THE ROOTS OF AFROFUTURISM

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Afrofuturism is a broad term for work that reinvents the future, present, and past from the perspective of the African diaspora. As of 2024, we describe it as a cultural movement that challenges and rewrites the boundaries of reality, created by musicians, artists, writers, philosophers, fashion icons, filmmakers, costume and set designers, actors, activists, and academics who envision a world where cultural and racial boundaries not only blur but are completely revised. Much Afrofuturistic work involves redefining black and white, blending Western and non-Western influences, and imagining new connections between Africa and Europe. This movement, which originated in America as a response to racism and inequality, differs from European science fiction that emerged from industrialization and nihilism. For African Americans, often faced with oppression, dreaming of freedom was almost like science fiction—a stark contrast to the sci-fi works produced by white creators. Pioneers such as W.E.B. Du Bois from Massachusetts and Californian Octavia E. Butler paved the way in the first half of the 20th century: Du Bois with his stories of interracial love in dangerous times, and Butler by breaking the norms of the predominantly white sci-fi world with her tales of black superheroes in intergalactic settings.

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The standard Afro-futurist narrative, rooted in science fiction and the African American experience, is deeply intertwined with the historical context of slavery. Consider this: the ancestors of Afro-American communities were forcibly taken from their homeland by people wielding superior technology, transported to a foreign land, and subjected to centuries of oppression and enslavement. Their labor fueled the prosperity of a society they never benefited from, akin to being abducted by extraterrestrial beings—except in this case, the "aliens" were colonists from the Western world. Unfortunately, this painful history often serves as the foundation for futuristic storytelling, as creators seek to reimagine and confront the past.

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With the way Butler exposed this storyline, she laid the groundwork for future works where African culture was celebrated, artistically explored and envisioned in many ways. Africa was no longer seen as the continent of pitiful children with distended bellies, but rather as a place of pride and artistic inspiration. This shift was first recognized by musicians from the 1960s and later embraced by hip-hop artists and other creatives. From the cosmic jazz of Sun Ra and the soulful sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire, to the groundbreaking art of Jean Michel Basquiat and the beats of Funkadelic and MF Doom, all these artistic expressions are intertwined with Afrofuturism, where the creation of art is about shaping new narratives for their time.

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The term was actually only coined thirty years ago: before the scholar Mark Dery introduced it in academic circles with his essay "Black to the Future" in 1993, we simply referred to it as "black sci-fi." Afrofuturism gained new prominence in the early 21st century. Films like "Black Panther" and "Wakanda Forever" from the Marvel Cinematic Universe make the message of Afrofuturist creators palpable today. Although "Black Panther" - originally a comic book about a black superhero created in the 1960s by two white men for Marvel Comics - strictly speaking, cannot be seen as Afrofuturistic, the film adaptation has clearly evolved in that direction. The movie presents a vision of an alternative, Afrocentric future and has become one of the most recognizable expressions of Afrofuturism worldwide.

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TRIBAL, SPACE OPERA, CYPERPUNK: AN ESTHETIC STATEMENT

Afrofuturism is characterized by the incorporation of "futuristic" elements that may not necessarily originate from the future, but rather from another continent, yet are perceived as futuristic within their own era. Because in a world dominated by Western art, the incorporation of African elements served as an aesthetic statement. Today, everyone recognizes the spacey aesthetic where African symbols: technoculture, ancient Egyptian symbols, cyborg style, tribal vibes, space opera, cyberpunk, robot imagery, and sleek metals converge. In the 1960s, All of this was new, as if this style came directly from the farthest reaches of Pluto. Jazz legends like Sun Ra and Earth, Wind & Fire pioneered this movement, adorning their album covers with decorations inspired by ancient Egypt. Their influence extended far beyond the boundaries of their art and music, uniquely connecting jazz and space exploration. Simultaneously, African American culture flourished with the explosion of television productions at the time. We also see influences in the funk of Jimi Hendrix and Prince, continuing to resonate in the work of modern artists like Erykah Badu and Janelle Monáe, who carry on this rich tradition in their visuals and music.

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Despite those esthetical celebrations, criticism of the Afrofuturist movement has been substantial. According to some, the essence of Afrofuturism, often described as the question "what could be," doesn't necessarily need to be linked to Africa. Why does the term specifically include "afro" - why can it not simply be  "futurism"? In these contexts, afrofuturism is sometimes being viewed as a form of exoticism or escapism, including silver dashikis and pyramid-shaped spaceships, which detract from the broader and richer reality of Africa.  Additionally, there's criticism of the representation of "authentic" Africans versus the fantasies of African Americans, leading to debates about the boundaries and relevance of black nationalism and Pan-Africanism. Critiques often arise from individuals' own positions on the chessboard: if you live in Africa and belong to the middle class through hard work, it's difficult to understand why overly wild and imaginative comic books and films are necessary to reinforce the image of your culture.

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From there, we can ask the question: is Afrofuturism more than just style, art form, and story in a fantasy world? There is an increasing recognition that Afrofuturism is much more than that. It is a perspective. Afrofuturism does not focus on Europe, European concepts, ideas, and philosophies, but on Africa. African worldviews challenge conventional Western thought patterns. For example, a traditional African worldview is more rooted in community, interconnectedness, and a collective future. People live in tribes instead of countries, move together across the continent, in stark contrast to the nationalist-oriented and boundary-thinking we know from the West. We are so accustomed to reasoning from the worldview grounded in Ancient Greece that we forget we can also view things differently. This is what always made it a promising perspective from which to speculate on the future direction of the world.

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THE EVOLUTION OF AFROFUTURISM BEYOND BORDERS

Whether in storyline, style, philosophy, or as a form of escapism, Afrofuturism has developed into a global phenomenon. Where pioneers like Octavia Butler and Du Bois once fought for recognition, in 2024 we see a growing appreciation for non-Western ideologies and all the artistic expressions associated with them. Also, the evolution of Afrofuturism transcended American borders: there are numerous intriguing Arabic, French, Portuguese, and Spanish versions to be found of afrofuturism. A milestone in this development was the UNESCO conference in 2012, where Afrofuturism was officially recognized as a cultural movement. Professor Reynaldo Anderson, present at the conference and an expert in Africology and African American Studies, emphasizes the significance of Afrofuturism not only as an artistic concept but as a philosophical foundation for African Americans. It's more than just an exotic creative excursion for Western artists: it offers a worldview that provides hope for people living in a world where living conditions are often far from optimal and entrenched racism remains a reality.

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In the Netherlands, Afrofuturism found its way, but it landed differently—especially later—than in the United States. While the rise of Afrofuturism in the Netherlands, like in the US, was strongly linked to discussions about diversity, the conversation about racial inequality started later here. It may be hard to imagine now, but African culture, like many others, was not prominently present in daily life in the Netherlands thirty years ago. Society heavily leaned on a uniform Dutch identity, with little room for the diversity of backgrounds and cultures. That has changed now. Diversity is high on the agenda for many museums and theaters; the urgency is felt. But that wasn't the case then. Theater makers, musicians, artists, and essentially every member of society still had to fight against stereotypes. You could exist, and there was acceptance, but you were always different because of being "black" in a world where white skin was the norm.

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In the 1990s, when the concept of Afrofuturism was still new in the Netherlands, the organization Made in Da Shade, precursor to RIGHTABOUTNOW Inc., began producing performances with an Afrofuturistic component. The collective, comprised of actors, DJs, artists, musicians, writers, rappers, painters, and computer programmers, was driven by the desire to break away from the narrative of victimhood often associated with being black in the Netherlands. Maarten, co-founder, provides context: "In the 1990s, artistic expressions in the Netherlands were predominantly white. On stage, you mainly saw Dutch actors in classic productions. A black actor on stage was almost a statement because the audience automatically expected white actors. Being black already carried a heavy narrative: we wanted to move away from that. Afrofuturism offered a new stage to redefine identity, looking beyond traditional frameworks of what it means to be black." "That was exactly what we needed when we started the collective in the 1990s, especially here in Amsterdam, a city rich in untold cultural stories," Maarten explains.

AFROFUTURISTIC PRODUCTIONS IN THE LOWLANDS

How did all of this take shape? From the outset, Made in da Shade integrated Afrofuturistic themes into their productions, starting with their first show, 'Shade', in 1994. Inspired by the Ballroom culture of the cult documentary "Paris is Burning," the music of Jimi Hendrix, and the Ultramagnetic MC’s, they began to develop a distinctive style that would form the basis for all their future works. Productions such as 'Booyaka! Booyaka!' (1996), influenced by Japanese anime, and 'Angel' (1997), a story about two R&B aliens hijacking a Dutch radio station, followed. 'Diggydotcom' (2000) introduced the audience to avatars lost in a virtual world, while 'Mothership Connection' (2002) focused on a funk diva and her robot assistant.

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The futuristic element in Made in da Shade’s work was not only thematic but also technological. From their fourth production, 'VOODO' (1999), they began collaborating with technicians such as Ruud Lanfermeijer, Remko van Dokkum, and Marcel Wierckx, along with regular technician Michael Cohen-Jehoram, to develop interactive multimedia software and hardware that played a crucial role in their performances. This led to the creation of fully interactive stages where actors could control live images and sound through movement and sound, as seen in 'Diggydotcom,' and the development of the robot for 'Mothership Connection.'

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Made in da Shade's rehearsal studio, located in an old school in Amsterdam West, served as a cross between a theater studio and an electrical workshop. Here, they experimented with ways to address mainstream narratives in both form and content, an approach they called 'hip-hop dramaturgy.' They drew inspiration from the post-colonial work of artist and filmmaker Felix de Rooij, the eclectic montage theater of Michael Matthews, and the layered paintings of Jean Michel Basquiat, enriched by their own hyper-diverse Surinamese background.

IS AFROFUTURISM TRULY FUTURISTIC?

Afrofuturism has had a significant artistic influence in the Netherlands. Once seen as coming from another planet in the 1990s, it found its place within popular culture and cultural institutions, particularly in museums. Events like the Other Futures festival and exhibitions like the one at the Tropenmuseum highlight this. Additionally, there's a growing community of black writers and artists in the Netherlands engaged with Afrofuturism, and there are various exhibitions and even a government-funded Pan-African Institute. Its use by theater collectives and other art forms demonstrates that it's more than just imaginative escapism—it's a thoughtful artistic exploration that has led to a rich production of art and culture across the country. 

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From there arises the question: is Afrofuturism truly futuristic? Is exploring artistic disciplines, integrating elements from other parts of the world, and experimenting with new visions genuinely something spacey and other-wordly? Or is it actually a more realistic and inclusive approach that honors our world and its diverse cultures? Perhaps Afrofuturism primarily serves as a starting point for shaping a future where we have a deeper understanding of parts of the world that have been underrepresented until now. It highlights the complex interactions between Western and non-Western cultures, giving us a clearer picture of its impact in 2023. 

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Because, honestly, how much do we really know about Africa, its culture, its history? Knowledge of common Dutch people often extends only to the realization that the Dutch have applied exploitation in various ways. Additionally, in the West, we often have a kind of 'Afro-pessimism': an unconscious belief that Africa will always remain entangled in misery and underdeveloped. However, this image does not do justice to Africa's rich and varied history, which extends beyond just the slavery past. Before colonization by the Dutch, Africa had kings who were significantly richer than contemporary billionaires like Elon Musk, with extensive libraries and universities that have now been lost, and cities with advanced logistical and societal systems that we only could dream of today. So it's not all that futuristic after all. The forgotten rituals, stories, symbols, colors, and languages that may seem speculative and 'imaginative' to Westerners often are closer to reality than we often realize.

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Maarten hopes that Afrofuturism remains primarily a movement to continue questioning society. And to envision new, hopeful directions that go beyond mainstream narratives. So that things can shift in the future in both art and society. This is what the founders of Made In Da Shade envisioned in the 1990s. "Afrofuturism is a fundamental way of looking at the world around us that can lead us to different realities, solutions, and ideas," Maarten explains. "The black experience is characterized by a historical struggle for existence, the right to live, to be recognized as a person, and to have basic rights, in search of political, social, and economic equality." This is exactly what the first Afrofuturists began their story with 70 years ago. "You got to make your own worlds," is what Butler wrote. "You got to write yourself in. That's the real power of Afrofuturism: it boldly goes where no man has gone." Here's to storylines that guide us toward a meaningful future.