as the Firebird
Laura Knight (1887-1970) was a prolific painter of dancers and other performers in the ballet, circus and theatre. Lots more of her work here and here. Before the First World War, Knight was part of the artists' 'colony' that gathered in Lamorna, Cornwall - others included Samuel John "Lamorna" Birch, Alfred Munnings and Aleister Crowley.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
William Gibson on the end of the record industry
A rejoinder from William Gibson to the claim that the 20th century music industry was a natural state of affairs:
'In the early 1920s... there were still some people in this country who hadn't yet heard recorded music. Not many, but a few. That's less than a hundred years ago. Your career as a "recording artist"... took place towards the end of a technological window that lasted less than a hundred years, a window during which consumers of recorded music lacked the means of producing that which they consumed. They could buy recordings, but they couldn't reproduce them. The Curfew [fictional band in the novel] came in as the monopoly on the means of production was starting to erode. Prior to that monopoly, musicians were paid for performing, published and sold sheet music, or had patrons. The pop star, as we knew her... was actually an artifact of preubiquitous media... Of a state in which "mass" media existed, if you will, within the world'. 'As opposed to?' 'Comprising it'.' (Spook Country, 2007).
Sunday, February 27, 2011
In remembrance of Ali Höhler
At this time of year it is customary to raise a glass to one of Germany's finest music critics: Albrecht (Ali) Höhler (1898-1933).
His exemplary practical critique was directed againt Horst Wessel, a musician, song writer and founder of a Nazi stormtrooper Schalmeienkapelle (shawm band - the shawn being a kind of oboe). Wessel was a leading Nazi party organiser in Berlin. Among other things he organised an attack on the local headquarters of the Communist Party in Friedrichshain, Berlin, during which four workers sustained serious injuries.
In January 1930 Wessel was shot in the head by Ali Höhler, seemingly at the instigation of members of the communist Roter Frontkämpferbund (Red Front Fighters League). Wessel died from his injuries a few weeks later and was buried on 23 February 1930 in a public funeral stage managed by Goebbels. Unfortunately one of his songs survived and became known as the "Horst Wessel Lied" and the official anthem of the Nazi Party.
When the Nazis came to power they killed Höhler and elevated Wessel to the rank of a holy martyr (one magazine wrote: 'How high Horst Wessel towers over that Jesus of Nazareth').
So here's to Ali Höhler - he had some fine tattoos too:
There's a Hamburg based punk band called Kommando Ali Höhler.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Berlin street art
Some pictures taken in Berlin earlier this month - mostly in Friedrichshain, but I think the last image of the astronaut was in Kreuzberg:
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Night stirs the trees
Night stirs the trees
With breathings of such music that they sway,
Skirts, sleeves, tiaras, in the humming dark,
Their highborn heads tossing in disarray.
A floating owl
Unreels his silence, winding in and out
Of different darknesses. The wind takes up
And scatters a sound of water all about.
No moon need slide
Into the sky to make that water bright;
It ties its swelling self with glassy ropes;
It jumps from stones in smithereens of light.
The mosses on the wall
Plump their fat cushions up. They smell of wells,
Of under bridges and of spoons. They move
More quiveringly than the dazed rims of bells.
A broad cloud drops
A darker darkness. Turning up his stare,
Letting the world pour under him, owl goes off,
His small soft foghorn quavering through the air.
'By Achmelvich Bridge' Norman MacCaig (1910-96)
With breathings of such music that they sway,
Skirts, sleeves, tiaras, in the humming dark,
Their highborn heads tossing in disarray.
A floating owl
Unreels his silence, winding in and out
Of different darknesses. The wind takes up
And scatters a sound of water all about.
No moon need slide
Into the sky to make that water bright;
It ties its swelling self with glassy ropes;
It jumps from stones in smithereens of light.
The mosses on the wall
Plump their fat cushions up. They smell of wells,
Of under bridges and of spoons. They move
More quiveringly than the dazed rims of bells.
A broad cloud drops
A darker darkness. Turning up his stare,
Letting the world pour under him, owl goes off,
His small soft foghorn quavering through the air.
'By Achmelvich Bridge' Norman MacCaig (1910-96)
Image: The Sleeping Shepherd, Samuel Palmer (1805-1881)
The poem also put in my mind of a song title by Of Montreal - At Night Trees Aren't Sleeping
Friday, February 18, 2011
Datacide #11 Launch in Berlin
I went to Berlin recently for the launch of the new issue (number 11) of Datacide - 'the magazine for noise and politics'.
There were a couple of events. First up was a series of talks at Cagliostro, a bar in Friedrichshain which also houses the Praxis record shop (plenty of breakcore, noise and hard drum and bass vinyl with some radical literature too - funny seeing Aufheben, the German-titled English communist magazine on sale in Germany). Praxis is the label started by Christoph Fringeli who also initiated Datacide. Note the extremely rare Association of Autonomous Astronauts slipmat in the shop:
I gave a talk based on my article in the magazine, Dance Before the Police Come, looking at the different ways the state tries to regulate clubs, raves and parties. I also reflected on the role of sound systems in the recent student demonstrations in the UK.
Nemeton spoke about the Tea Party movement and the radical right in the US, also based around her article in Datacide#11 . She dismissed claims that it simply represents a grass roots popular movement, highlighting the role of Fox media and established right wing politicians in launching and promoting it.
Riccardo Balli missed his flight from Italy but gave a reading of his short fiction piece ' 333 bpm' the next day.
Then on the Friday night there was a launch party at Subversiv, a housing project with a bar and brick basement. Berlin nightlife gets going late, the music started about one and the dancefloor peaked around four. Hard breaks and beats were supplied by DJs from Berlin, Bologna, Los Angeles and Essex including Christoph Fringeli, Balli (Sonic Belligeranza), Kovert, Baseck (Dark Matter), Nemeton (Dark Matter), LT, Cannibal Brother. I missed the last couple as I had to leave to get to the airport. But it was a good party and the notion of praxis as the unity of theory and action was certainly embedded in the event with at least four of the DJs also writing articles for the new Datacide.
[In the basemenet of Subversiv - the red poster sets out the venue's rules: 'Diese Party ist ein Freiraum in dem Sexismus, Transphobe, Homophobe, Mackertum, Antisemitismus and Rassismus KEINEN PLATZ haben' ( approximately 'this party is a free space in which sexism, transphobia, homophobia, macho behaviour, anti-semitism and racism have no place')]
Subversiv is one of the few squatted projects left in Berlin from the period after the fall of the wall when vacant properties were occupied en masse. Many of these were subsequently licensed in deals with the local government, but as the buildings have been sold off to developers and private landlords most have been evicted.
The day before I arrived another high profile squat was evicted in Friedrichshain, with 25 residents cleared from the Liebig 14 tenement block. The eviction was a big deal, the day was announced in advance and thousands of cops swamped the streets to make sure it went ahead.
On Wednesday night (2nd February) a march of a couple of thousand people in the area was stopped by the police short of its destination, and there were clashes followed by cat and mouse chasing through the streets with groups heading off causing mischief. I saw smashed bank windows and lots of graffiti, and apparently windows were broken at the O2 centre (big corporate entertainment centre similar to its London counterpart).
The full contents of Datacide #11 are as follows:
Datacide events - page 3
Political news compiled by Nemeton - page 4-5
“Hedonism and Revolution: The Barricade and the Dancefloor” by Christoph Fringeli, page 6
“Dope smuggling, LSD manufacture, organized crime & the law in 1960s London”
by Stewart Home, page 8
“Shaking the Foundations: Reggae soundsystem meets ‘Big Ben British values’ downtown” by John Eden, page 12
“Tortugan tower blocks? Pirate signals from the margins” by Alexis Wolton, page 16
“Dancing before the police come” by Neil Transpontine, page 21
“From Subculture to Hegemony: Transversal Strategies of the New Right in Neofolk and Industrial” by Christoph Fringeli, page 24
“From Conspiracy Theories to Attempted Assassinations: The American Radical Right and the Rise of the Tea Party Movement” by Nemeton, page 28
“How to start with the subject. Notes on Burroughs and the ‘combination of all forms of struggle’” by R. C., page 37
Fiction
“Sonic Fictions” by Riccardo Balli, page 40
“Digital Disease” by Dan Hekate, page 45
“Infra-Noir. 23 Untitled Poems” by Howard Slater, page 46
“Office Work” by Matthew Fuller, page 48
Record Reviews, page 52
“Beat Blasted Planet. An interview with Steve Goodman on ‘Sonic Warfare’” by Matthew Fuller and Steve Goodman, page 58
“Free Parties” by Terra Audio, page 60
“This is the end… the official ending” by Gorki Plubakter, page 61
The Lives and Times of Bloor Schleppy (11), page 62
Charts, page 63
Available now for EUR 4.00 incl. postage – order now by sending this amount via paypal to praxis(at)c8.com, or send EUR 10 for 3 issues (note that currently only issues 5, 7 and 10 are still available, but you can also pre-order future issues.) Also from the Praxis Webshop.
There were a couple of events. First up was a series of talks at Cagliostro, a bar in Friedrichshain which also houses the Praxis record shop (plenty of breakcore, noise and hard drum and bass vinyl with some radical literature too - funny seeing Aufheben, the German-titled English communist magazine on sale in Germany). Praxis is the label started by Christoph Fringeli who also initiated Datacide. Note the extremely rare Association of Autonomous Astronauts slipmat in the shop:
I gave a talk based on my article in the magazine, Dance Before the Police Come, looking at the different ways the state tries to regulate clubs, raves and parties. I also reflected on the role of sound systems in the recent student demonstrations in the UK.
Nemeton spoke about the Tea Party movement and the radical right in the US, also based around her article in Datacide#11 . She dismissed claims that it simply represents a grass roots popular movement, highlighting the role of Fox media and established right wing politicians in launching and promoting it.
Riccardo Balli missed his flight from Italy but gave a reading of his short fiction piece ' 333 bpm' the next day.
Then on the Friday night there was a launch party at Subversiv, a housing project with a bar and brick basement. Berlin nightlife gets going late, the music started about one and the dancefloor peaked around four. Hard breaks and beats were supplied by DJs from Berlin, Bologna, Los Angeles and Essex including Christoph Fringeli, Balli (Sonic Belligeranza), Kovert, Baseck (Dark Matter), Nemeton (Dark Matter), LT, Cannibal Brother. I missed the last couple as I had to leave to get to the airport. But it was a good party and the notion of praxis as the unity of theory and action was certainly embedded in the event with at least four of the DJs also writing articles for the new Datacide.
[In the basemenet of Subversiv - the red poster sets out the venue's rules: 'Diese Party ist ein Freiraum in dem Sexismus, Transphobe, Homophobe, Mackertum, Antisemitismus and Rassismus KEINEN PLATZ haben' ( approximately 'this party is a free space in which sexism, transphobia, homophobia, macho behaviour, anti-semitism and racism have no place')]
Subversiv is one of the few squatted projects left in Berlin from the period after the fall of the wall when vacant properties were occupied en masse. Many of these were subsequently licensed in deals with the local government, but as the buildings have been sold off to developers and private landlords most have been evicted.
The day before I arrived another high profile squat was evicted in Friedrichshain, with 25 residents cleared from the Liebig 14 tenement block. The eviction was a big deal, the day was announced in advance and thousands of cops swamped the streets to make sure it went ahead.
On Wednesday night (2nd February) a march of a couple of thousand people in the area was stopped by the police short of its destination, and there were clashes followed by cat and mouse chasing through the streets with groups heading off causing mischief. I saw smashed bank windows and lots of graffiti, and apparently windows were broken at the O2 centre (big corporate entertainment centre similar to its London counterpart).
The full contents of Datacide #11 are as follows:
Datacide events - page 3
Political news compiled by Nemeton - page 4-5
Features:
“Hedonism and Revolution: The Barricade and the Dancefloor” by Christoph Fringeli, page 6
“Dope smuggling, LSD manufacture, organized crime & the law in 1960s London”
by Stewart Home, page 8
“Shaking the Foundations: Reggae soundsystem meets ‘Big Ben British values’ downtown” by John Eden, page 12
“Tortugan tower blocks? Pirate signals from the margins” by Alexis Wolton, page 16
“Dancing before the police come” by Neil Transpontine, page 21
“From Subculture to Hegemony: Transversal Strategies of the New Right in Neofolk and Industrial” by Christoph Fringeli, page 24
“From Conspiracy Theories to Attempted Assassinations: The American Radical Right and the Rise of the Tea Party Movement” by Nemeton, page 28
“How to start with the subject. Notes on Burroughs and the ‘combination of all forms of struggle’” by R. C., page 37
Fiction
“Sonic Fictions” by Riccardo Balli, page 40
“Digital Disease” by Dan Hekate, page 45
“Infra-Noir. 23 Untitled Poems” by Howard Slater, page 46
“Office Work” by Matthew Fuller, page 48
Record Reviews, page 52
“Beat Blasted Planet. An interview with Steve Goodman on ‘Sonic Warfare’” by Matthew Fuller and Steve Goodman, page 58
“Free Parties” by Terra Audio, page 60
“This is the end… the official ending” by Gorki Plubakter, page 61
The Lives and Times of Bloor Schleppy (11), page 62
Charts, page 63
Available now for EUR 4.00 incl. postage – order now by sending this amount via paypal to praxis(at)c8.com, or send EUR 10 for 3 issues (note that currently only issues 5, 7 and 10 are still available, but you can also pre-order future issues.) Also from the Praxis Webshop.
The zine is now available in London, currently exclusively at the 56a Info Shop, 56 Crampton Street, SE17.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Dancing in the Dark - Bert Williams
'These were bright new monied times in which society people were encouraged to enjoy the primitive theatrics of those who appeared to be finally understanding that their principal role was now to entertain. Listen. The wail of a trumpet as it screeches crazily towards heaven and then shudders and breaks and falls back to earth where its lament is replaced by the anxious syncopated tap tap tapping of clumsily shod feet beating out their joyous black misery in a tattoo of sweating servitude. Performative bondage'
Dancing in the Dark (2005) by Caryl Phillips is a fictionalised account of the life of Bert Williams (1874-1922), a Bahamas-born performer who became famous on the American stage in the era when black actors were expected to wear 'blackface' to conform to white audience's expectations.
As such it is a beautifully-written reflection on the role of the black performer in a racist context, whose very achievements come at high personal and collective cost. Williams was in some ways a groundbreaking figure - co-writer of the first black production on Broadway (In Dahomey, 1903); the only black performer in Ziegfeld's follies before the First World War; helping to spread the cakewalk dance craze across the USA and then to England on a visit here; and a singer in the early days of the record industry. But his success was predicated on him continuing to play the stereotypical role of the dim-witted 'darky' and when he attempted to step beyond this the response was hostile. Williams was one of the first black film actors in the now lost Darktown Jubilee (1914), but the sight of a zoot suit wearing black leading man provoked near riots among white audiences.
Dancing in the Dark (2005) by Caryl Phillips is a fictionalised account of the life of Bert Williams (1874-1922), a Bahamas-born performer who became famous on the American stage in the era when black actors were expected to wear 'blackface' to conform to white audience's expectations.
As such it is a beautifully-written reflection on the role of the black performer in a racist context, whose very achievements come at high personal and collective cost. Williams was in some ways a groundbreaking figure - co-writer of the first black production on Broadway (In Dahomey, 1903); the only black performer in Ziegfeld's follies before the First World War; helping to spread the cakewalk dance craze across the USA and then to England on a visit here; and a singer in the early days of the record industry. But his success was predicated on him continuing to play the stereotypical role of the dim-witted 'darky' and when he attempted to step beyond this the response was hostile. Williams was one of the first black film actors in the now lost Darktown Jubilee (1914), but the sight of a zoot suit wearing black leading man provoked near riots among white audiences.
'Others will come after me to entertain you, and they will happily change their name and put on whatever clownish costume you wish them to wear, and dance, and sing, and perform in a manner that will amuse you, and you will mimic them, and you will make your money, but know that at the darkest point of the night, when no eyes are upon them, these people's souls will be heavy, and eventually some among them will say no, and you will see their sadness, and then you will turn from them and choose somebody else to place in the empty room, or nudge onto your empty stage'
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Georgina Cook exhibition
Looking forward to this on Thursday, the launch of an exhibition of photographs by Georgina Cook (Drumz of the South) at the LAVA Gallery 1.11 Kingly Court, Carnaby Street, London, W1B 5PW.The opening on Thursday, 17th February runs from 6- 9.30pm with music from Martelo and Skipple. The exhibition is open daily from 17th- 23rd February, 11am-7pm, Sunday: 12pm-6pm.
Georgina is second to none in evoking the sense of being out dancing through photography, as well as documenting nightlife (and much else) in London and elsewhere. See her History is Made at Night Dancing Questionnaire here.
Check out her Flickr photostream for lots of her work.
Monday, February 07, 2011
Chris Wood - Hollow Point (a song for Jean Charles de Menezes)
A while ago, I did a post on songs about people being killed by the police (Blair Peach, Liddle Towers etc.) At tonight's Radio 2 Folk Awards, the best song award was given to another: Chris Wood's 'Hollow Point' is about the killing of Jean Charles de Menezes by police at Stockwell underground station in 2005.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Egypt: Singing for Revolution in Tahrir Square
The unfolding revolution in Egypt has seen an explosion of new forms of social life and mutual aid as people organise to live as the regime totters. The collective occupation of urban space in Tahrir Square and elsewhere; the establishing of autonomous field hospitals to treat the injured; the formation of street committees to maintain security and hygiene; all this alongside the attacks on the institutions of the state (police stations, prisons, ruling party HQs). According to one eye wtiness account:
'Though the regime continues to struggle, practically little government exists. All ministries and government offices have been closed, and almost all police headquarters were burned down on January 28... During the ensuing week and a half, millions converged on the streets almost everywhere in Egypt, and one could empirically see how noble ethics—community and solidarity, care for others, respect for the dignity of all, feeling of personal responsibility for everyone - emerge precisely out of the disappearance of government' (The Egyptian Revolution: First Impressions from the Field - Mohammed A. Bamyeh).
Naturally music and dancing has been part of this explosion: 'Between protesters roaming around shouting sarcastic anti-government slogans into handheld microphones, others attracting the crowd with original poetry, and young bands playing music, the sit-in in Tahrir Square has turned into a street festival' (The Politics of Persistence at almasryalyoum.com).
A number of commentators have mentioned the popularity in the protests of the songs of Ahmad Fu’ad Nigm and the late al-Shaykh Imam. There's an excellent article at Jadaliyya on Singing for the Revolution, which includes the lyrics to their very apt song I Am The People. In this article, Sinan Antoon offers a critique of the notion that events in Egypt can be understood as inspired by 'Western' ideas and technologies:
'Yes, new technologies and social media definitely played a role and provided a new space and mode, but this discourse eliminates and erases the real agents of these revolutions: the women and men who are making history before our eyes. Members of our species have done that before, you know... As if the inhabitants of the region didn’t have a long history of struggles and revolts against all kinds of oppressors, indigenous, but mostly foreign colonizers (white men, by the way). As if liberationist inspiration has only one boring trajectory always emanating from the west and then heading east. As if the uprising in Iran wasn’t an inspiration as well. But why do I even have to expect the citizens of the civilized world to know about the strikes, riots, uprisings, intifadas and protests of previous decades. As if there wasn’t a proud and potent revolutionary tradition and a collective memory crowded with symbols, martyrs, moments, poems, and songs about freedom and justice. One of the rallying chants in Tunisia was a line from the Tunisian poet Abu ‘l-Qasim al-Shabbi (1909-1934) “ If, one day, the people want life, fate must yield"...'
Here's some singing on Friday's Day of Departure demonstration in Cairo with a guitarist leading a chorus (rough translation: 'Down Down Hosni Mubarak, Down Down Hosni Mubarak ... The people want to dismantle the regime .... He is to go, we are not going ... He is to go, we won't leave ... We all, one hand, ask one thing, leave leave'
One final thought...
Why do people keep going on about the 'Arab revolution' and the 'Arab Street' as if people there are fundamentally different from the rest of the world? Even in the Middle East, the notion of the 'Arab revolution' excludes millions of people who don't define themselves as Arabs - most people who live in Iran and Israel for starters.
What's going on in Egypt and Tunisia is linked to movements against austerity, unemployment and rising prices across the globe. I know Trafalgar Square isn't Tahrir Square, but there are even parallels with the recent demonstrations in the UK - see for instance the prominent role of school students in the Tunisian events as in London (and in France and Greece in the last couple of years). Of course, in Egypt and Tunisia they have been confronting repressive dictatorships as well as economic misery, but here too there are parallels with other parts of the world - Chinese bureaucrats must be shaking in their boots as well as Egyptian, Syrian and Iranian ones. The scenes in Tahrir Square resemble nothing so much as Tiananmen Square in the days before the suppression of protests in Beijing in 1989 - hopefully this time with a happier ending.
'Though the regime continues to struggle, practically little government exists. All ministries and government offices have been closed, and almost all police headquarters were burned down on January 28... During the ensuing week and a half, millions converged on the streets almost everywhere in Egypt, and one could empirically see how noble ethics—community and solidarity, care for others, respect for the dignity of all, feeling of personal responsibility for everyone - emerge precisely out of the disappearance of government' (The Egyptian Revolution: First Impressions from the Field - Mohammed A. Bamyeh).
Naturally music and dancing has been part of this explosion: 'Between protesters roaming around shouting sarcastic anti-government slogans into handheld microphones, others attracting the crowd with original poetry, and young bands playing music, the sit-in in Tahrir Square has turned into a street festival' (The Politics of Persistence at almasryalyoum.com).
A number of commentators have mentioned the popularity in the protests of the songs of Ahmad Fu’ad Nigm and the late al-Shaykh Imam. There's an excellent article at Jadaliyya on Singing for the Revolution, which includes the lyrics to their very apt song I Am The People. In this article, Sinan Antoon offers a critique of the notion that events in Egypt can be understood as inspired by 'Western' ideas and technologies:
'Yes, new technologies and social media definitely played a role and provided a new space and mode, but this discourse eliminates and erases the real agents of these revolutions: the women and men who are making history before our eyes. Members of our species have done that before, you know... As if the inhabitants of the region didn’t have a long history of struggles and revolts against all kinds of oppressors, indigenous, but mostly foreign colonizers (white men, by the way). As if liberationist inspiration has only one boring trajectory always emanating from the west and then heading east. As if the uprising in Iran wasn’t an inspiration as well. But why do I even have to expect the citizens of the civilized world to know about the strikes, riots, uprisings, intifadas and protests of previous decades. As if there wasn’t a proud and potent revolutionary tradition and a collective memory crowded with symbols, martyrs, moments, poems, and songs about freedom and justice. One of the rallying chants in Tunisia was a line from the Tunisian poet Abu ‘l-Qasim al-Shabbi (1909-1934) “ If, one day, the people want life, fate must yield"...'
Here's some singing on Friday's Day of Departure demonstration in Cairo with a guitarist leading a chorus (rough translation: 'Down Down Hosni Mubarak, Down Down Hosni Mubarak ... The people want to dismantle the regime .... He is to go, we are not going ... He is to go, we won't leave ... We all, one hand, ask one thing, leave leave'
One final thought...
Why do people keep going on about the 'Arab revolution' and the 'Arab Street' as if people there are fundamentally different from the rest of the world? Even in the Middle East, the notion of the 'Arab revolution' excludes millions of people who don't define themselves as Arabs - most people who live in Iran and Israel for starters.
What's going on in Egypt and Tunisia is linked to movements against austerity, unemployment and rising prices across the globe. I know Trafalgar Square isn't Tahrir Square, but there are even parallels with the recent demonstrations in the UK - see for instance the prominent role of school students in the Tunisian events as in London (and in France and Greece in the last couple of years). Of course, in Egypt and Tunisia they have been confronting repressive dictatorships as well as economic misery, but here too there are parallels with other parts of the world - Chinese bureaucrats must be shaking in their boots as well as Egyptian, Syrian and Iranian ones. The scenes in Tahrir Square resemble nothing so much as Tiananmen Square in the days before the suppression of protests in Beijing in 1989 - hopefully this time with a happier ending.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe
The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin works on two levels -above ground the 'Field of Stelae' conveys a sense of scale, like a vast expanse of anonymous tombs.
In the exhibition below ground the focus is on named individuals. A small sample of life stories from the Shoah puts it on a human scale - real people shown going about their lives before they were cut short - musicians whose music was silenced, murdered dancers, lovers, mothers, sisters.
Alice Dreifuss (born 1910) in a Fasching (carnival costume) in Altdorf in 1927; she was murdered in January 1943 in Auschwitz-Birkenau
'Belgrade, 1924: members of the Demajo, Arueti and Elkalay families at a picnic. A friend of the Demajo family hid the photos in a box dug in the ground in Belgrade. Rafael Pijada saved the rest of the photos under Bulgarian occupation in Macedonia'. Chaim Demajo, the accordionist on the left, was shot in October 1941 near Belgrade.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Langston Hughes - Dream Variations (1926)
Langston Hughes was born on this day (1 February) in 1902. Here's his great poem Dream Variations (1926):
To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me-
That is my dream!
To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening...
A tall, slim tree...
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me-
That is my dream!
To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening...
A tall, slim tree...
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Brighton Street Murals
There's some good street art in Brighton, including a pretty fine James Brown mural:
Look closely at the chess mural and you will see that Run DMC are also honoured:
Look closely at the chess mural and you will see that Run DMC are also honoured:
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
History is Made at Night in Berlin: Datacide Launch Party
Going to be in Berlin next week to do a talk as part of the launch of the new edition of Datacide magazine (number 11), in which I have an article. The next night there's a launch party. Details follow:
Thursday, 3rd February 2011 - TALKS & DISCUSSION
Cagliostro, Lenbachstr. 10, (Ostkreuz), from 17h
“333 bpm” - a sonic-fiction by Riccardo Balli
Iconographic references by: Caina
Every style in electronic music inspires a certain social behaviour, well more, it actually structures the listener’s brainframe. Do you want to know how? And, above all, do you want to smash this social brainframe down by hyper-mixing genres? Some tips on how to do this can maybe come from this fiction, a sonic one, of course!
Dance before the police come - talk by Neil Transpontine
What’s going on when police raid parties? Neil Transpontine explores the different ways laws on sex, drugs, noise, property and subversion are used to constrain dancing in the UK and across the world.
Friday 4th February 2011, Datacide Release Party at Subversiv, Brunnenstrasse 7, U8 with DJs including Nemeton (Darkmatter Sound System), DJ Balli, Kovert (Critical Noise), Christoph Fringeli (Praxis), LT (Cagliostro), Baseck (Darkmatter).
Thursday, 3rd February 2011 - TALKS & DISCUSSION
Cagliostro, Lenbachstr. 10, (Ostkreuz), from 17h
“333 bpm” - a sonic-fiction by Riccardo Balli
Iconographic references by: Caina
Every style in electronic music inspires a certain social behaviour, well more, it actually structures the listener’s brainframe. Do you want to know how? And, above all, do you want to smash this social brainframe down by hyper-mixing genres? Some tips on how to do this can maybe come from this fiction, a sonic one, of course!
Dance before the police come - talk by Neil Transpontine
What’s going on when police raid parties? Neil Transpontine explores the different ways laws on sex, drugs, noise, property and subversion are used to constrain dancing in the UK and across the world.
Friday 4th February 2011, Datacide Release Party at Subversiv, Brunnenstrasse 7, U8 with DJs including Nemeton (Darkmatter Sound System), DJ Balli, Kovert (Critical Noise), Christoph Fringeli (Praxis), LT (Cagliostro), Baseck (Darkmatter).
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Classic Party Scenes (7): Black Swan
Enjoyed Black Swan, a whole movie about dancing - what's not to like? If you've been living in a cave for the last month you might need to be told that it stars Natalie Portman as a ballet dancer struggling with her dark side as she prepares for the dual role of white swan/black swan in Swan Lake. Cue sex, drugs, blood and madness. All this and great eye make up!
It also has one of the best club scenes I've seen in a movie for a while, conveying a sense of messy, druggy dissociative intimacy on a dancefloor. It was apparently filmed in the Forum in Manhattan with soundtrack courtesy of The Chemical Brothers.
It also has one of the best club scenes I've seen in a movie for a while, conveying a sense of messy, druggy dissociative intimacy on a dancefloor. It was apparently filmed in the Forum in Manhattan with soundtrack courtesy of The Chemical Brothers.
Weirder than anything in the film is the usual drivel on crazed conspiracy sites where David Icke acolytes ponder how the movie fits in to the supposed global/zionist/illuminati/Hollywood mind control plot. Apparently the movie teaches us to embrace our evil natures and commit ritual sacrifice. I don't dip into this stuff very often, and am not going to link to it, but needless to say much is made of the fact that Natalie Portman is.... shock horror... Jewish. There's a lenghthy obsessive post out there with the hilarious (but they're not joking) title Natalie Portman, Kabbalistic Kitten.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Parties and Police, January 2011
Party in the forest, Norfolk, England (EDP 15 January 2010)
'Officers moved in on an area of forestland at Two Mile Bottom, Thetford, at around 11am on Saturday morning. At the height of the event there were believed to have been up to 150 people attending. A boarded up holiday house had been broken into and used by the organisers.
Officers had been closely monitoring the situation since midnight and were actively turning away people attempting to attend. No complaints were made in relation to noise nuisance. The nearest property was around half a mile away... Sound equipment was seized and six arrests were made for offences including theft, burglary, being unfit to drive, criminal damage and organising an unlicensed music event. All of those arrested were taken to Bethel St Police Station'.
Warehouse Party in Bristol (BBC 2 January 2011)
'Three people were arrested when a New Year's Eve rave party at an industrial estate in Bristol turned to violence. The event, promoted on the social media site Facebook, was being held at South Liberty Lane.
Police said at its peak, more than 1,000 illegal ravers attended, breaking into commercial premises, occupying buildings, setting fires and throwing bottles at officers. The arrests were made for public order offences and damage. A spokesman for Avon and Somerset Police said officers were working under "sometimes exceptionally violent and difficult circumstances to bring the situation under control". Police broke up the party at about 1100 GMT on Saturday'.
Cavers hit back at police 'illegal ravers' claims: Bath, England (Bath Chronicle, 6 January 2011)
'Cavers who saw in the new year at a former underground quarry near Bath have criticised police for labelling them "illegal ravers." Wiltshire Police had issued a warning about trespassing on land after they heard about a planned underground gathering at the Brown's Folly mine complex at Monkton Farleigh.
But people who attended the event said the New Year's Eve incident had been exaggerated by the police and that they were not causing any harm to anyone. One of the organisers, who did not wish to be named, said they had come up with the idea around two weeks before and had been careful not to cause any trouble.
He said: "People sat around on stone seats, built from large square stones laying around, with some background music with a couple of beers, "bring a bottle" kind of nature, and chatted about the year's adventures. Some left before midnight, some slept underground and went the next morning. All the rubbish was removed."
He added that for decades people had been visiting these types of sites without any trouble. Another caver, who also did not want to be named, said it was sad that the police had been so quick to assume the group were troublemakers. Late last week police warned the public that anyone entering the site would be treated as trespassers and would be committing offences under the Licensing Act 2003'.
Kathmandu, Nepal (Himalayan Times 9 January 2011)
'Police raided Platinum Disco in Durbar Marg in the wee hours of Saturday and arrested 51 persons for allegedly violating the government rule that prohibits public gathering after midnight. The local administration citing security reasons has barred discotheques, restaurants, pubs and bars from dispensing business after midnight.
SP Pradhyumna Kumar Karki, acting Chief of Kathmandu police informed that 51 persons, including Platinum Disco staff, were arrested as they were found operating the business till 12:55 am... The police released 45 disco-goers this morning on condition that they would not indulge in illegal activities in future. However, the disco promoters and staffers have been taken into custody at Metropolitan Police Range, Hanumandhoka, for further investigation'
'Officers moved in on an area of forestland at Two Mile Bottom, Thetford, at around 11am on Saturday morning. At the height of the event there were believed to have been up to 150 people attending. A boarded up holiday house had been broken into and used by the organisers.
Officers had been closely monitoring the situation since midnight and were actively turning away people attempting to attend. No complaints were made in relation to noise nuisance. The nearest property was around half a mile away... Sound equipment was seized and six arrests were made for offences including theft, burglary, being unfit to drive, criminal damage and organising an unlicensed music event. All of those arrested were taken to Bethel St Police Station'.
Warehouse Party in Bristol (BBC 2 January 2011)
'Three people were arrested when a New Year's Eve rave party at an industrial estate in Bristol turned to violence. The event, promoted on the social media site Facebook, was being held at South Liberty Lane.
Police said at its peak, more than 1,000 illegal ravers attended, breaking into commercial premises, occupying buildings, setting fires and throwing bottles at officers. The arrests were made for public order offences and damage. A spokesman for Avon and Somerset Police said officers were working under "sometimes exceptionally violent and difficult circumstances to bring the situation under control". Police broke up the party at about 1100 GMT on Saturday'.
Cavers hit back at police 'illegal ravers' claims: Bath, England (Bath Chronicle, 6 January 2011)
'Cavers who saw in the new year at a former underground quarry near Bath have criticised police for labelling them "illegal ravers." Wiltshire Police had issued a warning about trespassing on land after they heard about a planned underground gathering at the Brown's Folly mine complex at Monkton Farleigh.
But people who attended the event said the New Year's Eve incident had been exaggerated by the police and that they were not causing any harm to anyone. One of the organisers, who did not wish to be named, said they had come up with the idea around two weeks before and had been careful not to cause any trouble.
He said: "People sat around on stone seats, built from large square stones laying around, with some background music with a couple of beers, "bring a bottle" kind of nature, and chatted about the year's adventures. Some left before midnight, some slept underground and went the next morning. All the rubbish was removed."
He added that for decades people had been visiting these types of sites without any trouble. Another caver, who also did not want to be named, said it was sad that the police had been so quick to assume the group were troublemakers. Late last week police warned the public that anyone entering the site would be treated as trespassers and would be committing offences under the Licensing Act 2003'.
Kathmandu, Nepal (Himalayan Times 9 January 2011)
'Police raided Platinum Disco in Durbar Marg in the wee hours of Saturday and arrested 51 persons for allegedly violating the government rule that prohibits public gathering after midnight. The local administration citing security reasons has barred discotheques, restaurants, pubs and bars from dispensing business after midnight.
SP Pradhyumna Kumar Karki, acting Chief of Kathmandu police informed that 51 persons, including Platinum Disco staff, were arrested as they were found operating the business till 12:55 am... The police released 45 disco-goers this morning on condition that they would not indulge in illegal activities in future. However, the disco promoters and staffers have been taken into custody at Metropolitan Police Range, Hanumandhoka, for further investigation'
Sunday, January 09, 2011
UK Teknival Trial and the Licensing Act 2003
We reported last year on the police operation to close the UK Teknival at Dale Aerodrome in Pemrokeshire (Wales).
The court case arising from this ended in November 2010, with ten people pleading guilty to charges of holding an event without a suitable licence. They were given Community Service Orders, with nine sentenced to carry out 100 unpaid work and the other 160 hours. Charges were dropped against six other people who pleaded not guilty.
The charges were brought under Section 136 of the Licensing Act 2003, which deals with 'Unauthorised licensable activities'. The full text of the law is:
(1)A person commits an offence if—
(a)he carries on or attempts to carry on a licensable activity on or from any premises otherwise than under and in accordance with an authorisation, or
(b)he knowingly allows a licensable activity to be so carried on.
(2)Where the licensable activity in question is the provision of regulated entertainment, a person does not commit an offence under this section if his only involvement in the provision of the entertainment is that he—
(a)performs in a play,
(b)participates as a sportsman in an indoor sporting event,
(c)boxes or wrestles in a boxing or wrestling entertainment,
(d)performs live music,
(e)plays recorded music,
(f)performs dance, or
(g)does something coming within paragraph 2(1)(h) of Schedule 1 (entertainment similar to music, dance, etc.).
(3)Subsection (2) is to be construed in accordance with Part 3 of Schedule 1.
(4)A person guilty of an offence under this section is liable on summary conviction to imprisonment for a term not exceeding six months or to a fine not exceeding £20,000, or to both.
(5)In this Part “authorisation” means—
(a)a premises licence,
(b)a club premises certificate, or
(c)a temporary event notice in respect of which the conditions of section 98(2) to (4) are satisfied.
What this effectively means is that if you put on an event for which a licence is required, but you don't have a licence, you can be prosecuted. But note that people can't be prosecuted just for taking part (e.g. playing music or DJing). This would normally be used against a place like a pub or a private home that was putting on events. I think it would be difficult to apply to an event in a field or even a squat that didn't belong to the party organisers, as it's not their premises so they can't be held to have 'allowed' it to continue. The police/prosecution would also have to prove who was organising it rather than just taking part in 'the provision of the entertainment'.
Have there been any other successful prosecutions under this Act in relation to raves/free parties?
The court case arising from this ended in November 2010, with ten people pleading guilty to charges of holding an event without a suitable licence. They were given Community Service Orders, with nine sentenced to carry out 100 unpaid work and the other 160 hours. Charges were dropped against six other people who pleaded not guilty.
The charges were brought under Section 136 of the Licensing Act 2003, which deals with 'Unauthorised licensable activities'. The full text of the law is:
(1)A person commits an offence if—
(a)he carries on or attempts to carry on a licensable activity on or from any premises otherwise than under and in accordance with an authorisation, or
(b)he knowingly allows a licensable activity to be so carried on.
(2)Where the licensable activity in question is the provision of regulated entertainment, a person does not commit an offence under this section if his only involvement in the provision of the entertainment is that he—
(a)performs in a play,
(b)participates as a sportsman in an indoor sporting event,
(c)boxes or wrestles in a boxing or wrestling entertainment,
(d)performs live music,
(e)plays recorded music,
(f)performs dance, or
(g)does something coming within paragraph 2(1)(h) of Schedule 1 (entertainment similar to music, dance, etc.).
(3)Subsection (2) is to be construed in accordance with Part 3 of Schedule 1.
(4)A person guilty of an offence under this section is liable on summary conviction to imprisonment for a term not exceeding six months or to a fine not exceeding £20,000, or to both.
(5)In this Part “authorisation” means—
(a)a premises licence,
(b)a club premises certificate, or
(c)a temporary event notice in respect of which the conditions of section 98(2) to (4) are satisfied.
What this effectively means is that if you put on an event for which a licence is required, but you don't have a licence, you can be prosecuted. But note that people can't be prosecuted just for taking part (e.g. playing music or DJing). This would normally be used against a place like a pub or a private home that was putting on events. I think it would be difficult to apply to an event in a field or even a squat that didn't belong to the party organisers, as it's not their premises so they can't be held to have 'allowed' it to continue. The police/prosecution would also have to prove who was organising it rather than just taking part in 'the provision of the entertainment'.
Have there been any other successful prosecutions under this Act in relation to raves/free parties?
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
No to AB74 - the proposed Californian Anti-Raves Act
A campaign is growing against 'anti-rave' legislation being proposed in the California State Assembly by Assemblywoman Fiona Ma. AB 74, also known as the Anti-Raves Act of 2011, is worded as follows:
'SECTION 1. This act shall be known and may be cited as the Anti-Raves Act of 2011.
SEC. 2. Section 421 is added to the Penal Code, to read: 421. (a) Any person who conducts a public event at night that includes prerecorded music and lasts more than three and one-half hours is guilty of a misdemeanor punishable by a fine of ten thousand dollars ($10,000) or twice the actual or estimated gross receipts for the event, whichever is greater. (b) Subdivision (a) shall not apply to a public event on private property if the entity that conducts the public event has a business license to operate a bar, club, theater, entertainment venue, or other similar business, or to conduct sporting events, and conducting the public event is consistent with the business license. (c) For purposes of this section, "night" means that period between sunset and sunrise'.
In effect the law, if passed, would prohibit raves on public property and prevent raves on private property unless a business owner has a license to host such an event. Ma claims that 'Raves foster an environment that threatens the health and safety of our youth... The introduction of AB 74 is the first step toward eliminating these dangerous events'.
The bill follows the death in June of 2010 of a 15-year-old girl died at a rave at the publically owned Los Angeles Coliseum, and of two people in May 2010 at the state-owned Cow Palace in Daly City. But as opponents have pointed out, the bill actually makes no reference to drugs and in any case drug dealing is already covered by existing laws. By targeting 'pre-recorded' music, the bill is explicitly singling out electronic dance music, with Ma stating: "The bill is not intended to impact traditional music concerts and sporting events. AB 74 is about cracking down on raves that harbor drug use and lead to teenage deaths."
Check out the Facebook group: Protect Your Right to Dance: Anti-AB 74
Here's a short film of people staging a Right to Dance protest rally in Los Angeles in 1997 during a previous campaign against state harrassment of parties:
Obviously there are similarities here too with the British Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 which notoriously legislated against unlicensed raves playing music 'predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats'.
'SECTION 1. This act shall be known and may be cited as the Anti-Raves Act of 2011.
SEC. 2. Section 421 is added to the Penal Code, to read: 421. (a) Any person who conducts a public event at night that includes prerecorded music and lasts more than three and one-half hours is guilty of a misdemeanor punishable by a fine of ten thousand dollars ($10,000) or twice the actual or estimated gross receipts for the event, whichever is greater. (b) Subdivision (a) shall not apply to a public event on private property if the entity that conducts the public event has a business license to operate a bar, club, theater, entertainment venue, or other similar business, or to conduct sporting events, and conducting the public event is consistent with the business license. (c) For purposes of this section, "night" means that period between sunset and sunrise'.
In effect the law, if passed, would prohibit raves on public property and prevent raves on private property unless a business owner has a license to host such an event. Ma claims that 'Raves foster an environment that threatens the health and safety of our youth... The introduction of AB 74 is the first step toward eliminating these dangerous events'.
The bill follows the death in June of 2010 of a 15-year-old girl died at a rave at the publically owned Los Angeles Coliseum, and of two people in May 2010 at the state-owned Cow Palace in Daly City. But as opponents have pointed out, the bill actually makes no reference to drugs and in any case drug dealing is already covered by existing laws. By targeting 'pre-recorded' music, the bill is explicitly singling out electronic dance music, with Ma stating: "The bill is not intended to impact traditional music concerts and sporting events. AB 74 is about cracking down on raves that harbor drug use and lead to teenage deaths."
Check out the Facebook group: Protect Your Right to Dance: Anti-AB 74
Here's a short film of people staging a Right to Dance protest rally in Los Angeles in 1997 during a previous campaign against state harrassment of parties:
Obviously there are similarities here too with the British Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 which notoriously legislated against unlicensed raves playing music 'predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats'.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Haunted dancehall: the ruins of Detroit
The ballroom in the Lee Plaza Hotel, Detroit, from the excellent Ruins of Detroit by Yves Marchard and Romain Meffre.
Interesting article about this by Sean O'Hagan in The Observer yesterday.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Bobby Farrell takes the Night Flight
Bobby Farrell of Boney M died yesterday at the age of 61. Born Alfonso Farrell in Aruba, off the north coast of Venezuela, he left home at the age of 15 to become a sailor. He lived in Norway and the Netherlands and then Germany where he worked as a DJ before he was recruited by German singer/songwriter Frank Farian for Boney M. Farian now says that he actually sang on most of Boney M's songs, and that Farrell just mimed to them on stage. But clearly Farrell was the male face of Boney M, and they wouldn't have been Boney M without him.
In 1978, Boney M released a bona fide Disconaut classic, Night Flight to Venus:
In 1978, Boney M released a bona fide Disconaut classic, Night Flight to Venus:
Geraldine Hoff Doyle: death of a Rosie the Riveter
Geraldine Hoff Doyle (pictured) died in Lansing, Michigan on December 26th at the age of 86. Nearly 70 years ago she was working as a 17 year old in a metal pressing plant during World War Two. A photograph taken of her was used by the artist J. Howard Miller as the basis for an American war effort poster issued in 1942 by the Westinghouse Company’s War Production Coordinating Committee.
Rosie the Riveter was originally named in a 1942 song, with various versions recorded including this one by the Four Vagabonds:
The We Can Do It poster subsequently became associated with Rosie the Riveter, the fictional character representing WW2 women factory workers in the US. It has also become a feminist icon, widely recycled in popular culture (see some examples at Jezebel).
Interestingly, the history of the image isn't as straightforward as it seems. For a start, Doyle only worked in the factory for a couple of weeks. And the poster itself had a very limited local distribution during the war - seemingly hardly anyone saw it. It wasn't until the 1970s and 80s that the poster was rediscovered and became an icon of 'Rosie the Riveter'. Doyle herself was seemingly unaware of the poster's existence until then (see excellent post at Pop History Dig). But none of that detracts from its enduring power. In recent years for instance, Christina Aguilera (Candyman), Pink (Raise your glass) and Beyonce (Why don't you love me?)have all recycled versions of this image:
Rosie the Riveter was originally named in a 1942 song, with various versions recorded including this one by the Four Vagabonds:
Monday, December 27, 2010
Happening 44: Groovy Food and Rave Groups 1967
From International Times no.14, 2 June 1967, an advert for Happening 44, a psychedelic club at 44 Gerrard Street in Soho, where basement clubs of one kind or another had been held since the 1930s.
An invitation to:
'Tune in, Drop in, Come to Life, Love, Be-in with The Colour of Sound, The Sounds of Colour, Rave Groups, Exotic Entertainment, Movies, Strobe, Discs, Groovy Food, Fantastic Decorations, The Astounding Slides of Ron Henderson and the Fiveacre Light Show'
All night on Thursdays and Saturdays from 10:30 pm.
Starchild RIP - Teena Marie
US R&B singer Teena Marie died yesterday at the age of 54. Lots of love to her on the internet already, such as this piece at Soulwalking, so I will confine myself to appreciating her fine slice of space funk from 1984:
'Starchild' is in the 'dream lover from outer space' sub-genre of space-themed dance music (see also I lost my heart to a starship trooper and Spacer) with a dash of Earth Wind & Fire-style Egpytology:
Gazing into outer space
My telescope sent me to another planet
Since I was a child I yearned
To wear the rings around Saturn
My fingers burned
But when you hold me baby
That's the only time
I'm content, element, so sublime
Don't it make you wonder that your universal lover
Could be wearing the same smile
Ooo you are my Starchild...
Baby beam me, baby beam me up up
Drink the milky, from the Milky Way cup
Hold me tighter, touch me, then do
All of the sweet things
That star lovers do
Visions of another time
A strong pyramid, where secrets of life hid
Ancient Hieroglyphics told
of one man touching like Midas
He turned my love to gold
And when you hold me baby and I wear your magic ring
I feel you like no one in this world I've seen
Don't it make you wonder that your universal lover
Could be wearing the same smile
Oooo you are my Starchild...
Baby beam me, baby beam me up up
Drink the milky, from the Milky Way cup
Hold me tighter, touch me then do
All of the sweet things
That Star Lovers do
Take me to your heaven
I'll lay your odds to seven
And the Stars up in the sky
I can see them in your eyes
Oooo you are my Starchild...
Starchild...Starchild...
My telescope sent me to another planet
Since I was a child I yearned
To wear the rings around Saturn
My fingers burned
But when you hold me baby
That's the only time
I'm content, element, so sublime
Don't it make you wonder that your universal lover
Could be wearing the same smile
Ooo you are my Starchild...
Baby beam me, baby beam me up up
Drink the milky, from the Milky Way cup
Hold me tighter, touch me, then do
All of the sweet things
That star lovers do
Visions of another time
A strong pyramid, where secrets of life hid
Ancient Hieroglyphics told
of one man touching like Midas
He turned my love to gold
And when you hold me baby and I wear your magic ring
I feel you like no one in this world I've seen
Don't it make you wonder that your universal lover
Could be wearing the same smile
Oooo you are my Starchild...
Baby beam me, baby beam me up up
Drink the milky, from the Milky Way cup
Hold me tighter, touch me then do
All of the sweet things
That Star Lovers do
Take me to your heaven
I'll lay your odds to seven
And the Stars up in the sky
I can see them in your eyes
Oooo you are my Starchild...
Starchild...Starchild...
(Teena was often-sampled, most famously by The Fugees)
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Dancing is poetry with arms and legs
'The dance can reveal everything mysterious that is hidden in music, and it has the additional merit of being human and palpable. Dancing is poetry with arms and legs. It is matter, graceful and terrible, animated and embellished by movement'
(Charles Baudelaire, La Fanfarlo, 1847)
Photo of Mary Wigman, 1912, by Hugo Erfurth
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
The Black Album - Hanif Kureishi
Hanif Kureishi's novel The Black Album (1995) is, among other things, a great snapshot of late 1980s London. Its main protagonist, Shahid, is torn between the demands of militant Islamists at the time of the Rushdie Affair (1989) and the sexual and chemical possibilities of the secular world embodied in the rave scene.
There are some good descriptions of clubbing at the time with its mixture of love, ecstasy, crime, danger, joy and vacancy. Shahid's first E experience starts with a trip to a club in south London:
'The lip of the bridge was slipping them into the mouth of south London... They turned into a narrow cul-de-sac designed for murders, past workshops, lock-up garages and miserable-looking trees. They took a sharp corner into a lane. The building at the end, subtly vibrating, was the White Room. It was a silver warehouse.
In front of it was a forecourt along the centre of which had been laid a pathway of rolled barbed wire. The whole area was circled by a high fence and was washed in harsh yellow light, making it resemble a prison yard. Three pill-box entrances were manned by sentries mumbling into radios. Crowds surrounded them in the freezing night. Some kids, not admitted, clung shivering to the fence. Others attempted to climb it like refugees, yelling through at the building, before being yanked back to earth and pushed away.
Deedee gave her name and they were admitted. Filmed by security cameras, they swung through the floodlit walkway while being watched enviously. It was like being pop stars at a première. They entered a dark bar area of tables and chairs, where people sat drinking water and juice beneath billowing parachutes. Alcohol was not for sale.
‘This way.’
He followed her through maze-like tunnels of undulating canvas. Eventually they were released into a cavernous room containing at least five hundred people, where shifting coloured slides were projected on to the walls. There was a relentless whirlwind of interplanetary noises. Jets of kaleidoscopic light sprayed the air. Many of the men were bare-chested and wore only thongs; some of the women were topless or in just shorts and net tops. One woman was naked except for high heels and a large plastic penis strapped to her thighs with which she duetted. Others were garbed in rubber, or masks, or were dressed as babies. The dancing was frenzied and individual. People blew whistles, others screamed with pleasure…
With his eyes half closed, he peered into the incandescent ultra-violet haze. He noticed, through the golden mist, that no one appeared to have any great interest in anyone else, though people would fall into staring at one another. Then he was doing it; everyone was looking so beautiful. But before he could think why this might be, or why he was enjoying himself so much, an undertow of satisfaction rippled through him, as if some creature were sighing in his body. He felt he was going to be lifted off his feet. The feeling left him and he felt deserted. He wanted it back. It came and came. In a pounding trance he started writhing joyously, feeling he was part of a waving sea. He could have danced for ever, but not long after she said, ‘We should go.’
Electric waves of light flickered in the air. Fronds of fingers with flames spurting from them waved at the DJs, flown in from New York, sitting in their glass booths.
Afterward they head further south to a party in a squatted mansion:
They arrived at the ominous iron fence of a white mansion, the sort of place an English Gatsby would have chosen, he imagined. Trucks were parked in the driveway. Big men stood in the gloom. They searched Shahid, putting their hands down his trousers; he had to remove his socks and shake them while standing on one foot in the mud.
They went into the marble hall and found themselves staring up at a grand staircase. Then they passed the efficient cloakroom, the bar and the stuffed polar bear on its hind legs with a light in its mouth, traversed the deep white carpet, through doors, wide passageways and a conservatory where trees touched the roof, until they came to a Jacuzzi in which everyone was naked. Beyond was an illuminated indoor swimming pool. On its shadowy surface floated dozens of lemon and lime-coloured balloons. Beyond that the garden stretched away into the distance, lit by gassy blue flames. It was the perfect venue for a house party…
The house had been squatted the previous evening after being claimed by the drummer of the Pennies from Hell, a window cleaner who’d spotted it on his rounds. Tonight it was overrun by hordes of boys and girls from south London. They had pageboy haircuts, skateboard tops, baseball caps, hoods, bright ponchos and twenty-inch denim flares. Deedee said that most had probably never been inside such a house before, unless they were delivering the groceries. Now they were having the time of their lives. By the end of the weekend the house would be ashes. ‘The kids too,’ she added.
Deedee and Shahid started up the stairs, but dozens of people were coming down. Others danced where they stood with their hands in the air, crying, ‘Everybody’s free to feel good, everybody’s freee . . . ‘ Some just sat nodding their heads with their eyes closed. Then Shahid lost Deedee. On the landing a runty little wiry kid had taken up a pitch and was jigging about and shouting, ‘Want anything, want anything . . . Eeeee . . . E for the people! Up the working class!’
…Upstairs in the chillin’ space no one was vertical; kids were lying on the floor not moving — except to kiss or stroke one another — as if they’d been massacred. Shahid needed to join them, and he lay down, slotting into a space between the bodies. The moment he shut his eyes his mind, which in the past he had visualized as ancient and layered like a section through the earth’s crust, became a blazing oblong of light in which coloured shapes were dancing… He was high and accelerating — liquid, as if the furnace in his stomach was simmering his bone and muscle into lava. But what the girl said grated. Somewhere in his mind there lurked desolation: the things he normally liked had been drained off and not only could he not locate them, he couldn’t remember what they were. He needed to find a pen and list the reasons for living. But what on the list could be comparable to the feeling of this drug? He had been let into a dangerous secret; once it had been revealed, much of life, regarded from this high vantage point, could seem quite small.
He and the girl next to him were kissing, drawing on one another’s tongues until they felt their heads would fuse. Someone was lying down beside him and tugging at his shoulder. Shahid ignored them. The room had become one nameless body, one mouth and kiss.
…They clambered into the silence of the taxi and discovered their ears were yearning for music much as one’s stomach complains for food, but there was none available.
The song mentioned is Everybody's Free by Rozalla. I remember dancing to this at a party in Newcastle in 1991 to celebrate the release of a prisoner who had been jailed for refusing to pay the poll tax. On the chorus, everybody sang her name, 'Beccy Palmer's Free'.
There are some good descriptions of clubbing at the time with its mixture of love, ecstasy, crime, danger, joy and vacancy. Shahid's first E experience starts with a trip to a club in south London:
'The lip of the bridge was slipping them into the mouth of south London... They turned into a narrow cul-de-sac designed for murders, past workshops, lock-up garages and miserable-looking trees. They took a sharp corner into a lane. The building at the end, subtly vibrating, was the White Room. It was a silver warehouse.
In front of it was a forecourt along the centre of which had been laid a pathway of rolled barbed wire. The whole area was circled by a high fence and was washed in harsh yellow light, making it resemble a prison yard. Three pill-box entrances were manned by sentries mumbling into radios. Crowds surrounded them in the freezing night. Some kids, not admitted, clung shivering to the fence. Others attempted to climb it like refugees, yelling through at the building, before being yanked back to earth and pushed away.
Deedee gave her name and they were admitted. Filmed by security cameras, they swung through the floodlit walkway while being watched enviously. It was like being pop stars at a première. They entered a dark bar area of tables and chairs, where people sat drinking water and juice beneath billowing parachutes. Alcohol was not for sale.
‘This way.’
He followed her through maze-like tunnels of undulating canvas. Eventually they were released into a cavernous room containing at least five hundred people, where shifting coloured slides were projected on to the walls. There was a relentless whirlwind of interplanetary noises. Jets of kaleidoscopic light sprayed the air. Many of the men were bare-chested and wore only thongs; some of the women were topless or in just shorts and net tops. One woman was naked except for high heels and a large plastic penis strapped to her thighs with which she duetted. Others were garbed in rubber, or masks, or were dressed as babies. The dancing was frenzied and individual. People blew whistles, others screamed with pleasure…
With his eyes half closed, he peered into the incandescent ultra-violet haze. He noticed, through the golden mist, that no one appeared to have any great interest in anyone else, though people would fall into staring at one another. Then he was doing it; everyone was looking so beautiful. But before he could think why this might be, or why he was enjoying himself so much, an undertow of satisfaction rippled through him, as if some creature were sighing in his body. He felt he was going to be lifted off his feet. The feeling left him and he felt deserted. He wanted it back. It came and came. In a pounding trance he started writhing joyously, feeling he was part of a waving sea. He could have danced for ever, but not long after she said, ‘We should go.’
Electric waves of light flickered in the air. Fronds of fingers with flames spurting from them waved at the DJs, flown in from New York, sitting in their glass booths.
Afterward they head further south to a party in a squatted mansion:
They arrived at the ominous iron fence of a white mansion, the sort of place an English Gatsby would have chosen, he imagined. Trucks were parked in the driveway. Big men stood in the gloom. They searched Shahid, putting their hands down his trousers; he had to remove his socks and shake them while standing on one foot in the mud.
They went into the marble hall and found themselves staring up at a grand staircase. Then they passed the efficient cloakroom, the bar and the stuffed polar bear on its hind legs with a light in its mouth, traversed the deep white carpet, through doors, wide passageways and a conservatory where trees touched the roof, until they came to a Jacuzzi in which everyone was naked. Beyond was an illuminated indoor swimming pool. On its shadowy surface floated dozens of lemon and lime-coloured balloons. Beyond that the garden stretched away into the distance, lit by gassy blue flames. It was the perfect venue for a house party…
The house had been squatted the previous evening after being claimed by the drummer of the Pennies from Hell, a window cleaner who’d spotted it on his rounds. Tonight it was overrun by hordes of boys and girls from south London. They had pageboy haircuts, skateboard tops, baseball caps, hoods, bright ponchos and twenty-inch denim flares. Deedee said that most had probably never been inside such a house before, unless they were delivering the groceries. Now they were having the time of their lives. By the end of the weekend the house would be ashes. ‘The kids too,’ she added.
Deedee and Shahid started up the stairs, but dozens of people were coming down. Others danced where they stood with their hands in the air, crying, ‘Everybody’s free to feel good, everybody’s freee . . . ‘ Some just sat nodding their heads with their eyes closed. Then Shahid lost Deedee. On the landing a runty little wiry kid had taken up a pitch and was jigging about and shouting, ‘Want anything, want anything . . . Eeeee . . . E for the people! Up the working class!’
…Upstairs in the chillin’ space no one was vertical; kids were lying on the floor not moving — except to kiss or stroke one another — as if they’d been massacred. Shahid needed to join them, and he lay down, slotting into a space between the bodies. The moment he shut his eyes his mind, which in the past he had visualized as ancient and layered like a section through the earth’s crust, became a blazing oblong of light in which coloured shapes were dancing… He was high and accelerating — liquid, as if the furnace in his stomach was simmering his bone and muscle into lava. But what the girl said grated. Somewhere in his mind there lurked desolation: the things he normally liked had been drained off and not only could he not locate them, he couldn’t remember what they were. He needed to find a pen and list the reasons for living. But what on the list could be comparable to the feeling of this drug? He had been let into a dangerous secret; once it had been revealed, much of life, regarded from this high vantage point, could seem quite small.
He and the girl next to him were kissing, drawing on one another’s tongues until they felt their heads would fuse. Someone was lying down beside him and tugging at his shoulder. Shahid ignored them. The room had become one nameless body, one mouth and kiss.
…They clambered into the silence of the taxi and discovered their ears were yearning for music much as one’s stomach complains for food, but there was none available.
The song mentioned is Everybody's Free by Rozalla. I remember dancing to this at a party in Newcastle in 1991 to celebrate the release of a prisoner who had been jailed for refusing to pay the poll tax. On the chorus, everybody sang her name, 'Beccy Palmer's Free'.
Shahid's experiences open up a vision of the city as a giant desiring machine:
'This journey, as he headed home, involved a different disturbance. It had been the best night. Now he wanted to dream it again, luxuriating in what he remembered… he could see that today, although the secrets of desire were veiled, sexual tension was everywhere. He couldn’t doubt its circulating tangibility. Beneath the banality and repetition of this ordinary day there ran, like the warm inhabited tube tunnels under the city, flirtation, passion and the deepest curiosities. People dressed, gestured, moved, to display themselves and attract. They were sizing each other up, fantasizing, wanting to desire and be adored.
Skirts, shoes, haircuts, looks, gestures: enticement and fascination were everywhere, while the world went to work. And such allure wasn’t a preliminary to real sex, it was sex itself. Out there it was not innocent. People yearned for romance, desire, feeling. They wanted to be kissed, stroked, sucked, held and penetrated more than they could say. The platform of Baker Street Station was Arcadia itself. He had had no idea that the extraordinary would be alive and well on the Jubilee Line. Today he could see and feel the lure'.
The novel takes its title from Prince's famous lost album, available only on bootleg after its release was cancelled in 1987 (in the novel Shahid is a big Prince fan).
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