Many people are angry at Harry Belafonte. Hilary Clinton, the fine folks at the AARP, every public political figure with a constituency or financier to anger. Belafonte’s candid thoughts on George Bush and his Administration, spoken from a podium in South America flanked by Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez and Fidel Castro, drew calls of treason. The media yelled and berated. Previously bemused references to the “Banana Boat Man” turned ugly. They even snubbed him at the funeral of his friend Coretta Scott King. He had gone too far. He had taken it there. He had to pay. And apparently they believed that this shower of insults and disrespect might in some way deter Harry Belafonte. Or give him pause. It’s a funny thing. They actually thought that a press release or public rebuke sent through the media would have an adverse effect on Harry Belafonte. They forgot Harry Belafonte has a Voice. They forgot Harry Belafonte will use his Voice. They forgot Harry Belafonte.

Harry Belafonte is seared into the American consciousness in ways that many of us may not understand. Born in Harlem in 1927 during the height of the Harlem Renaissance, Belafonte soaked in the atmosphere of creative possibility that surrounded him as a child. After a 5 year stint in his mother’s native Jamaica, Belafonte returned to Harlem at the height of the Depression and… soaked in the atmosphere of despair that surrounded him as a teenager. A high school dropout by the age of 15, Belafonte knocked around before joining the navy and fighting in World War II on behalf of his country as an ammunitions loader.

After returning from the war, young Belafonte took a job as a maintenance worker. After receiving tickets to an off Broadway play as a tip, he attended his first theater production and fell in love. So enthralled was Belafonte that he began volunteering at the American Negro Theater as a stage hand so he could have greater proximity to the art craft. It was here that he discovered that he had a voice. In a short span of time, Belafonte went from acting in company productions to singing and acting in company productions to winning a Tony Award for his work in the 1954 Broadway revue John Murray Anderson’s Almanac. Belafonte’s work on stage was so powerfully convincing that it led to his winning a career-making role opposite Dorothy Dandridge in Carmen Jones, a major label recording contract and recurring engagements at New York City’s The Village Vanguard during the height of the jazz spot’s heyday. But the sun, the moon and the stars really aligned when Belafonte dropped Calypso on RCA Records in 1956, the year an icon was born. “Day-O,” often referred to as the “Banana Boat Song” or something like that, is the song that did it for Belafonte. The breakout hit’s nod to Caribbean culture appealed to the ears and imagination of many Americans who were just discovering the Americas for the first time and this made Belafonte a cultural ambassador of sorts. Belafonte the burgeoning star became Belafonte the supernova.

Calypso spent 31 weeks at number 1 on the Billboard charts and became the first full length album to go platinum. But the hint of Calypso in his music wasn’t the only reason behind Belafonte’s explosion into American life. Belafonte also came equipped with a visual that was downright subversive. This was 1956. This was back when Dwight D Eisenhower was president. Folks of color were seen as marginal figures at best and their tastes and truths were large bodies of water away from the mainstream. Prior to Belafonte’s emergence, only Black women had been allowed to have some allure on the movie screen. Lena Horne, Dorothy Dandridge and Ruby Dee were beautiful and glamorous. Sidney Poitier and Ossie Davis were men of quality and integrity (and talent) but they didn’t make the girls swoon. Belafonte opened up a zeitgeist with his telegenic looks, low-buttoned shirts and spirited stage and movie persona. Suddenly, Black American women had a sex symbol and White American women had a symbol of forbidden pleasure (Check the furor raised by Belafonte’s on screen inter-racial kiss with Joan Fontaine in Island of the Sun). His stage act spawned imitators. Handsome men crooning over Calypso inspired rhythms while giving American audiences a peek into the “exotic” world of life nearer the equator. (One included another scion of Caribbean immigrants named “The Charmer” who would go on to use his voice to piss a few people off as the Minister Louis Farrakhan). It was quite simply the era of Harry Belafonte and after starring in several ground breaking movies (Odds Against Tomorrow, The World, The Flesh and The Devil); performing to a standing only crowd at Carnegie Hall; and becoming the first Black American to produce a network television special (the Emmy winning Tonight with Harry Belafonte); it seemed the love affair would never end.

But 1956 was also the year that the Montgomery, Alabama buses desegregated. It was the year that civil disobedience proved that it could have a real and profound impact on society. It was also the year that Harry Belafonte found that his voice had dimensions. It was the year that he found out that his voice was actually a Voice and had the power to both entertain and bring about social change. There was no looking back after Belafonte made this discovery, from here on out he would use his Voice and his platform, as his hero and mentor Paul Robeson had done before him, for some greater social impact. This was also the discovery that transformed Belafonte from a moment to an eternity. Most of yesterday’s brightest stars mellow into a slow burn as the earth ceases to circulate around them. Some receive the title of icon for a time but even that designation tends to lose significance as new generations impose their dictates on the public consciousness and new variations of old pop culture are formed. You say “Aretha,” they say “who?” You say “Streisand,” they say “who?” You say “Belafonte,” they say “he said what?” “He did what?”

Because Belafonte transitioned from being the world’s biggest entertainer to being part and parcel of many of the greatest social justice struggles of the latter half of the 20 th century. The Civil Rights Movement? Belafonte was one of the primary financiers. But he didn’t just send checks by courier- he went down to the front line and showed his face when other public figures who privately supported the movement balked at actually lending their personage. Fascists buy movie tickets. Fascists buy records. Fascists buy sneakers and hip hop (oops wrong story). Fascists end entertainment careers. So fascists can’t see you hanging out with King or Bayard Rustin or Medgar Evers or A. Phillip Randolph (and don’t even mention Malcolm). Belafonte was unperturbed by this. The movie star caught on camera standing next to King in Birmingham? Belafonte. The matinee idol spotted on film sitting next to King in Selma? Belafonte. The platinum selling recording artist working the phones at King’s HQ in that photograph? Belafonte.

It didn’t end there. The Anti-Apartheid Movement? Belafonte was one of the primary agitators for the dismantling of the South African form of Jim Crow, wearing a trail between the U.S. South African Embassy and the local DC jail. Before Paul Simon made Gracleand, Belafonte was introducing American audiences to Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela, South African artists that brought a message of dissent along with their music. And when it was time to broker the historic negotiation for the peaceful fall of Apartheid who was sitting next to Nelson Mandela? Why, Belafonte of course.

But all of this is just a small measure of the man. His vocal opposition to the Vietnam War and the blatant shadiness of the Nixon Administration; his humanitarian awards; his work with foundations; his constant fight to rectify structured indifference towards suffering and find solutions for the issues afflicting this world are too numerous and varied for easy quantification. He is creating a legacy that can’t fit in a song or on a movie stage. His weight is too heavy to fit on a stage. His Voice to strong to be drowned out by political machinations or poorly veiled threats from the lips of self-serving public figures. Belafonte has always spoken out on the important issues of the day and history has always found him to be on the right side of those debates.

So after a life of dissent and speaking truth to power, we are to believe that in this current political and social climate Harry Belafonte should not use his Voice. That he should be silent. That he should NOT talk about George Bush and Dick Cheney and Colin Powell and Condoleezza Rice and Iraq and Corporate Greed and the continued degradation of the fundamental principles of Social Justice. Ridiculous. He has a tradition to uphold. King is not here to speak. Malcolm is not here to speak. Paul Robeson is not here to speak. Cesar Chavez is not here to speak. Shirley Chisholm is not here to speak. So as long as Harry Belafonte has breath in his body and clarity in his Voice, he is going to say something intelligent, informed and straight to the point. In other words, Harry Belafonte will be Harry Belafonte. A fact not to be forgotten.

Fragile: Contains Peace; Fragile: Contains Wisdom; Fragile: Contains Tolerance

Isn't it sweet when someone with something important and profound to say finds the perfect vehicle to carry his or her message forth? As simple as it may sound, the actual occurrence of this kind of confluence is, sadly, quite rare. That is why it is direly important that we know who Franck de Las Mercedes is. That is why it is direly important that we know what Franck de Las Mercedes does.

Fragile: Contains Knowledge; Fragile: Contains Hope: Fragile: Contains Trust

Franck’s “Priority Boxes” project, a non-profit art series, is the perfect example of what can transpire when the right person finds the right platform to say the right things. Each box, sent by mail to anyone who requests one, is both a canvas for a unique abstract painting and a platform for conveying a message. Drawing on lessons learned during his childhood in war-torn Nicaragua and the prodigious artistic talent he developed while coming of age in NYC, Mercedes is in the process of creating a phenomenon that is visceral as it is visual. As appearances on Telemundo, the syndicated cable program LatiNation, and CNN’s En Espanol Radio Show suggest, Franck is tapping into a collective need to feel connected to all that is beautiful, all that is inspirational, all that is empowering. Nice.

+ Tell us a little about your background. What helped shape your perspective and was there a huge transition moving from your native Nicaragua to the States?

Most of my family members were educators under Somoza (Anastasio Somoza Debayle- the former President of Nicaragua), and some sympathized with Somoza, so this made it difficult for us to stay there after the Sandinistas took power in 1979.   I came to the USA in the mid eighties at the age of 12. It was the height of the Counter Revolution, and the Sandinistas were literally snatching kids as young as 12 to send them to fight La Contra on the Nicaraguan borders. The thing I find very interesting about the whole thing is that we came to New York City at the height of the Crack and AIDS epidemics. Our first NYC experience was watching a drug dealer get shot in front of our building over some parking space. We had arrived to a new kind of kind of war. So it was a huge culture shock, I thought we had left violence behind.     

+ Wow what a powerful observation. How did these kinds of experiences shape your personal ethos and did they ultimately lead to art becoming your vehicle for expressing this reality?

I have to tell you, you never think of those experiences when you're living them. One was my country; the other became my country and my hood. They definitely shaped who I became as a person, but I realized that more recently. As an artist, I think my art is really driven by that chaos. I used to want to do more representational art, but my feelings wouldn't translate well, I would then end up in abstraction. I really don't think much about what I am painting, but I become really aware of my feelings, even if I don't understand them. I am convinced that those emotions are all memories that I can't quite describe or put into words. So I paint them. 

+ How do you feel about the term "self-taught?" I ask because you come from a background steeped in the Arts yet I've heard the term used in reference to your work. Do you think that the term is accurate in your case? Or in any case for that matter?

I try not to think about it too much. It used to bother me in the past, but the truth is, just because you're self-taught does not mean you don't study art. In my experience, I took advantage of what the NY Public Art Library had to offer. I remember borrowing huge stacks of videos, from instructional to bio-documentaries, to lectures by proficient artists. Not to mention, the countless Museum and gallery visits.   It does not matter what I think about the term, people are going to have their opinion, and I don't feel being self-taught is something to be defensive about. I do think going to school is important.

+ My first thought after learning about the "Priority Boxes" project was that it was ingenious to take something that is purely practical, a delivery box, and give it so much beauty and significance. How did the idea evolve and are they making the statement that you intended?

Thanks. The boxes came about quite by chance. For a long time I wanted to do a public project that was interactive and accessible to people but not in a "new media" futuristic kind of way. For a while, I had been selling pop art on eBay under a pseudo name and I would clean the brushes onto boxes in which paintings would later be shipped. One day, one of the clerks at the post office (who knew I was an artist) said to me "did you know that your boxes look like works of art?" That totally did it for me. The next step was to make sure that they had a message, which wasn't hard to figure out, since all one has to do was watch the news and see the state of the world and the state of our human condition. It needed to be something that raised a question of our fragility as humans and the fragility of things that we all wish for, like Peace. The art had to be abstract because it is what I do, but tangible so that it could be held by anyone in order to evoke thought and to promote art appreciation at the same time. Having said that, that's why it was important that the boxes, the art was free. The magic for me was to have come up with a concept that was, as you said, "Practical."   In an age of immediacy it was also important that the project was something that takes time to arrive, giving people time to think outside the box. The elements used for the project have been around forever. So I am myself amazed that people regard it as something very fresh. If I had a dollar for every time someone tells me "why didn't I think of that?" I would probably be able to ship more boxes.

priority boxes

+ There is a strong element of self exploration in your work but you also allow space for outside elements (nature, the viewer, the postal service) to influence the outcome. Is this balance between inner and outer forces a recurring or permanent facet of your creative approach?

Well, when painting my abstract work it is definitely about self exploration. It is the very reason why I became a painter, because it allowed me to explore myself. When I paint, I do it alone in my studio with nothing but my emotions and paints. I allow the paint to drip because I like gravity and time to take part in the work. The expressive part for me is showing the work and sending the boxes… presenting the work. The priority boxes fuse elements of painting, sculpture (a box), installation and interaction from the receiver. It all becomes part of the work.

+ I'm really into your portraits and feel that they convey a historical perspective that is marked by a respect for the sacrifice of others. Who are the people that you have looked to over the years for inspiration?

I have painted a few political portraits because I grew up looking at that type of propaganda when I was a kid. I am not a political person at all, but what really attracted me to paint the likes of Sandino, Carlos Fonseca Amador and Castro was the idea that street artists literally would risk their lives painting one of these portraits on a wall. I was really amazed at their bravery and desire to influence change and make a statement for what they believed in. The Castro portrait image I found in some old magazine and I just had to paint it. I thought it was amazing how long he has been around, which explains the cigar in the painting being long . I have to say I've always been inspired and influenced by walls on the streets, by texture, by bills and pasted ads and art that gets torn down and damaged by the weather. I think it is present even in my abstracts. As for artists, I've always been inspired by Hans Hoffman, Joan Mitchell, (Robert) Rauschenberg, ( Jackson) Pollock, Frida Kahlo, Basquiat and Bernard Buffett.   

+ What is next? Are there any particular projects or issues that you are planning to direct your energies toward?

The boxes have been taking much of my time lately. The project is very young still and I don't think I have exhausted it yet. The next step would be to find sponsors for the boxes since I want them to continue to be free. So far the funding for shipping and supplies has come from art sales, sales of my "Handle with Care T-shirts" and donations.  To me it is very important that the boxes reach out to all kinds of people and not just the art world. I am afraid that all the cutbacks in music and art programs in schools can create a generation of kids who will have no appreciation for the arts because they were not exposed to them. So I am directing my energies to making my art accessible and approachable for everyone.  

To see more of Franck’s work, receive additional information on the “Priority Boxes” project and find out how you can help support the non-profit art series , visit http://www.fdlmstudio.com,

Organized Konfusion
Stress: The Extinction Agenda
1994 Hollywood Records

"She tried to spray my face with mace | She didn't know that I enjoy the taste of radioactive waste." The kinds of things these rappers used to say.

Need an introduction to the genius and diversity of Panamanian music and you're going to buy this album? Brilliant!

Music Of My Mind

‘Seems So Long’ benefits from probably the heaviest use of keyboards and synthesized textures on any track so far; swirling ‘Leslie’ organ pads, the statement of the vocal melody at the top on lead synth, modulated rising pitch effects, and rather nasal string-like parts building to the climax. All this bears out the sleeve note’s claim: "The Man is his own instrument. The instrument is an orchestra."

But it falls to the next track to dispel the sometimes over-cute jazz feel of ‘Seems So Long.’ ‘Keep On Running’ (no relation to the classic Steve Winwood-sung Spencer Davis track of the same name) hits the ground not so much running as stalking around over an intro that’s as stark as the rather sinister "someone gonna jump out of the bushes and grab yer" lyric. The first two bars consist of repeated quarter-note A-flats played on low bass synth and piano which build an air of menace, the tension increased by the clavinet riff (G-flat to A-flat) – more repeated notes, but this time twice as fast, which requires a fair degree of technique to maintain. Tambourine rolls and oddly-spaced drum hits heighten the sense of anticipation before, finally, it comes to a halt after 24 bars, and the piano – in suitably discofied octaves – points up the main groove, and they’re off.

When I say "they," obviously it’s just him, Stevie, overdubbing himself, but the overall effect is so tight and ‘in the pocket’ that the resulting groove has a real band feel to it.

Jogging along at 136bpm, it’s the clavinets that provide the energetic center. In terms of overdubbing parts to form a greater whole, it’s a triumph – not one clav part, not two even, but three, honking along beside each other in a perfect wired mesh. Add to that a fairly unobtrusive bass synth part, a slightly roguish piano (more of that later) and skippy but driving drums, and you have the funkiest groove on Music Of My Mind, all executed by one person, in what is to become a very intense jam. One instrument, indeed…

As ever it’s the things you can’t quite tie down that are the interesting features in a song – and this one is full of them. The most obvious question would be: is this in a major or a minor key? The thing that distinguishes a major from a minor is the 3rd of the scale, and one occurs here in the first line of the first verse on the "-in" of "runnin’." It’s definitely a minor 3rd (C-flat), as is the top note of the just-right-of-centre wah-clav part. Yet on the inside of one of the clavinet parts (it really does get impossible to tell which) is a major 3rd (C-natural), which is reinforced on the second vocal phrase by the voice scooping up almost to the major.

Why is this important? Mainly because it shows the debt to the blues tradition and the ambivalence of major/minor in that music, as compared to the more strait-laced European approach to classical (and for that matter pop) harmony.

So the jury’s out on major/minor, and the bridge that follows the short, eigggggght-bar verse doesn’t provide too much by way of clues either, although vocally it’s more weighted to the minor. Halfway through the bridge there’s a crunch chord (Eb7#9) that contains both 3rds, serving as the archetypal blues/jazz tensioner. Not much resolution either, as we’re led back to another verse via that rogue piano break mentioned earlier. The rhythm track halts for a second while voice and piano, in somewhat rough unison, execute (almost literally) a just-south-of-pentatonic 16th-note run that seems to land over the edge of the piano somewhere, in time to be rescued by the rhythm section restarting.

Whether Stevie knew what he was trying to play or not doesn’t really matter; the end effect is one of helter skelter pursuit and stumble. Next time round it’s even clumsier, and as for the third time – it’s a scramble down and up the piano in an anarchic starburst of pent-up energy.

It’s the second break that finally leads to the chorus, and here’s a couple more of those surprises: first of all, there’s a change of vocal for the chorus tag and, secondly, the chorus melody line is angled more to the major – some sort of resolution at last. Stevie gives the chorus vocal to a ‘choir’ made up of (it sounds like) him and female voices, possibly Syreeta and/or Yvonne Wright, who both have co-writing credits on Music Of My Mind, though there are no mentions for extra vocalists on the album.

Once the chorus starts, it’s going to keep on running (you might say), and with the exception of a bridge, a couple of instrumental breakdowns and a few "hey hey heys," it’s there for the duration. And quite a duration it is – first chorus is at 1:53, track ends 6:37. Reminiscent of the extended fade on The Beatles’ ‘Hey Jude’ – both in its repetition and its free style – Stevie has to improvise over the chorus vocals. It’s a fade-out and a half.

Is the chorus line strong enough to take it? Well, the melody line is certainly intriguing: it swoops downwards and loops around again in an obsessive way that mirrors the persistence in the lyrics – "I know I’m gonna get you in the end." The harmony underneath is also static (Ab for two bars, Db9 for two), and without the exuberance and shifting improvised patterns of the backing track and the invention of Stevie’s ad lib vocal there wouldn’t be much to hang on to in terms of interest. In fact, it probably does outstay its welcome, despite the fine performances and differences in texture provided in the breakdowns.

The second of these, at around four minutes, provides an opportunity for the synth bass to come out from under the shadow of the clavinets’ incessant chasing – its funkier, gappy line harks back to classic Jamerson/Motown days, thanks to the offbeat chromatic stepping. It also looks forward to the busier but transcendentally funky bass part of ‘Boogie On Reggae Woman.’

Russian literature has always been a tasty read. In her debut novel, Olga Grushin tackles the circumstance of modern Russia as it moved away from its days as the U.S.S.R. circa 1985. Grushin was born in 1971 Moscow, she knows the iron curtain from the inside and living this reality moved her to write about it. Exploring these transitions and setting it against the art world is no small feat. Protagonist Anatoyla Sukhanov battles to keep buried all his dreams, fears and regrets, but the successfulness of his efforts remains in question. What is known is that Sukhanov made a choice, a betrayal of passion if you will, in 1967 and has to face it twenty-three years later. If you did the same, how would you fare? Would your life twist out of turn?

Two Cities
John Edgar Wideman
ISBN: 0-618-00185-9

This two-time Pen/Faulkner award winning Rhodes Scholar can write. This particular story focuses on love and redemption and circles around the lives of three people: a divorced woman, an older man and a still older man and his photographs. Not giving any secrets away on this one, just enjoy this African-American story by a dynamic African-American writer.

An amazing work, this collection of poems are interpretations of what might have gone through Harriet Tubman’s mind as she prepared to become Black Moses. Told first person in dialect, the poems bring Tubman’s humanity, pain, grief and faith to the forefront in a specific and emotionally charged way. Truly a gem and worthy work to add to any library.