Is Black Art Inherently Political? Davóne Tines Has Thoughts
The opera star discusses his dual roles in ‘Highways and Valleys’ and why centering Black humanity — not trauma — defines his work now
In an era marked by backsliding on human and civil rights, any artistic work that centers marginalized voices can feel inherently political simply by existing. Detroit Opera's “Highways and Valleys — Two American Love Stories” is one such work, uniting two composers often excluded from the operatic mainstream: William Grant Still, celebrated as the “dean of African American music,” and Jewish émigré Kurt Weill.
From their marginalized positions in American society, both artists drew inspiration from the heart of American folk traditions and carried that sound into opera. Composed in the 1940s, Still's “Highway 1, USA” celebrates Black culture through blues, jazz, spirituals and classical music, while Weill's "Down in the Valley" reflects immigrant experiences using American folk songs. Detroit Opera will bring these works to life Dec. 7, 11 and 13, giving audiences a rare opportunity to experience how marginalized voices have shaped the vibrancy of American music.
Celebrated bass-baritone Davóne Tines, an Interlochen Arts Camp alum heralded as an artist “changing what it means to be a classical singer” by The New Yorker, portrays Bob in “Highway 1,” a love story met with marital tension, and the wealthy businessman Thomas in “Down in the Valley,” an Appalachian-murder-love story. Tines acknowledges that this is a “very interesting time in terms of how quote-unquote ‘Black art’ is presented and received” given the “unique context historically, socially and socio-politically.” Yet, he’s quick to emphasize that the production itself is “not overtly political.”
“I actually just want to honor the reality of my Black existence, and not position that in the context of, or trying to be in any way in service of, whiteness, the white gaze and the white context,” he tells Pride Source. “This story in this time is in parallel with how I’ve been approaching my own personal creative work in that I’ve moved from the place of trying to make things that explain Black trauma and try to implore largely white audiences to actually embody entropy, which I think felt necessary at a certain time.”
Tines’s work has deepened the stage-to-audience connection on numerous occasions, both as performer and creator. Locally, he played the title role in Anthony Davis’s “X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X” while serving as artist-in-residence at Detroit Opera during the 2021–2022 season.
But Tines was exploring honesty in humanity long before that role. In 2018, his co-creation “The Black Clown,” based on Langston Hughes’s poem of the same name, premiered at the American Repertory Theater featuring an all-Black ensemble. The production expressed his thoughts about the history of Western America, illustrating a Black man’s resilience against America’s legacy of oppression. The New York Times wrote in its review of the show that “Davóne Tines embodies the evolving, divided soul of Black America.”
“Highways and Valleys” is an extension of that ethos, continuing Tines’s commitment to exploring the human experience through the lens of Black life. “The stakes of what happened aren't dealing with racial unrest or political unrest,” he says about “Highway 1.” “This is a story about a family and the complications that arise just within a family dynamic. And yes, in terms of class and resources, but less so about race. One thing that interests me about that is, and not to say that race isn't important, but to present the complexity, depth and even quotidian of a Black community, in the space of opera. To simply say, this exists on its own terms.”
“If you say my work is political or activistic, you actually flatten the more depthful potential of what it's trying to do in the world. You're making those problems non-human. You're making those problems non-personal.”
— Davóne Tines
“We don't have to engage in some sort of larger statement other than saying, ‘These are humans engaging human life,’” he adds, “and just simply doing that presents a depth of work that I’m very much personally drawn to at this time.”
To understand Tines’s own approach to acting and singing, it helps to see him as a teacher as much as a performer — one who asks his students to dig deeply into themselves. The Juilliard School and Harvard University graduate pushes them to consider who they are, how they feel and why they’re singing in the first place, believing that self-awareness brings truth to what happens onstage.
“All of a sudden, their technique lines up, because they're actually trying to communicate or say something,” he says. “They feel like they're talking to the real people in the audience — our bodies want to communicate, and the funny thing is, if you're intentional about that, all the technical shit and artistic acting shit will just let you do that, because we do it every day.”
For Tines, this kind of intentionality changes not just the performer’s experience, but the audience’s as well. It invites a genuine exchange — one rooted in empathy rather than expectation. This, he explains, is how audiences connect, human to human, without the filters or agendas that can distance them from a character’s truth.
“It’s been wonderful to see audiences also affected by that,” he says. “It's like, oh, they feel like a real person is in front of them saying something. And if you combine that with the amazing things people can do with their voice or their bodies, it just makes that honest human expression even more amplified and even more captivating, and as a conduit for a real exchange.”
Tines has wrestled with what he calls an “ongoing battle” over how his work is perceived — whether as political or activistic. Earlier this year, he told the publication Bozar, “If my work is interpreted politically, it’s because some people find my identity political.” When asked if he resists the “political” label because it could be a barrier between the work and the people it needs to reach most, he shrugs that off.
“If you say my work is political or activistic, you actually flatten the more depthful potential of what it's trying to do in the world. You're making those problems non-human. You're making those problems non-personal.”
“A lot of the work that I do, I'm interested in being connected to simply being myself, all the time, in every context,” he says. “It's authenticity. I try to be myself, whoever I am, and all the parts of that are hopefully a demonstrative invitation for other people to do the same. So it's not even necessarily about inserting my Black queer identity, but simply that all intersectionalities should be welcomed.”