Grace

Gracejones

This week, I went to see the documentary: Grace Jones: Bloodlight and Bami.

The film definitely meandered, although ultimately it was a mixture of three components.

It began with her notable live performance. Theatrical, visually striking and of course, entertaining- with hula-hoops, masks, and bizarre hats. They pepper footage of her performances throughout the film. At one point during an interview, she says that all of the electricity could go out in the theatre, complete darkness, no microphones or music and she could still captivate the audience (I find this hypothetical situation fascinating).

Throughout the film she visits several figures from her past- her family and neighbours in Jamaica as well as her former partner and collaborator Jean-Paul Goude. During many of these visits, she discusses her difficult relationship with her pious and abusive Father. At one point she talks about some insight her acting coach had on her performances, which are famously described as androgynous. He proposes that in a lot of her performances she evokes the rage of her violent Father. This makes watching the performances all the more interesting. She is quite the performance artist, even at the age of 60.

Finally, the films takes us through the recording of her album and the struggle to control the process and to maintain her artistic vision. We see some part of the business side that comes part and parcel with any work that intends on having a platform. There is one part of the film that shows her in France doing a rehearsal of La Vie En Rose to a studio audience. She finds that they have made the decision to have her perform while sitting on a stool, surrounded by young dancing girls who are wearing lingerie. After her performance, she explains to the producer that she looks like a madame of a brothel- not an image she wants to be associated with. He denies that this is how the performance is going to be perceived, that they are just beautiful girls who are dancing. Exasperated, she responds vehemently: ‘We are visual artists! We know what we see!*’

* I am paraphrasing.

I am not sure how interesting the film would be to someone who does not know about or care for Grace Jones. To me, she is absolutely fascinating. In my room I have the back cover of one of her records displayed on top of my bookshelf; a symbol of strength, sexuality, and of powerful and complicated women.

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In 2014, I bought my first Grace Jones album in a record shop called Haggle Vinyl in London, England. This is where I discovered that record covers from around the world are made with a flimsy kind of card-stock (at least in decades past). The record store owner was a grumpy, excitable character. While I was thumbing through piles of records, he was momentarily fascinated by a young girl from Hong Kong. He proclaimed to the entire store: ‘she is a drummer in a band and the owner of a Jazz bar in Hong Kong- fascinating!’ I looked up expecting to see some version of ‘exotic girl drummer in a band’ but found that she was more meek and unassuming, blushing at the sudden captive audience.

At this store, I also bought: The Sugarcubes, Emmylou Harris, Peggy Lee, and the most withered copy of Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road to exist.

When I went to pay for my bounty the record store owner pointed a finger at me and said “I hear an accent! Australian?”

“No-“

“No! Let me guess… American? Yes, American!”

“Actually, I am Canadian.”

“Oh. Hm! So, 5 records today?”

And so he was not quite fascinated with me. But I do have him to thank for being the first of many international record store owners to incite love and well…fascination for grumpy, excitable characters that spend their days with music and stacks of records.