Carolina Gonzales from the very fine Soundtaste blog posted an interesting story in the context of the California Supreme Court's decision this week to allow gay marriages. Another Secret History, and another example of my theory that if you throw a rock at most any historical social and/or political event in U.S. history and you'll hit a brown person. Carolina's post is too delicious not to post in its entirety:
I have to admit, I only read the headlines in California's Supreme Court gay marriage decision this week.
So I did not notice the revealing tidbit that Gary Dauphin footnoted a couple of days ago: the Supremes' decision was largely based on the 1948 case Perez v. Sharp, which challenged interracial marriage bans way before Loving v. Virgina (1967) and involved a Mexican American woman and a Black man.
The reason the couple was denied a wedding license and the case went
to court was that Andrea Perez was considered "white." Gary posted her
picture. I'm re-posting it here. If she's white, I'm downright Aryan.
Like Mendez v. Westminster, the anti-school desegregation case that predated Brown v. Board of Ed
by almost a decade, Perez v. Sharp was also a key precedent-setter with
Latino plaintiffs that crowbarred the door open to extend fundamental
civil rights to others.
Gary argues that it's no coincidence that this case (I would argue
both cases) took place in the other state I consider home, California.
This supports Roberto Lovato's theory that California is ground zero for Latino-led radical social change in this country.
Yet another instance in which we are erased from the history of
fighting for American civil rights, human rights. Been here all along,
time to make sure others notice.
And while we're on the subject of law and order let's not forget the equally precedent-setting case of Hernandez v. Texas, a 1954 case argued before the Supreme Court by Gus Garcia, which decided that Mexican Americans and other racial groups had equal protection under the 14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Garcia's argument was considered by Chief Justice Earl Warren one of the best ever presented before the court. Of course it's been lost. Oh well.
Apologies not only for the repeat of this image, but it's triple duplication. But the Spurs are down 3-2 in their NBA series with the New Orleans Hornets and face playoff elimination tonight. Lighting the virtual vela helped for Game 3. Let's do a multiple lighting today, gente, for added and much needed luck. Copy, paste, and forward at will. Go Espurs Go.
Pre-John McCain, during those wacky Giuliani/Romney/Tom Tancredo Blame Jose, Sanctuary City days, the anti-immigrant rhetoric of the Republican presidential primary led many of us to believe that the scapegoating of undocumented workers would become a daily talking point of the 2008 campaign. But as even this Wall Stree Journal op-ed by Jason L. Riley reports "the issue seems to have faded, if not disappeared entirely." So far. We'll see.
McCain's recent jettison of once-core beliefs in his quest to be President would be laughable if it wasn't so pathetic and sad. The once strict anti-torture dude now OKs waterboarding. He used to call Jerry Falwell and his ilk agents of intolerance. Homeboy now welcomes their endorsements. The day John McCain advocates building a bigger wall is not far off.
But back to the WSJ op-ed and its "reasoned" tone of how Americans actually don't want to send immigrants back -- at least not those who have properly assimilated. (The big question, of course, is what does one mean by "assimilation." Some say it's Latinos speaking English. I suggest it's Hillary speaking in guacamole metaphors and eating at King Taco, not to mention Spanish language TV dominating the ratings and gringo kids watching Dora the Explorer. Assimilation, wonderfully, is a two-way street.) Equating assimilation with English language proficiency, however, is the particular narrow metric the WSJ piece argues today.
The historical pattern is as follows: The first
generation learns enough English to get by but prefers the mother
tongue. The children of immigrants born here grow up in homes where
they understand the mother tongue to some extent and may speak it, but
they prefer English. When those children become adults, they establish
homes where English is the dominant language.
There's every indication that Latinos are following
this pattern. According to 2005 Census data, just one-third of Latino
immigrants in the country for less than a decade speak English well.
But that proportion climbs to 75% for those here 30 years or more.
There may be more bilingualism today among their children, but there's
no evidence that Spanish is the dominant language in the second
generation. The 2000 Census found that 91% of the children of
immigrants, and 97% of the grandchildren, spoke English well.
Nothing to dispute with these facts and figures. Especially when they explain how my 4th Gen Chicano ass has trouble with future perfect tense conjugation of certain Spanish verbs and always mispronouncing Tenochtitlan. But Riley doesn't stop there. Apparently American culture is under attack and it's not the homies looking for jobs at Home Depot parking lots doing the damage.
If American culture is under assault today, it's not
from immigrants who aren't assimilating but from liberal elites who
reject the concept of assimilation. For multiculturalists, and
particularly those in the academy, assimilation is a dirty word. A
values-neutral belief system is embraced by some to avoid having to
judge one culture as superior or inferior to another. Others reject the
assimilationist paradigm outright on the grounds that the U.S. hasn't
always lived up to its ideals. America slaughtered Indians and enslaved
blacks, goes the argument, and this wicked history means we have no
right to impose a value system on others.
Believe me, I have many issues with white liberal elites (see Ken Burns) but a made up aversion to assimilation is not one of them. In any case, Riley advises his fellow right wingers that their hatred of Mexicans is misplaced:
Social conservatives who want to seal the border
in response to these left-wing elites are directing their wrath at the
wrong people. The problem isn't the immigrants. The problem is the
militant multiculturalists who want to turn America into some loose
federation of ethnic and racial groups. The political right should
continue to push back against bilingual education advocates,
anti-American Chicano Studies professors, Spanish-language ballots,
ethnically gerrymandered voting districts, La Raza's big-government
agenda and all the rest. But these problems weren't created by the
women burping our babies and changing linen at our hotels, or by the
men picking lettuce in Yuma and building homes in Iowa City.
Keep the immigrants. Deport the Columbia faculty.
And, apparently, all will be right in the US of A: docile maids will continue to clean bedrooms, gardeners will keep trimming trees, and the pesky new immigrants won't be be speaking English for at least thirty more years. Much too long to tell Mr. Riley that his jiu jitsu attempt at appearing to critique nativist idiots all the while embodying their condescending attitudes toward brown people won't go unnoticed.
La Bloga has just posted an interesting piece: the opening lines from a series of famous -- and not so famous -- books by Latinos. The usual suspects are, of course, represented -- Sandra Cisneros, John Rechy, Cristina García -- but this opening line from first time novelist Mario Acevedo really stood out.
I don't like what Operation Iraqi Freedom has done to me. I went to the war a soldier; I came back a vampire. -- The Nymphos of Rocky Flats by Mario Acevedo.
The book's synopsis mentions government conspiracies, Roswell, trained assassins, and "an outbreak of nymphomania among female guards at a plutonium processing plant in Colorado." Not your run of the mill Chicano literature with this one. I'm ordering this book as we speak.
L.A.'s very own No Age has a new CD out, 'Nouns,' (Pitchfork rave here), the band's debut album for the storied Subpop record label. Heard the single this weekend on Indie 103.1 in the best way possible -- driving around, listening to the radio, and discovering by chance a new fave rock and roll song. Old school for days. I love my Mp3s and MySpacing new bands but there's something to be said for old fashioned radio radio. And speaking of "old fashioned," I leave you with this YouTube clip from the band's 2007 Weirdo Rippers CD. Talk about a "distortingly beautiful" sound and some old school visual aesthetics: random digital pics of friends, a good hook to edit them to, and voila! A great music video.
Been back in L.A. for a week now. Finally. So now, not only can KenBurns daily blog posts continue with impunity, but I also have time to visit interesting websites recently discovered...
Ryan's Daily Music Post. Not your run-of-the-mill song-of-the-day website, this eclectic music blog straight outta San Antonio reflects the crazy cultural mix of South Texas and its music fans. Esteban Jordan next to Leon Russell next to the Drive By Truckers (yes!) next to Nick Lowe!? But, even more surprisingly, it all makes perfect sense. A clean, well-lighted site with no frills, no blather, just a daily song post that lets the music stand and deliver.
(Notes on) Politics, Theory & Photography. "Images," William Burroughs famously wrote, "that's what I eat." Been mulling for years exactly what Wild Bill truly meant with his wonderfully ambiguous dictum, but I'm guessing whatever it was the Beat writer would be pleased with the "Notes on..." blog's critical mix of pictures and politics. Not so much semiotic photo deconstructions a la Barthes and his black French soldier saluting the flag, but analysis on law, the election, images, and and, yes, the occasional opine on, say, the Miley Cyrus - Vanity Fair - Annie Leibowitz photo controversy, complete with links to Germain Greer essays on the subject.
The Kareem Abdul Jabbar Blog: The Insights of the NBA's All-Time Leading Scorer. OK: For hard core NBA fans looking for intelligent discussions on everything basketball head on over to TrueHoop.com -- there is not a finer site for that kind of insider info -- but for everyone else head on over to Kareem's more expansive blog. Jabbar's musings on history, culture, politics, and, yes, even the hated Lakers, make for thoughtful reads. Check out his recent post on the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City. Kareem was there. And Jabbar's insight on race, the Vietnam War, his personal conflicts felt as a Black athlete contemplating a boycott, and how it all matters in the context of today, Beijing, and the Iraq War is a must-read. He's the consummate scholar/athlete. John Wooden would be proud.
Oh! Industry Smart, fun, and extended posts about Pat Benatar power ballads, Harold and Kumar going to Guantanamo, and the ABC soap General Hospital (alas! no mention of All My Children, but no one's perfect, right?) -- with the occasional Monkees YouTube TV show clip provided as apt audio visual aid. What more could you want in a blog? Run by a trio of savvy academics -- the collectively self-described "Audre Lord of the Rings" -- their entries prove PhDs can not only be fun, but illustrates how the scrutiny of contemporary pop culture can be relevant, political, and revelatory -- in the right multi culti hands. And
a Camper Van Beethovan sample? Be still my fanboy's heart.
6767. Dave Navarro's blog. Admittedly, not officially a favorite site. Yet. In fact, I just became aware of 6767 three days ago. But I mention it because Navarro blogged this week how Girl in a Coma is his favorite new band -- plus homeboy posted my music video for 'Say.' Badass. While on his site I discovered Navarro's side band project: Camp Freddy. A Who's-Who of rock musicians playing entire sets of cover songs. Last week Camp Freddy jammed with Steve Jones for some Sex Pistols covers and opened their set the always witty choice of Cheap Trick's Hello There Ladies and Gentlemen. How cool is that? Camp Freddy's doing a residency at the Roxy all this month. Last week's set also included some Bowie, the aforementioned Pistols, Led Zep, Motorhead, and the Stooges. I'll for sure be there next Thursday. Stay tuned for a review...
And, lastly, in the spirit of the above recommended Oh! Industry blog, I leave you with the brilliant proto riot girl Poly Styrene and her band X Ray Spex (mini doc here) with their punk classic "Oh Bondage, Up Yours!" Very badass. Rock on. Have a good weekend. And don't forget Mother's Day.
NPR ran a great piece the other day on Brian May, the guitar player from the classic rock group Queen. The dude is now an astrophysicist studying the origins of the universe. From writing songs with Freddy Mercury to the Big Bang Theory. Badass. So of course I quickly went to YouTube to find the perfect companion video for illustrative purposes when -- snap! -- I remembered: Queen En Espanol: Tributo a Queen, the 1997 tribute album of Queen songs by various roc en espanol groups. This must-have CD included El General doing We Will Rock You (Nosotros Te Conmoveremos), Fobia doing Under Pressure (Presionando, video here), and my absolute fave cover song of the bunch, Molotov and their sly, transgressive, and delightfully irreverent version of Bohemian Rhapsody...
The Spurs are down 2-0 in their second round NBA Playoff series against the New Orleans Hornets. Game 3 is tonight. What that means, gente, is run, don't walk, down to your neighborhood botanica to buy -- and light -- a good luck candle. Until then, this virtual vela will have to do. Go Spurs Go.
In honor of Hillary Clinton, and because I'm in a musical mood today, I give you these three videos with a certain and obvious theme. First up is 'Separated by Motorways' (2005) from the Sheffield band the Long Blondes; next is the amazing and timeless 'Still in Hollywood' (1986) by Concrete Blonde; and, finally, one of my favorite singles of all time, the French version of 'Sunday Girl' (1978) by Blondie. Disfrutenlos.
It's election day. And Andrew Sullivan notes on a must read post that 1.5 million people have donated money to Obama's campaign. Via the internet. The significance of that, he writes, is astounding. Again, 1.5 million...
That's how many people have now donated to Obama.
No one has ever come close to this in history. And it was done by the
Internet, destroying the power of major donors to control a candidate,
empowering so many to make a difference and altering the face of
campaign finance for ever. And yet the Democrats are seriously
considering rebuking this astonishing achievement in favor of an old
nepotistic pol whose campaign, when it hasn't been incompetent and
complacent, has been straight from the Rove playbook.
Any Democrat who spurns this achievement is destroying their own
party, and its future. This has been a revolutionary campaign already.
Because it has been built as much from below as from above. And because
it has brought so many to believe in their country and its politics
again. I don't care if I am thereby tarred as an Obama kool-aid
drinker. The facts remain, and one day, the MSM will absorb them.
Along with the release of Grand Theft Auto IV last week came the expected condemnations. The game's too violent, degrades women, encourages petty crime, the sexual content too mature for teenagers, debases society etc. etc. The reviews, one the one hand, have not only been raves, but now frequently turn up on the front pages of mainstream publications suggesting the widespread acceptance of video games in contemporary America. The New York Times, for instance, calls Grand Theft Auto "a violent, intelligent, profane, endearing, obnoxious, sly, richly
textured and thoroughly compelling work of cultural satire disguised as
fun. It calls to mind a rollicking R-rated version of Mad magazine
featuring Dave Chappelle and Quentin Tarantino, and sets a new standard for what is possible in interactive arts." Personally, as a visual storyteller, I'm intrigued by the narrative possibilities of these kinds of games. On the other hand you got TV news stories like this one, which happened probably around the same time GTA IV hit the $400 million worldwide sales mark. Was the joyriding little kid driving his grandma's car like a video game? Quien sabes. All I know is I want a PS3 so I can get in on the virtual mayhem myself.
Among the entries that did NOT make it to the final edit of the "Truthful History of the Conquest of Nuevo Aztlan" timeline Ruben Ortiz and I wrote for the Phantom Sightings show was this bit about Cinco de Mayo. I share it with you now:
Cinco de Mayo, 1862 Puebla, Mexico Mexican forces under the command of General Ignacio Zaragoza defeat the French army at the Battle of Puebla. One hundred and forty odd years later, Cinco de Mayo, the one time Mexican regional celebration, becomes Drinko de Mayo, as various beer companies compete for sponsorships of festivals, rock concerts, and the marketing of chugging games. In recent years, alcohol sales on Cinco de Mayo have eclipsed those of that other great American ethnic holiday, St. Patrick’s Day.
And of course, as Joe Baca reports in today's Huffington Post, Cinco de Mayo is NOT, as some gringos believe, Mexican Independence Day. What's remarkable about the posting is not so much the Chicano History 101 aspect of the basic facts, but that the entry is featured in a general information, popular website at all. There among the news that Hillary (not surprisingly) is destroying the Democratic Party in her single-minded quest for power by going for the nuclear option; video depicting exotic and bizzare rites where babies are safely tossed off roofs; and Ariana discussing the primary on CNN, is a featured blog post discussing Mexican history and its impact on contemporary U.S. society. Granted, its a decidely Hispanic Chamber of Commerce interpretation of history, but who knows?, Rudy Acuna could be out there waiting in the wings for participation in the mix.
And finally, in other Cinco de Mayo news, presumptive Republican presidential candidate John McCain has chosen this manufactured holiday to launch his manufactured appeal to Brown people -- with the announcement of John McCain en espanol, his Spanish language website. Featured Hispanic types giving props to McCain include Florida U.S. Rep Ileana Ros-Lehtinen, who once advocated for the assassination of Fidel Castro. (And they're giving Barack Grief for Paster Wright?) A quick click though the site's content and I couldn't find a mention of McCain's flip flop on immigration. You know, how before he was for a comprehensive immigration overhaul and now as he faces a general election, talk about building a fence, so-called border security, and solving the complex issue with "tamper proof, biometric documents."
Tamper proof documents? Apparently homeboy hasn't visited MacArthur Park lately. Those industrious photoshopping vatos advertising their skills out on the sidewalk could even make the Panamanian born McCain a real American.
Very busy this week in San Antonio working on the TV show. The combination of Fiesta Week activities and 10 hour shooting days has left little time for blogging. Hope to catch up on our day off tomorrow. But then again, that is the day of the big Battle of Flowers Day parade. 300,000 Mexicans lining the streets watching a parade of mostly Mexicans marching in bands is truly a sight not to be missed.
Highlight (or lowlight -- haven't decided yet) of the trip so far was being stopped on the street and someone asking me if I was Cesar Milan. The inquiry was serious. Hm. Now, I am a big fan of the Dog Whisperer (in fact I even blogged on the vato here), but a short real Mexican, with an accent, usually leading a pack of dogs while rollerblading my doppelganger? I don't know about that one.
I did have time, however, to check out a new blog that's formed dedicated to discussing the post identity issues raised by the LACMA Phantom Sightings show. Till I can return and regularly pontificate on all things Latino and Pop go check it out here.
Came across this clip of Oscar Zeta Acosta live, reading from his book, The Revolt of the Cockroach People. A rare glimpse of the man, the myth, the legend.
Tim Duncan hits his first three pointer of the season. At the buzzer. Just in time to send the Spurs into a second overtime and an eventual defeat of the Phoenix Suns in Game 1 of the first round of the NBA Playoffs. A game many experts are considering as one of the most exciting playoff games in recent history. The Spurs are boring? Self-serving propaganda perpetuated by Lakers-obsessed pundits. Now I know what it's like to be a Hillary supporter.
In any case, this is as good a time as any to repost my Top Ten Reasons Why Latinos Should Root for the Spurs to Repeat in 2008:
Point guard Tony Parker regularly attends the Alma awards.
Point guard Tony Parker is also known as Mr. Eva Longoria.
Taco Cabana banners hang on the same rafters as the 1999, 2003, 2005, and 2007 Championship banners.
Forward Bruce Bowen is married to a Cubana and speaks fluent Spanish.
Once, on a live post game TV interview, Bowen called Celtics guard Ray
Allen guey and the censors had no idea what he was talking about.
Guard Manu Ginobli and center Fabrico Oberto are from Argentina.
You will never see so many Raza faces at a major sporting event in the United States this side of a Chivas USA soccer game.
Tim Duncan, arguably the best player in basketball the past decade,
is neither power forward nor center. Ni de aqui ni de alla. In
between. The embodiment of the Chicano experience.
The Spurs fans sing Volver during the time outs.
And, most importantly, the NBA title now rests safely back in Aztlan. Let's keep it there.
So I'm in the middle of making some TV reality/doc shows, twelve total, an all-consuming activity which not only results in a admittedly lazy dependence on YouTube blog posts for loyal KenBurnsHatesMexicans readers -- apologies -- but also a serious back up of programs on my TiVo. But one show I never miss is Dancing With the Stars. Not only because the ABC series features the dancing talents of Cheryl Burke (be still my heart), but I'm a sucker for the Pas0 Doble. Imagine the irony, then, of getting offered two free tickets to this Monday's taping of Dancing With the Stars -- and having to turn them down. Like I said, I'm in the middle of production. We'll be flying to San Antonio that day. Oh well...
The upside, of course, is I'm going back home: breakfast tacos 2 for 99 cents; "G-o S-p-u-r-s G-o" spelled out with white styrofoam cups stuck into people's chain link fences (talk about the art of Phantom Sightings); Esteban Jordan live at Salute on Friday nights (the "Jimi Hendrix of the Accordion" -- video proof here); Henry's puffy tacos (over eight million sold); Bill Miller iced tea; the big wide aisles of HEB; plus I can finally figure out why my fellow Tejanos went for Hillary. I mean, what's up with that?
Will be shooting four episodes of the TV show during San Antonio's Fiesta Week. For those non-Texans out there blissfully unaware of the cultural and political dynamics of Fiesta Week -- beyond its apt description of as Mardi Gras, but with Mexicans -- I leave you with this clip from my movie Speeder Kills. And for those of you sadly unaware of the delights of the Paso Doble, I leave you with this clip from last season of Dancing With the Stars, where Mario Lopez introduces America to his Chicano family before dazzling us with his version of the Latin ballroom dance. Have a good weekend.
In my view, no Mexican American performer better embodies the notion of Secret History and/or Phantom Sighting than Alejandro Escovedo. During his long rock and roll career Escovedo was present at the birth of West Coast punk in the late 70s; opened for the Sex Pistol's for the legendary English band's infamous last gig at the Winterland in 1978, hung out with Sid and Nancy in the days before the couple's last days at the Chelsea; invented cowpunk with his NYC band Rank and File; helped form in the mid 80s what we now know at the Austin music scene; all the while creating some of the most heartfelt rock and roll all under the radar of the national media. From a link where you can hear Alejandro as he is best heard: live in front of an audience:
Born into a large Mexican immigrant family in San Antonio, Escovedo was
heavily influenced by his father, who loved music and often sang in
local mariachi bands. His career began with The Nuns, a mid-'70s punk
outfit from San Francisco; later, he co-founded the country-influenced
punk band Rank and File. He began to make a name for himself in True
Believers with his brother Javier, with national tours supporting the
likes of Los Lobos, and his solo career took off with 1992's critically
acclaimed Gravity. Since then, Escovedo has recorded eight
albums under his own name, in the process winning numerous awards and
accolades, including "Artist of the Decade" from No Depression magazine.
One of my favorite cover songs of all time is Escovedo's transcendent take on the Mott the Hoople classic All the Young Dudes. Just a few days ago Alejandro played with Bruce Springsteen at the Boss's Houston concert. Several friends have sent me the link. I share it with you now. And for further Alejandro clips to enjoy go here to see him perform my second favorite cover song of all time, Escovedo's version of Iggy Pop's I Wanna Be Your Dog; and in a Must See clip go here to see a story on the old 80s MTV show The Cutting Edge highlighting one of the biggest and baddest big guitar bands in rock and roll history, The True Believers, which Alejandro fronted with his brother Javier. Chicanos with Guitars. Badass.
Here's a new educational video from Aztlan's best performance artist, Chingo Bling. (Oh, and the MacArthur Foundation?, por favor, check out the Tejano's CV and give the vato a Genius Award already...)
Was away for the past three days in Seattle giving a presentation at the Experience Music Project's Pop Conference, an annual gathering of music critics talking about all things cultural, musical, and pop. Amazing time, in an admitted geeky fan boy kind of way. Best part of the weekend was meeting two of my heroes, Griel Marcus, who's idea of Lipstick Traces led me to apply his theory of Secret Histories oh-so-appropriately to U.S. Latinos, and my main man Greg Tate, who's seminal book of essays on Black culture and music, Flyboy in the Buttermilk, taught me how to be a better post-Chicano. I've been carrying around my tattered paperback of Tate's book for almost fourteen years now freely appropriating vato's still radical ideas on race and culture.
Allow me to quote from a piece I wrote on Latino filmmaking for the San Francisco Bay Guardian many years ago (full article here). The essay not only distills Tate's particular ideas on fusing specific ethnic sensibilities with "white" influences to create something new, but also gives a snapshot of the sad state of Latino filmmaking eight or nine years ago. But even more lamentable? The situation of Raza cinema hasn't improved much since then. Oh well, at least we had Elisa Jimenez from Project Runway last year and, of course, Alex Rivera's upcoming post-border sci-fi epic, Sleep Dealer. Punto!
It is with some irony, then, that I turn to the ideas of the one African American writer who most captures the emerging hybrid sensibility/strategy of a new post-movimiento generation of Latino filmmakers, and future of brown film.
There is a patented, vertiginous moment in a Greg Tate essay ("Cult Nats Meet Freaky-Deke") where the self-described Flyboy in the Buttermilk expounds in his usual dizzying and apt rhetoric on a liberating aesthetic current among certain enlightened Black artists. He talks about those anti-essentialist folks who "feel secure enough about Black culture to claim art produced by nonblacks as part of their inheritance." (Substitute “black” for “brown” in the above quote and it sounds like many contemporary U.S. Latinos.) A 150 plus word litany then ensues where the provocative writer headbumps pairings of seminal influential artist types as evidence of his theory of how seemingly disparate cultural influences actually make cogent sense when incorporated by certain enlightened black artists.
Just a sampling from Señor Tate’s intentionally contradictory two-page list: "...George Clinton and George Romero, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Lisette Model, Zora Neale Hurston and Akira Kurosawa...Jah Rastafari and Johnny Rotten...Anthony Braxton and Bruce Lee...Antonin Artaud and Amira Baraka...Fredric Jameson and Reverend James Cleveland," and on and on and on.
Absent, of course, in Tate's glib Who's Who are any American artists of the Brown variety. Now I mention this not so much to dis brother Tate (OK, maybe just a little -- those who preach post-modern pastiche, after all, should practice it) but more so because the guy's on to something.
“...Malcolm X and Jimi Hendrix...?”
That’s cool. But how about certain Chicano/Latino artists that also easily navigate and reference and knowingly subvert all that pop America -- North and South -- has to offer. Take Luis M. Meza's sublime 1996 ultra low budget feature, Staccato Purr of the Exhaust. In that very cool ultra low budget feature Meza mixes the influences of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Jim Jarmusch, and lo-fi rock and roll into a new American idie film sensibility.
The point being, of course, not to lay down some unproductive one-up-manship in referencology with African American artists -- 'cause Prince Paul or the RZA would totally kick our Latino ass in that kind of sampling mano-a-mano -- no, what matters here is illustrating just another example of the culturally specific, all-encompassing power of mestizaje -- our people's predeliction for hybridity and mixing -- our necessary mastery of two cultures -- the creation of a natural brown aesthetic informing our movies. It's a distinct creative strategy that's worked in the past, and being transformed for the future.
Will be posting more details and observations the next few days on all the things Latino and pop and relevant I encountered at the conference. Not to mention pontifications on Alberto "The Geneva Convention is Quaint" Gonzales' job search (no one wants to hire him); the Spurs loss to the hated Lakers (we'll get 'em in the playoffs); and a response to a way fucked up review by a clueless gringo critic writing on the Phantom Sightings show. Stay tuned...
One of my favorite filmmakers is Spike Lee. Don't remember the details exactly, but within the span of about a year I saw both Jim Jarmusch's Stranger Than Paradise and Lee's She's Gotta Have It -- and knew I wanted, and could, make movies. Both were first films, both were totally indie when indie actually
meant something, both were made for practically no money, and both were real world examples of how limitations of budget could lead to formally inventive, beautiful, and emotionally satisfying cinema. There were now no excuses not to pick up a camera and tell your own stories.
Lee's work, however, affected me on an even more personal, political, and cultural level. She's Gotta Have It was wonderfully unapologetic in its matter-of-fact depiction of a contemporary and realistic black world. What a simple yet radical concept. Actually telling stories about black people using only black people, with no studio mandated need to throw pesky and unnecessary white people in the mix. Lee's story didn't need them. Yet the movie, paradoxically, was accessible to anyone -- black, white, or brown like me sitting in a movie theater in San Antonio, Texas -- because of the truth Lee gave to the culturally specific characters.
Since She's Gotta Have It, Lee's not only gone on to create an interesting body of work adhering to the principles of his first film, but he's also used whatever clout he had within the industry not to just further his career, but to risk that always tenuous position by constantly calling out Hollywood for its racism -- in its financing, casting, marketing, and shameful lack of opportunities it gives for filmmakers of color.
As for himself, Lee did whatever he could to rectify these lack of opportunities for filmmakers of color with his own projects, hiring a diverse, multi-cultural crew. Countless black and brown and women editors, cameramen, and other below the line workers owe their careers to Lee's colorblind hiring. Just last week, working in New York, my Puerto Rican line producer reminded me how she got her start just out of college working for 40 Acres and a Mule, Lee's company. Say what you will about post-Nike, multimillionaire Lee, but he's put his money where his mouth is, nevermind the consequences.
And he was at it again just the other day. As reported at Risky Biz Blog, Lee was awarded "Chrysler's sixth annual Behind the Lens award at the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel ballroom, and after an evening of tributes from actors -- many of
whom, like including Rosie Perez, Savion Glover and Laurence Fishburne,
have Lee to thank for their career -- and stirring performances by
trumpeter Terence Blanchard, Lee gave a thank you speech that quickly
tuned into much more." Badass. Go Spike Go...
Been back in LA for only a few days and already into a second day of production on a TV project I'm working on (more on that later, promise.) Long days of shooting, my feet hurt, not a lot of time for blogging which is very frustrating since I have a lot on my mind....for instance, saw Phantom Sightings this weekend (amazing show) have some thoughts on that; saw lots of Mexicans while in NYC signifying a cultural shift in the making, very badass; Junot Diaz AND Bob Dylan win a Pulitzer Prize, congrats; and my man Steve Guttenburg got kicked off Dancing With the Stars, que lastima! Anyway, things ease up tomorrow so expect some major pontificating in the next couple of days on these and other important matters on all things Latino and pop.
But big news today is my San Antonio buds Girl in a Coma have made iTunes Editors Choice pick. Now, for a week, every time someone in the world opens the iTunes store the page's top banner features the band's debut album on sale for 5.99. Sales should be great, but more importantly, the opportunity will introduce the band to many more listeners. Check it out, download a copy. And actually see for yourself the word "chicana" mentioned in an iTunes description. Mechistas must be dancing in the street. I leave you with this homemade clip of a Girl in a Coma song. As most KenBurns readers know my latest music video for the Girls was "Say" (go here to check it out), in this very cool DIY version, a fan gives her interpretation of the tune. Enjoy.
Forty years ago in San Antonio Hemisfair '68 opened. It was a World's Fair that helped the transformation of the city from small a Texas town to the nation's 9th largest city it is today. Among the lasting benefits of Hemisfair was the expansion of the Riverwalk, the construction of the Tower of the Americas, and the creation of a tourist based economy. Of course, like with all these large civic projects there was bad along with the good. In this case, the destruction of a entire downtown neighborhood to build the fair grounds and the aforementioned tourist based economy. Lots of jobs to be sure in the hospitality industry, but with Texas a non-union state, these are jobs that don't make a lot of money for the maids, waiters, and busboys. The majority of them Mexican American. This week San Antonio hosts college basketball's Final Four. A huge boom to the local economy as fans and national and international press descend on the city that Hemisfair built. Here's a clip from 1988 that was broadcast on the fair's 25th anniversary. And for another clip go here.
Doh! Just discovered I can actually embed clips from my Myspace page to this blog. Badass. Have been wanting to post my first film, Pretty Vacant (16mm, Black and White, 33 1.3 min), in several segments over the course of a few weeks for your viewing pleasure...you know, serial narrative like, a la Charles Dickens, only San Antonio instead of London and Sex Pistol's lyricis instead of "These were the best of times, the worst of times."
Anyway, like I said, this was my first movie, finished in 1996, starring my friend Mariana Vasquez, shot entirely inside Loop 410 San Antonio, Texas, it won some awards, I corresponded with Griel Marcus because of the movie (didn't actually meet him, though), and features songs by Velocity Girl, Esteban Jordan, Freddy Fender, and Cafe Tacuba, among many others. The story's about a girl in a punk band called Aztlan-A-Go-Go, her name is Molly, every summer her family goes back to Mexico to visit the relatives but this time she doesn't want to go because she's convinced she's stumbled across something that will change the very foundation of rock history. Something to do with the Sex Pistol's infamous 1978 gig in San Antonio. It'll all make sense when you watch the movie. Anyway, here's the opening. More clips in the weeks to come.
Ooops. I forgot to mention yesterday another significant event of March 31. So here it is, a day late, and I'll let another one of the entries from our "The Truthful History of the Conquest of Nuevo Aztlan" explain it all:
March 31, 1997 1995 Corpus Christi, Texas Tejana singer Selena is gunned down at a Day's Inn motel. Mainstream media outlets from the BBC to the New York Times try to understand why sixty thousand mourners file past her casket in eleven hours. People magazine publishes a special issue devoted entirely to the life of the fallen singer. This had been done only twice before, after the deaths of Jackie Onassis and Audrey Hepburn. The Selena issue easily outsells them both combined. Soon after, the company launches People en Espanol A market is noticed.
And I'll end, via Perezhilton, with this way cool fan tribute video.
So I did not notice the revealing tidbit that Gary Dauphin footnoted a couple of days ago: the Supremes' decision was largely based on the 1948 case Perez v. Sharp, which challenged interracial marriage bans way before Loving v. Virgina (1967) and involved a Mexican American woman and a Black man.
