
Singer R. Kelly appears during a hearing at the Leighton Criminal Courthouse in Chicago, Illinois on September 17, 2019. PHOTO / AFP
Suppose you were well aware that your favourite artist sang your all-time favourite song while hacking to death an innocent child, would you still say such things as “separating art from the artist”? Could you still love his music but hate the man? Does that even make sense? Would his music still evoke feelings of love and affection? Okay, let us bring it closer to home: food. If you received a video of Mama Gundi frying your favourite beef samosas stark naked in the middle of Mabira Forest, chatting with some bajaja from down below while twiddling her underarm hair, would you still buy her samosas? Love the samosas, but cancel the cook? You say you hate that R. Kelly is a prolific sexual offender, but you love his falsetto when he sings “My mind is telling me no, but my body, my body is telling me yes,” in Bump N’ Grind. Never mind that what he probably meant when he sang that line is that his body did not care how old his next victim was; likely a 14-year-old, being marinated with drugs, alcohol and money somewhere in one of his mansions or hotels. I honestly congratulate everyone who can look past the filth of the artist and still appreciate their music.
The rest of us petty people will just stick to listening to bitontome from our mothers, because everything else seems corrupted by the creators and producers of the art. Music, they say, is transport. It is designed to take you places and make you feel things. But it is also a form of mind control. It can subtly co-opt you into belief systems or cultures you would otherwise never entertain. That is why, beyond the beats, rhythms, and glitz, the spirit of the song matters. Just like that new 30km/h speed limit in urban centres. What is the spirit behind it? Is it truly about road safety, or about lowering the threshold for catching people “offside”? Almost like a trap to ensure everyone gets a speeding ticket? Yes, it is common sense not to drive above 30km/h in a crowded centre. But what about at midnight on a deserted road in Ntinda or along the Lugogo Bypass? Why would someone like Ssejjengo be crawling along at 30km/h for fear of being nabbed by a blinking camera and fined Shs200,000 for driving at 50km/h? What is the real spirit behind these regulations, and behind R. Kelly’s, Puff Daddy’s, or Smokey Robinson’s music? Doesn’t it matter? Take Diddy, a.k.a. Sean Combs; famous American rapper, record producer, record executive, renowned baby oil consumer, sex trafficker, freak-off party organiser, proud voyeur, and many other titles he has gathered over time. It is not his music or art that is on trial now; it is the man.
In a federal court in New York, he is facing charges of leading a racketeering conspiracy involving sex trafficking, forced labour, kidnapping, arson, bribery, and accusations of sexual abuse, by both men and women. I hear the case includes some truly bizarre details, such as being inappropriate on a father’s grave. And after hearing those, you, like me, might be a bit hesitant to remain a die-hard fan of this “Bad Boy for Life.” He really was not joking when he said he is the definition of “half man, half drugs.” In fact, methinks he would make for a more interesting case in the Court Martial. Keep them scandalised so they can forget about the rest of us little people who belong to the civil court. Now, I am fully aware that we all have secret lives. Some spicier than others. So really, who am I to judge? But you know what they say: With great influence comes great responsibility. Yes, we all have skeletons in our closets, but unlike Diddy and the rest, ours would not make it beyond short-shelf-life gossip in WhatsApp groups. So anyway, do you? Do you separate the art from the artist, or the Member of Parliament from the con.
Takeaway
Some believe art should be judged separately from the artist, especially if the work itself does not promote harm. Others feel that continuing to support such art indirectly excuses the artist’s actions.
The choice often depends on the severity of the wrongdoing and personal values. While it is possible to still enjoy the art, it is also okay to stop engaging with it out of principle.
Ultimately, everyone must decide what feels right for them, while respecting others who may choose differently.