Lemonade
Stephanie Burton
Let me start by saying, it took me a LONGGGG time to push
play on Beyonce’s new visual album, Lemonade. My stubborn hesitation had
more to do with me as a person than the flowing, blonde wig wearing 34-year-old
powerhouse who can “cause all this conversation.” Her stellar business acumen
aside, I just don’t like overrated art, and I had the feeling that once again
Beyonce had found a way to sing and dance just like everyone else while
commanding a mega following like no one else. But don’t come for me yet
Beyhive—just keep reading.
Lemonade, in all of its 65-minute glory, is well worth the
hype. It was the most beautiful, haunting, horrific, courageous, outstanding
piece of visual artistry that music lovers have seen perhaps ever (yeah, I said
it)! With agonizing vulnerability and honesty, Beyonce navigated viewers
through every stage of a black woman’s grief while tackling weighted subjects
that have caused our race infinite heartbreak. Tales of cheating husbands,
absentee fathers, European beauty standards, racism, sexism, police brutality,
and self-esteem all take center stage in this impactful musical drama. Plus, it
had a satisfying amount of “rachetness” sprinkled in (Becky with the good hair,
anyone)!?
But that’s not all it is. Lemonade is also an
overdue celebration of black feminine majesty. Many times throughout the album,
Beyonce is joined by a host of beautiful black women of all shapes and sizes—including
Serena Williams, Zendaya, and Trayvon Martin and Mike Brown’s mothers. Some of
these black women dance or twerk along to the beat, others stare hauntingly
into the camera, and a few just stay eerily still almost like stunning back
drops or window dressing. No matter their physical or emotional stance, they
ALL exude black regality and greatness with their ability to keep living after
heartbreak and pain. Simply put, they are making lemonade out of lemons and
they look good while doing it.
The beautiful songstress also dawns several spiritual identities
throughout including the African orisha, Oshun, as well as Erzulie Red Eyes,
the Haitian spirit. I couldn’t help but scream YASSSS every time I could
identify yet another deity that Queen Bey was paying homage to.
Even the lyrics transcended the physical realm and exuded an
African spiritual quality. To accomplish this amazing feat, Beyonce employed
now famous poet, Warsan Shire, to deliver the album’s strong messaging with
lines such as:
"you can't
make homes out of human beings. someone
should have already told you that and if he wants to leave then let him leave."
