The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
6 — Wednesday, February 24, 2021
Last week, the Zell Visiting Writers
Series, sponsored by the Helen Zell
Writers’ Program, featured Marcelo
Hernandez Castillo, a renowned poet
and graduate of the University of
Michigan who recently published his
first memoir “Children of the Land.”
During the event, which took place
over Zoom, Castillo shared his work,
talked about his career and answered
questions for the public in an hour and
a half long talk with faculty, staff and
community members.
The meeting opened with a
heartfelt introduction from Castillo’s
editor, Sofia Groopman, who told
us how the two had met. When
she first read his poetry, she felt
the fundamental trust that exists
between a writer and their editor — an
unnamable reliance as mysterious as
it is strong; she knew she had to work
with him.
Castillo possesses many laureates:
He is a graduate of the University’s
Master of Fine Arts program and
is the first undocumented student
to have done so. He is the founder
of Undocupoets, a group of poets
who support and advocate for other
undocumented poets, and a published
author. His award-winning poetry
was also recently adapted into an
opera and now most recently, his
memoir was published. This latest
work, which has been nominated
for multiple awards and praised
heavily, tells his story of being an
undocumented immigrant crossing
the border to becoming a celebrated
modern poet.
Following his introduction, Castillo
took some time to read a few excerpts
from his work. Even though he sat
alone in his room, his enthusiasm
and charisma could be felt from miles
away. Every pause in his reading,
every extra emphasis in his voice, all
served to illustrate the complex and
vibrant picture that was his poetry.
He began with the titular poem from
his first book, “Cenzóntle.”
An emotional piece, it can only be
summarized by a quote:
“Because the bird flew before there
was a word for flight years from now
there will be a name for what you and
I are doing.”
These were the opening lines to the
poem — each line that followed grew
more ethereal, packed with yearning,
loss and emotions too complicated
to name. Although the audience
could not be viewed from Zoom’s
speaker setup, it was clear they were
enraptured (I know I was). Sometimes
while watching a performer you can
see their passion for their work in
every move they make, and you know
that this is what they were meant
to do — this is how it felt listening to
Castillo.
He then read an excerpt from his
memoir: a chapter detailing what it
was like to send his mother back to
Mexico as she self-deported. Taking
place 12 years after his father was also
deported, Castillo and his siblings had
to experience the pain and sorrow
again, but this time in the new,
bitter context of knowing they were
sending their mother to be alone with
her abusive husband and they may
never be together as a family again.
Beautifully written, it was clear from
every twist and quiver of the words
that this heart-wrenching story was
written by a poet.
Following his readings, Castillo
entered a Q&A session with Nadia
Mota, a current graduate student at
the University. When asked about his
graduate experience at the University,
Castillo reminisced on the invaluable
community he found in the writer’s
program and has since returned to his
alma mater as part of the Zell Visiting
Writers Program to teach and advise
current students on their writing.
On Feb. 9, HBO aired a new documentary
directed by the renowned Sam Pollard, known
for his work in the 1998 Academy Award-
nominated documentary “4 Little Girls.” The
documentary, “Black Art: In the Absence of Light,”
is an enlightening, 90-minute-long experience
cultivated by the insight of artists ranging from
Carrie Mae Weems to Kehinde Wiley, alongside
other notable curators, collectors and scholars. It is
an analysis of every stepping stone that has helped
forge the path for Black artists and the emergence
of Black American art within a predominantly
white sphere.
The documentary centers its narrative around
David C. Driskell’s 1976 exhibition “Two Centuries
of Black American Art” at the Los Angeles County
Museum of Art, which compiled 200 years of art
history using 63 carefully chosen artists. The event
became a social-historical phenomenon by shining
a light on the legacy of Black American artists.
The discourse of “Black Art: In the Absence of
Light” centers around institutions and their role in
providing a sense of belonging. Museums, through
their collection and exhibition practices, play a
crucial part in the representation of the Black
community, whose talent has long been ignored
by mainstream American society. Art historian
Maurice Berger, who gives his insight on the role
of institutions throughout the film, exposes a
clear problem of museum curation when he states
that 85% of artists in the collections of American
museums are white and that only a shocking 1.2%
are Black.
Driskell’s “Two Centuries” paved the way
for the numerous movements, museums and
exhibitions that emerged towards the end of the
20th century, facilitating the introduction of Black
art in the mainstream fine art sphere. However, it
has certainly not been a smooth path.
The film recalls “Harlem on my Mind,” the
1968 exhibition showcased at the Metropolitan
Museum of Art, as a hypocritical and wrongful
display of “Black art.” While the show was centered
around the African-American community, it
showcased zero Black artists. This, alongside
the emerging Civil Rights Movement, became
an impetus for rethinking who decides which
stories get told and in what way. In a sense, a lot of
the reactionary exhibitions that came thereafter
sought to take viewers out of their comfort zones
and to challenge the previous conventionality of
the art.
This is exemplified in another exhibition the film
calls attention to: “Black Male: Representations
of Masculinity in Contemporary American Art”
at the Whitney Museum of New York in 1994,
which was curated by Thelma Golden, another
important figure throughout the documentary.
“‘Black Male,’” in the words of Kehinde Wiley, the
artist behind former President Barack Obama’s
portrait, “looked at the body as a sign of strength.
It looked at masculinity as a sign of performance. It
looked at femininity as an invention.”
This exhibition reshaped the meaning of
Blackness and maleness in visual culture. In the
documentary, images of the exhibit and cutouts of
media critiques are shown, allowing the spectator
to see how something so controversial had
become liberating and illuminating for many but
bewildering and perturbing to others. It’s amusing
to read that what the press had to say echoed the
exhibition’s original intention: a sort of artistic
rebellion.
Black art has been there since the foundation
of this nation: As Theaster Gates, the artist
who concludes the film, said, “We are part of a
continued renaissance — it’s been happening.”
But now it’s time to make Black art part of the
mainstream and the public eye. To become “great
makers in the absence of light.”
After dissecting and deconstructing “Black Art:
In the Absence of Light,” I appreciate the value of
the whole and the importance of every featured
voice — many of which I was unfamiliar with and
others for whom my interest grew stronger. It is
comforting to see Black art flourish and get its
rightful recognition.
However, the documentary could be more
succinct. In and of itself, it is a sort of exhibition.
It deals with the impact that two generations of
artists had on today’s artists and it acts as a general
summary of what an arbitrary selection of Black
artists have accomplished since. It is an analysis
of various themes within a culture too frequently
considered monolithic.
Fans of HBO’s “Euphoria” may
already be well-acquainted with the
meditative rhythms of rising indie
artist Ai Bendr — her debut single
“Love Me Low” appeared in the most
recent episode of the hit television
show in January. The song now has
over one million plays on Spotify and
thousands on YouTube.
For those who don’t yet know
about Bendr, though, the introductory
period happens quite quickly: Her
soothing music bounces in between
the walls like the warm hug we’ve all
so desperately needed since this time
last year. Give it a minute — maybe
two — and you’re left with the oddly
comforting sense that this woman
must know you personally, for how
else could a few notes be so exactly
what you needed to hear?
Despite the intimacy of her sound,
Bendr remains relatively unknown
as an artist — but her story is actually
quite interwoven with Michigan.
Originally born in Australia, Bendr
moved to Ann Arbor as a toddler,
where she spent most of her childhood.
She then went to boarding school in
Massachusetts before returning to
Lady Ann last fall when she started
as a freshman in the School of Music,
Theatre & Dance.
Bendr studies performing arts
technology or, in her words, “basically
music production.” This semester,
she’s taking advantage of online
classes by living in Los Angeles,
meeting with producers and putting
the content of her coursework to
practical use. More recently, she
signed with Interscope Records — her
first-ever record label — and now has a
year of exciting new releases planned
under their management.
But most of the story behind “Love
Me Low,” the track featured in HBO’s
glittered show, starts long before the
glamour of these dreams became a
reality.
“I was peeing when I came up with
the tune,” Bendr told The Daily from
her room in Los Angeles. She laughed
at the memory, which perhaps feels
quite distant after a year of such
turbulence. She wrote the song last
February, in the last weeks that she
would spend at her boarding school
before COVID-19 prematurely ended
her senior year. At the time, she was in
a relationship and thoroughly in love.
“I was thinking about graduation
and having to say goodbye to this
person that I really loved,” Bendr said.
“I was sad because I was happy, and
I knew that in the future I would be
sad.”
In this sense, Bendr says, “Love
Me Low” is essentially just a goodbye
song.
“It’s really a combination of this sad
feeling because you’re letting go of this
person that makes you so happy,” she
said. “But you’re also just grateful that
you were able to have them in the first
place.”
The song tells the story of a
heartbreak that you see coming but do
not try to stop: a feeling of melancholic
happiness, of holding on to each
moment because you know that soon,
one of them will be the last.
Bendr took this inspiration with
her back home to Michigan and
eventually recorded the single in her
parents’ boiler room. “It was the best
place for acoustics,” Bendr said. She
lined the walls with couch cushions to
avoid echo — now one million people
on Spotify have heard the end result.
Since then, a lot has changed. Press
attention grew, and record labels came
knocking. Bendr started making plans
to move to Los Angeles in January,
and more projects started falling into
place. Then, one day last fall, she was
sitting at her desk doing schoolwork
when her phone buzzed with a
notification from her producers.
“They were like, ‘Hey can you give
us a second, could you FaceTime us,
because “Love Me Low” is going
to be in “Euphoria,”’ ” Bendr said.
She smiled at the memory of it all
happening so quickly and simply.
“I just kind of spammed them, I
was like ‘wtf wtf — you can’t just say
that.’ ”
But it turned out to be just that
simple: An agent who had appeared
in Bendr’s Twitter direct messages
a few months prior had been the
one to facilitate the deal. A few
weeks later, Bendr’s song echoed in
the background of Jules’s (Hunter
Schafer) bedroom toward the end of
the second “Euphoria” special episode
which was released on Jan. 22.
The
song’s
placement
feels
especially fitting for Bendr; she still
remembers watching the first season
of “Euphoria” with the person who
eventually inspired the “Love Me
Low” tune.
“It is so full circle,” she said. And
from here she hopes that that circle
will only grow.
Ann Arbor’s own Ai Bendr is
featured on ‘Euphoria’
Marcelo Castillo discusses the
‘undocupoet’ experience at Helen
Zell Visiting Writers Series
Pollard shines a light on Black Art in HBO’s Black Art: In the Absence of Light’
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
ZOE PHILLIPS
Managing Arts Editor
HADLEY SAMARCO
Daily Arts Writer
CECILIA DURAN
For The Daily
puzzle by sudokusnydictation.com
By Bryant White
©2021 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
02/24/21
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
02/24/21
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Wednesday, February 24, 2021
ACROSS
1 It may break and
crash
5 It has an eye
on TV
8 Slightly open
12 Sea that’s a
victim of irrigation
projects
13 Water park
feature
15 Heavyweight
fight?
16 Capital founded
by Pizarro
17 They may draft
briefs
18 Saloon door’s
lack
19 Civil War topper
20 Tattoo joint?
21 Folklore monster
22 Move furtively
24 “Breaking Bad”
org.
25 Verne who
created Nemo
26 Dodger rival of
shortstop Rizzuto
28 Bucket of bolts
30 “Evita” narrator
32 Gummy bear
ingredient
34 YouTube clip, for
short
37 Prefix with call
39 Meek
40 Tubes on the
table
41 Sonicare rival
43 Get into a stew?
44 One who digs
hard rock
45 Wedding
reception hiree
47 Pressing
49 Catch a bug, say
50 Energy unit
51 Loitering ... or
how 3-, 5-, 7- and
9-Down might be
seen?
58 Magic prop
59 Tech company
that became a
verb
60 Source
62 Harper’s Bazaar
designer
63 Absurd
64 Swear to be true
65 Tap serving
66 California’s Point
__ National
Seashore
67 Cook Islands
export
DOWN
1 Constitutional
events
2 Disney mermaid
3 Blood-drinking
mammal
4 “Seinfeld”
regular
5 High light
6 Delta of
“Designing
Women”
7 Spelunking sight
8 Try to date
9 Support for
Tarzan
10 Love, to Luigi
11 Judicial attire
13 One working on
bks.
14 Linguistic suffix
23 It may be tapped
25 Fifth of 12,
alphabetically:
Abbr.
27 Place for
shooting stars?
29 Free (of)
30 Shoe that’s full of
holes
31 Dance that may
involve a chair
33 Reddit Q&A
session
35 Cal.-to-Fla.
highway
36 Gossip
38 Poisonous
flowering shrub
40 Terraced
structure
of ancient
Mesopotamia
42 Naval lockup
44 Surrealist Joan
46 Magical potion
48 Persian king
51 “__ Trigger”:
Bugs Bunny
cartoon
52 Stud fee,
maybe
53 Hawaiian
goose
54 Anatomy book
author Henry
55 Five-star
56 Smoked salmon
57 Cuckoo clock
feature
58 Baseball glove
part
61 Vegas snake
eyes
SUDOKU
WHISPER
“Goat cheese
is lowkey
controversial
but I dont care
”
“Nothing he
does is
extraordinary.”
02/18/21
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
13 Martin who wrote
21 Winfrey of HBO’s
31 1980s-’90s game
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
Read more at MichiganDaily.com