Style Notes from a Native Son
On a chilly Friday night in Manhattan, in the middle of February, I walked 60-some blocks from a Chinese noodle shop after a visit to MoMA, to an independent cinema on Houston Street in SoHo. Film Forum is a member-financed New York treasure that shows not only new independent releases, but undersung classic films and cult favorites. At 9:00 PM, the theater was full, since it’s still an early hour for most New Yorkers.
The other reason this Friday night showing was so packed is because the evening's screenings included Raoul Peck’s brilliant documentary "I Am Not Your Negro," which chronicled late author James Baldwin’s draft of a book about three slain Civil Rights leaders, a book he never got around to finishing before his death in 1987. Though Samuel L. Jackson’s deep and solemn narration isn’t quite a dead ringer for Baldwin’s articulate tenor timbre - the movie begins with a clip of a 1978 television interview, where Baldwin unfortunately has to defend himself against the naivety of the white interviewer about racial relations - his delivery is poignant, and he makes Baldwin’s words, written almost four decades ago, come alive. Such a task is easy, because what the film shows is that Baldwin’s writings were prescient. Intertwined with imagery from protests in Ferguson, Missouri, and other towns where young black Americans have lost their lives to police brutality, they sound as if they could have been written today.
James Baldwin in "I Am Not Your Negro."
Look at the cover of Baldwin’s first collection of essays, 1955’s Notes of a Native Son, and it’s clear that he dresses as well as he speaks. Photographed moments reveal that Baldwin dressed to express whatever mood he was feeling or his attitude toward the situation he was in. In shots where Baldwin looks the most himself, without the eye of the press directly on him, he’s found sporting printed scarves - tied under his shirt collar in place of a tie - and oversized sunglasses. His off-duty clothes often mixed dark blues with tan and cream hues, and these soft and bold tones channeled Baldwin’s humble authoritativeness. Never was Baldwin the man and Baldwin the intellectual overshadowed by Baldwin the dresser, but the combination of his sharp clothes and sharp tongue helped his ability to expose veiled truths surrounding race relations and faux progressivism. He looked believable and spoke in a believable tone; fifty years later his words, believable from the get-go, ring truer than ever. Baldwin wasn't omniscient, but he was ahead of his time, both in looks and thought.
Watching "I Am Not Your Negro" and reading Notes are imperative in this day and age, a time where we struggle with the fact that we haven’t made major progress toward racial equality since the Civil Rights movement, and any gains achieved are in danger of being undone. They are harsh and necessary reminders of the divided world we live in and help people understand our own blindnesses and prejudice, because we all carry them with us no matter how much they're denied. Baldwin makes readers face these difficult truths through his intelligent and colloquial style, in a manner that's informative and educating without being didactic. The introduction to Baldwin’s taste in clothing is an added bonus and much like the subjects he covered, he’s an unsung (style) hero who deserves his due.