“When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak.” - Audre Lorde
Friday, July 23, 2010
For the last blog, we’re talking about adolescence. I couldn’t help but look to see if all of Taylor Swift’s videos involved high school and crying about boys, so I ended up watching “Teardrops on My Guitar.” I guess I wasn’t disappointed.
Kearney would encourage us to focus on girls not just as consumers, but also as producers (286). Taylor Swift is certainly creating her own music and putting forth and constructing her own self-image. While it’s easy for us to assume more powerful forces, like music corporations, have had a hand in her image, she is a willful participant in that which she creates. Whether or not her weepy romanticism is her true self is secondary to the fact that this image is presented as truth (Brown, Self-representation).
In “Teardrops on My Guitar,” Taylor Swift pines over Drew, her friend and LOVE of her LIFE. Unfortunately for Swift’s heart and the paint on her guitar, Drew loves another and spends his time walking past Taylor Swift in slow motion. So at night she wears a beautiful ball gown in her best make-up and lies on the bed, holding her guitar. And then, she weeps.
Drew looks at me I fake a smile so he won't see What I want and I need
Not only is Drew what Swift desires, she claims that he is what she needs, perpetuating the idea that all a teenage girl needs is a boyfriend. Unlike riot grrl zines that supported counter-culture and female education (Kearney 287), Swift continues traditional ideas of female adolescence. Despite the publicity of the music video, Swift still acknowledges the bedroom as a private sphere, the only place where her true emotions can come out (and apparently, they come out as tears on her guitar). For Taylor Swift, being a teenage girl sounds really, really sad and lonely, focused exclusively on the boy that “keeps her wishing on a star.” Where are her friends?
I'll bet she's beautiful That girl he talks about And she's got everything That I have to live without
So Swift’s only relief is to think endlessly about the other woman, letting her jealousy mount. When we finally see the girl he’s so in love with, we see she’s a sharp contrast to Swift: she’s a brunette with unimpressive clothes and little make-up. Meanwhile, Swift is dressed to the nines for a day at school. Even in the music video, there is the need to downplay the other girl. Women are constantly pitted against each other and are taught to view other women as competition in the marriage market. This video certainly doesn’t disappoint. It’s as if the only way she can console herself is through consumption: wear more make-up and more expensive clothes and keeping hoping, girls, that he’ll see you one day. This makes Swift palatable to the masses: she is sexually demure and the girl next door, mooning over boys instead of getting into rowdy trouble.
We’ve learned that it’s important to think about why certain representations are popular and constant (Brown, Self-Representation). Taylor Swift is a gorgeous, white, upper-middle class teen that has access to resources that others may not have (Brown, Self-representation). The result is that her narrative is the one presented: a white, middle class life where she can afford to only think about boys and her guitar because her parents had resources and were able to take her to every gig, practice, and label. (Creepily, her guitar almost becomes the consolation prize.) Why, despite traveling the world and playing concerts for the masses, does she still sing songs about how hard her love life in high school is? This message speaks to broad audiences and presents Taylor Swift as harmless, mousy, and safe. Even though parents might not want these qualities for their daughters, they are predictable and familiar narratives. Produced by Swift herself, they seem more authentic and give an almost pseudo sense of empowerment: look how great it is she can play the guitar and tell her story! But is her story really good for our daughters?
Worked Cited: Brown, Adriane. “Self-representation.” Power Point. 2010. Kearney, Mary C. “Producing Girls: Rethinking The Study of Female Youth Culture.” In Delinquents and Debutantes: Twentieth-Century American Girls' Culture. New York University Press. 1998.
In the episode, hero Aang needs to find someone to teach him how to manipulate the earth to do whatever he wants (earthbending). He needs to find someone who “waits and listens,” but he only finds a swindling earthbending teacher and a gang of hyper-masculine parodies of WWE wrestlers. During Earth Rumble 6, they’re all defeated by a 12-year-old girl. She’s a master earthbender and blind; she will be Aang’s teacher. Unfortunately, she's locked up by her over-protective parents.
Marginalizing discourses reinforce a few things: rigidity in roles (gender, sexuality, etc.), the norm as the focus, creating and reinforcing strict categories of exclusion and placing non-normative people to the, well, margins (Brown, Transgeneration). While her parents’ treatment of her seems to marginalize Toph both as a young woman and as a character with a disAbility, viewer expectations are subverted by her fighting skills and brash, fearless attitude.
The episode thus presents us with a more universal discourse, where gender roles are fluid and flexible. Representation of diversity in Avatar becomes center and demonstrates that the norm is only maintained due to systematic structures of power (Toph’s parents are the richest people in the Earth Kingdom). Whereas marginalization is discrete, maintaining a strict 'either/or' portrayal of roles, universal discourses present a continuum that give voice to typically marginalized groups (Brown, Transgeneration). Generally feminist-friendly Avatar in many cases operates in this capacity.
The series famously features a fantasy world inspired by several Asian and indigenous cultures. Aang was raised by Tibetan-like monks while Katara and Sokka come from an Inuit-like Water Tribe. Both Katara and Sokka, two of our heroes, have darker skin. Although still fairly homogeneous, Avatar portrays characters of varying shades, which provides needed representation for youth of color, particularly salient for Asian American children. While Judith Mayne applies her ideas of representation to gender, her idea that dichotomous and limited portrayals of women were often reinforced in the past (Mayne 162) is relevant to race as well (think Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's or Mr. Miyagi in Karate Kid). By taking a more universal portrayal of race, people of color are not pushed to the margins in Avatar -- instead inhabiting a range of roles and personalities.
Mayne points out that the madonna and the whore (Mayne 162) are typical examples of marginalized discourse. The madonna is unrealistic perfection and the whore is unrealistic evil. In Avatar, Toph's parents treat her as the madonna. She is hoisted onto a pedestal, dressed in a white flowing gown, and kept caged inside mansion grounds. Why? Well, she's a blind girl. But Toph is secretly the world's greatest earth-bender. Though blind, she senses the earth's vibrations through her feet, which allows her to see everything around her and earth-bend accordingly. A moment to digress: are you thinking "super-crip" right now? That’s fair, but I yield to Larry N. Sapp's response when asked about characters like Toph.
From here. Although Toph is presented as 'overcoming' her blindness in some aspects, what the story does do is present Toph first as a young woman with passions and interests of her own. She explains, "The obedient, helpless blind girl you think I am just isn't me. I love fighting, I love being an earth-bender and I'm really, really good at it." The dichotomy of the madonna and the whore is shattered in universal texts. Mayne tells us that "representation can function both to reinforce oppressive standards of feminine behavior and to imagine possibilities not typically available to women (163)." She demonstrates that heroic roles in typically male spaces (wrestling arenas, martial arts) are available to women and to people with disAbilities. This presentation of Toph as a capable fighter more interested in playing in the dirt than with tea sets allows viewers to consider the possibilities of what young women and those with disAbilities can do.
Katara and Sokka also have moments in this episode of subverting marginalizing discourses. In the opening scene, it's Sokka who is debating over whether or not to spend money on a new bag. (He'll later comment that the wrestling belt they acquire matches the bag perfectly.) After Katara freezes some bullies to a wall, she returns to the gang with key information. Upon her friends' confusion, she says with a smile, "Oh, a girl has her ways," subverting the idea that women need to use sexuality to get their way. Both of these characters encourage us to read gender roles "as fluid and open to interpretation (Brown, Transgeneration). Female characters in Avatar are capable fighters and masters in their fields. Instead of remaining obedient, Toph runs away to save the world. Even background characters are not left exclusively male in situations where a marginalizing discourse might be expected: at the elite earthbending academy, we see young boys AND girls learning how to use bending.
In "Blind Bandit," Mayne's madonna/whore dichotomy is subverted in favor of a more universal representation of gender. Marginalization, then, is also challenged by a world of people of color, men in touch with their emotions, women fighters, and very capable people who manage their disAbilities as part of normal life. The complexity of these roles speaks to universalism and presents youth with fluid ideas of gender, race, and ability. Plus, Toph's earth-bending just looks cool.
Worked Cited: Brown, Adriane. “Transgeneration.” Power Point. 2010. Mayne, Judith. “Women, Representation, and Culture.” In Reading Women’s Lives. Pearson Custom Publishing.
So let’s talk about Lady Gaga. Depending on who you ask, Gaga is either edgy-cool-original; trying too hard; the best thing since Madonna; weird; an icon; has jumped the shark or is the cause of that song stuck in your head for three days after a night at the club. Either way, most Internet-going, pop culture-ingesting Americans have heard about her, or maybe even talked about her. Her newest headline-maker is the video for her song “Alejandro.”
Like Michael Jackson in the ‘80s, Lady Gaga is taking on full-scale productions in her music videos. Her previous hit “Telephone” was over 9 minutes long and “Alejandro” (surprisingly not a follow-up to “Telephone”) ends with 8 minutes and 49 seconds. Filled with sharp contrasts and smoky scenes, “Alejandro” is certainly visually striking, and in a very familiar way. Remember Madonna’s “Vogue”? It’s pretty clear Lady Gaga was referencing the 1990 video.
But something's been bothering me about the nod to Madonna's "Vogue" from the start. Both videos challenge gender norms by placing a woman as the focus within a group of men, whereas the opposite might be expected. Yet in Madonna's video, the men don't seem sexually interested in Madonna as do the men of Lady Gaga's "Alejandro." They seem more interested in voguing. Madonna's video may have popularized the style of dance vogue in the mainstream, but it was first born from the Harlem ball scene primarily by gay Black men. So when I see Lady Gaga make her nod to Madonna's "Vogue" and the form of dance of the same name, I can't help but wonder: Where are the queer People of Color? That they all look very similar was made obvious and they’re almost pointedly White, with camera work making their pale skin almost glow. Why is it so important that all of the dancers in Gaga's video be read as White? I’ve heard that Whiteness was necessary for her allusions to Weimar Germany (and works such as the musical Cabaret). But why choose the song that is "hot like Mexico" and borrows the Spanish language ("en su bolsillo"/"in her pocket")? Why use an iconic reference to Black gay culture?
Popular representations of gay men are generally White (Will & Grace, Queer as Folk, Queer Eye, every flamboyant gay assistant/secretary I can think of), reinforcing the idea that gay people are only White people. It perpetuates the invisibility of queer People of Color and reinforces norms about how gayness can be constructed in the media. On a broader level, in a song that references Mexico, we’re led to associate the Catholic imagery as that of Mexican Catholicism. Lady Gaga wears a mantilla in the funeral procession and several nun outfits. Yet again, the focus is on Germany and all people featured are read exclusively as European to the exclusion of Latina nationalism. But I don’t think Lady Gaga was intentionally trying to be exclusive or send a message of Aryan superiority (or indicate the control of the Illuminati). Rather, I think Lady Gaga just wanted to make a lot of pop culture references and look sexy. In doing so, she reinforced cultural ideas so pervasive they are thought of as natural or normal, even though, like all cultural ideas, they are constructed and perpetuated by society. “Hegemony is the power or dominance that one social group holds over another” (Lull 61). The mass media is part of this, subtly shaping and defining the way we think about society and ourselves (Lull 62). Whiteness is read as the norm, and we as viewers aren’t really supposed to think anything of White dancers, but homosexuality is the Other, and we are very directly supposed to be aware of their Otherness with every hip sway, high heel, and heated gaze. This is because White is an unmarked identity, something taken for granted and pinned as the standard (Brown, “Privilege”). Queerness, on the other hand, is the opposite and Lady Gaga constructs a sexual orientation for her dancers before our eyes. That People of Color are not represented at all is something we are intended to overlook. It may not be explicit, but invisibility inherently implies something about the role and necessity of People of Color.
Furthermore, Lady Gaga says her video is "a celebration and an admiration of gay love--it confesses my envy of the courage and bravery they require to be together. In the video I'm pining for the love of my gay friends--but they just don't want me to be with them." But as we have learned, audience reception in the end is more relevant than author intent (Brown, “Hegemony”). Although that statement is problematic in and of itself (where gay love becomes coded as "White male love" and "Lady Gaga love" seems to usurp gay male love), it's hard to see how these images represent sexual disinterest by these men for Lady Gaga:
That isn't to say queerness isn't a big part of "Alejandro." She does challenge traditional gender roles with men. Shots of men in high heels are frequent. There are homoerotic wrestling matches and flashes of intimate touches between these men when Lady Gaga is not present. They move their bodies in ways traditionally defined in media as feminine: writhing on the bed for the viewer, fluidity in their walk as they sashay, and at times a reversal of typical media sex positions, where Lady Gaga takes on aggressive and dominant behavior. Something becomes fetishized about these men. They have bowl cuts like little boys and they're clad in nothing but spandex shorts, yet they maintain the well-defined bodies of idealized men (White bodies, uncomfortably). This reminds me of norms surrounding fetishizing young women; all these men are missing are Catholic schoolgirl uniforms. As they writhe on the bed and strut for Lady Gaga, all pining for her attention and only seeking each other's gaze when she's not present, it is very reminiscent of how women are sexualized and objectified in most mainstream videos.
"Wrestling match or simulated sex position?"
For a song that does seem to celebrate a limited form of queer life, it's almost drowned out by heteronormativity (reinforcement of dichotomous gender roles and heterosexuality as the norm). Sure, these men strut like female fashion model on a runway, a possible nod to drag performance, but when Lady Gaga enters the scene, she is the focus. She commands their attention sexually and completely. They wrestle when she's not in the room, but when she is, they encircle her. Scenes of male-male touching are relegated to almost subliminal flashes. Did you catch these following images the first time you watched?
I almost didn't. It was almost secret within the video itself. At the end, they violently toss Lady Gaga around until she eventually undresses, and these queer men swarm her. Is it a presentation of bisexuality or the same reversal of the idea that gaggles of people dressed in femininity are only bisexual because they're too sex crazy without the real object of their desire? Either way, it reinforces the stereotype that bisexual people are over-sexed to the point where only group petting can quell them.
As a viewer, I'm left torn: is this objectification somehow a critique because male bodies are being used or is it reinforcing hegemony, where the only way to let the audience know these men are not straight (or even masculine) is for Gaga's dancers to embody every trope associated with heterosexual female sexuality. At the same time, that I am left uncomfortable is something I appreciate. It plays with the idea of marked identities, "dimensions of identity that are understood as deviating from the (mythic) 'norm'” (Brown, “Privilege”). Women and transgendered persons are thought to have a gender, whereas men don't (Brown, “Privilege”) and we see men explicitly 'doing' gender, making the construction of femininity blatantly obvious. It challenges the idea of something innate about gender when men in this video can pull off femininity as easily (and as sexily) as women.
Finally, I am brought to the words that ebb their way into “Alejandro.” While Weimar Germany and fetishized Nazi imagery seemingly have nothing to do with the song, the struggle between the 'virgin' and the 'whore' does. The whole song Lady Gaga asks to be left alone. She’s more interested in her cigarette than taking part in the love game. “Just stop. Please. Just let me go. Alejandro.” That Lady Gaga is dressed as a symbol of chastity, the nun, further indicates this. But by the end, as a swarm of men grope her and throw her around, she relents and tears her clothes off. I mean, she literally eats a rosary in one scene. Not only has she ‘fallen,’ she was taken by an entire group, and in a scene that doesn’t necessarily look too consensual.
But in popular culture, we’ve seen this idea presented before: women are capable of doing anything sexually if you just talk us into it. Given the reference to Mexico, I can’t help but think of The Virgin of Guadalupe contrasted against La Malinche. Mayne (162) talks about how the madonna triumphs where the whore is punished, but the corruption of the madonna is something we also see in our texts. As for what Lady Gaga is trying to say with that, I’m left scratching my head. Is it inevitable that the pop icon, trapped in the narrow confines of what is expected of women, gives in to using her sexuality explicitly? Instead of challenging what is expected, Lady Gaga gives in, literally.
It isn’t to say that Madonna is beyond criticism while Lady Gaga is not, and it isn’t to say that Lady Gaga isn’t doing something challenging and intriguing in “Alejandro,” but I am saying that Lady Gaga conforms to many of the norms she talks about challenging. She prides herself on pushing boundaries, but like its name implies, hegemony works silently in “Alejandro,” as if the artist herself is unaware of the norms she is reinforcing. She is sexual, taken by a group of men, and depicts the loss of virginity. She does present us with deliciously bended forms of gender, where the male body uncomfortably takes the place of every video woman we’ve ever seen. At the same time, she still depends on the same tropes and stereotypes of heterosexual women, and queer men are only presented as queer when they’re not in awe of her presence. Intentionally or not, she perpetuated the exclusion of queer People of Color (as well as queer women and the transgendered) for the sake of advancing a baffling historical reference. America watches what Lady Gaga does and while her music certainly is catchy, if she wants to push the boundaries, she could try pushing the ones that most affect the lives of her fanbase.
Works Cited: Brown, Adriane. “Privilege.” Power Point. 2010. Brown, Adriane. “Hegemony.” Power Point. 2010. Lull, James. “Hegemony.” In Gender, Race, and Class in Media: A Text-Reader. Eds. Gail Dines and Jean M. Humez. Sage Publications. 2003. 61-66. Mayne, Judith. “Women, Representation, and Culture.” In Reading Women’s Lives. Pearson Custom Publishing.
“When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak.” - Audre Lorde
