By Nylah Burton

Last week, Taylor Swift delivered a performance that many felt resembled Beyonce’s iconic and unique Coachella showcase which was rooted in the traditions of Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). With Beychella fresh in our minds following the release of Homecoming, Swift’s choice to present a similarly outfitted marching band and to copy certain elements of Beyonce’s own outfits and poses was shockingly offensive.

This is not the first time Swift copied Beyonce. In August 2016, Swift released her video for the single “Look What You Made Me Do,” which incorporated much of the aesthetic and visuals of Beyonce’s music video “Formation, and featured racial separation of dancers by race and skin color.

But Swift is not merely copying Beyoncé. She’s mocking Beyoncé. And this difference assumes a level of intent that brings forth deliberate malice and cultural disruption.

Any and everyone in the salacious music industry could have told the country singer turned popstar that the inevitable conclusion of her choosing to structure her performance in this way would cause outrage from Black people (specifically women and queerfolk who fuel the most striking elements of pop culture).

But Swift doesn’t care, because as with all displays of minstrelsy, outrage is of no concern.

In this act of mimicry, I see a bland display of white mediocrity wrapped into minstrelsy, a historically familiar act of anti-Black racist cultural violence that functions as a vehicle for white artists to indulge in a form of oppression that displays Black folk as senseless and idiotic, and thus mocking Black culture to the delight of white audiences.

Over the years, minstrel shows have transformed in ways that are more subtle, palatable, and latched in to a society that increasingly strives for a post-racial utopia that will never come.

White hip-hop artists like Iggy Azalea frequently incorporate elements of minstrelsy in their work, but instead of universal outrage and retribution, “debates” about cultural appropriation is now an expected social feature.

Ariana Grande has been accused of intentionally darkening her skin to make herself pass for a brown Latinx woman when she is really white. And non-Black artists of color, like Lily Singh and Awkwafina, have also ‘subverted’ racist stereotypes of Asian women by mimicking Black women.

However, each form of minstrelsy allows those with more societal power than Black people to experiment with our culture and then discard it when it’s convenient.

Taylor Swift didn’t wear blackface at the Billboard Music Awards. Nor did she put on a ‘blaccent’ and a gold chain. But the envy underlying her mockery is a fundamental characteristic of minstrelsy.

The social construct of whiteness requires its holders to give up some or all of their culture in exchange for power. Because of that, many white people feel culturally empty and will engage in acts of minstrelsy or cultural appropriation to free themselves of constraints of whiteness and as a salve for what they perceive they lost.

In The Washington Post, writer Marc Aronson says this is emblematic of the white audiences’ desire “to be endlessly reassured of their superiority to [B]lack people while demonstrating their fascination and even admiration of [B]lack culture.”

This is also the same envy that has led to the widespread plagiarism of Black artists by famous white musicians like Elvis Presley, Madonna, and Katy Perry. And for non-Black artists of color, they often feel suffocated by restrictive stereotypes of who they should be. Instead of confronting that oppression at its core, it is sometimes easier for them to ‘rebel’ against stereotypes by engaging in forms of Black culture considered deviant or edgy.

In recent years other white artists, like Miley Cyrus, have exhibited more outrageous and clear examples of minstrelsy with gold chains and teeth, African hairstyles, the sexualization of Black bodies, and the shameless appropriation of African American Vernacular English (AAVE).

But Swift’s minstrelsy is much more subtle. Both times she mocked Beyonce, she incorporated just enough callbacks to the singer’s work so that it would be clear who she was mocking, but so that she could simultaneously maintain the perceived innocence attributed to her white womanhood (which she leans so heavily on), transforming her into the victim whenever someone points out her plagiarism.

It’s a form of gaslighting and minimizing that is characteristic of minstrelsy, repeated every time someone insists that their actions aren’t cultural appropriation, but genuine respect for other art forms.

Taylor Swift’s performance at the Billboard Music Awards was completely underwhelming, as was her “Look What You Made Me Do” video. In contrast, both Beyonce’s Lemonade album and Homecoming performance were iconic pieces of art that masterfully discussed Black pain, joy, love, and spirituality.

Some might see this as evidence of Swift’s failure. But minstrelsy is never intended to match the quality of the Black art it mocks.

Writing about the , Samantha Ainsley says that although Black music “showcases [B]lack suffering, mainstream America receives it not with compassion but with mockery—white supremacy prevents an emotional connection.”

We see this illuminated among white hip-hop or R&B artists. Black people invented and nourished those genres as a medium through which we could discuss our specific concerns, traumas, celebrations, and desires. Although white artists may use the instrumental elements of the genre, most—like Macklemore or Justin Timberlake—are not able to do justice to the emotional weight behind these art forms.

Similarly, Beyonce’s performances were deeply moving for most Black people to such a profound degree that some deem it a spiritual experience. Swift’s cheapening of this phenomena was an offensive continuation of the mocking of the most poignant artistic expressions of Blackness.  

The violence that is minstrelsy has always rested in the unequal power dynamics that underlie it. And this situation is no different. Beyonce’s work—especially of late—is a celebration of being Black, including an acknowledgment of the violence of our past. For Swift to mock an experience she will never suffer from is for her to use unequal power dynamics to exploit Black pain for publicity.

In isolation, Swift’s acts of racism could be seen as accidents, or a result of ignorance or miscommunication. Together, however, they create a pattern of intentional racism. If Swift wanted to distance herself completely from racism, she would not continuously fan the fires by mocking the same prominent Black artist repeatedly.

She would not lie about a conversation with Black rapper Kanye West, framing him as someone who included her in his lyrics without permission.  She would not release a music video with only white people, set in colonial-era Africa. She would not pose for a picture with a man who is clearly wearing a swastika.

And given that we’re in a time when lethal white supremacist violence is yet again rising, she would not remain relatively silent on her positioning in the alt-right as an “Aryan goddess.”

But the commitment to mocking Black female artists through minstrelsy is a cultural tradition embedded in the DNA of this country that attempts to reinforce white control over Black art. Each time artists engage in this behavior, they are rewarded with publicity and attention. And they are able to call on the power of white victimhood to protect them from any real accountability.

Their messages and actions reinforce a critical part of white society: their perceived right to do what they want, say what they want and take what they want without any consideration of cultural sensitivity or tact.

 

Suggested Reading

“Appropriation is not a matter of authenticity“ — DJ Ferguson, RaceBaitr (November 13, 2018)

“For every white woman who appropriates Blackness, there’s a Black man behind her“ — Daniel Johnson, RaceBaitr (June 15, 2017)

“I’m done answering questions about cultural appropriation“— Nami Thompson, Wear Your Voice Magazine (March 29th, 2018)

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