Reflecting on Black History Month: five hip-hop albums to

By Ben Brodsky Assistant A&E Editor

Relative to its historic lifespan, hiphop has only recently emerged into mainstream acclaim as a significant genre. For nearly 30 years, from the early 1970s to the late 1990s, hip-hop was almost entirely underground, a reflection of how contemporary Black art was consumed by American listeners. Hip-hop is, by definition, a product of Black history. For the last 50 years, the genre has been a living document of changing — and often unchanging — facets of Black life. As this Black History Month comes to a close, here are five hip-hop albums to celebrate hip-hop, an unstoppable force of transcendent, Black art.

task. Between the rebellious group’s “It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back” (1988) and “Fear of a Black Planet” (1990), I went with “Black Planet.” The bombastic confidence with which Chuck D delivers his now-famous bars explains how Public Enemy was able to amass such a widespread fan base. Notably, the final track, “Fight the Power,” has been cited as one of the greatest protest anthems of all time. The powerful chorus, repeating the title of the song, inspired protest songs of the future.

Celebrate

two walls of a pinball machine, highlighting their respective strengths in each song. An undisputed classic, the album came during a moment of hiphop history in which growing commercialization and fame were beginning to overshadow artistry. The duo shines a Blacklight on the changing landscape, staying true to the genre’s origins with old-school, looping beats and altered takes on legendary songs, especially “Children’s Story,” a cover of Slick Rick’s 1988 song of the same name.

‘Lupe Fiasco’s Food & Liquor’ (2008) by Lupe Fiasco

Notable Line: “I think the world and everything in it / Is made up of a mix, of two things / You got your good, y’know, and your bad / You got your food, and your liquor.”

Life, as the play presents it, is challenging, messy and full of love and beauty. This experience of life is true everywhere and broadening the play’s cultural scope only makes it a more complete and true picture.

“Making this multilingual … makes it very relatable for a lot of people and makes it more universal,” George Gibbs understudy Alex Mao (26C) said. “The idea of cherishing life is not just for Americans or for English speakers, but also for Spanish speakers or Mandarin speakers or the whole world.”

As per Wilder’s original stage notes, sets and props are very minimal; about a dozen chairs lined the stage and were the primary set and prop pieces of the play. The absence of sets and props compe lled the audience to focus on the characters of the play. The story focuses on movement and space as a way to build relationships among the characters. This emphasis on gesture connects to the multilingual aspects of the play as well.

“There are some moments in the play where I do not care what language they are speaking,” Hannah said. “It is very clear what is happening. When the moment is flushed, you really don’t need to know what they’re saying.”

Supertitles above the stage area projected each line translated into

English, Spanish and Mandarin. I ended up focusing less on understanding the meaning of each word, but rather recognizing the body language and tone associated with the words.

At the end of Act I, Emily speaks to her father (Cristian Gonzalez) as she gazes at the moon from her window. Language wasn’t necessary to understand the tenderness between the father and daughter—the weight of the moment as Emily grows into an adult.

Hannah and Fort both emphasized this production as the beginning of a new way to think about this play.

“Regardless of how far the end result reads, I think that we have explored a lot of things that can be used going forward for other productions,” Hannah said.

However future theaters might use this production of “Our Town,” it remains a stunning adaptation—a love letter of life to the Emory community. One of my favorite moments of the play was when George and Emily look out their windows at the moon while a choir sings in the distance. As the two children come of age, we are allowed to revel in the wonder of small joys. Life might be chaotic, but the moon is always shining.

— Contact Bridget Mackie at bridget.mackie@emory.edu

Eythen’s Blu-ray emporium: documentaries by Black filmmakers

By eythen anthony A&E Editor

A story deserves to be told, Doesn’t matter if it’s new or old. We won’t disappear, We’ll always be here, Remembered as the brave and bold.

Documentaries can be glimpses of forgotten pasts as well as dives into the shocking, saddening, but often beautiful, moments of today. I’ve always had a soft spot for documentaries, not only as someone with an avid craving for knowledge, but also due to a love for the human experience. The genre gives viewers the chance to deeply connect with the films’ subjects, finding similarities, as well as recognizing differences; highlighting our own individuality.

Black Horror’ (2019)

In the spring of 2018, director Jordan Peele won the Academy Award for best original screenplay for his directorial debut “Get Out” (2017), making history as the first Black man to win the award. Peele’s win, along with the critical acclaim of the film, marked a significant moment for horror films created by Black producers and actors, opening the genre to the public and inviting Black filmmakers to tell their scary stories. Although horror films such as “His House” (2019) and series like “Lovecraft Country” have furthered the genre’s impact, the movement has had its fair share of highs and lows throughout history. And, it’s this framing that introduces us to the 2019 documentary “Horror Noire.”

‘Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are Black Star’ (1998) by Black Star

Notable Line: “I find it distressin’ there’s never no in between / we either n—--s or kings, we either b—--s or queens.”

‘Fear of a Black Planet’ (1990) by Public Enemy

Notable Line: “Most of my heroes don’t appear on no stamps.”

Choosing a Public Enemy album to discuss political hip-hop is no easy

The collaboration of two quintessential conscious, East-coast rappers jumps out of the speakers on “Black Star.” Talib Kweli and Mos Def are well-respected New York MCs, each regarded in their own right. The duo flows off each other’s energy like the

In the late 2000s, hip-hop was a burgeoning force, taking over American culture with bonafide stars like 50 Cent, Ye and Jay-Z. Lupe Fiasco represented the genre much differently in his music, paying homage to the less-mainstream voices of the Black community, or as Fiasco calls them on the album, the “traveling band of misfits and outcasts” who “nod they heads from Misfits to OutKast.”

“Food & Liquor” is a brilliant debut album speaking to the young, New York adolescents kicking and pushing their skateboards to escape adult problems.

From racial degradation to food insecurity to lack of parental guidance, Fiasco tells his story through the narrative of a disheartened but persistent

When I first began this article, my focus was going to be on simply Black character-driven documentaries, such as “Hoop Dreams” (1994). However, as I began researching and writing my first draft, I realized that a lot of the films I was talking about were directed by white people. I don’t think this negates their significance, but I believe there is an importance to having Black stories present in front of the camera as well as being orchestrated behind the camera.

Here are three of my favorite documentaries that highlight the emotions and experiences of Black peoplesubjects through the lenses of Black filmmakers.

‘Horror Noire: A History of

Directed by Xavier Burgin, “Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror” explores Black representation in the genre, from its beginnings in the early 20th century to reappearing tropes like the non-white character being the first one to die. Based on a book of the same name, the documentary gives a chronological look at the films that influenced Black horror with commentary from critics as well as impactful actors and directors who equally impacted the genre, such as Tony Todd, Rachel True, Ernest R. Dickerson and many more.

A majority of the horror commentary takes place inside a movie theater, where pairs and trios sit together to discuss the influence of certain films as well as facts about the production. This format was an interesting deci-