Dominique Morisseau was inspired by the 1990 essay "Mad at Miles,” In it, playwright Pearl Cleage wrestles with her deep appreciation for the genius of jazz master Miles Davis, one of the most influential figures in 20th-century jazz. He also had a self-admitted pattern of violence towards the women in his life, and Cleage’s essay wrestles with how to relate to art she loves and an artist who harmed people in his life and never expressed regret or remorse for his actions.
When Cleage listens to Davis’s music, she writes, “I was amazed. I loved it, listened to it, couldn’t get enough.” She spends time listening on many memorable evenings.
“But I didn’t know then that he was guilty of self-confessed violent crimes against women such that we ought to break his records, burn his tapes and scratch up his CDs until he acknowledges and apologizes and agrees to rethink his position on The Woman Question.”
Cleage wrestles with how to detach the art she loves from the person who made it. She asks, “Can we continue to celebrate the genius in the face of the monster?”
Morisseau dedicates Paradise Blue to Pearl Cleage, “Because of her love of black women in her work. Because of her love of Detroit. And because of her essay, “Mad at Miles”—which gave me the ammunition and bravery to deal with community accountability in and out of my art.”
In the wake of continued allegations of violence against women from musicians, actors, writers, and other artists, Pearl Cleage’s question—“Can we continue to celebrate the genius in the face of the monster?”— continues to resonate.
—Monica Flory and Adrien-Alice Hansel