Questions
1) In what ways can we (American artists, historical colonizers) ensure absolute equality in our collaboration with Cuban artists? How do we tackle such a historically imbalanced relationship with responsibility and critical self-awareness?
2) How do we organize through daily routine/mindset towards such radical hope? What are the immediate actions we can take?
3) How do we artists develop civic independency? Does art discharge a civic responsibility? How do we make them intersect?
Reflection
The frightening shit about history is the uncanny resemblance between the past and the present whose oppressive circumstances we still grapple with. Yeah we criticize the oligarchy of Trump's government, but what about the Founding Fathers? Yeah we mourn over the disappearing middle class, but what about the class hatred at the eve of WWI?
To digest history this way is to lose hope in humanity's capacity for progress. Junot Diaz, better than anyone, is aware of the continuing atrocities of the human race. He locates his body with sharp precision on a vast map of colonial history. He knows his blackness has context. Yet, his intimate knowledge of history emboldens his faith in all of us. His gaze of history is focused on the survivors. The oppressed who stand tall with dignity, who against all odds have persevered and prospered. When one stands on the side of the minorities that history blatantly marginalizes, you hear the story of their unimaginable resilience. And this view of history is not only accurate but empowering.
I've never met an artist who can contextualize his being so vastly. transcending time, location, history. To hear his words is to escape Plato's cave. It's not an enlightenment out of thin air, but simply turning our heads the opposite way to walk towards the light of progress with radical hope.
Observations
- Junot Diaz rarely discusses his work.
- Junot Diaz rarely discusses his personal life, individualized details.
- When asked a seemingly personal question, he takes the magnifying glass all the way to focus on the negative space (to borrow Eveyln's metaphor) that shapes his answer.
1) In what ways can we (American artists, historical colonizers) ensure absolute equality in our collaboration with Cuban artists? How do we tackle such a historically imbalanced relationship with responsibility and critical self-awareness?
2) How do we organize through daily routine/mindset towards such radical hope? What are the immediate actions we can take?
3) How do we artists develop civic independency? Does art discharge a civic responsibility? How do we make them intersect?
Reflection
The frightening shit about history is the uncanny resemblance between the past and the present whose oppressive circumstances we still grapple with. Yeah we criticize the oligarchy of Trump's government, but what about the Founding Fathers? Yeah we mourn over the disappearing middle class, but what about the class hatred at the eve of WWI?
To digest history this way is to lose hope in humanity's capacity for progress. Junot Diaz, better than anyone, is aware of the continuing atrocities of the human race. He locates his body with sharp precision on a vast map of colonial history. He knows his blackness has context. Yet, his intimate knowledge of history emboldens his faith in all of us. His gaze of history is focused on the survivors. The oppressed who stand tall with dignity, who against all odds have persevered and prospered. When one stands on the side of the minorities that history blatantly marginalizes, you hear the story of their unimaginable resilience. And this view of history is not only accurate but empowering.
I've never met an artist who can contextualize his being so vastly. transcending time, location, history. To hear his words is to escape Plato's cave. It's not an enlightenment out of thin air, but simply turning our heads the opposite way to walk towards the light of progress with radical hope.
Observations
- Junot Diaz rarely discusses his work.
- Junot Diaz rarely discusses his personal life, individualized details.
- When asked a seemingly personal question, he takes the magnifying glass all the way to focus on the negative space (to borrow Eveyln's metaphor) that shapes his answer.
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