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| Illustration: Eva Scialom |
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Monday, April 17, 2017
Monday, December 26, 2016
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Monday, November 14, 2016
A Balm in Gilead
The day after the election of "he who shall not be named" a group of 7th graders bounded into my classroom excitedly asking, "What did you think of the election Ms. Cardwell? Are you moving to Canada?" Forgetting my audience, I replied "we survived slavery; we will survive this."
It was a hard week; despite the fact that many of my students were vocal Clinton supporters, I did not feel like discussing politics. The first day I taught the Langston Hughes poem "Let America be America Again" and compared his vision of America's mythological past to the President elect's. The second day we read "The Lottery" and discussed the electoral college in the context of examining the danger of tradition. I can admit that much of what I was trying to communicate went over their heads. After all, many of them have nothing real at stake in the election. Aside from being rich and (mostly) white, they are thirteen.
On Sunday, thanks to a birthday gift from Tahira and Jim, Chloe and I were lucky enough to attend Kathleen Battle's performance of Underground Railroad: a Spiritual Journey at The Metropolitan Opera. The experience was cathartic and much needed. Seeing a black woman on stage kicking aside her floor length burgundy gown with a diamond encrusted heel while singing "Wade in the Water" gave me strength!
And I don't even have words for when Cicely Tyson came out to read Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman" in a silver wig and a blue organza gown!
Black people certainly showed up and showed out for Kathleen Battle, making up significantly more than half of the audience. There were bald heads, head wraps, and full head weaves; Kinte cloth hoop skirts, tuxedos, and lots of fur! One person sitting next to me lamented about people coming to The Met wearing "dungarees" knowing damn well they are called jeans. The shade was real. Hilarious!
Equally (and deliciously) shady was the diva herself. She steeped onto stage over 30 minutes late showing cleavage AND bare back. Tossing her golden shawl to and fro she immediately began directing the choir, even though there were two choir directors. Returning to The Met after being fired in the 90's for "unprofessional actions," Ms. Battle made it clear before the show even started that it was her stage and her show- and that she planned to run it as she saw fit.
At various times in the performance, Ms. Battle glared at a choir member and pointed at her throat, directed one of her two piano players to quiet down, and even gestured to the audience. Toward the end of the show people began to clap along to one of the more fast paced gospel songs, and she SHUT THAT RIGHT DOWN! Pointing to her ears with both hands she instructed the audience to listen and reminded us that this was The Met and not church! Minutes later she had the entire audience stand for "Lift Every Voice and Sing" and held up the lyrics in the program letting us know that now was our time to be a part of her show! The entire audience of the Met standing for the Negro National Anthem was a powerful feeling.
The music itself was wonderful and I'm sure that I embarrassed Chloe rocking back and forth and singing along, which is quite unlike me. When Ms. Battle sang "I've Been 'Buked and I've Been Scorned" she voiced the collective sadness everyone in the audience. Her voice was a more airy and delicate soprano than I expected, and she often puffed on what looked like a sparkly inhaler. In the second half of the performance Ms. Battle left most of the vocal heavy lifting to members of the magnificent choir. However, as if to dispel any talk of fading glory, Ms. Battle sang multiple encores with just a harp and piano.
All and all it was a 3.5 hour show; it reminded me that the purpose of spirituals was resistance-both physical and emotional. The only two words Ms. Battle spoke were "For Tamir Rice" before she sang "Mary had a Baby." We survived slavery; we will survive this.
Check out more pictures from The Met at my new favorite website LAST NIGHT AT the MET
It was a hard week; despite the fact that many of my students were vocal Clinton supporters, I did not feel like discussing politics. The first day I taught the Langston Hughes poem "Let America be America Again" and compared his vision of America's mythological past to the President elect's. The second day we read "The Lottery" and discussed the electoral college in the context of examining the danger of tradition. I can admit that much of what I was trying to communicate went over their heads. After all, many of them have nothing real at stake in the election. Aside from being rich and (mostly) white, they are thirteen.
On Sunday, thanks to a birthday gift from Tahira and Jim, Chloe and I were lucky enough to attend Kathleen Battle's performance of Underground Railroad: a Spiritual Journey at The Metropolitan Opera. The experience was cathartic and much needed. Seeing a black woman on stage kicking aside her floor length burgundy gown with a diamond encrusted heel while singing "Wade in the Water" gave me strength!
And I don't even have words for when Cicely Tyson came out to read Sojourner Truth's "Ain't I a Woman" in a silver wig and a blue organza gown!
Black people certainly showed up and showed out for Kathleen Battle, making up significantly more than half of the audience. There were bald heads, head wraps, and full head weaves; Kinte cloth hoop skirts, tuxedos, and lots of fur! One person sitting next to me lamented about people coming to The Met wearing "dungarees" knowing damn well they are called jeans. The shade was real. Hilarious!
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| Chloe got lots of compliments on her crewcuts dress! |
Equally (and deliciously) shady was the diva herself. She steeped onto stage over 30 minutes late showing cleavage AND bare back. Tossing her golden shawl to and fro she immediately began directing the choir, even though there were two choir directors. Returning to The Met after being fired in the 90's for "unprofessional actions," Ms. Battle made it clear before the show even started that it was her stage and her show- and that she planned to run it as she saw fit.
At various times in the performance, Ms. Battle glared at a choir member and pointed at her throat, directed one of her two piano players to quiet down, and even gestured to the audience. Toward the end of the show people began to clap along to one of the more fast paced gospel songs, and she SHUT THAT RIGHT DOWN! Pointing to her ears with both hands she instructed the audience to listen and reminded us that this was The Met and not church! Minutes later she had the entire audience stand for "Lift Every Voice and Sing" and held up the lyrics in the program letting us know that now was our time to be a part of her show! The entire audience of the Met standing for the Negro National Anthem was a powerful feeling.
The music itself was wonderful and I'm sure that I embarrassed Chloe rocking back and forth and singing along, which is quite unlike me. When Ms. Battle sang "I've Been 'Buked and I've Been Scorned" she voiced the collective sadness everyone in the audience. Her voice was a more airy and delicate soprano than I expected, and she often puffed on what looked like a sparkly inhaler. In the second half of the performance Ms. Battle left most of the vocal heavy lifting to members of the magnificent choir. However, as if to dispel any talk of fading glory, Ms. Battle sang multiple encores with just a harp and piano.
All and all it was a 3.5 hour show; it reminded me that the purpose of spirituals was resistance-both physical and emotional. The only two words Ms. Battle spoke were "For Tamir Rice" before she sang "Mary had a Baby." We survived slavery; we will survive this.
Check out more pictures from The Met at my new favorite website LAST NIGHT AT the MET
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