With texts by Hilton Als, Stephen Best, Daphne A. Brooks, Teju Cole, Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Barry Jenkins, Jamaica Kincaid, David Leeming, and Darryl Pinckney Design by Joseph Logan
When James Baldwin died in 1987 at the age of sixty-three, he left behind an extraordinary body of work. Novels, poems, film scripts, and, perhaps most indelibly, essays constituted the great artist’s writing, which was not divisible from his work and subsequent fame as a civil rights activist. A friend to and supporter of Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Medgar Evers, Baldwin was the voice of a movement—a voice that struggled after his early recognition as a creator to retain the author’s “I,” while taking on the “We” of his people.
In God Made My Face, edited by Hilton Als on the occasion of the centenary of Baldwin’s birth, texts by Hilton Als, Stephen Best, Daphne A. Brooks, Teju Cole, Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Barry Jenkins, Jamaica Kincaid, David Leeming, and Darryl Pinckney create a kind of mosaic, one that not only mirror’s Baldwin’s various voices but examines, closely, his sui generis contributions to cinema, theater, the essay, and Black American critical studies—including queerness. Each author speaks from a personal, informed perspective—through voices that are both imbued with Baldwin’s deeply personal, anguished, and enlightened voice and his belief that, ultimately, because we are human, we share the potential to love and connect.
With images of artwork by Diane Arbus, Eugène Atget, Richard Avedon, Don Bachardy, Alvin Baltrop, Anthony Barboza, Njideka Akunyili Crosby, Beauford Delaney, Marlene Dumas, Glenn Ligon, George McCalman, Alice Neel, Elle Pérez, Cameron Rowland, Kara Walker, James Welling, and Larry Wolhandler
Hilton Als is an American writer and theater critic who writes for The New Yorker magazine. Previously, he had been a staff writer for The Village Voice and editor-at-large at Vibe magazine.
His 1996 book The Women focuses on his mother, who raised him in Brooklyn, Dorothy Dean, and Owen Dodson, who was a mentor and lover of Als. In the book, Als explores his identification of the confluence of his ethnicity, gender and sexuality, moving from identifying as a "Negress" and then an "Auntie Man", a Barbadian term for homosexuals.
Als's 2013 book 'White Girls' continued to explore race, gender, identity in a series of essays about everything from the AIDS epidemic to Richard Pryor's life and work.
In 2000, Als received a Guggenheim fellowship for creative writing and the 2002–03 George Jean Nathan Award for Dramatic Criticism. In 2004 he won the Berlin Prize of the American Academy in Berlin, which provided him half a year of free working and studying in Berlin.
Als has taught at Smith College, Wesleyan, and Yale University, and his work has also appeared in The Nation, The Believer, and the New York Review of Books.
Looks like (and can function as) a coffee-table book, but deserves to read and not flipped through. Each essay curated here by Hilton Als talks about James Baldwin's legacy through a different perspective; friends that knew him personally, contemporaries that worked alongside him, and artists inspired by him. The artwork photography is from the accompanying group exhibition: God Made My Face: A Collective Portrait of James Baldwin at David Zwirner New York in 2019.
This is a really good collection of essays about James Baldwin accompanied by a selection of artworks associated either directly with him or with his work. Very interesting and enjoyable, and a well produced book.
Such a lovely collective portrait of James Baldwin. The essays from Barry Jenkins, Daphne A. Brooks, and Hilton Als really stood out to me. I loved Jenkin’s film adaption of “If Beale Street Could Talk,” so it was such a treat to read about his connection to the original text. I also love the inclusion of art & photography throughout the book!
From Chapter 1, Hilton Als —> “I think it's important to remember how you feel when you are alone as your-self. I don't mean the person who is part of the modern condition, alone with his or her or their thoughts, but the artist alone, that person whose deepest preoccupations, or should I say engagements, are with those twilight hours of the mind when the body doesn't exist and the scars that the family inflict on their difference are not the point of the day, the thing to avoid of put makeup on, to drink away or excuse. I mean the person who is alone with their queerness and who despite the facts still hopes they won't eventually be left alone with it.”
In honor of Baldwin’s centennial birthday, I’ve listened to podcasts, watched YouTube videos, and read this collection of essays. I was not familiar with most of the essayists and enjoyed reading their individual perspectives on one of our country’s greatest writers and activists. The title and cover are perfect along with the included artwork. I was left wanting to know more and do plan to reread Go Tell It on the Mountain soon.
after reading you do feel closer to the writer and his urgencies. in a time of unparalleled progress for queer and black people’s rights, the current political climate, the rising right wing pose an existential threat. the antidote I believe, for these scary times, could be found in Baldwins work, my search has thus startet - I’ll let you know once I find it