kagablog

Private View: 17 October, 6 - 8:30 pm at APT Gallery, Deptford, London

Photographers:
Dafni Anesti, Alex-Jean Baptiste, Santiago Escobar, Ananda Ferlauto, Claude Dernoeden, Aya Ikeno, George Kasolas, Jaemini Kim, David Kendall, Lanis Levy, Rebecca Locke, Glen Mottershead, Karl Obulo, Simon Pennec, Michael Wayne Plant, Suzie Rendell, Ruby Savage, Peter Stanners, Savinien-Zuri M. Thomas, Ariadne van de Ven, Manuel Vazquez

Curated by Wiebke Gronemeyer, Yida He and Nina Trivedi.

From a wide vareity of locations, with a large range of technologies, with a great kaleidoscope of themes, too far south frames twenty visual responses to urban spaces — sometimes right in the centre but frequently in the margins, peripheries and assorted overlooked corners. In spaces such as kitchens and wastelands, backstreets and road junctions, gated communities and street markets, inner-cities and outer-suburbs, the diversity of urban culture is discovered when the conflicting role of the image becomes questioned between presentation and representation. The twenty photographers emerging from the Photography and Urban Cultures masters degree at Goldsmiths share an engagement with urban cultures and their environments.

In Walter Benjamin’s evocative phrase, they all ‘botanise the asphalt’, looking at the global and the local, the everyday and the exceptional, history and geography, origins and aspirations. As a methodology as well as an intervention, the photographic dialogue issued in too far south invites us to rethink our relationship with urban spaces, places and cultures from Docklands to Tokyo, Brooklyn to Bognor, Amsterdam to Dubai and Madrid to Barking.

APT Gallery
Harold Wharf, 6 Creekside
Deptford, London SE8 4SA
www.aptstudios.org
Transport links: London Bridge to Deptford High St, Docklands Light Railway to Deptford Bridge

Exhibition runs from 17th October 2008 - 2nd November 2008
Opening Times: Thursday - Sunday 12 - 5pm
Web: www.toofarsouth.co.uk

1. Introduction

‘Protest March Against Zwarte Piet Cancelled.’ This was a headline on the front page of Dutch newspaper NRC Handelsblad on 29 August 2008. Emotions ran high when two foreign artists organised a demonstration against Zwarte Piet as part of their artistic interpretation of Dutch culture for an exhibition entitled Be(come)ing Dutch. According to the artists, Zwarte Piet is racist and colonial. Their aim was to point this out to Dutch society with a protest march through Eindhoven, home to the Van Abbe museum, which is staging the exhibition. After personal threats towards the artists as well as the museum – one email stated that if they proceeded with the demonstration, the museum would get burnt down, greetings ‘Zwarte Piet’ - the initiators, on the advice of the local police, decided to cancel their ‘performance’ against Zwarte Piet.

At this point in time I too have come to realise that the figure of Zwarte Piet is a negative image that has a dark past. However I also realise that most Dutch people are in favour of this tradition and become sensitive when it is criticised. Unlike Krauss and Bauer, I am Dutch and I grew up with Zwart Piet. To me Zwarte Piet (Zwarte is Dutch for black and Piet is the Dutch spelling for Pete, see image 1.2 for a representation) was part of my own tradition of celebrating Christmas. Piet is a servant of Sinterklaas (Saint Nicolas). Together they mysteriously ‘visit’ the Netherlands at the end of November until December 6; during this time they appear sporadically to check on children’s behaviour and leave treats during the night in shoes which have been placed strategically by a chimney, accompanied by carrots, poems and letters to the ‘good saint’. As a child I loved the celebration: the excitement, the joy, the sweets and of course the presents. Unlike Krauss and Bauer I can identify with this celebration and what it means to Dutch people even though I object just as strongly as they do, to the image of Zwarte Piet.

It was not until my teens that I started having second thoughts about Sinterklaas’s blackface helper. As I became interested in the history of African Americans through hip hop music, I started seeing resemblances between Zwarte Piet and racist figures like ‘coons’ and ‘minstrels’, whom Zwarte Piet resembles in appearance and character. As I started to question Zwarte Piet, any thoughts I expressed that implied it was a negative image were severely rejected by my surroundings. Most people around me: friends, colleagues, teachers, acquaintances, refused to understand my point of view and dismissed my arguments with explanations entailing Zwarte Piet’s innocence.

When I reached London in 2007 I had the chance to explore the matter from a fresh and different point of view. Starting my MA course brought me into contact with people from a range of different countries and with them I was able to talk, explain, defend, argue, rage and reminisce openly about my once beloved tradition. This helped me to explore and understand more about Dutch society as a whole. It also confirmed me in my belief that maintaining the tradition of Zwarte Piet is absolutely wrong. While gaining historical insight into the origins of this stereotypical figure I became interested in trying to understand why the Dutch are so resistant to any criticism of their tradition and why they refuse to engage in any kind of open discussion about it. I also began to wonder why it was that I had started to feel so outraged by a celebration involving a blackface servant when so few of my contemporaries felt the same. Explaining and questioning this resistance within Dutch society is the major focus of my project. At the same time, I am also trying to formulate my own personal perspective on Zwarte Piet and understand what has led me to reject the tradition. Comprehending the roots of this matter will, I hope, make the topic discussable in a pragmatic way.

2. The Golden Age of Racial Stereotypes

There are many different explanations of the origin of Zwarte Piet; however to me it is clear that the present-day figure is a descendant of the historical stereotype of an African or black man, which is rooted in Europe’s colonial past. Before showing how the Dutch figure is related to this stereotype, I will trace its historical development and the negative baggage it carries.

Throughout my education, I was taught about the glorious ‘Golden Age’ of Holland in the 17th century. This was the period in which Holland blossomed and triumphed, economically and culturally. We heard little however about the imperialism that was imposed on peoples and lands in other parts of the world. The exploitation of other countries and the trade in peoples from Africa were mentioned light-heartedly and were always subordinate to the more important aspect of this period: the success of the Netherlands. Allison Blakely explains in his book Blacks in the Dutch World:

‘The eternal battle against the sea to gain and maintain a tenuous hold on the land fostered a constant concern with material well-being and with commerce. The mastery of the sea gained from their struggle at home coupled with this concern led the Dutch in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries to build one of history’s most impressive trading empires.’ (1993, p.2)

As I experienced myself, growing up in the Netherlands, the wealth and reputation gained during this period is still of great significance to the Dutch and pride in the achievements of the Golden Age are still central to the Dutch identity.

Much of the prosperity of the Golden Age was due to the activities of the VOC (Dutch acronym for United East India Company) and the equivalent WIC (West India Company), which focussed on trade to the Americas. These companies maintained fleets of trading ships, which for a period during the 16th century had almost complete monopoly over the Pacific and Atlantic Ocean. Together they turned ‘the Republic of the Netherlands into Europe’s leading power and trade nation by the 17th century.’ (translated from Wit over Zwart, 1990, p. 19)

One of the chief sources of revenue for these companies was the trade in slaves. According to Blakely (1993, p.7) from 1654 on, the slave trade became the main occupation of the West India Company and ‘Dutch involvement in the trade would remain sufficiently high for them to account for shipment of some half-million Africans to the Americas before it ended.’ Blakely also argues that:

‘The Dutch role in this trade contains much of the explanation of Dutch attitudes and practices towards Blacks during the slavery era and even beyond. It accounts for important inconsistencies in behaviour and stark contrasts between the prevailing values at home and those in the colonies.’ (ibid, p. 4)

It was during this period of colonizing and slave trading that Europeans came into contact with Africans and started to construct a representation of the ‘Other’ which Michael Pickering describes in his book Stereotyping (2001, p.51). In White on Black (1990), Jan Nederveen Pieterse analyses the European perception of African and Black peoples and points out that one of the first major stereotypes was that of the African “savage”, which depicted Black peoples as dangerous, vicious and a threat to Westerners, as a means to justify colonization. In other representations they were linked to animals and nature and were thus less evolved, or even ‘sub-human’, reflecting the belief that Europeans were more technologically advanced and therefore ‘civilised’. Pickering (2001, p. 51) analyses a similar construction, which he calls ‘the white racial phantasm of the Primitive’ which came into prominence during the later nineteenth century. ‘Western societies classifying themselves as modern and civilised relied heavily on the contrast between their own sense of advancement and the idea of racially backward and inferior societies.’ (ibid) The ‘Primitive Other’ underlined the progress of Western civilisation. The Primitive was something that did not have to be feared but helped. As power in the colonies was established Africans no longer needed to be seen as a threat but as grateful, subordinate peoples. So, the ‘Other’ could no longer be depicted as the enemy that needed to be tamed but had to be portrayed as obedient and content under colonial rule. And so the ‘Savage’ was replaced by the ‘Primitive’, who was a more childlike, intuitive and spontaneous ‘Other’. In other words, ‘the Western depictions of Black peoples demonstrated and propagated stereotypes as a means to further different agendas in Europe and America.’ (Brown and Tavares, 2004, p.94)

The visual stereotypes that came with these representations accentuated their ‘given characteristics’. The depiction (see image 2.1) also took away any kind of individualism and was mostly based on strong visual symbols (see image 2.2) like an entirely black face, full round red lips, and bright white teeth and eyes. No further personalisation was included to exclude any individual identity.

These examples of representation of Black peoples: the ‘Savage’, the ‘Primitive’, the ‘Jolly’, were images created by and in favour of Europeans. Pickering (2001, p.75) shows how ‘the ‘Other’ is constructed in and for its subordination, in and for its ‘inferiority’ to the self-in-dominance who has produced it’ and argues that the main problem with stereotyping is that it denies people the right to represent themselves.

3. Zwarte Piet as a reminder of Holland’s colonial past

Many different and conflicting explanations have been and are still given for the origin of the Sinterklaas tradition and the figure of Zwarte Piet. Children are generally told that Sinterklaas lives in Spain and Zwarte Piet is often referred to a ‘Moor’ while other stories claim that Piet’s black face comes from soot which has rubbed off as he climbs down the chimney. It is not my intention to discuss the various claims of these myths as they do not influence the main argument here, which is that, whatever his origin may be, the present-day image of Zwarte Piet has a strong resemblance to the European stereotypes of African slaves created during colonial times. I will start by discussing the resemblances between these stereotypes and Zwarte Piet, and then go on to articulate the problems of maintaining such a stereotype in contemporary Dutch society.

The four identifying features of a ‘Zwarte Piet’ are similar to the visual stereotype mentioned above: painted face, bright red lips, a curly black wig and golden hoops in the ears. It is interesting to note that the wigs worn by the Zwarte Piet’s impersonators are sold as Afro wigs or ‘Neger pruik’ which translates literally as Negro wig. The clothes are based on those of a 16th century Spanish page, consisting usually of brightly coloured satin and velvet. There is a clear physical similarity between these features and those of Sambos and Golliwogs and other stereotypical representations of Africans or Black peoples (see image 3.1-3.3).

The character of a ‘Zwarte Piet’ is that of a silly, playful and dumb, but loyal servant of Sinterklaas. In previous years a Piet was more mischievous and fear-inspiring. He would punish naughty children with a bunch of twigs and take them to Spain in a sack. As parents’ attitudes to child-rearing and punishment have changed, so too Zwarte Piet has lost his scary aspects and morphed into a playful figure of fun: he hands out sweets and provides entertainment through his silly, mischievous behaviour. One Piet, for instance, whom I asked if I could photograph, grabbed a rubbish bin and pretended to eat the trash, to give a proper impression of a Zwarte Piet. Piets have no individuality in either appearance or character; they all look and behave the same. Their main purpose is to mess things up to the amusement of the onlookers and their escapades are reported on national TV during the Sinterklaas news, a popular program that is broadcast every evening at 6 o’clock. Zwarte Piet’s antics stand in sharp contrast to the image of Sinterklaas who is wise, gentle, powerful and white, and who inevitably, in the Sinterklaas news, always saves the day.

Even though most Dutch people will argue that there is no relation between Zwarte Piet and a stereotype of a black person, the above description shows a clear resemblance to all three stereotypical representations of Africans outlined previously: the ‘Savage’, the ‘Primitive’ and the ‘Jolly’. The figure of Zwarte Piet is clearly related to the image created of Africans during the period of the slave trade. It derives from a figure which is related to racial imagery designed during the Golden Age, though this is an aspect of the Golden Age which most would prefer to forget.

4. Zwarte Piet in multi-cultural Holland

While there were still relatively few Africans and descendants of Africans in Europe, the fact that Zwarte Piet was a racist stereotype could remain relatively unnoticed. However according to Blakely (1993, p.13), in the 1970s more than 225,000 immigrants from Surinam and the Dutch Antilles moved to their Dutch ‘motherland’. As Blakely (ibid) points out, it was at this time that the past united with the present and ‘their belonging now is just one of the consequences of the colonial past, which contributed vitally to Dutch wealth and glory.’ Present-day Holland is officially ‘multi-cultural’ and acceptance of difference is the official creed. Yet the coming of Black peoples to Holland has also caused friction and debate as people who were tolerant in theory sometimes found it hard to accept neighbours from different countries and backgrounds in practice. Anneke Stoffelen (translated from Volkskrant, 24 July 2008), writing about the changes in Dutch society, articulates this point: ‘no longer could one fantasize of primitive or exotic Blacks; because now they could simply be your neighbour.’

The arrival of people descended from African slaves also started debate about Dutch traditions, as Surinamese newcomers found themselves being mistaken for a Zwarte Piet. Surinamese Rudi Kagi mentions in his book entitled The First Negro (2006) the experience of Eugene Lafour who arrived in The Netherlands in the early fifties. Eugene hated his first twenty years in Holland. He described his experiences as follows:

‘Because I was dark of color I was constantly shouted at on the street: “Zwarte Piet, Zwart Piet!” It turned my stomach, the Netherlands was so bigoted.’ (translated from Kagi, p. 35)

Dutch people themselves also started to link the newcomers from Surinam with the image of Zwarte Piet: people who were acting as Piet took on a Surinamese accent in their Dutch. For many Surinamese the end of November has become a distressing period, as summed up in a verse displayed on a banner at a recent demonstration against a public statue in which a Surinamese hero is presented naked like a ‘primitive’:

Elk jaar heb ik verdriet
Door Zwarte Piet
Nu elke dag voel ik mij ontzettend dom
Door dit standbeeld van Anton de Kom.
(Volkskrant, 24 July 2008)

This translates roughly as:

Every year I feel sad
Because of Zwarte Piet
Now every day I feel stupid
Because of this statue of Anton de Kom

Even though many people argue that the Surinamese enjoy the Sinterklaas festival and don’t take offence at Zwarte Piet, there are obviously some who do. I was struck in this respect by an observation from a twelve-year old mixed-race boy whom I interviewed during my research (Amsterdam 18 November 2007, see image 4.1). I asked him whether he liked playing a Zwarte Piet and he answered: ‘I’ve done it now for several years…but I’ve been Zwarte Piet my whole life’. The effect of Zwarte Piet on children has yet to be fully examined. In my conversations with people about this topic, it was often said that children are unaware of racism and racial imagery and Zwarte Piet is therefore harmless. There are many examples, like the conversation cited above, which indicate that children are indeed aware of their ‘colour’ and its status, and that this does indeed contribute to the construction of their identity. Hence I would like to point out that it can not be stated, as it often is, that the image of Zwarte Piet has no effect at all on the psyche and development of children growing up in the Netherlands.

Moreover the effect of being mistaken for a Zwarte Piet should not be underestimated. When a person is ‘Othered’ into a stereotype, this has an effect, which is defined by Pickering (2001, p.77) as ‘generating an experience of yourself as an object, the object of the view that casts you as an Other.’ This experience he argues is linked to W.E.B. Du Bois’s words from the book The Souls Of Black Folk (1903, p. in which he famously describes ‘…a peculiar sensation, this double consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others…’ as Pickering (ibid) continues ‘you are torn by this dualistic vision, you as yourself in your strivings for positive self-identity and you as a constructed low-Other.’ He goes on to explain the damaging effect of this as follows:

‘It is to be imprisoned in an identity that harms you. You are both silenced and spoken for. You are seen but not recognised. You are identified but denied an identity you can call your own. Your identity is split, broken, dispersed into its abjected images, its alienated representations.’ (2001, p.77-78)

Based on this analysis, it is clear to me that the existence of Zwarte Piet is offensive, harmful and unacceptable in contemporary Dutch society.

As one would expect there have been attempts to change the celebration. One such initiative was an attempt to get people to change the colour of Zwarte Piet by introducing multi-coloured or ‘rainbow’ Piets. This initiative was introduced in a Dutch TV programme, ‘Het Sinterklaas Journaal’ (NPS, November 2006). They were not popular with the general public however and this idea did not catch on. According to newspaper De Telefgraaf (29 November 2006) the Rainbow Piets led to huge confusion among children and annoyance to parents. So the blackface tradition returned the following year.

From outside Holland there have also been attempts to change the tradition. Brown and Tavares (2004, p.96) note that the Pan African Congress, an organization that sets out to repair the damage caused by historical oppression of Black peoples, filed a petition to a resistant Dutch Parliament in November 2003 calling for the abolishment of Zwarte Piet. The petition outlines the following reasons:

- Abolishment of Zwarte Piet because of the racist elements and its psychological effect on the black Dutch children of African decent.
- Zwarte Piet has similarities with the remnants of concepts from the transatlantic Dutch colonial slave past.
- Sinterklaas has comparable racist elements with the American minstrel show which were eventually abolished because of the very racist elements.

There are clear grounds for getting rid of this damaging and racist stereotype. I will now go on to look at the official Dutch line that tolerates Zwarte Piet as part of traditional Dutch culture.

5 Official support for a figure of fun

‘Holland can do it again: that VOC mentality’ was a statement made by Jan Peter Balkenede (www.elsevier.nl), Dutch prime-minister, during the annual opening of parliament in 2006. With this statement he wished to reinforce the spirit of the Dutch colonial past, illustrating its importance to Dutch heritage and society to this day. This naive perception of the past is somewhat similar to the official Dutch attitude to the Sinterklaas celebration whereby Zwarte Piet is perceived as a positive, harmless figure. During the few weeks when these mysterious figures are around, all of Holland takes part in the game. Shop windows are suitably decked out (see image 5.1), traditional songs can be heard everywhere and the Sint’s doings are followed by Dutch TV crews and reported in the evening news. According to an official St. Nicolas website (www.stnicholascenter.org) ‘In today’s world, the Piets are enormously popular; the Dutch see them as more fun-loving and mischievous than the more stately bishop.’ There is thus strong official endorsement of the festivity and of the figure of Zwarte Piet.

Support also comes from businesses, which see the celebrations as a means of generating considerable extra income. Most highstreet shops take an active part in promoting the festivities. There is even an annual music event called Pietenpop (Piets’ Pop) in which Cool Piet and Fifty Sint (referring to rapper 50 Cent) come in to perform. An article on the event (translated from the Volkskrant, 26 November, 2007) describes the celebration as a marketing success and states that Sinterklaas has made a complete comeback and is more popular than Father Christmas. So, far from being on the decline, the Sinterklaas festival is flourishing, with official and commercial support. As well as being a commercial success it is also deeply embedded in Dutch culture, particularly in schools. In the period leading up to Dec 5th most primary schools are fully focused on the celebration (see image 5.2-5.5). Children are made to draw pictures of Zwarte Piet and write poems for the Sint. The entire school is decorated with the symbols of the festivity.

In short, the official Dutch line is that children enjoy the festival and since they are not racist they cannot associate Zwarte Piet with anything negative. In addition Sinterklaas is a typically Dutch tradition, as opposed to Christmas, and many people are anxious to protect local customs against ever-increasing influence of English and American culture. Above all, though, it is fun and no one intends any harm.

It is apparent that there are two cognitions here that clash with each other. On the one hand Sinterklaas is totally harmless, positive celebration, with nothing racist about it. On the other hand, Zwarte Piet is a stereotypical image of a black person, which is demeaning and painful to some members of the Dutch community. I agree with Brown and Tavares (2004, p. 97) when they argue that ‘what needs to be addressed is not whether this tradition (or elements of it) is racist, but why the majority of Dutch society is denying the truth that it is.’

Brown and Tavares (2004, p. 95) attempt to explain the general acceptance of Zwarte Piet’s beloved dumb and childish character by stating that it is based on the fact that ‘this kind of humour serves as part of the culture of domination. Laughter stigmatises and thus demarcates the frontier between cultural worlds.’

Another way of approaching the discrepancy between these two incompatible views is to examine it in relation to Leon Festinger’s Theory of Cognitive Dissonance (1957). In his book, Festinger explains how people deal with a notion he calls ‘dissonance’. Dissonance occurs when a person is confronted with forms of knowledge or cognitions that are inconsistent with each other. This leads to attempts to reduce the dissonance, which Festinger (1957, p.4) believes to be ‘a basic process in humans.’ Behaviour aimed at decreasing dissonance varies, depending on the magnitude of the matter. Dealing with dissonance means that one has to choose one cognition over another which is not necessarily easy. As a consequence, a typical reaction is to deny the reality of one of the cognitions, so as to eliminate its value.

I would argue that Dutch society is in a state of denial when it comes to recognizing the negative aspects of the celebration of Sinterklaas. This denial is a direct reaction to the dissonance that is involved in this matter. I believe there are two main issues that confront the Dutch: dealing with a painful aspect of the past and the possibility of losing a part of a tradition that is dear to them. These two factors help to explain the strong resistance and even hostility towards any form of critique. According to Festinger’s theory this is a common reaction to dissonance.

If people chose to reduce dissonance by acknowledging that the contemporary figure of Zwarte Piet stems from colonial imagery and has negative implications, it would at the same time mean that they had to recognise that there were negative parts of Dutch history. This is something that people would rather not know about. When I look at my own education and the lack of teaching about the Dutch involvement in the slave trade this becomes apparent. Enlightenment about these less ethical sides of the ‘Golden Age’ is painful. So the Dutch would rather avoid this aspect of their history. To some politicians, merely mentioning slavery is threatening. In a recent speech to the Dutch parliament, member Rita Verdonk argued that ‘placing monuments in remembrance of slavery would only depict ‘us’ as baddies’ (translated from speech, 3 April 2008 TV programme Nova) and should thus be avoided. In the same speech she argues that any attack on Zwarte Piet is an attack on Dutch values and society. She is supported in this by a far right politician, Geert Wilders, who spoke out strongly against the demonstration mentioned in the introduction, arguing that ‘Dutch traditions should be left intact.’ (translated from Volkskrant 30 August 2008) These are just a few examples of how the Netherlands, far from coming to terms with its painful past, is busy trying to avoid it.

The reason that this denial of reality has been able to survive so long is because until now there has been relatively little resistance to it. According to Festinger (1957, p.198) denial of a reality is only possible when a large group of people is able to maintain an opinion when there is little resistance and a lot of social support (see image 5.6). He describes this as follows ‘if everyone believes it, it most certainly must be true.’ (ibid, p.200)

Another consequence of admitting the negative aspects of the Sinterklaas celebration also explains the determined resistance of the Dutch to critique. Accepting the new cognition that Zwarte Piet is unacceptable would force them to change the celebration. This change would mean losing Zwarte Piet but even more importantly, the Sinterklaas celebration might never be the same again. People would then lose something which they associate with the happiest memories of their childhood. I think that these are the thoughts that trigger people to their fierce denial and great resistance. Taking Beverly Skeggs and her book Class, Self, Culture (2004 p.19) into account, it could be stated that Zwarte Piet belongs to Dutch national capital. It ‘carries the signs and capital of national belonging which becomes important when the concept of ‘self’ is investigated.’ Losing Zwarte Piet would be part of losing a ‘personal and shared history, culture and identity that helps define the personal as well as the national.’ (ibid)

This last aspect is enhanced by a current social wave in Dutch society whereby indigenous Dutch feel threatened by a changing society, with increasing numbers of people from different countries and backgrounds, which they feel may threaten their own values and norms. This has led to a fear of change and a desire to hold on to local customs and traditions. Yet, ‘…tradition always incorporates power, whether … constructed in a deliberate way or not. Kings, emperors, priests and others have long invented traditions to suit themselves and to legitimate their rule.’ (Anthony Giddens, Reith lectures, 1999) So the Dutch continue to officially sanction a tradition, which keeps their past and traditions intact rather than confronting the reality of the multicultural society in which they live. Indeed for some, such as Rita Verdonk when she was minister of Justice, even admitting that Holland is a multicultural society is taboo. (translated from TV programme Nova, April 2006)

Festinger explains Dutch denial in psychological terms but according to Blakely, the Dutch have a religious and cultural history that could provide an alternative explanation for their attitude. He argues that the Dutch have deep Calvinistic roots that could explain prejudice towards the ‘Other’. He argues that bias can easily be seen as colour bias whereas it may have its basis in religious affiliation:

‘The Calvinist concept of the foreigner and sojourner, used to describe all those not in the faith, can easily be taken personally by the outsider. He may not be aware of the deeply rooted tradition in this aristocratic, bourgeois democracy which in the formative period of the country led individual Dutchmen to perceive themselves as superior to others, even other Dutchmen from a different polder or city…an outsider then, of whatever ilk, must find a way “inside” the established institutions in the society before full acceptance can be possible.’ (1993, p. 283-284)

It is clear that there are different and complex explanations for why the Dutch are deeply invested in forgetting some aspects of their past and denying the current reality of their multicultural society. It is beyond the scope of this project to explore this issue at further length, but I believe it is an important key to opening up the possibility of change. For, as Anthony Giddens (Reith lectures, 1999) points out, ‘although traditions are important to people, they can also change.’

6 Change is possible

The possibility of change is something I discovered in discussing the issue of Zwarte Piet with my friends. I have talked to a large number of friends and acquaintances in Holland about the issues discussed above and while some were resistant and even hostile, others have been open to different points-of-view and have started to think differently. I will illustrate the many conversations I had, through the example of one particular close friend, Winnie. She was born and raised in Holland, and her ideas are typical of many of the people I spoke to and could be take to represent those of the ‘average’ Dutch person.

The idea of Zwarte Piet being something negative was at first too much to grasp for Winnie. It involved the idea of such a huge personal loss that she used any means possible to avoid it. Her first reaction when I talked about stereotyping was ‘huh I don’t understand what is wrong with it; people don’t seem to mind so why make a fuss?’ But I persisted and whenever Winnie and I met up for coffee she would give a new reason to convince me I was wrong. The first argument was ‘but I never saw it like that’ and ‘my parents did not raise me telling me Piets represented Black people.’ This can be construed as denial of racism. According to Brown and Tavares (2004, p.98) ‘what we get is denial of the experience of the peoples we are trying to avoid being prejudice against, which gives birth to a new prejudice of its own.’ When I addressed her on the blackface issue and the historical context of this she would reply ‘but it’s soot!’ or ‘isn’t he based on a Moor?’ thus avoiding new information and creating a new reality which was more compatible with her views. Festinger (1957, p.135) desribes this as a common result of the experience of dissonance. Another attempt to convince me, a favourite one, was ‘but we do it for the children and they don’t see it this way!’ I would reply that in fact they do.

Now I understand that she was trying to deal with the dissonance I had created. She was constantly adding new cognitive elements to decrease the dissonance I caused by clashing two consonances, which Festinger (1957, p. 19) so carefully explains.
In the end, Winnie was able to come to terms with this dissonance by herself. She told me, the last time I saw her, when making the photographs for my project in which she modelled as Zwarte Piet, that she now understood what I was trying to explain and said: “Rube, you are right you know…not too long ago I had a discussion at home about your project and I raised some of your points. In the end I actually found myself defending your motives to my parents.”

This example shows how delicate this issue is to the Dutch and how difficult it is to change their views. It is only because I have a close personal relationship with Winnie that she was willing to listen to me at all and only because we met regularly and talked at length that she came to share my point of view. However this experience has shown me that in the end dialogue, reasoning and time can produce results.

7. Ruby and Piet

ruby savage @ 3 yrs old. amsterdam 1987 photo aryan kaganof

I hold different views to most of the people I grew up with in Holland and working on this project has made me start to question why this is. It was during my teens that I started to have doubts about the figure of Zwarte Piet. I became interested in African American history and learnt about racial stereotypes such as the minstrels. I made the link to Zwarte Piet directly and began to feel uncomfortable about the celebration. There was a clash between my deep personal attachment to the tradition and my new awareness. For a while I tried to deny the implications of this but at a certain point I gained so much information I could not deny my true feelings any longer and I decided to stop celebrating Sinterklaas. This was a painful decision for both me and my family.

One reason I became involved could be because I am a mix of English and Surinamese. Even though I have never been mistaken for a Zwarte Piet, I am close enough to my black side to understand the pain that it may cause to be laughed at or mocked. This means that I have a personal investment in this issue. My English, white mother raised me and I was generally surrounded by white, middle class people. However my brown skin always made me aware of identity. Even though throughout my childhood I never experienced direct racism I have always been aware of it. Another reason could be that I grew up without my father around and this absence of my black parent perhaps made me even more aware of my identity. Suki Ali who is also of mixed race describes her own childhood in her book Mixed-Race, Post-race (2003, p. 11) as follows: ‘without a strong “cultural input” from my father … my siblings and I had all questioned cultural absences and ethnic “belonging” throughout our lives.’ These are perhaps some of the reasons I have became involved in this subject and why it means so much to me. I feel that my position as both insider and outsider, black and white, gives me an advantage in examining the issue. It also means that I am able not only to explore but also to try and instigate change in Dutch society and that is what I hope to do through my photos.

8. Different approaches

In my first attempt at grasping this issue I wanted to deal with it as theoretically as possible in order to find academic legitimacy for my anger and make my criticism as strong as possible. My sole purpose, coming from my anger and frustration, was to set out to abolish Zwarte Piet. With my photographs I wanted to show the world what was happening in the Netherlands and how horrific it was. In other words, I wanted to change the world with my photographs. So I started off with an ethnographic study of the festival during the winter of 2007. During this period I visited Amsterdam three times and photographed the carnival parade and street scenes with Zwarte Piet and Sinterklaas. I also spoke to many different people: the organizers of the Carnival, the actor playing Sinterklaas, volunteer Piets, shop-owners and even the Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet rental service. I tried to document the entire celebration in the most wide-ranging way in order to expose its racist elements. However, after collecting a great deal of information I realised that although I had gathered a great deal of evidence, it failed to make a point. My images simply seemed like the millions of other photos of the festivities which one can find through Google. Moreover I felt that my images just reinforced the stereotype of Zwarte Piet. Image 8.1 shows an example of this.

Frustrated by this realisation and fuming with fresh anger coming back from the Dutch festive season, I had to leave the project for a bit to return to it in a different way. I began to think of ways which might open up discussion. I had by now experienced quite a few disputes that mostly ended up in complete denial and closed doors. I realised that a head-on attack was not going to work. I needed to be as open as I could. Addressing the issues around Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet needed to come in a package which was familiar enough to engage people but unsettling enough to make them think. Dutch photographer and writer Hans Aarsman states in a Dutch bi-monthly arts paper (translated from HTV, July/August 2008, p.3) that he realised that the most tactical way to impose one’s emotionally loaded thoughts is to do this ‘light and bearable’. He believes that if everyone could bring his or her own tragedy with a twist into a different light, we would live in a different world. I believe this typical Dutch soberness has turned out to be my approach to the photographs. This might not be a conventional way of approaching a ‘heavy’ subject as Zwarte Piet but I believe this approach will help the project to speak to Dutch people.

I also looked at former work on Zwarte Piet, notably Anna Fox and Mieke Bal’s Zwarte Piet (1999). In this book Fox presents portraits of desolate Zwarte Piet figures (see image 8.2) and Bal provides an essay on Zwarte Piet and Fox’s portraits. The photos are striking but in my view they do not invite the viewer to challenge the topic. Fox’s photos detach the image from any sort of recognizable space or point of referral. As Bal states, the character is placed on a theatrical stage, a fantasy. In other words this means that the images are so unconnected to the reality of the festivities or any personal experience that I feel the most important point is missed, which is that this figure is part of a real celebration that is still happening to this day i.e. not a fantasy at all.

This realisation made me decide to disposition Zwarte Piet in a different way, still taking him out of his normal context but bringing the figure closer to reality. I decided to put Zwarte Piet into my own life, into my own personal space, confronting the viewer and myself with the personal relationship between Zwarte Piet and me. I decided in other words to juxtapose a fictional stereotype of a blackface with a real ‘black’ face, my own.

9. The photographs

My main aim with the second approach to my photography was to create images that would force people to ask questions. I wanted to create images that would make viewers experience in a visual way the same kind of cognitive dissonance that I experienced in relation to Zwarte Piet. I wanted though to avoid pointing fingers or forcing my point of view on the spectator, as this would not achieve my purpose. I made some test images with a classmate to see what effect it would have if I put myself into a picture with a blacked-up person engaged in everyday activities. Making these test images helped map out a blue print for my entire approach to the subject. I realised that the project needed someone for the viewer to identify with so I included my ordinary self in the picture. Viewing the result of myself posing in front of the camera with Zwarte Piet was very confrontational. I felt uncomfortable looking at the images, yet it also felt liberating. It turned out to be a way of ‘confronting my demons’. In the words of Pierre Bourdieu interviewed by Loïc Wacquant for their book An Invitation To Reflexive Sociology (1992, p.211), ‘I effected a sort of self-therapy which, I hope … may be of use to others.’

When I look at the images I made in Amsterdam I feel that I have come close to my goal. I have been able to create images that are inviting enough to look at but which also displace Zwarte Piet in such a way that makes the stereotype visible. I feel I have made photographs which will make people ask questions without forcing answers on them; the contradictory elements in the images remain open to multiple interpretation. In a way they hold what Freud explains in his book The Uncanny (1941) they portray a familiar, intimate world but they are also deeply disturbing to me yet they also show something which I feel is strange out of place and upsetting. According to Freud’s definition, the ‘uncanny’ combines two sets of meanings that are contradictory to each other; homely/familiar and secretive/mysterious. To me this binary is what my images hopefully evoke as well. This ambiguity in the concept of the uncanny, I hope, will help start a dialogue and raise questions as a result of the clashing interpretations.

In many photos I am portrayed smiling, or at least looking comfortable, with a blacked up Zwarte Piet face close to my own brown one. This mirror effect not only questions my personal motives towards Zwarte Piet but also raises the question of what happens when these two shades meet. Can we tolerate this? Is it so ridiculous that it becomes hilarious? Can we as a society define this as acceptable? These are some examples of the many question imposed by my photos.

Zwarte Piet is usually related to the winter season because this is when he appears and wears a colourful ‘costume’ reminiscent of a 16th century page outfit. In one of my pictures, Zwarte Piet is placed on a warm summer’s day, dressed in contemporary fashion (see image 8.3). I portray Piet like this to underline the similarities to racial imagery like the coon or golliwog by taking away the usual setting and placing him in a different season. What we are left with are the basic blackface symbols: black painted face, red lips, Afro wig and a set of golden earrings. The power evoked by these symbols was made apparent when, while taking some of the photographs, children recognised a Zwarte Piet and started shouting his name to get his attention. Indeed, even though we took some of the photos in public, no-one was surprised to see a blacked-up face as they all recognised Zwarte Piet immediately. A car full of Surinamese commented: “Isn’t it a little bit too early for this?” So even taking Zwarte Piet out of context, which amplified the stereotypical blackface, did not make the figures in my photos any less than a ‘Zwarte Piet’ to the Dutch people who saw us. Yet all that I portray in the photograph is an authentic depiction of a blackface.

My photos fall into the genre of the family snapshot. The smile on my face could imply that I am positive about Zwarte Piet, that there is no problem. To me the emotions in the snaps are a pose. I am performing in front of the camera. Like Val Williams explains in Who’s Looking at the Family? (1994):

“Snapshot photography, seemingly so open and so casual, operates by its own clearly delineated rules, and families across the Western world used it to create a favourable reflection of domestic life. The stern gaze of the Victorians was replaced by an infallible smile. Snapshots mirrored family life as it ought to be, or as what we would wish it to be. Carefully coded, they acted as a talisman against the real.” (1994, p.13)

Imaging myself in this way was a part of a process of healing my past by recreating a new, imaginary real. Taking these pictures with my closest friends gave me a chance to perform in front of the camera and re-create my history. As my friends put on their ‘mask’ of Zwarte Piet, I put on my ‘mask’ to create joyous memories like children dressing up posing in front of the camera. But by masking my friends as Zwarte Piet and placing them in my personal space, I was also acting out everyday life and bringing Zwarte Piet into my world. By choosing to recreate the family photo album with pictures depicting everyday casualness and intimate special moments, my photos invite the viewer into my personal space, which only serves to underline the incongruity of the blackface and highlight the uncanny aspects of something which is at the same time so familiar yet so awkward.

To support the idea of recreating my family photo album I chose to shoot the entire project on a 35mm ‘point and shoot’ camera. I used auto-focus, the self-timer and a flash to create similar aesthetics to the pictures taken of me as a child. I also had the photographs printed with an ‘old fashioned’ white boarder as to accentuate the look. I chose not to enlarge the photographs but present them in the photo album format. This choice not only suits the idea aesthetically it also forces the viewer to look closely at the images. It is only in the second look that one realises what exactly is going on in the picture.

After keeping the pictures in my bag and showing them around to my friends I decided to place them into a book that looks like a family photo album. I will keep them there to remind me of a moment in time, a journey that just like all my other albums hopefully becomes a ‘talisman against the real’.

10. Conclusion

In this study I have traced my journey towards a greater understanding of the historical origins of Zwarte Piet and why this stereotypical image is so deeply rooted in Dutch society. I have become more aware of the damage that a racist figure like this can cause and I have tried to understand why Dutch society is so unwilling to recognise that there is a problem and change this tradition. At the same time I have also reflected on why I am so personally involved in this issue and I have found a way of dealing with the anger I feel.

This journey has led me to produce personal and thought-provoking photos which I hope will contribute to an open discussion in the Netherlands about Zwarte Piet and the implications of the colonial past for contemporary Dutch society. I realise that this will not be easy as there are people who are willing to fight hard to defend their traditions as the violent reactions mentioned in my introduction show.

Head-on confrontation does not seem to be the most effective way to enable change and I have chosen a more ‘Dutch’ approach, where serious messages tend to be packaged in an ironic or light-hearted exterior. I am curious to see what the effect of the photos will be in my native country. The reality shown in the photos may simply be denied. But if Festinger’s theory of cognitive dissonance can be used as a predictive device, as he maintains (1957, p. 279), bring out the water hose, cause fire will be blazing!

Bibliography

AARSMAN, H. (2008) Licht en Draaglijk, HTV de Ijsberg, July-August, p. 3.

ALI, S. (2003) Mixed-Race, Post-Race Gender, New ethnicities and Cultural Practices. Oxford and New York: Berg.

BARTHES, R. (1972) Mythologies. New York: Hill and Wang.

BAUMANN, G. (1999) The Multicultural Riddle: Rethinking National, Ethnic and Religious Identities. London: Routledge.

BLAKELY, A. (1993) Blacks In The Dutch World: The evolution of racial imagery in a modern society. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
BOURDIEU, P. and WAQUANT, L. (1992) An Invitation to Reflexive Sociology. Cambridge: Polity Press.

BROWN, J. and TAVARES, I (2004) Black Pete: Analyzing a Racialized Tradition Through the History of Western Creations of Stereotypes of Black Peoples.

CLARKE, G. (1997) The Photograph, Oxford: University Press.

CLIFFORD, J. (2004) Traditional Futures.
DU BOIS, W.E.B. (1903) The Souls of Black Folk. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press.

FANON, F. (1967) Black Skin, White Masks. New York: Grove Press.
FESTINGER, L. (1957) A Theory Of Cognitive Dissonance. London: Tavistock Publications.
FOX, A. (1999) Zwarte Piet. London: Autograph ABP.
FREUD, S. (1941) The Uncanny. London: Penguin Group.
GEELEN, J.P. (2007) Pieten Pop, De Volkskrant, 26 November, p.9.

GIDDENS, A. (1999) Reith lectures: Tradition.

GILROY, P. (1987) There Ain’t No Black in the Union Jack: the cultural politics of race and nation. London: Routhledge.

GILROY, P. (1993) The Black Atlantic: modernity and double consciousness, London: Verso.

GOFFMAN, E. (1959) The Presentation Of Self In Everyday Life. London: Penguin Groups.
GRAAF, P. (2008) Performance in Van Abbe lokt felle reacties uit, De Volkskrant, 29 August.

GRAAF, P. (2008) Protestmars Zwart Piet afgelast na bedreiging, De Volkskrant, 30 August.

HARRIS, M.D. (2003) Coloured Pictures: Race & Visual Representation. Chapel Hill and London: University of North Carolina Press.
KAGI, R. (2006) De Eerste Neger. Amsterdam: Mets en Schilt.
NEDERVEEN PIETERSE, J. (1990) Wit Over Zwart: Beelden van Afrika en zwarten in de westerse populaire cultuur. Amsterdam: Koninklijk Instituut voor de Tropen.
NOVA (2006) TV programme, 3 April.
NRC Handelsblad, (2008) Protest tegen Zwarte Piet gaat niet door, NRC, 29 August p.1.

PICKERING, M. (2001) Stereotyping: the politics of representation. New York: Palgrave.

SKEGGS, B. (2004) Class self and culture. London: Routhledge.

STOFFELEN, A. (2008) Die Zwarte is helemaal geen bediende!, De Volkskrant, 24 July, p. 9.

TAGG, J. (1988) The Burden of Representation: Essays on Photographies and Histories, Basingstoke: The Macmillan Press.

TELEGRAAF, (2006) Regenboogpieten, 29 November.

VERDONK, R. (2008) .

WILLIAMS, V. (1994) Who’s Looking at the Family? Stiff Boards Publisher: Barbican Art Gallery: London.

Winnie, Personal Conversations, 2007-2008.

ZACK, N. (1993) Race & Mixed Race. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.

Websites:

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/Brix?pageID=100

http://www.annafox.co.uk/index2.html

www.sintinamsterdam.nl

http://www.globalafrikancongress.com/

http://www.amsterdampartners.nl/news/archive/ampro0410-nl.htm

www.iamsterdam.nl

www.elsevier.nl (http://www.elsevier.nl/web/10111806/Artikel/Biografie-Jan-Peter-Balkenende.htm)

Black Pete

Amsterdam Holland, summer 2008. “Here I am enjoying a sunny summers day along the river Amstel. With me is Black Pete. I’m in the photo with this figure because I am trying to deal with the many questions I have around the tolerance of such an image in Dutch society”. The photographs question the mythology surrounding Black Pete. In the annual Dutch festival, Saint Nicholas’s entourage of black-face helpers retain their popularity. The perpetuation of this festival and its implications remain undiscussed in Holland as its popularity prevails

Another Giant Step For South African Cinema
Kush Khoza, 08-Mar-2006 19:46

the international climate for South African cinema has never been better. Or so it would seem from the spate of attention that our feature films have been garnering. The good news is that documentaries too are sharing in the limelight. The prestigious Milan Festival of African, Asian & Latin American Cinema has selected the South African production GIANT STEPS (2005, 52min, DV) for participation in its official documentary competition.

lefifi tladi (photo aryan kaganof)

GIANT STEPS is an Afrocentric approach to Blackness Now! Dashiki poet Lefifi Tladi guides the audience on a journey of consciousness, analysing and interpreting the meaning of independence as opposed to freedom. He is accompanied on this radical exploration by the cream of South African poets, musicians, dancers and visual artists, including Zim Ngqawana, Don Laka, Kgafela oa Magogodi, Lesego Rampolokeng, Afurakan, Mac Manaka, Thabo Mashishi, Moshe Maboe, Moeketsi Koena and Motlhabane Mashiangwako.

GIANT STEPS is a moving tribute to its co-director, Bra’ Geoff Mphakati, who passed away tragically during the filming of this, his first documentary. Bra’ Geoff Mphakati was a tireless cultural worker who shepherded a generation of musicians, fine artists and writers from his home in Mamelodi. The likes of Don Laka and Vusi Mahlasela cut their jazz teeth at his Pretoria Jazz Appreciation society meetings.

Lefifi Tladi was mentored by Bra’ Geoff after he was kicked out of school for being a “stupid”. Lefifi, inspired by The Last Poets, formed Dashiki, a cultural ensemble that became closely allied to Steve Biko and the Black Consciousness Movement. In 1976 Lefifi went into exile.

bra’ geoff mphakati (photo ruby savage)

GIANT STEPS is a documentary that sees Bra’ Geoff and Lefifi re-united, the two of them taking a generation of younger poets, musicians and artists on a journey of consciousness that is an afrocentric approach to blackness now. Taking poart in this exploration are the likes of Kgafela oa Magogodi, Lesego Rampolokeng, Mac Manaka, Zim Ngqawana and Afurakan. Bra’ Geoff passed away unexpectedly on the fourth day of shooting Giant Steps, which is his first documentary as director. The film was completed by co-director Aryan Kaganof, whose 2002 documentary WESTERN 4.33, won the first prize at the Milan festival. GIANT STEPS is produced by Michelle Wheatley and Ziyanda Ngcaba for Reflex Motion Pictures and was broadcast twice by the SABC.

this article first published by kush