Mary Perry Smith, Co-Founder of the BFHFI, Passes

It is with great sadness that we announce the death of Mary Perry Smith. In addition to her roles as an educator, a philanthropist, and a promoter of black cultural heritage, Mary Perry Smith was a co-founder of Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame, Inc. (BFHFI).

For over thirty years Smith played many roles within the BFHFI, as well, including serving as the first chairperson of the advisory board, coordinator and chair of the Educational Programs Committee, and board president from 1984 through the mid-1990s. Much of the organization’s archives, including records documenting its early history as a project of the Oakland Museum’s Cultural and Ethnics Affairs Guild in 1974, fell under Mary’s vigilant care.

Cultural and Ethnic Affairs Committee chairpersons Mary Perry Smith, Margot Hicks and Donald Therence with Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame inductee, Sammy Davis, Jr., 1974

Cultural and Ethnic Affairs Guild chairpersons Mary Perry Smith, Margot Hicks and Donald Therence with Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame inductee, Sammy Davis, Jr., 1974

The annual highlight of the BFHFI from 1974—1993 was its Black History Month Celebration, which included the star-studded Oscar Micheaux Awards Ceremony and a celebrity dinner and dance gala. Inductees and awardees included filmmakers and artists such as Paul Robeson, Stepin Fetchit, Gordon Parks, Sammy Davis, Jr., Diahann Carol, Dizzy Gillespie, Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte, Julie Dash, Spike Lee, Brock Peters, Maya Angelou, Tempest Bledsoe, Jim Brown, Madame Sul-Te-Wan, Richard Pryor, and many, many others. The celebration also included a film and lecture series, film symposium, and film competition co-hosted and co-sponsored by UC Berkeley, the Oakland Museum, and the BFHFI.

A large-scale volunteer effort, the Hall of Fame soon outgrew the resources and energy of the staff at the Oakland Museum and so it became an incorporated non-profit organization in 1978. In addition to its annual Black History Month Celebration, the BFHFI also sponsored and hosted master classes, workshops, film screenings, and other educational events throughout the year. Smith was heavily involved in the planning and oversight of many of these events. 1990 marked the start of Black Filmworks, a film festival designed to showcase landmark films and winning submissions to the annual film competition.

Mary Perry Smith with special directorial award presented posthumously to Oscar Micheaux by the Directors Guild of America, 1986

Mary Perry Smith with special directorial award presented posthumously to Oscar Micheaux by the Directors Guild of America, 1986

Besides administrative records and souvenir items, the BFHFI archives include highlights such as a dress and boots worn by Ruby Dee in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, a pair of Harold Nicholas’s tap shoes, signed celebrity hand prints created under the supervision of Casper Banjo, two Oscar Micheaux novels signed by the author, an oil painting of Madame Sul-Te-Wan from the collection of early film aficionado Manny Weltman, and the papers, photographs, and audio recordings of jazz composer and arranger Phil Moore. The BFHFI’s long sought after goal was to establish a brick and mortar museum to house and exhibit items such as these. The archives also contain over 1000 video recordings that include footage of BFHFI events and nearly 20 years’ worth of submissions to the annual film competition.

Smith donated the BFHFI archives to the BFC/A in February 2014 (see previous story). Since then our staff has worked diligently to process approximately 300 boxes full of material. The media recordings are slated to undergo digital preservation as part of Indiana University’s Media Preservation and Digitization Initiative starting this fall through fall 2018. Several items will also be displayed as part of an exhibit hosted at the Grunwald Gallery located on the IU Bloomington campus from October 23rd through November 18th as a means of increasing awareness of the collection throughout and beyond the IU community.

Smith has left behind a breathtaking legacy. Her tireless efforts greatly influenced the shape and direction of the BFHFI and garnered recognition and support of black filmmakers and artists for over thirty years. Her careful stewardship of the collection has ensured that this and future generations will have access to this invaluable record of black filmmaking in the last quarter of the 20th century.

Details on a celebration of her life are forthcoming.

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Wealth Comes in Many Forms: William Greaves’ USIA Films

BFC/A:

Great post from NARA’s Criss Kovac on the USIA films of William Greaves, including 1964’s WEALTH OF A NATION streaming in full.

Originally posted on The Unwritten Record:

This post was written by Criss Kovac. Criss is the supervisor of the National Archives Motion Picture Preservation Lab. 

I’m fortunate that my job allows me to make a difference every day. Most days it’s because I’ve preserved a piece of history, made something accessible for research, or contributed to the archival community. It’s rare, however, that I see how my work has made a difference in the life of a single person. This past spring I had that chance along with the opportunity to bring attention to two great films and the life of their multifaceted and talented director. A simple request from the Film Society of Lincoln Center for a 16mm theater print of William Greaves’Wealth of a Nation(1964) began it all.

NARA gets requests for theater prints on a regular basis, so I didn’t give much thought to it until, a couple of weeks…

View original 655 more words


A Sense of Ourselves: Filming Black Authors and the Burnham Ware Collection

In the field of moving image archiving, lost films are not uncommon. This issue is especially pervasive in Black cinematographic culture due to the difficulties in accessing cameras, films, and archives to preserve the work created by filmmakers. These films, created by and about Black people of color, represent the history experienced through the eyes of those with first hand knowledge and interaction with it. As the famed Roots author Alex Haley wrote, “Because for a long period of time it was against the law to teach slaves to read and write, much of black American history had to be documented by people other than blacks. As a result, much of our history has either been lost or severely distorted,” (Kern-Foxworth, 1994). All lost films are a detriment to the knowledge of the history of those who have come before us, but without organizations like the Black Film Center/Archive, the amount of absent information specifically related to Black films and filmmakers would be insurmountable.

The Burnham Ware Collection, 1980-1989 is one collection that escaped this unfortunate fate. Donated by the filmmaker Burnham Ware in 1993, the twelve, unique Super 8 films feature four prominent Black writers: Gloria Naylor, Houston A. Baker, Terry McMillan, and Alex Haley. In a history wrought with stereotypes and misrepresentation, this Collection gives great insight into African-American literature from the 1980s.

Alex Haley

Alex Haley at Georgetown College in Kentucky, October 1982.

Film was embedded into Mr. Burnham Ware’s (b. 1949) life at an early age. He and his father would watch movies together each week and his mother, a domestic worker, was able to secure him a photographic camera from her employer. His avid interest in Blues music coupled with photography led him to music festivals in the late 1960s. It was there in Ann Arbor, MI where Ware met up with the creators and staff of Living Blues Magazine, who agreed to pay him to write and take photographs for the magazine. As many can empathize, financial constraints led Ware to a more stable professional opportunity working for the Kentucky State Government in Libraries and Archives Department, as what he describes as a “laborer” for the next twenty-seven years.

Ware appreciated this feeling of constancy, but did not allow his new position to shrink his pursuit of filmmaking. He frequently made time to film different kinds of events around the state, from lectures at local colleges and universities, to a KKK rally and protest. Though he did not have any official credentials, Ware would typically head to a lecture and set up near the stage, filming the event with his newly purchased (and expensive!) Super 8 camera. He remembers Terry McMillan’s lecture at Kentucky State University fondly: she was “a funky lady, not your typical academic type,” brought on campus one afternoon by the English department to speak to students. Silent film and still photographs were taken of her, just as they were of Alex Haley at his speaking engagement at Georgetown College (KY) in early October of 1982. Ware set up his equipment like he typically did, and shot four reels of Haley before receiving a wave and smile from the author upon his departure. The Haley reels (see clips) were color with no sound, and were especially exciting for Ware because of Alex Haley’s fame due to his work on Autobiography of Malcolm X (1965) and Roots (1976).

Viewing the works of Mr. Burnham Ware allows us to reclaim a sense of ourselves in what can be a sea of negativity. In the age of a flourishing social media presence, one would think it would be simple for people of color to create and re-create our own history but, though it might be a new age, problems of racism, dehumanization, and scare tactics still exist. This fact highlights the importance of archiving and preserving films like those in the Burnham Ware Collection. Ware’s contributions equal those of other amateur Black filmmakers interested in documenting the less public parts of our society.

Mr. Ware continued to film and take photographs of small, but no less important, events in Kentucky until about 1998. His decision to not film any longer came with the grief of losing his father, a person that was fundamental in his relationship with film and the moving image. Despite that, however, he still feels the phantom effects of the camera in his life, and is always taking “pictures in [his] head” everywhere he goes. This small action gives us hope that other young women and men will take up the camera, in any and all of the ways it is formatted, and continue to write and preserve our history, black or otherwise.

The Burnham Ware Collection is available at the Black Film Center/Archive. The Alex Haley reels have been converted into a digital format and are available for viewing below. If you have more information on Mr. Ware’s Collection, please contact Brian Graney, Senior Archivist and Head of Public and Technology Services at the BFC/A, bpgraney@indiana.edu. An enormous thank you to Mr. Burnham Ware, Betsy Morelock (Kentucky State University), Brian Graney, Rachael Stoeltje (IU Libraries Moving Image Archive), and Andy Uhrich (IULMIA) for their help was integral to the creation, continuation, and completion of this project.

Haley_play

~Amanda Ferrara

Amanda Ferrara is a Massachusetts native with a BA from Smith College (MA) and a MLS from Indiana University (IN). She is interested in increasing diversity of, and outreach to, people of color in academic and government archives. This is her first project integrating these topics with film and the moving image.

NOTES

Kern-Foxworth, M. (1994). Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben, and Rastus: Blacks in advertising, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Westport, Conn: Greenwood Press.

Kerr, L. M. (2013). Collectors’ Contributions to Archiving Early Black Films. Black Camera: An International Film Journal (The New Series), (1), 274.

 

 


New Black Camera Call for Submissions: SELMA Close-Up

Black Camera has announced a new call for submissions for a Close-Up section on Ava DuVernay’s film, SELMA:

Close-Up: Selma: The Historical Record and the American Imaginary

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The 2015 release of the Oscar-nominated film Selma, directed by Ava DuVernay, offers the opportunity to revisit not only the significance of the historical figures and events depicted on screen, but also the cultural impact of cinema and its capacity to both reflect upon and critique historical activity. Indeed, Selma and the considerable press it has received become an index to gauge both the legacy of the civil rights movement and the status of race relations in the fraught contemporary moment.

As with many works in the historical film genre, Selma has won acclaim and generated controversy in equal measure. The film has been applauded for its powerful historical reenactments, characterizations of Martin Luther King Jr., Coretta Scott King, and other protagonists of the period, and its depiction of the protest movement spawned by the violence and injustice of Jim Crow. Conversely, Selma has been criticized for its alleged historical misrepresentations, particularly the depictions of Lyndon Baines Johnson and of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee.

Submissions may interrogate issues of race, class, and/or gender, through thematic, historical, and sociocultural contexts. Other topics might include but are not limited to narrative strategies, genre studies, psychoanalytic/feminist readings, sexuality, black female bodies, masculinity, whiteness, violence, the revenge motif, fugitivity narratives, revisionist historiography, the black vernacular aesthetic tradition and signifying, classic Hollywood filmic stereotypes, the audio/visual landscape of the film, musical scoring, reception, exhibition, marketing/publicity, and distribution.

We welcome submissions exploring Selma from a variety of disciplinary and analytical perspectives for publication consideration. Essays, film reviews, and commentaries will be considered. Essays should be 4,000–6,000 words, commentaries 1,000–2,000, and film reviews 500–1,500 words.

Suggested topics include Selma’s production, exhibition, and reception histories, as well as formal and conceptual analyses of the film as a text. Other suggested lines of inquiry are Selma’s relevance to
• contemporary U.S. race relations
• mediations of posterity, memory, and history
• historical accuracy and “truth” in relation to revisionist history or ideological motivation
• the filmmaker’s intentionality and project of recovery
• interrogation of the notion of the “postracial”
• African American women filmmakers in Hollywood
• the biopic and/or the historical film as genres
• transnationalism

Please submit completed essays, a 150-word abstract, and a 50–100 word biography by January 1, 2016. Submissions should conform to the Chicago Manual of Style, 16th edition. Please see Black Camera‘s journal guidelines for more on the submission policy.

Direct all questions, correspondence, and submissions to co-editor Mark Hain (blackcam@indiana.edu).


Q&A with OUT IN THE NIGHT’s Blair Dorosh-Walther and Giovanna Chesler

A year after its momentous world premiere at LA Film Festival, Blair Dorosh-Walther’s courageous documentary OUT IN THE NIGHT will kick off the new season of PBS’s landmark independent documentary series POV on June 22, 2015.  OUT IN THE NIGHT follows four young African American lesbians who maintain their innocence following a homophobic attack in front of the IFC Theatres in Greenwich Village.  The documentary explores intersecting issues of race, gender, and sexuality in relationship to mass media and the criminal justice system.

outinthenight

In September 2014 the BFC/A’s programming assistant Nzingha Kendall interviewed director Blair Dorosh-Walther and producer Giovanna Chesler.  Below, highlights from the interview.

Nzingha Kendall: In another interview you underscored the point that OUT IN THE NIGHT is not about race or sexuality, pointing out that “Life is about the intersections of race, sexuality, gender identity, and class.”  This clarifying statement you made is really important because people tend to isolate these, as though our experiences can be distilled to one identifying category.  I’d like to unpack this issue a bit more with a couple of questions.

Now, since this interview is for the Black Film Center/Archive, I feel compelled to ask a question related to race.  What kind of challenges did you have as a white filmmaker portraying a story centered on black people?  Did this come into play in terms of building a relationship with the film’s subjects?  If so, how?  Also, did your own non-conforming gender identity — or any other identifications you claim — impact the process?

Blair Dorosh-Walther: Being a white director was something I was very conscious of from the beginning. I frequently questioned whether or not I should be telling this story, so allow me to tell you why it came about that I made this film. I became involved in the case of the NJ7/NJ4 within the days following the fight. In New York City, the media attention was immediate. There was an online dialogue happening and a community meeting at the LGBT Center in the West Village to discuss the media’s coverage. As a group, we also talked about what you do if you feel threatened but don’t feel safe calling the police and how you can protect yourself. In my immediate reaction to the case of the NJ7/NJ4 I felt outraged and knew that had this happened to me, or a group of white friends, we could have defended ourselves and the outcome would have been incredibly different.

In the following two years, as I continued working as an activist around the case on and off, some folks had talked about making a film about the case, it hadn’t happened. However, at the time I did not want to tell this story. I don’t believe that it is necessarily okay for white directors to tell African American stories. There is a long history of white filmmakers doing this and telling very one-dimensional, often inaccurate stories. I obviously do not think it is always entirely wrong either. But in this case, for me, it came down to talking about this with the women, to talk about my own race, why I wanted to tell this story. We began a process of sort of interviewing each other. I wasn’t interested in telling this story if they didn’t feel completely comfortable with me. At the end of the day, after we built a relationship together, as well as their families, I felt I could do the story justice and represent the women honestly and intimately. This was in 2008 as their appeals were approaching, when much of the media attention had died down. It was then that I realized I was still so outraged and passionate about this story. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Once I decided that I was going to do this documentary, I felt that it was incredibly important to have a strong African American crew in decision-making roles. I started speaking with Daniel Patterson soon after our first shoot. We met as students at NYU and had worked a number of other projects together. Daniel has been the eye of the project for 7 years. The women interviewed him to become comfortable with him and he works incredibly well with the women. Yoruba Richen, one of the producers, has been on the project for the last five years. She was important because she is an African American lesbian and filmmaker. Her role focused primarily on story over the years.

That is how it began. We got to know each other and we talked about me being a white director and kind of kept checking in with each other throughout the process. For me, the greatest challenges came up around our personal class differences. For example, Renata and I have a very close friendship and similar philosophical ideas on our gender identities, and are the same age. But no matter how close we are, there was a striking division between me having an apartment and Renata living in a homeless shelter with her family.

So to directly answer your question, I would not have told this story had the women and their family members not been completely comfortable and trusting of me. I never stopped ‘checking’ and questioning myself during the process, but I did and do feel strongly that I could tell this particular story, this story with Renata, Terrain, Patreese and Venice personally and justly.

NK: Another really important theme in the film for me is the criminalization and imprisonment of black people in the U.S.  This really hit home in the recounting of the judge’s statement that Renata “testified falsely,” which compelled one of the lawyers to interject, “Judge, she never testified.”  Can you comment on this?

BD-W: Yes! It sounds so outlandish and implausible that a judge could not tell defendants in a case apart, and claim that Renata testified – which she didn’t. Renata is the only one of the women with dreads and had been sitting in front of the judge in his courtroom for six days of trial and at least three days of hearings. We often talk about the disparity of justice for African Americans. Well, this is a crystal clear example of where we can see bias in the courtroom based on a defendant’s race and gender identity. And there are no consequences for this judge. He was not reprimanded for saying this and continued to egregiously sentence her after saying this. By stating that “she testified falsely” when she didn’t even testify, the judge made clear that there is damaging power in a racially biased imagination.

Another example when bias against black defendants became visible in this courtroom was when a potential juror said, in court, that he had become scared of these women because they were a “gang” and took measures to “protect” his family. He wanted to move his family out of town and felt afraid for his safety by being on this jury. The women were charged with gang assault and were not a gang, but the biased fear in the courtroom was palpable. In the eyes of this man, and others, they became a gang simply because of their race, age and masculinity. And because of constant outlandish media attention that labeled them a gang.

NK: You’ve spent almost a decade working on this project, which is your first feature.  How did you manage?!

BD-W: I initially knew it was going to be a long, intense process, so I made a conscious decision to move forward when I knew I was ready to completely commit. That being said, I had no idea what really was in store, nor did I ever think it would take me seven years to complete. Financially, it was slow going. A little funding would come in here or there from a film grant, but it was never enough to push forward the way we needed all at once. Sometimes I had a full time job, sometimes I free-lanced, sometimes I worked part-time. For several months, I lived without a home and couch surfed. Whatever it took to continue making progress on the film.

Mentally, telling this story was exhausting for many reasons. It was difficult to raise money for an interview when the person I was going to interview was either in prison or living in a homeless shelter. I’ve worked in social services for much of my life, so to draw a distinct line of being a filmmaker and someone who knew what the women and their families needed, was trying. I say this knowing that the women and their families obviously experienced something much worse, but it is a helpless feeling, leaving a prison after a visit or an interview. I cannot imagine the feeling of leaving a prison when it is your daughter trapped in there.

It was also an artistic challenge to pull together a story of four people, with backstories and family members, which took place over their lifetimes. It required a lot of challenging decisions on what to leave out which took years to figure out in the edit room. It really was the support of ITVS, CPB and Fork Films that allowed the film in all of its parts – the edit, the music, the animation, etc to finally come to a close.

NK: You are a documentary filmmaker yourself, having shot, directed, edited your own films.  Being a producer is a completely different beast — or is it?

Giovanna Chesler: It’s very different to work as a producer. I think of it as an advocate / problem solving position that allows the director to make creative decisions. I’ve produced all of my own films, so I’m familiar with the role but when you produce for someone else, you become braver, I believe, and ask for more than you might for your own film.

Blair is very much the head producer of this film, having pulled together the story and the initial funding, which he did for years before I got involved. But once we decided I should come on board, I worked for a year and a half just on raising the finishing funds. It’s a very unsexy position in filmmaking to sit and write grant after grant after grant. Particularly our ITVS grants – where we got to the third round three times in 18 months – which took weeks and weeks of work to pull together. And driving a Kickstarter campaign, and social media tools. Those become parallel projects to a film. But they connect you to the audience just as much.

NK: How did you get involved as a producer for OUT IN THE NIGHT?

GC: I have been focused on fiction film for the past few years. My last film, BYE BI LOVE, was a return to fiction after the all-consuming process of making PERIOD: THE END OF MENSTRUATION which had taken four years with another two years of touring. I had written two feature fiction scripts that I was starting to develop and was at a queer filmmaker’s workshop called Pride of the Ocean, which Blair and Yoruba were also on, when I saw a rough cut of OUT IN THE NIGHT. It was called THE FIRE THIS TIME then. I was immediately furious and moved. I was also angry that I had not heard of this case and these women and knew that this film needed to be finished well.  I started working with Blair on the story structure, mapping out transitions and pulling out themes, so that we could see a new way through the story. Then I became a producer. That was three years ago.

NK: This is a question from Brian Graney, the BFC/A’s archivist, who wants to know about your decision to conceal the identity of the harasser — especially since his testimony is in the public record and his name was revealed in the press coverage.

BD-W: There were a few reasons why we did not identify this man. I didn’t want people focusing on him, specifically, as the reason they ended up in prison. I felt that if you could put a face to a name, people would focus on him being the issue, when really the entire criminal legal system is the issue, as well as the media and its deplorable coverage of this case. There are countless catcallers on the street & countless harassers that turn violent. This also reiterates that he doesn’t matter. I wanted to take the power he had and wipe it away.

I was in touch with him on and off throughout the years and he told me he didn’t want to go on camera. I can’t stand what he did, but at the end of the day as Karen Thompson, Patreese’s appellate attorney says in her interview, “he’s a victim of male-supremacy too.” Certainly not as much as the women, but he couldn’t back down when his “manhood” was threatened. So he remains anonymous and blurred in our treatment on film.

NK: The film’s New York premiere was at the IFC theater.  Did Renata, Terrain, Venice, and Patreese attend?  There’s a reenactment in the film where you revisit the scene of the crime.  I imagine that the experience must have been overwhelming for them — and for you and the rest of the crew.  What was it like to return to this scene, this time under much happier circumstances?

BD-W: Yes, all four women attended the New York Premiere at the IFC. It was spectacular and powerful. At first we were all extremely nervous that the man who instigated the fight was going to show up. After all he has sued each of the women for what he feels is a “straight-hate crime” in a civil suit. We had extra security there and were as prepared as we could possibly be. The women were all excited, but very nervous. However, he didn’t show and after the screening they had a standing ovation to a sold-out theater. [At that time] It was the only screening all four of them were able to attend together, which made it all that more powerful. In the end, I think it ended up becoming a reclaiming of space. They were able to go back to this place that changed their lives and feel and visualize all this support that they had never seen and share their side of the story with people. After the screening we had a dance party that lasted all night. That is when the movie felt like it was actually done to me.

We did shoot an overnight walk through with Terrain and Renata in front of the IFC. I wouldn’t call it a reenactment, though. My initial idea was to have the women walk through the night of the fight as they remembered it and then have the man involved walk through the way he remembered it. I planned to intercut this with the surveillance video. He obviously decided not to be involved in the project. So with the walk through, I tried to only use what we could prove from the surveillance tape. The rest of what you see – the abstract visuals – are intended to make the audience feel like they are there, or experience what the women might have been experiencing in the heat of a fight. I also wanted to try to depict what Renata might have been going through visually, because she has seizures (a by-product of her PTSD). She had a seizure shortly after the fight happened, and Daniel’s camera movements and created textures reflect some of what Renata felt that night.

NK: OUT IN THE NIGHT is also about families — the ones we’re born into and the ones that we construct ourselves.  Can you talk about how the notion of family emerged in the filmmaking process?  And I’m thinking both in front of and behind the camera…

BD-W: I’m glad you mention this. I so rarely get a question about chosen and biological families. Initially, I did not intend to have the film be about their families. I thought that I was going to analyze the media (yawn) or “prove” their innocence (which is really near impossible for self-defense cases). As we were shooting, it became clear that the film was about the women and their families. Both in terms of their closeness, but also their personal family histories that informed their decisions and reactions that night.

But I think in queer communities at large, there is a definite sense of “chosen families” because it often takes family members time to come around to the idea of you being gay. It’s also about survival to surround yourself with people who have gone through similar ups and downs. Your queer, chosen family is where you “come out” and then have someone you can relate to as a role model or confidant. I think somewhat similarly African-American extended and chosen families operate for the same. In some ways, it is really a necessity to live – to be able to create your own family.

Off-camera, the women have become my family. I speak to at least one of them or their family members every day. They have become such a part of my life not only because we were filming for so long, but also because I was part of their releases, had done some fundraising for their bails, and organized commissary, etc. We have now seen each other through major ups and downs. I was there when Renata regained custody of TJ. Moments like that weren’t about filming – they were about support and love of friends and family.

NK: Last question: what’s next for OUT IN THE NIGHT?

BD-W: OUT IN THE NIGHT is in the midst of our festival run which is going well. All of our upcoming screenings are on our website and folks can also request and arrange screenings through us. (http://www.outinthenight.com/screenings) We are doing several screenings and talks at universities and with community groups in the US.

I’m very excited about our partnership with the United Nations. At the Los Angeles Film Festival OUT IN THE NIGHT was chosen to launch the UN’s Free and Equal Campaign film initiative. This is one of a handful of films that have been selected to screen in 77 countries as part of the Free and Equal efforts to decriminalize homosexuality worldwide. The film will be programmed at UN sites and screen with local organizations that work on the ground to fight homophobia.


BLACK CAMERA Vol. 6, No. 2 Now Available

The latest issue of Black Camera: An International Film Journal is now available in print and online from the Indiana University Press.

Spring2015

The Spring 2015 issue includes two Close-ups: One on John Akomfrah and the Black Audio Film Collective, from guest editors Matthias De Groof and Stéphane Symons, featuring articles by Stoffel Debuysere, Kobena Mercer, Manuela Ribeiro Sanches, Laura U. Marks, Kass Banning, and John Akomfrah; and a second on Sexuality, Eroticism, and Gender in Black Films and New Media, from guest editor L.H. Stallings, featuring articles by Angelique V. Nixon, Kai M. Green, and Marlon Rachquel Moore.

The current issue also features a tribute to William Greaves by Noelle Griffis; an article on John Kitzmiller by Saverio Giovacchini; and an interview with Kevin Willmott by Derrais Carter.

For more information about Black Camera, please visit http://www.indiana.edu/~blackcam.  To subscribe, visit http://purchase.jstor.org/products.php?issn=15363155

 


One People: Experiencing Media as Love Letter in Jamaica

“Media offers the means and material of an imagined community…Motion pictures coming out of Jamaica…convey content as they catalyze an imagined family reunion. ” – Terri Francis

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This week, Shadow and Act revives IU professor Terri Francis’s earlier essay, “Slow Jam, Experiencing Media as Love Letter in Jamaica or What I thought of the ‘One People’ Documentary.”  Francis writes:

On Jamaica’s Independence Day 3 years ago, I joined a global Kingston audience to participate in the country’s golden celebrations at the National Stadium but I began the day reading Dr. Carolyn Cooper’s essay “Who is Jamaica?” in The New York Times. There she argues that the nation’s 50-year old motto “Out of Many, One People” seems progressive but actually “marginalizes the nation’s black majority by asserting that the idealized face of the Jamaican nation is multiracial” (See http://www.nytimes.com/2012/08/06/opinion/who-is-jamaica.html?_r=1; Read an expanded version of the piece here http://carolynjoycooper.wordpress.com/). I re-read a little bit of Dr. Deborah Thomas’s Modern Blackness in which she explains how the motto “brackets” blackness, as suggested by the title of her book’s introduction “Out of Many, One (Black) People” (http://www.dukeupress.edu/Catalog/ViewProduct.php?productid=7797). One motto, many significant critiques.

Not just on Independence, but going back over the week to Emancipation Day on August 1, I reflected on the many meanings of blackness, of freedom, and of independence I passed through as I moved from town to country, neighborhood to neighborhood, household to household during my research visit to Jamaica. I came here to work on my manuscript, “Sounding the Nation: Jamaican Film History, 1900-1972” so I’m asking myself what is cinema? What is cinema in Jamaica?

You can find the full essay at this Shadow & Act link: http://blogs.indiewire.com/shadowandact/slow-jam-experiencing-media-as-love-letter-in-jamaica-or-what-i-thought-of-the-onepeople-documentary-20150602

 

 


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