Barry Jenkins

Barry Jenkins’ relationship with San Francisco is like that of a former lover. He speaks of it warmly, critically, nostalgically, and gives us the sense that the city once promised him something it couldn’t quite deliver. Before there was the Academy Award winning Moonlight, filmmaker Barry Jenkins made Medicine for Melancholy, an elegy both to love and to San Francisco, the city where he developed his skill as a filmmaker. Jenkins paints us a picture of him quitting his dream job and following a girlfriend to San Francisco, claiming that “love is like the ultimate thing we pursue,” though the move ultimately resulted in the creation of Medicine for Melancholy. He repeatedly returns to the idea that San Francisco is both genuinely inspiring and deeply exclusionary, calling it “a physically beautiful piece of rock” that remains breathtaking even as it grows less diverse. What emerges is not simply a conversation about Black identity in the city, but about the instability of identity altogether. 

TRANSCRIPT:

Tania Ketenjian:
A wild party has ended, and a young African American couple step out into the bright California sunlight after a one-night stand they had just a few hours earlier. Names have not been exchanged, and there's a distinct resistance on the part of the young woman, Jo, to connect with her lover, Micah. However, she leaves her wallet behind in a cab. He locates where she lives, and a connection is deepened. This is the opening to Barry Jenkins' debut feature-length film, Medicine for Melancholy, which looks at the complex issues of race and class that exist in San Francisco, a city that for many proclaims a sense of liberalism and openness. Through a day and night we spend with Joe and Micah, Jenkins explores racial identity, class difference, and broken hearts. He also explores the city itself with its gorgeous hills, its majestic views, its unique quality.

San Francisco is still reeling from an identity it established for itself in the '60s and '70s as a bohemian mecca. But the fact is that it's the city with the smallest proportional Black population of any major city in America. It's one of the most expensive cities in America to buy a home, and its homeowners are dominated by the middle and upper class. That said, it's still a very special place. Some people who take a moment to think of these circumstances end up feeling confused, just as filmmaker Barry Jenkins does. In Medicine for Melancholy, we explore these conflicts through the lens of Micah and Joe, two young Black people trying to understand their geographic and emotional space. My name is Tania Katenjian. This is Sight Unseen, a weekly program that speaks with artists of all different mediums to uncover the unseen aspects of their work. And exploring the ways in which they see the world. I spoke with Barry Jenkins last week, and we spoke about how he feels about San Francisco, how he made this film, and how he understands his own identity. Please stay tuned.


Barry Jenkins:
I moved here for a relationship, basically. One of my best friends lives here, and so I was visiting him quite often for about 3 or 4 years, and then I decided to move here for a woman. And it was great. It was beautiful. I think it's a city where if you're in love with someone and you view the city through that prism, it's like, "Oh, it's amazing." It's like these beautiful vistas and it's just like a very nice place. It's walkable. But then we broke up and so I really started to have to, you know, instead of engaging the city through the prism of this relationship, I was engaging the city one-on-one. And I began to notice all these things that are sort of a part of San Francisco but aren't a part of the perception that's projected. I wouldn't even call it a love-hate relationship. I think it's just a very complex union between me and the city.


Tania Ketenjian:
Did you expect that at all? I mean, so you came for love. What do you think about moving for love? I mean, how do you think that— I mean, it ultimately didn't work out, but what do you think about that? My husband moved for love, and I've always kind of explored that. But what do you think about it?


Barry Jenkins:
You know, I think on some level, love is like the ultimate thing we pursue. I think even if you pursue a profession, it's because you love that profession. You know, if you pursue any sort of vocation, it's generally, hopefully, because you love it. So I think I would move again for love if the situation arose. I'll go back to the head of your question, which was, what do I think of San Francisco? I think when I first moved here, I had a very different perception of the city. Than what I actually found when I arrived here. You know, I kind of saw it as this great, beautiful, bohemian, you know, melting pot. And as, you know, once I arrived here, I realized it was not. You know, that's not the case. That's not San Francisco. That's this version of San Francisco that's been changing for the last, you know, 15, 20 years. And so I had to figure out a way to fall in love with that, you know. And then when I did, it was like, well, wait, you know, what am I in love with? You know, how was, how is this a reflection of me, you know, and what's important to me and my ideals? And again, just to go back, it made the union between me and the city very complex and complicated. And so I put that into a film.


Tania Ketenjian:
Just for people that can't see you, you have this very sweet and earnest look. And I wonder how that works. I mean, I wonder, you know, how that works for you, how it benefits you and how it might work against you sometimes. But that's not my question. My question is, you said you, you mentioned feeling yourself reflected in the city. So what are the ways in which you, you do feel that? And then we'll explore the ways you don't feel that, and then we'll get into the film. So how do you see yourself? What are the parts of yourself that you see here?


Barry Jenkins:
I like, I like the openness of San Francisco. I mean, you, you really can do whatever the hell you want to do in San Francisco. Any of those, a place to do it. Or no matter where you decide to do it, people are going to go, "Okay, that guy's doing that there. Totally fine. Not my thing. That's his thing." You know it's a very open-minded city. I like to think those are things that are a part of my makeup. You know, I'm a very open-minded person. I don't like limitations, and I feel like San Francisco doesn't limit what you can do, how you can culturally express yourself. The clothes, very simple things like the clothes you wear, the music you listen to you know, the art you want to participate in, you know. Those things are very open in San Francisco. Unfortunately there's a version of the city that is limiting the people who can participate in those very wonderful things. You know, those opportunities aren't the same for everyone in the city. And so I have to ask myself, you know, if I buy into this idea of this wonderful place, this physically beautiful city where you can be open-minded and you can express yourself however you want to, but at the same time it's a city that is economically restricting those opportunities from a certain segment of the population, What does that say about me, that I love that place, or that I'm willing to participate you know, in that bargain? So, yeah, that's where I'm at.


Tania Ketenjian:
And that's very much what the film shows, 'cause it does show there's that freedom. I mean, these kids are on bikes, and I mean, kids, they're not necessarily kids, but they're younger people. So there's a great sense of freedom being on a bike, and of course the city is extremely beautiful. But um, they come into lots of different conflicts between each other. So how would you shape those? How would you describe those?


Barry Jenkins:
Well, for me, I think the movie— there's this undertone of class. I think class, dollars and cents are really what drives you know, the political landscape here. I think it even drives the cultural landscape here in San Francisco. So I think there's those two differences between the two characters. I think also the character of Micah, the male lead, he's bringing all these other things into the scenario. He's struggling with his identity, he's coming off, you know, this uh broken heart, you know, this bitterness that he feels is rooted in, you know, these things about ethnicity and race. And so I think, you know, between the two characters we're bringing all these issues about identity, about San Francisco, kind of to a head, you know, in this film about two strangers. So it's weird, I think as they negotiate one another, you know, as they kind of fill each other out and sort of, you know, they kind of exchange worldviews and their personalities mix. I think we also get a perception of what I feel like, you know, is San Francisco's worldview, or really just trying to figure out what is San Francisco about it. I think that's the main drive of the film.


Tania Ketenjian:
Well, the class issue is a huge one, and I think, you know, it's interesting. Micah lives in a studio, a very, not emotional studio, but it's very warm, you know. He's definitely put himself in it. And Jo, her space is in the marina, which is a neighborhood that I often don't like, and it's very, very empty and cold. I'm sure that was intentional, obviously. What is that saying about class, just in that respect?


Barry Jenkins:
Well, you know, I will say, honestly, those two spaces, we did not alter them. You know, I have a friend who lives in Micah's studio, and we didn't change any of her furniture. We just moved Micah into her place. And I also have a friend who has that house in the Marina. I was house-sitting, and we put it in the movie. So we didn't alter those spaces. I think they are sort of, you know, indicative. It might be a bit cliché to say, okay, the guy who lives in the rough neighborhood in the small place, his place has all this character, and this person who lives in this really big roomy place in this very nice sort of toney part of the city, it's very empty and vapid. But that was just the truth of the two spaces. And I really felt like we needed to be economical about the things we communicated in the film. And so I felt like the physical spaces they lived in should say something about their characters, and it should sort of tip our hats at, you know, some of the things they're going to talk about. What's important to Micah? What's important to the character of Jo? And so I think it's great. It's a nice entry point for some of those discussions that come up later in the film. I feel like right away when you see the difference between their two physical spaces, you get it. Oh, okay. There's a difference. That's something that's interesting. That's something they can talk about. That's something where they're not the same person. They're not thinking the same way. So when they begin to discuss them, you know, it's like you have a root in it, you know, just from seeing the physical spaces and the way we shoot them.


Tania Ketenjian:
Well, the main thing about, you know, discussing things in the same way is rooted in self-identity and how, you know, how Micah identifies himself, what is his primary identity, which is a Black man, which isn't even a man, but a Black man. And I can imagine that he's gone through a journey to get to that point and have the strength to say that, or the clarity rather, to say that. But I don't— you never really hear Jo. She's still lost in that respect, or lost is maybe a judgment call. She just doesn't necessarily engage in that conversation.


Barry Jenkins:
Well, I feel like at the point that we meet them in the film, Jo feels like she's beyond that discussion. It's not something she feels like she has to have when we come into her life at this point in the story. I feel like the movie really is gonna begin the morning after. I feel like neither one of the characters changes over the course of the 24 hours of the film. I feel like when they wake up the next morning after our movie ends, the conversations, you know, the ideas they've exchanged with the other person will then begin to affect them. I feel like there's something very valid about what Micah is saying that Jo needs to hear, and I feel like there's something valid about what Jo is saying that Micah needs to hear. You, I think you did make a judgment call by saying that Jo was sort of lost, but I think she's lost for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with the things that Micah is projecting onto her. I think she's lost because she's in a relationship with a person who physically is not there. She's living in a space that physically is not hers, you know. I think those things— she's not rooted, you know. So I think in that way she's lost, and, you know, and maybe culturally she's lost a little bit too, you know. But I think even before those things, she's lost just in general. I think that's why she opens herself up to the encounter that begins the film.


Tania Ketenjian:
It was a judgment call, and it's interesting because there are all these other issues that come up. It's about, you know, your relationship and being rooted or lack of roots and class. I mean, it is not— yes, I know the film is about race. Well, okay, I shouldn't say the film is about race. Yes, I know that—


Barry Jenkins:
The character Micah is about race, that's what I like to say.


Tania Ketenjian:
Yeah, the character Micah is about race. Yeah, that's true. But, you know, it's very different than, say, films that really want to talk about race in America or race in San Francisco. So obviously that was a conscious choice.


Barry Jenkins:
It was a conscious choice. I mean, the film to me, the film I set out to make was a film that would talk about how all these things are related, you know. I think the reason why the city of San Francisco was so important to the film is because I feel like the dementia the character Micah is going through is rooted in his experience living in San Francisco, physically living through the displacement of African Americans in the city. So of course he's attuned to those issues, you know, they're all related. I feel like, you know, the issue of class, you know, because I feel like the reason why African Americans have been driven out of the city has a lot more to do with class than it has to do with ethnicity, you know. I think the redevelopment, you know, sort of policy, that was more or less a culturally, ethnically driven policy, you know. It was heinous, you know. But I think gentrification is just dollars and cents. And I think no matter who you are, if you don't make a certain amount of money, you're being displaced. African American, Caucasian, Asian American. Doesn't matter. So I think all those things are related, and it was really important to sort of make a film that just grafted each issue onto the other, you know, so you could at the end of the film kind of look at it as a circle. It's like, whoa, where'd the documentary scene come from? Where they're talking about housing rights, why does that work? And then you go, you know, this guy Micah's been talking about these things for the whole film. He has this poster on his wall. Oh man, those things are completely related, you know.


Tania Ketenjian:
Yeah, that's true. And I mean, I'm kind of thinking about as you were starting this film and raising the money for it and, and… No money raised? No money raised. Really?


Barry Jenkins:
Really. Yeah, you know, I wrote the screenplay, you know, so the film would be really inexpensive, and I gave it to a friend of mine who I went to film school with. You know, I'd worked in LA, and I knew these very, you know, quasi-powerful people. You know, I worked for Oprah Winfrey for 2 years, and I was like, hey, I'm trying to make a movie, you know, could you help me out? You know, I don't know what was going on. You know, people's lives are complicated, but I couldn't get any help. So I purposely set out to make the movie makeable with a very small amount of funds. And I gave it to my buddy Justin Barber, who had just produced an independent feature film. He's like, yeah, we can totally do this. So it was like, I wrote the screenplay, gave it to him, and 3 months later we were shooting the film with whatever little money Justin could grab. And we did it really quick. We shot the film in 15 days, edited the movie in a month, and then it premiered at South by Southwest 2 months later. So it was all really fast. If we had waited to raise funds, I would still be raising funds. I wouldn't be talking to you right now.


Tania Ketenjian:
It's a pretty extraordinary story. It's so rare.


Barry Jenkins:
Yeah, that's what I've been told. That's what I've been told. I mean, I really just called the 4 or 5 friends who I knew would just drop their lives and come out and help make the film. And that's what we did.


Tania Ketenjian:
So why did you leave Harpo? I mean, that seems like it would be a dream job.


Barry Jenkins:
You know, it was tough. That's a very complicated question. I actually woke up this morning thinking about that. It was, it was a very good job. It's the most money I've ever made, you know, in a calendar year. I was working for that company. I had health insurance and I'd go to the dentist and I was like, whoa, man, I'm going to the dentist. This is awesome. And they're paying for it. But it wasn't fulfilling, you know. I was working for Harpo for 2 years. Didn't write a single screenplay in that 2-year span. So I got to the point where I really got up the nerves to resign. I was like, "Hey, I'm leaving." I gave my car to charity because I was sick of driving in LA. I gave all my furniture to friends and I packed 2 suitcases and I just took trains around the country. I went from LA to San Francisco, Chicago, New York, DC, went back to Florida, that's where I'm born and raised, went back to Chicago, then went to Colorado, and then in the course of that trip I met a woman here in San Francisco, so I moved back. Moved back for her. And when I moved back here, I was at like, I had nothing. There was nothing going on. I had no momentum. But I think I needed to sort of just strip all those things away. I needed to remove Harpo Films from my life to sort of get to a point where I could get hungry enough to actually decide, you know, it's time to make a film. So it was a very, it's probably the most important decision I've made, maybe in my life, I don't know. It was a big, big thing to walk away from that.


Tania Ketenjian:
What did your parents think of you doing that?


Barry Jenkins:
I have a very complicated background. I wouldn't really say I have parents, so to speak. But my older sister is kind of who I consider my mother, more or less. She was fine. She was like, yeah, do what you have to do. I cashed out my 401(k), which she was not happy about. But that was the only way I could afford to take the trip.


Tania Ketenjian:
And that trip led to this movie that's just done so well.


Barry Jenkins:
It did. The trip definitely led to this movie. You know, it was a series of decisions. You know, first, when I took the trip, I didn't think I would end up in San Francisco. I just had a very good friend who lived here, so it was the first place I came. I randomly met this woman who I fell in love with. And when the trip was done, I really thought I was going to move to Chicago. But I was, like, really in love with this girl, so I moved back to San Francisco. And then when that was done, you know, I guess I moved in with San Francisco. Decided to make a movie about it.


Tania Ketenjian:
How would you describe your own journey about your own personal identity in and around your race? I mean, when did it start and what does it look like? What are the main— not the hurdles necessarily, but those turning points


Barry Jenkins:
It's funny, no one's ever asked this question, so this will be an extremely honest answer. I think I've actually gone in the reverse of the characters in this film. I was born and raised in Liberty City, which is the inner city of Miami, so basically like the Hunters Point of Miami. I didn't have any friends who were not African American until I got to college. I went to predominantly black elementary school, middle school, and high school. I was a jock. I was a football player. I was pretty good. And I followed my friends to Florida State University. And even my first couple years at Florida State, you know, I was in a black fraternity and, you know, pretty much overwhelmingly my friends were African American, but my freshman year roommate was a white guy. And I think I was his first, like, black friend. And so we kind of had that thing going on. And it was cool to be in this dorm room, listen to this guy's music and just be like, oh, you know, it's not so bad. It's not so strange. And then what really happened was I got into film school. And going to film school, I realized just how small my world had been, you know, whether it was forcibly made to be small or not, but I just wasn't really seeking experiences outside of, you know, the main drive of my life. And so I started just opening myself up. And also it just happened that there were very few Black kids in my film school. And it was interesting because the friends I made in film school, I made making films together. And there's nothing that bonds people like making a movie. I mean, it is tough, tough work that's often thankless. And so not only was I making friends of different races, but I was making friends who I had an immediate, you know, an actual, you know, bond to. 

And so, you know, as I got deeper and deeper into filmmaking, you know, my life, you know, in a predominantly African-American world got much, much smaller. And the amount of time I was spending with people who weren't black became much, much greater. And the music that I was listening to that wasn't stereotypically African American, it's just all these things. It was like a complete shift in the other direction. And it was complicated, you know? It was really complex, you know? And I don't think it often happens in reverse that way. And I think I got to a point where I felt like I was more or less fighting two sides of myself, you know? It was like I wanted to maybe be like this character Jo, and sort of be post-racial, you know, and just be like, you know, people are just people, you know, because I physically worked with these people in film school who did not know me and who weren't from the same cultural background, but we bonded, you know, because we had a goal and we all worked together, you know, collectively to achieve that goal, you know, which is filmmaking. And then on the other side, I felt like, well, you know, I felt like Micah. I was like, you know, what am I doing, you know, if I'm listening, you know, to the Sea and Cake or Wilco, you know, how am I denying, you know, you know, my Black roots, you know. So it was complex, you know.


Tania Ketenjian:
Well, he brings up that point in, in the film that if you're into a certain kind of music, like there's, you know, one or two Black people in the audience. And I've noticed that myself too, if I go to shows, and, and I always think, is it hard for that guy to be into this kind of music? Like, does he feel isolated from his community, or how is he looking at his identity. Same for, I think, a white person who might be into rap music, although rap music is so much more mainstream and now has been like, you know, everyone likes rap music. You're probably very familiar with it. But for you, the other issue is the class issue. I mean, you're coming from this inner-city part of Miami.


Barry Jenkins:
Exactly, exactly. So I think all the issues in Medicine for Melancholy sort of derive from basically like the last, you know, 8 years of my life. It's interesting with with the character of Micah, you know, this issue of being the only black guy at the rock show, you know, I feel like there's a couple different ways to look at that. One of those is, I feel like, you know, he says that everything about being indie or being a hipster is tied to not being black, you know. And this guy Ernest Hardy wrote a review of the film where he talked about how, you know, the conundrum for the character of Micah is that he wants to carve out, you know, his own sort of version of what it means to be African American.

You know, he wants, you know, listening to rock music to be inclusive of a more dynamic definition, you know, of blackness. And I think that's sort of where I want to get to also, you know. So long as he's comfortable with himself listening to rock music, I feel like the African-American experience is like this canvas, you know. There's maybe 4 or 5 strokes on the canvas right now, and they're hip-hop, R&B, spoken word, you know, jazz, blues, you know, and these are all like you know, very valid things. They're authentic strokes, you know. It's not that those things are not a part of the African-American identity. He gives other things as well, you know, like riding bikes, fixing aquariums. I think by virtue of being black and performing these activities, if you truly love them and they're a part of yourself, you're bringing those things into your perception of African-American identity, and it's just as valid as these other things. And I feel like, you know, the reason why these two characters need to be in this film together is because there are things they each can take from the other that can make them both more comfortable with who they are, you know?


Tania Ketenjian:
I'm sure a lot of people have this certain idea of San Francisco, and I think— and not I'm sure, I know they do. And they have that idea of exactly what you noted, this sort of bohemian, really beautiful city of change, you know, which I think is actually still rooted in the '60s. And unfortunately, it just isn't really that anymore, but it's, I was telling this to someone, I feel like the '60s drained all of that energy and now it has to come back in somehow. When you traveled with it and people saw this San Francisco that you were showing, I mean, what were some of the questions that would come up or some of the ways in which people were surprised at what you were representing?


Barry Jenkins:
Well, I think the one thing that happens is people see this version of San Francisco in their own cities. I think that's the end point for the film. People go, oh man, that's happening right here. And so they get it. The other part is people go, wow, I had no idea that was happening in San Francisco. It's like you said, it's like the city exists in a vacuum, and it's kind of stuck in this sort of notion from the '60s, a little bit taken from the '70s. It's like that's people's version, their vision. Of San Francisco. So I think it's an eye-opener, you know, and the best thing that's happened has been there are, you know, we talk about the displacement of African Americans, and so as we've been going around the cities, we've gone to cities that, you know, people have fled to, you know, and when I say fled to, I mean like, you know, working professionals or working creatives. So in New York, you know, we screened at the IFC Center for 2 weeks and I had people go, oh, you know what, I lived in San Francisco, and they usually say from about '96 to 2002. And they were like, I just had to get out. And your film is talking about exactly why I had to leave. We had that happen in New York. We had it happen in Philly. We had it happen in LA. And so I think people, they sort of feel like either A, they didn't know that this happened, or they go, you know what? That's so the city I remember. That's why I left. I'm so glad you put it out there. So something about our portrayal of the city is working.


Tania Ketenjian:
Absolutely. And I think that that is really the crux of why people do have trouble with living here in San Francisco. San Francisco, it's a city of contradictions. It's in contradiction with itself. It doesn't necessarily want to be this way, but it is this way.


Barry Jenkins:
Exactly.


Tania Ketenjian:
I mean, I think it probably would like to be more diverse. It would like to be more inclusive, but it just isn't.


Barry Jenkins:
The sad thing about San Francisco is though, this city is beautiful without the people. There could be no one on the streets of San Francisco and it would still be beautiful. It's not like New York. The beauty of New York arises from the mix, the diversity of the people walking the street, riding the subway. San Francisco is complicated because it doesn't have that problem. It's a physically beautiful piece of rock. These hills will be gorgeous no matter what. The views will be gorgeous no matter what. And so it's one of those things that's complicated. I think no matter how homogenous the city becomes, it'll still be a destination point. It'll still be this place that you come and you walk. Up to Bernal Hill and you look out and you go, "Ah, it's breathtaking." It still will be, but it won't be nearly as diverse on the street level. It won't be nearly as interesting, you know? It won't be nearly as inspiring on a person-to-person level.


Tania Ketenjian:
So how do you— I mean, I'm kind of like, "Well, why do I live here then?" No, but I know—


Barry Jenkins:
Well, because I think I know why I live here. You know, I was in LA for 2 years and I couldn't write a single screenplay. I didn't finish a single screenplay. In 2 years. I was here 8 months and I'd already written 5. And I don't think that was because I was meeting all these amazing people. It was because there was just something about getting up in the morning and walking across 10 blocks and just going up and down, just looking out. It's like, I don't know, there's something about the physical space that just inspires possibility. It inspires the mood to create things. I think that's why people still congregate here. Hopefully it'll be a more diverse cross-section of people congregating here, but the city itself, San Francisco, the piece of rock, just gives. It gives this great energy.


Tania Ketenjian:
So just from what you inferred, you've really had a financially challenging upbringing, let's say, and possibly emotionally challenging because, you know, lack of family support. You know, what do you feel most proud of about yourself that you've done this? And also— that's my first question. And what is a reaction that you received that made you also feel like, wow, I really did what I thought? But the first one first.


Barry Jenkins:
The first one is, you know, I try not to think about those things. I mean, I think that's a very straightforward answer to that question that I try to disregard. What I do love about making this film was just the decision to, you know, after I left Harpo and I pretty much felt like I turned my back, you know, on what I perceived as being a great opportunity, I think then to really just look to only this immediate circle of friends and go, you know what, I want to do this, let's do it. And then I think deciding to do it, that was like just the most amazing thing, and it's what I'm most proud of with the film. As far as the actual like achievement, you know, in the actual makeup of the movie, is I get these messages on Facebook and MySpace, and it'll be like these about this kid, you know, somewhere in Idaho. And he'll be like, uh, you know, and I'll look on the page, it'll be like, you know, this black punk kid with a mohawk or pink hair or something. And it's usually like girls, like teenage girls, 17 or 18. I was like, oh, I heard about your film, I can't wait to see it. You know, it made me feel comfortable riding my bike, you know, listening to my music, and I'm just so glad you made this, you know, because it really makes me comfortable to be me. You know, I just, you know, just be random strangers. I get these like every day. And that is like absolutely the most amazing feeling. Because like I said, there's nothing inauthentic about being Black and doing those things, you know. I just think we don't see enough images of it to reinforce people's decision to, you know, embrace the love of, you know, maybe rock music or riding bikes or installing aquariums. And that's definitely been the best aspect of making the film.


Tania Ketenjian:
Those were the words of Barry Jenkins, filmmaker of Medicine for Melancholy. To learn more about the film, where it's showing, and when, and how it's being received, look it up on Google, of course. My name is Tanya Ketenjian, and this is Sight Unseen, shedding light on the creative world through candid conversations with the artists of our time. Next week, the curators of the SECA Awards, an award offered every 2 years to what they believe are 4 of the most promising Bay Area artists. And for those of you in the Berkeley or, you know, Bay Area or even larger Greater Bay Area, There's a fantastic concert going on this weekend at UC Berkeley's Zellerbach Hall. It's Keith Jarrett, Jack DeJohnette, and Gary Peacock. These are 3 extraordinary musicians, a fantastic trio. I can't say enough about them. Actually, when Sight Unseen first started several years back, I did a whole program on Keith Jarrett. He was a prodigy and an extraordinary pianist. His "Köln Concert," that album, was one one that I grew up with as a kid. So I highly recommend checking these guys out. They've been around for a while, so there may not be many chances to see them. So take your chances and get yourselves out to Zellerbach Hall on Saturday night. That's this Saturday, tomorrow night. Stay tuned for that and more on KALX in Berkeley.


Gil Scott-Heron:
There are a lot of comments about who's blacker than you are and who's blacker than she is and blacker than thou.