Process Writing

        When I started my first movie review, I found it impossibly too complicated to express in a mere four-hundred words. I chose to write on Les Miserables, and there was no lack of content to talk about. In my notes I started to write different aspects of the movie, and then a few notes about them.

        After I had about a dozen different thoughts on the page, I started to think about how they related to one another, and to the film as a whole. In one category I noticed how the movie was very slow, and in another I had written that the close-up shots lasted for ages. By having them both on the page I could make the judgment that the reason I thought the movie was slow was because of the boring cinematography. 

 

        As I began to discover other mediums to write on, it immediately became clear to me why critics usually specialize. I definitely thought that I would make more assertive and authoritative arguments in my review when it was on something I was familiar with.

        For example, when reviewing the Oscars, I felt like a had an inside perspective from my experience working in the TV production studio. We had talked in class about the momentous effort in producing a live awards show on television.

        By understanding (to some degree) how the show was being televised I thought I wrote a strong review of the event, not just the movies or celebrities. The conclusion I've come to is that it's best to sample a lot of different mediums, and when you find one you like to write on, write on it.

         At the same time, though, it's been my experience that it's much easier to write on a medium that I myself have produced, or at least been involved in. It gives you an understanding that allows for more critical judgments, and as a result, better reviews.

        Sometimes the biggest challenge of writing a review wasn't the writing. I often found myself clicking 'word count' and combing the page for redundancies or superfluousness. I would take out a word here, shorten a phrase there, and the whole process really made me appreciate the art of working with words.

        My entire life writing was always an act of more, never less. More pages, more lines, more paragraphs, but with in writing reviews it's an act of more creativity. With smaller boundaries a writer has to be more flexible and solve, not more, but different problems, than say a novelist. 

 

         I don't know if I agree with Wilde that critics are the greatest of artists, but he did convince me that criticism is an art. One that I have enjoyed greatly, I hope that someday someone will value my opinions enough to pay me for them, but until then I'm glad that I had the chance to take Arts Journalism.

The Submission Review (Revised)

The Submission of Whom?

          Amy Waldman places her debut novel in the ash-filled wake of the terrorist attacks of September 11^th, 2001. The towers have fallen, and a small jury has been tasked with choosing, from thousands of anonymous submissions, a memorial to honor the lives lost. Among the jury members is Claire Burwell, the only juror to have lost a family member, her husband, in the attack. 

 

          After much deliberation the winning design is a garden, symbolic of healing and rebirth, but the decision becomes controversial after it is made public that the designer, an American named Mohammed Kahn, is labeled a Muslim by a nosy reporter. Although he does not practice, and in his own words an Atheist, many of his countrymen are insulted that he would defile sacred ground with what they see as an “Islamic Garden.”

          Waldman, a contributor for both “The New York Times” and “The Atlantic,” has a powerful, punchy, prose that seamlessly incorporates symbolism from the real-world events of 9/11 into the lives of her characters. Her imaginary garden, with steel trees reformed from the wreckage of the Twin Towers becomes an afterthought to it's imaginary designer, the media, as well as the public.

          The process of building the memorial becomes a microcosm of American democracy. A thousand different interest groups fight with one another and among themselves until the whole process is compromised to the point that an innocent women loses her life. The masses, eager to use their collective voice, finds that it has none, and that America is not a black and white country.

         That's democracy, finding a single resolution among three-hundred million different opinions, and Waldman perhaps hints at the answer in the title. There isn't a protagonist, or an antagonist either, but rather just Americans, each trying to do what they think is right. The rub is that while everyone wants to memorialize the attack, nobody can agree on how to do it.

          Waldman incorporates an intricate use of architecture and design into her prose, eloquently describing the contours and lines of buildings. It fits the story of the memorial thematically as well as engaging the reader with vivid imagery. The memorial is brought to life by her words, and the reader can develop their own opinion on it. At least until the epilogue, set some time in the future, in which everything is neatly tied up, in an underwhelming and seemingly forced conclusion.

         People say that everything changed after 9/11, and they are right, to an extent. Waldman's novel is a portrait of the changing American landscape in the twenty-first century, in which globalization and capitalism has blurred the line between 'us' and 'them'. Despite a dissatisfying ending, Waldman's writing is strong enough to carry a reader through the 300 plus pages. As a work of fiction, “The Submission” is as much a memorial to 9/11 as Waldman's imaginary garden would have been.

The Submission of Whom?

         Amy Waldman places her debut novel in the ash-filled wake of the terrorist attacks on September 11^th, 2001. The towers have fallen, and now, a small jury has been tasked with choosing, from thousands of anonymous submissions, a memorial to honor the lives lost. Among the jury is Claire Burwell, the only juror to have lost a family member in the attack. 

 

         After much deliberation the winning design is a garden, symbolic of healing and rebirth, but the decision becomes a controversy after it is made public that the designer, an American named Mohammed Kahn, is labeled a Muslim. Although he is not practicing, and in his own words an Atheist, many of his countrymen are insulted that he would defile sacred ground with what they see as an “Islamic Garden”.

         Waldman, a contributor for both “The New York Times” and “The Atlantic”, has a powerful, punching, prose that seamlessly incorporates symbolism from the real-world events of 9/11 into the lives of her characters. Her imaginary garden, with steel trees made from the wreckage of the Twin Towers becomes an afterthought to it's imaginary designer, the media, as well as the public.

          The process of building the memorial becomes a microcosm of American democracy. A thousand different interest groups fight with each other and amidst themselves until the whole process is compromised to the point that an innocent women loses her life. The masses, eager to use it's collective voice, finds that it has none, and that America is not a black a white country.

         That's democracy, finding a single resolution amongst three-hundred million different opinions, and Waldman perhaps hints at the answer in the title. There isn't a protagonist, or an antagonist either, but rather just Americans, trying to do what they think is right. The rub is that while everyone wants to memorialize the attack, nobody can agree on how to do it. 

 

         People say that 'everything changed after 9/11', and they are right, to an extent. Waldman's novel is a portrait of the changing American landscape in the twenty-first century, in which globalization and capitalism has blurred the line between 'us' and 'them'. There aren't any happy endings to be found in the novel, a harrowing reminder of the reality of the events portrayed. As a work of fiction, “The Submission” is as much a testament to 9/11 as Waldman's imaginary garden would have been.

Final Project Idea

        For my final project I hope to focus on Tyler, the Creator, an American rapper and the alternative hip-hop collective he leads known as Odd Future. Tyler has many critics, who accuse him for portraying graphic violence and homophobia in his lyrics. The purpose of this profile piece is to address the lyrics and the people behind them.

            OF is not a typical hip-hop group, rather than rap about money, hoes, and rims, OFWGKTA's songs are a bizarre mix of grotesque imagery, close friendships and sex. In other words, they talk about exactly what every other teenager in America talks about. 

 

          What I find most impressive about OFWGKTA is how they are creating an entirely new aesthetic seemingly as they go. At the center of all this innovation is Tyler, who acts as the groups graphic designer, music video director, head of merchandising, and producer. Impressive considering until this year he couldn't get served at a bar.

          I want to rely heavily on the many interviews Tyler has given and make the argument that despite his dirty mouth and 'fuck it all' attitude, there is more to him than just shock value. While Drake might have coined the term 'yolo', Tyler lives it. He is young, rich, and famous, and doesn't ever want to grow up.

   

Oscars 2013

         The 2013 Academy Awards attracted some of the biggest and brightest stars of the film industry, and in doing so failed to deliver any big surprises. The three and a half our live television event, hosted by “Ted” creator Seth Macfarlane, went more or less to plan. Academy President Hawk Koch said in his speech that this years gathering was to “usher in the future of the movies”, and one can only hope that he's wrong.

        The Oscars are supposed to be a celebration of excellence within the film industry, but from from the red carpet to the end credits the event seemed to be more of the film industry glorifying itself. First-time host Macfarlane failed to make any friends, and made off color jokes and underhanded stabs at nearly everybody in the crowd, as well as those watching at home. 

 

         When so many entertainers gather in one room the result is usually not entertainment. It wasn't just movie stars either, Adele, Areosmith, Nora Jones, and the great Barbara Streisand were all on the bill. Even Mr. Macfarlane sang a song or two, though not without first creating a social media shit-storm with the low brow show tune “We Saw Your Boobs.” The best musical performance of the night was easily William Ross' orchestra, who played classic film scores, from “Jaws” to several iterations of the classic “Bond Theme”.

         The franchise celebrated it's fiftieth anniversary and won a modest two awards to mark the occasion. One for Best Original Song, the other for Best Sound Editing. This makes sense considering that Adele sounded much better in the movie than she did in her live performance.

The other tribute was to the best musicals of the last decade. Catherine Zeta-Jones gave an exhilarating rendition of “All That Jazz” that put the cast of Les Mis' performances of “Suddenly” and “One Day More” to shame.

         Director Ang Lee beat out favorite Stephen Spielberg for best director, and when it was all said and done “Life of Pi” received a total of four awards. Maybe Tarantino was right is declaring this year as the “year of the writers”, but the ceremonies indicated it as more of a year of the celebrities. The stars were the main attraction, not the films, and the Oscars aren't nearly as much fun watching from home, without the open bar.

"Progress" Report

        Last Friday, in the black box theatre of the Fine Arts Building, a sell out crowd was fortunate enough to witness the Senior Play Series production of “Progress”. Billed as an “environmental theatre” piece, written by Kalamazoo College's Imani Sims and Marissa Rossman, the play was more experimental than your typical college production.

        Rather than force the audience to be passive observers, environmental theatre encourages audience participation, to the point where the crowd becomes an important element of the production. Instead of sitting and watching, one must move about the set, broken in to three rooms, up close and personal with the actors and props. This intimate point of view creates a powerful connection between performer and audience.

       “Progress” is set in 1930's Germany, and chronicles the stories of a doctor, his patients, and the consequences of the forced sterilization programs that were in effect. In order to immerse attendees into the world of the play, Swastika's and propaganda posters adorned the walls. While performing all of the dialogue in German might have been a bit of a stretch, the close perspective made language almost irrelevant. From such a close perspective the plot becomes clear through body language and action alone.

       The biggest difference between a piece like “Progress” and a more traditional production is the decisions the audience must make to appreciate the play. In order to follow the story, one must change his perspective, but also account for the other patrons who are trying to do the same thing. The result is everyone seeing a different play, a woman might walk through the middle of a scene to pass through to the next room. Or a man might step on your toes as you jockey for a better viewing angle.

        “Progress” is an emotional and dramatic piece, brought to life in a youthful and exciting style. It is more the form than the script that makes this show such a refreshing theatre going experience. Hopefully this type of theatre gains traction and will be more commonplace in the future.

Evening With the Dudes, but then again, no

         Two roaring fireplaces at either end of the Hoben lounge made for a warm and inviting atmosphere where a great crowd gathered to spend an evening with the Kalamadudes. The audience chattered over hot chocolate and cookies waiting for the show to being. The Dudes donned their classiest attire and opened the performance with Peter Gabriel's “Book of Love”.

         Like the song says, the book of love is where music comes from, but some of it's really dumb. While A Capella might not be dumb, the appeal is not in the music. The Dudes do a good job of not taking themselves too seriously, which makes them easy to like. They are relaxed and laughing between songs, talking with the audience and amongst themselves.

         An Evening with the Dudes was part college Friday night part high class night out. The venue, the Hoben first floor lounge had poor acoustics but completely fit the theme on the bill. From the elegant arched windows to the elaborate matching trim of the floor and ceiling, one might have confused it with a room from Versailles.

          The Kalamadudes rendition of “Your Song” felt forced and emotional, as did the Bon Iver interlude, in the otherwise relaxed atmosphere. Again the theatrical elements of their performance was the saving grace of a painfully ordinary cover. The crowd, prompted by the Dudes, clapped in time, for the most part, with the music, contributing to the already lively atmosphere.

          Things got better when the Dudes had the opportunity to loosen up with Sugar Ray's “Every Morning”. They seemed much more relaxed and in their element dancing to 90's feel good hits than they did standing awkwardly parroting emotional ballads. The high energy songs compliment their quirky humor and light hearted attitude.

         When they sang the Coldplay hit “Yellow” the performance hit its climax. It was exactly the right song for them to sing. It fit the theme, and more importantly it fit the performers. It sounded natural, fluid and would have been the high note to end on.

         Unfortunately the Dudes chose to give an unrequested encore, which was far less impressive. Things had been getting progressively better until the end where the Dudes dropped the ball. For a night that was supposed to be filled with elegance it couldn’t have ended more awkwardly.