FELA KUTI'S LOVER AND MENTOR SANDRA SMITH TALKS ABOUT AFROBEAT'S L.A. ORIGINS, AS FELA! MUSICAL ARRIVES AT THE AHMANSON

Sandra Smith and Fela Kuti, when they were together in 1969-70

Sandra Smith and Fela Kuti, when they were together in 1969-70

Published in LA Weekly, December 13, 2011

At the time of his death in 1997, Fela Anikulapo Kuti was known by many names: Afrobeat pioneer, a political instigator, husband to 27 wives, just to name a few. The Nigerian musician had spread his fiery brand of African party music around the world, serving up biting social commentary sugar-coated with blasting horns, slithering Rhodes keyboards and undulating beats that ignited global dance floors. His incredible life is chronicled in the critically acclaimed Broadway musical Fela! — opening at the Ahmanson theater this week — which follows Fela's rise to musical prominence, acerbic political criticism and his deadly clashes with the Nigerian government. But before Fela became an international phenomenon, it was here in Los Angeles that Fela found his sound and vision.

Fela and his band came to Los Angeles in 1969 as just another international act, and left in 1970 ready for revolution. Musician and social activist Sandra Smith (now Izsadore) witnessed it all first hand. She was Fela's guide, teacher and lover while he stayed in the City of Angels. “Sandra gave me the education I wanted to know,” Fela told author Micheal Veal. “She was the one who opened my eyes. For the first time I heard things I'd never heard before about Africa! Sandra was my adviser. She talked to me about politics, history. She taught me what she knew and what she knew was enough for me to start on.”

LA Weekly recently caught up with Sandra to talk about Fela's L.A. days and his evolution to becoming an African icon.

Describe that first time you saw Fela Kuti.

It was [jazz musician] Juno Lewis who had insisted that I come with him to see this group form Nigeria. I was somewhat apprehensive, but Juno was so insistent that I see this group that he came and picked me up. We went to the Ambassador hotel for a NAACP event. I looked up on the stage, and Fela was looking down, and there was an immediate connection.

I was sitting at the table, enjoying the party, and Juno came over when the band had an intermission, and Juno said that someone wanted to meet me. So when I went to the bar, Fela was there. Juno was instrumental in making that happen, and might I add, my life has never been the same since.

What was that first conversation like?

It was very raw. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Do you have a car?” And I said yes, and he says, “Good, you're going with me.” Just like that. We got together that day and we were together until he left.

I laughed because I was the one with the car, so I thought that he was cocky and somewhat arrogant. He was different than any of the other African student that I had met. So the curiosity set in.

Where was he staying?

Inglewood. There was this man named Morris, and he had extended his home to them. Then the situation changed, so my parents had this back house that no one lived in, so my parents said they wanted to help. So Fela and the band were housed for back there. It was August of '69 when I met him, and they were here since I think maybe March of '69. Then they had to leave because there was a disgruntled Nigerian man who brought them here from Nigeria, and all that he said he was going to do for them fell through. It was Americans who came in to the rescue. The generosity of African Americans here [was] how Fela and the band could stay here. Everyone was trying to help them stay in the country. We saw them as our brethren.

Tell us about the Citadel de Haiti and that series of shows Fela's band played there.

It was the club of Bernie Hamilton, the brother of Chico Hamilton, the jazz musician. Bernie was an actor and he had this club, The Citadel De Haiti. It was at 6666 Sunset. They don't even have that place anymore, the address itself is even gone.

It was great club, just no clientele, so he hired Fela to come in, and he paid him under the table. In a little bit of no time, that club was packed. Everybody knew that there was this great Nigerian band who was just off the chain.

What was Los Angeles like back then?

This was a time that African Americans were becoming aware of ourselves. Everyone was embracing Africa at this time. Everyone was wearing dashiki's and James Brown sang “I'm black and I'm proud, say it loud.” That was all going down, so there was this positive energy. And of course, it was the dawning of the age of Aquarius. Hair was playing at a theater across the street from the Palladium, where the Nickelodean studios are today. The cast would come over and hang out at Bernie's place after they did their show. It was such a revolutionary time here in Los Angeles.

What was your relationship like with Fela?

I was in love. From the time we met, we connected on a very strong level. We were together constantly in L.A. And remember, I had a car. I was really good to make sure he made his concerts and stuff.

It was really exciting when he auditioned for Disneyland. I was like, “ooh, a free trip to Disneyland!” I was so excited, but at the end of the day, I was disappointed.

Disneyland told Fela that he wasn't playing African music. They wanted him to play in Adventureland.

They had thought he played just stereotypical African music, like what they have on the Small World ride?

They thought he was going to be something else, and they said that he wasn't playing African music at all. How do you tell an African man, playing African rhythms who had studied African music, that he is not playing African music? Crazy. So that was Disneyland.

He broke down these notions of what Africa is. He represented an urban Africa.

That's what was so impressive about him. He was the real first urban African man I met. Everyone else came from rural areas. He was different.

What were your conversations like?

He would talk about Africa and I'd tell him about America. Meeting him, I was under the impression that I was going to learn everything I needed to know about Africa. Not knowing that I would be teaching him. I didn't know at I was teaching him anything. At that time, this stuff was just common knowledge. I had been attending the Nation of Islam under Elijah Muhammad, and I had attended the Black Panther Party and SNCC [Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee] through school. Through those organizations that I [gained] different knowledge, and I shared that knowledge with Fela. He was learning from me, without me being aware that I was teaching.

At that time, I had learned about all the great African kings and all that. Because I hadn't learned it in school, I hadn't learned it in church, and my parent had hidden the ugly truth of America. When I became aware, I became very angry. I couldn't understand inequality. So I was like, we can change this.

How did this knowledge affect Fela's music?

When I heard Fela's music, after we had been spending time together. I heard them rehearse, and I liked it, but I had no idea what he was saying. So I asked him, “Fela, what are you saying?” He said he was singing about his soup. He was singing about nothing. I laughed and I said, “That doesn't make sense, you should use your music to educate. You should write songs that have meaning.” I was looking for African pride, and I looked to my own African King, and he told me that there was no pride in Africa, at that time. I was shocked.

When H.B. Barnum, the music director for [original Rat Pack member] Joey Bishop's TV show, and Duke Lumumba brought him in for the 1969 sessions, Fela started writing music that had some meaning for his people. When he went back [to Nigeria], he was a changed person. It wasn't until 1976 that I learned that it was [because of] the books that I had given him and that knowledge he came into at my mother's home.

All that time I thought that Fela had taught me about the world, but he told me that I, in fact, had taught him.

What happened after Fela left Los Angeles?

It took me ten years for me to get over Fela. I wasn't about to be part of his harem. When I met him he had one wife, but when he left the planet he had 27. He married them in one day! I was very fortunate to say that I had the opportunity to live at [Fela's Nigerian compound] Kalakuta too. It was a party every day. I was there in '76, I lived there for three or four months.

Then I tried to untie myself emotionally from Fela, so then I moved to England, where I got tied up in a new kind of music. Reggae. Back then, it was just the Wailers, so I partied with Bob Marley. By the time I had gone through everything with Fela, I knew that with Bob Marley, it was time to stay back.

Ryan Gosling on "Lars and the Real Girl"

Published in Flaunt Magazine 2008

In a small community, a young man pushes a wheelchair in which rests the upright, silicon body of a sex doll named Bianca. As the title character, Gosling portrays a delusional and socially awkward milquetoast, who channels his loneliness and ameliorates his emotional paralysis with the silent words of a synthetic woman. As Lars slowly breaks from his chrysalis of introversion, Gosling’s performance—made affecting more because of his silences that his words—emerges as the keystone that holds the film together. The plot could have easily been led into the realm of unbelievability. But with each constrained gesture, overactive blink, and nervous stutter, you fall headfirst into the world that Lars built.

“We’re all good and bad people, so I’m interested in characters that have a light and dark side. Bianca is [Lar’s] way to light a match into his abyss. He has a lot of love and nowhere to put it.” –Ryan Gosling.

Anne Hathaway on the dark heart of "Rachel Getting Married"

Published at Metromix September 30, 2008

Anne Hathaway just wants attention.

Scratch that. Hathaway’s character in the new dramedy “Rachel Getting Married” just wants attention, any way she can get it: drug use, impulsive sex, complete disregard for her family.

Hathaway delivers an emotional and captivating performance as the film’s central figure, Kym, creating a sarcastic, self-centered and utterly real person on screen. It’s also one more step in the actress’ concerted effort to break down the façade of the “good girl” persona established by her early work in Disney’s “The Princess Diaries” franchise.

Metromix caught up with the star of diverse hits including “The Devil Wears Prada” and “Brokeback Mountain” for a discussion about love, drugs and AC/DC.

Hi Anne. You’re looking very fashionable today.

I was in my Glamosaurus Rex outfit earlier, but now I’m a little bit more comfy. [She’s wearing a T-Shirt and jeans] Please don’t out me. Tell everyone I’m wearing Chanel or something.

Your character in “Rachel Getting Married” is highly dysfunctional and kind of a mess. Were you looking for a role that would create a different image for you?

No. When I took this role I thought, “oh what a great opportunity” just as an actress, not “what a great chance to shake up this perspective of me.” I don’t consider my whole body of work whenever I think about accepting a movie. And Meryl [Streep] said it best—as Meryl often does—you do the best work you can in the roles that are available to you.

What did you do to prepare for the role?

I went to a lot of AA meetings. In [a Venice film festival] interview, someone asked me in a very leading way if I knew anyone in recovery. So I asked [the journalists in the room] to look at each other and said, “If you are not in recovery or you aren’t related to someone in recovery raise your hand.” And no one raised a hand. Addiction is something that connects us all.

One of Rachel’s big moments comes when she toasts her sister. Are you a good toast giver at weddings?I am a heartfelt toast-giver. It doesn’t always mean I’m clever, but it does mean that everything I say does come from the heart.

“I think that love has a dark side, and I love that this movie explores it and doesn’t try to judge it or presuppose that love and darkness come in the exclusion of each other. Cause that’s life.”

This film has several interracial couples including the newlyweds, Sidney (Tunde Adebimpe) and Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt), but there is no special attention paid to their race. Do you think that America is “post-race”?

I am, and I think that my friends are. The family [in the movie] certainly is. If you look at the Democratic National Convention, that certainly was. The Republican Convention…not so much. I do think that we are much further along on that then we ever have been.

Adebimpe is better known as the lead singer of TV on the Radio. What’s it like working with musician actors?

I started listening to TV on the Radio when I learned that Tunde was going to be in the movie. They’re a great band. I don’t think that it affects working in the scene, but ultimately you can get some great adds to your iTunes. It was really cool for the scene where he sings a Neil Young song to Rachel. His pitch was perfect. The song was originally supposed to be “You Shook Me All Night Long,” by AC/DC but it was too expensive.

What do you think “Rachel Getting Married” says about love?

I think that love has a dark side, and I love that this movie explores it and doesn’t try to judge it or presuppose that love and darkness come in the exclusion of each other. Cause that’s life. And I am very open to that idea. Jenny [Lumet] wrote the script and she said that Kym is the loneliest character in the world. I played the character and it never occurred to me that that was who she was. I think that [Kym’s] relationship with Kieran [Mather Zickel, who plays a recovering addict] is as romantic as it is a godsend. He is someone who looks at her and actually sees her.


Should we feel sorry for Kym?

It doesn’t matter what I feel. One of my favorite things about Kym is that people perceive her one way, but she knows herself better than anyone else. She knows the dark, 3 AM version of her soul.

Martín Piroyansky on the "brave" choice to star in "XXY"

Martin-Piroyansky.jpg

Published Artist Direct August 20, 2008.

“XXY” is a rare gem of a film. It is sharply cut, meticulously polished, and completely one of a kind. The Argentine film tells the story of Alex, a 15-year-old with an unusual secret: she is both a boy and a girl. Amid the beautiful landscapes of coastal Uruguay, “XXY” weaves the lives of Alex’s family, the community, and a family visiting from Argentina into a captivating exploration into love, sexuality, and identity.

With emotional performances by Inés Efron as the fiery Alex, Ricardo Darín as her strong and loving father, and Martín Piroyansky as Alex’s starcrossed lover Álvaro, the film won the Critic’s Week grand prize at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival.

For more on this intensely unique film, we recently called Martín Piroyansky in Argentina and chatted about intersexuality, homosexuality, and all kinds of sexuality.

Martín, what drew you to this particular film?

I think it is a very brave movie, because in Argentina this kind of movie is very rare. There’s a lot of action and there’s something happening all the time, and I really like that. It’s more similar to [American] Cinema.

Why do you think the movie is brave, and what is the view of homosexuality in Argentina?

I think Argentina is very ambiguous; it’s okay to be gay, but not really. I don’t believe people when they say that they think it’s okay. People know that they have to be okay with it, but they aren’t really okay with it. Since I was a kid I [have] always had gay friends, but it’s not common for Argentina, for the whole country.

How did you explain the film to your friends when you got the part?

It was pretty funny. I was shooting the film and talking to a friend of mine about it, and he said, “Wait, you’re making a comedy right?” And I told him that it wasn’t a comedy, it was a serious movie. But he said, “But it’s about an intersexual girl, how could it be serious?” He was right. It could be like a comedy or it could be like the way it is.

Making jokes can be a way to deal with something that is difficult. How did you make the movie without making fun of the condition?

I always make jokes of difficult situations, and yes, it’s a defense. I watch the movie and I see this teenager with all his struggles and he is like a clown for me. All the people are mistreating him all the time, and he doesn’t do anything. He’s in love. And even the girl mistreats him. It’s kind of funny really. This guy falls in love with this girl that ends up being a guy.

“He is suffering.
He loves her.
He doesn’t mind if she’s a girl or a boy.”

But the film is really tragic love story. What do you think the movie says about love?

It has a dark message. The girl is a victim of what the village people say and that’s why she can’t really be in love with Álvaro. Because she believes that Álvaro is in love with her strange condition, but we know that he is really in love. He is suffering. He loves her. He doesn’t mind if she’s a girl or a boy. Then in the last scene where he says to her that he loves her. She says, “No. Do you like me or do you like to watch my thing?” He loves her and cries. For the first time a guy is in love with her, and she can’t see it.

Your character, Álvaro, is at the cusp of becoming a man. He’s a teenager and he’s learning about his own sexuality through the reflection of Alex. How does the movie challenge the typical view of what it means to be a man?

I don’t know if it’s about becoming a man, but it’s more about coming to accept our sexuality, whatever it is. The girl, in the search of herself, has to come to terms with the fact that her indecision has consequences. She has to decide whether she will become a boy.