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Interview with Tom Feelings August 1996 In your new book The Middle Passage you say that in order for us to move forward and shape the future we have to study the past. Especially in terms of African people. One of the problems is that the truth hasn't been told about the past. They have made it appear that Africans are basically inferior as a rationalization for enslaving us. That way you can excuse the enslavement. They portray us as less than human beings. They pretend that what was happening, the enslavement, put the Africans in the positon of being civilized. A friend of mine said, "The antidote for confusion is self-knowledge." Knowing who you are and where you come from makes it much easier for you to deal with the world, understand what is going on in the world. For me it was finding out who I am and what is my culture--I found out by going back to Africa. When did you go to Africa? In 1964 I moved to West Africa, to Ghana. At that time I was very influenced by what was going on in America to Black people. There was the Civil Rights movement. There was a big anti-Black movement going on. It had always been there, but at the time Black people were fighting back, fighting for equality there was a lot of moves against Black people--the burning of churches, which ironically is going on right now, the bombing of churches, the resistance against children going to school on an equal basis with White children. I was, of course as an artist seeing all this, I knew that within the Black community there was joy--I could hear it in our music at that time. But I also knew that there was pain, and I knew where the pain came from. I went to Africa to find out where the source of the joy came from. What did you find in Africa? I did find the source of our joy. The first thing I found out was that being in the majority, being surrounded by people who looked like me, feeling for the first time my feet on the soil where there was thousands of years of culture. I never again felt like a minority. In terms of identity, I had my identity strengthened. I also began to see much more clearly where the source of energy for that music and the dance consciousness came from. The music and the dance consciousness are in America in terms of Black music. You can see the roots of Rap music in Africa. Yes. All of it comes from Africa. What Africa does is it has celebatory rights--in Africa everything is celebrated, even death as a new beginning. It helps balance life's pain. In Africa, pain and joy just don't exist side by side, they interact and build on each other. Here in the West they tend to see joy and pain and sorrow as complete opposites that never interact. I think in the "Third World" countries, but I know in Africa, we see joy and pain as a part of life, and they interact and they build on each other. And the joy of the Black experience is always tempered by the pain. What is the meaning of the title of your book, The Middle Passage? What The Middle Passage represents, the ships they built in Europe which were sent out to Africa to pick up people to bring back as slave labor, and then back to America. The passage from one place to the other is called the middle passage. What motivated you to make this book? Was it the time you spent in Africa or the Civil Rights movement, or something else? When I was living in Africa, a friend of mine in Ghana asked me the question, "what happened to y'all when you were taken away?" I realized that the middle passage was the connecting line between Africans in Africa and Africans who were taken to all parts in the Diaspora, though it's a very painful connecting line, as we were taken away from our home forcibly in chains. I realized that by telling this story and using all the skills I have and the celebratory rights of our African culture, I might be able to tell this story in such a way that it would show the connecting line spiritually between all of us. If I could tell it beautiful like the music does. If you listen to the Blues, what you hear sometimes is very painful lyrics, but you hear a rhythm under the painful lyrics that is almost joyful. The two things combine and work together and balance each other. The Blues is not sad, it is an uplifting music. Exactly. And I was trying to do the same thing with my book. I knew the first picture in the book would be life affirming--that is Africa before the slave trade. And I knew the last picture in the book--that is this huge black force coming to a port in the Americas, showing that these are the people who survived--would be life affirming. My struggle would be showing all that pain of the middle. In your book you say that all African people came from West Africa. Can you explain that? You're reading the text that the historian wrote. I read all of that text too. But what I wanted to do as an artist was to take you on an emotional trip, so that you could feel this. You can look on the map and see that Black people were taken from Africa, from East and West Africa, and taken to the America. I was more concerned about you going on the emotional trip, no so much about details of what year or how many. I understand what you're saying. In fact in our cultures we don't concern ourselves with too many statistics. In European culture there is a lot of interest in dissecting and categorizing things, technical information is very important. Right, I went for the feeling. What became very important to me was to show first of all that this was a huge story that had happened to millions of people, therefore I chose the shape of the book and the size of the book and design to make you feel like this happened--a panoramic scene. but I also chose to do the drawings and paintings in such a way that it felt very intimate. I was trying to do, again, two things at one time. Make it feel large and yet make it feel very intimate. You were working on this book for a long time? Twenty years. I finished the line drawings in two and a half years, that was in '76, '77. But I wanted volume to them, depth--I wanted different levels. So I had to paint the things in tone to get these levels, and that's what took such a long time. Sometimes I had to do the pictures over 6 times. Your technique is amazing. It looks almost like a blurred, photograph, or a painting, and it's all black in white. That allows you to do two things First of all, in black and white it allows your mind to go into it and if you need to, you can furnish the color. Sometimes I wanted you to see things very clearly so they would hit you in the chest emotionally. Some things I didn't want you to see so clearly, so your mind would have to go into the picture. I was trying to make things come off the page and go below the surface of the page and move across the pages with a rhythm. You said that you listen to music while you paint. I listen to African music, Jazz, South American music, Gospel, Reggae, and Rap. It helps balance me and helps remind me--what I was tryin to do in this book was already done in the music. Do you work in color ever, or only in black and white? I did a book just before The Middle Passage, about two years ago, called Soul Looks Back and Wonder for Black teenagers. It's in full color. It's a picture book, it's not as large as The Middle Passage. You have several children's books out. Do you have other books? While I was working on The Middle Passage I did four books, but they all related to The Middle Passage. Before that what were you doing? When I came back from Africa I concentrated on doing books about Africa. Realizing that in the West the children are bombarded with negative images of Africa, I wanted to show the children my experience, which was positive. So I focused on illustrating books that had an African theme. Jambo Means Hello and Moja Means One, in those books what you see is the joy. In The Middle Passage what I did was combine the pain with the joy I'm sure you've noticed that in childrens books, movies, all the images made for children portray the bad person to be dark. Yes. If you look in the dictionary they have over 90 negative connotations for the word black or dark, and just the opposite for white. This is one of the reasons, if you look very closely at The Middle Passage, what I did understanding that, was turn it around. Right from the front cover, the thing that is threatening on that front cover is the white water--the abstract white water, the white ship. Now this is from the Africans' perspective. What I tried to do was put you in the perspective of the Africans: this is what you see and this is how you feel about it. Everything that's dark in The Middle Passage are the things that are close to you, that you move into. In other words, you're not afraid of the dark. Have you seen other artist who are consciously presenting things in this way? Sure. There are children's book illustrators who are aware of it and they show this in their work too. James Ranson is one Black illustrator. Your wife wrote some of the books you illustrated? My first wife. She wrote the books Moja Means One and Jambo Means Hello. Those books were done in the early '70's. What happened is, when I came back from Africa I started doing the children's books. Then I went to Guyana in South America, I lived there for three years. Why were you there? They were colonized by the English and the Dutch. In the 1970 the government was now independent, and they wanted to start changing the children's books to represent the largest majority of people in Guyana, which was now African and East Indians and Amer-Indians. They wanted books that reflected that population, and I was brought in to work with the illustrators to do these books. It was there where I saw how they were trying to tell the true story of how each group came to Guyana--the Africans brought in as slave labor, the East Indians brought in as indentured servants. They decided to tell this particular story to the children in their children's books. It was there that I realized that I could tell the same story, the story that related to all of us, by working on The Middle Passage. When I was in south America I read all the material for The Middle Passage about slavery, and I wrote it out long hand. But when I got ready to do the drawings what would happen is I'd wake up in the morning and say I was going to work on the drawings, then a warm breeze would come through and I'd just go out and take a walk. I realized after about 2 weeks that I'd have to be in a place that kept reminding me of the pain. Like if a rapper lives in the ghetto and writes about the ghetto it would sound more real. It's similar. By me living in Africa and then living in South America, I was basically psychologically and physically taking the same trip that a large group of Black people had. I was more now a Pan-Africanist, and so the story that I had to tell was more a story that related to all of us, not just in America. But I had to be in America to be reminded of the original pain in me. Being in America kept reminding me why I was working on the book. Do you think things have gotten any better for African people in America? Some things have gotten better. There are more books that my children and your children can find that they can relate to and images that look like them. But there's still some things--what happens every time that there is an action there is a reaction. When it begins to look like people of color are changing their own lives for the better, then there are Whites who are fearful that something is being taken away from them, so they start blaming all the things that are wrong on the people of color. That's what's happening now. You see this where Rap music is being blamed for all the violence in society. One thing I would like to say which I think is very important. If a Rap artist came to me and asked me if it's imporant to tell the truth no matter how painful it is, I would say: Yes, but the person who is telling the truth should develope their skills as best they can so that when they tell this truth it is very clear to the people who are listening that they care for them--that there is love and reverence for the people they come from. If you don't have that in the work then all you're doing is just telling the raw truth. There's a way of telling people the truth in such a way that they can change things, and then there's a way of just stating the truth that means nothing but is just a statement. James Baldwin the writer made this statement: the role of the artist is exactly the same as the role of the lover. If I love you I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see. You asked me why it took me so long on those pictures for The Middle Passage. Because I wanted to make sure--I wasn't trying to evade the pain--but I wanted to make sure that Black people saw more than just pain in those pictures. That they could see that the person who is telling this story is right there on the same trip with them and cares for them. I'm very much like a storyteller. I consider books an extension of the oral tradition. A storyteller telling you a story holds onto you in the way he tells the story, but also you listen because you feel that this person cares for you. That's the quality I was trying to make sure was in those pictures. Where did you grow up? Brooklyn, New York. Now I live in South Carolina. Did you start drawing when you were young? Yes, I started drawing at a very early age. I started by copying from comic strips. I was always interested in telling the story. That element of storytelling is, I think, very close to the oral tradition. In comics the story becomes the most important thing. They use their skills to emphasize the story. I started out doing comic books. In comics, also, most of the heroes are not Black people. Yeah, but there's a group of African American comic book artists. In fact they asked me to take part in a show with them soon in Boston. Who's publishing their comics? Some of them are publishing the things themselves. There are a couple of comic book companies that project Black heros. This event is like a convention. They asked me to participate because of what they saw me do with The Middle Passage, because it's another form of storytelling. How did you end up in South Carolina? From Africa I came back to the States and started doing books. Then I went to South America and stayed for 3 years, came back to the States, to New York, to work on The Middle Passage. When I was ready to finish The Middle Passage I moved here because the next book will be on slavery in the American South. You're working on another book? I've already done some of the drawings. What else do you do besides work on your books? I was teaching here at the University of South Carolina for about 6 years. I was teaching illustration. I retired from teaching and now I'm just doing books again. In the 60's were you influence by the Black Power movement, people like Malcolm X and Huey P. Newton. Oh yes. That's why I went to Africa in the first place. Do you see that there's something like that going on at this time? I see that there has been a raising of consciousness and Black people are much more aware of what is going on. When I see the style of African clothes or African influenced clothes I know that there are far more Black people who are ready to accept the fact that they are Africans. For the last 25 years when people ask me what kind of work I do I say I'm an illustrator, a storyteller in picture form. When I'm asked who I am I say I'm an African who was born in America. Because I believe that both answers connect specifically with my past and my present. I believe I bring to my work a quality which is rooted in the culture of Africa and expanded by my experience of being Black in America. A lot of Black people in America don't connect with being African. It's because everything about Africa has been downgraded. It's not just Africa, it's being Black. That's one of the reasons I didn't want to use words in my book and to tell a story just in picture, because I knew words have been used against us. I believe that many people in this world, whether they know it or not, benefit from the celebratory rights of African culture, as everybody benefits from truth expressed in art. But in the Diaspora--that's North and South America and the islands of the West Indies--it's clearly acknowledged in our music and in dance and in the athletic world that. But wherever there is a level playing field, Africans enter and raise the level of excellence. Practically any place you go in the world now you can see the influence of African music. It's that energy that comes from a culture that keeps balancing life's pain and joy. An example is this: I was working on The Middle Passage, this ability to improvise within a restricted form of space, of time and even of the human body, then triumphantly transcending it beautifully, both physically and spiritually, is what comes from Africa. An example is that in the holes of the dungeons, in the filth of those slave ships, the light had to come from within, it had to be called up from memory. That light from within helped us to create a dance movement of the mind beyond the chains and beyond the limits of space and that light remains in our memories. You've heard of the dance called the Limbo? It was probably formed in our minds in the horrible cramped holes of the slave ships. You know the Limbo is how low can you go under that pole, still keeping your balance, before you rise up to your full height on the other side. Then the pole is lowered again and you go back under again, and each time you rise up spiritually like a spiral, higher than before. It's improving within a restricted form and transcending. That's what the Jazz musicians and the Blues singers and the dancers made out of the pain--an ironic dance of celebration. Not a dance celebrating oppression, but a form of triumph, victory over around and through oppression, in spite of oppression. This is the culture I drew from, that I relied on, that I had to call back to every day for 20 years working on The Middle Passage. I listened to the genius of the music of Africa, Jazz, Blues, Mambo, Gospel, Reggae. In Africa the music and storytellers are important and respected people in society. Do you see the artists and rappers are playing a similar role in African society here? Yes, as long as the artists and the rappers realize that they have been blessed to have been a vehicle for this profound dramatic history. If you know that you are a vehicle you don't get caught up in your ego that takes you away from the very people you came from. You know how you were saying some rappers make money and then are removed from their source, and then they stop acknowledging the source of the pain. The ghetto--which is just a name given to the place where Black people live--is often thought of in a negative way. I don't see it to be negative. If people are forced to live under certain conditions in the richest country in the world, then there is a reason for it. We should always acknowledge the joy in our lives, but always identify the source of the pain. If there's pain in the community, where does this pain come from? Young Black teenagers don't make those guns. How do the guns get into the community? It's always about identifying the source of the pain. That's what I tried to do by going all the way back to the middle passage--where it started. Of course, I did this book The Middle Passage from an African's perspective. I wanted the images to have a definite point of view and the passion that reflects clearly the experience the people endured. Clearly I did the book for Black people all over the world--inside and outside the continent of Africa. But because I had used the functional form of a narrative without words, it is open to all people, especially those who have difficulty visualizing what Black people describe as racism from the past and its lingering presence in the present. Anybody can pick up this book and choose to enter our experience. But they'll see, in the words of the Black writer Paule Marshall, that we are a people who transform humiliating experiences into creative ones. That's what I was trying to do with this book. |