Mavens of Black culture: Maitefa Angaza, Karen Taylor, and Nikki Williams
Last weekend saw a profusion of celebrations in Harlem and Brooklyn, beginning with one for Maitefa Angaza, who joined the ancestors on August 8, at the Major Owens Community Center. It was a glorious turnout for Angaza, whose literary productions equaled her commitment to marginalized communities. She left us with a tremendous legacy, including a generous supply of books from her collection, freely available for attendees, and some folks took more than one.
After a thunderous welcome from three percussionists, her firstborn son, Osayande Jabulani Angaza (Men-t Saungkh Heru), set the stage for commemorations, one of which was delivered in keeping with Angaza's devotion to the Kemitic tradition. As expected, there were several reflections from family members and guest speakers, moments highlighted by journalist Milton Allimadi. He recounted her editorial insight and courage during their days at the . "She had such confidence in me, and would only ask if my story was 100% solid," he said. "'All I need is your word' and I said yes and that was it."
Given the length of the memorial and a previous commitment, there was no way for me to experience the full celebration. Greg Thomas, a writer who knew Angaza in several ways, including their monthly rituals as members of Ausar-Auset Society in Brooklyn and her role in promoting his career, gave me a quote as I left. "She was a soft-spoken and soulful sister who I remember fondly," Thomas said by text. "She was a good editor who gave me a shot as a young writer."
Carolyn Butts, the founder of , where Angaza was an unflagging associate, offered her impressions and memories of Angaza on several platforms. "We were cheerleaders for each other," Butts wrote in a statement to , another outlet for Angaza. "As friends, we pulled each other up. If there was a dream to be had, we claimed it together."
One of Angaza's short stories that was included in the program for the celebration of her life was about a memory of her grandmother, Mari: "The women in our family — we move mountains!" The women who surrounded Angaza viewed her as the inspiration and the aspiration to move the mountains of oppression, racism, and misogynism.
Under the best circumstances, you can get to Harlem from Brooklyn in about an hour, and I got to the Harlem Prep School (E. 123rd Street) in the middle of a performance by Burnt Sugar Arkestral as part of the 8th Annual Harlem Sugar Hill Music Festival, with a salute to the group's founder: the late Greg Tate.
A notice that rain was predicted forced Karen Taylor, who spearheads While We Are Still Here, to find an alternate site, which she was able to do at the last minute. That would not have been possible without the speedy response and rescue by Carmen Cruz, founder of the Silent Procession for Puerto Rico, who also sits on the WWSH advisory board, as well as Iris Aponte, manager of Taino Towers.
The Tato Laviera Theater was a perfect alternative with its ambience. The music was as soothing as it was uplifting, particularly to hear Nelson George and LaTasha Nevada Diggs chant "Nobody Loves a Genius Child," Tate's tribute to the artist Jean Michel Basquiat, from his book "Flyboy in the Buttermilk."
When the event's moderator, Billy Mitchell, known as "Mr. Apollo," brought Taylor to the microphone, it gave the performers a break in a lineup that featured such entertainers as Allan Harris, pianist Marcus Persiani, the Steven Oquendo Latin Jazz Orchestra, TC III, and Jenn Jade Ledesna.
The indefatigable Taylor described some of the programs underway at WWSH, most notably "Signs of the Time," a Harlem Heritage Markers Project. "We are going to install 25 historical markers throughout Harlem and at this point, there are seven already installed ... maybe some of you have seen them on 125th Street," she said. "What we are trying to do is to make the history of Harlem unavoidable."
The whirlwind of motion that followed Taylor was dancer/singer Ledesna, and it was all she could do to keep up with the band. She next lit into a sizzling version of "Them There Eyes," which quickly evolved into a wordless scat without losing a beat.
When my phone sang out, it was a reminder to hurry to the Harlem Book Fair, but when I stepped outside, I was greeted by a torrential downpour, so Taylor's instincts were once again prophetic. I realized I had a busy Sunday with Nikki Williams's "Soul Jam Spreadin' Sweet — Are & Be Ready for a Brand New Beat," event at the Denny Farrell Riverbank Park.
Williams was my last maven to honor with my presence. She had me included as a speaker, but I explained that I could not do that and cover the event, too. She relented, but not without some regret that I would not be able to represent the Motown years in her cavalcade of sound and memories.
Before her show kicked off, there were words of appreciation from State Senator Cordell Cleare, along with a proclamation in tribute to her tireless advocacy for Black culture. "I bring to you a proclamation congratulating Spirit and Sunset Productions, and all those associated with spreading jam, joy, and jive," she said.
The senator cut short her remarks and allowed Martha and the Vandellas to kick out the jams — the veritable history of 45s — with "Dancin' in the Streets." What followed was a litany of hits from the world of R&B — Marvin Gaye, Kool and the Gang, Aretha Franklin, LaBelle — with each selection accompanied by community members, such as j.e. Franklin, Laura Bowman, and Lamon Fenner, among my friends and neighbors. To list them all would have been similar to the task of citing all those at Angaza's celebration or Taylor's performers at Harlem Prep.
It all amounted to a festive, unforgettable weekend of memorable mavens.
And I would be remiss not to mention another one I had hoped to see as I crossed the Riverbank back to Sugar Hill: the inimitable Marie Brown, who I was surprised to see in Brooklyn and at Harlem Prep. How in the world could this remarkable maven keep up with me?
