Feminism, Intersectionality and Rihanna's bottom

Forget Lily Allen and Miley Cyrus for a moment, the pop video on everyone's lips right now, for various reasons, is Rhianna's "Pour It Up". I've been reading some very interesting and insightful articles on this clip the last few days (thanks mainly to Khalil West and Stephanie Davis) so thought I would compile them here for safekeeping, as a reading list of some excellent articles/opinions, and to add my own (white/cis/gay/male) 2 cents.

To say it's a video that divides opinion is an understatement. Set in what appears to be an underwater strip club, devoid of men, the clip really reminds me of Maurice Binder's iconic, seminal intro sequences for James Bond. It's the sexy silhouttes, and the pole twirling. Seeing as, barring Skyfall, Bond intros of the last 15 years have been excruciatingly bad, maybe RiRi (who drected the clip) should get in touch with producer Cubby Brocolli and offer her services?

The video has been slammed for being overtly sexual, and, yes, even for a gay man, the final scenes of Rihanna twerking and rubbing her crotch on that throne make me hot and bothered. The Feminist Wire got the ball rolling by publishing an article featuring a variety of reactions, good and bad, to the clip by some prominent women of colour:

Sound Off: Black Women Writers respond to Rihanna's "Pour It Up"

The same site then went one further in publishing this piece in support of the video by Muna Mire:

Talk Back: In Defense Of Rihanna

(Some important info gleaned from this piece: the original, male, co-director of the clip pulled out of the project and asked to have his name removed, prompting a ZINGER of a comback from Ri-Ri, who then became the clip's sole director. Meaning: this clip is not representative of the "male gaze" associated with exploitation.)

The excellent blogger Batty Mamzelle (who got considerable recognition a few months back for her article Solidarity Is For Miley Cyrus) expands on some of the Talk Back themes in the (self-explanatory) piece:

Sexualisation, Exploitation and Black Female Celebrities: On the stripper Anthems of Rihanna and Nicki Minaj

Mamzelle points out that Minaj and Ri-Ri use the act of stripping/strip club settings as a form of female empowerment, using their skills and appearance to, in effect, exploit men and earn money. But is it that simple?

The next article, by Parks & Recreation/The Muppets actress Rashida Jones, doesn't believe so, she believes Minaj and Ri-Ri are part of a bigger problem that needs addressing:

Why Is Everyone Getting Naked? Rashida Jones on the Pornification of Everything

I have to be honest - I was very pleasantly surprised by the quality of Jones' writing in this piece. No, NOT because she is a woman, but because she is a celebrity who achieved her fame as an actress, not as a writer (in this day and age, if you're not throwing side-eye at every demi-lebrity's attempt at expanding their "skill set", then I applaud your naivete).

I may not completely agree with her, but I love the way she has expressed herself, and hope to read more from her. And, ok, she HAS a point about the "tonnage" of female pop stars eager to expose their bodies at this point in time. Does the claim of "empowerment" lose its weight when getting naked seems more a job requirement than a genuine choice?

Maybe. So, why should the inclusion of Rhianna (and Nicki Minaj) be contentientious here?

I'll leave the explanation to Batty Mamselle:

Discussions of Sexuality are not the same for Women of Colour: Let's stop pretending they are

So why would this be so? Why should criticisms of white female pop stars not be relevant to non-white female pop stars? Well, in case you needed more convincing than the above article can provide, the following might help. This is one of the most insightful pieces written on "Pour It Up" so far, by three women of colour (one of whom is actually a stripper), transcribed from a discusion in Google Hangout:

Rihanna On My Mind: Chatting about the Pour It Up video

That article is really excellent, to me the kind of thing that makes me glad of our new media technologies, and the genuinely interesting interactions that can happen through social media. There is no filter, no need for an interpreter of any kind: let the kind of people portrayed in the video speak for themselves and tell us what they think of it.

As opposed to some random white dude who's not even in the same damn country.

So. What are my thoughts? Well, if you care to read on, I will tell you.

As I said above I am neither a black woman, nor a straight man, and to me those are the primary audiences for this clip (obviously, for very different reasons).

But what I am is a person who does not fit into traditional beauty modes, neither Western nor non-Western, and as such I feel that the kind of empowerment claimed for the Rihanna clip is only applicable to women who conform to certain body types. Which is not to say the clip is NOT empowering, not at all, just that I have my doubts that the clip is AS empowering to all women of colour as suggested in some of the articles above. The reach of its empowerment in limited, and [pure conjecture here] may even be damaging to women/girls who do not/never will conform to the beauty standard set by Rihanna, and in this video, her dancers.

That's not to say I dislike the video: far from it. I think it's a great piece of pop art.

But here's the thing, one hugely important and powerful aspect of "Pour It Up" that no-one seems to be mentioning: this is a POP video, so to judge it PURELY on image without taking into account the music (and not just the lyrics, but the melodies, arrangement, tone, etc) is not to judge it fully, in my opinion. It's unlikely that "Pour It Up" is watched with the sound off, and if it is, it's pretty safe to say that would be for masturbation purposes.

I love the song, but the feeling (yes, highly subjective and possibly problematic, I know) is not necessarily one of female empowerment. It's not one of exploitation either, though. To these ears there seems to be a deeply ingrained sadness to "Pour It Up". The whole song modulates between two minor chords, hardly the stuff of celebration, and there is a "sinister" sounding synth-string drone, reminiscent of Angelo Badlamienti's work for David Lynch, all the way through the track. Rihanna's vocals are, except for the wordless "woah-oh" bridge, softer and more controlled than on tracks like "S&M" and "We Found Love".

The arrangement is very spare, with constant drop-outs of the beat, suggesting it's not exactly a "club" track. The synths, as I kinda mentioned, sound reminiscent of 80s horror/thriller movies, especially that string part which underpins the whole track. While that kind of synth sound fits pretty neatly with conventions of the Trap genre (which is apparently very popular in US strip clubs), again, to me, it's not something that necessarily suggests celebration or empowerment. Compare it to A$AP Rocky's "Fashion Killa", whose video co-stars Rihanna, (and if rumours are to be believed, whose nascent romance with Rocky probably inspired the track) and is essentially a celebration of a woman's wardrobe and her shopping skills. "Fashion Killa" is light and airy, sounding warm and fuzzy and content, like the high of ecstacy or, suitably, the first blush of romance. In comparison, "Pour It Up" sounds menacing, less hopeful, more resigned. If "Fashion Killa" is an MDMA high, "Pour It Up" is a cocaine comedown (which, to be fair, is VERY Trap!)

Just to be clear, these aren't criticisms. These are observations. I don't want to seem like I am imposing upon Rihanna any ideas of what she "should" sound like. No-one, apart from Rihanna herself, or perhaps her most trusted producers, has the right to impose that on her, and as an artist she is more than capable of delivering hooky, quality pop music, and knowing what works the best for her, within her own limits. I recognise (and celebrate) that music is highly subjective, meaning different things for different people. I've also been involved in making music for half my life, so I tend to think about these kind of things a lot, and can't help analysing the "Pour It Up" song as part of the overall music video package.

Undoubtedly stripping and pole dancing has been beneficial for some women of colour, and it's not my place to tell these women, well, anything really! If a WoC finds this "Pour It Up" a resonant celebration of that life, then that is fucking awesome and they should OWN that for all its worth. Like I said, I do really like this track, and think that the Unapologetic LP has some of Ri-Ri's best work to date.

As a performer/singer/personality, I find Rihanna to be pretty damn good. She delivers great pop music, and I totally get how she is someone who acts with agency within a world where that could be denied to her. But then, as I argued the same thing a few years back about Beyonce, I think I may be more tuned to that as a gay man who follows pop music, and the careers of many hyper-managed female performers (while not being part of their primary target audience).

And let's be real here: Rihanna gives the BEST side-eye in modern music.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I first came to "Pour It Up" via this remix by Ynfynyt Scroll, which makes the track much more "club" friendly, and which may have skewed my view of the song a wee bit. It's awesome though, and well worth downloading: 

bell hooks "Is Paris Burning?" 1992

If you're a fan of Paris Is Burning and vogue culture in general, then wrap your peepers around the following.

bell hooks (spelled with no capitals) is a respected writer and cultural critic, best known for her writings on race and gender. "Is Paris Burning?" is an essay by hooks from the Black Looks collection from 1992, and is essentially a critique of the film we all know and love.

I may not necessarily agree with everything hooks writes, but this essay is a very valuable reading, adding insights from a black person's p.o.v. that may be missing for many white/straight viewers of the film. I'm not going to republish the essay here but you can read it at this link:
http://stjsociologyofgender.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/paris_burning_bell_hooks.pdf

Highly recommended! Thanks to Stephanie Davis for the link.

DJ SPRINKLES in-depth interview, part 1

Is house music really a "feeling"? What exactly are we keeping "real"? How do we define notions of the "authentic" in this cut-and-paste, electronic-information age, and, just as importantly, how do we pick those notions apart again? And anyway, who says an "album" can't be more than a day long?

This was one of the many unexpected directions that my interview with Terre Thaemlitz, aka DJ SPRINKLES, took when we sat down back in May at Glasgow's Tramway theatre. I was in town to review Arika's Episode 5: Hidden in Plain Sight, and to interview some of the weekend-long festival's performers, including Sprinkles. As this was a voguing event, I assumed our conversation would primarily be focused on dance music and gender/presentation. But I was pleasantly blown away by Terre's unique outlook and the explanation of the different philosophies that surround it.

We spoke for almost an hour, and what you read below is only the first 20 minutes of our conversation. So, yes, this interview is definitely what you would call "epic". We did talk about gender, dancing and vogue too, and I will be uploading the rest of this on CVNTY over the next few weeks, presented with as little editing as possible, besides some slight revisions made by Terre.

So how did you come to be involved in Arika and the Hidden In Plain Sight project?

I am here under two different aliases. One is Terre Thaemlitz, which is my legal name. On Saturday I am doing a lecture as Terre, and then in the evening a concert with video performance, all based around a project which is called "Soulessness". And then tonight, as DJ Sprinkles, I am djing at a club called Stereo. I'm doing the warm-up set for Vjuan Allure.

Do you know Vjuan?

No I don't know Vjuan, I have to confess ignorance 'cos I am so out of touch with the new school scene, and also I left New York in '97. For the last 12 years I have been living in Japan, so I am quite removed form a lot of western references in general. I am happy to meet people though, because of this whole Ney York revival of the scene, and Michael and the people doing the Vogueology project. It's exciting for me.

I have to admit, the line-up for HIdden In Plain Sight, and tonight's gig at Stereo, is very impressive. I'm always a bit sceptical when I see artists or groups appropriating vogue culture, but Arika definitely seem to be doing it well.

I think Arika are interested in having it connect to the people who come to their usual shows. One of the connections that has come up, in a few of their episodes, is the history of Glasgow in connection to the slave trade and how that connects to African American culture. So I think that is part, on a material history level, of trying to see these traces. But it's also one of these things where it takes a weird international meeting in Glasgow for us to meet each other.

Can you explain to me what your talk/presentation and show tomorrow are going to be about? 

What I am doing tomorrow is a project called "Soulessness", which I have billed as the world's first full length MP3 album. The format is a 16Gb micro SD card that has over 32 hours of music, 165 pages of pdf text and images, and then 80 minutes of video. The text and video are also translated into 10 different languages. The idea is that the centrepiece is a 29 hour and 40 minute MP3 file that is just under 4 Gb, which is the maximum file limitation size under fat32 requirements, and that is how I came to define how long an MP3 album would be. So the theme of that particular piece, which is called "Meditation On Wage Labour and the Death of the Album", is about how, with the transition from album to CD, and then from CD to MP3 (where we have the CD plus digital exclusive downloads, etc) and then the press demanding online mixes and stuff, basically as producers we have been conditioned to produce more and more content over the years. At the same time the labels are playing lower royalties and advances, etc. and this, for me, represents a labour crisis.

So I wanted to do a piece about this crisis of the ever expanding definition of what the album is, based on media format duration. Because these days we tend to think of the album as a conceptual framework, but actually concept of "the album" was first defined by vinyl playback duration, where you can have up to 18 minutes of audio per side before introducing notable sound degradation. Before the CD, vinyl albums were 36 minutes to 40 minutes. The CD album went up to 74 (then 78 and 80) minutes. So that 30 hour, 4GB MP3 file is Soulnessless' audio centrepiece, and it's accompanied by a text on the themes of meditation, wage labour and the death of the album. It's thinking about how materialist practices and analyses are burdened by always using language that is in servitude to, and created by, dominant cultures - which are almost always in service to the right. So the language we are left with to construct our critical analyses is contaminated in this way. The piano recording itself was done in sessions of about 8 hours each, and one of the underlying questions to the sessions was, "can this meditation be on material practice rather than on something spiritual?"

So that is Canto V, but my performance tomorrow night is actually focussing on Cantos I-IV. They also try to investigate and deconstruct spirituality. Or to put it more precisely, it's a rejection of spirituality within audio production, and how that also collides with issues of gender within audio production. So some pieces pursue transgendered issues, as well as electronic music production's relation to gender (because it is typically so male dominated). For example, there is one Canto called "Pink Sisters" in which I attempt to identify unmapped or unconsidered locations where these issues of gender, spirituality and electronic music collide - and that quest led me to interview nuns about  their use of electronic audio equipment: microphones, amplifiers, electronic keyboards, etc. But of course, even in their extremely "alternative" and off-radar activities, the nuns are not necessarily "inspiring" or "different." Their aesthetics are clearly inflected with standard music rhetoric of "soul" and spirituality, and that rhetoric actually defines their conservatism. My intention was not only to document the nuns, but to draw parallels between their activities and the activities of most "alternative" and off-radar experimental electronic music producers. For me, the disappointments and problems raised by "experimental" and academic computer music producers are often quite similar to those of the nuns.

What do you mean by a "rejection of spirituality"?

Well, I am coming from a very atheistic and also anti-spiritual and anti-religious position. At the same time, the way I look at atheism is not in this kind of trendy way where it's about, you know, educating people to figure out it's bullshit or whatever. It's more out of a position of hopelessness, where I really do believe atheism can never be a populist movement because people are too stupid.

I believe that, even if we get rid of religious organisations, we are still trapped by spiritual dogma and superstition. And even within the whole rhetoric of western humanism where, even if you step out of the religious realm, you still have a monotheistic notion of the shared human experience that underlies humanity itself.

So, from my stance, atheism is simply a means of resisting and deprogramming amidst a hopeless situation. House music is always classified as being "spiritual", and as a house producer, I'm someone who buys and listens to a lot of music that is produced with those intentions and overtones, and of course the different club scenes themselves use this rhetoric of soul and spirit. But, as atheists, similarly as queers or trans people, we build unintended relationships to dominant media. Vogue is an ideal metaphor for what I am talking about - it's not even a metaphor, it's action! So for me, rather than trying to invent a new language to discuss this, it's more about how has the history of resistance against religion, of resistance against spirituality, etc, how has it manifested itself within the limitations and context of dominant linguistic and audio formats? That goes back to the 29 hour piano piece that takes the idea of meditation as deep thought on something that could be about material process or labour. Getting away from the idea of the authentic, from the idea of doing something new. Getting away form the idea of inventing a new sound or a language that would be ideal, or whatever. Of course, my rejection of authenticity and naming puts me at odds with certain aspects of the vogue scene which is about acknowledgement and branding, but that's also part of the hypocrisy of life.

There must be conflict between your outlook and most house producers?

Sure, and not only house producers; for example, tonight I am djing house music, but tomorrow night is not house music. The Soullessness thing is not house, it's more in the realm of ambient, computer music, so the conflict is with other types of producers as well. So of course there is a lot of resistance, even to the idea that producers should be able to verbalise and think and express what their intentions are. Because how many people, just like in the visual arts, back away and say "I just want the song to speak for itself" or…

"house music is a feeling"

...yeah, and I guess for me "feeling" is also something that is suspect, because we are conditioned to feel our genders are natural, for example, or our sexualities are natural. I think most people these days would identify with that. If you asked if they feel they were born male or female, most people would say one or the other, yes. If you asked people if they felt they were born heterosexual, or born homosexual, most people within those two options, would say yes. So feeling, that house "feeling" is also something that is suspect, when positioned in relation to queer cultures or trans cultures. and that is something I am interested in speaking about generally and creating discourse about.

But again, it's not about the idea that this is a completely new and unheard of discussion in need of a new language, or that what I'm talking about is some sort of surprise. It is more like, "how have these discussions existed historically, and in what ways and forms, through appropriations of dominant cultural languages and other familiar representational processes?" Which is not so dissimilar to how voguing appropriates imagery from dominant western cultures.

How did you come to reject spirituality, personally? Is it a deliberate rejection, a decision you have made?

For me it is a decision, and I think it is better when it can be a decision, as opposed to something that is done with ambivalence, trying to ignore the problem in the hope that it will go away. Being decisive and thinking about organisational strategy is something I am interested in. And I also think it's something a lot of the people with Vogueology, Michael Roberson, Father of the House of Garcon etc, are very interested in the idea of organising. And this is not simply to do with an exercise in analysis, it has to do with communal organising of resistance to dominations. I know it's tragic, but there was a murder of a trans woman in New York last week and Michael is actually in the process of organising the memorial right now, here in Scotland. So there's these really upsetting subtexts to the issue of organising too.

OH YOKO "Seashore (Sprinkles' Ambient Ballroom Mix)"