Marcus Strickland Twi-Life – Amygdala (feat. “Mad Linez”)
AMYGDALA is an intimate single take capture of dancer Madaline “Mad Linez” Riley conceived in a classic, cinematographic black and white style. Highlighting a purity of expression, Mad Linez speaks in the languages of hyper-expressivity, mutation, animation and tutting, among others, through an improvised close-up performance. A poetics of the human experience embodied, the film takes the viewer on a journey of unfiltered emotion.
Dance Performance by Madaline “Mad Linez” Riley Directed and Produced by Petra Richterová Cinematography by Petra Richterová Edited by Roberto García Matus
Album: The Universe’s Wildest Dream (Strick Muzik, 2023)
A film by Petra Richterová ©2022 Roc Nomadia Productions. All rights reserved.
Written and performed by Marcus Strickland, Strick Music (BMI) Marcus Strickland – tenor saxophone, bass clarinet, composer, producer Charles Haynes – drums, producer Mitch Henry – keys, organ Kyle Miles – bass
Iman Omari and Cavalier — Are You Hearing Me? (feat. The Ghost)
ARE YOU HEARING ME? is inspired by tenebrist aesthetics of 17th-century European painting where dramatically illuminated subjects emerge out of dark space. The film evokes a sense of the mystical and paranormal in a Hip Hop context. Converting life’s existential quandaries into sensual performance, Bruk Up dancer Albert “The Ghost” Esquilin becomes visual music, meticulously precise and full of emotion. Through the geometry of The Ghost’s improvisatory dance style inspired by the irregular patterns of vapor and smoke, we are taken into the realm of the spiritual.
Directed by Petra Richterová and Albert "The Ghost" Esquilin Produced by Petra Richterová and Albert "The Ghost" Esquilin Cinematography by Petra Richterová Edited by Roberto García Matus Choreography / Freeform Possession by Albert “The Ghost” Esquilin
A film by Petra Richterová & Albert “The Ghost” Esquilin ©2021 Roc Nomadia Productions. All Rights Reserved.
“Are You Hearing Me?” Performed by Iman Omari and Cavalier Written by Iman Omari and Cavalier Courtesy of Vibe Music Collective
Seeing West Africa
CLOCK OF THE EARTH is the title of a forthcoming book in collaboration with photographer Frank Stewart and Africanist scholar/poet George Nelson Preston.
The project contemplates narratives of daily and spiritual life in west Africa via analog black and white photography and the art of poetry. The images were created between 1997–2005 in Ghana, Burkina Faso, Mali, Niger and Senegal.
Clock of the Earth
When electricity was only lightning, when the banjo was only a stick and a broken gourd lying upside down in the bush the talking drum spoke when creator had made only the spirit of the drumwood tree, when the creator had made only the herald the talking drums were speaking and the drums said
kyere asase yaa kyere bosompo yen suro bibiaa koraa!
Except our Mother Earth, Except for the Spirit of the Waters there is nothing we fear!
Owkan twa esuo, esuo twa ‘okwan, opanyin na hene? Opanyin na hene?
The path crosses the stream, the stream crosses the path, which is the eldest? Who is the chieftain?
Odomankoma bo suo Onipa bo ‘kwan…
It was the Creator who [first] made the stream [and then] we humans cut the path the meet the stream…
— George Nelson Preston
From Agadiz to Tessalit Once Were We
The Imazighen ‘proud and free.’ No gold from the south, no salt of the erg, no cloth or guns or kettles from beyond went its way untinted by the blue of our hands before it solved the lust of Timbuktu or Gao.
And so our tolls increased the value of many things. What happened to all this bounty, our slaves and camels taken? Was it lost on concubines and false silk?
Now look at us. Our women work in cities. Our men sell things we fashion of leather and silver in Bamako, Niamey and Ouagadougou or sweep the sand off tarmac streets.
From Tangut to Aghadist to Timbuktu to Aire there was a time no gold of the south or salt of the north passed this way before given the greater value by our tolls.
Now look at us. The Blacks who once were our icklan tell us when to strike our tent poles and call us wakawaka. What does that mean? What of our fierce pride? Look into our eyes. No, don’t tell us we cannot wander from here to there.
And so we heard the Germans make a car and name it Tuareg. This gives no comfort to us who once touched all that passed this way.
Once were we the Imazighen, proud and free.
— George Nelson Preston
CUBA Y SU TUMBAO is a portfolio of analog black and white as well as digital photographs taken in Cuba between 2001—2015.
I lived in Havana for three full years and created a wide range of images reflecting everyday life, but my ongoing work in dance and music research dominate. In fact, I wrote a doctoral thesis on AfroCuban dance titled Rumba: A Philosophy of Motion (Yale University, 2010), which reflects my focus on AfroCuban performance culture in the context of the African diaspora.
A book is in the making exploring the iconography of Cuban rumba – a unique AfroCuban dance and music complex that represents the foundation of contemporary Cuban popular culture – and argues that rumba constitutes an essential part of a greater African-based ontology.
I conceptualize rumba dance performance as knowledge embodied, an avatar of non-verbal cultural communication and consciousness, which plays a central role in the organization of daily life and formation of identity. Moreover, Rumba: A Philosophy of Motion demonstrates that concrete continuities exist between the diaspora and mainland Africa through close scrutiny of rumba and parallel performance art traditions in north, west and central Africa. The project also attempts to identify specific African-based stylistic conventions as exemplified by Sahara’s Imazighen (also known as Berber) peoples, Mali’s Mande (known as Gangá in Cuba) and related groups, and the Kongo civilization establishing that although ethno-cultural boundaries exist, they tend to be permeable. By contextualizing Cuba’s complex cultural landscape, an art history of rumba demonstrates the central role of performance in the transmission and preservation of culture, and the drive for self-healing in the face of shattering interruption and forced migration.
The heart of man’s most fundamental questions of life, although AfroCuban culture cannot be separated from anti-colonial consciousness, it is the journey of existential and spiritual self-deliberation that lies at the heart of this inquiry.
“Cada persona siente rumba a su manera.” “Each person feels rumba their own way.”
— Bárbaro Ramos Aldazábal, principal dancer, Los Muñequitos de Matanzas
Innovation in African American Dance
ILLUSIONS OF THE BODY captures New York’s street dance cultures with a focus on styles that have contributed to the most cutting-edge breakthroughs in Hip Hop-related vernacular over the past twenty years. This includes Dancehall, Bruk Up, Flexn (who are all connected) and Krump, among other genres.
To illustrate, Bruk Up is the avant-garde offspring of Jamaican Dancehall and New York Popping that emerged out of Brooklyn in the mid 1990s. New York Bruk Up draws on the innovations of Jamaican dancer and contortionist George Adams, aka “Bruk Up” (“broken” in Jamaican patois), who moved to Brooklyn from Kingston in the mid 1990s. As a child, he suffered from osteomyelitis that left him crippled until his teens, contributing to the creation of an extreme, distorted body language that became Bruk Up vocabulary. Bruk Up consists of a basic structure that includes the shoulder pop, framing, pivoting, locking and waving.
Each fundamental acts as a visual representation of the sound. The shoulder pop is the base, the frames accent the beat, and pivoting helps give identity to the body’s flow of motion by having the feet compliment the body pattern. Waving matches the emotion of the song, so flow styles express feeling. Performing these in combination creates visual effects that can be overlaid with character enactment.
Until identity is added – the disembodied smoothness of a ghost or the laziness of a zombie – all Bruk Up performance is considered freeform. As veteran Bruk Up dancer Albert Esquilin, aka “The Ghost,” said: “It is about letting the music possess you and becoming a living, moving story.” A self-referential, fully developed international dance community with roots in the Caribbean and the African continent, there is a dance revolution happening in the streets of New York City that will continue impacting the world in the years to come. Brilliant innovators and elite dancers like Saalim “Storyboard P” Muslim, Tyrell “Rocka” Jamez or Albert “The Ghost” Esquilin and represent the unsung leadership of cutting-edge, contemporary Black culture in the United States. The effort to document and promote street dance speaks to an absent formal infrastructure that might otherwise maintain and advance the art form.
For more information, see: Black Dance Matters by Petra Richterová
“Krump to me is expressing your praise for existence in the most prideful energy. Accepting the pain, the sorrow, and the joyful moods of how we expose ourselves to the dance.
We are The Underground, and everything that comes with that made us who we are!”
— Rocka on Krump
Marcus Strickland — On My Mind (feat. Bilal, Pharoahe Monch & Greg Tate)
ON MY MIND is an abstract, Afro-cosmic film, aesthetically and symbolically grounded in African culture and New York history. Based on vanguard saxophonist and composer Marcus Strickland’s latest track "On My Mind remix," urbanscapes and spiritual objects bring these artists into a rare, contemporary dialogue, reflecting the song’s timeless contemplation and resounding with mystical reverberation. Featuring Marcus Strickland, Bilal, Pharoahe Monch, Greg Tate, Ben Williams, EJ Strickland and Storyboard P.
Directed by Petra Richterová and Jennifer Galvin Produced by Petra Richterová and Sarah Escarraz Cinematography by Petra Richterová Edited by Roberto García Matus
A film by Petra Richterová & Jennifer Galvin ©2020 reelblue, LLC. All Rights Reserved.
“On My Mind (feat. Bilal, Pharoahe Monch & Greg Tate) [Remix]” Performed by Marcus Strickland Written by Marcus Strickland, Bilal & Pharoahe Monch Courtesy of Capitol Records under license from Universal Music Enterprises
Press: Love Transcends All in Marcus Strickland’s “On My Mind” Short Film
Morocco’s Gnawa Sonic Healers
RAINBOW OF TRANCE captures the daily life and healing rites of Morocco’s Gnawa peoples as well as random sites around the culture. The images were created using black and white analog and digital photography between 2011–2014. I was first invited to Morocco to document the home coming of New York-based Gnawa musician Hassan Hakmoun. Through Hassan, I was introduced to life in Marrakech, to friends in cities around the country as well as important Gnawa Maalams (knower/master), including Mustapha Bakbou of Marrakech, Mahmoud Guinea of Essaouira and Abdelkadr Amlil of Rabat.
Born of a west African population who were trafficked north during the trans-Saharan trade of the Middle Ages, Morocco’s Gnawa have created multidisciplinary mystical ensembles whose haunting ceremonies transform anyone present through sound, scent and color. Gnawa designates an ethnic/cultural grouping, and a Sufi-based spiritual order as well as musical genre. Gnawa performance focuses on healing and self-exploration through a system of music and dance based on the intrinsic energy of specific colors – white, black, blue, purple, red, green and yellow. These seven colors manifest in different aspects of nature and are also connected with specific kinds of incense, an intrinsic element of Gnawa healing nights. Another important aspect of Gnawa spirituality is trance, the essence of healing in their system.
The lila derdeba (night rights of possession) ceremonies are celebrated using the Ganga drum (double headed drum found throughout the Caribbean, and west and north Africa) and the karkaba (metal castanets) mainly, whereas the urban Gnawa also play the sintir, a three stringed bass lute related to the Bamana ngoni (Mali), Wolof xalam (Senegal), and the banjo. Gnawa music embodies the compassion of the blues and the social commentary of rap, which is founded on love and concern for fellow humans and their state. While west Africa’s Bambara, Hausa, and Fulani peoples were forced west to the Americas, they also went north to Morocco where they created Gnawa culture. Gnawa music is Morocco’s equivalent to the blues and rumba. In 2019, UNESCO acknowledged Gnawa music by inclusion on the Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage.
Music Photography and Conversations with the Artists
SOUND OF LIGHT is a book uncovering 25 years of my photography focusing on the griots of African American and Afro-diasporic music.
Following black music scenes in New York City and on the road, it is a love letter to the art of music and the art of photography. The book consists of images plus conversations with musicians about their artistic process and the spirituality of music. Seeing jazz, hip hop, funk, soul, rock n'roll, street dance culture and beyond, the volume reflects the relatedness of black music and performance styles, celebrating the common root of artistic expression from a personal perspective. Cultivating my vision as a photographer has meant seeing beyond the world of forms and discrete artistic mediums, allowing me to transcend the process of my rational mind to work with an iconography of the spirit.
The two photographic chapters, OFFstage and ONstage, offer a soulful glimpse into the fullness of the itinerant performer’s experience. Those interviewed are all longtime collaborators—this intimacy and openness comes across in honest conversations about the creative process.
Featured artists include Robert Glasper, Wynton Marsalis, Greg Tate, Bilal, Ishmael Butler, Fishbone, Keyon Harrold, Parliament-Funkadelic, Jason Moran, Living Colour, Wadada Leo Smith, Chucho Valdés, Youssou N’Dour, Pharoahe Monch, Hassan Hakmoun, Marcus Strickland, Randy Weston, Burnt Sugar the Arkestra Chamber, Cavalier, Chris Dave, Storyboard P, Marcus Miller, and Salif Keita, among others.
“I want to be somebody that does something that's now, that's relevant. It looks like the future. Jazz people are like, "you are so in the future, oh my God! I feel like you're so far." It's like no, actually I'm not. Now, sorry. That's all I am—now. That's all I'm doing, I'm living in the now. Just going with my life and with what the flow is. How I'm feeling and what's going on socially, connecting that shit."
— Robert Glasper