Of Pistols and Prayers

Of Pistols and Prayers
by Ise Lyfe



Watching this young man on stage took me back to my undergraduate days at San Francisco State College, 1965, when the drama department produced my first play Flowers for the Trashman.

In Ise Lyfe, I saw myself as a young man in the theatre after the drama department production, when I dropped out of college to establish my own theatre in the Fillmore District, Black Arts West Theatre, along with playwright Ed Bullins and others.

Watching Ise do his thing on stage, producing, directing, writing and acting, along with his crew of mostly young people, was indeed a pleasure. It is a pleasure to see youth doing anything positive, but especially being creative rather than destructive, trying to spread consciousness to his generation in dire need of such.

It is for this reason that I don’t want to be too critical on the brother, although I do have a few constructive remarks that may help him in the future. Firstly, I saw no need for him to come on and exit the stage in almost rapid succession. Stay yo ass on stage and present your message, even scene changes can be done on stage: let us see you transform or change persona on stage. The very process is part of the drama. Further, we don’t need to hear your voice off stage. Say what you got to say on stage, up front and personal. In our face. And not too much video. Again, we want to see you, not a video message, no matter it is a mixed media production. We didn’t come to look at a screen but to see you. You are the reason for the season.

The music was nice and worked in harmony with Ise, sometimes in perfect harmony. It was especially nice to see my favorite musician on stage, Destiny Muhammad, harpist from the hood. The long segment with the DJ was, for me, totally unnecessary and could be deleted. The central focus is Ise, nobody else. After all, this is a one man show. We don't need to hear nothing from the DJ.

For sure, Ise has the potential to be a great actor. We see he can transform into a myriad personas. And the poetry is good conscious hip hop. We can only suggest, and this goes for hip hop spoken word in general, discover the director, other than oneself, for the director can see what the actor can’t. He can tell the actor things he never imagined, no matter how talented. The actor can often suffer a kind of blindness, perhaps caused by ego, so don’t be too arrogant not to employ a director. In my case, I would at least utilize an associate director, although they would do so reluctantly, declaring, “Marvin, you ain’t gonna let me direct, you know that!” Still, I would at least call upon them for advice.

And we say to Ise Lyfe, welcome to the world of black theatre. It’s your turn, go for it! We encourage youth and adults to catch this production of a young man trying to do the right thing, i.e., being creative and attempting to spread consciousness. To escape this morass, we may indeed need a pistol and a prayer. A white man suggested the three Gs: guns, gold and getaway plan.
--Marvin X
Marvin X is one of the founders of the Black Arts Movement.

The Sisyphus Syndrome

The Sisyphus Syndrome




A jazz Opera by Amiri Baraka
Music by David Murray
Choreography Traci Bartlow
Eastside Cultural Center

Review by Marvin X


Sisyphus is the Greek god condemned to roll the rock up the hill for eternity. Each time he ascended, he was blocked by the forces of evil and the rock fell to the ground. DuBois and others have used the Sisyphus myth-ritual to describe the history of North American Africans. Each generation that makes progress on the path to freedom is blocked by the forces of reaction and the next generation must reinvent the wheel of justice, freedom and self-determination. Amiri Baraka’s Opera takes us up the mountain and down in the manner of Sisyphus. He shows us the trials and tribulations of a people striving for dignity, only to be obstructed by evil, call it racism, imperialism, capitalism, slavery, whatever.

Baraka has always been our myth-maker, from the Dead Lecturer (poems),
Dutchman (play), A Black Mass (play) and Slaveship (play), not to mention numerous other works attacking, revising and transcending Western mythology to tell the story of our existence in this wilderness. The Sisyphus Syndrome is his most recent attempt to lecture us in the didactic manner of BAM (the Black Arts Movement). Sonia Sanchez asked, “Will Your book free us?” Baraka answers emphatically, “Yes.” He proceeds to describe the problem through the dramatic form called Opera, a utilization of voice, song, music, dance, set design, video and sound. Of course BAM drama is ritual theatre, the merging of actors and audience, thus it is communal—there is no audience but rather a community of people gathered to learn, to heal and transform. Baraka is the shaman who gathers his tribe around the village fire, yes, Round Midnight, to envision a new day. What happened, what should happen and what will happen if we finally get it right, if we understand events, symbols and signs, the blocks along the mountain path to freedom, the joys, the celebrations of victories, then defeat, depression, more oppression, but finally, in the transformation and ascension to the mountain top Dr. King preached about the night before his assassination, April 4, 1968. Baraka catalogues the history endured and victories celebrated. Sisyphus is thus a lesson from the wise elder, the healer, for finally, Baraka’s myth is about healing and love, unity and love. He gives a shout out to Muslims, Christians, Socialists, Communists, and vegetarians to unite in a Black United Front. The chorus tells us this, the poetry as well, sometimes recited by the poet himself.

His book of poetry is classic Baraka, abstract at times, plain and simple other times, but it is poetry that is didactic and lyrical. He thus returns theatre to the Shakespearean tradition of the poetic drama. But he transcends Shakespeare, with the elements of ritual, the energy of the Holy Ghost church. While the words instruct and inform, the dance and music take us to the deep down funk of our lives. Baraka would call it Funklore. In one tune we hear that funky Al Green beat. And there is a rendition of my favorite tune Round Midnight signaling a low moment in our history, maybe the betrayal of Reconstruction, the lynching, torture and terror of American genocide.

In the BAM tradition, David Murray weaves his music as a weapon of freedom, literally using his horn as a device to check the devil, the forces of evil. David does a dance with Skelekin. We see the role of musician as shaman, protector of the tribe. We see the people’s army marching and dancing to music. The music once again propels us up the mountain, sometimes it is a gentle nudge, sometimes a shout, a scream, a moan, but in tandem with the choreography of Traci Bartlow, the music is for war, just as her movements are forward motion, the principle activity in the Sisyphusian myth-ritual, as interpreted by Baraka. Traci employs modern, African, jazz and hip hop movements to tell the myth. She is outstanding as choreographer, dancer and assistant director. Rashidi Byrd was excellent with his hip hop movements.

And there is love, for there shall be no revolution without love. Baraka reminds us of love and unity throughout, and the dancers exemplify by embracing each other and the audience or tribe, weaving in and out of the audience to make it feel, touch, taste and hear the Motion of History, a Baraka title.

The video symbols are apt since we are in the video Age, but because the images are a powerful montage of history and current reality, we are forced to learn from them, for they enter our consciousness along with the other dramatic elements to break the rock of ignorance. No one can sit in the audience and participate in this drama without a raising of consciousness, without desiring a further course in black studies, the history of imperialism and its counterpoint, revolution.

We applaud the acting of President L. Davis as Sisyphus. He is on the way to an acting career. His voice alone should take him there. Do we not hear a James Earl Jones in the making? His nemesis, Skelekin, Amil Islam, is another powerful young actor we expect
to be transformed by his role as Block Man. We suspect all the actors will be transformed by this production, artistically and spiritually, even the young actors from the Youth Guerilla Theatre, who completed the intergenerational aspect of the myth-ritual drama.

We thank the producers, Eastside Arts, for making this production possible. It is a much needed continuation of the Black Arts Movement. And as we exit the theatre, exhausted but joyful at the conclusion, we must suggest a reading of How To Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy, for we cannot leave the theatre to do nothing, rather the Opera’s intent is to get us involved in the dance of unity and radical consciousness. How to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy is the antidote to problems presented in Sisyphus Syndrome: detoxify, recover and discover your role in the cultural revolution. We encourage you to attend our Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to recover from the addiction to white supremacy.

Dewey Redman and the Black Arts West Theatre

We fondly remember Dewey Redman at the Black Arts West Theatre playwright Ed Bullins and I founded at Turk and Fillmore, San Francisco, 1966, along with Ethna Wyatt, Karl Bossiere, Duncan Barber and Hillery Broadous. Into our theatre came a plethora of jazz musicians to accompany our plays, including Dewey Redman, Monte Waters, Donald Rafael Garrett, Earl Davis, BJ, Paul Smith, et al. They took authority of the music department by telling us to go ahead and do our thing, they would accompany us by coming on stage and accenting our words, or going out into the audience or even out the door to address the Fillmore Street crowds, including the bumper to bumper cars passing along Fillmore.

Dewey and bassist Donald Garrett were probably the most free in teaching us what would become known as Ritual Theatre, that smashing of the wall between stage and audience, merging them into the oneness so well known in the Christian ritual. The difference between the church ritual and the Black Arts ritual was that we came to smash tradition, not enforce it. Of course, we must know tradition before we can smash it. So Dewey, Donald and the rest taught us tradition then how to transcend it.

They forced us to abandon our concept of European theatre, dragging us, sometimes screaming and hollering, back and forward to our African dramatic tradition, freeing us once and forever.

Of course, the ultimate transformer of our dramatic consciousness was Sun Ra, the Grand Master of African theatre. Sun Ra taught the necessity of African mythology as the basis of ritual expression, and with his Arkestra demostrated the unity of music, dance, poetry and mixed media.
--Marvin X
Black Arts West Theatre, 2011

Marvin X's forthcoming drama is Mythology of Love, a womanhood/manhood poetic rites of passage, featuring Ptah Mitchell as Eternal Man and Aries Jordan as Eternal Woman.



Dewey Redman, A Biography



Dewey Redman (born Walter Dewey Redman in Fort Worth, Texas, May 17, 1931; d. Brooklyn, New York September 2, 2006) was an American jazz saxophonist, known for performing free jazz as a bandleader, and with Ornette Coleman and Keith Jarrett.

Redman played mainly tenor saxophone, though he occasionally doubled on alto saxophone, played the Chinese suona (which he called a musette) and on rare occasions played the clarinet.

His son is saxophonist Joshua Redman.

After high school, Redman briefly enrolled in the electrical engineering program at the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, but became disillusioned with the program and returned home to Texas. In 1953, Redman earned a Bachelors Degree in Industrial Arts from Prairie View Agricultural and Mechanical University. While at Prairie View, he switched from clarinet to alto saxophone, then, eventually, to tenor. Following his bachelor's degree, Redman served two-years in the US Army.

Upon his discharge from the Army, Redman began working on a master’s degree in education at the University of North Texas. While working on his degree, he taught music to fifth graders in Bastrop, Texas, and worked as a freelance saxophonist on nights and weekends around Austin, Texas. In 1957, Redman earned a Masters Degree in Education with a minor in Industrial Arts from the University of North Texas. While at North Texas, he did not enroll in any music classes.

Towards the end of 1959, Redman moved to San Francisco, a musical choice resulting in an early collaboration with Donald Rafael Garrett.

Redman was best known for his collaborations with saxophonist Ornette Coleman, with whom he performed in his Fort Worth high school marching band. He later performed with Coleman from 1968 to 1972, appearing on the recording New York Is Now, among others. He also played in pianist Keith Jarrett's American Quartet (1971-1976), and was a member of the collective Old And New Dreams. The American Quartet's The Survivor's Suite was voted Jazz Album of the Year by Melody Maker in 1978.

He also performed and recorded as an accompanying musician with jazz musicians who performed in varying styles within the post-1950s jazz idiom, including bassist and fellow Coleman-alum Charlie Haden and guitarist Pat Metheny.

With a dozen recordings under his own name Redman established himself as one of the more prolific tenor players of his generation. Though generally associated with free jazz (with an unusual, distinctive technique of sometimes humming into his saxophone as he played), Redman's melodic tenor playing was often reminiscent of the blues and post-bop mainstream. Redman's live shows were as likely to feature standards and ballads as the more atonal improvisations for which he was known.

Redman was the subject of an award-winning documentary film Dewey Time (dir. Daniel Berman, 2001).

On February 19 and 21, 2004, Redman played tenor saxophone as a special guest with Jazz at Lincoln Center, in a concert entitled "The Music of Ornette Coleman."
Redman died of liver failure in Brooklyn, New York on September 2, 2006. He is survived by his wife, Lidija Pedevska-Redman, as well as sons Tarik, and Joshua Redman also a jazz saxophonist. The father and son recorded two albums together.