Annita
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Wonderful article in Los Angeles Review of Books
http://lareviewofbooks.org/essay/dancing-with-michael-jackson/#.VVYQTGWdQoo.twitter
Dancing with Michael Jackson by Toni Bowers
Baltimore and its discontents
May 14th, 2015
image: Dimitri Reeves in Baltimore, April, 2015.
Come and see, when moon is shining.
Come and see, the moon is walking.
Come and see, the moon is dancing.
— Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Got a feeling that we’re gonna raise the roof off!
Everybody just get down!
— Michael Jackson
BY NOW, videos of Dimitri Reeves dancing in various parts of Baltimore to the strains of Michael Jackson’s music have been watched millions of times. In the best-known clip, filmed by reporter Shomari Stone, Reeves delights startled spectators when, with “Beat It” blaring out from the curb, he unexpectedly starts floating down a littered street, mimicking Jackson’s jubilant, angry dance moves and bringing caution to an incendiary moment.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_YHF7rzQsc
Don’t want to see no blood, don’t be a macho man. They’ll kick you, they’ll beat you, they’ll tell you it’s fair, so [lexicon]Beat it[/lexicon].
On his Facebook page Reeves asked that viewers of the videos not parse out too minutely the possible significance of the lyrics he chose to dance to — “Beat It,” “Smooth Criminal,” “Will You Be There,” “Black or White,” and others. “I just wanted to dance,” he says. It was a superb instinct. When Reeves turned up the volume and reanimated magical steps from long ago, shared joy became present in the angry, grieving city, and the city responded. Individuals, knots of young men, and eventually, large crowds began jamming alongside Reeves, determination and joy written unmistakably on their faces. A strange, unexpected beauty materializes before our eyes, and we glimpse another Baltimore, very different from the media images — a city finding a way to heal from within.
On the same day as Reeves’s first videotaped dance, I was pacing around an expensive “specialty” grocery in Philadelphia. The muzak must have been buzzing away unnoticed until suddenly there it was: the air filled with an ageless, raucous beat, and “Thriller” came on. In an instant, everyone was moving. [lexicon]The Man[/lexicon] slicing the meat swayed ever so slightly left and right. The face of the armed guard at the entrance (the only person of color in the store) softened; he began to nod. A woman near me paused and gazed away. Feet tapped. For a mysterious instant, something that we needed and had lost became present again.
It was a great moment, but there was something missing, too. Though everyone responded to the music, it was with an odd furtiveness — not openly, communally, or with the infectious jubilation going on in Baltimore. No eyes met, no one laughed or sang, no one moved without restraint or melted into the beat. Another song came on. We went back to shuffling behind our carts and examining artisan cheeses. Nothing changed.
I’ve been thinking ever since about those two scenes which, different as they were, had one thing in common: Michael Jackson. Dimitri Reeves could have chosen to play a thousand more recent and hip tracks than “Beat It,” but his choice to dance to Jackson’s tune was unerring. For perhaps more than any other entertainer, Michael Jackson deliberately constructed his music as a gift of hope and healing. Song after song offers a uniquely compassionate vision, a stubborn belief in human capacities for connection, pleasure, and justice-making. Do those ideals seem canned or quaint to you? Does the notion that music can rearrange the world seem far-fetched? I have tended to think so myself. But the shimmering moments Reeves created in Baltimore suggest otherwise.
http://lareviewofbooks.org/essay/dancing-with-michael-jackson/#.VVYQTGWdQoo.twitter
Dancing with Michael Jackson by Toni Bowers
Baltimore and its discontents
May 14th, 2015
image: Dimitri Reeves in Baltimore, April, 2015.
Come and see, when moon is shining.
Come and see, the moon is walking.
Come and see, the moon is dancing.
— Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Got a feeling that we’re gonna raise the roof off!
Everybody just get down!
— Michael Jackson
BY NOW, videos of Dimitri Reeves dancing in various parts of Baltimore to the strains of Michael Jackson’s music have been watched millions of times. In the best-known clip, filmed by reporter Shomari Stone, Reeves delights startled spectators when, with “Beat It” blaring out from the curb, he unexpectedly starts floating down a littered street, mimicking Jackson’s jubilant, angry dance moves and bringing caution to an incendiary moment.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_YHF7rzQsc
Don’t want to see no blood, don’t be a macho man. They’ll kick you, they’ll beat you, they’ll tell you it’s fair, so [lexicon]Beat it[/lexicon].
On his Facebook page Reeves asked that viewers of the videos not parse out too minutely the possible significance of the lyrics he chose to dance to — “Beat It,” “Smooth Criminal,” “Will You Be There,” “Black or White,” and others. “I just wanted to dance,” he says. It was a superb instinct. When Reeves turned up the volume and reanimated magical steps from long ago, shared joy became present in the angry, grieving city, and the city responded. Individuals, knots of young men, and eventually, large crowds began jamming alongside Reeves, determination and joy written unmistakably on their faces. A strange, unexpected beauty materializes before our eyes, and we glimpse another Baltimore, very different from the media images — a city finding a way to heal from within.
On the same day as Reeves’s first videotaped dance, I was pacing around an expensive “specialty” grocery in Philadelphia. The muzak must have been buzzing away unnoticed until suddenly there it was: the air filled with an ageless, raucous beat, and “Thriller” came on. In an instant, everyone was moving. [lexicon]The Man[/lexicon] slicing the meat swayed ever so slightly left and right. The face of the armed guard at the entrance (the only person of color in the store) softened; he began to nod. A woman near me paused and gazed away. Feet tapped. For a mysterious instant, something that we needed and had lost became present again.
It was a great moment, but there was something missing, too. Though everyone responded to the music, it was with an odd furtiveness — not openly, communally, or with the infectious jubilation going on in Baltimore. No eyes met, no one laughed or sang, no one moved without restraint or melted into the beat. Another song came on. We went back to shuffling behind our carts and examining artisan cheeses. Nothing changed.
I’ve been thinking ever since about those two scenes which, different as they were, had one thing in common: Michael Jackson. Dimitri Reeves could have chosen to play a thousand more recent and hip tracks than “Beat It,” but his choice to dance to Jackson’s tune was unerring. For perhaps more than any other entertainer, Michael Jackson deliberately constructed his music as a gift of hope and healing. Song after song offers a uniquely compassionate vision, a stubborn belief in human capacities for connection, pleasure, and justice-making. Do those ideals seem canned or quaint to you? Does the notion that music can rearrange the world seem far-fetched? I have tended to think so myself. But the shimmering moments Reeves created in Baltimore suggest otherwise.
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