I don’t know what to say about these dark and violent times. I know I want to lean toward the light. This is that: a collaboration with the brilliant singer-songwriter Vickie Burick on our shared birthday weekend, filmed The Grey Eagle by Jesse Hamm.
(This is an encore of our May performance at the Asheville Area Arts Council as part of the “Beyond Knowing” exhibition and panel discussion, curated by David Sheldon.)
“Stargazing” by Alli Marshall // “We All Fall Down” by Vickie Burick // “Prophet and Loss” by Alli Marshall
FLYER IN A DARK CHAMBER: Meditations on Lilith is a collaboration between performance poet Alli Marshall, musician Liz Lang (Auracene); dancers Sharon Cooper and Coco Palmer Dolce, Butoh artist Jenni Cockrell, and with imagery from artist Alli Good. Soundscapes, words and movement lead viewers through a series of vignettes delving into the many faces of Lilith, from the original woman who refused to be subjected by a man in the Garden of Eden to the miracles of the Black Madonnas of the Christian faith to the recent clemency of Cyntoia Brown who was accused of killing a sex trafficker.
The show will be performed on Saturday, Aug. 24, 7 p.m. at Black Mountain College Museum + Arts Center, 120 College St., Asheville.
$10 for BMCM+AC members and students with ID / $15 non-members.
Tickets at brownpapertickets.com.
Happy Solstice! In celebration of Litha/Cancerian Season/eclipse season/the longest day of the year, I’m releasing Dear Satyr, a collection of erotic spoken-word, in collaboration with the electronic musician NeoElph.
The poems and music were originally created for a spoken-word show to observe Beltane.
My talented singer-songwriter friend Heather Taylor recently invited me to collaborate with her on one of her songs. Jesse Hamm of Acoustic Asheville filmed this video of her performing “Up on a Mountain” with my poem “Collar of Wasps” in the middle.
A performance from this year’s Asheville Percussion Festival. Soundscape by Bonnie Whiting, movement by Brandi Mizilca, words by me. It’s a poem about creative work and women’s work and the intersection of the two: the point at which an artist steps through fear to meet a challenge. (At least that’s what I think it’s about — but it’s totally open to interpretation.)
Video and audio by Joshua Messick, live soundboard audio mix by Steve Beatty and Edward Link at Diana Wortham Theatre in Asheville, video editing by Asheville Rhythm.
What is the responsibility of venue bookers, music promoters, club owners, and festival organizers to create a platform for artists of color? It’s a tricky conversation to introduce, because there are so many issues — ticket sales, popularity, potential tokenism — but I think it’s more important to have the conversation than to be graceful about it.
Photo by Jorge Salgado from this year’s Neon Desert Festival
So I’ll start here: Asheville, where I live, is a predominantly white town with a nationally recognized music scene and a high per-capita number of excellent concert halls and listening rooms. But peruse the lineup of at least three of the most popular venues in town and you’re lucky to find one person-of-color-led act in any given month. I recently browsed the calendar for one such music hall that lists no artists of color from September through December. Continue reading
I learned something this week: There are no artists of color performing at the upcoming Riddle Festival, an annual event celebrating Lesley Riddle. What you need to know here is that Riddle was an African-American musician from Burnsville who greatly influenced the Carter Family. So think about that for a minute: The first family of country music has a black musician to thank.
Lesley “Esley” Riddle, right, with guitarist Brownie McGhee.
This is not the only story where mountain, Appalachian, country, folk and roots music — much of which seems so of the domain of white folks — is actually closely tied to and even originating from the creative efforts of people of color. But because the white narrative has long been the dominant narrative, people of color tend to be diminished or overlooked or left out altogether. Or not invited to participate in a festival commemorating a person who looks like them and represents the history, hopes, talents, and ingenuity of their community.
I don’t think the organizers behind Riddle Fest intended any harm or slight, but I do think these kind of oversights pile up, one on top of the next, until we really can’t see past them anymore. Words like “appropriation” get bandied about — for good reason — but I see a greater harm. Yes, when white musicians record and profit from the songs of unrecognized musicians of color, it’s plagiarism and Continue reading