The decision by the management of the National Arts Center (NAC) in Ottawa to offer a performance of the play Is God Is to an audience of mostly black viewers is making waves. Even the New York Post covered the matter in its January 29 issue.
Before crying foul and throwing around words like “racism”, “discrimination” or “apartheid”, as some have been doing for the past few days, it would be good to take a step back from this far from new practice.
First of all, it should be noted that this play is by a black American author, Aleshea Harris, and is performed by black actresses. We tackle the themes of twisted morality, the dysfunctional family, the difficulties for a woman to be black and parricide.
This play will be presented from February 9 to 18 at the Babs Asper Theatre, a 1,000-seat hall located at the NAC. It has been decided that February 17 will be a “Black Out Night” for black audiences and that this will be part of the events that will mark Black History Month.
On its website, the National Arts Center is careful to say that this evening “is an open invitation to different audiences who identify with Blacks”. It is also said to be “a space dedicated to black theater lovers”. I emphasize the word “amateurs”.
Nowhere does it say that people who are not black will be refused at the door. “Contrary to what was written by those who did not come to ask us the question, everyone is welcomed and welcome to all our shows, including the Black Out evening,” said Annabelle Cloutier, General Manager, Strategy and Communications, at the NAC. There was never any question of closing the door to anyone. »
In other words, one can be a “lover” of black theater and be white, Asian or aboriginal.
These evenings that some call safe space are becoming more and more popular. No later than November 28, the organization Tangente, responsible for broadcasting dance performances in Montreal and Quebec, offered an evening reserved for PANDC (Aboriginal, black and colored people).
The request came from choreographer Mohammadreza Akrami, who wanted to create an atmosphere conducive to frank and open discussion after the presentation of her work.
Spectators who were not part of the BIPOC showed up with their tickets. When they discovered the character of the evening, some preferred to come back another evening, others entered anyway.
So, before asserting that these evenings are a new form of “racial segregation” as members of the Association des Québécois unis contre le racialisme (AQUR) wrote in an open letter, you have to take your equal gas.
It’s easy to say, when you’ve always been part of a majority group, that these parties are reverse racism.
As much as I find it difficult to accept that art and the work of artists are being reshaped in the name of political correctness, I have no problem with the fact that minorities may want to come together to appreciate the fruit of the creators or experience a particular event.
I will always remember the reaction of this member of my family who attended the opening night of the Outgames at Olympic Stadium in 2006. After watching the thousands of spectators from the LGBTQ+ communities surrounding him, this person said that she understood for the first time in her life the reality of those who constantly live in a minority setting.
We talk about the gay community which has created (and continues to do so) places and events designed for it, but let’s talk about the women who, at the height of the rise of feminism in the 1970s, felt they also the need to be together.
Go re-read the reports of the mega-spectacle of June 23, 1975 on Mount Royal with about fifteen female artists which brought together 200,000 people, the vast majority of whom were women.
To the journalists who came to collect their comments, spectators told how strong they felt and in control of their destiny for once in their lives.
Still on the subject of Tangente, a few years ago we presented a work where all the dancers performed naked. An evening was offered exclusively to members of naturism associations. Did anyone stand up and say it was discrimination against other viewers? Not at all.
Being able to attend a show or not is not an acquired right for spectators. Talk to producers and artists who very often give performances to people from a particular band or company. Nobody complains about that.
So why get on your high horse when Black Out or PANDC evenings are scheduled in theaters?
Of course, we can repeat that it is all together that we will valiantly fight against racism and prejudice. Yes, it’s true. And we already do. Or at least we try to.
I don’t believe that the minority groups who organize these evenings do so to distance themselves from others. They do it to take a step back, to be able to express things without the fear of being misunderstood or misinterpreted.
They do it to imagine, if only for two hours, what it’s like to blend in.
In all transparency, I want to clarify that I worked at the NAC in the 1980s.