If you haven’t seen The Agronomist—-Jonathan Demme’s documentary about Jean-Léopold Dominique, the trailblazing Haitian journalist—you really should allocate about 90 minutes of whatever time you have left in your life span to do so.

The helmer of Radio Haiti-Inter died at the age 69 in 2000 from (an) assassin(s) bullets (along with his caretaker Jean-Claude Louissaint), but thankfully Demme already had plenty of footage of the journalist, captured over the years, during two exiles that he and his wife Michèle Montas spent in New York, and pieced them together to create what has got to be one of the most compelling documentaries about Haiti. Ever.

This documentary is interesting from so many angles. There’s the freedom of speech angle. Although born into an intellectual family, and one of the most elite families in the island nation, Dominique’s heart was always with the people. Many people were puzzled that Demme chose to title his documentary The Agronomist and not The Journalist (after all, that’s the profession that brought him fame), but Dominique clarifies this at one point during one of his many sit-down interviews with Demme. He is really a farmer at heart, a lover of the land, who became a journalist, a spokesperson for the poor—out of necessity—because there was no one else to speak for them. From the time Dominique’s father would take him to tour the outskirts of Haiti, and make the rounds of farming lots, the love for the earth was apparent in him. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, Dominique stood up for Haiti’s farmers, whose rice harvest was being forcibly divided with corrupt countryside chiefs. This was top news on Dominique’s radio broadcasts on Radio Haiti-Inter, which he had by now, purchased from the original owner.

One cannot talk about the Jean-Léopold Dominique experience without mentioning Michèle Montas. It’s no wonder the two joined forces to create one of the most admired journalistic teams in Haiti. Behind every great man, there’s a spectacular woman, and Michèle Montas was that person in Dominique’s life. She had no typical childhood, at least not “typical”, in the sense of what we “typically” think we know about people’s lives in Haiti. At one point, nearly her whole family was wiped out, prompting an early exile to Maine, where she finished high school. Her move to Maine, brings us to another angle, the immigration and social class angle. Montas had a privileged childhood indeed. She actually became a homecoming queen pre-Civil Rights in the United States of America. Yeah, you read right, a little Haitian girl became homecoming queen at a probably predominantly white senior high school. Granted, it was in Maine, not in Deep South Mississippi or anything, but that part of the documentary really caught my attention…that waay back in the early 1960s, some scrawny little Haitian girl was voted homecoming queen at an American school. Didn’t she think the odds were against her? Or because she was not accustomed to color discrimination in her home country, she went in, fully confident, and that confident won those voters over. Her brother, Montas said in the documentary, was already living in Maine, which of course just confirmed what I’ve read in books about Haitian immigration…first the exodus started with the middle class (who’ve always sent their sons and daughters overseas to get educated, anyway), and then came the boat people (their drowning and mistreatment and repatriation is also well-documented in the documentary). This aspect of the documentary took my mind back to this letter that was being auctioned on Ebay once. It was a letter from a Haitian student in 1927 who was attending some prestigious U.S. university, that he sent to his father in Haiti. Nothing new under the sun, as the maxim goes. Montas, is the woman behind the man, indeed. A graduate of Columbia University’s journalism school, she is equally as intriguing as her husband, and with good reason, is a chunky part of this fascinating documentary.

One cannot help but be taken with the use of throwback, sepia and black and white photos and paintings and how they were blended to lend to the narrative power of the documentary (Demme is a renowned Haitian art collector). In the last few minutes of the documentary, one feels as if one knew Jean-Léopold Dominique personally. He was quite a personality, one can surmise. The sniffing of the air, the mariner’s caps, the trademark pipe, the journalist mannerisms, and the boldness, his intrepid laughter, his uncanny sense of humor, his audacity when it came to outing the truth. How can a man whose life was threatened so many times, have insisted on continuing to speak so boldly? He seems to have had the premonition that he would be killed eventually (he had already told his wife that that he wanted his ashes to be spread in a river).

If you’re hoping to learn more about Dominique, or to gain a more in-depth perspective about Demme’s love for Haiti, don’t look to the DVD. One was expecting some extras on the DVD, but perhaps Demme felt that all that could have been said was already said by Dominique. The art on the cover, with Dominique having his two fingers in the air, looks odd. If one were an Illuminati theorist, one would say that Dominique’s fingers look like the pagan god Batshuphet. The photo used on the DVD is actually photo taken of Dominique in 1986, upon his return from a nearly 6-year exile. That scene is telling. People have gathered at Haiti’s airport, friends, fans, fellow journalists, curious onlookers, and perhaps future foes. “Dominique! Dominique!” they start to chant. But he reverts the chant away from himself, shouting “Haiti, Haiti”, and the whole crowd joins with him.

Demme recruited Wyclef to do the score for the documentary (“Yo di-m drug dealer Ayiti/Se Mercedes Jeep yape kondi…I heard that all the drug dealers in Haiti are rolling their 4×4 Mercedes…”), and also interviewed Aboudja, a colleague, Dominique’s sisters, daughter, Montas herself, as well as Rassoul Labuchin and Arnold Antonin, two men who were members of Dominique’s cinema club in the 70s. It could have easily been Demme’s show, after all, he is one of the most acclaimed cinema directors of our time. But he made sure that there was one star throughout, and that was Jean-Léopold Dominique.

You cannot kill the truth with a bullet, is the documentary’s tagline. But apparently they killed a man with one.

Filmmaker Jonathan Demme has passed away, it was announced today. He was 73. Demme is known for many films, among them The Silence of the Lambs, for which he won the Best Director Oscar. The award-winning director and screenwriter was a fervent Haitian art collector, and one of the paintings in his collection was once used as the cover of the first edition of Breath, Eyes, Memory! Danticat and Demme were good friends, joined by their love for Haiti.

In the mid-2000s, Demme directed and produced The Agronomist, a documentary about the life of Jean-Leopold Dominique, a radio journalist slain in the early 2000s in Port-au-Prince.

Demme’s interest in Haiti was not just based on film and art. According to an article written by Larry Birnbaum in the archives of Spin magazine, Demme co-produced a collection of Haitian music that was released in 1990 called Burning Rhythms in collaboration with two other producers Fred Paul and Edward Saxon, helping bring Haitian music to wider audiences. He also used Haitian music in the soundtrack for the film Silence of the Lambs. And speaking of soundtracks, he recruited producer Jerry Wonda and Wyclef for the soundtrack that accompanied the release of The Agronomist.

Kreyolicious sends out ondolences to Mr. Demme’s family and loved ones.

Main Photo: Jonathan Demme with Michele Montas, featured in The Agronomist, during a showing of the film in 2003. Photo Credit: Getty

CLICK HERE to learn more about The Agronomist

If you have a deep love for the theatre—and especially Black Theatre—you most likely have heard of the award-winning, Detroit-born playwright Dominique Morisseau. If you haven’t, you will. The Edward M. Kennedy Prize winner (she won a year ago for her play “Detroit ’67”), is one of the most talked-about playwrights in the nation. She once told the entertainment personality LA Williams, that as a kid, she was a dancing fanatic. Now she makes words dance on paper, on stage and—most recently—on film.

K. St. Fort: As someone of Haitian descent born in Michigan, do you feel that you’re less connected to the culture of your parents and grandparents, since you’re not from a place like New York, Boston, or Spring Valley? A sociologist would probably say that children and grandchildren of immigrants from those places are more connected to the culture of their parents and grandparents.

Although there is definitely a Haitian Network of Detroit that is vibrant and alive, Haitians are for certain a very small population in Detroit. And I pretty much grew up as a Detroit girl, hearing no Kreyòl spoken but often hearing my father speak French among my uncle and aunts and grandmother. He taught me some French early in childhood but as it wasn’t my mother’s native tongue, nor did she speak it, rarely did I ever speak it as well. So yes, I felt (and sometimes still do) more disconnected to the culture. However, it is strongly in my heart and spirit to represent the Haitian ancestry that I have, regardless OF it not being in my cultural upbringing. It is in my blood and that keeps me feeling mightily connected.

K. St. Fort: I think that a lot of times when people think of creativity, they think LA, they think New York, they might even think Miami, or Portland, but rarely Detroit.

Actually, if they aren’t thinking of Detroit with creativity, they should. Detroit has always been a hotbed of the arts in music, visual art and theatre. While it doesn’t have a thriving performing arts economy, there is an abundance of creative artists living in the city and many of them were people that I grew up around and studied underneath. We aren’t just Motown. We are jazz, hip-hop, blues, electronic music. We are dance, painting, poetry. And we are theatre. It’s all very alive in Detroit and it just needs funding to become a full signature of the city.

K. St. Fort: You graduated from the University of Michigan. Looking back now, would you still have gone to college after high school, or would you have tried to go directly in the theater, as a stagehand or another entry level position to get in the industry?

Though I experienced a great battle with systemic and institutional racism while I was at Michigan, I would not trade my time [in college] for anything. I learned to be quite self-sufficient and resourceful at U of M. I found a community of students of color who were my backbone and who helped to support my art. I became a playwright as well as an actress at Michigan. And most importantly, I found my initial roots of activism there. It is not necessarily required for artists to go to college (or anyone really) in order to learn a trade like acting. But there are things I learned in college that would’ve taken me ten times longer to learn had I not gotten my degree in Theatre.

K. St. Fort: Have you visited Haiti?

I just visited Haiti last year—2014—for the first time since I was a baby. It was strange to feel so connected and yet so culture-shocked by my own people. The poverty in Haiti was deeply traumatizing for me. But the land was a gift and a dream to witness. My biggest discovery was that the people are not so easily fooled by “outsiders” nor are they trusting of Americans. There is a brutal relationship between Haiti and the developed world that has turned its back on Haitian people and I can feel it like electricity when I’m there. I was moved beyond words from my experiences. I ate very well, and felt a deep spiritual connection to the people that I was able to talk to and break bread with. I plan to write about Haiti as I dig deeper into my culture, even learning Kreyòl from a Haitian language instructor and friend. My impressions are still being discovered. It was just frankly overwhelming—and beautiful.

This concludes Part 1 of the interview with Dominique Morriseau. Be sure to check out for Part 2.

[Photo Credit: Joseph Moran (of playwright in red shirt). Monique Carboni (with green earrings) ].

CLICK HERE TO VISIT DOMINIQUE MORISSEAU’S WEBSITE.

Award-winning playwright and actress Dominique Morisseau may seem like one of those professionals whose success was handed to them on a silver-rimmed gold platter. The truth is that the University of Michigan BFA graduate has been at it for quite some time. She’s been honored for her creative labors with prestigious prizes like the Jane Chambers Playwriting Award honoree, and even two NAACP Image Awards, and not to mention the John F. Kennedy Prize for one of her plays. Film is in the future, for sure. After all, theatre and film are the dearest of cuzzos. If the intensity present in her plays Sunset Baby, Follow Me To Nellie’s, and Blood At The Root are some indication, then her future features for the big screen are bound to be more complex than the films we’re used to.

K. St. Fort: When you’re writing a play, what do you do when you get stuck, whether what direction the plot should take…or how the character should be developed?

I go back to my outline. Rarely will I start a play these days without some outline or story structure that I’ve written out. It helps me not get stuck in the play. But occasionally when I do write blindly (with no outline) and I get stuck, I stop and think about where I want the story to go. I may begin an outline from that point forward so that I can see the finish line. It’s hard to write without visualizing the finish line. Once I know where I’m trying to go, I can always find the words to get myself there. Knowing where I’m going is the hardest thing to figure out and the most necessary.

K. St. Fort: If you could recommend three books to the creatives out there, what would you recommend? And what effect have these books had on you?

I’d recommend four: Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi, The Street by Ann Petry, Native Son by Richard Wright [and] Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat.

K. St. Fort: What effect have these books had on you?

Each of these books opened up my senses, made me laugh and cry, charged me to wrestle with my social and racial politics, and asked me to look deeper into my own soul. Loved them all.

K. St. Fort: What would you say to someone who wants to be a film director or a playwright?

Find a mentor who can help you measure your steps and who can help you strengthen your voice as an artist. We can’t do any of this alone, so find someone who you admire—several people, actually—and look at their work. Try to decipher what about it excites you. And then, seek their guidance so that you have resources to build your art. But first and foremost, exercise your craft whenever you can. Write. Write. Write. Direct, direct, direct. Whenever. However. Just do it.


K. St. Fort: Anyone observing your career can see that you’re on the brink of making the transition from stage to screen.

I’m expanding, for sure, and adding the screen into my repertoire. I deeply respect television and filmmaking these days. However, I’ll never be fully finished with the stage. Just expanding. Not replacing. I will love and practice theatre forever!

K. St. Fort: Where do you see yourself…say five years from now—career-wise?

Doing more of what I do now but better and more efficiently. I’m still growing as an artist. I plan on having a long career in Theatre, TV and Film. I want to write more about Detroit, Haiti, NYC, and other places that I’ve been or that resonate with me. As a filmmaker, I’m only just beginning. So in five years, I see myself with a completed film and perhaps my own TV series. That’s the plan. Let’s see what happens.

CLICK HERE TO READ PART ONE OF THE INTERVIEW WITH DOMINIQUE MORISSEAU.

CLICK HERE TO VISIT DOMINIQUE MORISSEAU’S WEBSITE.

Welcome to another edition of the Haitian Book Club. Today’s selection is Memoir of an Amnesiac by Jan J. Dominique (Caribbean Studies Press, 277pp), translated by Irline François.

Memoir of an Amnesiac is intriguing just for its title. For the first thing that comes to mind is: how exactly will the pages of the memoir of amnesiac look like. Will there be some blank pages? Some paragraphs that read like they’re missing a preceding one?

The text of Memoir of an Amnesiac reads rather smoothly. The narrative goes back and forth between the hacked memories of Paul (called Lili) and her present life. It’s also the story of a little girl, who longs for the guidance and presence of a father, a father whose absenteeism is not wholly purposeful but is provoked by a repressive time in their homeland. Of the fear and paranoia that is her life, Lili writes: “The man in black was someone whom everybody knew, but who was not be named.”

When Lili goes to live in Canada, all the years of being afraid, of censoring even one’s own inner thoughts are behind her, but her paranoia isn’t. She throws herself into activism, into the nurturing of her daughter Maya, and begins the long-delayed process of healing past wounds inflicted by exile.

The fact that the author of Memoir of an Amnesiac is the daughter of Jean-Léopold Dominique, the renowned radio broadcaster who was gunned down in 2000, lends this special context to the book.

The cover art for the book, conceptualized by Ralph Allen, is very striking. It almost looks like a Salvador Dali painting, and is fragmented, has partial deletions just like the memory of an amnesiac.

Dominique LaFleur literally lives for acting. The New York-born, Boston-residing actress is the second female of her generation to be born in the United States. She comes from a long line of people who often had to start from scratch to make a more formidable beginning elsewhere. Her grandfather, for instance, immigrated to the United States and left a comfortable life in Haiti for a new life in New York. One of LaFleur’s goals in life is to carry on that torch left by her grandfather, and honor his legacy by being as successful as she can be. She is signed to The Crawford Agency, and looks forward to conquering Hollywood.

The actress Sophia Loren is quoted as having said this of beauty: “Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.” What about you…how do you define beauty?

Beauty has so many definitions. For me, it is not one of those words you can easily define and in different times in our lives it bears different meanings. At one point, beauty was having the best clothes in school, then it was being a wife and mother. My life has changed drastically in the past year, and beauty for me now, is positive reflection. Positive reflection of oneself in regards to life, work, emotional, physical, etc. I love Sophia Loren and admire her work greatly, but I want to quote a prominent Haitian actress on beauty. In an interview, Garcelle Beauvais said this about beauty: “It is being whole with yourself as a woman. We give so much and at the end of the day we just are stronger and more intelligent.” I want to be an example to the Haitian community, especially females. I have two baby sisters, so I think it is important to quote or bring to light women that represent “us”, that are gorgeous inside and reflect our own image.

Have you ever been a victim of lookism?

Judging by the root of the word; it is self-explanatory but I had to look it up just to make sure. I have not known this word existed till today, I just threw things under the category of ignorance, vain, offensive, etc. But my entire life I have dealt with this. From childhood to about freshman year in high school I got the usual “Haitian creation”, “You look Haitian”—used as a negative connotation, just the works. A strange shift happened after that. Even still to this day, a majority of people do not think I am Haitian. I always get accused of being another race but I quickly correct them with the “I am Haitian.” Then the offensive “Wow”, or “Really”, or “Are you sure you are not mixed?”—usually follows. I don’t know what the world’s image of a Haitian woman is, but in my opinion it is severely misguided. We come in many shades, shapes and sizes, and it is all beautiful.

It’s been said that one has to have thick skin, crocodile—rhino skin even—to be in the film acting business. What has been your experience?

No matter what business you are in, you need a thick skin to accomplish your goals in life. Some trades require it more than others–the entertainment industry being one of them. But, in my experience I steer completely clear of all naysayers and focus on being as positive and mentally strong as possible.

When was the last time you went to Haiti?

I have not been to Haiti since I was three, and that was a long time ago. English is actually my second language, because I was raised in Haiti by my wonderful grandmother for the first three years of my life after being born in New York. My mother goes every year though. Recently, she has taken my two younger sisters and they had a blast. I would love to go. I am totally going one day. I have to try some real legume.

Are you involved with any causes at the moment?

At the moment, I work with autistic and behaviorally challenged youth and adults about twice a week at a private institution. I have been doing so for several years now and I really love it. Some days are better than others but it feels good to be able to help people with their mental development no matter what capacity there cognitive function is.

What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned about self-esteem and confidence?

I am still learning every day. One of the biggest I have learned thus far is you can go after what you want and build it as you are on your journey. You do not need to necessarily have those traits to pursue your desires. It’s like waiting to drop ten more pounds at home before committing to going to the gym. It’s just unrealistic. After going through a traumatic event last year, it left me in ruins. I am still trying to build myself up from that and I just fake it ’til I make it or become it. Some days, my confidence is virtually nonexistent, but I don’t let that stop me from believing in myself.

Between modeling and acting, what do you find most enjoyable?

Acting is my life. All day. Everyday.

What goals do you have set for your set for the next couple of years?

I am going to work, work, work. I am building an empire. I want to spend my life doing what I love and I am ready to put in the work. I got my elbow grease ready. I never shy away from work and nothing scares me.

How do you care for yourself? We know that every girl has to make it her obligation to take good care of her body, but being an actress, it more than comes with the territory. Do you have a special regimen that you’ve put in place to keep yourself fit?

My mother has always been a great example to me in regards to health and physical fitness. I don’t remember a time when she was not doing aerobics or Tae Bo or Pilates. You name it. Because I have that drummed in my head; I have never been anything short of physically active. I have a very healthy diet, I also don’t eat past a certain time. The worst thing is just feeling sluggish. Energy is key. Depending on my mood I will do Pilates, kick boxing, running, walking, hiking, etc. Because I am slim I have felt no pressure from the industry. But I do want to emphasize that being fit has nothing to do with being skinny. One of my baby sisters is tall and thin; the other is short and curvy and battled obesity in her younger years. My tall and thin sister has never played sports or been physically active, but my short and curvy sister ran track and walks everywhere. Being fit is a state of being—not a state of seeing. You never know what is going on inside.

Do you have any counsel for girls out there who’d like to become actresses and models?

Stay true to yourself. It sounds so cheesy and cliché to say, but it is so true. Do not let anyone pressure you into doing something you do not want to do. Never compromise your integrity—that is really big with me. Do not lose yourself. Part of being successful is to be 100% you, because if you keep letting a little bit of yourself fade over time; then you will have very little of you left. That never makes for a strong foundation. I have accomplished so much in so little time because I hold true to this.