Bombers Magazine Archives

Year 1. No. 1 | Published between 2000 and 2001 - Haiti, Port-au-Prince. [Edition and English Translation from French]

Painting in Service of Music.

Serge Dor As Seen By Anthony Debrosse.

In art as in literature, new concepts have managed to amaze us. Today, it is the canvases themselves that express outward, while the artist who creates them remains in relative obscurity—simply to avoid conflicts between opponents or out of pure revenge against contemporary art.

To compile an inventory of his canvases, one had to understand the scale of his creative abilities. To get to the heart of the matter, I must tell the readers of Bombers Magazine that there is no painter quite like Serge Dor, given the skill with which he painted his canvases.

First, I noticed the musical habits that never left him. This enchanting muse seemed to be the touchstone of his favorite instrument. As one delved deeper into his art, one could notice that the musical scales played out the outline of a marvelous symphony that made the gods jealous of human immortality. This stroke of genius earned him the status of a great Haitian master who, until then, refused to step out of anonymity. These were likely his first experiences blending with the art of Picasso and Leonardo da Vinci.

When I asked him why there was this obsession with music in all his canvases, he replied that he was an extraordinary instrumentalist with a strong preference for the double bass. He had inherited it from his father, who enjoyed great success playing with Jazz des Jeunes. His career as a musician did not prevent him from pursuing his studies; he quickly understood that for a man to achieve perfection, he must be in perfect harmony with the universe, which turned his hopes into reality. His most secret desire was to create and transform matter, which, through his expertise, would find the unconditional radiance that would make him the master of his works. The entire expression of his inner self was conveyed through an ultimate message he wanted to pass down from one generation to the next.

Among his canvases, I noticed there were no shadow zones. On the contrary, the light became dense and polished—something familiar to him to dispel the darkness of ignorance. I remember the thoughts he shared with me regarding the transmutation of materials. It was then that I understood his mystical side was not to be overlooked—a mysticism found in selfless beings who are accustomed to a certain degree of tolerance without ever letting go of the object of their passion.

One gets the impression that there is a communion between him and his subjects. Tears of music seemed to flow abundantly. Through an infinite grace, one could feel through his lines and curves the wriggling of a living painting under the traits of symbolism, and a kind of intuition piercing through occult masses in bursts of light. If I could read the thoughts within all its elements, the colors seemed so varied, striking, and juxtaposed by unavoidable reflexes following their trajectories. All accumulated harmoniously into endless musical notes. Where the musician's dream ended, the fervor and passion of the painter were awakened within him.

"Everything dies, everything is lost, but everything is merely a perpetual beginning." He proved this through his canvases by continuing to certify himself.

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Kid Ali: The Extraterrestrial

Interview conducted by Géraldine Dérézil

Wesley Félix A.K.A. Kid Ali February 1st 1947 - 18 December 2015

Biography: 

My real name is Wesley Félix, descended from the lineage of General Enboux Félix and General Calix Boukan. I was born into a very prominent family in Port-au-Prince. Due to the curse of my bad luck, by age nine I found myself living on the streets trying to make a living. I became a barber without having trained under a master; it was my own instinct that guided me. Back then, we earned a meager pittance of a wage ranging from 25 to 50 cents.

"When someone is physically handsome, there can be a lot of love in their heart."

At the same time, I learned to love my fellow human beings. Very young, I began educating myself by taking classical courses at the Kalisterne Fouchard National School during the 1953–1954 school year under the direction of Mr. Pierre, at the end of President Paul E. Magloire's term. I left my first school to attend another national school, Herman Héraaux, where I completed my primary education.

I consider myself semi-self-taught. I suffered quite a few attacks because most of my peers were involved in dishonest acts. This was something I could not tolerate, yet I was not spared from their harassment because I refused their indecent propositions. I was relentlessly targeted. Had I not been guided by my sense of fairness, I might have succumbed to their influence.

Since I was born on February 1, 1947, that date has marked my existence, as the star of bad luck has never left me an inch. I suffered another assault in 1968—an assault that was followed by an attempted murder in 1974. That was when I was making my first venture into Jazz music in New York before returning home.

*Kid Ali claims here to be born on February 1st 1947. Other sources suggest he was born on February 2nd of the same year.

In 1985, I faced a foreign opponent, Altan Cameron, whom I knocked out; I had actually taught that guy how to box. But all my efforts were in vain—due to bad luck, the match was canceled. I was offered a lot of money to keep boxing, which I refused because I decided to end my career. To me, it was yet another stroke of bad luck; I could have emerged victorious from that match, and the public felt the same way. I couldn't go on, so I abandoned everything permanently without saying goodbye.

After this disappointment, I returned to New York to make my debut in Jazz music. On Sunday, August 6, 1985, I was accompanied by my fiancée on our way to a concert. Three criminals suddenly appeared, armed to the teeth, along with a girl who was part of the gang. One of them grabbed my fiancée, and another dealt a terrible blow to my skull. In reality, I fought back against our attackers.

When the case went to court, they tried to make it seem as though I were a raging madman. To enlighten you, one of those men was an active military officer. I was acquitted, as good triumphed once again. This allowed me to continue my duty toward humanity without harboring resentment toward anyone. I prayed to God, who answered my prayers, and I had the happiness of finding the ideal companion for my life.

I am someone who loves God. God is merciful, and I am as well. I want to be like Jesus by acting as he did. This does not stop me from having a clear objective: I want to put a little love into all hearts so people learn to discern good from evil. It is God, Jesus, and the Blessed Virgin Mary who should be worshipped, but certain humans deserve to be admired for their good deeds.

There was the agronomist Eustache Norman Baily, a Jamaican by birth who worked at O.D.V.A. This man helped me greatly financially during the time I practiced boxing. Unfortunately, a few years later, he passed away. Afterward, I fell in love with his daughter Gladys, who took a place in my heart. We now have three daughters. I believe the future lies ahead of us because I am a handsome man.

In 1988–1989, Gladys Baily managed the group. We gave a performance at the National Theatre and did a video festival in 1989, and another in 1990. This brought us a lot of trouble. I was on the verge of building the house where I currently live on Muler Avenue when a group of individuals attacked us with stones. One of the attackers was none other than my sister, Carolle Félix. This took place on Friday, August 17, and the case was referred to court on August 20.

That day, I was away, leaving my two children with the maid. When I returned home, no one was there. I witnessed a dismal scene: I saw the frail body of my baby lying lifeless in its cradle. How could such an act of vile barbarism be inflicted upon an innocent child?

The child had not yet been baptized, so I obtained authorization to bury it without undergoing other formal procedures. On the day of the attack, I was asked to withdraw the warrant, which I refused. I made the following statement: "My wife is carrying a baby; I cannot suspend the proceedings."

On Sunday, between 11 a.m. and noon, individuals burst into my home accompanied by members of my family, with dishonest intentions, believing I had hidden a treasure somewhere in the house. At that moment, I barely had time to get my wife to safety at a neighbor's place. I ran back and forth to stay alive as they began to stone me. I held my ground for hours against a band of fanatics. Without the presence of police officers, I could have lost my life.

I was then taken into custody. I was asked if I wanted to be released, and I answered no—I wanted to be brought before a court to account for my freedom. With the help of a few friends, I was able to send summonses to those who had their hands dipped in this affair.

That was everything I endured in my life: me, your servant Wesley Félix, known as Kid Ali.

Despite all these heartbreaking stories, I have become a formidable Dias Man at 52 years old. The name of the Dias is: "Afro Sambas," and I found an extraordinary Dias singer in the person of Lady Dadou. The other singers are: Lady Tina, Fafane, Sasa—they sing Dias / Racine-Pop. We have a bass, a piano, two bamboos, a drum kit, and six chorus singers.

*The term "dias" can alternately mean "Jazz" or "Band" in the musical sense.

Wesley [Kid Ali] Félix with his family

I have nothing left to add; the only thing I know is: you reap what you sow (literally: "he who sows the wind reaps the whirlwind").

Quote collected from Kid Ali:

"The man of the morning is not the man of the evening. There is what we call willpower and re-education."

Born on February 1st 1947, Wesley Félix, known as Kid Ali, left this world during the night between December 17th and 18th 2015. May he rest in peace!

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SOURCE

Bombers Magazine Year 1 No. 1 (2000-2001)

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More Reading

Le Noveliste Article by Enock Néré – December 30th 2015

Mis KO par la mort, Kid Ali sollicite une sépulture

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TO BE UPDATED