Art for Man's Sake: A Tribute to Ousmane Sembène

Abstract

Born: January 1, 1923, Ziguenchor, Casamance, Senegal Died: June 9, 2007, Dakar, Senegal Ousmane Sembene was known among film critics as father of cinema and, among filmmakers, as l'AIne des anciens (the oldest of the elders). He wrote ten books of fiction (novels and short stories) and one essay over a period of forty years (1956-1996) and, between 1962, the year he came to filmmaking, and 2004-forty-two years-he directed eighteen films: four shorts, ten features, and four documentaries. After the release of Xala, his fourth feature, in 1974, Sembene told the Tunisian film critic Tahar Cheria: this part of the world (Africa), there is one thing we must recognize: filmmakers carry a mission and, more generally, the artist is the one who prepares a revolution, the one who incites it. I would go further. Even in the middle of a revolution, the true artist is the one who prepares the next revolution, he incites revolt: that is his necessary role, his glory, and also his limit. Through his work of analysis, clarification, unmasking and denunciation, the artist arouses in his people's consciousness the clear conviction that revolution is necessary and possible [The artist has a historic and social responsibility, and art should be a liberating activity].1 Almost two decades later, after the release of Guelwaar (1993), the American film critic Michael Atkinson, in his examination of Sembene's film production, echoed Sembene's profession of faith: Quite possibly the only filmmaker left in the world who cannot be bought and sold, Sembene represents the dying heritage of political films still possessed of a virginal faith in social change, a faith not in films for profit's sake or even film's sake, but for man's sake.2 Ousmane Sembene was born in Casamance (southern Senegal) in 1923 and died at his Dakar residence, Galle Ceddo (House of the Rebel), on June 9, 2007, at the age of 84. He died at 9:00 PM, the exact time I was boarding a South Airways flight at New York's JFK airport to go see him. I had last seen an already frail Sembene on November 10, 2006, and those of us who belonged to a very narrow circle of friends knew his days were numbered. But, his illness remained a well-kept secret until February 2007 when, for the first time since 1969, he missed the Ouagadougou Panafrican Film Festival, which he cofounded. For four decades, he was known as the occupant of Room 1 at the Hotel Independence, the site of the festival. I last spoke with Sembene a week before he died and, as he always did when I came to Senegal, he gave me his shopping list on the phone. We both looked forward to seeing each other on June 10. He was expecting me that morning, also expecting to enjoy those bags of vanilla nut coffee and boxes of bath salt I carried for him in my suitcase. There was indeed a long love story between Ousmane Sembene and tobacco, coffee, and water! When I landed in Dakar that morning, seven hours after boarding the South flight, I learned Tonton Sembene was gone, gone seven hours earlier. In the eighteen years I had known Ousmane Sembene, this was our first missed rendezvous. Over those eighteen years, his work had become for me more than a scholarly interest-it was a political imperative. I became his liaison with American universities and other cultural institutions, his biographer and, most importantly, his jarbaat (nephew) and friend. With him, I roamed the world: Africa, Europe, and the United States. My first encounter with Ousmane Sembene dates back to my high school years in the 1970s (1972, precisely), when I first read his third novel and masterpiece, God's Bits of Wood. This book was my first exposure to literature, after years of alienation caused by a school curriculum that included only French classics. The effect on my self-image, my worldview, and my political consciousness as a francophone African was instantaneous. …