2B —Thursday, October 25, 2018
b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
What democracy looks like: The
intersection of art and activism
When politics are brought up, it
invokes a series of reactions. Some
may jump at the term, desperate
for any chance to share their bona
fide beliefs. Others will recoil,
either because of their discomfort
in
disclosing
their
political
dispositions
or
embarrassment
at their ignorance of the topic.
Politics can ruin friendships, first
dates and Thanksgiving dinners —
particularly now, at a time during
which one’s politics has seemingly
become the defining pillar of their
character. In this polarized state
that too often turns ugly, it may
seem ridiculous to try and find any
beauty in the chaos.
Yet, that it is exactly what many
have set out to do. To people of
all ages and backgrounds, the
tumultuous country they have
found themselves living in is not
one where they feel defeated,
but rather compelled to fight on.
With every shocking decision and
revolting remark, there is a new
protest, a new fundraiser, a new
movement looking to help anyone
that may need it. In the darkness
of prejudice and intolerance comes
the fire of activism, and there is
no better way to express such
passion than through the universal
medium of art.
The
Center
for
Artistic
Activism, based in New York City,
defines artistic activism as “a
dynamic practice combining the
creative power of the arts to move
us emotionally with the strategic
planning of activism necessary to
bring about social change.” Simply
put, this form of art is meant to
make the viewer feel something
powerful; to make them want to
promote change. In 2014, during a
seemingly unending string of mass
shootings, artist Michael Murphy
created an installation of toy guns
shaped as the the United States.
During the Women’s March, news
sources hung onto pictures of hand-
woven pussy hats and personally
made signs. These images provoked
thought, hope and a desire to make
the future different.
Amplifier is a design lab based
in Seattle. Its specialty is activist
art and its mission is to “flip artists
into activists, and observers into
participants,” according to its
website. While you may not have
heard of Amplifier, you have
definitely seen the work of its
artists. The now-iconic image of a
woman wearing an American flag
hijab was a part of Amplifier’s “We
The People” campaign, which its
website describes as “a nonpartisan
campaign dedicated to igniting a
national dialogue about American
identity and values through public
art and story sharing.”
In an email interview with The
Daily, Deputy Director of Amplifier,
Cleo Barnett explained the “We
The Future” campaign as a way of
“moving energy and ideas from our
streets into our classrooms.”
Following
the
success
and
impact of “We The People,”
Amplifier has moved on to a new
project: supplementing education
with art. The organization’s latest
campaign, titled “We The Future,”
looks
to
replace
traditional
classroom posters and resources
with ones made by more diverse
and
activist-minded
artists.
Young leaders from various social
movements including gun control,
climate protection, immigration
and
voting
rights
are
being
represented through art and stories
to inspire the next generation of
activists. The hope is that by seeing
activists that more closely align
with themselves, rather than old,
white presidents or an outdated
propaganda poster, students will
in turn feel an internalized need to
participate.
Barnett
reiterated
the
goals of Amplifier as a way to
ignite creativity and promote
representation.
“Our goal is to reclaim and
rebuild an American identity rooted
in equality, dignity, diversity, truth
and beauty,” Barnett wrote, “For
young people who are not used to
seeing themselves in history books
or on the walls of classrooms, what
Amplifier and its partners are
distributing is more than art.”
Bayeté
Ross
Smith
is
a
multimedia
artist,
filmmaker
and educator who has previously
done work with Amplifier. As a
photographer, his work often falls
under the category of turning
observers into participants.
“Far too often people will take
a very surface approach to (social
issues) and won’t dig deeper,” he
said in a phone interview with The
Daily. “That often means that we’re
not getting involved in constructive
and productive exchanges of ideas.
… You see the work I do and you
have a certain reaction to it, my
hope is one will question why they
had that reaction, the validity of
that reaction and why their reaction
was different from someone else’s.”
When it comes to viewing
art, the way one receives and is
impacted by a piece comes down to
perspective.
“I
think
one’s
personal
foundation is always the foundation
for the lense through which they
see the world,” Smith said. “If we
were all sitting in the same room
and we were to photograph it, all
of our photographs would look a bit
different. They’ll all technically be
truthful, but they’ll still be vastly
different. You can see the same
thing from different perspectives
and see various forms of truth, it’s
just important to be aware of how
our perspectives impact us.”
Using art as a form of activism
is not an exclusively contemporary
concept. For decades, the voices of
the oppressed are most strongly
shown in the literature and
artwork they create. This creativity
has filtered through generations,
impacting the modernized form
of various historical movements
and weaving itself into the public
sphere. A controversial example
of this is Beyoncé’s use of the style
of the Black Panther Party in her
2017 Super Bowl Halftime show to
support to the Black Lives Matter
movement and the issues facing
the Black community. Much of the
Black Panther Party’s image and
protest was projected in its style,
as it challenged conventional looks
of the time. Their daring artistry
has stood the test of time, as has
the legacy of a magnitude of social
movements from American history.
On the special collections floor
of the Hatcher Graduate Library,
the Labadie Collection is housed
in hidden stacks. An anthology
of pamphlets, posters, buttons,
newspapers and other materials
from activist movements dating
back to the early 20th century,
the collection has been a part of
University archives since 1911. It
was donated by Joseph Labadie, a
Mich. native who was active in the
anarchist and labor movements of
the late 1800s.
Julie Herrada has been the
curator of the Labadie Collection
since 2000. Before that, she was
assistant curator for six years.
She says while the collection still
gathers modern anarchist and
labor literature, it has grown into
a selection of a variety of activist
materials from around the United
States and the world.
“The original donation from
Joseph Labadie was early-19th-
century
materials
on
labor
movements, socialist and anarchist
movements, then with each curator
it grew in size to include those
contemporary movements of the
day,” Herrada said in an interview
with The Daily. “Whatever was
happening within the time period
of the curator, they could start
collecting that and adding so the
collection included all forms of
social protest and all countries, so it
has an international scope as well.”
The existence of the Labadie
Collection, and particularly its
earlier pieces, makes for a vital
comparison of activist art from
over a century ago to an image
created today. While the anarchist
and labor movements that started
the collection may now seem
dormant, that does not diminish its
importance.
“I think it’s important for people
who are in college now to know
that these the movements had
relevance and were important in
their time and how people spread
the word about those messages,”
Herrada explained. “You can look
at something online and you will
really not get the same feeling
about it as if you’re holding it in
your hands. Maybe hundreds of
people held it in their hands and
maybe the first person who held it
in their hands was the person who
created it. It gives you a sense of
excitement about connecting to the
past.”
Connections to the past are
exactly what viewers of the Labadie
Collection are looking for. Herrada
said the collection is often visited
by classes at the University — three
had observed the pieces just on the
one day we held our interview —
and students and professors alike
generally have the same response.
“When they are reading some of
the documents from 50 years ago
they see how relevant the content
is to today,” Herrada noted. “It’s
something that could’ve been
written yesterday, as opposed to
50 years ago, and I always see them
kind of surprised by that. We’ve
come so far in our society but yet
we are still arguing about these
same things.”
Whether it is the advancement
of labor rights, the recognition
of
transgender
individuals
or
the continuation of the fight for
civil rights, the United States has
experienced
expansive
social
crusades for centuries. Though
the outright goal of these activists
may differ, their core values remain
the same throughout movements.
Be it laborers campaigning for fair
treatment and working conditions
or
the
LGBT
community
demanding basic human rights,
activism grows out of admitting
something is wrong and unjust and
demanding to live your life — while
inspiring others to do the same — in
any way that can make a difference.
So many people brush aside
social issues because they have
heard about it but don’t know
enough or they think someone
else is taking care of it. Art has the
power to change this indifference.
It
transcends
language
and
backgrounds
to
reach
people
in a way that transforms the
problem into something tangible,
something that applies to them.
Unlike speeches, news reports and
monotonous facts, art conjures
emotions
and
thoughtfulness.
As Smith said, “You now feel in
your heart that responding to this
event or occurrence or dynamic
in the world is an important and
relevant part of your daily life.
Art takes things that we may be
able to intellectualize, and makes
them actively relevant to our daily
experiences in a provocative and
compelling way.”
According to Amplifier’s Deputy
Director, Cleo Barnett, “Art is
more than beauty or decoration: It
is a weapon and a shield. Art has
the power to wake people up and
serve as a catalyst for real change.
It is a megaphone for important
but unheard voices that need
amplifying. It is a bridge that can
unite movements with shared
values in ways other mediums
cannot. Art gives us symbols to
gather around, builds community,
and helps us feel like we are not
alone.”
To learn more about the work of
Amplifier, Cleo Barnett or Bayeté
Ross Smith visit amplifier.org and
bayeterosssmith.com.
The Labadie Collection may be
viewed by request on the sixth floor
of the Hatcher Graduate Library.
SAMANTHA DELLA FERA
Daily Arts Writer
COURTESY OF AMPLIFIER
BSIDE LEAD
COURTESY OF LABADIE COLLECTION
If I hear ‘America
First’ in a movie
again, I will die
The
next
time
someone
quotes Donald Trump in a
movie and tries to pass it off as
political satire, I am going to
spontaneously combust in the
theater.
It’s a feeling that began
festering
inside
me
this
summer when I watched “The
First Purge” and bore witness
to a scene in which a man in a
dollar store demon mask grabs
a woman by her nether regions
only to be fought off and declared
a — ahem — “p*ssy-grabbing
motherf*cker.” Since then, it’s
only grown, and most recently
it reached its climax with my
viewing of “Venom,” which
saw fit to include a scene where
the villain dismisses reports
of human experimentation as
“fake news.”
“It’s going to happen,” I
realized then. “My soul will
detonate, and it will take my
body with it.”
To be clear, these are not
the words of an angry Trump
supporter who can no longer
bear the thought of those
dastardly Hollywood liberals
besmirching the good name of
the Donald. Quite the opposite
— I believe film and satire
are art forms uniquely suited
to
tackle
the
problems posed
by the current
administration
and
galvanize
the
public
in
opposition
to
them.
The
problem
now
is
we’re
not
satirizing
Trump.
We’re
just sarcastically
repeating
what
he says.
The
foundation
of
satire is taking
an ideology and
turning it inside
out, whether it’s
“Cabin in the Woods” turning
horror tropes into a workplace
comedy or “The Death of Stalin”
turning the murderous power-
jockeying of post-Stalin Soviet
politics into a Monty Python-
esque farce. Whatever the case,
there’s an idea that’s being
engaged with and subverted.
The
problem
is
we’ve
been foregoing this analysis
in favor of simply quoting
Trump and leaving it at that,
shifting the focus away from
where
it
should
be
both
politically
and
satirically:
his actions. Trump could be
a thespian of Shakespearean
wit and vocabulary, and if he
still
dehumanizes
everyone
who isn’t a straight, white,
American-born man with his
every action, he would remain
the worst president we’ve had
this side of World War II. We
should be able to take stock
of what he’s done and build a
movie around something.
Yet for whatever reason,
Hollywood seems reluctant to
move away from mere quotes
in favor of something more
substantial and lasting. Instead,
we get Alec Baldwin’s gaudy,
inexplicably
Emmy
Award-
winning Trump caricature. We
get “The First Purge” dressing
half its cast like Nazis with
a leather fetish. We get the
aforementioned “fake news”
line
in
“Venom”
and
any
number of other films like it.
This doesn’t mean any movie, in
order to make a statement, has
to be straight political jargon,
either. Just look at “Star Wars.”
Die-hard saga fans and film
history buffs will probably
know
that
the
original
trilogy is a critique of Nixon-
era
politics,
particularly
regarding the Vietnam War,
in which the technologically
advanced Empire stood in for
America and the underdog
Rebellion took cues from the
Viet Cong. Those weren’t the
only influences — Lucas took
inspiration
from
everything
from World War II dogfights
to western serials to Japanese
cinema — but through it all,
the framework was kept the
same: a hostile, technologically
advanced,
imperialist
force
tries and fails to overcome a
much smaller opposition.
Those
political
musings
continued into the prequels,
with Lucas aiming to tell a
story of how democracies can
be supplanted from within.
By the time “Revenge of the
Sith” rolled around in 2005,
he had updated his real-world
targets to include Dick Cheney
and George W. Bush. Even
the sequels, which began as a
what-if scenario on the idea of
Nazis regrouping in Argentina,
evolved into a commentary
on the entitlement and fragile
identity politics at the core of
the alt-right as time went on
and the movement entered the
mainstream.
Popular entertainment and
political analysis don’t need to
be kept separate. They just need
to be smart about it. As with the
Force, there has to be a balance.
If Luke had walked into the
throne room in “Return of
the Jedi” and the Emperor
had started belting out Nixon
quotes,
something
magical
would have been lost. Likewise,
if
Lucas
hadn’t been so
passionate about
communicating
his
political
beliefs
to
the
masses,
“Star
Wars” may not
have
gotten
made, and the
landscape
of
cinema
as
we
know it would
be
a
different
— and, I would
argue, worse —
place.
On the other
hand, if a film
wants
to
be
through-and-
through political, it has its own
tightrope to walk: It has to toe
the line between resembling
a cultural moment enough
to be relevant and distanced
enough from that moment to
continue to be relevant years
and even decades down the
road.
“BlacKkKlansman”
comes as close as any film I’ve
seen
to
satirizing
Trump-
era politics as it presents and
combats an ideology, but it then
makes the mistake of explicitly
tying itself to Trump. Instead
of being about the continual
reoccurrence of white hate,
it becomes about one specific
reoccurrence. It will be all too
easy for future generations of
nationalists to pass over it once
the age of Trump has ended:
“That’s not about us. It’s about
Trump, see?”
Compare
that
to
“Wag
the Dog,” which follows a
Washington spin doctor and a
Hollywood producer as they
construct a fake war to distract
from a presidential sex scandal.
The film is based on a book that
acted as a critique of Desert
Storm, but it was released on
Dec. 17, 1997, exactly one month
before the Monica Lewinsky
scandal broke and about nine
months before Clinton was
accused of bombing suspected
al-Qaeda bases to distract from
said scandal. The film was
famously brought up then, but
in the age of “Look over there!”
politics, “Wag the Dog” has
stayed relevant, its message
adaptable to multiple political
climates but never less than
incisive.
That’s what we should be
striving for: Films that can
combat Trump, that can show
people who may not otherwise
realize what he truly is, but
which won’t lose their meaning
the moment he leaves office.
I’m not saying it’s going to be
easy. But it will, I believe, be
worth it.
JERMIAH VANDERHELM
Daily Arts Writer
FILM NOTEBOOK
‘It’s going to
happen,’ I
realized then.
‘My soul will
detonate, and
it will take my
body with it.’