By Darlene Donloe
Contributing Writer
HOLLYWOOD — Saul Williams has always felt a responsibility to raise his voice, especially when it comes to something he feels deeply about like social issues.
A master wordsmith, Williams is known for speaking his mind with authority, intensity and thoughtfulness — occasionally throwing in some racy commentary.
The multi-hyphenate performer who is also a rapper, singer, songwriter, musician, poet, writer and actor, will combine his various talents when he takes the stage and invites the audience to experience an Afrofuturist suite of music and dance at the intersection of technology and race in “The Motherboard Suite,” featuring Saul Williams and directed by Bill T. Jones set to play at The Ford, 8 p.m. Aug. 9.
The show is described as music and movement combining for a night of vivid Afrofuturism.
The show is directed by Jones, a noted choreographer who received the prestigious MacArthur “genius” fellowship grant in 1994, and features Williams pairing tracks from his albums “MartyrLoserKing” and ‘Encrypted & Vulnerable.”
“Encrypted & Vulnerable” is the first album Williams categorized as “spoken word” and is the second in a series of three albums and part of the multi-tiered “MartyrLoserKing” project.
In “The Motherboard Suite,” dancers move through a progression of otherworldly scenes, flooded with strobe and neon lights, while wearing elaborate headdresses.
The show features several choreographers including Maria Bauman, Kayla Farrish, Marjani Forté-Saunders, d. Sabela grimes, Jasmine Hearn, Shamel Pitts and Jade Solomon Curtis. Each choreographer is invited into the world of Williams’ exploration at the intersection of technology and race, exploitation and mystical anarchy, where hackers are artists and activists.
A charismatic sort who likes to draw attention to certain issues, Williams’ intellectual verbal sparring make him one of the most intriguing lexicologists today.
A prominent figure in the scenes of alternative hip-hop and slam poetry, Williams, whose 2015 book “US(a.)” explores race, France and Miles Davis, is also known for his lead roles in the 1998 independent film, “Slam” and the 2013 jukebox musical, “Holler If Ya Hear Me.”
A married, father of four who hails from New York, Williams has lived in Brazil but currently lives in Los Angeles and Paris.
I recently caught up with Williams to talk about what audiences will experience at “The Motherboard Suite” performance at The Ford.
DD: You’ve been described as a slam poet. Is that an accurate description?
SW: Not at all. It took me so long to describe myself as a poet because I had so much respect for the medium. I have a master’s in acting. I do feel confident in referring to myself as an actor. When I’m called a poet, I take it as a compliment. It felt arrogant to refer to myself as a poet. I had to own it. I do now. Now I can say, I am a poet. I did a documentary called “Slam,” introducing people to the medium.
DD: The show is described as music and movement combined for a night of vivid Afrofuturism. What is your definition of Afrofuturism?
SW: In many ways, it’s what I’m attempting to describe. It’s the sense that we have more than our day-to-day lived experience. We have the power of imagination to contribute as well. A history of oppression doesn’t make us. We have carved our spaces for the imagination to run free.
Afrofuturism isn’t a term I use a lot. The realm of Black possibility is here and beyond. What we should be asking is what is Afropresentism.
DD: “The Motherboard Suite” has been described as a 45-minute concert of tracks from the albums “MartyrLoserKing” (2016) and “Encrypted & Vulnerable” (2019). The music is going to be interpreted by six choreographers. Isn’t it much more than that?
SW: I don’t want to disappoint you but I’m comfortable with that description. What stands out is all the collaborators are deeply invested in the realm of Black possibility. We are responding to the music and poetry in a way that may harken our relationship to traditional dance. The focus is on new traditions musically and visually.
DD: Do you feel a sense of responsibility to raise your voice?
SW: Yes. That’s the simple answer. What moves poetry forward is the esthetic of the poet. Some are more subtle, and some speak to the unsaid. Some poets are abrupt. There are many ways of speaking. Not everyone is required to be Malcolm X. There is a lot of nuance to be had.
DD: Where do you find your inspiration?
SW: That’s a kind of a moving target. In the past, I was inspired by music, travel, conversation, love and intimate communication. I’m also inspired by the process of trying to make sense of what’s going on while it’s happening.
DD: What kind of relationship do you have with words?
SW: I would say that maybe someone would imagine that I’m someone who loves words and language. That’s not 100% true. My allegiance and interest are not in the words themselves. I’m trying to get at the unsaid by using every tool I have in language to arrive there. The thing I’m trying to get to is hollow. It’s not an affinity of language. I do love learning languages. The languages are tools.
DD: Tell me about working with Bill T. Jones.
SW: That’s where I became a fanboy. It was and remains to be a huge honor. For him to approach me to collaborate with him. He wanted to do something surrounding my work and my words. That’s how this was born. He asked me to send him some work. He inspires me.
The contribution he has made to dance and art and for many generations of movers and dancers and interpreters of movement, he has played a great role in opening our minds to appreciate what movement and dance can bring and how it feeds us. He is a mentor. I’m lucky to be able to learn from Bill T. Jones. I hold my ground but I listen to him and trust his vision because it’s tried and true.
DD: What does poetry do for you?
SW: It helps me arrange my feelings, thoughts, and actions because for me poetry, like music, has the potential to transform not only the poet (it does that first) but also others. I see the effect of poetry on people empowering young voices.
One, it’s a tool in which I’m able to make sense of the world. It also carves that space to allow me to apply that to the world and cast spells. What does the sermon mean to the preacher? What does poetry mean to the poet? It’s an opportunity to plant a seed and dissolve or break down a wall. It offers a reset, a release.
It’s the root of many cultures. It stands at the base. It allows the possibility of the world to be imagined and understood. To be clear, I didn’t wake up and identify as a poet.
DD: I understand that this year you became a teenager.
SW: I’ve been waiting my whole life to become a teenager. I turned 13 this year. I’m a Leap Year baby. My birthday is Feb. 29. Officially, I’ve only had 13 birthdays. I’m 52, but I was so excited about finally becoming a teenager. As a Leap Year baby, I look at my maturity as an African-American man. I look at time differently. I look at time in terms of cycles. When I don’t have a birthday in a given year, I take the whole month of February and celebrate. I figure, if they take my birthday, I take their year.
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‘Motherboard Suite,’ The Ford, 2580 Cahuenga Blvd. E., Los Angeles, 8 p.m. Aug. 9, tickets are available at theford.com or via phone at 323-850-2000. This production contains nudity that may be inappropriate for attendees under 18. Discretion is advised.
Darlene Donloe is a freelance reporter for Wave Newspapers who covers South Los Angeles. She can be reached at ddonloe@gmail.com.
