Country-prodigy-turned-pop-sensation Taylor Swift has had a head-turning year. In the past twelve months, the release and smash success of pop debut album 1989 sealed her transformation from endearing young country singer to the music industry's preeminent pop star. The media scrutiny that has stalked Ms. Swift since the early days of her career, however, has only escalated with the increase in fortunes. As befits an album with five million domestic copies sold, 1989 has also engendered at least that many opinions on its content, in particular drawing backlash for alleged racial insensitivity. Her most recent single, "Wildest Dreams," only a week old at press time, has already been savaged for a lack of diversity, with headlines such as NPR's "Taylor Swift is Dreaming of a Very White Africa" spearheading the assault. Ms. Swift's social consciousness may be a work in progress, as indicated both by the allegations of stereotyping and appropriation in her earlier "Shake It Off" video and by her recanted bout with Nicki Minaj over racism in the music industry. By and large, however, 1989 critics get it wrong on "Wildest Dreams."
This discussion is greatly aided by context. “Wildest Dreams” is primarily an emotional story of people. It depicts by some interpretations a convoluted love triangle, and by others a cut-and-dried affair, between the leads of an old Hollywood film on location in Africa. The film, a depiction of the beauty of Africa’s natural wonder and arguably a romantic impression of British colonialism, acts as a backdrop to a romance between two white stars of the 40’s-50’s film scene. The primary source of criticism seems to be the underrepresentation of people of color, given the African locale. The issue with this critique, however, is its disregard for the reasons behind this underrepresentation.
First and foremost, the video for “Wildest Dreams” is not about colonialism, and it is not even really about Africa. Africa is merely an environment; the players in producer Joseph Kahn’s video would be the same were the video taking place on the banks of the Yellow River, in the heart of the Amazon Rainforest, or in the natural barrenness of the Dakota Badlands. Diversity, then, would neither strengthen nor weaken the artistic intent of the single. It is natural to question, of course, why Africa was chosen if African people and culture were insignificant to the message; the answer lies not in insensitivity, but in cinematic history. In response to the media criticism of “Wildest Dreams,” Mr. Kahn explained that the inspiration for the cinematic draws upon the romance of classic stars such as Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. What romance would this be? None other than 1963’s Cleopatra, a peculiarly whitewashed film romanticizing an overtly white version of northern Africa.
Now we begin to understand the selection, do we not? “Wildest Dreams” is an allusion to a pair of very real people, stars in a very real film. (A love triangle also features prominently in the original Cleopatra, a coincidence I find unlikely to be accidental.) Moreover, it is the original film that is guilty of whitewashing, not Ms. Swift’s latest video. This is not an original story, but a retelling of one, and it includes that story with all the blemishes intact. Hollywood classics of the variety represented by Cleopatra or The African Queen owe a debt of long misrepresentation; indeed, Hollywood’s serial-offender status in this area has yet to be lifted. But as disingenuous as it is to defend old Hollywood, to label Ms. Swift’s release a “tribute” to white colonialism is equally so. It is, at most, an allusion to such tributes. “Wildest Dreams” makes no moral judgments, makes no statements. It is apolitical in a way that often only art can be. In fact, it is very possible that this is the real problem.
Discussions about misrepresentation and racial inequity are valuable, and they belong in conversations about historically brutalized regions such as the Africa found in “Wildest Dreams.” Mr. Kahn and Ms. Swift elected to have an entirely different discussion in their video, but because of Swift’s burgeoning superstardom, her every idea is subject to unanticipated consequences. If the purpose of the backlash to the video release was to refine Ms. Swift’s social consciousness, perhaps it has done so. The simple fact that “Wildest Dreams” is not a politically progressive statement, however, is not enough on its own to condemn it. We can and should use 1989 as a vehicle to discuss injustice; indeed, we are doing so now. Nonetheless, we should not sacrifice our ability to take Taylor Swift and her art at face value.
If the absence of nuanced social commentary leaves “Wildest Dreams” lacking in your eyes, then so be it. Then again, pop has never been at the forefront of social issues in music. Artists in other genres, like rap standouts Lupe Fiasco or Kendrick Lamar, much more frequently and effectively deal with such topics. 1989 tells an emotional story, not a political one. More to the point, the album tells it well. Listen, enjoy, and take 1989 and songs like “Wildest Dreams” for what they are. Don’t let Taylor Swift off the hook in all cases, or for that matter, any public figure. On this issue, though, she is innocent of the charges levied against her. We need not be critical of her to be critical of the subject she explores. In all honesty, she’s probably already shaken it off anyway.