NOTES ON THE RESIDENCY 

Social constructs not only impact the art that is made, but they directly influence how art is presented and for whom it is preserved. The Met curatorial and Live Arts staff is a conscious group of individuals who understand how creative voices can influence one another when put in close proximity, so to be given space to consider the art and history of The Met, and the opportunity to more deeply explore what The Met represents and communicates to the world, to New York, and to me personally, has been a great privilege. —Julia Bullock
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HISTORY REFUSED TO DIE
​& HISTORY'S PERSISTENT VOICE

HARLEM & HUGHES 
​ON MY MIND

HARLEM & HUGHES ON MY MIND

“Why do we have to care about minorities––I mean, of course, we care, but at an art museum?" 
– Thomas Hoving (director of the Met from 1967-1977) quoting a Met Trustee in the late 1960s 

​[It must be noted that Hoving’s reports on his time as the Met’s director were often incendiary, intentionally provocative, and have even been discredited in some circles.]
​
It was overwhelming to walk through gallery after gallery of the Met Museum, thinking about the almost endless program possibilities that could be presented. So I asked Limor Tomer, the General Manager of MetLiveArts, what she was hoping to accomplish with a performance artist residency in a space dedicated to visual art.  “I’m aiming to remove the threshold of entry to the museum.” Hearing that, I began to research the history of the Met, looking to find what “thresholds” had–either intentionally or not–encouraged or discouraged people from wanting to visit a collection that was presumably open to all of us, as an encyclopedic visual representation of world culture. 

​“Harlem On My Mind” – this title was first made popular in New York City with a release of the 1933 song by Irving Berlin (1888 – 1989). It was written for the Vaudeville and Broadway singer, actor, dancer Ethel Watters (1896 – 1977), as a parody of her cross-Atlantic competitor, Joséphine Baker (1906 – 1975).  

[Verse]
Em'ralds in my bracelets and diamonds in my rings
A Riviera chateau and a lot of other things
And I'm blue, so blue am I
Lots of ready money in seven diff'rent banks
I counted up this morning, it's about a million francs
And I'm blue, so blue, and I know why

[Refrain]
I've got Harlem on my mind
I've a longing to be lowdown
And my "parlez-vous" will not ring true
With Harlem on my mind
I've been wined and I've been dined
But I'm heading for a showdown
'Cause I can't go on from night to dawn
With Harlem on my mind...

The second time this title was popularized was in a 1969 Met Museum exhibition. Thomas Hoving (1931 – 2009), the then director of the Met, wanted to make a big impact during his first year; he wanted to bring more people into the museum, and one way to do that was to appeal to audiences that otherwise may not have been inclined to attend, or even been excluded from attending. 

Hoving quoted a Met Museum trustee: “Why do we have to care about minorities––I mean, of course, we care, but at an art museum?" 

Hoving’s reports on his time at the Met were incendiary, intentionally provocative, and have even been discredited in some circles, but given what has been documented about the Met, and given their track record in regards to who has been given leadership positions, it’s clear there were dismissals and strict limitations of minorities–including women–on their board, in their staff, and in selection committees; so the sentiment of this question posed by a trustee (a woman) in the late 1960s, does not surprise me in the slightest. 

The question–besides being shocking–is fascinating and revealing, because the history of the Met indicates that as an arts institution, they have always had an interest in the diversity of art that was made, but not necessarily in the diversity of people who made it. 

When I look at photos and have read descriptions of the exhibition, Harlem on My Mind: Cultural Capital of Black America, 1900-1968, it reminds me of my experience walking through the top floor Culture Galleries of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, D.C.– an immersive mixed media experience, with recordings of music, interviews, projections, and floor to ceiling pictures of people, places, and their transformations over the years.  In this respect, this 1969 exhibition seemed ahead of its time.  

But it was a controversial show and was met with severe criticism from cultural to social arenas. The press objected, because photographs were not widely considered “art” at that time, they were intended to document events; and it was argued that the exhibition itself was not about art or even Harlem, but a show about exhibition techniques. Backlash was expressed from the Jewish community, because the exhibition catalogue–that later was discovered to be wrongly sited–printed a quote with anti-Semitic overtones by a 17 year old Harlem student. Heated, prolonged protests were enacted by members of the black community, which lasted from before the opening through the closing of the exhibit, because there was no other visual art (paintings and sculptures) by Black Americans in the exhibition. The Black Panthers, however, according to Hoving in his book about his time at the Met, Making the Mummies Dance: Inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art, found the show to be very positive: “...the late arrival of the minister of information of the Black Panther Party who, alone and unaware of the museum gossip and ideological arguments, wandered through the galleries and emerged to say ‘This is brilliant, and I’m going to write it up as such.”

The curator, Allon Schoener (b. 1926), was hoping to create “a communications environment.’ I described it as a place in which visual and aural media were utilized to convey messages.”  Unfortunately, because there was not a representation of other forms of visual art, either incorporated into the exhibit, or presented as a separate one that could have been shown simultaneously in a different gallery space, the messages received did not sit well. Whether a failure or a success, tens of thousands of visitors crossed the threshold of the Met in order to visit this exhibition, and because of the social controversy, conversations began in art museums in America about when and where Black American artists needed to be represented.

It’s interesting that only now, almost 50 years later, has the Met presented a large exhibition of multiple black artists in History Refused To Die: Highlights from the Souls Grown Deep Foundation (May-September 2018). In my efforts to honor the intentions of the Met, and also to honor what has been realized in actuality, I decided to program a day of music and poetry that celebrates Harlem during its Renaissance. 

The Harlem Renaissance was something extraordinary. With Black Americans coming to New York in order to escape the torments of Jim Crow, an influx of creative spirits congregated. The amount of cultural influence that emanated from 125th St and surrounding blocks had yet to be experienced in America, and today we still feel how the cultural pulse of the Harlem Renaissance inspired and developed all mediums of visual and performance art. 

The notated material in music and in literature are what inspire me the most, because up until that point, so few black voices recorded and documented their own experiences; it was often through the lens of a white person's perception.  Countless artists were celebrated across the globe during this 1920-30s period; so why have I decided to focus on Langston Hughes? Well, composers in all disciplines of music have been widely drawn to set his words.

To make words sing is a wonderful thing--/Because in a song/Words last so long.
– Langston Hughes (1902 – 1967)

Poet-Laureate Langston Hughes wanted to also be a songwriter; so whether working on poetry, prose, or a libretto for an opera with Kurt Weill, his lyrical voice seemed to guide his writing.  From an early age he knew he wanted to write, and he seemed to view his art in the context of social consciousness, by taking on the responsibility to share the Harlem Renaissance experience–the Black American experience–with the rest of the world. 

My seeking has been to explain and illuminate the Negro condition in America
and obliquely that of all human kind.
​– Langston Hughes 

I was surprised to find that a majority of the songs to which I was most drawn that were composed for the classically trained voice, were written by white men.  One reason–that makes perfect sense–is that most composers given chances to study classical composition techniques are from one very small affinity group: white men. But it also occurred to me that because Hughes aimed to be “the people’s poet” who sought to re-educate both audience and artist, presumably if a person was sensitive enough, he/she could find a way to tap into Hughes’ writing and illuminate it through music. 

Although, much of Hughes’ work was culturally focused, many of the readings and musical settings on this program have to do with the celebrations, perceptions, losses, struggles, and wonder of the human experience, and in particular–the unique New York experience.

I guess I’m what I feel and see and hear . . . Hear me.
– Langston Hughes 
​

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METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART  |  A DREAM DEFERRED: LANGSTON HUGHES IN SONG
JULIA BULLOCK ARTIST IN RESIDENCE MetLiveArts 2018-19 SEASON
​
Langston Hughes's poems such as "Harlem," "Genius Child," and "Song for a Dark Girl" are set to music in this recital curated and performed by Julia Bullock, who is joined by soprano Nicole Cabell ("sheer sumptuous gorgeousness," The Mercury News), New York Philharmonic Principal Clarinetist Anthony McGill ("trademark brilliance, penetrating sound and rich character," The New York Times), composer and violinist Jessie Montgomery, the Young People's Chorus of New York City, as well as pianist/composers Ricky Ian Gordon and John Musto, and music by composer Chad Cannon. 

Julia Bullock (soprano), Nicole Cabell (soprano)
Anthony McGill (clarinetist)
Jessie Montgomery (composer/violinist)
Ricky Ian Gordan, John Musto (composer/pianist)
​John Arida (pianist)
​The Young People's Chorus of New York City 

DECEMBER 2, 2018 at 3PM
MET MUSEUM (New York, NY)

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