Persona Lockdown

Image used under a Creative Commons license courtesy of  Sheila Steele.

Brentin Mocke, who I know from his days at The American Prospect and general Washington journalism stuff, files a fascinating dispatch from Voodoo Fest in Vibe.  It sounds like a great show, especially because I'm jealous that he got to see Janelle Monae live.  But this paragraph in particular caught my eye:

It was an amazingly strong showing from Em, who throughout much of his career relied on D12 brethren, Proof, 50 Cent or Dre to help him command the crowd. Friday night at Voodoo, he needed none of that. No backstory beef with Benzinoor Ja Rule. No personal problems with Kim Mathers or his mother overshadowing the performance. In fact, when he got to "Cleaning Out My Closet" it felt more like a fictional tale--vis-á-vis "Stan"--than it did something real, as Em's absence from the rap tabloids seems to have faded fans' consciousness of just how much his life was an open book for so long.

It's a useful reminder that it isn't only women whose art gets caught up in their personal lives.  It works across genders.  And there's not necessarily a right choice.  Music can function like memoir, drawing its power from the fact that it is specific, and that it actually happened.  Art like that draws power from, and to, the artist at hand.  Or art can be powerful because it provides a generalized experience that anyone can relate to, radiating power out and giving it to the audience.  But no one's locked in one form or another forever.  You can withdraw your life, keep it private, and change the way people perceive the same art that was powerful in one direction earlier in your career.