Margaret Mead ’13: Chimeras

Considering China’s rapid economic expansion, is it any wonder the nation’s contemporary arts scene shares the same global ambitions of its go-go manufacturing sector?  In fact, multi-millionaire artist Wang Guangyi is already an industry unto himself. For his part, Liu Gang has high hopes and heaps of potential.  Documentary filmmaker Mika Mattila follows the two artists and their respective shows over a three year period in Chimeras (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

Wang Guangyi does not have Ai Weiwei’s name recognition outside China, but he sells like Gerhard Richter to his nouveau riche countrymen.  Yet, there are still opportunities for an unknown like Liu Gang to mount his first one-man show in a prestigious gallery space.  It seems the former art student is well on his to joining the elite, until his follow-up show is less enthusiastically received.

Not surprisingly, both artists wrestle with the baggage of China’s recent history and issues of globalization.  Wang Guangyi freely mixes Communist iconography with consumerist imagery for an ambiguously ironic effect.  When it comes to ideology, the senior artist seems deliberately cagey, aside from his explicit rejection of western aesthetic standards.  Frankly, he remembers the Cultural Revolution somewhat fondly, because school was canceled.  Still, it readily admits in retrospect great atrocities were also committed at the time (which to his credit, Mattila forthrightly illustrates with dramatic archival stills).

Young Liu Gang also clearly criticizes commercial impulses in his work, noting with some regret how China’s gallery system is almost entirely based on the Western model. Yet, it is when he proposes a series of work inspired by China’s One Child policy, the once welcoming establishment sort of freaks.

Mattila captures this dichotomy reflected in contemporary Chinese culture and commerce solely through direct observation.  There is a lot of messy reality in the film, as well as some intriguing art.  While ostensibly focused on the two artists and their oeuvre, the ghosts of history haunt the margins of the film in strange and unexpected ways. 

Intelligently assembled by Mattila and his editor Mikko Sippola, Chimeras (not a great title, but so be it) opens a fascinating window into an underreported sector of China.  Recommended for China watchers and those who follow the international art scene, Chimeras screens tomorrow (10/19) as part of this year Margaret Mead Fest at the AMNH.

Margaret Mead ’13: As Time Goes By in Shanghai

Jazz musicians are forward-looking by temperament, constantly anticipating the next gig or recording. For a group of elderly Chinese swing musicians who endured the Cultural Revolution, living in the here-and-now rather than the past is not merely an aesthetic choice, it is a survival strategy. The Peace Old Jazz Band is Guinness-certified as the oldest continually performing band and they will finally have their spotlight moment in Uli Gaulke’s As Time Goes By in Shanghai (trailer here) which screens during the 2013 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

When five out of six band members are nicknamed “Old” (as in “Old Sun” or “Old Li”), it is pretty clear what you’ve got here.  For the last twenty years, they have hit nightly at Shanghai’s Peace Hotel, following in the grand tradition of the big bands of the Swing Era.  Accustomed to playing for dancers, most of the band is not inclined to start experimenting now. They might sound like “moldy figs,” but they have a right to stick to their thing.  After all, the Cultural Revolution was a living nightmare for any musician performing decadent jazz and Western classical music.

When booked to play the North Sea Jazz Festival in Rotterdam, the Peace Old recruits a younger vocalist to perform standards as well as a few jazz renditions of traditional Chinese songs.  Naturally, they shamelessly flirt with Yin “Yasmin” Chen—we would worry about them if they didn’t.  Clearly, this gig will be a career zenith for the band, but they seem to take it in stride.

At first, As Time Goes By seems to be another documentary chronicling the late life triumphs of a group of plucky oldsters.  However, it progressively deepens over time.  The Peace Old musicians are understandably reluctant to talk about their experiences during the Cultural Revolution (after all, it never officially happened), but when Gaulke catches them alone, they start to open up and when they do it is heavy.

Frankly, the Peace Old’s technique is just kind of okay overall, but Holy Cats, do they play with feeling.  While it is difficult for them to talk about their experiences verbally, it all comes out through their instruments.  Gaulke mostly has the good sense to focus on the band and stay out of the way, but his transition shots capture a sense of the less affluent side of go-go Shanghai. The Peace Old can relate to both worlds, but do not quit fit into either.

As Time Goes By is deeply moving, both in musical and personal terms.  It is rare to find a film that speaks so directly to both the gigging life and the residual collective emotional baggage of the Cultural Revolution, but it certainly does.  Gulke’s doc should particularly resonate with working musicians in any major city.  Wonderfully wise and bittersweet, As Time Goes By in Shanghai is very highly recommended.  A highlight of this year’s Margaret Mead Fest, it screens this Saturday (10/19) at the AMNH.

Margaret Mead ’13: This Ain’t No Mouse Music

Chris Strachwitz was born to an aristocratic family in Lower Silesia, but WWII drastically altered his destiny, turning him into the song-hunting heir of Alan Lomax.  News that the advancing Soviet army was summarily executing “capitalists” convinced his family to emigrate west.  Encountering New Orleans Jazz and Delta Blues as an American teen, he subsequently founded Arhoolie Records (named after a form of field holler Lomax recorded) to seek out and preserve the earthy sounds that spoke to him.  Fifty years later, Strachwitz looks back on it all in Chris Simon & Maureen Gosling’s This Ain’t No Mouse Music (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

“Mouse Music” is a vague term Strachwitz uses for the sort of slick, mass produced music he can’t abide. His musician friends cannot really define it either, but they know you don’t want to be it.  Like Lomax, Strachwitz did much of his recording in the field, tracking down many of the real deal Blues, Cajun, Creole, Cajunto, and Appalachian musicians that had slipped through the modern world’s cracks.  The first time out, he hit major pay dirt, “discovering” Mance Lipscomb. Thanks to Arhoolie, artists like Big Joe Williams, post-“Hound Dog” Big Mama Thornton, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Michael Doucet, and Clifton Chenier would find a dedicated national audience.

During his travels, Strachwitz met and collaborated with filmmaker Les Blank (to whom Mouse Music is dedicated) and became a family friend to scores of musicians. Evidently, Strachwitz largely picked up the Bay Area politics surrounding him, but Simon and Gosling mostly steer clear of potentially divisive subjects.  However, they cannot resist including the story of how Strachwitz obtained publishing rights to Country Joe McDonald’s “I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ to Die Rag.”  Evidently, the folk-rocker needed to lay down the future Woodstock ditty quickly and was referred to Strachwitz’ living room-studio by friends.  In lieu of payment, Strachwitz accepted publishing rights, proving former Silesian aristocrats are better businessmen than hippies.

Simon and Gosling keep up with the only slightly manic Strachwitz quite well, conveying a good sense of the man and his label’s roster of artists.  While not everything Arhoolie releases will be to everyone’s tastes, the depth and breadth of it is quite impressive.  Indeed, there is something very Whitman-esque about Strachwitz’s far-ranging pursuit of this roots music.  The doc also provides a nice Blues fix, which is tough to get through mainstream media outlets.  Recommended for fans of unvarnished musical Americana, This Ain’t No Mouse Music screens this Friday (10/18) as part of this year’s Margaret Mead Film Festival at the AMNH.

Margaret Mead Fest ’13: Miss Nikki and the Tiger Girls

What chance does “Girl Power” have in a country where “people power” has yet to take hold? Myanmar’s first girl group will find out.  As the military government slowly and ever so reluctantly releases its hold on the country, the music of Me N Ma Girls might perfectly underscore the changing times.  The growing pains of the girl group and their nation are captured in Juliet Lamont’s Miss Nikki and the Tiger Girls (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

Australian expat Nicole “Nikki” May came to Burma with her oil-and-gas man significant other seeking adventure.  The former dancer’s plan to form a group loosely modeled on the Spice Girls would take on wider cultural significance than she originally realized. It is hard to imagine the climate in which the group now known as Me N Ma Girls was assembled.  Colored wigs were outlawed by the government and the only songs that could be legally performed were adapted western imports.  Essentially, creativity was forbidden.  The mere act of performance was considered closely akin to working in a go-go bar.  Yet, somehow the five young women got the gist of May’s vision.

You might think a country without freedom of speech would not have to worry about scum-sucking agent-producers, but you would be wrong.  His name is Peter Thein and after dropping the fab five for not being “pretty enough” (huh?) he threatened to sue the women if they continued to use the name “Tiger Girls.”  They are so better off without him.

Lamont nicely establishes the personalities of each of the former Tiger Girls: Wai Hnin, Kimmy, Ah Moon, Htike Htike, and Cha Cha.  They include devout Buddhists and Christians, as well as one representative of the northern Chin minority. One even happens to be the daughter of a retired senior officer.  Arguably, they are a microcosm of Burmese society and they become more outspoken in their music following the release of Aung San Suu Kyi.

By documentary standards, MN & TG is practically a movie musical.  Lamont often incorporates music video style interludes that are rather catchy and shrewdly convey the individual struggles of each woman featured.  Indeed, the film starkly defines the very real stakes for the group.  This is not Fame in Myanmar, with five plucky kids following their dreams.  For most of Me N Ma Girls, it is about providing for families on the brink of ruin.

There is a lot of serious drama in MN & TG, but there is also some optimism and a lot of upbeat pop music.  May certainly learns more than she bargained for, but her notion Burma could use the energy and idealism of a group like Me N Ma Girls has been vindicated by time.  It is a fascinating story Lamont documents with unflinching honesty.  To see what the band has since produced, check out the aptly titled “Girl Strong” on youtube or itunes. For a vivid sense of where they came from, seek out Lamont’s Miss Nikki and the Tiger Girls.  Highly recommended, it screens Thursday (10/17) as part of this year’s Margaret Mead Film Festival at the AMNH.