We didn’t break up when sisley tyson put it together
How weird to convince someone who is not programmed to expect us. But American entertainment worked hard on the mold that Sicily Tyson refused to fit. So, in fact, what we have been saluting for all these decades was historical defiance. He Died on thursdayAt 96, after the release of “Just As I Am”, in a juicy, honest, passionate manner Memoirs. (“Well, kid, let me tell you: my mouth was torn open like a broken pocketbook.”) And on the opening pages the truth is revealed about the fact that she was who she was as an artist.
“My art both reflected the times and moved them forward,” she writes. “I was determined to do all I could to change the narrative about black people – reflecting our dignity in the way that black women in particular were perceived.” Tyson made this pledge in 1972 by Rev. Dr. A few years after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., the so-called blockplatings took place at the dawn of the filmmaking boom, which did not materialize. Some hooker, some servant, some very bad uncle. This meant that for a woman dependent on an industry that trained her patrons to be as eccentric and angular and nut-brown as to ignore an aesthetic, she would inevitably declare a hunger strike.
I wish she wasn’t playing the boldest, out-character. And let’s face it: Great Stakes always headed for someone anyway. The more audacious move was to declare himself a moral ancestor, to walk with his head so that Denzel Washington becomes a man on fire and Viola Davis can learn how to get away with murder.
Tyson had a remarkable physical presence, someone carved as much as a birth. His body was a dancer. She looked fragile. But only “seemed.” She was delicate in the way a steel ribbon holds a part of the bridge. The confusing nature of her beauty was right there in the name. Sisley Tyson. Poison and punch.
He had an overbite, front teeth and two stuffed lips in his mouth. The words he spoke brought with him an extra breath that illuminated him forever, leaving us leaning towards him so that whatever he was about to tell us would not be missed. She did not write scripts, yet she did not waste a word. HowThe And that’s the way he spoke: with the Arrowdit diction fragrance of both old showbiz and old Harlem. No black woman has ever performed with grace and grace. Of course, the mold that this was, no one ever asked a black woman to do such a thing. (Diehan Carroll appeared as her sister in Carol Dignity.)
Tyson was a weird kind of celebrity. I was never told about its importance. I just knew. everybody knew. This woman was somethingBody. She was seen as a saint, Vandit at the age of 29, 36, 49 and 60. It is possible that once you played the former 110-year-old slave woman in “The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pitman” and after that you played the mother of Kunta Kinte. Or maybe they are roles That’s why You radiate meritlessness.
She could act with her full head still hardly able to move it completely. He is his most “sounder,” transferring to his stillness. In 1972, “Sounder” is a quiet, depression-era film, built around a Louisiana sharecropper named Nathan and Rebecca Morgan, their three children’s and family dogs, Sounder. that’s silly. The night scenes are dazzled with lanterns, which would not be my first choice for a film with such a brown skin. Tyson spends a few scenes under a large straw hat that hides half of his face.
It would be a death for a lot of actors, because they are meaningless to stand for it or what is lacking to remove such ambiguity. It is all in the eyes for that kind of actor. In four decades of watching this woman’s work, I came to know that her techniques rarely depended on her eyes, though they could shine and dance. Tyson was another type of actor: a life force. He emitted and stirred up: an ocean of hurt, warmth, joy, doubt, fear, hatred, love – love.
CICELY TYSON WAS Everybody knows. But in black homes, Tyson referred to “household names”. More of a fixture than a star, either in an enlightened way. A natural resource, a wonder, a font, a dream, a beacon. The other actor acted with such a clear purpose, vocation and seriousness on one side and a devastating smile on the other side? Tyson knew what he represented. An honorary Oscar, three Emmys, a stack of Emmy nominations and a Tony all came her way. The way is suitable for a woman who values herself, hence the eight NAACP Image Awards.
One of them was to play the role of Marva Collins in “The Marva Collins Story”, a shocking hallmark for the creation of the Hall of Hall of Fame following the 1981 airing of CBS. Collins taught In a Chicago public school, the film turns into a zoo everywhere but inside his classroom. This is the best Tyson. The bureaucracy and low expectations of the school system prompted Collins to open a private school in the upstairs unit of his home. When a white teacher calls everyone her disability, Marva takes her to a death ring and says, “I dress Miss Denny the way I do, because I believe my Children deserve Affirmative Image. “Tyson is loose and charming and sharp; Married a carpenter played by Morgan Freeman; Romantic, witty, ineffective and – thanks to Swamy – the well-lit, parents’ teacher of dreams, the actor needed this country in more slam-dunk roles like this.
Consider the parts he could have played when the movies were fair. Consider what we are saying now if its standards were low. How’s that for fairness?
I often understood that Tyson hung on a little bit, perhaps for himself, which, in turn, forces us to hang on to him more tightly. In “Sounder”, after a judge sentenced Nathan to one year of hard labor, the film was cut to Rebecca, who was sitting behind a courtroom surrounded by her children and two friends. Instead of Villain, she just grimly understands, one hand supporting her head. Of course, he is devastated; Marriage is strong. But in that moment, what you see is that Tyson is performance, solution, strategy. She knows that she has to do farming now – The Share cropping on one’s own. That moment you find difficult is not what Tyson does. Poise, punch.
He rarely broke down. He never broke. He put it together, lest the rest of us fall. “Marva Collins” was as close to Tyson as he reached the end of his mind. And yet: she was losing it for her people. There were other exceptions. In “Sounder” he says the scene, in which Nathan jumps freshly from that labor camp, he moves toward the road as he runs 100 yards of water toward him, tears flying from his face, his arms open. Huh. There is no way to run this dash. Instead, he invented a muscle-driven run, but entirely from the heart. This sprint goes to the national registry of great American film shots. And how about when the ancient Miss Jane takes that drink at the “white only” fountain? You can show a Martian and he will wipe his mouth water.
Tyson knew his place. It was in our movie palace and living room, but on the kitchen and dining room tables of the Black families, a symbol of his race, a pot through which one ceased to pass the entire entertaining entertainment history as he closed it done; So that – in his love, grace, loyalty and determination – he dares to make a choice. She moved with her head held high, her chest out, her shoulders behind as if she was carrying a lot of weight, which never bothered her because she knew he was carrying us.