If Eve ain't in your garden: intersections between Nas X, Karen McLean and Bronzino
December 2021
Published by Umbigo Magazine #78
Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home
“Like a little prayer”, Madonna, 1989 [excerpt]
You live in the dark, boy, I cannot pretend
I'm not fazed, only here to sin
If Eve ain't in your garden, you know that you can
Call me when you want, call me when you need
Call me out by your name
“MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)”, Nas X, 2021 [excerpt]
In christianity, sin is what originated humanity. It’s what kicked us out from the Garden of Eden and depromoted us to being human. In this view, there would be no humankind if it hadn’t been for the primordial transgression: we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t sin. The primordial sin was the first time we acted against God and, therefore, not only the origin of humankind, but also of free will. More than ever individuals are owning up to their “sins” and being proud of their identities. However, the christian footprint of oppression is still clear in many historically enslaved communities all around the world.
Growing up, Nas X was censored for his queereness and guaranteed he would go to hell for being gay. Now a public figure and activist for LGBTQ+ rights, Nas X slides down to Hell gladly. Heir of “Like a Little Prayer” by Madonna, the rapper released “MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)” earlier this year. Madonna’s passive “When you call my name it's like a little prayer” turned into a very active, and demanding “Call me by your name”: the virgin-like whim of Madonna and the black Christ turns into a guilt-free sexual demand. The outstanding video for this song is a take on the biblical story of the origin of humankind. In a twisted Disney-like Garden of Eden, where blackness and sexuality are celebrated, the sensual and camp Adam is seduced by a snake, judged and has rocks thrown at him before descending into hell via a stripper pole. There he gives the devil a lap dance and kills him only to become the new underworld king himself. All of the characters are played by Nas X, adding to the obscurity of the video.
A few months ago I visited “Sin”, a small, one-room exhibition at the National Gallery that featured artworks which somehow were related to the concept of sin. Even though superficial in terms of questions raised, the exhibition opens powerfully with “An Allegory with Venus and Cupid” (Bronzino, 1545) sided by Tracey Emin’s “It was only a Kiss”. I was immediately brought into a dark, mischief zone, where guilt or shame don't exist. The sexuality of Venus, condemned as unsuitable for the National Gallery’s standards of decency at the time, is shown as an unashamed metaphor for the modern forgiving of Lust. Immaculate conception no more. The angel nibbling on Venus’ nipples looks to me very much like a Renaissance version of Nas X’s lap dance to the devil. In “MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)”, the rapper is avenging his childhood religious oppressors by being unapologetic about his sexuality and acknowledging that sin comes hand in hand with pleasure, in the same way that “An Allegory with Venus and Cupid” is going against a canon of prudeness.
Both had fracturing feedback.
A few weeks after going to the National Gallery I went to Block 336, an artist-run space and project, to see Karen McLean, “BLUE POWER” (2021). Here, the oppressive catholic doctrine is given a time and place: post-colonial Caribbean. The installation features a sea of christian crosses made of bars of blue carbolic soap assembled as a massive graveyard which occupies the entire roomspace, facing an eerie blue-golden portrait of a devil. When the Caribbean were invaded and taken-over by Catholic Europe, a series of production lines were set, namely blue soap. This product was manufactured primarily for the cleaning of clothes but soon the Caribbean population imprinted on it a ritualistic aura. It was believed that, if hung over doors, the blue soap would give protection to the house and its inhabitants, ridding them of evil and bad spirits. Would these bad spirits actually be the Europeans who enslaved them? Are Caribbean people trying to use the oppressor’s products as weapons to fight them?
Christian madonnas wear blue as a symbol for their chastity and divinity. In Medieval times it was also the most expensive and rare of pigments, set aside for divine or noble depictions - such as in “Allegory of Venus and Cupid”. It was only in the 20th century, that it’s use on working jeans dissipated historical preconceptions of luxury. Associated with the working class, blue-collars and blue jeans are tokens for capitalist modes of production. Fast and efficient. “BLUE POWDER'' works as a memorial for Caribbean lives lost to these modes of production and colonialism and highlights systemic issues within the country’s people, which were left as imperialist footprints. The Caribbean community is still, to this day, in need to ward off bad omens. It seems that, after the primordial sin, christians decided to make it a trend.
“BLUE POWDER’s graveyard faces a portrait of a devil-human, lined with gold, as if it were a christian icon at a church. His face is blue. Celestial blue? I don’t think so. McLean presents us the Caribbean worship icon: the European devil; capitalism; colonialism; mass-production. Worthy of worship and devotion? No. Still, enslaved people were obliged to idolize it.
The exhibition at the National Gallery ends with “Youth” (2009), a sculpture by contemporary artist Ron Mueck depicting a black child standing up straight on a plinth, examining what looks like a stab wound - or a crucifixion wound. This powerful sculpture stands in opposing corners of my mind in relation to Nas X. The boy in “Youth” is helpless, innocent, fragile, a victim of christianity and colonialism, to be buried in Karen McLean’s graveyard. Nas X is the revenge on christianity. Strong and proud. “In life, we hide the parts of ourselves we don’t want the world to see. We lock them away. We tell them no. We banish them. But here we don’t.”, says Little Nas X - I would say now we don’t. God has long been dead. We are relieved from the burden of shame.
“KAREN MCLEAN: BLUE POWER // AR'N'T I A WOMAN!”, Block 336, 2021
https://block336.com/exhibitions/karen-mclean-blue-power-arnt-i-a-woman/
“Sin”, National Gallery, London, October 2020 to January 2021
https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/exhibitions/past/sin
“Lil Nas X - MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)” (Official Video)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6swmTBVI83k
“Madonna - Like A Prayer” (Official Video)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79fzeNUqQbQ
December 2021
Published by Umbigo Magazine #78
Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home
“Like a little prayer”, Madonna, 1989 [excerpt]
You live in the dark, boy, I cannot pretend
I'm not fazed, only here to sin
If Eve ain't in your garden, you know that you can
Call me when you want, call me when you need
Call me out by your name
“MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)”, Nas X, 2021 [excerpt]
In christianity, sin is what originated humanity. It’s what kicked us out from the Garden of Eden and depromoted us to being human. In this view, there would be no humankind if it hadn’t been for the primordial transgression: we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t sin. The primordial sin was the first time we acted against God and, therefore, not only the origin of humankind, but also of free will. More than ever individuals are owning up to their “sins” and being proud of their identities. However, the christian footprint of oppression is still clear in many historically enslaved communities all around the world.
Growing up, Nas X was censored for his queereness and guaranteed he would go to hell for being gay. Now a public figure and activist for LGBTQ+ rights, Nas X slides down to Hell gladly. Heir of “Like a Little Prayer” by Madonna, the rapper released “MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)” earlier this year. Madonna’s passive “When you call my name it's like a little prayer” turned into a very active, and demanding “Call me by your name”: the virgin-like whim of Madonna and the black Christ turns into a guilt-free sexual demand. The outstanding video for this song is a take on the biblical story of the origin of humankind. In a twisted Disney-like Garden of Eden, where blackness and sexuality are celebrated, the sensual and camp Adam is seduced by a snake, judged and has rocks thrown at him before descending into hell via a stripper pole. There he gives the devil a lap dance and kills him only to become the new underworld king himself. All of the characters are played by Nas X, adding to the obscurity of the video.
A few months ago I visited “Sin”, a small, one-room exhibition at the National Gallery that featured artworks which somehow were related to the concept of sin. Even though superficial in terms of questions raised, the exhibition opens powerfully with “An Allegory with Venus and Cupid” (Bronzino, 1545) sided by Tracey Emin’s “It was only a Kiss”. I was immediately brought into a dark, mischief zone, where guilt or shame don't exist. The sexuality of Venus, condemned as unsuitable for the National Gallery’s standards of decency at the time, is shown as an unashamed metaphor for the modern forgiving of Lust. Immaculate conception no more. The angel nibbling on Venus’ nipples looks to me very much like a Renaissance version of Nas X’s lap dance to the devil. In “MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)”, the rapper is avenging his childhood religious oppressors by being unapologetic about his sexuality and acknowledging that sin comes hand in hand with pleasure, in the same way that “An Allegory with Venus and Cupid” is going against a canon of prudeness.
Both had fracturing feedback.
A few weeks after going to the National Gallery I went to Block 336, an artist-run space and project, to see Karen McLean, “BLUE POWER” (2021). Here, the oppressive catholic doctrine is given a time and place: post-colonial Caribbean. The installation features a sea of christian crosses made of bars of blue carbolic soap assembled as a massive graveyard which occupies the entire roomspace, facing an eerie blue-golden portrait of a devil. When the Caribbean were invaded and taken-over by Catholic Europe, a series of production lines were set, namely blue soap. This product was manufactured primarily for the cleaning of clothes but soon the Caribbean population imprinted on it a ritualistic aura. It was believed that, if hung over doors, the blue soap would give protection to the house and its inhabitants, ridding them of evil and bad spirits. Would these bad spirits actually be the Europeans who enslaved them? Are Caribbean people trying to use the oppressor’s products as weapons to fight them?
Christian madonnas wear blue as a symbol for their chastity and divinity. In Medieval times it was also the most expensive and rare of pigments, set aside for divine or noble depictions - such as in “Allegory of Venus and Cupid”. It was only in the 20th century, that it’s use on working jeans dissipated historical preconceptions of luxury. Associated with the working class, blue-collars and blue jeans are tokens for capitalist modes of production. Fast and efficient. “BLUE POWDER'' works as a memorial for Caribbean lives lost to these modes of production and colonialism and highlights systemic issues within the country’s people, which were left as imperialist footprints. The Caribbean community is still, to this day, in need to ward off bad omens. It seems that, after the primordial sin, christians decided to make it a trend.
“BLUE POWDER’s graveyard faces a portrait of a devil-human, lined with gold, as if it were a christian icon at a church. His face is blue. Celestial blue? I don’t think so. McLean presents us the Caribbean worship icon: the European devil; capitalism; colonialism; mass-production. Worthy of worship and devotion? No. Still, enslaved people were obliged to idolize it.
The exhibition at the National Gallery ends with “Youth” (2009), a sculpture by contemporary artist Ron Mueck depicting a black child standing up straight on a plinth, examining what looks like a stab wound - or a crucifixion wound. This powerful sculpture stands in opposing corners of my mind in relation to Nas X. The boy in “Youth” is helpless, innocent, fragile, a victim of christianity and colonialism, to be buried in Karen McLean’s graveyard. Nas X is the revenge on christianity. Strong and proud. “In life, we hide the parts of ourselves we don’t want the world to see. We lock them away. We tell them no. We banish them. But here we don’t.”, says Little Nas X - I would say now we don’t. God has long been dead. We are relieved from the burden of shame.
“KAREN MCLEAN: BLUE POWER // AR'N'T I A WOMAN!”, Block 336, 2021
https://block336.com/exhibitions/karen-mclean-blue-power-arnt-i-a-woman/
“Sin”, National Gallery, London, October 2020 to January 2021
https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/exhibitions/past/sin
“Lil Nas X - MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)” (Official Video)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6swmTBVI83k
“Madonna - Like A Prayer” (Official Video)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79fzeNUqQbQ