Rethinking Beyoncé: Video Gender Studies

But here the video does one of its awesome things. It’s all trippy and wild. Beyonce isn’t just one Beyonce, she’s five Beyonces. Walter Benjamin (famous art/media/cultural studies person) wrote a piece called “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” (reproduced here: http://design.wishiewashie.com/HT5/WalterBenjaminTheWorkofArt.pdf) which gets into what it means to be a piece of art in a time where shit can be remade over and over again. So back in time, you had to get that ass up and GO to the museum to see art. And at the time this was written, shit could be reproduced and the process of spending mad time and energy to see shit was no longer so necessary. You can develop mad photos with a single photograph whereas before you had one masterpiece and you had to protect the shit out of that masterpiece lest it deteriorate or otherwise get altered. Anyway, in 2009 we’re in like an age of digital reproduction where even human beings are reproduced (via video) and can even be reproduced in the same instance. And Beyonce’s not looking demurely away from the camera—a method that would increase the viewer’s power/pleasure because they can feel as thought they’s a fly on a wall—but actively engaging, so much so that she’s wearing shades and you can’t tell what she’s thinking. There are like five Beyonces who are like “look at me, I know I’m sexy and I know you want this, but by no means does that suggest I have no self-respect or self-control.” And questions of authenticity in our age—“which is the real Beyonce?” “is there a real Beyonce?”—arise as a result of this reproduction. Also the bodies have translucent trails, which again is part of it’s self-reference of videohood. And at 1:12 the center Beyonce’s chewing gum with her mouth all open, which may or not be significant, but is kinda funny.

Beyoncé is actively engaged with the gaze of the camera in “Video Phone,” and as TPF states it is both subversive and conservative. The act can be seen as conservative because the poses and costuming in the videos reinforces the dynamics of the dominant media narrative about women, sex, and agency. In Dreamworlds 3, Sut Jhally explains how the language of the dreamworld in music videos is clear – women are to be viewed as consumables, available for the enjoyment of the male gaze.

As Jhally explains:

Even artists such as Madonna, who want to present themselves as assertive, independent, and powerful, have to do it within the conventions of the dreamworld when it comes to highlighting their sexuality. And as the codes of female sexuality define it as passive and submissive, they find themselves in a strange paradox.

This paradox is where Beyoncé has carved out her career.

I enjoy Beyoncé as a performer, and as someone who consistently churns out club hits. However, the race/gender analyst in me tends to work overtime when consuming the media she releases, as much of her body of work plays – deliberately? – on that complicated border. While the images in “Video Phone’ may be subversive, Beyoncé’s videography paints a detailed picture of gender relations in a heterosexual context – one which is applauded by mainstream culture. Generally, her singles are about attracting male attention (for the first time, in a relationship, or post break up), deeming that she does not need male attention because she has money (which, by extension, represents freedom), or props up the idea of a woman’s role in the relationship as being subordinate to a man’s. For every ‘Survivor,” (which has lyrics that are not gendered) there are faux empowerment anthems like “Independent Women,” “Single Ladies,” “Bills, Bills, Bills,” which focus on cash flow being central to a relationship or to a woman’s independence.

Many of her collaborations follow the same script, like her vocals on “I Got That” with rapper Amil, which has a chorus of “don’t need you ’cause the rent is due/ you can be outta here baby/ because I got it.” Beyoncé’s presentation makes this sound like empowerment – telling someone else where to get off is always fun and she laces her honeyed vocals with a heavy dose of swagger. But underneath the lyrics, the fact remains that the woman Beyoncé portrays always defines herself against a man, and any empowerment she receives is from severing herself from one man into the arms of another (See: “Irreplaceable”) or attracting more male attention.

With that being said, it is hard to separate Beyoncé as a performer from those around her, such as video producers, directors, and choreographers who may find a way through her presentation to articulate a different type of gender politic.

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