In Defense of Rihanna
Though the Super Bowl halftime shows are all called by the same name, hopefully we can agree that they are by no means equal. Along with the Fourth of July, hot dogs and the sport of football itself, the Super Bowl is quintessential American fare, meaning the halftime shows often become embedded into the fabric of cultural and national analysis and conversation. In this way, it’s easy to label the performance highs – Michael Jackson, Prince, Beyoncé in 2013 and again with Bruno Mars three years later – as well as the flops – Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson, Black Eyed Peas and The Who.
But more than a month on, Rihanna’s halftime show performance, which took place on February 12, is still difficult to place in one camp. Unlike other iconic shows, the Barbadian singer chose a subversive approach: no special guests, no preview of new music, no surprise album announcement that fans had been anticipating online, no elaborate costume changes for either herself or her backup dancers, no outlandish visual spectacles. In fact, for the majority of the 13-minute-long performance, she stuck to either walking along the long football field-length stage or being lifted up and down a light-up platform. All while the rest of the weight was situated on the stellar audio mixing (and remixing) that spotlighted the hits we know and love while giving them a fresh tune-up, the lighting, and the dancer choreography. With a stripped-back version of Rihanna at the forefront, it’s undeniable that the background crew and dancers did their due diligence to still make it an appealing and compelling spectacle, and that can’t be underestimated in this conversation.
We also haven’t given enough credit to the physical feats Rihanna performed while pregnant. Yes, while pregnant. She was dancing (albeit minimally but only by general standards), singing and performing for thousands of people, not to mention being hoisted hundreds of feet in the air up and down by tenuously hung strings without a harness. Her pregnancy might not have been widely known at the time, but even I, who have never been pregnant before, felt it was obvious that there was a reason it felt a little more low energy than what we’ve come to know from her.
But in the weeks since, the conversational aftermath in the wake of the show has taught me that we do not give enough grace to pregnant people or to Black women, who are both tasked with bearing the weight of the world with little tenderness in return, who give and give but aren’t allowed to create boundaries or be selfish, lest they be perceived as “uppity.”
As someone who is both, Rihanna has been revered and critiqued for being distinctly herself during the performance: her laid back approach, the lack of changes in energy, the shout-out to her beauty brand Fenty Beauty (which generated the company $5.6 million in media impact value). This last point in particular is something I’ve noticed as being somewhat of a sore spot for fans, who interpreted it as Rihanna fully embracing the new career trajectory she’s carved out for herself since ANTI with her businesses and family life, along with a permanent retirement from music. As if she was made solely for our consumption and entertainment.
It’s a pattern familiar to listeners of SZA, whose fan base has demanded a new album every few months since CTRL, leaked snippets and criticized a song of hers so badly that she reluctantly, had to start the production over from scratch to “please everybody.” I’ve never seen the same exhausting behavior or critiques from fans of white artists, or even Black male artists, and Rihanna’s treatment by both her fanbase and the industry – including the weirdly charged backlash she faced for her Vogue cover featuring her partner A$AP Rocky and newborn son – is an indication of a larger problem plaguing Black women who make music today. We love them but the moment they “step out of line” for their own benefit or protection outside of an audience, the attention turns into something ugly.
Of course, Rihanna is not without her flaws. The fact remains that she accepted the Super Bowl halftime slot after years of boycotting out of solidarity with former NFL player Colin Kaepernick, who is still being blackballed in the sports world. Her businesses have also been involved in accusations of fraud, worker’s rights violations and deceptive marketing practices, which is unfortunately unsurprising for a billionaire of her stature.
But that doesn’t make it any less true that being told your fans are owed and entitled to your time, energy and labor is presumptuous and exhausting. Live performances take a lot of work, as do whole albums, so it’s no wonder why Rihanna has chosen to opt out of such avenues of creative expression, especially in an industry that benefits from Black creativity while simultaneously disrespecting and underestimating Black artists. It’s a thankless job being a creative with sales figures, deadlines and expectations to do better than what came before on your hands; at some point, the craft of the artform is lost to the whims of capitalism and productivity, as well as the fun.
For the past seven years, this has been Rihanna’s well-earned break from music to explore her other interests and invest in her ventures. She’s given us a one-of-a-kind catalog and I for one hope she returns to her roots only when she’s ready and willing, if ever. And if not? Well, at least we’ll always have Fenty Beauty.