Music is My Mistress, Kahlil Joseph, 2017

Music is My Mistress, Kahlil Joseph, 2017

Introduction
From Raengo and Cramer, “The Unruly Archives of Black Music Video :

Midway through Kahlil Joseph’s short film Music Is My Mistress (2017), the cellist and singer Kelsey Lu turns to Ishmael Butler, a rapper and member of the hip-hop duo Shabazz Palaces, to ask a question. The dialogue is inaudible, but an intertitle appears on screen: “her: Who is your favorite filmmaker?” “him: Miles Davis.” As Joseph suggests in Music Is My Mistress, this generation of artists holds the freedom of expression achieved through Black music as an inspiration for formal experimentation in audiovisual media and approaches its filmmaking practice through musical processes, such as improvisation, remixing, looping, and sampling. Often working collaboratively, these artists have taken the music video into the art gallery and bridged the gap between this popular form, art cinema, and installation art.

The current phenomena of saturation, eclecticism, and innovation in Black music videos, visible in works like Beyoncé’s Lemonade (Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, Kahlil Joseph, Melina Matsoukas, Dikayl Rimmasch, Mark Romanek, Todd Tourso, Jonas Åkerlund, 2016) and Homecoming: A Film by Beyoncé (Beyoncé Knowles-Carter and Ed Burke, 2019), Jay-Z’s 4:44 (2017) music videos, and Donald Glover’s work across platforms, requires a closer, but also more expansive, look at Black artistic lineages, or what we call “ensembles,” to underscore fluid and sometimes intergenerational collaborations among several of the artists involved in this practice. “Ensemble” is also meant to evoke Fred Moten’s theorization of the relationship between the part and the whole, the soloist and the group, epitomized by the cooperative and improvisational relationship between musicians in the jazz ensemble, which he sees as constantly experimenting with forms of sociality as well as formal lawmaking and lawbreaking.[1] Indeed, we see this contemporary work, in part, as benefiting from a previous network of experimentations beginning with the politics of film form elaborated by the LA Rebellion filmmakers—Charles Burnett and Larry Clark, in particular—as channeled through what we call the “Howard Pedagogy Lab”: the mentorship of Haile Gerima, who trained cinematographers and filmmakers Ernest Dickerson, Malik Sayeed, Bradford Young, Jenn Nkiru, and Arthur Jafa.[2] We also note how these contemporary videos build on the feminist and experimental sensibilities advanced by filmmakers such as Barbara McCullough, Kathy Collins, and Julie Dash. Black music, for this previous generation of filmmakers, constituted a model of actualization, of exploration, and of intergenerational relations—a living archive of the past and a laboratory for the imagination of the future. That imagined future is now the present concern for both Black Studies scholars and contemporary visual artists.

Whether it is Jafa’s “Black Visual Intonation” (the study of how Black image making might aspire to “the beauty and alienation of Black music”), Young’s “Black intentionality” (to underscore the political valence of form), or Nkiru’s “cosmic archeology” (using visual culture archives to excavate the energetic lineages of Black memory), Black contemporary artists who are redefining the music video form all share a commitment to “Black study” visualized through images that reverberate with the vibrational intensity of the music that inspires them.[3] As Charles “Chip” Linscott indicates in his essay, we can follow this interplay through decades of Black music, film, and video history. Our starting point is the opening of Larry Clark’s 1977 film Passing Through, dedicated to musicians “known and unknown”; it begins with the chatter of musicians and the sound of instruments being tuned. In other words, we can actually hear the music—the practice, the process, and the ensemble—coming together. Writing on the beginning of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” which similarly features the sounds of congregation, Moten argues, “What emerges is a form, out of something that we call informality.”[4] This informality, which, Moten clarifies, is not formlessness, emphasizes music making’s groundedness in modes of sociality, process, and Black study. Perhaps because of this informality, which occurs as part of a still-developing artistic practice, this “golden age of the Black music video” has been the most thoroughly documented by journalists rather than by academics.[5] Thus, while the role of Black music in Black filmmaking is not entirely new, what perhaps is new is that the theoretical concepts developed by Jafa, Young, and Nkiru now appear as a matter of fact and part of a critical mass in the popular press.[6]

[1] Fred Moten, In the Break: The Aesthetics of the Black Radical Tradition (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003).

[2] Interview with Alessandra Raengo, “Bradford Young—The Visual Art of Black Care,” Vimeo video, 23:18, liquid blackness, September 26, 2018, https://vimeo.com/291961328. See also his collaboration with Common, Black America Again (2016).

[3] Harney and Moten describe “Black study” as a noninstitutional way of “thinking with others,” that experiments with different forms of sociality and what they call “fugitivity.” See Stefano Harney and Fred Moten, The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning and Black Study (New York: Minor Compositions, 2013). See also Arthur Jafa, “Black Visual Intonation,” in The Jazz Cadence of American Culture, ed. Robert G. O’Meally (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 264–268. Jafa mistrusts synchronized sound because it subjects Black bodies and voices to the demands of coherence of the cinematic apparatus. He prefers the fugitivity of postdubbed sound. See Arthur Jafa and Tina Campt, “Love is the Message, The Plan Is Death,” e-flux 81, https://www.e-flux.com/journal/81/126451/love-is-the-message-the-plan-is-death.

[4] Harney and Moten, Undercommons, 129.

[5] See Danielle A. Scruggs, “We’re in the Golden Age of the Black Music Video,” Artsy, August 8, 2017, https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-golden-age-Black-music-video; Hilton Als, “The Black Excellence of Kahlil Joseph,” The New Yorker, November 6, 2017, https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/11/06/the-Black-excellence-of-kahlil-joseph.

[6] Nate Freeman, “The Messenger: How a Video by Arthur Jafa Became a Worldwide Sensation—and Described America to Itself,” Artnews, March 27, 2018, http://www.artnews.com/2018/03/27/icons-arthur-jafa; Tene Croom, “Common, Bradford Young unveil ‘Black America Again’ at Carnegie Museum of Art, New Pittsburgh Courier, July 12, 2017, https://newpittsburghcourier.com/2017/07/13/common-bradford-young-unveil-short-film-Black-america-again-at-carnegie-museum-of-art; Jenn Nkiru’s Brain-Bending Vision,” Financial Times, February 7, 2019, https://www.ft.com/content/05d2648a-292f-11e9-9222-7024d72222bc#comments.

Larry Clark’s Lineages to Come

 
Musicians Known and Unknown. Passing Through, Larry Clark, 1977, opening image, frame grab. Courtesy of the artist.

Musicians Known and Unknown. Passing Through, Larry Clark, 1977, opening image, frame grab. Courtesy of the artist.

 

Sources:

Raengo, “Introduction: Passing Through Film/Passing Through Jazz, liquid blackness 2, no. 5 (2015)

Restivo, “The Sound of Color/The Color of Sound: The Aesthetics of Passing Through,liquid blackness 2, no. 5 (2015)

Tobias, “Three Lines for Passing Through: The Sound, Image and Haptics  of Radical Insight  from the Undercommons,” liquid blackness 2, no. 5 (2015)

Raengo. Black Study @ GSU: The Albumliquid blackness 1 April 2021; 5 (1): 5–25.

 Kahlil Joseph’s musical filmmaking

 
Kahlil Joseph_Wildcat_cowboy.jpg
Kahlil Joseph_Wildcat_little girl.jpg

Wildcat, Kahlil Joseph, 2014 (shot by Malik Sayeed)

 

 In his talk at the New Museum in occasion of the installation of Kahlil Joseph’s single-channel work, Fly Paper, Arthur Jafa describes Kahlil as a self-authorizing artist who makes work with an extraordinary amount of ontological integrity and mixes multiple  tracks in the same “video”. Jafa identifies Spike Lee’s “Tutu Medley” video as the preeminent example of “breaking up the music” to serve as a visual map but finds in Joseph’s work much greater ability to do so.

In his essay “Secret History and Visual Riffs, or, Miles Davis, Alice Coltrane, and Flying Lotus go to the Movies,”  Charles “Chip” Linscott, calls attention to the historiographical repercussions of some statements Arthur Jafa made during a 2017 “Tate Talk” about Joseph’s work.  Jafa contended that Kahlil Joseph makes music videos that employ “music as a structure for a visual pattern.”[i] Jafa went on to argue that these musically founded visual patterns reveal “continuities [or] secret histories” at work in black music and black visual culture. Careful analysis of the interplay between the musical works and their visual counterparts reveals the vital imbrications of black sociality, improvisational praxis, black arts of remixing and sampling, and the specific difficulties and triumphs of black cultural production. Such analysis goes beyond traditional distinctions regarding form and content, extending deeply into history, theme, theoretical/philosophical positions, and notions of black artistic praxis and cultural memory. Along with Jafa and Joseph, he asks how music seeps into and across these moving images, providing opportunities for deeper understandings of both when taken together. In analyzing the complicated interrelationships shared by these particular musical and moving image objects, we find “secret histories” that are deeply staked into black culture, with face-value meanings doubling, tripling, and blooming exponentially into other denotations. From signifyin’ to slave songs, code switching in perpetual eras of white supremacy, and the encrypted messages of hip-hop lyricism, the “secrecy” relies upon close attention to what we might call underground continuities in the artworks and their contexts.

This sort of investigation entails what he calls a retroactive visibility whereby the overlooked musical foundations of particular black films and music videos become clear alongside the complex temporalities at work across lineages of black filmmaking.

His essay follows these “secret histories and visual riffs” by focusing on the relationships between music and image in William Greaves’s groundbreaking Symbiopsychotaxiplasm (1968), with music from Miles Davis’s In a Silent Way (1969); Spike Lee’s music video “Tutu Medley” (1986) for four tracks from Miles Davis’s album Tutu (1986); and Kahlil Joseph’s short film and gallery installation Wildcat (2013), which features Alice Coltrane’s music as reworked by Flying Lotus.

[i] “Kahlil Joseph & Arthur Jafa: In Conversation: Tate Talks,” Aug 10, 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otPECh1Q2xQ. All subsequent Jafa quotations come from this talk.


Sources:
“Kahlil Joseph & Arthur Jafa: In Conversation: Tate Talks,” Aug 10, 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otPECh1Q2xQ. All subsequent Jafa quotations come from this talk.

Charles “Chip” P. Linscott. "In a (Not So) Silent Way: Listening Past Black Visuality in Symbiopsychotaxiplasm." Black Camera 8, no. 1 (2016): 169-190.

Artist Talk @ GSU: Holding Blackness in Suspension: The Films of Kahlil Joseph

 

“Arthur Jafa on the works of Kahlil Joseph, with curator Natalie Bell.” New Museum, December 10, 2017.

“Kahlil Joseph & Arthur Jafa: In Conversation | Tate Talks.” YouTube, uploaded by Tate Talks, August 10, 2017.

 

Video Sources:

Tutu Medley  (Spike Lee/Miles Davis, 1986)

Wildcat (Kahlil Joseph, 2013)

Black Up (Kahlil Joseph, 2011)        

Until the Quiet Comes (Kahlil Joseph, 2013)

 

Processes of rememory are central parts of the contemplative tradition of Black essay films, James Tobias explains, since they use their generic indeterminacy to interpret the relationship between individual and collective memory mediated through sonic archives. In his essay, he focuses primarily on Process (for Sampha, 2017).

Additionally, as Lauren McLeod Cramer shows in her essay  “Icons of Catastrophe: Diagramming Blackness in Until the Quiet Comes,” the short film lends itself to an architectural analysis, which emphasizes the way the film pushes the architectures of anti-blackness to the verge of catastrophe to offer an alternative diagramming of blackness.


Sources
:              
“Chip” Linscott, “Secret History and Visual Riffs, or, Miles Davis, Alice Coltrane, and Flying Lotus go to the Movies.”  JCMS: Journal of Cinema and Media Studies 59, no. 2 (2020)

“Chip” Linscott, Miles Davis, Spike Lee, and the Sonic Establishing Shot,” In Media Res, Tuesday, April 28, 2020

 James Tobias, "The Music Film as Essay: Montage as Argument in Khalil Joseph's Fly Paper and Process." JCMS: Journal of Cinema and Media Studies 59, no. 2 (2020)

Lauren Cramer, “Icons of Catastrophe: Diagramming Blackness in Until the Quiet Comes,liquid blackness 4, no. 7 (October 2017)

Jenn Nkiru’s Sampling Practice

 
En Vogue, Jenn Nkiru, 2014

En Vogue, Jenn Nkiru, 2014


Jenn Nkiru is the youngest artist in the lineage liquid blackness has been following to have been part of the Howard University pedagogy lab. She has talked about how working as a DJ has informed her filmmaking practice. She has been in deep theoretical conversation with Arthur Jafa’s aesthetic theories and both Jafa and Bradford Young have worked as cinematographers on her MFA thesis film En Vogue, and Young also shot Black to Techno. Nkiru and Young are also part of Umma Chroma, which also comprises Kamasi  Washington, Terence Nance and Marc Thomas.

In her essay, “Intergenerational Pedagogy in Jenn Nkiru’s Rebirth is Necessary,” Jenny Gunn regards Nkiru’s filmmaking process’s reliance on digging into and remixing the Black sonic and visual archive. She shows how, by additionally making her work available in online spaces, Nkiru enacts a deliberate pedagogical practice, inviting a sort of “think-along” for future generations of artists and scholars.

Sources:
Gunn, Jenny. “Intergenerational Pedagogy in Jenn Nkiru’s Rebirth is Necessary,JCMS: Journal of Cinema and Media Studies 59, no. 2 (2020)

Artist Talk @ GSU: Jenn Nkiru’s Panafrican Imagination: Black Studies as Aesthetic Practice - experience as DJ

 

En Vogue presents the coherence of a traditional music video and yet its soundtrack is comprised of two samples: one from MIA’s Yala and the other from MikeQ’s Get Sum. By mixing these two samples, the film creates a sonic space that transcends both diegetic sound and non-diegetic traditional music-video soundtrack. Thus it is worth reflecting on whether it is the soundtrack that moves the editing structure of the film or vice versa. Additionally, by looking at Grand Master Flash’s lesson on “how to do a break mix” (1983) it might  be possible to match specific edits from the film to one of the breaks described by Grand Master Flash.

En Vogue (Jenn Nkiru 2014, MFA thesis @ Howard University)

Grand Master Flash’s lesson on “how to do a break mix” (1983)

 

Jenn Nkiru’s Cosmic Archeology

 

REBIRTH IS NECESSARY, Jenn Nkiru, 2017

From: Gunn, Jenny. “Intergenerational Pedagogy in Jenn Nkiru’s Rebirth is Necessary,JCMS: Journal of Cinema and Media Studies 59, no. 2 (2020)

Attesting to both the influence of music video and her prior experience as a DJ, Nkiru insists on the vital role of sound on her aesthetic formation and in her filmmaking practice.[1] Her 2017 short film REBIRTH IS NECESSARY vigorously reflects this genealogy. Featuring a variety of audio and video archival materials—including samples of Sun Ra, James Baldwin, Fred Moten, Steve Reich, Kathleen Cleaver, and Alice Coltrane, among many others—as well as original footage shot in South Africa and her native South London, it enacts what Nkiru has deemed a “cosmic archaeology” of life and filmmaking in the African diaspora.[2] Montage predominates as the aesthetic organization of the film, recalling the remix logic of hip-hop sampling.[3] Like early hip-hop, the experience of the work is frenetic. The video features a variety of one- to five-second audio and video archival clips, which makes the project of mapping its narrative organization and references daunting. Given its density and complexity, one might assume that Nkiru’s archival resources were drawn from a public access archive such as the BBC, but in fact Nkiru and her production team personally sought out permissions from each source, revealing a disciplined intention behind the use of each clip.[4] Because of its intense reliance on archival footage, Nkiru has described REBIRTH IS NECESSARY as akin to a bibliography, an observation which led the liquid blackness research group to think through her work as black studies in aesthetic practice.[5]

 

Rebirth Video Archive 1.png
 


The video channel Nowness produced REBIRTH IS NECESSARY for their Blackstar series, which features upcoming directors’ reflections on the Black experience. In Nkiru’s words, it is “like therapy. It’s where I got to reconcile my worlds—the material and the spiritual, the human and divine. This film is jazz; black magic in motion.”[6] In our study of REBIRTH IS NECESSARY, the liquid blackness research group quickly determined that sequential analysis alone would be inadequate for mapping the film’s aesthetic. Rather, REBIRTH IS NECESSARY demands a methodology of excavation, of digging into its sequences. The film is divided into a variety of sections through the use of textual intertitles, quotations, and subtitles, but to determine its structure based on the placement of the intertitles would be misleading and even violates the experience of the film to a certain extent. The text functions primarily as a staccato punctuation, adding rhythmic complexity to the experience of the film while also suggesting thematic resonances for each of its individual sequences of visual imagery

 

 

 

Black to Techno, Jenn Nkiru, 2019. Publicity stills, courtesy of the artist

Nkiru’s Black to Techno is another example of her cosmic archeology. In this film she excavates sites in Detroit that are birthplaces of techno music in the context of what Louis Chude-Sokey would describe as “technopoetics,” the imbrication of race and technology, including mechanized labor. Techno’s diasporic and global history emerges in a confluence of layered voices, performances, and oral history narration, itself shaped as modality of music-making in response to the rhythms of the “machine.”


Sources:         
Weheliye, Alexander G. Phonographies: Grooves in sonic Afro-modernity. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2005.

Chude-Sokei, Louis. The Sound of Culture: Diaspora and Black Technopoetics. Wesleyan University Press, 2015.


[1] Ali Hanan, “Director Jenn Nkiru on Greenlighting Projects, Life without a Mentor and Her Love of 35mm,” The Drum, April 23, 2018,; Jenn Nkiru, interview by British Council, 2018.

[2] Harriet Fitch Little, “Film-Maker Jenn Nkiru’s Brain-Bending Vision,” Financial Times, February 7, 2019.

[3] Jenn Nkiru, “Jenn Nkiru’s Panafrican Imagination: Black Studies as Aesthetic Practice” (screening and artist talk, Georgia State University, Atlanta, GA, April 14, 2019).

[4] Jenn Nkiru, “Masterclass with Jenn Nkiru” (lecture, Georgia State University, Atlanta, GA, April 15, 2019).

[5] Jenn Nkiru and Jumoke Adeyanju, “YAASAA with Jenn Nkiru,” Berlin Community Radio; “Jenn Nkiru Research Page,” liquid blackness (blog), January 21, 2019.

[6] Black Star: Rebirth Is Necessary.

 

Georgia State University Student Work on Jenn Nkiru:

 

Ashley Triplett. Artist Statement:
S.I.S. “Strength in Solidarity” (2020) is a visual production project that explores the lack of verbal expression of black women in cinema, and illustrates how silence does not equate weakness, but rather projects strength, fortitude, and regality. Each of the works featured in this video essay, Julie dash’s 4 women, The Carter’s Apeshit, Jenn Nkiru’s Women are Present and Beyonce Knowles Carter’s “All Night, exemplify historical importance, as well as, transcendent emotion.

S.I.S., Ashley Triplett

 

Ashley Triplett is a visual creator based in Atlanta, Georgia. She grew up playing an array of sports in different states and countries, which lead to her career as a collegiate soccer player at both West Virginia University and Georgia State University. Her experiences as a student athlete, immersed in adversity, and deep appreciation for knowledge and people combined with her passion for the cinematic arts birthed a career motivated by illustrating honoring and purposeful works that engage viewers in a “more-than-just-a-story” interaction. Ashley graduated magna cum laude with a bachelor of the arts from Georgia State University in December 2020.