Journalist at RFI (ex-DW, BBC, CBC, F24...), writer (on art, music, culture...), I work in radio, podcasting, online, on films.
As a writer, I also contributed to the New Arab, Art UK, Byline Times, the i Paper...
Born in Paris, I was based in Prague, Miami, London, Nairobi (covering East Africa), Bangui, and in Bristol, UK. I also reported from Italy, Germany, Haiti, Tunisia, Liberia, Senegal, India, Mexico, Iraq, South Africa...
This blog is to share my work, news and cultural discoveries.
Mimesis: African Soldier by John Akomfrah uncovers the undiscussed story of the Commonwealth soldiers who volunteered to fight in World War I: the war of their colonial masters.
Akomfrah blends archive imagery of African and Asian soldiers at work, digging trenches and fetching and carrying with original, newly filmed footage imagining the men as they leave their partners behind.
With a soundtrack that mixes African and Indian song with new compositions, John Akomfrah paints a vivid cinematic portrait of a forgotten, or overlooked history.
“The most important thing for me, the takeaway, is that African soldiers fought in this war, that they played a variety of roles in the war as foot soldiers, as carriers. Every facet, every avenue, every job in the war, if you look long enough, you will see someone of either Asian or African origin/heritage in that role.” – John Akomfrah
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The film is 73 minutes long.
Mimesis: African Soldier was commissioned by 14-18 NOW and shown at the Imperial War Museum to mark the centenary of World War I. Bristol Museum & Art Gallery jointly acquired the film in partnership with Glasgow Museums in 2019. The exhibition is sponsored by UWE Bristol.
Now that both Facebook and Twitter are so irrelevant, old-fashioned blogging looks like a safer space for self-expression.
As we enter the last two months of the year, the impression, looking back, for a journalist and writer focusing on the Global South and North/South relations, culture and multiculturalism, migrations and human rights, it wasn't a great year to say the least.
To make things worse, on a personal level, it was quite a difficult one, health-wise firstly, and secondly with the heartbreak of witnessing the spiralling downfall of my second nation, Britain.
I've been writing a lot more on arts and writers in the past six months, in order to foster hope and solutions more than negative news, and you know how heavy the latest has been since the start of the war in Ukraine.
We all thought that recovering from the Covid crisis would be hard, but we couldn't imagine it would be this hard... The climate crisis has been seriously aggravated by the war, drought, hunger, and more health crises are striking the South, while the North is in serious recession coupled with high inflation and people's panic.
On Wednesday, I was invited to give a lecture to master's students in Paris, on an important news story, and I chose to speak about the state of Europe, through the lens of the post-Brexit British crisis, and this week hasn't helped anyhow. It would be too long to summarise here the talk I gave though I wish I could...
What makes things harder is to have lost the support of so many people this year too.
Many have had their own difficulties to deal with, I admit. And I hope one or two will eventually reappear. But for most others I don't even know where to start when it comes to fathom the rift....
Meanwhile, the state of the media, especially in France, really worries me.
As I hate being negative, and my brain is wired for idealism, I will try hard to come back with better news.
In the meantime, I'll focus on art and cinema history, creativity and resistance to all forms of fascism...
I'll be in England soon and hope for some heartwarming reunion.
Friendship is more important than ever.
While I'm in Blighty, good luck to the ones getting reading to cover these mid term elections in the US.
A new installation of 140 blocks of wood summons up a forgotten history, writes Melissa Chemam.
Laid out on the stone courtyard of London's Somerset House, like the fossilised remains of a whale, there is the outline of a slave ship. Made up of 140 blocks of charred wood, it is O Barco / The Boat by Grada Kilomba, a Portuguese writer and interdisciplinary artist of African descent (from Sao Tome and Angola). Forming the shape of the bottom of a boat, the piece references the slave ships that carried for centuries millions of Africans, enslaved by European empires. The blocks also contain poems in six different languages, inscribed on the surface. "Addressing the history of European maritime expansion and colonisation, the piece invites the audience to consider forgotten stories and identities," the curators explain; the civil administration responsible for the British Royal Navy was once based at Somerset House.
Happy to announce that I'll be participating to the festival Afrika Eye in Bristol in November 2022:
“Afrika Eye 2022 is in our sights"We’re back for our 16th edition of the festival with a programme jam-packed with films, dance, music, food, panel discussions and a stunning photography exhibition. Artists from across Africa and within the diaspora bring insights, creative ideas and extraordinary projects, which broaden and enrich our knowledge of a continent that has for centuries been part of our shared histories without ever having an equal voice – ‘Untold Stories’ gives artists a platform to tell it how it is.
Annie Menter Festival Director
Art & Activism
Tuesday 8th November 6:30pm
Cinema Room (G.H01), 3-5 Woodland Road.
University of Bristol
BS8 1US
Ouméma paints graffiti, Chaima dances, Shams performs slam poetry. Three young women, of the Tunisian revolution, who share the struggle for women’s freedom in their country. They lead a peaceful fight, through their practice, with the street as their stage, they aim to recapture this space, largely occupied by men in Tunisia. Their commitment to their art means that their daily lives fluctuate between fear, hope, creativity and a thirst for freedom.
We will be joined by director Caroline Péricard, journalist Melissa Chemam, documentary protagonist Oumema and young film students for a post-screening discussion.
Chair: Professor Siobhan Shilton.
This event is a partnership between UoB, Future Cities and Boomsatsuma
The lyrics to Baraye by Shervin Hajipour are taken from ordinary Iranians voicing their anger in the wake of Mahsa Amini’s death
As demonstrations against the death of Mahsa Amini enter their third week in Iran, a protest song by one of Iran’s most popular musicians has become the soundtrack to the biggest civil uprising for decades, channelling the rage of Iranians at home and abroad.
The lyrics to Baraye by Shervin Hajipour are taken entirely from messages that Iranians have posted online about why they are protesting. Each begins with the word Baraye – meaning “For …” or “Because of …” in Farsi.
Hajipour released the song online last week and it quickly went viral, being viewed millions of times across various platforms. Videos show the song being sung by schoolgirls in Iran, blared from car windows in Tehran and played at solidarity protests inWashington, Strasbourgand London this weekend.
Hajipour, 25, was reportedly arrested on 29 September, days after the song was released. According to messages posted on Twitter by Hajipour’s sister and reverified by Human Rights Watch, the intelligence services in Mazandaran province called Hajipour’s parents and informed them of his arrest on 1 October.
Sources close to Hajipour believe the singer was made to remove the song from Instagram when he was arrested. It has since been registered as having been written by someone else, allowing copyright infringement complaints to be made, resulting in the song being removed by platforms it had been uploaded to. However, the song has already been widely shared and continues to be uploaded by users on YouTube.
“This [song] has broken Persian social media tonight. So many of us have cried listening to it over and over. The artist Shervin Hajipour has summed up the deep national sadness and pain Iranians have been feeling for decades, culminating in the tragedy of #MahsaAmini,” BBC correspondent Bahman Kalbasi said.
(...)
In the song, Hajipour sings lyrics such as, “For dancing in the streets, for kissing loved ones” and “for women, life, freedom”, a chant synonymous with the wave of protests following Amini’s death.
The lyrics to Baraye reflect widespread anger and misery, just as Amini’s death was the tipping point for many after the regime engaged in a concerted crackdown on alleged anti-Islamic activity. Enforcement has included the heightened presence of guidance patrol – also known as morality police – on the streets.
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English Translation:
For the sake of dancing in the street
For the fear in the moment of kissing
For my sister, your sister, our sisters
For changing the eroded brains
For the shame, For the poverty
For the yearning for a normal life
For the sake of the poor child that searches in the garbage, and their dreams
For this authoritarian economy
For this polluted air
For Vali-'asr and the withered trees
For Piruz and his probable extinction
For the innocent forbidden dogs
For the non-stop crying
For the dream of reminiscing about this moment in history
For a laughing face
For the students, For the future
For this mandatory “paradise”
For the imprisoned intellectuals
For the Afghan children
For all of this, For the lack of repetition
For all this hollow slogans
For the ruins of these badly-built houses
For the feeling of peace and tranquility
For the sun after long nights
For the mental illness pills and insomnia
For men, fatherland, prosperity
For the sake of the girl that wished she was a boy
