Fallon A. Blair

I have always had a penchant for excellent popular art. I’ve known many smart critical people in my life who have gate-kept “real art” behind academia or esotericism, defining its limited appeal as essential to its quality. To me, accessibility in art is virtue; the more people who can be moved by something meaningful, the more successful it is in its intentions. No matter what she does, Beyoncé has always moved me to tears in her triumph as a creator. No one has grander ambitions, no one makes deeper connections, no one has the power and the intelligence to redefine, subvert, pay homage while at the same time carving a completely new path as Beyoncé does—all at the scale of one of the most popular and commercially successful acts of all time. What she achieves in Cowboy Carter is almost debilitatingly beautiful, and is only the latest in a run of releases that I don’t think any artist has ever matched. I love that I am just a tiny voice in the chorus of voices singing this praise for her today. I love that such a thoughtful, intelligent, compassionate artists gets to succeed as she does. It gives me hope that if people actually listen to the music, hear the message and receive its meaning, there can still be bridges built and fences mended, genres crossed and expectations surpassed, American heritage reclaimed, redistributed and redefined for everyone.