Pulp Throwback: APES**T by The Carters Through the #BlackLivesMatter Movement
Nicolette Petra
The Current #BlackLivesMatter Movement
After weeks of protesting both online and on the streets, the #BlackLivesMatter movement has gained significant footing in the current social zeitgeist. Yet, with our feeds slowly returning to “normal”, many of the movement’s latest posts seek to emphasise that #BLM is not a phase and that paying lipservice through the showmanship of posts and temporary Instagram stories is not sufficient. The growing focus now is on maintaining long-term, practical allyship both in public and private.
Allyship
For influencers and celebrities with larger platforms and thus, greater reach, allyship has evolved into making significant contributions and matching their followers’ donations, conducting takeovers and collabs, and directing their audience to the businesses and platforms of Black and Indigenous creators, entrepreneurs, and activists. For the everyman, practical allyship has included donating, signing petitions, attending vigils and protests, reading articles, books, and poetry about and by Black and Indigenous people, amplifying the voices of those creators on their social media, having difficult conversations with both family and friends, and reflecting on and educating oneself on prejudice and ignorance.
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This kind of proactive allyship serves as a stepping stone towards a culture of anti-racism, and does so by allowing the individuals and groups at the heart of these communities and movements the space to be seen and heard in an unsiloed manner. Space, therefore, whether it be physically in protests, verbally in conversations, vocationally in interviews, or electronically on social media, lies at the crux of establishing long-lasting change, especially when those spaces have long been dominated by Western, colonial-centred narratives.
However, this idea of Black or Indigenous groups creating, fighting for and being deprived of space is neither new nor groundbreaking, least of all in the music industry. The recent #BlackoutTuesday trend on 2 June, began as #TheShowMustBePaused, a music industry protest started by Briana Agyemang and Jamila Thomas, two Black women and former music marketers. In her catalytic post, Agyemang called on the gatekeepers of Black culture in the music industry to take the day to reflect and recognise the following:
“The music industry is a multi-billion dollar industry. An industry that has profited predominantly from Black art. Our mission is to hold the industry at large, including major corporations + their partners who benefit from the efforts, struggles and successes of Black people accountable.”
For years, Black music creators and gatekeepers have fought for a seat at the whitewashed table or, as Beyoncé and Jay-Z Carter illustrated just two years ago in their APES**T music video, a place in the Louvre.
In 2018, the powerhouse couple released their collab song and accompanying music video, APES**T. The audio-visual experience The Carters created in this music video centres around the exact message currently at the heart of the #BlackLivesMatter movement; that for Black culture to be recognised and appreciated it needs a space to exist. The pair broadcast this message in the music video by recontextualising Western culture, art and history so that it is told from the perspective of Black America. Put simply, Beyonce and Jay-Z merge two long-opposed cultures, inserting “lowbrow” art into an elitist “highbrow” space, thus creating a conversation between the two through what’s known as the Neo-Baroque film movement.
The Neo-what?
The Neo-Baroque film movement is a cornerstone in late twentieth and early twenty-first century cinema, ‘combining sight and sound…in ways that parallel seventeenth-century baroque’ aesthetics (Ndalianis) through digital technology to express contemporary political and social concerns. In many ways, Neo-Baroque films are “disrespectful”, breaking the classical frame and traditional soundtrack (Cottle, 2019).
Of course, what is known as “classical,” “traditional,” and “highbrow” today, originates from the narrative of Western superiority and white supremacy peddled since colonisation; meanwhile, its counterpart, “lowbrow” culture, is associated with Black, Indigenous and tribal cultures. Thus, the notion of “disrespect” associated with the Neo-Baroque is founded on the idea that classic imperialist art is to be revered and should hold its own hallowed space, meaning that to include anything which juxtaposes or falls outside that gaze is unwelcome. What the Neo-Baroque movement is really about, therefore, is disrupting the monolithic Western narrative by subverting it with Black art and culture, which is exactly what APES**T does.
Why the Louvre?
The music video opens with a montage of extreme closeup shots of artworks in the Louvre, all featuring, or rather focusing on the colour white – a headdress, hands, hair – while a church bell, reminiscent of Renaissance Christianity, tolls (0:22). The audience is then presented with wide shots of the Louvre’s intricately detailed ceilings. ‘Lavish, [and] rich with accumulated cultural power, wealth and colonialism,’ (Grady), the Louvre is established in the music video as a spectacle of white excess as told through the imperialist gaze. It’s no wonder it was chosen by The Carters as the domain to remediate by making Black art the spectacle throughout the music video (Huny Young).
Move aside, Mona Lisa
The Carters stand before the Mona Lisa (0:58)
When we are introduced to Beyoncé and Jay-Z, the song APES**T begins, infiltrating the classically silent atmosphere with the deep synth and base of hip-hop and RnB. A closeup of the Mona Lisa slowly blurs and is reduced to little more than a backdrop as the camera zooms out, making Beyoncé and Jay-Z the focus (0:48). This shot alone sets the tone for the entire music video by encapsulating the Carter’s purpose: to ‘[recontextualise] classical Western art’ (Grady).
Beyoncé and her dancers before the Consecration of the Emperor Napoleon and the Coronation of Empress Joséphine (1:38).
Beyoncé also achieves this idea through her dancers who are ‘of a spectrum of brown skin’ (Huny Young) and gyrate unapologetically in front of the larger-than-life Consecration of the Emperor Napoleon and the Coronation of Empress Joséphine (1:38). The decision to have Beyonce and her dancers in front of this painting may symbolise that Napoleon’s notion of meritocracy lives on in African Americans who work tooth-and-nail to have presence and power in spaces they have historically been excluded from. Alternatively, by ‘[positioning] herself directly under the crown meant for Joséphine’ (Huny Young), Beyoncé may be symbolically reclaiming this space as the embodiment of a modern queen. Either way, having Beyonce and her fellow dancers as the focus allows The Carters to present Black culture as ‘the aesthetic object’ of the music video, while the still-life artworks of the Louvre are relegated to mere backgrounds (Silberstein).
The Statues Weren’t Always White
The motif of having Black culture as the focus is repeated constantly throughout the video. For instance, Beyoncé, dressed in an all-white flowing gown, dances madly in front of statues like Winged Victory (5:04) and Venus de Milo (5:29), not only ignoring them but upstaging them (Huny Young). As a result, Beyoncé draws on goddess imagery (Gemmill) to make Black women the standard of beauty. By interposing herself and Black culture onto such statues in the Louvre, APES**T seeks to shatter the long-held myth ‘whiteness’ has always been superior in beauty, art and culture.
Beyoncé dances in front of Victory (5:29).
Beyoncé and Jay-Z dance in front of Venus de Milo (5:04).
In fact, Hellenistic statues were not originally white marble (Talbot); rather, these Ancient Greek statues were painted in colour and representative of various races, ethnicities and cultures. However, the paint was often scrubbed off by archaeologists and museum curators before being displayed to enhance their collectability because again, an item’s collectibility turned upon whether it fit with the colonial monomyth that whiteness reigned supreme. It is APES**T’s amalgamation of Black culture, music and artists in a location that has quite literally scrubbed these parts of humanity from history that means this music video speaks directly to the idea of spacial, racial and personal liberation.
The Portrait of Madame Récamierz
Two Black women before the Portrait of Madame Récamier (2:14)
The Carters also make a spectacle of Black culture by inserting Black history where it has been erased. For instance, the Portrait of Madame Récamier, picturing a ‘a rich wife in neo-classical garb reclining on a couch’ (Bidisha) is foregrounded by two Black dancers posing as servants, in head-wraps (2:15), reminding audiences of the Black faces and artists that have been omitted from high culture. The interposed vignettes of inherently African American culture, for instance ‘a Black woman…picking out the tightly coiled 'fro of a Black man…with the Mona Lisa far enough in the background to be blurred’ (Huny Young) (5:22), and the parallels between the poses of anguish in the paintings and their recontextualisation with Black lovers (Lebeau), emphasises that “lowbrow” culture and the Black gaze has just as much right and beauty to be considered a spectacle in revered spaces as the Western imperialist gaze that has persisted for centuries.
This is further highlighted by the strong allusion to fellow African American performance artists, like Deana Lawson (Huny Young), who have created artistic spaces of their own. Hence, the Carters use the body and its performative movement with their music as a new version of sculpture (Silberstein), thus shattering ‘western neoclassical aesthetic standards’ (Bidisha) with a politically-charged, Neo-Baroque ontology.
Black culture as performative art. Left: Still from The Carters' APES**T (5:22). Right: Deana Lawson's performance art.
Accessing Space
Some perceived APES**T as a mere ‘flex’ of wealth and materialism. Professor and museum curator, Theodore Barrow, asserted that the Louvre’s ‘art was being used to signify status with no meaning outside of cultural capital and luxury’ (Lebeau). Barrow also pondered why the Carters chose the Louvre rather than Versailles, as it is a ‘public institution’ whereby ‘anyone has access to these spaces and has the opportunity to see these works of art in intimate terms’ (Lebeau).
What Barrow fails to grasp, perhaps as a result of his privileged context, is that ‘people from the African diaspora’ whose culture was plundered and purchased illegally, and who do not find semblance in the vast portion of the artworks, do not ‘consider museums to be “for them”—the level of opulence and privilege isn’t relatable’ (Huny Young).
The Carters’ reclamation of this sort of space and the word Apeshit (both in title and lyric; ‘Have you ever seen a crowd going Apeshit?’), which has etymologically derogatory animalistic imagery and racial connotations, is transgressive (Zeimmer in Silberstein) and liberating. While Barrow comprehends the Louvre to be a spectacle that should be revered, he misunderstands that The Carters are using the audio-visual medium ‘to subvert a dominant imperialistic gaze’ (Silberstein) and challenge conventions of racial and socio-economic class systems (De Paor-Evans).
What now?: Decolonising Traditionally White Spaces
APES**T is one of many pieces of Black art which showcase that iconic Eurocentric narratives have dominated the Western world for a large part of history. Agyemang and Thomas’s call to action in the music industry echoes the same message as The Carters in APES**T; that as gatekeepers of Black culture, it is critical that artists have space to tell their own stories and retell stories of imperialism through their own gaze.
There now exists a fear that the #BlackLivesMatter movement is just a phase that is gradually losing momentum. In order to ensure long-lasting, meaningful change is made, it’s critical that influencers and the everyman continue to hold a space for Black lives by learning and having conversations about systemic racism. But so too is it crucial that the industries and institutions which have long barred or altogether erased Black and Indigenous art and culture, make practical steps to acknowledge, include and amplify them moving forward.
In a recent Instagram post, writer Anisa Tavangar shared her senior thesis concerning how ‘the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Africa, Oceania and the Americas department “upholds the notion of primitivism that groups the continent of Africa, the region of Oceania, and pre-Colombian America as an interchangeable tribalist other”’ (Tavangar cited by Holmes). Tavangar draws attention to the fact that museums have not only tokenistically included exhibitions of Black art but that exhibitions of African, Oceanic and the Americas art are often lumped together, consequently ‘[establishing] a contrast between these objects and the Western artistic practices. This "us vs. them" mentality highlights a colonialist approach: "European vs. non-European," "civilised vs. uncivilised”’.
What Tavangar suggests, just as APES**T artistically does, is decolonising traditionally imperialist spaces and including genuine representations of Black and Indigenous art and culture that are neither limited in number nor inferior or sidelined in representation. While the Met released a statement on 1 June 2020 in which it ‘affirmed solidarity with the Black community’ and committed to ‘ongoing efforts to diversify [the] institution’, it is yet to broadcast or make practical steps towards this goal.
Whether it’s the lack of Black representation in the Louvre, the tearing down and vandalism of colonialist statues, or the current cutting of Black and Indigenous courses in Arts and Humanities faculties at universities, it is undeniable that Black culture continues to be suffocated and siloed. To show support for Black and Indigenous communities when everyone else does is one thing; to continue being a proactive ally long after the trend has dissipated is quite another. If this throwback to APESH**T illustrates anything, it’s that the plea for space is not a new one nor one that will be easily achieved but one worth fighting and being an ally for nonetheless.
You can attend the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW now for free.
Read about how the government is doubling the price of Arts degrees here. Sign the petition against government cuts to Arts degrees here.
The above analysis of The Carters’ APES**T music video was originally written as part of a final essay in the ARHT3601: Cinematic Transformations course which falls under the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences (FASS). Neither this article nor the insights I learnt regarding the stifling of space when it comes to Black art and culture would have been possible without this Arts course. The Arts and Humanities are crucial to halting ignorance, furthering education about different cultures, and building an anti-racist allyship, and should be protected from the capitalistic upheaval they are currently facing.
References
Articles
Bidisha. (19/6/2018). A guide to Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s new video: from the Mona Lisa to 'living lavish'. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/music/shortcuts/2018/jun/18/shortcuts-beyonce-jay-z-apeshit.
Gemmill, A. (17/6/2018). A guide to the artwork featured in The Carters’ ‘APESHIT’. Dazed Digital. https://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/40396/1/beyonce-jay-z-everything-is-love-apeshit-artwork-explained.
Grady, C. (19/6/2018). The meaning behind the classical paintings in Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s “Apeshit”: Why it matters that the video takes place in the Louvre. https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/6/19/17476212/apeshit-video-beyonce-jay-z-carters-portrait-negresse-benoist.
Holmes, H. (16/6/2020). Met Museum Commits to Confronting Racial Injustice; a Viral Instagram Post Suggests How. Observer.com. https://observer.com/2020/06/met-museum-instagram-post-africa-oceania-americas-wing/.
Huny Young, S. (18/6/2018) In Beyoncé And Jay-Z's 'Apeshit' Video, Blackness Is An Art Form. Elle.com. https://www.elle.com/culture/music/a21602201/beyonce-jay-z-the-carters-apeshit-everything-is-love-art-blackness/.
Lebeau, A. (18/6/2018). An art history expert breaks down Beyoncé and JAY-Z’s “APESHIT” video: Professor and museum curator Theodore Barrow tells us what we should know about The Carters’s new video. Fader.com. https://www.thefader.com/2018/06/18/beyonce-jay-z-apeshit-art-history-expert-louvre-mona-lisa.
Silberstein, E. (9/8/2019). “Have You Ever Seen the Crowd Goin’ Apeshit?”: Disrupting Representations of Animalistic Black Femininity in the French Imaginary. https://www.mdpi.com/2076-0787/8/3/135/htm.
Talbot, M. (29/10/2018) “The Myth of Whiteness in Classical Sculpture”. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/10/29/the-myth-of-whiteness-in-classical-sculpture.
Journals
De Paor-Evans, A. (2018). The Intertextuality and Translations of Fine Art and Class in Hip-Hop Culture. Faculty of Culture and the Creative Industries, University of Central Lancashire, Lancashire PR1 2HE, UK.
Ndalianis, A. (2004). Overview in Introduction: the baroque and neo-baroque. Neo-Baroque aesthetics and contemporary entertainment (pp. 1–29). MIT Press. https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/neo-baroque-aesthetics-and-contemporary-entertainment.
Theses
Tavangar, A, Dr. Jones, K. Dr. Christiansë, Y. (24/4/2018). Behind the Primitive Shadow: History and Its Consequence on Contemporary African Art. Senior Thesis Africana Studies Department, Art History Department, Barnard College. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/56986ac11115e0d42d7e6dcd/t/5ae6924d352f53e6c7b42278/1525060177054/Behind+the+Primitive+Shadow.pdf.
Music Videos
Carter, B; Carter, J. (16/6/2018). APES**T - THE CARTERS. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbMqWXnpXcA.
Lectures
Cottle, S. 2019. ARIN3601: Cinematic Transformations, Week 5 Lecture.