A Diasporic Reflection on Land and Water

Photo by
Dinah deSpenza

Influenced by Shamanism, Jazz, the Graphic School of NY, Dada and Gutenberg's moveable type, multi-disciplinary media artist and CSUEB alumna, Rozita Fogelman makes waves at Oakland’s FLOAT Gallery this fall.

Using the elements of earth, land, and water, Fogelman, maps water histories with art as she presents – a visual history of water, land and people at the FLOAT Gallery.

FLOAT, an urban art spa is the only floatation center art gallery in the San Francisco Bay Area.

“In Hebrew, ומים אדמה ,דם ,אדם  adam, dam, adama and maiem; translated as human, blood, land and water – all share the same root. My series, Body, Land and Water is my attempt to create a space addressing the need to reconnect the link between art, language, people, land and water. I want to create a connection between the past collective ideas and the archetypal symbols and our current culture, a grounding place where one can reconnect with the original concept and structure of balance,” says Fogelman.

Grace Munakata, Professor of Pictorial Art at CSUEB says, “Rozita believes the distractions of our multi-tasking culture need balance, and hopes to create a quiet, interactive space where viewers can respond to the artwork in a meditative manner, perhaps reminding us of our actual connection and dependence on elements of earth and water, and of our collective consciousness as a society.”

“Such a feast for the eyes.  Her work is beautiful, says Jan Martinez, Administrative Support Coordinator, CSUEB Art Department.

 “Absolutely stunning, I love it,” says Raquel Arcia, Graduate Coordinate of CSUEB Multimedia Department.

Having pioneered a unique Interdisciplinary Master program between the Multimedia, Communications and Art Studio practice, Fogelman earned her M.A. in Multimedia Disciplinary Media Arts in spring of 2011.

Originally from Tbilisi, Georgia, the Russian born artist sees visual communication as her first language out of five.

Her life long diasporic journey between her dislocated identities was the driving force of her fascination to express through art.

As a feminist, her life long dedication to create art professionally came from a need for free speech and expression.

“In Russia, my family suffered from violent outbreaks of anti-Semitism. I witnessed many of the events of Jews being attacked. In 1969, when I was 5 years old, the Russian KGB arrested my father, sentencing him for five-years in a Siberia jail. The agony of the trip to visit him in a jail in 1971 will remain with me forever. After the rumors spread about my father being sent away, I fell victim to assault and was abused by the neighborhood children. My early childhood was plagued with fear, betrayal and insecurity,” says Fogelman.

According to Samuel Beckett, one of the most influential writers of the 20^th century, “The fundamental tension between human frailty and the expressive instinct of human culture has never kept humans from seeking refuge in art and turning to it to try to comprehend tragedy.” 

In 1975, her family left Russia immigrating to Israel, and settled down in the mountains of Jerusalem, Mevaseret Zion.

In Jerusalem she studied Hebrew for the first time, and got close to the multi-cultural dynamic under an intense religious backdrop.

Land and water represented a source of regeneration of the physical body for Fogelman.

“A year after my family graduated from the Hebrew Ulpan in Mevaseret Zion, we moved to the city of Bat-Yam, located on the Mediterranean Sea on the central coastal strip, just south of Tel Aviv Jaffa.

“Living by the Mediterranean Sea was healing and transforming. It was a dream come true for me,” says Fogelman.

Fogelman’s new exhibit, “Transient Spaces,” explores symbiotic dualities – change and stability.

“She is also interested in the inherent change in the appearance of the work while it is literally wet, and after each layer dries.  The work must be done on a flat surface allowing for heavy textures reminiscent of rain drenched earth worked over rhythmically with tools. 

Although she is selective about the colors she uses, their hues/contrast shift significantly when dry, a metaphor for spiritual changes and the impact of weather and time on land,” says Professor Munakata.

“Your paintings make me think, feel, and look harder at what I thought was there,” says Rosanne Harris, Academic Policies/Curriculum Coordinator at CSUEB.

Transient Spaces” opened September 11^th and runs through October 29^th.

Origins of the Banjo - The Black Legacy - 7/18/11

Guy de Chalus, banjo teacher at the Oakland Public Conservatory of Music’s summer camp brings storytelling to instill the value of the instrument for cultural preservation and education.

In African traditions, he is called a Griot – the storyteller.

One of 50 known people studying the history of the banjo in the United States, de Chalus embraces its African origins and the old time style of playing.

 “As far as I know there are perhaps one or two others on the west coast that play old time style banjo besides me. I haven't seen them in these parts, I'm it,” says de Chalus.

de Chalus purchased his first banjo for $50 from a man trying to get rid of it because he was moving out of town. After connecting with a teacher, he eventually linked with other banjoist and scholars who felt the need to discuss the African origin and the Black legacy of the banjo.

There is a tremendous amount of African American participation in banjo up through the early period of jazz.

According to “The Old–Time Herald,” banjoist, Tony Thomas, founder of “Then and Now,” a forum for old-time music players, scholars, and thinkers concerned for the history that pervade the banjo and its music says, “We needed a place to express the explosion of African American banjoists including African American Heritage Elder Etta Baker, Taj Mahal, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Guy Davis, Otis Taylor, Sule Greg Wilson, Don Vappie, Dr. Joan, and Rex Ellis, all known in the old-time, blues, classic, and jazz banjo communities.

de Chalus talks to his students about people like folklorist, Mike Seeger, (brother of Pete Seeger) being one of the few enlightened experts who dug deeper into the roots and discovered through stories that African Americans were involved with the banjo.

“The Earliest banjo (of sorts) was found in what is today known as Surinam, the former Dutch Guiana.

The banjo in the American colonies go back as early as the 17th century. An instrument transplanted by Africans to the Caribbean during the slave trade, it was brought to the United States and transformed through the relationship between blacks and whites in the South from a gourd-bodied, gut-stringed instrument to a wooden-pot, steel-strung, fretted instrument,” says de Chalus.

“The banjo is different from the guitar, I like that it’s more high pitched, says Rachel Stovall, a student at OPC.

“I like learning and knowing about the roots of where it came from and that it is native to America. It is history,” says Carolina Gonzalez Navarro, student at OPC.

             “I agree with Carolina and I love informing people that it is a native instrument and of it’s origins in Africa. When you tell people you’re learning the banjo, at first they assume you came from a farm or something, then after explaining the history they become intrigued, and that makes me feel happy,” says Vinkya Hunter, a student at OPC.

According to de Chalus, musicians create ways to express complex ideas simply. When he teaches his students a song, it comes with a story.

“In a story told to Mike Seeger by Josh Thomas, an African American musician that Seeger met during his fieldwork gathering, "Roustabout," is a tune from Thomas that researchers believe to have alternated names. He called it "Roustabout" from one of the words used in the opening part of the tune.” says de Chalus.

“We’re doing “Bum Ditty” to the second string, sixteen times. I don’t know of any other kids playing that song,” says de Chalus.

Bum Ditty is one of many ways to understand Clawhammer technique and how it works. “It creates a rhythm that can be summed up by saying "Bum Ditty."