Winter in America: The Speakeasy; Bold, Black & Brilliant — The Baldwin Edition
Joyce Gordon Gallery
406 14th St.
Oakland
April 3, 2024
When I think of James Baldwin, the images that surface in my mind are often in black and white. Photographs, video clips, and even his words on the page appear stark and matter-of-fact. Walking into the Joyce Gordon Gallery and seeing over 40 faces and expressions of Baldwin, my connotation of him was elevated.
The traveling exhibition, “Frontline Prophet: James Baldwin,” features works from Detroit artist Sabrina Nelson. Pop art-style portraits of Baldwin covered the walls, infused with hues of bright red, cobalt blue, greens, and golds. Seeing Baldwin’s face in modern styles brought him out of the past and into the now in a refreshing way.
After taking in the feelings of pride the portraits impressed upon me, my senses shifted and I quickly attempted to eavesdrop. Nelson was wrapping up tales of her travels to a small group huddled around her in the back of the gallery as she showed off photos of herself and writer/activist Nikki Giovanni.
Our MC for the evening was the first and only-thus-far poet laureate of Oakland, Dr. Ayodele Nzinga. She wore a red head wrap and bright yellow and red traditional African garb, and an air of grandiosity.
“Laureates like to travel with laureates” she said as she introduced the tall and sensitive first poet, Tongo Eisen Martin, San Francisco’s 8th poet laureate. Eisen Martin rapped his poetry fast and hard like his mouth was a megaphone and he had been spitting on street corners since childhood. His skillful wordsmithing was dense and intense, but he made no reference to Baldwin.
The poet who I thought most embodied the spirit of Baldwin was Akron-originating Darius Simpson, whom Dr. Nzinga described as a “future laureate.” While Eisen Martin’s poetry had conveyed his inner experience of harmful politics within the Bay, Simpson’s poetry made me want to take action about it. He quoted Amiri Baraka and posed powerful notions like, “What if I hate America, but don’t know no other homeland?” and “My comrades remind me there are fires to start.” His poems were deep, clear, and strong, like a firm hand reaching in and shaking my resting soul awake. (Click above to watch him perform.)
Even so, Dr. Nzinga could not be ignored. A Baldwin on the wall stared amusedly at her as she spoke.
“I invite Baldwin into this space to sit with us,” she said, summoning his spirit into the room. Her poem came in the form of a letter to “Jimmy.” There was authority in her voice, mastery in the way she would startle with an exclamation and then dip down to a softer tone, then rise up again as if on a pedestal.
Time, history, and truth get high together
they actually the same characters in a country song
they just keep changing their name
She took us on a journey of metaphor and clever personification and came to a close with “Yo Jimmy, write back if you can.” She stunned the audience with her dynamic performance.
There was a nice flow to the evening, and after a short break it ended in a panel discussion with Black femme powerhouses. Organizer Cat Brooks, cultural strategist Ashara S. Ekundayo, artist Sabrina Nelson, and poet Tonya Foster shared rich narratives around their first interactions with Baldwin.
Nelson told us a friend had asked her to come along on a trip to Paris. The friend was giving a talk and wanted her to paint during the talk. About the trip, she said, “I felt James Baldwin’s spirit touch me there. Twice.” In a perfect summary of the evening’s exhibition she stated, “I feel like he picked me. There. That’s how this happened.”
Selected works from Sabrina Nelson’s Baldwin series can be viewed on her website.
