North by Northwest
Obviously Hitchcock's North by Northwest is a ludicrous film to adapt for the stage, especially for a modestly budgeted touring show with no set changes and a cast of seven. As much as anything else, Alfred Hitchcock's absurdist conspiracy thriller is best remembered for two of the most audacious setpieces in cinema history: an attack by a machine gun-toting crop duster plane on an Illinois cornfield, and a final showdown on top of Mount Rushmore.
But whimsical auteur Emma Rice has long abandoned any fear of adapting impossible source material. She doesn't attempt to faithfully recreate a given film or book so much as drag it into her own private dimension, where it's forced to play by her rules.
North by Northwes t is an interesting choice nonetheless, because it's so hard to classify. Despite its huge impact on the genre, it's not really an action film. And it's not really a comedy. But there's a definite twinkle in its eyes as it follows Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant in the film, Ewan Wardrop here), a mediocre middle-aged adman who gets dragged into an elaborate conspiracy after being mistaken for George Caplan, a spy who does not in fact exist.
Arguably Rice disrupts a delicate equilibrium by making it overtly comic, with dance sequences, miming to '50s pop hits, and a spectacularly knowing, fourth wall-breaking performance from Katy Owen as shadowy spymaster The Professor, who serves as the show's narrator and tour guide.
It's jarring at first, but Rice pulls it off because she does it on her own terms: she doesn't really bother with the action stuff that much, instead revelling in the story, which features bland nobody Roger getting sucked into a mountingly ridiculous conspiracy, the absurdities of which are enhanced by its untethering from those big pulse-pounding setpieces
Not that Rice's production lacks thrills: Rob Howell's flexible set – basically made up of four '50s New York-style revolving doors – is very effective on the more intimate sections, particularly Roger's early abduction and his tense train journey to Chicago. And the cropduster scene is so obviously beyond the technical scope of the production that it's simply fun that Rice has a go, in adorably lo-fi fashion. The whole story is here, but the emphasis has been changed.
And it's tremendous fun, a gleefully Ricean homage to Hitchcock, spy thrillers and generally cool things about '50s America. But then it hits a wall at what should be the most thrilling point. The final confrontation at Mount Rushmore just doesn't work. A pile of suitcases stands in for the monument and it sort of scans in a lo-fi theatre style, but the frantic action is hard to follow in such a confined playing area. Plus the tone becomes abruptly more earnest, which feels almost like a cop out. The trouble is North by Northwest does pretty much depend on Hitchcock's exact climax, and that simply can't be delivered here. I wouldn't say Rice has bitten off more than she can chew: but I would say that a lack of punch to the grand finale is a trade off for the larks we've had up to that point.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
‘The risk was worth it': All Fours author Miranda July on sex, power and giving women permission to blow up their lives
When Miranda July's All Fours was published in May last year, it triggered what felt like both a spontaneous resistance movement and the sort of mania last experienced when the final Twilight book dropped, except this time for women in midlife rather than teenage girls. Two friends separately brought it to my house, like contraband dropped out of a biplane. Book groups hastily convened, strategically timed for when the men were out of the picture. The story opens with a 45-year-old woman about to take a road trip, a break from her husband and child and general domestic noise. She's intending to drive from LA to New York, but is derailed in the first half hour by a young guy, Davey, in a car hire place, to whom she is passionately attracted. The next several weeks pass in a lust so intense, so overpowering, so lusciously drawn, it's like a cross between ayahuasca and encephalitis. The narrator is subsumed by her obsession, and disappears her normal life. The road trip is a bust from the start, but the effort of breaking the spell and going home looks, for a long time, like way too much for the narrator, and when she finally does, to borrow from Leonard Cohen (perhaps describing a similar situation), she's somebody's mother but nobody's wife. The New York Times called it 'the first great perimenopause novel', which is incorrect – not because you could easily name 10 others, rather because what it ignited was not an honest heart-to-heart about hormones, but something far more radical. What if a woman just told the truth, about sex, monogamy, marriage, mortality, domesticity, friendship, the life of the mind? The disruption of norms would be so immense that you wouldn't, as a reader, necessarily need your circumstances or feelings to correspond to the author's for that to upend your life. One woman who nearly divorced her husband after reading it said: 'I think what I felt, which I think is what a lot of us feel, is permission to be undone.' All Fours was an immediate success. It spent nearly a year on the Indie Bestseller list. It was a finalist in the National Book Awards in the US, as well as being named on the best books lists, 2024, by the New York Times, the New Yorker, Time, the Washington Post, PBS, Oprah, Vogue and Vulture. Now, a year on, the paperback is coming out, and I'm talking to July as she waits to find out whether she has won the Women's prize . Our conversation, which would normally be part-retrospective – there's a funny bit in All Fours when she talks about the female artist's lifecycle: first 'hot young thing', then wilderness years, and a final spurt of attention before you die – is instead all about the reaction to this book. 'I wrote it as if it was OK – as if everyone knew what I was talking about,' July says, looking bluestockingy in round glasses, from her home in Echo Park, Los Angeles. 'As if you could make a joke about something shameful, as if we had all already talked about that thing. Even though we hadn't. So it was skipping a few steps, even to have humour about it. I was building on an internal world that I believed existed, not just in me.' Miranda July is 51, was born in Vermont to two writer parents, and has the ultimate boho CV – she said once that her last shitty job was at the age of 23, as a car-door-unlocker at Pop-A-Lock, a US chain of locksmiths, which makes her ability to make a living as, variously, a performance artist, a film-maker, a writer, almost mythical. She came to indie prominence with Me and You and Everyone We Know, her first full-length film, in 2005 – it won the best first feature at Cannes that year. It has the most endearing, infuriating sequence: someone buys a goldfish and accidentally drives off, having left it on top of his car. July, starring in the film because, realistically, she was the only person who could have, decides from inside her own car that the fish will certainly perish, and delivers an ode: 'I didn't know you, but I want you to know that you were loved.' Her voice was incredibly distinctive – she nailed all those universal feelings such as awkwardness, futility, delight, yet was as far as you could imagine from being an everywoman. There followed an exquisite book of short stories – No One Belongs Here More Than You – in 2007, and her first full-length novel, The First Bad Man, in 2015. Certainly, she always blurred the lines between herself and her protagonists. But When All Fours was published, it couldn't escape anyone's notice that July herself has a child, roughly the same age as the narrator's, and separated from her husband two years before the book's publication. Of course, it's always assumed that authors borrow from life, but this seemed like a different order of autobiographical fiction. Being honest about feelings, even destructive, primitive, contradictory, overwhelming ones, is daring enough, but marrying them to real-life events felt cataclysmic, which almost created a feedback loop. Readers felt the story was so audacious it had to be true. They were invested in the truth of it, to the extent that, during a Q&A after a reading, 'someone asked about Davey being a dancer, why was he?' says July. 'And I went through the whole thing of my process, why I came up with that, and I could just feel the room kind of deflate. They wanted him to be a real dancer.' 'My actual friends,' July says, her voice rising in mock outrage, 'they know that so much of this didn't happen. It definitely didn't happen the way it's written in the book. But even as I was talking to a writer friend, she said, 'I keep forgetting that you didn't just do what you did in the book. You had years of couples therapy and this long conversation with your husband, it's totally different.' And I was, like, 'Are you kidding me?' You have to hold that in your head. How is anyone else going to believe this isn't real, if my friends can't even remember?' What about her ex, though – Mike Mills, also a film-maker, Oscar-nominated in 2017 for his movie 20th Century Women? Did he mind, or was he fine with it? July looks at me sardonically. 'I don't think those are the only two conceivable feelings.' The pair met at Sundance film festival in 2005, both there with their first movies. 'So we met as artists, and we always talked about how there's this bubble that's sacred for each of us, you keep the bubbles separate. You know, you each get your own world, and you have your freedom within that. And so it's not like it's always easy, and for sure, there were parts of this that were hard. There's a part of it that was very personal for him – this is the mother of my child, we'll know each other for ever. And then there's the part that's a fellow artist. I remember him saying to me, 'I think you're at your best when you're closest to the bone as a writer.' So it's not great, it's not safe, but that was helpful to me to hear. I felt like the risk was worth it. The reward for not risking it seemed too modest.' A couple of months in from the publication of All Fours, everyone had a story about a woman who'd read it and blown her life up. But if you took a stroll through Goodreads, which is a kind of all-comers citizen book review site, something else stuck out: the people who one-starred it (about 5% of almost 140,000) didn't just hate it, there were actively angry with it. The rage was fascinating. It was as if they'd been slapped. Many were angry at how graphic it was (there's a famous, sexy scene with a tampon that would probably be a spoiler to describe). Commenters took umbrage. 'It would be great if I could read a book by a well-known female author who wasn't under the impression that descriptions of cutting matted hair from a dog's ass or running her hands under her lover's pee was 'original', 'sharp', or 'illuminating' writing,' wrote one. Many prefaced their scorn with the belief that women's bodies were brilliant territory for a writer – uncharted, tumultuous, mysterious – just not like this. This gave them the ick. More than that, though, they were angry with the narrator, and nowhere was the conflation of fiction and fact more complete; if she was narcissistic, self-involved, 'immature' then so was July. 'Yeah, I need to talk about that with someone,' July says, 'probably not you.' (I wish it could be me, but it sounds like she means a therapist.) Sometimes, it's just that they weren't expecting it – 'They thought it was going to be a beach read.' But more importantly, 'They're very sympathetic to the husband.' Of course, it's that – no question, he is betrayed by the narrator, not just with this brain fever emotional infidelity, but on an even more basic level; it's that he's so nice, so personable, so thoughtful, so empathetic, and yet … he's not enough. 'And I'm thinking, 'I created the husband, too! So he's also me!'' she says, laughing. This is possibly the most radical act of the book: not a woman getting divorced, but a woman leaving a Good Guy. The husband gets annoyed just once: when the narrator posts a photo of herself on Instagram, dancing suggestively. This section, which follows a period where the narrator works out in the gym and strives for a perfect physique, surprised me – it's such a mainstream thing to do. It's not a thousand miles from real life, either, as July also likes to uploads videos of herself shaking her insanely perfect, pretty much unshakeable ass (though fair play, the dances themselves are anything but mainstream). Today, July bristles a bit at the suggestion her character is in thrall to a beauty ideal when admiring her ass. 'No, she's been taking nude selfies, and then she's surprised to see, 'Hold on, it does look a little different down there.' I think that's what I was trying to capture.' Then she elaborates: 'If ever I have something to do with fashion, or frankly, even if I just get quite dressed up and I'm photographed because I enjoy that, I do have conversations with other prominent women writers that are like, 'I make sure that no one sees me having too good a time.' I think, for women, the measurement of what seriousness looks like is still masculine.' Sign up to Bookmarks Discover new books and learn more about your favourite authors with our expert reviews, interviews and news stories. Literary delights delivered direct to you after newsletter promotion In November last year, July launched her Substack. It became a muster point for people who relished talking about the book, but an unusual number had also made a great change in their lives after reading it. What was interesting, when I interviewed some of them, was the sheer range of situations. There were readers who didn't need an LA literary novelist and performance artist to tell them they were allowed their own feelings – readers who were already queer or polyamorous or non-binary, who nevertheless found a new permission to just get out of whatever situation they were in, forgo the security of a relationship for something more authentic and exploratory. There were readers who were from incredibly conservative backgrounds. There were women who didn't leave their relationship, who simply left a job in which they felt no appreciation. There were women who changed the way they had sex. There were women who changed the way they related to their children, changed the time or attention they gave to friendships. We weren't looking at a divorce manual, in other words, but 'permission to be undone'. No wonder some people were angry. That is an incredibly dangerous licence, socially. A lot of things really rely on women who'll hold it together for others, regardless of their own feelings. July says that the scale of readers' responses has felt like more than an unusual wave of appreciation for a previously respected but niche artist and writer. 'I had this movie [Me and You and Everyone We Know], that was the big change for me,' she says. 'That experience was really about me, a new voice. All Fours is really about women. Reading and hearing about other people's stories – the sense of isolation, the shame that I had while I was writing the book, it's all been completely inverted.' This is one of the reasons 'perimenopause novel' irks, as a thumbnail – situating these explosive feelings hormonally is just another way to say these feelings will pass, so don't matter. But July is relaxed about that. 'There have been different phases of shame and fear while I'm writing – there was more shame when I was younger. Then I got to the perimenopause and that was the last thing I wanted to be associated with. All the time I was writing, I was just thinking, 'Why am I doing this? I can't stop myself.'' The menopause conversation is much more developed in the UK than the US, she says, where nobody talks about it. 'You could have a whole relationship with your gynaecologist and really not have it come up. Or you could say, 'I have these symptoms,' and they'd say, 'If you're suicidal, you can take hormones, but otherwise just ride it out.' And that's in LA!' It makes me think of all the other ways in which women in the US are peculiarly under-emancipated – not the recent, terrifying anti-abortion legislation, but the bread-and-butter stuff, such as the lack of significant maternity leave; does that feel connected? 'I think it's very intertwined with the healthcare system. We just don't have reliable healthcare, period. So menopause is a luxury problem.' She notes, wryly, that 'we don't actually have a problem with rich, aspirational women' as protagonists, they just can't be dissatisfied. It's funny: on a Zoom she looks younger than her age, but not artificially so, or massively groomed; but in public, I've always found her stunning appearance incongruous, like, how can this woman feel out of place? July's The First Bad Man is 10 years old now, and even though it is mainly powered by sexual fantasies, they are so extravagantly weird that, when I read it, I didn't even realise it was meant to be erotic. (That was partly context – literary erotic fiction wasn't really a thing, then. You were either a Fifty Shades reader or you read grown-up stuff.) It wasn't until July spoke at a book festival and described how she was masturbating so much while working on the book that her writer-friend said she had to sublimate, the way athletes do, or she was never going to finish it. Which was news to the audience just because, you know, who's ever heard 'I was masturbating … ' at a book festival? Technically, All Fours is a work of erotic fiction, which has a definition: that the sex doesn't just happen, the characters are advanced by it. At the same time, it's not a sex-beach-read, because that's not July's style. 'Sometimes I pick up a book at the top of the bestseller lists, just to understand what's going on,' she says. 'I'm reading a romcom called Funny Story. I was shocked by how graphic it is … I don't think I'm prudish, I was a prostitute [shorthand for promiscuous, not literally a sex worker] at times in my life.' All Fours aims to do something different. 'The joy of it, for me, was writing a thing I hadn't seen written about sex, either because what constituted sex was new, or because nobody had ever described, like, a woman who takes a long time to come; the thoughts of the other person: is this a fool's errand? Will I be able to do this? It was just really funny to me: 'Tell me if you need a vibrator, tell me if I'm just gonna keep going at this. You know, if it's humanly possible.'' Yet this definitely isn't slapstick sex; it's meant, and felt. The narrator and her friend make a rigid distinction between mind-rooted fuckers and body-rooted fuckers – mind-fuckers are imagining a scene as they have sex (in one memorable description between the narrator and her husband, she says it's like she stuck a giant TV to his head); body-fuckers are absolutely engrossed in the sensations of the body, their mind is nowhere – and there's a memorable scene for that, too. What was the reason, creatively, that the narrator and Davey never have sex? 'The point was to build it to this place where you felt like those were the only two options: she's either going to have sex or she's going to go home. I wanted to use all that built-up energy, that obsessive loop, so another way of thinking would present itself. That playing field, while it's completely addictive to read about – and to live, frankly – is ultimately quite small. But it can be transformative, it can push you into the next area of your life. If the end result is that you fuck Davey, you might not get that birth of complexity.' Then she says the most surprisingly romantic thing. 'When someone sees you, in a particular way, and that part of your soul that hasn't really been seen is seen, it won't go back into the box. And that's a big problem, because your life isn't built for it to come out of the box.' We speak before July travels to the UK for the Women's prize. 'Sometimes people will tip you off that you're not gonna win. I've been looking for that email, and haven't had it yet. But the important thing about this book is what it's done to the conversation, for the culture. I don't know if that's the thing literary prizes are for.' ( In the end, she lost out to Dutch debut novelist Yael van der Wouden.) It must feel strange and vulnerable, at this moment, to be an author who stands for – maybe not everything, but a huge amount of things that the US government absolutely cannot tolerate, whether that's female emancipation or sexual and gender fluidity. 'I tend to think the people who are most vulnerable to this are not so visible. What's the deal with my neighbours? I've known them for 20 years, but I don't know who's here legally, why would I know their business? Who's gonna notice if two of the people in that house are gone?' But it does touch her personally, and not just as a neighbour. 'It's really hard to get a grip on,' she says sadly. 'Whether the most extreme takes are actually the most clear-eyed. Whether the people who are moving [abroad] have it right. I'm trying to figure that out right now.' Unlike her narrator, July did make it to New York, last week, where she entertained her friends in her hotel room (which will, if you've read it, remind you a lot of All Fours). This is how she described the experience on her Substack: 'Two of my visiting friends were my age and both of them, in different ways, spoke about looking older, the hardness of that … One friend and I showed each other our thighs in the light to make sure the other one really saw our cellulite. I told her the truth: I had assumed hers was much more extreme because of how she had spoken about it over the years. For years, I had placed her in a different category from myself, cellulite-wise.' And that's July – the political, the personal, the public, the intimate, the things you're not supposed to think about if you want to be taken seriously or thought of as truthful, all with a voice that's entirely relatable yet completely idiosyncratic. All Fours is out now in paperback (Canongate Books). To support the Guardian, order your copy from Delivery charges may apply.
The Independent
2 hours ago
- The Independent
Key moments from the fifth week of Sean 'Diddy' Combs' sex trafficking trial
The fifth week of Sean 'Diddy' Combs ' sex trafficking trial featured four days of testimony from a former Combs' girlfriend who testified under the pseudonym Jane and a surprise appearance at the courthouse on the fifth day by Ye, the rapper formerly known as Kanye West. Ye said he came to show his support for his good friend but couldn't get into the courtroom and watched for a few minutes on an overflow courtroom monitor. Combs, the founder of Bad Boy Records, has pleaded not guilty in the trial, which resumes Monday. Here are key moments from the past week: Jane says she still loves Combs Jane testified for six days about her over three-year relationship with Combs, saying her plans to meet him at a New York hotel last September were interrupted by his arrest. Her testimony consumed four of the week's five trial days as she told about her conflicted feelings toward Combs. She told a prosecutor: 'I just pray for his continued healing, and I pray for peace for him.' And when a defense lawyer asked if she still loved him, she responded: 'I do.' When she completed her testimony and with the jury still in the room, she went to the prosecutor and gave her a warm embrace before proceeding to the defense attorney and hugging her too. She said she resents she felt forced to have sex with strangers in multiday sex marathons as the man she longed most to cuddle with filmed and fed her drugs to give her energy to satisfy his sexual fantasies. Her testimony echoed what the jury heard in the trial's first week when Casandra 'Cassie' Ventura testified for four days that she engaged in hundreds of multiday 'freak-offs' while they dated from 2007 to 2018, having sex with male sex workers in front of Combs, who masturbated, filmed the encounters, and verbalized what he wanted to see sexually. Another famous rapper wanted multiple partners in his love life, Jane says Jane said she and Combs split up from Halloween 2023 until February 2024. During the break, she said, she flew on another famous rapper's private jet to Las Vegas, joining the celebrity to celebrate his romantic partner's birthday for a night that included dinner, a stripper's club visit and a hotel room party. In the hotel room, Jane testified, the rapper who was close friends with Combs made a pass at her amid flirtatious banter, saying he had always wanted to have sex with her. She said she danced in the hotel room, where a male sex worker was having sex with a woman, and at some point Jane flashed her breasts. Jane agreed with a lawyer's assessment that the famous rapper was 'an individual at the top of the music industry as well ... an icon in the music industry.' Jane also revealed that the unidentified famous rapper and his partner were looking for someone they could add to their sexual experiences who was 'in the lifestyle.' 'I believe they were asking me because maybe they just picked up the energy from me or I just maybe assumed that maybe they had already got an inclination that me and Sean had been doing kind of similar things,' she said, noting that she referred a male sex worker she knew. Rapper Ye, once known as Kanye West, surprises a courthouse A day after Jane finished testifying, Ye, formerly known as Kanye West, made a surprise appearance at the courthouse and quickly learned what a tough ticket it is to get into the courtroom where his good friend Combs is on trial. Ye, wearing all white, was ushered by courthouse security to an overflow courtroom to watch the trial on a video monitor along with others who were unable to get into the courtroom. He lasted only a few minutes there before he made his courthouse exit, saying nothing during his trip except that he was there to support Combs. Testimony reveals Combs has a favorite TV show and is a bit of a crime buff It turns out that Combs, the subject of several true-crime TV documentaries, is a bit of a true-crime fan himself. Jane revealed this week that his favorite show is 'Dateline,' the magazine-style NBC stalwart that is heavy on murders and mysteries. She told jurors that, in their alone time together, she and Combs would watch 'Dateline' for hours 'till we fell asleep.' Other activities when it was just the two of them included hugging, cuddling and bathing Combs, and giving him foot rubs, Jane testified. Jane planned to meet Combs at the New York hotel where he was arrested Jane testified that she last saw Combs in August, when they were in their 'same routine having sex and everything' when Combs suggested that she invite over the very first male sex worker she had sex with in front of Combs. She said that afterward, she and Combs continued texting each other and were planning to meet in New York at a hotel in September. 'Did you end up going to New York to see him?' she was asked. 'No,' she answered. 'Why not?' she was asked before she responded: 'Because he got arrested.' To protect Jane's identity, a judge leans on secrecy over public access The courtroom rules surrounding Jane's testimony were the strictest yet in a bid to protect her identity from becoming common knowledge. But the rules imposed by the judge became too much for defense attorney Marc Agnifilo, who protested that Jane was blocked from telling more about the hotel party in January 2024 with the famous, though unidentified, rapper. Agnifilo said the defense had consented to the 'pseudonymity' of Jane. 'What we didn't consent to, and we don't, most respectfully, is that these events which play important parts in the background of some of the most critical events in the trial, should be in any way not fully public,' he said. He said names should have been released. 'Part of the reason that trials are fully public is so if other people realize they know something about an event that's discussed in a public courtroom, they could come forward and they could share whatever their recollection is about it,' he said. Defense lawyers say prosecutors are targeting Black jurors The fate of one anonymous juror was in limbo after the judge said Friday he will reconsider his decision to oust the juror even though he suspects he might have an "agenda. Judge Arun Subramanian said he had decided that conflicting answers from the juror about where he primarily lived — in New Jersey or New York — raised questions about his credibility and whether he was answering questions in a bid to stay on the jury. If the juror does primarily live with a girlfriend in New Jersey, he would be outside the court district and disqualified. Prosecutors said the juror's dismissal is required because of his conflicting answers. Defense lawyers argued that prosecutors were only trying to disqualify a Black juror and that his dismissal could spoil an otherwise diverse panel of jurors. The judge bristled at the suggestion that race was a factor, saying there was no support for claims that prosecutors did not use race-neutral arguments to exclude jurors during jury selection and now.
The Independent
2 hours ago
- The Independent
The home of one of the largest catalogs of Black history turns 100 in New York
It's one of the largest repositories of Black history in the country — and its most devoted supporters say not enough people know about it. The Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture hopes to change that Saturday, as it celebrates its centennial with a festival combining two of its marquee annual events. The Black Comic Book Festival and the Schomburg Literary Festival will run across a full day and will feature readings, panel discussions, workshops, children's story times, and cosplay, as well as a vendor marketplace. Saturday's celebration takes over 135th Street in Manhattan between Malcom X and Adam Clayton Powell boulevards. Founded in New York City during the height of the Harlem Renaissance, the Schomburg Center will spend the next year exhibiting signature objects curated from its massive catalog of Black literature, art, recordings and films. Artists, writers and community leaders have gone the center to be inspired, root their work in a deep understanding of the vastness of the African diaspora, and spread word of the global accomplishments of Black people. It's also the kind of place that, in an era of backlash against race-conscious education and diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, exists as a free and accessible branch of the New York Public Library system. It's open to the public during regular business hours, but its acclaimed research division requires an appointment. 'The longevity the Schomburg has invested in preserving the traditions of the Black literary arts is worth celebrating, especially in how it sits in the canon of all the great writers that came beforehand,' said Mahogany Brown, an author and poet-in-residence at the Lincoln Center, who will participate in Saturday's literary festival. For the centennial, the Schomburg's leaders have curated more than 100 items for an exhibition that tells the center's story through the objects, people, and the place — the historically Black neighborhood of Harlem — that shaped it. Those objects include a visitor register log from 1925-1940 featuring the signatures of Black literary icons and thought leaders, such as Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes; materials from the Fab 5 Freddy collection, documenting the earliest days of hip hop; and actor and director Ossie Davis's copy of the 'Purlie Victorious' stage play script. An audio guide to the exhibition has been narrated by actor and literacy advocate LeVar Burton, the former host of the long-running TV show 'Reading Rainbow.' Whether they are new to the center or devoted supporters, visitors to the centennial exhibition will get a broader understanding of the Schomburg's history, the communities it has served, and the people who made it possible, said Joy Bivins, the Director of the Schomburg Center, who curated the centennial collection. 'Visitors will understand how the purposeful preservation of the cultural heritage of people of African descent has generated and fueled creativity across time and disciplines,' Bivins said. Novella Ford, associate director of public programs and exhibitions, said the Schomburg Center approaches its work through a Black lens, focusing on Black being and Black aliveness as it addresses current events, theories, or issues. 'We're constantly connecting the present to the past, always looking back to move forward, and vice versa,' Ford said. Still, many people outside the Schomburg community remain unaware of the center's existence — a concerning reality at a time when the Harlem neighborhood continues to gentrify around it and when the Trump administration is actively working to restrict the kind of race-conscious education and initiatives embedded in the center's mission. 'We amplify scholars of color,' Ford said. 'It's about reawakening. It gives us the tools and the voice to push back by affirming the beauty, complexity, and presence of Black identity.' Founder's donation seeds center's legacy The Schomburg Center has 11 million items in one of the oldest and largest collections of materials documenting the history and culture of people of African descent. That's a credit to founder Arturo Schomburg, an Afro-Latino historian born to a German father and African mother in Santurce, Puerto Rico. He was inspired to collect materials on Afro-Latin Americans and African American culture after a teacher told him that Black people lacked major figures and a noteworthy history. Schomburg moved to New York in 1891 and, during the height of the Harlem Renaissance in 1926, sold his collection of approximately 4,000 books and pamphlets to the New York Public Library. Selections from Schomburg's personal holdings, known as the seed library, are part of the centennial exhibition. Ernestine Rose, who was the head librarian at the 135th Street branch, and Catherine Latimer, the New York Public Library's first Black librarian, built on Schomburg's donation by documenting Black culture to reflect the neighborhoods around the library. Today, the library serves as a research archive of art, artifacts, manuscripts, rare books, photos, moving images, and recorded sound. Over the years, it has grown in size, from a reading room on the third floor to three buildings that include a small theater and an auditorium for public programs, performances and movie screenings. Tammi Lawson, who has been visiting the Schomburg Center for over 40 years, recently noticed the absence of Black women artists in the center's permanent collection. Now, as the curator of the arts and artifacts division, she is focused on acquiring works by Black women artists from around the world, adding to an already impressive catalog at the center. 'Preserving Black art and artifacts affirms our creativity and our cultural contributions to the world,' Lawson said. 'What makes the Schomburg Center's arts and artifacts division so unique and rare is that we started collecting 50 years before anyone else thought to do it. Therefore, we have the most comprehensive collection of Black art in a public institution.' Youth scholars seen as key to center's future For years, the Schomburg aimed to uplift New York's Black community through its Junior Scholars Program, a tuition-free program that awards dozens of youth from 6th through 12th grade. The scholars gain access to the center's repository and use it to create a multimedia showcase reflecting the richness, achievements, and struggles of today's Black experience. It's a lesser-known aspect of the Schomburg Center's legacy. That's in part because some in the Harlem community felt a divide between the institution and the neighborhood it purports to serve, said Damond Haynes, a former coordinator of interpretive programs at the center, who also worked with the Junior Scholars Program. But Harlem has changed since Haynes started working for the program about two decades ago. 'The Schomburg was like a castle,' Haynes said. "It was like a church, you know what I mean? Only the members go in. You admire the building.' For those who are exposed to the center's collections, the impact on their sense of self is undeniable, Haynes said. Kids are learning about themselves like Black history scholars, and it's like many families are passing the torch in a right of passage, he said. 'A lot of the teens, the avenues that they pick during the program, media, dance, poetry, visual art, they end up going into those programs,' Haynes said. 'A lot the teens actually find their identity within the program.'
