THE DOOR | Directed by Ava DuVernay, 2013 | USA | 10 minutes

Originally posted on Huffington Post: Black Voices by Julee Wilson

Sit back, relax and prepare to watch the most stunning fashion film you’ve ever seen. Seriously.

Over the past two years, Miu Miu has released a string of short films under its The Women’s Tales series — a project of commissioned works from renowned female directors across the globe, which also artistically highlight some of the brand’s clothing collection. Today the Italian fashion house debuted the fifth installment,”The Door” directed by Ava DuVernay, the first African-American woman to win the Best Director Prize at Sundance Film Festival.

To put it plainly, the film is breathtaking. Thanks to DuVernay sharp cinematic eye and a star-studded cast that includes Gabrielle Union (who plays the lead), Alfre Woodard, Adepero Oduye, Emayatzy Corinealdi and Goapele — we can’t stop watching it. Couple that will the covetable Miu Miu clothes displayed throughout the 9-minute production and you’ve got yourself a cinematic masterpiece.

“In the film, characters arrive at the door of a friend in need, bringing something of themselves,” DuVernay explains. “Eventually, we witness our heroine ready to walk through the door on her own. The door in the film represents a pathway to who we are.”

The significance and power of a cast of black women being directed by a black woman for one of fashion’s most important brands should not be lost. Even in a time when First Lady Michelle Obama serves as an example of strength and style, it’s rare that we see women of color being celebrated for those qualities — especially on the covers of the top magazines and in fashion/beauty campaigns. With that said, we definitely watched this film with a high level of pride and hope that it will inspire more diversity within the industry.

And, let’s be honest, what a genius way to support the talent of female filmmakers and for viewers to swoon over Miu Miu’s exquisite designs.

[link]

Written by Rob Fields –

It’s blazing down on the field at Central Park Summerstage. On this hot June day, there’s partial shade in the bleachers, but those aren’t at all close to the stage, and who really wants to be that far from the action?

The growing crowd gladly suffers through the heat. On this day, they’re celebrating the 25th anniversary of the founding of the Black Rock Coalition, the progressive arts organization that was formed in 1985 by Living Colour guitarist Vernon Reid, journalist and cultural critic Greg Tate and artist/manager Konda Mason. Yes, folks are here to check out local rock favorites Pillow Theory, London-born, day-glo electro artist Ebony Bones, and innovative DJ and sound sculptor CX Kidtronik, but the main draw is the Black Rock Coalition’s flagship band, Living Colour. It’s a meeting of the trailblazers and the new jacks, all coming together under the flag of black rock. And it’s all happening at a time when black rock is gaining momentum as a cultural force.

”There’s so much cross-fertilization going on along with the use of aesthetics from other genres via Rihanna/Lil Wayne with down right references to rock/rock culture,” says Tamar-Kali, whose own rock-driven, hard-core warrior soul will be on display when her new album Black Bottom releases in mid-July. ”Moves like this by major label artists are prepping the palates of the mainstream audience and sparking curiosity. It’s a good thing.”

And that’s just it: It’s a great time to be a black musician providing alternatives to the dreck that assaults listeners multiple times an hour on most ”urban” radio stations. Call it black rock, Afro-punk or black alternative music. Across the country and around the world, black artists–Janelle Monae, TV on the Radio, Santigold, Gnarls Barkley, BLK JKS and Earl Greyhound, to name only a few–are making music that doesn’t fit neatly into the either/or boxes of hip-hop and R&B. Audiences like what they’re hearing and they want more.

According to a survey I conducted earlier this year of over 300 people via my black rock blog Boldaslove.us, 74 percent say their feelings about hip-hop have become indifferent or more negative. A similar percentage say that the amount of hip-hop they listen to has decreased over the past two years, as has the amount of commercial radio they consume. Over two-thirds say that black rock or Afro-punk is now a bigger part of what they listen to on a regular basis. And 9 out of 10 say that they consistently, if not regularly, seek out black artists who defy convention.

Based on the 30,000 people who attended last year’s Afro-punk Festival, co-founder Matthew Morgan also notes the expanding audience. ”Every year, more and more bands sign up for afropunk.com and want to play the festival,” he told me. ”More and more kids sign up that want their voice heard, so from my perspective, it’s growing.” (This year’s Afro-punk Festival takes place this weekend, June 25-27.)

This moment has been at least 25 years in the making, if you count from the formation of the Black Rock Coalition. But it’s been only in the last few years that the idea of a black alternative experience has been showing up more and more in the culture. In the early 2000s, there was James Spooner’s film Afro-punk and Raymond Gayle’s Electric Purgatory, both of which highlighted blacks in the punk and rock scenes. By 2007, major media outlets such as the New York Times, the New York Daily News, MTVNews and the venerable Ebony noted how African-American artists and audiences were not limiting themselves to hip-hop and R&B. Then the black rock musical Passing Strange won a Tony Award in 2008. Barry Jenkins’ film, Medicine for Melancholy, about two black hipsters in San Francisco, was released to critical acclaim in 2009. Kiss The Sky, journalist Farai Chideya’s debut novel that’s set in the world of black female rocker, came out that same year.

And that’s on top of the growing number of artists who are charting their own path with sounds not usually associated with African Americans.

Yohimbe Sampson is one black rocker who is feeling encouraged. Sampson is the guitarist with Game Rebellion, a rock/hip-hop band that will be performing again at this year’s Afro-punk Festival in Brooklyn. ”Now it seems folks are more open and able to embrace the limitless nature of their blackness,” he says. ”Nowadays nobody’s going to call a young brother skating through Bed-Stuy ‘white boy’.”

Or, as Walt Chastang, a member of Atlanta’s The 54 and another Afro-punk Festival performer, points out: ”The black/urban ‘counter-culture,’ if you will, is not quite as counter as it used to be even five years ago.”

However, amid the bubbling up of new black rockers, some see a potential danger of substance giving way to style. ”I see many young artists wanting to expand the boundaries of the music and that’s a beautiful thing,” says Jimi Hazel of  24-7 Spyz. ”What I don’t see is a desire to put the work in to learn and understand the craft of songwriting or the art of musicianship.”

Part of the problem is technology, notes Boston Fielder, founder of the URB Alt Festival and bandleader of the MuthaWit Orchestra.

Now that production tools like Autotune can fit onto a laptop, virtually everyone thinks they can be a rock star.  And that, Fielder says, is not such a good thing. ”Technology has put so much limited knowledge into the hands of the average person that we’ve forgotten that the label of genius has to be earned … through the grace of the universe, hard work and consistency,” he says.

The $64,000 question: What’s it going to take for this new wave of black rockers to have staying power? First, learn the business, says Moon, a singer-songwriter who’s on this year’s URB Alt lineup with her D.C.-based band, Uninterrupted. ”When it comes down to it, the issue isn’t white or black, but green. If you know how to make the business work for you, then no one can stop you,” she says. And Tamar-Kali echoes others when she says that artists can’t just adopt the style and poses of a scene. ”Just do your art,” she says. ”Without fail, you will wake up black every morning. In the context of music, you are a musician first.”

Back at the Black Rock Coalition show at Central Park, Living Colour, an inspiring example of staying power, has taken the stage. The packed audience is rocking out, hands in the air and grooving and dancing to the band’s catalog, from their big hit ”Cult of Personality” to newer rock grinders like ”DecaDance.”

Earl Douglas, the Black Rock Coalition’s executive director, surveys the crowd, smiles and notes that scenes like this are being replicated around the world. ”Twenty five years and this thing of ours has gone global,” he says. ”There are extraordinary things [in terms of bands and audiences for black rock/Afro-punk] happening in England, France, Germany and South America. If all of these scenes can come together and more importantly, work together, the sky’s the limit,” he says. ”That’s what I envision the BRC doing in the next 25 years–connecting all of the dots.”

Rob Fields blogs about black alternative music and culture at Boldaslove.us.

[theroot.com]

The American Promise journey began in 1999, when filmmakers Joe Brewster and Michèle Stephenson enrolled their son Idris in the Dalton School on the Upper East Side of Manhattan after the private institution boldly strengthened its commitment to cultivating a diverse student body. Michèle and Joe decided to turn the camera on themselves to film the experiences of 5-year-old Idris and his best friend and classmate Seun. The documentary captures the stories of Idris, Seun, and their families from the first day of kindergarten all the way to their 2012 high school graduation.

Over the 12 years, we see the boys and their families struggle with stereotypes and identity, navigate learning differences that later become diagnoses, and ultimately take increasingly divergent paths on their road to graduation. We also see a rare and vivid portrait of middle-class African-American families as the parents wrestle with doubts and angst over their sons’ educational journey and both families grapple with how best to support their sons and interact with teachers and administrators. All of this is set against the backdrop of a persistent educational achievement gap that dramatically affects African-American boys at all socioeconomic levels across the country.

Filmmakers Bios

Joe Brewster, Producer/Director

Joe Brewster’s thought provoking narrative films and documentaries have challenged and inspired audiences across the globe and along the way garnered awards both domestically and internationally. His 1996 debut, THE KEEPER was screened at Toronto, Sundance and Cannes Film Festival and received a Spirit Award nomination. His work, distributed internationally on cable and in theatrical venues, has received numerous awards for his direction and production.

Michèle Stephenson, Producer/Director

Michèle Stephenson uses her international experience as a human rights attorney to tackle stories on communities of color and human rights. An early pioneer in the Web 2.0 revolution, Stephenson used video and the internet to structure human rights campaigns and train people from across the globe in video internet advocacy. Her work has appeared on PBS, Showtime, MTV and other outlets. Stephenson’s honors include: Best Film Directed by a Woman of Color, ADFF; Grand Jury Prize for Best Documentary, ABFF; Diversity Award, SilverDocs International Documentary Film Festival; and the Henry Hampton Award for Excellence in Film and Digital Media.

website: [http://www.americanpromise.org/ ]

Written by Daniel Fienberg –

For the most part, the proper length for a Sundance Film Festival documentary is between 80 and 95 minutes. There is almost literally no subject matter that I don’t have an hour-and-a-half of interest in. I just watched “The Machine Which Makes Everything Disappear,” a 97-minute documentary from Georgia — the former Soviet republic, not the home of the Falcons — in which nothing at all happened, but it was still worthy, because it offered a series of vignettes from a national and a culture that are totally foreign to me. The same is equally true of docs about cows, killer whales and several variations on economic inequality themes.

“American Promise,” already set to air on PBS’ “POV,” has a running time of just over 140 minutes. It isn’t just the longest documentary in either the US or World competition, but it’s the only doc in either competition to top two hours.

“American Promise” has many lessons — It runs an intellectual gamut — but its biggest lesson is probably that there actually isn’t a “proper” length for any documentary. Spanning over a decade in the lives of two kids and two families, “American Promise” is substantive and emotionally epic, one of the most thoughtful and nourishing films I’ve seen for this year’s Festival.

Joe Brewster and Michele Stephenson’s documentary breaks the peculiar B-range grading logjam I’ve been in since hitting Sundance. It’s a film that should have people talking, both in Park City and, in a few months, in living rooms and classrooms.

Because of its longitudinal study structure and its use of maturing children to touch on issues of race and class in contemporary America, it’s tempting to think of “American Promise” as “Hoop Dreams” without the hoops. That’s a comparison worth avoiding, both because “Hoop Dreams” is in a class by itself and because “American Promise” actually includes a smattering of basketball, albeit nowhere near the forefront.

“American Promise” begins in 1999 when Brewster and Stephenson decided to send their five-year-old son Idris to begin kindergarten at the Dalton School, which chyrons tell me is an astoundingly prestigious prep school, sending 31 percent of its student body to the Ivy League, M.I.T. or Stanford. Idris is joined by best friend Seun, as the kids and their parents are taking advantage of Dalton’s efforts to expand the diversity of its student body. They also decided to follow Idris and Seun — plus several other kids who dropped out of the project, as often happens with longitudinal study documentaries — with cameras to showcase the anticipated culture shock.

It’s an interesting filmmaking and sociological experiment both in how it reflects on Idris and Seun, but what it says about the parents who choose to transform their kids into guinea pigs. It’s to Brewster and Stephenson’s credit that while they’re not quite as central to the film as Idris, not only are they very present, but they’re also not embarrassed to potentially look bad. Brewster in particular alternates between being a caring father and a high-pressure tyrant in a way that’s fairly normal, but also could have been dodged if the co-director had felt any self-consciousness.

Over the 12-year educational journey, Idris and Seun grow up and develop in exactly the ways that good drama would tend to dictate. Both have academic struggles and face the option of leaving Dalton. Both battle learning disabilities and the need to be properly diagnosed. Both face the possibility that they are being judged by teachers and administrators on criteria weighted by race and gender issues. Both deal with the challenges of assimilating into a majority white culture and then both deal with the ramifications of being seen as too white. These are the same issues that their parents also have to contemplate, as they wonder whether or not they did right by their sons, as Idris and Seun also go through normal rites of passage like varying popularity and dating and the looming prospect of college. “American Promise” has all of the generalities that any parent will find familiar, with specificities stemming from the public/private school divide as well as society’s expectations of and involuntary responses to black masculinity. There’s a lot to chew on.

There’s always a dice-rolling side to documentaries like this. Idris and Seun both could have excelled in classes, been the coolest kids in their school, matured preternaturally and gotten into Harvard and Brewster and Stephenson would have been left scrambling to get heft out of their 12 years of footage. Fortunately for the documentary, if not for Idris and Seun, the two subjects go from fairly normal kids to fairly normal teens. Idris is prone to temper tantrums, he’s shy with girls and he’s undersized to play basketball. Seun’s family issues pile up distressingly.

And, throughout, the bottom line message of the documentary is constantly shifting. There are a couple moments where it feels like simple answers are being suggested, but there is a more complicated meditation here. It’s not as simple as “Kids learn better when they’re in high-achieving and diverse environments” nor “Go to school with people like you and you’ll be a better student.” Sometimes “bad” parenting yields positive results and sometimes “nurturing” leads to something counter-intuitive. In “American Promises,” choices have consequences, but institutional impediments can be just as powerful.

Many Sundance movies make strong and convincing cases, but they eventually lead to single homogenous conclusions. If you watch “Blackfish,” you come out angry with Seaworld. You leave “Pussy Riot – A Punk Prayer” outraged at the state of justice in Russia. In contrast, “American Promise” doesn’t force viewers to any one conclusion and could open things up for debate, without necessarily being polarizing. Oh and it’s also an enjoyable, frequently funny, sometimes sad film. Engaging to both the mind and the heart? Yeah, “American Promises” is one of the best Sundance movies I’ve seen this year.

Originally posted on hitfix.com.

Written by Brandon I. Brooks – 

Veteran and professional photographer Valerie Goodloe premiered her debut documentary film, “Gang Girl: A Mother’s Journey to Save Her Daughter,” at the 2011 Pan African Film Festival.

The story of “Gang Girl” is based upon Valerie Goodloe and her family’s ongoing struggle to save her daughter, Nafeesa, from the notorious gang culture that haunts Los Angeles’ inner-city streets.

Nafeesa, like many youngsters growing up in Los Angeles, decided to join a gang (Bloods) and spent the majority of her youth years running the streets, terrorizing her so-called rivals, committing crimes such as grand theft auto and God knows what else.

The “gang-bang” life as it’s called is “addicting,” in the words of Nafeesa, and in her mind, “it is what it is.” Nafeesa reveals the harsh realities of growing up without a care except to bang with the homies and get high every day. You sense the depression of her experiences and the lack of motivation behind her day-to-day life.

Part of Nafeesa’s depression is caused by her sexual confusion and her family’s struggle to accept the Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay, and Transgender (LBGT) as a normal way of life. During the film, Nafeesa admits she prefers to hang with the male gang members as she carries herself much like a male gangster. She says that her homies from the ’hood accept her no matter what her sexual preference is and that is part of the love she doesn’t get from her family.

The film interviews fellow gang members, including older female gang members that have been “banging” for their entire lives. The film documents how gang culture can be a lifelong commitment for many people and that is why Valerie feels she must save her daughter. She refuses to allow her to become another statistic.

“Gang Girl” documents the generational culture of gangs and how kids are literally being raised from birth to become part of the “hood-life.” They call these kids “embryos.”

Congresswoman Maxine Waters made an appearance at the PAFF premiere for “Gang Girl,” as she is also featured in the film. The film documents how on one occasion, Waters assisted Valerie and her family with finding Nafeesa after Nafeesaa ran away from home.

Waters and Goodloe are close friends, as Goodloe has worked many events for the congresswoman. One evening, when Valerie happened to be shooting an event for Waters, she asked Valerie, “How is your family doing?,” and Valerie answered honestly, which at the time was bad because her family was in turmoil over the disappearance of Nafeesa. Waters told Valerie that immediately after the event, they together would find Nafeesa.

Being the community leader she is, Waters literally brought a truck load of food and turkeys to the community where Nafeesa was reportedly missing and passed them out for information of Nafeesa’s whereabouts. This particular story is documented in the film and illustrates just how committed Valerie Goodloe was and is in rescuing her daughter from the mean streets of L.A. The film features interviews from family members including Nafeesa’s step-father, sister and biological father, who she currently lives with. Her biological father has been there with her and her mother Valerie, the entire way trying to save Nafeesa from becoming a statistic.

The docu-film also features star actor Glynn Turman who runs a youth camp for kids called “Camp Gid D Up.” Founded in 1992, “Camp Gid D Up,” according to their website, has been a free western style summer camp program for disenfranchised inner-city and at-risk youth ages 9 to 18. Every summer, for over 18 years, more than 100 youth and 45 staff enjoy a week on a real working ranch.

Nafeesa and some of the other gang members featured in the film spent time with Glynn at his camp and immediately during the film you can witness the transformation in not only Nafeesa but the other participating gang members. The work being done at “Camp Gid D Up,” by the Turman family proves that you have to take people out of their normal environment to grow and experience and open mind. The film also features other community members such as “Skip,” whom runs a gang intervention program to help ex-gang members and troubled youth escape the streets and find alternatives to the destructive life they have lived.

“Gang Girl,” is a must see film for all ages.

This film needs to be seen in schools all around the country, not just in Los Angeles inner city schools. The story of Nafeesa speaks to a wider audience than just gang members or affiliates. “Gang Girl” is a real-life story about a family’s struggle and more importantly a family’s will to survive their environment. Valerie Goodloe, like any loving parent, refuses to give up on her child. Her passion and love for her family led her to document her family’s struggle in its rawest sense so that all families can learn from her experience. That candid perspective and sacrifice is what makes Valerie who she is today.

Valerie and her daughter open their lives and telling the raw and vivid truth in the film. “Gang Girl” has the potential to save many lives because it doesn’t hold back from the harsh realities of life. I recommend the film be shown to all ages and hopefully be picked up by a major network for national and international distribution.

Originally published in LA Watts Times. Taken from Congresswoman, Maxine Waters page.

Read more at Eurweb.com

Uzuri grew up dreaming of travel, reading adventure novels and poetry under the pecan trees of her idyllic early years in rural North Carolina.

Visions of other lands and other worlds entwined with the musical roots that formed the foundation of Uzuri’s intensely focused approach to evoking places and moments with her powerful yet subtle voice. The old Spirituals, the gospel music she heard in her small country church and from her extended family, in particular from her formidable grandmother, sunk in deep.

“I feel like my granny’s sensibility shaped me. She had an off-key joyful voice, and every morning she would wake up and start the day singing,” Uzuri remembers fondly. “Her music was about praising and gratitude. She taught me that the intention of singing is to express.”

Uzuri honors her foremother, who passed as Uzuri began working on the album, in a profound, bittersweet tribute on “Soul Still Sings.” She takes the lessons her grandmother imparted to heart with in her keen storytelling: Her compelling voice sketches conjured trysts on train platforms (“Meet Me at the Station”) and prayers on a mountaintop (“I Sing the Blues”).

Following the inspiration to travel and explore the country, Uzuri found herself in New York, where that long-felt connection between roots and the world’s roads came to life. She fell in love with artists like Mailian diva Oumou Sangare’s beckoning, soaring voice, with the praise and ecstasy she heard in Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s music.

“The first time I was introduced to Nusrat’s music, I felt like it was gospel music,” Uzuri recounts. “I didn’t know what he was saying but I understood. Just before his death, I got to see him perform at a Sufi community concert, and it was like a charismatic church service. The integrity and passion was the same.” Uzuri’s open, curious ear has made her an eclectic bandleader who loves to gather stellar multicultural male and female musicians and to bring together unexpected instruments, from sitar and daf to acoustic guitar and cello. Yet the mosaic approach feels seamless, drawn together by Uzuri’s compelling and versatile voice.

La Havas was born in London, England to a Greek father and Jamaican mother. She was raised in Tooting and Streatham, spending the majority of her time with her grandparents, following her parents’ separation as a child. La Havas’ cites her parents’ diverse musical tastes as having the biggest influence on her music. She began singing at seven. Her mother played Jill Scott and Mary J. Blige, while her father, an accomplished multi-instrumentalist, taught her the basics of guitar and piano. Lianne wrote her first song at the age of 11 but did not learn to play the guitar until she was 18 years old. At 18, Lianne began attending Norbury Manor Business and Enterprise College for Girls in Croydon, where she studied art and planned to take her A-Levels in art foundation. However, she left college and decided to pursue a career in music full-time.

While attending sixth-form in Croydon, a friend of La Havas’, (who attended the Brit School) introduced her to other musicians who assisted La Havas in the recording of her first demos. Through that same friend, La Havas was also introduced to British singer, Paloma Faith; she later sang backing vocals on tour for Faith. La Havas was co-writer and performer in ‘The Paris Parade’ alongside Christian Pinchbeck (who designed the artwork for Lost & Found) and also is now part of the duo ‘Elephant’ (Memphis Industries). They had a short career but it began La Havas’ career in commercial music. In 2010, Lianne signed to Warner Bros. Records, spending two years developing her songwriting skills before releasing music publicly.

Her first EP Lost & Found was released on 21 October 2011 on the Labour of Love label and featured Willy Mason on the opening track, “No Room For Doubt”. That same month, La Havas released a live EP, Live From LA, which was made available for free download on her website. La Havas made her television debut on 21 October 2011, broadcast of BBC Two’s Later, with Jools Holland, a program that also featured Wisconsin folk band Bon Iver. Following her appearance on Later, with Jools Holland, it was announced on October 25, 2011 that La Havas would be the supporting act for Bon Iver’s December 2011 North American tour. Her official debut single, “Lost & Found” was released in the UK on April 30, 2012, and her debut album, Is Your Love Big Enough, was released on July 9, 2012 in the UK on Warner Brothers.

(Wikipedia.org)

Jamaica, Dir. by New Caribbean Cinema, 80 min.

As described by the filmmakers behind it… The New Caribbean Cinema Series is a fresh, pioneering approach to film-making in the Caribbean. A mixture of ‘First World’ technical skill and business savvy, flavored with a distinctly Caribbean world-view, the New Caribbean Cinema Series proposes to present the world with a showcase of creative artistry from the region’s up and coming filmmakers. The series is a Caribbean co-production, jointly produced by Storm Saulter from Jamaica and the St Lucian born Michelle Serieux. The productions rely heavily on the creative and technical support of Joel Burke and Nile Saulter and are sustained by the commitment and effort of their production crew, who work at greatly reduced costs so that they can create a body of work that represents their capabilities. Tired of waiting on funding that never comes, New Caribbean Cinema exists to challenge old models and to prove that in the region, innovation and ingenuity are key to artistic expression.

One of the films to come out of that series will make its Caribbean premiere at the Trinidad+Tobago Film Festival later this month.

Titled Ring di Alarm!, the feature film comprises of a compilation of eight short films by different directors about life in modern-day Jamaica, made by the New Caribbean Cinema filmmakers’ collective. The filmmakers include Desmond Young, Joel Burke, Kyle Chin, Michael “Ras Tingle“ Tingling, Michelle Serieux, Nile Saulter, and Storm Saulter.

As the festival write-up describes it… Moving from the majestic Blue Mountains, to the gritty ghetto, to the stunning north coast, and spinning stories funny, suspenseful, thrilling and poignant, this is a cinematic mosaic as diverse and complex as the island that inspired it.

(Indiewire.com)

This film will be shown as part of ImageNation’s Afro-Cinematique Showcase. Click here for more information.