Gordon Parks' Vernacular Transcriptions
The photo set (Protest Against Police Brutality / Untitled: Police Brutality Must Go) illustrate the necessary act of professing and providing testimony on white cops that vehemently swing the Billy clubs at Black people who are working to render themselves visible through protest. The first photo “Protests Against Police Brutality” illustrates a white man (whose back is turned to the camera) on the left side overlooking the protest with a firm posture. The rule of thirds in this image shows the cascading line of Black protestors holding signs with several phrases testifying to the injustices of police. The first sign signifies on the bible reference to Matthew 5:43-48 to insinuate that the word of God is not being followed by those who follow the Christian faith. The sign is held by a Black man with a stoic face and remains unbothered by the white gaze of the onlooker. The protester behind him holds the sign with both hands, “We are living in a POLICE STATE.” But the angle of the photo shows that the poster blocks the man’s and a couple of other protesters’ faces in
The setting of the “Protests Against Police Brutality” photo is much more grainy and drearier than the Black Muslim members protesting in “Untitled: Police Brutality Must Go” which points to the intentionality of the setting’s lighting given the dark nature of the issue. In that photo’s (Untitled: PB Must Go) composition, the Black Muslim contingent is showcased in a domino-effect structure to suggest what Lena Amapdu notes as the rhetorical process of “repetition [1].” Repetition, here, suggests that “[texts] evoke a certain sense of sound; its musical, flavorful rhythms deeply involve the audience by triggering emotions, effecting the same kind of rhythmic impact that poetry has on its listeners, the same kind of impact that excites a cultural or ethnic group.” This transcripted repetition of Black men holding specific signs speaks to the urge to end police brutality by the people its’ being subjected upon. Also, it elucidates the order, discipline, and steadfast dedication of the Black Muslims to the movement and the cause for protest transcribed by Malcolm X. Word to Spike Lee’s 1991 adaptation. Flanked to the left of the protestors is good ole’ “Johnny Law,” whose presence seems to not be acknowledged by the protesters. Parks shows two-thirds of the lawman’s body to illuminate the badge, suit, and stoic face, and to acknowledge that the “long arm of the law” still looms over the liberatory act of testimony and transcription.
One of the more interesting photographs that Parks curates is the vibrant, color-laden, “Untitled: Our Freedom Can’t Wait” photo which documents a communal practice in the liberatory act of protest. It also illustrates the cross-generational connection of how to actualize freedom in its domestic and international contexts. For instance, there is a distinct representation of young, middle aged, and elder Black folks who showcase several different expressions. The elder Black women look on in the distance with a sense of pride. Flanked on the left (our right) of them is a young man in the middle holding a “Muhammad Speaks” newspaper, beaming from ear to ear. One man behind him looks on with a jubilant expression, and the other on the left of him peeks around and investigates the distance with a healthy curiosity. The “Muhammad Speaks” paper showcases a photo of Malcolm X posing in front of the pyramids in Egypt during his (FBI-shadow-surveillance) trip to Africa and subsequent pilgrimage to the holy city of Mecca. Affixed atop the photo is the headline, “Our Freedom Can’t Wait!” which transcribes the urgent idea of what’s being presented at the communal gathering. The young boy, who is also dressed to the nines, gazes upon the subject of the rally. He seems to be ready, while at rest, and incredibly curious about what’s to come. He looks on with a fierce gaze, but with a delicate innocence that shows he’s ready to engage in testimony. Some subjects in the composition of the photo are still in view and blur when the perspective shifts beyond the lens, but they all seem to be participating in a Baldwin-esque transcription that “reveals the private identity… and connects one with the larger, public, communal identity.”
[1]Ampadu writes “[Repetition] as used in this study, it refers to an involvement strategy in which a word, phrase, or larger unit is used more than once to create meaning through strategies based on sound. It functions to communicate ideas and move audiences” (Ampadu 138). She also suggests “Texts that include repetition allow the audience to participate because repetition evokes a certain sense of sound; its musical, flavorful rhythms deeply involve the audience by triggering emotions, effecting the same kind of rhythmic impact that poetry has on its listeners, the same kind of impact that excites a cultural or ethnic group” (139).