On a stormy Saturday evening in downtown Evanston, my boyfriend's family and I braved the powerful downpours to dine at an upper-scale Italian restaurant called Gio, located at 1631 Chicago Ave.
Upon arrival, Gio was completely empty and quiet. I was a bit worried, considering it was early-evening on a Saturday night. Was this a bad choice? Is this a "no-no" place for Evanston locals? I then remembered the storm outside and assumed that was the reason.
My party let the staff know that we made a reservation, not that being seated would be a problem considering there was nobody dining, but the staff didn't see the humor in our asking. Soaking wet from the rain, we asked the courteous staff if they had a coat rack and they promptly took our jackets in back. Without delay, we were seated by our waiter Abraham. Abraham supplied me with humor throughout the night as he was obviously a new employee trying to get everything down correctly. The best part was at the beginning of our dining experience when he carefully approached my party, like an abused kitten, asking if we would like to hear the specials. Alright, maybe that's kind of sad.
We were served bread and a delicious side of sundried tomatoes, kalamata olives, and olive oil, similar to Tapenade, upon being seated. The menu was a typical Italian menu, comprised of hard to pronounce salads, pastas, pizzas, and meat dishes. The pizza menu was quite extensive, ranging from a margherita pizza (Clasico) to a wheat flatbread with sweet sausage, carmelized onions, and mozzerella cheese (the Bobi). Although we didn't order any drinks, their wine list was extensive for Evanston. After looking through the simple but exciting menu, I decided to split the Bobi and a Rigatoni pasta with sausage and parmesan cheese with my partner. For starters, we decided on two orders of the classic Italian appetizer Bruschetta.
The Bruschetta came out five minutes after we placed the order. Abraham asked if we would like pepper on the dish; I told him, "on just one, please." He took it that I wanted pepper on the whole dish, when I meant on just one of the three pieces. Thankfully, my partner did not mind.
The Bruschetta itself was outstanding, one of the best I have had. It was prepared exquisitely with fresh parmesan, tomatoes, basil, olive oil, and balsamic vinaigrette. Each ingredient complemented the next without being overbearing. The four in my party agreed that it was an excellent appetizer.
Our main courses were served at a reasonable thirty minutes after we ordered. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that the two dishes were nearly identical in different forms. Although tasty, the pasta seemed a bit dry with not enough sauce, while the pizza was a bit undercooked but proved to be a better, safer choice than the pasta. Truthfully, I would have rather had the free bread and Tapenade as an entree. That would have been even more satisfying. Nevertheless, Abraham checked on us frequently enough to let us know we were valued and in good hands.
Gio was a fine place to dine on a cold, stormy night. Abraham was attentive, the runners were punctual on water refills without being annoying and intrusive, and the food was good, if not a little below average. More parties came in to Gio during our meal until the restaurant was completely filled, reassuring me that the on-and-off storm was to blame for the lack of customers. Gio's table spacing and spot-on blend of traditional and contemporary Italian decor led for an intimate yet lounge-y atmostphere, with the nujazz musical selection complementing the somewhat celebratory, chill atmosphere.
I would certainly try Gio again by ordering something more exciting like the Seafood Ravioli and the Calamari. The experience may have been tainted by the stormy walk to the restaurant, which led to my clothes being completely soaked, a sure sign that the evening was going to be uncomfortable.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Final Review Paper Topic - Lily Allen "The Fear"
For my final review paper, I'm going to review but moreover analyze Lily Allen's first single off of her sophomore LP, It's Not Me, It's You. The song, called "The Fear", is a song that one would take for a Billboard 100, happy pop song on first listen. However, when looking at the lyrics more closely, Lily Allen gives an insider's look at how it feels to be a popular celebrity and what a mess our society is, without saying these things directly. In my opinion, it's a near-perfect pop song whose instrumentation and natural, laid-back style support Lily Allen's unsure and somewhat unstable lyrical content.
Sample lyrics: "I'll take my clothes off and it will be shameless/'Cause everyone knows that's how you get famous/I'll look at the sun and I'll look in the mirror/I'm on the right track, yeah I'm on to a winner."
Sample lyrics: "I'll take my clothes off and it will be shameless/'Cause everyone knows that's how you get famous/I'll look at the sun and I'll look in the mirror/I'm on the right track, yeah I'm on to a winner."
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Biggest Mouth Review
Biggest Mouth? More like Biggest Disaster.
Big Mouth at Columbia College Chicago is a monthly open-mic event series, often including spoken word, poetry, and performance artists. Biggest Mouth, held on Thursday, April 16, 2009, was the conclusion of the series where performers went head-to-head in a competition to win $1,000, many hours of studio time, and and a chance to play at Metro Chicago to compete in the Biggest Mouth Campus Clash, Columbia College Chicago vs. Depaul.
The event, thrown by the Student Programming Board and held at 1104 S. Wabash in the Conaway Center, started at 7pm. I arrived at the event at 8:30pm. Upon arrival, my friend was let in but I was stopped as they were over capacity. Minutes later, I was still waiting for entry while the two bouncers asked every single person if they were leaving for good. Meanwhile, other students were walking right in while the student workers were still holding me up. Obviously, there was some behind-the-scenes miscommunication and confusion, if not direct hatred for me.
From this point forward, it became apparent that Biggest Mouth was a poorly planned and, even more, improperly executed event. When I entered the main room, there was nobody on the stage except for students scrambling to fix microphones, set-up for the next performer, and keep the crowd entertained. From the time I arrived at 8:30 until 9:15, not one act appeared.
I found a few of my friends in the largely African-American audience and we walked over to the root-beer kegs. There was also a table set up for root-beer beer-pong. Cute, but nobody was playing. There were numerous display tables set up for advertising who-knows-what, but the people working the event seemed friendly enough.
More time passed, and still nobody took the stage. The Student Programming Board was pushing Red Bulls (one of the event's sponsors) onto the audience, trying to keep them pleased and energetic. Eventually, music started playing, albeit not live music, but some music nonetheless. And, of course, the first song happened to be the "Superman That Ho" song. Oh, dear, this was going to be a long night indeed. I almost lost it when a group of students started doing the dance, including one pregnant chick. Really, really pregnant, like about-to-pop pregnant. My friends and I couldn't control ourselves. That in itself made the night a winner.
The show never came together. One band performed without microphones; apparently, they had all been blown. A little strange, I thought. Even more upsetting was that thirty minutes later, they decided to come back on and sing the same terrible track again, now that one microphone was working. They asked the judges: "Would it be alright if we tried that again?" The judges' looks were priceless. Low in their seats, resting on their hands, half-asleep, they all nodded. I only hope they were being paid.
A couple bands were able to play despite major difficulties before, during, and after their performances, including one woman (Angele Anise) who was just fantastic. You could barely hear her, much less see her with the terrible arrangement of chairs in front of floor-to-ceiling beams, but what I caught was worthwhile. She performed a beautiful, soulful rendition of the Foo Fighters' "My Hero".
After her set, there was another half-hour of complications, per usual. I visited with some friends, all of whom were commenting on what a waste of time the event was. A crowd of unfriendly hotties tried to start a dance party without music, and a pair of out-of-touch comedians took the stage to get the crowd going. Unfortunately, what we heard wasn't very funny, more just awkward, and the microphones blew again. Too bad.
Another act I caught was called 305, comprised of three men who tap-danced and sang off-tune about a pretty girl. Terrible.
At 10:30, a half-hour earlier than planned, Biggest Mouth ended. I don't even know who won the competition. I asked numerous concert-goers. I asked the Student Programming Board, even Ayisha, the president of the club. Nobody knew. One young man told me "Matt and Tony" won, but there was no "Matt and Tony" on the schedule. Strange, and strangely hilarious.
All in all, a disastrous night was had by all. The three judges, all of whom appeared to be Columbia College Chicago students, looked more than displeased and severely bored with the night. For good reason, too: there was little energy and an overabundance of technical difficulties. It didn't help that the rude, unnecessarily aggressive security guards were pushing--literally, pushing--the audience out the doors, letting us know that "the event is now over." "Thank God" was all I could think.
Performers at Biggest Mouth included: Chozen Generation, Claire Stahlecker, Angele Anise, Demi Lobo, Marcas Harris, David Anthony, Matthew Gaydos, Andrew Hart, Erik Duemig, Joseph Duemig, and Stephen Mortensen, Thurston Magill, Daniel Schein, Lee Howard, Jonathan McReynolds, and Nico Rubio, B.I.G.H.E.A.D., Mechele Burtley, and Lyrically Sick.
Big Mouth at Columbia College Chicago is a monthly open-mic event series, often including spoken word, poetry, and performance artists. Biggest Mouth, held on Thursday, April 16, 2009, was the conclusion of the series where performers went head-to-head in a competition to win $1,000, many hours of studio time, and and a chance to play at Metro Chicago to compete in the Biggest Mouth Campus Clash, Columbia College Chicago vs. Depaul.
The event, thrown by the Student Programming Board and held at 1104 S. Wabash in the Conaway Center, started at 7pm. I arrived at the event at 8:30pm. Upon arrival, my friend was let in but I was stopped as they were over capacity. Minutes later, I was still waiting for entry while the two bouncers asked every single person if they were leaving for good. Meanwhile, other students were walking right in while the student workers were still holding me up. Obviously, there was some behind-the-scenes miscommunication and confusion, if not direct hatred for me.
From this point forward, it became apparent that Biggest Mouth was a poorly planned and, even more, improperly executed event. When I entered the main room, there was nobody on the stage except for students scrambling to fix microphones, set-up for the next performer, and keep the crowd entertained. From the time I arrived at 8:30 until 9:15, not one act appeared.
I found a few of my friends in the largely African-American audience and we walked over to the root-beer kegs. There was also a table set up for root-beer beer-pong. Cute, but nobody was playing. There were numerous display tables set up for advertising who-knows-what, but the people working the event seemed friendly enough.
More time passed, and still nobody took the stage. The Student Programming Board was pushing Red Bulls (one of the event's sponsors) onto the audience, trying to keep them pleased and energetic. Eventually, music started playing, albeit not live music, but some music nonetheless. And, of course, the first song happened to be the "Superman That Ho" song. Oh, dear, this was going to be a long night indeed. I almost lost it when a group of students started doing the dance, including one pregnant chick. Really, really pregnant, like about-to-pop pregnant. My friends and I couldn't control ourselves. That in itself made the night a winner.
The show never came together. One band performed without microphones; apparently, they had all been blown. A little strange, I thought. Even more upsetting was that thirty minutes later, they decided to come back on and sing the same terrible track again, now that one microphone was working. They asked the judges: "Would it be alright if we tried that again?" The judges' looks were priceless. Low in their seats, resting on their hands, half-asleep, they all nodded. I only hope they were being paid.
A couple bands were able to play despite major difficulties before, during, and after their performances, including one woman (Angele Anise) who was just fantastic. You could barely hear her, much less see her with the terrible arrangement of chairs in front of floor-to-ceiling beams, but what I caught was worthwhile. She performed a beautiful, soulful rendition of the Foo Fighters' "My Hero".
After her set, there was another half-hour of complications, per usual. I visited with some friends, all of whom were commenting on what a waste of time the event was. A crowd of unfriendly hotties tried to start a dance party without music, and a pair of out-of-touch comedians took the stage to get the crowd going. Unfortunately, what we heard wasn't very funny, more just awkward, and the microphones blew again. Too bad.
Another act I caught was called 305, comprised of three men who tap-danced and sang off-tune about a pretty girl. Terrible.
At 10:30, a half-hour earlier than planned, Biggest Mouth ended. I don't even know who won the competition. I asked numerous concert-goers. I asked the Student Programming Board, even Ayisha, the president of the club. Nobody knew. One young man told me "Matt and Tony" won, but there was no "Matt and Tony" on the schedule. Strange, and strangely hilarious.
All in all, a disastrous night was had by all. The three judges, all of whom appeared to be Columbia College Chicago students, looked more than displeased and severely bored with the night. For good reason, too: there was little energy and an overabundance of technical difficulties. It didn't help that the rude, unnecessarily aggressive security guards were pushing--literally, pushing--the audience out the doors, letting us know that "the event is now over." "Thank God" was all I could think.
Performers at Biggest Mouth included: Chozen Generation, Claire Stahlecker, Angele Anise, Demi Lobo, Marcas Harris, David Anthony, Matthew Gaydos, Andrew Hart, Erik Duemig, Joseph Duemig, and Stephen Mortensen, Thurston Magill, Daniel Schein, Lee Howard, Jonathan McReynolds, and Nico Rubio, B.I.G.H.E.A.D., Mechele Burtley, and Lyrically Sick.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Dave Chapelle's Block Party
***ENHANCED REVIEW***
On the outset, Dave Chappelle's Block Party appears to be quite a straightforward film. The premise: Dave Chappelle, the hilarious star of the now defunct Chappelle's Show, throws a monstrous block party in New York City with his favorite artists. An odd and simple sounding film, yes, but just as American Beauty taught us, look closer.
Directed by Michel Gondry, the visionary who directed Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and a handful of music videos from Bjork to The Rolling Stones to Kylie Minogue, Block Party takes a remarkable look at what it means to be an African-American in this day and how to come together as a people, especially through some of the most well known African-American artists today.
Inspired by the Mel Stuart documentary Wattstax, Block Party is the story of a 5,000+ block party held in the Clinton Hill area of Brooklyn on September 14, 2004, hosted by the reliably hilarious Dave Chappelle. This is no ordinary block party; this is top-secret, invite-only for those who have either been invited in-person by Chappelle himself or have made it on the list by signing up online. From the very start of Block Party, we see that this will be a seriously entertaining affair, with Chappelle yelling the many artists featured in the film through a loudspeaker in the opening credits. The artist's names shoot out of the loudspeaker in animated, funky lettering and wiggles onscreen (think The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air).
Gondry takes us on a journey through pre-block party preparations, most of it following Chappelle while he hands out tickets in his hometown of Yellow Springs, Ohio. We go back and forth through time, witnessing part of one artist's set the day of the block party and then moving back to pre-party mode. Oddly, but thankfully, we never hear about the involved planning process (e.g. permits, record label drama, etc.) that must surround the block party. Chappelle hands out golden tickets, which include transportation, lodging, food, and admission to his block party to the most unexpecting, including the woman at the gas station where he buys his cigarettes. In one strange segment of Block Party, Chappelle takes us on a much too long and confusing voyage through the well-known Angel House in Clinton Hill. There, we arguably meet one of the most bizarre couples ever caught onscreen.
This is not a film about David Chappelle. This is a documentary about people coming together, no matter where they are from or what their skin color is, to celebrate life, specifically the self-expression that music has the power of conveying. Funded by Chappelle's very own money, Block Party acknowledges the importance and power of community and hope, especially in areas where people aren't often given the opportunity to see their favorite artist or travel halfway across the country, much less cross the state line. In essence, this is a film about the average folk being an equal to the massive celebrity.
Buzzing with onscreen energy, Block Party has numerous touching moments, from Common's beautiful monologue at the start of the film to Lauryn Hill's engaging and effortless rendition of "Killing Me Softly". Most moving to me, however, was the story of Ohio's Central State University's marching band being given the opportunity to not only attend, but perform at Chappelle's block party. Words cannot describe the excitement that these kids felt when they were told by their bandleader that they had to cancel their previously scheduled performance for the weekend -- only to be told that they would be be attending Chappelle's block party instead. In one powerful scene, a bandmember was on a roof in Brooklyn commenting that he felt welcomed and at home in the city, that "people have (dread)locks like me!"
What's really interesting about Block Party is that it was shot before Chappelle's sudden departure from his acclaimed The Chappelle Show. His exit in May 2005 made a huge media impact because Chappelle, now a well-recognized star in his own right, had fled without notice to South Africa. In later interviews, Chappelle said that he was stressed out and felt that too many people were controlling his life. Block Party shows Chappelle in his most natural form -- making people laugh, keeping the ones close that he loves, and bringing people together. It seems that he didn't want to get carried away and as a safety precaution, dropped out of life as he knew it.
What's also interesting is that Block Party was shot just over a month after Chappelle signed a $50 million contract with Comedy Central. Was he trying to make people realize that he was still an accessible, "real" human being? Did he think that his reputation would get slaughtered if he didn't hold a free community celebration? He seems the type of person who would think himself a thief, like he doesn't deserve $50 million and wants people to know that he won't turn into the typical rags-to-riches, spoiled star. Throughout Block Party, Chappelle comes across as an equal because he wants to come across as an equal, something that most superstars admit they desire but then contradict themselves by performing lavish, selfish acts. Ultimately, though, would Chappelle have thrown this block party had he not signed this contract?
One has to wonder how Block Party would have turned out had it been taped post Hurricane Katrina considering New Orleans is predominantly African-American. We all remember Kanye West's live television appearance where he declared that "George Bush doesn't like black people." While I'm not sure if this is true, the Bush administration's response (or lack of response) to Hurricane Katrina was appalling and caused many people, specifically African-Americans, to lose faith in the government. The Bush administration left the people of New Orleans in the cold, especially the lower class African-Americans in the Lower Ninth Ward, because the administration was "opposed to a strong federal role in disaster relief and obsessed with terrorism." People had to work together like never before during Katrina because nobody, not even FEMA, had their backs. Would Block Party have taken a more political tone post-Katrina? Would it be a more somber affair?
Block Party works because it's not The Chappelle Show: The Movie, which I'm sure people were expecting. Instead, the camera plays the role of an outside observer; Chappelle doesn't seem to have any ulterior motives other than hosting a celebration of life, particularly African-American culture. Does the film succeed in its intent? Mostly. The film has a tendency of going on extraneous tangents and should have been twenty minutes shorter, but Block Party is a beautifully constructed meditation on Hip-Hop, Rap, the people who construct it and, perhaps most importantly, the people who listen to it. Block Party is about the human race, no matter what ethnicity, uniting in peace and taking action, a theme that seems so trite but is more relevant than ever in the world today, especially when we have instances where our government fails our people as they did in the instance of Hurricane Katrina.
Block Party features the talent of Mos Def, Jill Scott, Common, The Fugees, Kanye West, John Legend, Erykah Badu, The Roots, Talib Kweli, Dead Prez, and the Central State University Marching Band, among others.
On the outset, Dave Chappelle's Block Party appears to be quite a straightforward film. The premise: Dave Chappelle, the hilarious star of the now defunct Chappelle's Show, throws a monstrous block party in New York City with his favorite artists. An odd and simple sounding film, yes, but just as American Beauty taught us, look closer.
Directed by Michel Gondry, the visionary who directed Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and a handful of music videos from Bjork to The Rolling Stones to Kylie Minogue, Block Party takes a remarkable look at what it means to be an African-American in this day and how to come together as a people, especially through some of the most well known African-American artists today.
Inspired by the Mel Stuart documentary Wattstax, Block Party is the story of a 5,000+ block party held in the Clinton Hill area of Brooklyn on September 14, 2004, hosted by the reliably hilarious Dave Chappelle. This is no ordinary block party; this is top-secret, invite-only for those who have either been invited in-person by Chappelle himself or have made it on the list by signing up online. From the very start of Block Party, we see that this will be a seriously entertaining affair, with Chappelle yelling the many artists featured in the film through a loudspeaker in the opening credits. The artist's names shoot out of the loudspeaker in animated, funky lettering and wiggles onscreen (think The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air).
Gondry takes us on a journey through pre-block party preparations, most of it following Chappelle while he hands out tickets in his hometown of Yellow Springs, Ohio. We go back and forth through time, witnessing part of one artist's set the day of the block party and then moving back to pre-party mode. Oddly, but thankfully, we never hear about the involved planning process (e.g. permits, record label drama, etc.) that must surround the block party. Chappelle hands out golden tickets, which include transportation, lodging, food, and admission to his block party to the most unexpecting, including the woman at the gas station where he buys his cigarettes. In one strange segment of Block Party, Chappelle takes us on a much too long and confusing voyage through the well-known Angel House in Clinton Hill. There, we arguably meet one of the most bizarre couples ever caught onscreen.
This is not a film about David Chappelle. This is a documentary about people coming together, no matter where they are from or what their skin color is, to celebrate life, specifically the self-expression that music has the power of conveying. Funded by Chappelle's very own money, Block Party acknowledges the importance and power of community and hope, especially in areas where people aren't often given the opportunity to see their favorite artist or travel halfway across the country, much less cross the state line. In essence, this is a film about the average folk being an equal to the massive celebrity.
Buzzing with onscreen energy, Block Party has numerous touching moments, from Common's beautiful monologue at the start of the film to Lauryn Hill's engaging and effortless rendition of "Killing Me Softly". Most moving to me, however, was the story of Ohio's Central State University's marching band being given the opportunity to not only attend, but perform at Chappelle's block party. Words cannot describe the excitement that these kids felt when they were told by their bandleader that they had to cancel their previously scheduled performance for the weekend -- only to be told that they would be be attending Chappelle's block party instead. In one powerful scene, a bandmember was on a roof in Brooklyn commenting that he felt welcomed and at home in the city, that "people have (dread)locks like me!"
What's really interesting about Block Party is that it was shot before Chappelle's sudden departure from his acclaimed The Chappelle Show. His exit in May 2005 made a huge media impact because Chappelle, now a well-recognized star in his own right, had fled without notice to South Africa. In later interviews, Chappelle said that he was stressed out and felt that too many people were controlling his life. Block Party shows Chappelle in his most natural form -- making people laugh, keeping the ones close that he loves, and bringing people together. It seems that he didn't want to get carried away and as a safety precaution, dropped out of life as he knew it.
What's also interesting is that Block Party was shot just over a month after Chappelle signed a $50 million contract with Comedy Central. Was he trying to make people realize that he was still an accessible, "real" human being? Did he think that his reputation would get slaughtered if he didn't hold a free community celebration? He seems the type of person who would think himself a thief, like he doesn't deserve $50 million and wants people to know that he won't turn into the typical rags-to-riches, spoiled star. Throughout Block Party, Chappelle comes across as an equal because he wants to come across as an equal, something that most superstars admit they desire but then contradict themselves by performing lavish, selfish acts. Ultimately, though, would Chappelle have thrown this block party had he not signed this contract?
One has to wonder how Block Party would have turned out had it been taped post Hurricane Katrina considering New Orleans is predominantly African-American. We all remember Kanye West's live television appearance where he declared that "George Bush doesn't like black people." While I'm not sure if this is true, the Bush administration's response (or lack of response) to Hurricane Katrina was appalling and caused many people, specifically African-Americans, to lose faith in the government. The Bush administration left the people of New Orleans in the cold, especially the lower class African-Americans in the Lower Ninth Ward, because the administration was "opposed to a strong federal role in disaster relief and obsessed with terrorism." People had to work together like never before during Katrina because nobody, not even FEMA, had their backs. Would Block Party have taken a more political tone post-Katrina? Would it be a more somber affair?
Block Party works because it's not The Chappelle Show: The Movie, which I'm sure people were expecting. Instead, the camera plays the role of an outside observer; Chappelle doesn't seem to have any ulterior motives other than hosting a celebration of life, particularly African-American culture. Does the film succeed in its intent? Mostly. The film has a tendency of going on extraneous tangents and should have been twenty minutes shorter, but Block Party is a beautifully constructed meditation on Hip-Hop, Rap, the people who construct it and, perhaps most importantly, the people who listen to it. Block Party is about the human race, no matter what ethnicity, uniting in peace and taking action, a theme that seems so trite but is more relevant than ever in the world today, especially when we have instances where our government fails our people as they did in the instance of Hurricane Katrina.
Block Party features the talent of Mos Def, Jill Scott, Common, The Fugees, Kanye West, John Legend, Erykah Badu, The Roots, Talib Kweli, Dead Prez, and the Central State University Marching Band, among others.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Revision Summary
The most obvious revision that I made to my Arrested Development review was the shortening of the episode summaries. Kristen, Robert, and Aubree all suggested that I condense the episode summaries to further engage the audience. I think the long summaries, especially the unnecessary details, tell the reader too much.
Karissa suggested that I clear up the paragraph where I discuss the minute-long "on next week's..." segment at the end of the two episodes. I made the concept more understandable and shortened the paragraph to clear up any confusion.
I made a few nit-picky errors in my original post, such as having "spoon-fed" twice in the same paragraph like Noelle pointed out, so I changed those. I took out some commas because I always go comma overboard. Also, I rearranged some sentences to make them more clear.
Otherwise, the general consensus seemed to be that my original post was not too shabby so I didn't need to start from scratch, which was a relief.
Karissa suggested that I clear up the paragraph where I discuss the minute-long "on next week's..." segment at the end of the two episodes. I made the concept more understandable and shortened the paragraph to clear up any confusion.
I made a few nit-picky errors in my original post, such as having "spoon-fed" twice in the same paragraph like Noelle pointed out, so I changed those. I took out some commas because I always go comma overboard. Also, I rearranged some sentences to make them more clear.
Otherwise, the general consensus seemed to be that my original post was not too shabby so I didn't need to start from scratch, which was a relief.
"Arrested Development" Revision
We're living in an age where lazily-conceived and improperly executed television shows are the norm. Many shows start fantastically and then as the plot gets more and more complicated the show ultimately goes downhill (see Lost.) It almost becomes a chore to have to keep up with these idiotic shows that have to bring on guest stars and focus on their musical selections to keep audiences watching.
I am confident that this will not be the case with Arrested Development.
Arrested Development is that rare television show that will get noticed by some but will most likely fly over most people's heads. The show is, in short, a "riches to rags" story of a severely dysfunctional family. It's too strange and random to be mainstream, but too hilarious to take cult status. Arrested Development doesn't have a laugh track like most sitcoms and it doesn't look like it involves any more than a few sets and a superb cast. The show, unlike other sitcoms these days, relies on the talent of the actors and the extremely well-written script.
The most noteworthy aspect of Arrested Development is that the audience is just as much looking forward to the next funny line as they are to the plot.
Most of all, Arrested Development is fun to watch. It's a hilarious comment on American society today--we all want to have lots of money, we just don't want to work.
The first episode, "Pilot", begins at a boat party for the retirement of George Sr. Bluth, neatly played by Jeffrey Tambor. His son, Michael Bluth, played by Jason Bateman, has been anticipating taking over his father's company. To Michael's dismay, George Sr. announces that he is making his dramatic wife, Lucille, hilariously played by Jessica Walter, the new CEO. Much to everyone's surprise, the SEC takes control of the ship and arrests George Sr. for fraud, leaving the family in financial trouble. The SEC puts a halt on the company expense account, which mortifies the Bluth's. Michael decides to take a job in Arizona to separate himself from his lazy family, but they all end up begging for his help. Eventually, Michael decides to stick around and help everyone for his awkward son George Michael, played by Michael Cera, who wants to stay close to the family in California.
The following episode, "Top Banana", starts with the local news channel reporting that the Bluth Banana Stand has gone up in flames. The episode then takes us back a week earlier where George Sr. tries to make Michael feel better by explaining that there is "always money in the banana stand." Michael appoints his niece Maeby, played by Alia Shawkat, to work at the banana stand under George Michael. Maeby turns into a nuisance, taking money from the register and throwing out bananas, assuming that the inventory will match their profits, (but later learning that this is not exactly the case.) Michael asks his mother Lucille for the company flight records, and she says that they are in a storage unit. Alas, a storage unit goes up in flames and Michael encourages George Michael, who feels that he has royally screwed up the banana stand business , to set it on fire. Michael visits his father in jail and proudly announces that he set the stand on fire, but this pride turns to disgust when George Sr. screams that there was $250,000 implanted in the walls of the banana stand hence his signature line, "there's always money in the banana stand."
Never taking itself too seriously, Arrested Development contains a minute-long segment ("On the next Arrested Development...") at the end of each episode that portrays events that do not appear in the subsequent episodes as the show had not been picked up at the time of production. It later became a staple of the show, used to resolve an episode's storylines.
Arrested Development is a bit confusing at first. Although there are many characters, I had trouble understanding what the relationships were. It's simple: this is an extended family going through crisis--rather, this is Michael going through crisis while his family members wait for him to get the business going again so they can be spoon-fed money without working.
The show is presented in documentary-like style, containing few cuts and appearing to be done in just a couple takes.
Arrested Development is good. Really good. Unfortunately, this probably means that the show will not last long as the general public goes for safe, cliched material. Nevertheless, in a society filled with stupid television shows, Arrested Development is gold.
I am confident that this will not be the case with Arrested Development.
Arrested Development is that rare television show that will get noticed by some but will most likely fly over most people's heads. The show is, in short, a "riches to rags" story of a severely dysfunctional family. It's too strange and random to be mainstream, but too hilarious to take cult status. Arrested Development doesn't have a laugh track like most sitcoms and it doesn't look like it involves any more than a few sets and a superb cast. The show, unlike other sitcoms these days, relies on the talent of the actors and the extremely well-written script.
The most noteworthy aspect of Arrested Development is that the audience is just as much looking forward to the next funny line as they are to the plot.
Most of all, Arrested Development is fun to watch. It's a hilarious comment on American society today--we all want to have lots of money, we just don't want to work.
The first episode, "Pilot", begins at a boat party for the retirement of George Sr. Bluth, neatly played by Jeffrey Tambor. His son, Michael Bluth, played by Jason Bateman, has been anticipating taking over his father's company. To Michael's dismay, George Sr. announces that he is making his dramatic wife, Lucille, hilariously played by Jessica Walter, the new CEO. Much to everyone's surprise, the SEC takes control of the ship and arrests George Sr. for fraud, leaving the family in financial trouble. The SEC puts a halt on the company expense account, which mortifies the Bluth's. Michael decides to take a job in Arizona to separate himself from his lazy family, but they all end up begging for his help. Eventually, Michael decides to stick around and help everyone for his awkward son George Michael, played by Michael Cera, who wants to stay close to the family in California.
The following episode, "Top Banana", starts with the local news channel reporting that the Bluth Banana Stand has gone up in flames. The episode then takes us back a week earlier where George Sr. tries to make Michael feel better by explaining that there is "always money in the banana stand." Michael appoints his niece Maeby, played by Alia Shawkat, to work at the banana stand under George Michael. Maeby turns into a nuisance, taking money from the register and throwing out bananas, assuming that the inventory will match their profits, (but later learning that this is not exactly the case.) Michael asks his mother Lucille for the company flight records, and she says that they are in a storage unit. Alas, a storage unit goes up in flames and Michael encourages George Michael, who feels that he has royally screwed up the banana stand business , to set it on fire. Michael visits his father in jail and proudly announces that he set the stand on fire, but this pride turns to disgust when George Sr. screams that there was $250,000 implanted in the walls of the banana stand hence his signature line, "there's always money in the banana stand."
Never taking itself too seriously, Arrested Development contains a minute-long segment ("On the next Arrested Development...") at the end of each episode that portrays events that do not appear in the subsequent episodes as the show had not been picked up at the time of production. It later became a staple of the show, used to resolve an episode's storylines.
Arrested Development is a bit confusing at first. Although there are many characters, I had trouble understanding what the relationships were. It's simple: this is an extended family going through crisis--rather, this is Michael going through crisis while his family members wait for him to get the business going again so they can be spoon-fed money without working.
The show is presented in documentary-like style, containing few cuts and appearing to be done in just a couple takes.
Arrested Development is good. Really good. Unfortunately, this probably means that the show will not last long as the general public goes for safe, cliched material. Nevertheless, in a society filled with stupid television shows, Arrested Development is gold.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
"Arrested Development"
We're living in an age where lazily-conceived and improperly executed television shows are the norm. Many shows start fantastically and then as the plot gets more and more complicated, the show ultimately goes downhill (see Lost.) It almost becomes a chore to have to keep up with these idiotic shows that have to bring on guest stars and focus on their musical selections to keep audiences watching.
I am confident that this will not be the case with Arrested Development.
Arrested Development is that rare television show that will get noticed by some but will most likely fly over most people's heads. The show is, in short, a "riches to rags" story of a severely dysfunctional family. It's too strange and random to be mainstream, but too hilarious to take cult status. Arrested Development doesn't have a laugh track like most sitcoms and it doesn't look like it involves any more than a few sets and a superb cast. The show, unlike other sitcoms these days, relies on the talent of the actors and their interactions with each other and the extremely well-written script. Most of all, Arrested Development is fun to watch. It's hilarious as it's a comment on American society today--we all want to have lots of money, we just don't want to work. The most noteworthy aspect of Arrested Development is that the audience is just as much looking forward to the next funny line as they are to the plot.
The first episode, "Pilot", begins at a boat party for the retirement of George Sr. Bluth, neatly played by Jeffrey Tambor. His son, Michael Bluth, played by Jason Bateman, has been anticipating taking over his father's company. To Michael's dismay, George Sr. announces that he is making his dramatic wife, Lucille, hilariously played by Jessica Walter, the new CEO. Much to everyone's surprise, the SEC soon takes control of the ship and arrest George Sr. for fraud, leaving the family in trouble as he is the one who brings in the money. The SEC announces that they are putting a halt on the company expense account, which frightens the family as they have been living off of George Sr. Michael decides to take a job in Arizona to separate himself from his lazy family, but they all end up begging for his help. Eventually, Michael decides to stick around and help everyone for his awkward son George Michael, played by Michael Cera, who wants to stay close to the family in California. Michael decides to try to save the endangered family business.
The following episode, "Top Banana", starts with the local news channel reporting that the Bluth Banana Stand has gone up in flames. The episode then takes us back a week earlier where George Sr. tries to make Michael feel better by explaining that there is "always money in the banana stand." George Michael asks for more hours at the banana stand and, in turn, Michael makes him "Mr. Manager", a running joke throughout the 22-minute long episode. Michael, fed up with his unemployed family, appoints his niece Maeby, played by Alia Shawkat, to work at the banana stand under George Michael. Maeby turns into a nuisance, taking money from the register and throwing out bananas, assuming that the inventory will match their profits, (but later learning that this is not exactly the case.) Michael's sister Lindsay, played by the beautiful Portia de Rossi, insists that she is supporting her husband Tobias, played by the obnoxious David Cross, even though he is unemployed. Tobias looks for work as an actor. Michael asks his mother Lucille for the company flight records, and she insists that they are in a storage unit. Alas, a storage unit goes up in flames, Michael's other brother G.O.B., played by the forgettable Will Arnett, fails at his simple job of delivering a letter and Michael, wanting to gain control of his life, encourages George Michael, who feels that he has royally screwed up the banana stand business by letting Maeby screw things up, to set the family banana stand on fire. Michael then visits his father in jail and proudly announces that he set the stand on fire--but this pride turns to disgust when George Sr. screams that there was $250,000 implanted in the walls of the banana stand, hence his signature line (receited three times in this episode) of "there's always money in the banana stand."
Never taking itself too seriously, Arrested Development contains a minute-long segment at the end of each episode with the highlights from the following week's episode, something that most television shows do these days. However, what we see in this segment is not what we will see the following week as the show had not been picked up at the time of production. It later became a staple of the show, used to resolve an episode's storylines.
Arrested Development is a bit confusing at first. Although there are many characters, I had trouble understanding what the relationships were. It's simple: this is an extended family going through crisis--or, this is Michael going through crisis with the other family members hoping Michael can get the business going again so they can be spoon-fed money without working.
The show is presented in documentary-like style, containing few cuts and appearing to be done in just a couple takes.
Arrested Development is good. Really good. Unfortunately, this probably means that the show will not last long as the general public goes for spoon-fed material. Nevertheless, in a society filled with stupid television shows, Arrested Development is gold.
I am confident that this will not be the case with Arrested Development.
Arrested Development is that rare television show that will get noticed by some but will most likely fly over most people's heads. The show is, in short, a "riches to rags" story of a severely dysfunctional family. It's too strange and random to be mainstream, but too hilarious to take cult status. Arrested Development doesn't have a laugh track like most sitcoms and it doesn't look like it involves any more than a few sets and a superb cast. The show, unlike other sitcoms these days, relies on the talent of the actors and their interactions with each other and the extremely well-written script. Most of all, Arrested Development is fun to watch. It's hilarious as it's a comment on American society today--we all want to have lots of money, we just don't want to work. The most noteworthy aspect of Arrested Development is that the audience is just as much looking forward to the next funny line as they are to the plot.
The first episode, "Pilot", begins at a boat party for the retirement of George Sr. Bluth, neatly played by Jeffrey Tambor. His son, Michael Bluth, played by Jason Bateman, has been anticipating taking over his father's company. To Michael's dismay, George Sr. announces that he is making his dramatic wife, Lucille, hilariously played by Jessica Walter, the new CEO. Much to everyone's surprise, the SEC soon takes control of the ship and arrest George Sr. for fraud, leaving the family in trouble as he is the one who brings in the money. The SEC announces that they are putting a halt on the company expense account, which frightens the family as they have been living off of George Sr. Michael decides to take a job in Arizona to separate himself from his lazy family, but they all end up begging for his help. Eventually, Michael decides to stick around and help everyone for his awkward son George Michael, played by Michael Cera, who wants to stay close to the family in California. Michael decides to try to save the endangered family business.
The following episode, "Top Banana", starts with the local news channel reporting that the Bluth Banana Stand has gone up in flames. The episode then takes us back a week earlier where George Sr. tries to make Michael feel better by explaining that there is "always money in the banana stand." George Michael asks for more hours at the banana stand and, in turn, Michael makes him "Mr. Manager", a running joke throughout the 22-minute long episode. Michael, fed up with his unemployed family, appoints his niece Maeby, played by Alia Shawkat, to work at the banana stand under George Michael. Maeby turns into a nuisance, taking money from the register and throwing out bananas, assuming that the inventory will match their profits, (but later learning that this is not exactly the case.) Michael's sister Lindsay, played by the beautiful Portia de Rossi, insists that she is supporting her husband Tobias, played by the obnoxious David Cross, even though he is unemployed. Tobias looks for work as an actor. Michael asks his mother Lucille for the company flight records, and she insists that they are in a storage unit. Alas, a storage unit goes up in flames, Michael's other brother G.O.B., played by the forgettable Will Arnett, fails at his simple job of delivering a letter and Michael, wanting to gain control of his life, encourages George Michael, who feels that he has royally screwed up the banana stand business by letting Maeby screw things up, to set the family banana stand on fire. Michael then visits his father in jail and proudly announces that he set the stand on fire--but this pride turns to disgust when George Sr. screams that there was $250,000 implanted in the walls of the banana stand, hence his signature line (receited three times in this episode) of "there's always money in the banana stand."
Never taking itself too seriously, Arrested Development contains a minute-long segment at the end of each episode with the highlights from the following week's episode, something that most television shows do these days. However, what we see in this segment is not what we will see the following week as the show had not been picked up at the time of production. It later became a staple of the show, used to resolve an episode's storylines.
Arrested Development is a bit confusing at first. Although there are many characters, I had trouble understanding what the relationships were. It's simple: this is an extended family going through crisis--or, this is Michael going through crisis with the other family members hoping Michael can get the business going again so they can be spoon-fed money without working.
The show is presented in documentary-like style, containing few cuts and appearing to be done in just a couple takes.
Arrested Development is good. Really good. Unfortunately, this probably means that the show will not last long as the general public goes for spoon-fed material. Nevertheless, in a society filled with stupid television shows, Arrested Development is gold.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Lively ‘Lykke Li’ Rocks, Lyke, a Sold Out Show
On an unusually warm Friday night in February, I was lucky enough to see the multi-talented 22-year old Swedish songstress Lykke Li (pronounced Looh-kuh Lee) perform an all-ages show at the 1100-capacity Metro in Chicago. Opening for Lykke Li was the critically acclaimed folk duo Wildbirds and Peacedrums, whom I unfortunately missed. The sold-out show was filled with a diverse audience, from the bro-iest of bros to the highest of hippies. Li went from a gentle hummingbird in opening track “Dance, Dance, Dance” to a a fierce headbanger in songs like “Complaint Department” and especially in a hilarious rendition of Lil’ Wayne’s “A Milli”. Li proved to be a fantastic, personable, and energetic live performer, but it seemed that the audience didn’t know what to do with themselves for much of the time. The setlist was a bit scattered with Li performing one upbeat song followed by a slower song, and the process repeated itself over and over.
Lykke Li (full name Li Lykke Timotej Zachrisson) released her first LP, Youth Novels, in 2008. Produced by Björn Yttling of Peter Bjorn and John, Youth Novels received high praise from indie publication Pitchfork (7.8/10) and mainstream music publication Rolling Stone (3.5/5). The latter voted Li’s song “I’m Good, I’m Gone” the 24th best song of 2008. Her music is original, indie-dance pop with influences ranging from early Madonna to A Tribe Called Quest. Youth Novels contains the singles “Little Bit”, “I’m Good, I’m Gone”, “Breaking It Up”, which Li performed on Conan O’Brien back in August of 2008, and my personal favorite, “Dance, Dance, Dance”.
The set design of Lykke Li’s performance at Metro was simple yet effective. It was a very black-and-white affair, down to what Li and her bandmates were wearing. A large black banner with Lykke Li’s name spelled out in white lettering rested behind the band. Li was positioned center stage, often moving her body but rarely walking stage right or stage left. The sound was decent but could have been turned down a bit.
Lykke Li knows how to get a crowd riled up. Her on-stage persona is lively and engaging. With this said, her setlist was poorly constructed. Writing a successful setlist is a complicated process, especially for Li as her music is in that middle ground of not entirely dance-y, but not exactly chill either. Many people were bobbing their heads, some people were all-out dancing, but most people were standing still and didn’t know what to do. And once they started dancing to an upbeat song, Li would follow with a much softer track. It went like this throughout the show; at one point my always-outgoing and confident friend yelling at me, “I don’t know what to do with myself!” At the close of Li’s set, I heard many upset fans complaining how they had spent upwards of thirty dollars for their tickets and Li was on stage for no more than fifty minutes. A set of under an hour is quite short for a headliner; however, Li is a new artist and doesn’t have as much material to cover as, say, Cat Power or Mirah.
If I were Lykke Li, I would have made some changes to the show at Metro. I would have played at least two upbeat songs consecutively to stimulate the crowd. I would have built the excitement level leading up to Li's four singles with more dramatic instrumentation and I would have used the megaphone more frequently (as she uses on the album version of “I’m Good, I’m Gone” and “Breaking It Up”). However, I still enjoyed the show because Li proved to be an engaging, passionate, talented, and above all, unique live performer.
Lykke Li (full name Li Lykke Timotej Zachrisson) released her first LP, Youth Novels, in 2008. Produced by Björn Yttling of Peter Bjorn and John, Youth Novels received high praise from indie publication Pitchfork (7.8/10) and mainstream music publication Rolling Stone (3.5/5). The latter voted Li’s song “I’m Good, I’m Gone” the 24th best song of 2008. Her music is original, indie-dance pop with influences ranging from early Madonna to A Tribe Called Quest. Youth Novels contains the singles “Little Bit”, “I’m Good, I’m Gone”, “Breaking It Up”, which Li performed on Conan O’Brien back in August of 2008, and my personal favorite, “Dance, Dance, Dance”.
The set design of Lykke Li’s performance at Metro was simple yet effective. It was a very black-and-white affair, down to what Li and her bandmates were wearing. A large black banner with Lykke Li’s name spelled out in white lettering rested behind the band. Li was positioned center stage, often moving her body but rarely walking stage right or stage left. The sound was decent but could have been turned down a bit.
Lykke Li knows how to get a crowd riled up. Her on-stage persona is lively and engaging. With this said, her setlist was poorly constructed. Writing a successful setlist is a complicated process, especially for Li as her music is in that middle ground of not entirely dance-y, but not exactly chill either. Many people were bobbing their heads, some people were all-out dancing, but most people were standing still and didn’t know what to do. And once they started dancing to an upbeat song, Li would follow with a much softer track. It went like this throughout the show; at one point my always-outgoing and confident friend yelling at me, “I don’t know what to do with myself!” At the close of Li’s set, I heard many upset fans complaining how they had spent upwards of thirty dollars for their tickets and Li was on stage for no more than fifty minutes. A set of under an hour is quite short for a headliner; however, Li is a new artist and doesn’t have as much material to cover as, say, Cat Power or Mirah.
If I were Lykke Li, I would have made some changes to the show at Metro. I would have played at least two upbeat songs consecutively to stimulate the crowd. I would have built the excitement level leading up to Li's four singles with more dramatic instrumentation and I would have used the megaphone more frequently (as she uses on the album version of “I’m Good, I’m Gone” and “Breaking It Up”). However, I still enjoyed the show because Li proved to be an engaging, passionate, talented, and above all, unique live performer.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Larry Gallagher, "Can I Go Now?"
Larry Gallagher is one cool fella.
Born in the 60s, Gallagher has lead quite an unconvetional life. He has been a musician throughout his life, while also being an ongoing contributor to Details, Esquire, and the New York Times Magazine on subjects from smoking psychedelic toad sweat to yoga in India. In '96, Gallagher decided he needed a life change: he joined a Zen Buddhist monastery on a mountaintop just outside of L.A. for three years, living as a monk with none other than Leonard Cohen. In Gallagher's words, all he got out of these years was a girlfriend and the song "I'm Deep", contained on Can I Go Now? These days, Gallagher seems to have settled down in San Francisco and has released two albums: An Endless Chain of Accidents and his latest, Can I Go Now?
Sometimes similar sounding to Belle & Sebastian and E of Eels, one thing is certain: Larry Gallagher is a storyteller. Whether discussing his deepness on tracks like "I'm Deep" or his desire to have a conversation with Shakespeare on "Me and William Shakespeare", Gallagher has an ability that other indie-rock musicians aren't able to convey so clearly in their art: he can be satirical on tracks like "Horny Teen Sluts", while still being taken seriously on standout "Tired of Me".
Opening Can I Go Now? is the track "TV is Your Friend," which confronts Gallagher's self-awareness: "Don't think that I don't see you eyeing me". "It's Only Life" is a bouncy affair with Gallagher comforting himself by telling himself to "relax, put down the ax, it's only life."
"I'm Deep" starts with a sitar and a Buddhist chant; once this intro has played its course, Gallagher beings to play a catchy guitar progression and croons, "I'm Deeeeeeeeep! Will you sleep with me?" It works on many fronts; above all else, Gallagher is able to showcase his skewed sense of humor while displaying humility and his penchant for songwriting in four minutes.
Standout track and fan favorite "Try Not to Think About Bugs" is a waltz-y, Fiona Apple-esque, eery bedtime lore story that deals with, well, various bugs creeping and crawling and ceasing to escape one's conscious. Musicians Lisa Petrie on flute, Christina Bogiages on oboe, Paul Scriver on tenor saxophone, and Jarratt Rossini on bassoon play a large role in creating the masterful instrumentation. What works so well about "Try Not to Think About Bugs" is that the execution goes far beyond most songs' potential--it literally carries you to a childhood land where anything is possible. No contest--"Bugs" is the winner on Can I Go Now?.
Another standout track, "Little Martian Girl", starts with that all too familiar alien/whistle/UFO noise. Gallagher, eerily sounding like E of Eels, reminds us why he's different from other artists on songs like "Little Martian Girl"; that is, it's these cool little details that Gallagher adds that makes Can I Go Now? stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of indie singer/songwriters' music. Gallagher knows that his most ardent fans will appreciate these intricacies and I can't argue with that.
Gallagher falls flat on "Fuck This Noise" and the brief "Me and William Shakespeare". The former lacks the carefully considered instrumentation contained on the rest of the album and, athough having an interesting arrangement of background vocals by Laurie Amat, Sharon Gillenwater, and Kid Beyond, it comes across as boring and repetitive. "Shakespeare", although comical with well thought-out lyrics, sounds like just another filler track on an indie album about some guy telling a story that, truthfully, nobody wants to hear. "Shakespeare" seems more trying than on other humorous tracks, including "TV is Your Friend" and "I Am Better Than Your God".
"Tired of Me" is a heartbreaking, observant love song that shows Gallagher in his most vulnerable state. Gallagher is worn out, let down, and upset with himself and his partner. It's the story of a failed relationship from Gallagher's perspective. The song is refreshingly honest and subtle, with Gallagher's emotions on full display. It's obviously not as fun and frisky as "Bugs", but it's a welcomed addition to Can I Go Now? and it avoids being trite, like so many other male singer/songwriters' ballads.
Can I Go Now? is an involved, self-aware, honest, intelligent album that knows just when to be satirical. And when it's satirical, it usually works extremely well. Gallagher and his team's instrumentation is outstanding and the production is perfectly balanced. The great thing about Can I Go Now? is Gallagher's way of compiling these beautifully written stories and unrelated thoughts and emotions and creating a single coherent album. That takes masterful skill--most artists who attempt to throw so many subjects into one album fail to do so in a functional manner. Gallagher is a man who was meant to be a musician, taking sounds and instruments from various genres and claiming them his own. It's the instrumentation and the carefully pinned songwriting that separates Gallagher apart from these other musicians, (who, unfortunately, are receiving the fame.)
Larry Gallagher's music can be found on iTunes, CD Baby, and, of course, at one of Gallagher's shows.
(this is my enhanced review)
Born in the 60s, Gallagher has lead quite an unconvetional life. He has been a musician throughout his life, while also being an ongoing contributor to Details, Esquire, and the New York Times Magazine on subjects from smoking psychedelic toad sweat to yoga in India. In '96, Gallagher decided he needed a life change: he joined a Zen Buddhist monastery on a mountaintop just outside of L.A. for three years, living as a monk with none other than Leonard Cohen. In Gallagher's words, all he got out of these years was a girlfriend and the song "I'm Deep", contained on Can I Go Now? These days, Gallagher seems to have settled down in San Francisco and has released two albums: An Endless Chain of Accidents and his latest, Can I Go Now?
Sometimes similar sounding to Belle & Sebastian and E of Eels, one thing is certain: Larry Gallagher is a storyteller. Whether discussing his deepness on tracks like "I'm Deep" or his desire to have a conversation with Shakespeare on "Me and William Shakespeare", Gallagher has an ability that other indie-rock musicians aren't able to convey so clearly in their art: he can be satirical on tracks like "Horny Teen Sluts", while still being taken seriously on standout "Tired of Me".
Opening Can I Go Now? is the track "TV is Your Friend," which confronts Gallagher's self-awareness: "Don't think that I don't see you eyeing me". "It's Only Life" is a bouncy affair with Gallagher comforting himself by telling himself to "relax, put down the ax, it's only life."
"I'm Deep" starts with a sitar and a Buddhist chant; once this intro has played its course, Gallagher beings to play a catchy guitar progression and croons, "I'm Deeeeeeeeep! Will you sleep with me?" It works on many fronts; above all else, Gallagher is able to showcase his skewed sense of humor while displaying humility and his penchant for songwriting in four minutes.
Standout track and fan favorite "Try Not to Think About Bugs" is a waltz-y, Fiona Apple-esque, eery bedtime lore story that deals with, well, various bugs creeping and crawling and ceasing to escape one's conscious. Musicians Lisa Petrie on flute, Christina Bogiages on oboe, Paul Scriver on tenor saxophone, and Jarratt Rossini on bassoon play a large role in creating the masterful instrumentation. What works so well about "Try Not to Think About Bugs" is that the execution goes far beyond most songs' potential--it literally carries you to a childhood land where anything is possible. No contest--"Bugs" is the winner on Can I Go Now?.
Another standout track, "Little Martian Girl", starts with that all too familiar alien/whistle/UFO noise. Gallagher, eerily sounding like E of Eels, reminds us why he's different from other artists on songs like "Little Martian Girl"; that is, it's these cool little details that Gallagher adds that makes Can I Go Now? stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of indie singer/songwriters' music. Gallagher knows that his most ardent fans will appreciate these intricacies and I can't argue with that.
Gallagher falls flat on "Fuck This Noise" and the brief "Me and William Shakespeare". The former lacks the carefully considered instrumentation contained on the rest of the album and, athough having an interesting arrangement of background vocals by Laurie Amat, Sharon Gillenwater, and Kid Beyond, it comes across as boring and repetitive. "Shakespeare", although comical with well thought-out lyrics, sounds like just another filler track on an indie album about some guy telling a story that, truthfully, nobody wants to hear. "Shakespeare" seems more trying than on other humorous tracks, including "TV is Your Friend" and "I Am Better Than Your God".
"Tired of Me" is a heartbreaking, observant love song that shows Gallagher in his most vulnerable state. Gallagher is worn out, let down, and upset with himself and his partner. It's the story of a failed relationship from Gallagher's perspective. The song is refreshingly honest and subtle, with Gallagher's emotions on full display. It's obviously not as fun and frisky as "Bugs", but it's a welcomed addition to Can I Go Now? and it avoids being trite, like so many other male singer/songwriters' ballads.
Can I Go Now? is an involved, self-aware, honest, intelligent album that knows just when to be satirical. And when it's satirical, it usually works extremely well. Gallagher and his team's instrumentation is outstanding and the production is perfectly balanced. The great thing about Can I Go Now? is Gallagher's way of compiling these beautifully written stories and unrelated thoughts and emotions and creating a single coherent album. That takes masterful skill--most artists who attempt to throw so many subjects into one album fail to do so in a functional manner. Gallagher is a man who was meant to be a musician, taking sounds and instruments from various genres and claiming them his own. It's the instrumentation and the carefully pinned songwriting that separates Gallagher apart from these other musicians, (who, unfortunately, are receiving the fame.)
Larry Gallagher's music can be found on iTunes, CD Baby, and, of course, at one of Gallagher's shows.
(this is my enhanced review)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Museum of Contemporary Photography Review
"PhotoDimensional", Columbia College Chicago's latest exhibition at their magnificent Museum of Contemporary Photography, offers the public a chance to observe art that investigates the relationship between sculpture and photography, between two and three dimensions, and explore the issues inherent to those relationships. The pieces in this exhibition challenge the notion that a two dimensional photograph cannot be examined in more than a two-dimensional light. The works in this exhibition, which are of mixed media, highlight and acknowledge the multiple layers within a two-dimensional landscape, often leaving the observer feeling a sense of chaos and intricacy, yet subtlety when looking at the "big picture".
One of the most widely discussed pieces, and one of my favorites in the collection, La Ronde by artist Bettina Hoffmann, is a three-piece video installation that uses a slowly panning video camera to present multiple points of view on subjects who are absolutely still, (think The Matrix when Trinity freezes in midair and the camera pans around her in midair.) It felt as if I was traveling through a two-dimensional photograph; therefore, the humans became sculptures to stare at, to examine, to judge. The installation felt extremely voyeuristic and, in some ways, made me feel uncomfortable to be examining these subjects so closely by every angle.
Out of the three sections in La Ronde, my favorite was a scene with two male human subjects, seemingly getting ready to confront a beautiful woman sitting down who is staring at some object in the distance. The camera panned around the three subjects as if we, the audience, were on a carousel, with deeply personal and haunting ambient, repetitive music effortlessly playing in the background and moving along with us. The section displayed the art of a moment, the dynamics of human interaction, and the open-endedness and ordinary setting of the scene made it even more personal and relateable.
In the three sections of La Ronde, the camera kept going around and around in one big circle as if we were in the world or in the bubble with these characters, yet each subject still seemed stuck in their own bubble, in their own world, deep within themselves. In another section, we are once again examining various subjects--this time, we are at the lunch table with a family. There is a sleeping child, the child's grandmother staring at a bowlful of berries, the child's grandfather asking his daughter a question, his son staring at his face, the son's sister not paying attention, her husband staring at the sleeping child. Alright, that was confusing, but so is La Ronde; we don't know for certain if these subjects have any relation, but we can't help but find the time to examine the dynamics of these characters and try to decipher the emotional details that run so prevalent within these three pieces.
Melinda McDaniel's "Seven Days" is a piece that contains many large photo prints. As shown in the artistic statement, McDaniel's placed strips of color photographic paper outside to achieve varying degrees of exposure and imprints of weather, revealing the subtle color gradients inherent in the paper's chemistry. Each strip was exposed from one to seven days and are shown chronologically left to right, with the the shortest exposured photograph on the left and the longest exposed on the right. Because the paper has not been processed, the "photographs" will continue to expose throughout the exhibition, negating the typical notion that a photograph is a still moment in time. McDaniel's photographs lead the audience to wonder if one would be able to analyze and interpret the language of the photographs, even though there was no subject or any sort of story that one would be able to work with.
Another one of my favorite pieces in the "PhotoDimensional" collection is a piece by Florian Slotawa from the series Hotelarbeiten. Sotawa took photographs of hotel furniture that he arranged into fortress-like sculptures in various European hotel rooms. The subject of hotels and the thousand of stories that must have occured in one hotel room always fascinates me, and Slotawa's photographs brought a sense of life, of playfulness and security, to these otherwise stale, impersonal spaces.
"PhotoDimensional" contains work by John Coplans, Katalin Deer, Leslie Hewitt, Bettina Hoffmann, Pello Irazu, David Ireland, Heather Mekkelson, Melinda McDaniel, Laurent Millet, Vik Muniz, Susana Reisman, Lorna Simpson, and Florian Slotawa.
The exhibition is running from February 13th - April 19th, 2009 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography at Columbia College Chicago, 600 S. Michigan Ave. The exhibition is free and open to the general public. Hours: Mon-Sat, 10am-5pm; Thursday, 10am-8pm; Sunday, 12pm-5pm.
One of the most widely discussed pieces, and one of my favorites in the collection, La Ronde by artist Bettina Hoffmann, is a three-piece video installation that uses a slowly panning video camera to present multiple points of view on subjects who are absolutely still, (think The Matrix when Trinity freezes in midair and the camera pans around her in midair.) It felt as if I was traveling through a two-dimensional photograph; therefore, the humans became sculptures to stare at, to examine, to judge. The installation felt extremely voyeuristic and, in some ways, made me feel uncomfortable to be examining these subjects so closely by every angle.
Out of the three sections in La Ronde, my favorite was a scene with two male human subjects, seemingly getting ready to confront a beautiful woman sitting down who is staring at some object in the distance. The camera panned around the three subjects as if we, the audience, were on a carousel, with deeply personal and haunting ambient, repetitive music effortlessly playing in the background and moving along with us. The section displayed the art of a moment, the dynamics of human interaction, and the open-endedness and ordinary setting of the scene made it even more personal and relateable.
In the three sections of La Ronde, the camera kept going around and around in one big circle as if we were in the world or in the bubble with these characters, yet each subject still seemed stuck in their own bubble, in their own world, deep within themselves. In another section, we are once again examining various subjects--this time, we are at the lunch table with a family. There is a sleeping child, the child's grandmother staring at a bowlful of berries, the child's grandfather asking his daughter a question, his son staring at his face, the son's sister not paying attention, her husband staring at the sleeping child. Alright, that was confusing, but so is La Ronde; we don't know for certain if these subjects have any relation, but we can't help but find the time to examine the dynamics of these characters and try to decipher the emotional details that run so prevalent within these three pieces.
Melinda McDaniel's "Seven Days" is a piece that contains many large photo prints. As shown in the artistic statement, McDaniel's placed strips of color photographic paper outside to achieve varying degrees of exposure and imprints of weather, revealing the subtle color gradients inherent in the paper's chemistry. Each strip was exposed from one to seven days and are shown chronologically left to right, with the the shortest exposured photograph on the left and the longest exposed on the right. Because the paper has not been processed, the "photographs" will continue to expose throughout the exhibition, negating the typical notion that a photograph is a still moment in time. McDaniel's photographs lead the audience to wonder if one would be able to analyze and interpret the language of the photographs, even though there was no subject or any sort of story that one would be able to work with.
Another one of my favorite pieces in the "PhotoDimensional" collection is a piece by Florian Slotawa from the series Hotelarbeiten. Sotawa took photographs of hotel furniture that he arranged into fortress-like sculptures in various European hotel rooms. The subject of hotels and the thousand of stories that must have occured in one hotel room always fascinates me, and Slotawa's photographs brought a sense of life, of playfulness and security, to these otherwise stale, impersonal spaces.
"PhotoDimensional" contains work by John Coplans, Katalin Deer, Leslie Hewitt, Bettina Hoffmann, Pello Irazu, David Ireland, Heather Mekkelson, Melinda McDaniel, Laurent Millet, Vik Muniz, Susana Reisman, Lorna Simpson, and Florian Slotawa.
The exhibition is running from February 13th - April 19th, 2009 at the Museum of Contemporary Photography at Columbia College Chicago, 600 S. Michigan Ave. The exhibition is free and open to the general public. Hours: Mon-Sat, 10am-5pm; Thursday, 10am-8pm; Sunday, 12pm-5pm.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Nikki Lee Critique
I never thought I could have so much to say about one collection of art -- in fact, usually when I visit galleries or observe a particular piece of art, I feel that people around me create interpretations just to create interpretations, as if they are analyzing with the intention of boggling their own minds out of boredom. I do feel that one can analyze any media if given time, as shown in my previous English classes, but this particular collection of Nikki Lee's seems relevant and crucial and worth a discussion.
These photographs, all taken with a disposable camera, show a woman in different social situations. The photographs are amateur and don't seem to display a particular sense of artistry. If this weren't an art collection, I would have gone through them very quickly without thought; however, knowing that there was something to be said about the collection, I grew to appreciate what Lee was getting at with these photographs -- that is, is life many phases put together? Is it possible to become part of a group/social setting in a few short weeks? Do we lose our individuality when we decide to partake in the lifestyle of a particular group? (Indeed, to answer the last question, Lee seemed almost unrecognizable in the snapshots, becoming just another punk skateboarder or urban Hispanic.)
The collection itself brought up many questions. Who were the photographers and should they receive credit for the project? Did the various social groups understand that Lee was creating an art project? Is there a significance to the dates printed on the snapshots (besides having scientific specificity)?
These photographs, all taken with a disposable camera, show a woman in different social situations. The photographs are amateur and don't seem to display a particular sense of artistry. If this weren't an art collection, I would have gone through them very quickly without thought; however, knowing that there was something to be said about the collection, I grew to appreciate what Lee was getting at with these photographs -- that is, is life many phases put together? Is it possible to become part of a group/social setting in a few short weeks? Do we lose our individuality when we decide to partake in the lifestyle of a particular group? (Indeed, to answer the last question, Lee seemed almost unrecognizable in the snapshots, becoming just another punk skateboarder or urban Hispanic.)
The collection itself brought up many questions. Who were the photographers and should they receive credit for the project? Did the various social groups understand that Lee was creating an art project? Is there a significance to the dates printed on the snapshots (besides having scientific specificity)?
Monday, February 23, 2009
Revisions in "Peaceful Warrior" Review
In my revision book review post, I did the following:
1. I took out many parentheses that contained my own side comments, (Carolyn, Jonathan, Aubree, and Robert all agreed that it distracted the them from the actual book review.)
2. I shortened the review by about 50 words, something that I felt necessary, like I was trimming the fat off of this big hunky steak.
3. I changed some of the wording and made a few corrections, (i.e. commas, spelling, etc.) Some of the words didn't quite work so great in the original review. For example, the old line: "Told with a great sense of awareness, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is a story not to be taken for granted." VS. the new line: "Told with a great sense of knowledge and awareness, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is a timeless story about one man's quest for happiness."
4. I completely deleted the second paragraph. It seemed long, whiny, and irrelevant. Robert commented that it was a bit like, "Yeah, so...?" And I agree. It was boring and contained a lot of words without, well, saying anything of value.
5. I put the original third paragraph into the last paragraph, as it read more like a closing argument or final thought than criticism in the middle of a review. It worked beautifully, combining these two, I mean.
6. I fixed up some tense problems, (i.e. I thought/You will like/The book isn't)
7. In the "new" second paragraph, I added more constructive criticism/objectivity, something that Carolyn and Robert both wanted me to do. Take for example, the last line: "The way that Millman was able to so eloquently phrase these "new-age" concepts is what separates itself from similar novels. Not only is Way of the Peaceful Warrior a remarkable and captivating story, it has proven itself as THE self-aware manifestation of what one person is capable of achieving in life, taking the subtitle "A Book That Changes Lives."
(In defense, this is a novel where, in my opinion, a subjective review would not seem that inappropriate, as it can be considered a "self-help" book by some.)
8. I gave more commentary on the book as a whole. Take, for example, the second to last paragraph: "Millman does this through storytelling without being moralistic or over-the-top and with little religious overtone, something that other similar "search-for-happiness" novels manifest. This is not a "how-to" book by any means, but the lessons taught and, particularly some passages, left me feeling a renewed sense of possibility and passion for life."
9. Although I already said that I took out the original second paragraph, I must state that I made it a top priority to take out the following line: "...something that I have been working on tremendously in my own life." That seems much, much too subjective and personal, as Robert pointed out, especially if I am writing for a publication like Newsweek or Time. (Like, why does it matter if I am working on my own life?)
10. As Robert suggested, I took out the line: "However, I do still have some faith in humanity and I very much so believe in supernatural/other-worldly phenomena. My duty here isn't to doubt the possibility or authenticity of what Millman has written, but to examine the novel as a whole and comment and what works and what does not work." Again, too much irrelevant information, I just decided to "do it" instead of telling the audience what I was going to do.
There were other small changes that I made.
1. I took out many parentheses that contained my own side comments, (Carolyn, Jonathan, Aubree, and Robert all agreed that it distracted the them from the actual book review.)
2. I shortened the review by about 50 words, something that I felt necessary, like I was trimming the fat off of this big hunky steak.
3. I changed some of the wording and made a few corrections, (i.e. commas, spelling, etc.) Some of the words didn't quite work so great in the original review. For example, the old line: "Told with a great sense of awareness, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is a story not to be taken for granted." VS. the new line: "Told with a great sense of knowledge and awareness, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is a timeless story about one man's quest for happiness."
4. I completely deleted the second paragraph. It seemed long, whiny, and irrelevant. Robert commented that it was a bit like, "Yeah, so...?" And I agree. It was boring and contained a lot of words without, well, saying anything of value.
5. I put the original third paragraph into the last paragraph, as it read more like a closing argument or final thought than criticism in the middle of a review. It worked beautifully, combining these two, I mean.
6. I fixed up some tense problems, (i.e. I thought/You will like/The book isn't)
7. In the "new" second paragraph, I added more constructive criticism/objectivity, something that Carolyn and Robert both wanted me to do. Take for example, the last line: "The way that Millman was able to so eloquently phrase these "new-age" concepts is what separates itself from similar novels. Not only is Way of the Peaceful Warrior a remarkable and captivating story, it has proven itself as THE self-aware manifestation of what one person is capable of achieving in life, taking the subtitle "A Book That Changes Lives."
(In defense, this is a novel where, in my opinion, a subjective review would not seem that inappropriate, as it can be considered a "self-help" book by some.)
8. I gave more commentary on the book as a whole. Take, for example, the second to last paragraph: "Millman does this through storytelling without being moralistic or over-the-top and with little religious overtone, something that other similar "search-for-happiness" novels manifest. This is not a "how-to" book by any means, but the lessons taught and, particularly some passages, left me feeling a renewed sense of possibility and passion for life."
9. Although I already said that I took out the original second paragraph, I must state that I made it a top priority to take out the following line: "...something that I have been working on tremendously in my own life." That seems much, much too subjective and personal, as Robert pointed out, especially if I am writing for a publication like Newsweek or Time. (Like, why does it matter if I am working on my own life?)
10. As Robert suggested, I took out the line: "However, I do still have some faith in humanity and I very much so believe in supernatural/other-worldly phenomena. My duty here isn't to doubt the possibility or authenticity of what Millman has written, but to examine the novel as a whole and comment and what works and what does not work." Again, too much irrelevant information, I just decided to "do it" instead of telling the audience what I was going to do.
There were other small changes that I made.
Revised Book Review: Way of the Peaceful Warrior
Dan Millman's imaginative novel Way of the Peaceful Warrior, first published in 1980, tells the story of a talented college-level gymnast, Dan, who stumbles upon a 96-year-old man working in an all-night gas station. The old man has appeared in Dan's dreams for weeks prior to this occurence. After confronting this old man, Dan decides to call him Socrates--(no, not that Socrates, but a man just as philosophical.) This was Dan's destiny, as Socrates becomes Dan's mentor in every aspect of his life, especially spiritually, pushing him to extremes with the intention of Dan ultimately reaching a state of eternal happiness and love, just as Socrates has done for himself. Through important teachings, ("there are no ordinary moments!") and criticisms, ("Dan, you are suffering...gymnastics is a temporary way to distract you from your underlying sense of fear",) Socrates is the all-knowing force that consumes every minute of Dan's waking--and sleeping--life. Told with a great sense of knowledge and awareness, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is a timeless story about one man's quest for happiness.
I found myself reading many passages twice or more in Way of the Peaceful Warrior. One quote, spoken from Socrates to Dan, strikes me as particularly relevant to this day: "Life is not suffering; it's just that you will suffer it, rather than enjoy it, until you let go of your mind's attachments and just go for the ride freely, no matter what happens." Indeed, Millman (or Socrates,) believes in ridding one's self of personal cravings which will, in turn, bring you one step closer to achieving an eternal state of bliss. The way that Millman was able to so eloquently phrase these "new-age" concepts is what separates itself from similar novels. Not only is Way of the Peaceful Warrior a remarkable and captivating story, it has proven itself as THE self-aware manifestation of what one person is capable of achieving in life, taking the subtitle "A Book That Changes Lives."
Like all media out there, Peaceful Warrior won't be for everyone. Some people will find it preachy while some will have trouble getting through the first twenty pages, accusing Millman of being on a cocktail of drugs at the time of writing. There are many parts of the book that come off as trite--for instance, Socrates has a habit of always responding to Dan's questions or thoughts with a long-winded, life-changing, groundbreaking quote. But what I find most appealing about Way of the Peaceful Warrior is how it encourages the reader to analyze herself and understand the urgency of, well, understanding one's self. Millman does this through storytelling without being moralistic or over-the-top and with little religious overtone, something that other similar "search-for-happiness" novels manifest. This is not a "how-to" book by any means, but the lessons taught and, particularly some passages, left me feeling a renewed sense of possibility and passion for life.
I strongly recommend this novel to anyone searching for meaning or balance in their lives; Way of the Peaceful Warrior is the perfect companion to lead the way for a person looking to self-explore, become much more self-reliant, and reach a higher level of awareness.
I found myself reading many passages twice or more in Way of the Peaceful Warrior. One quote, spoken from Socrates to Dan, strikes me as particularly relevant to this day: "Life is not suffering; it's just that you will suffer it, rather than enjoy it, until you let go of your mind's attachments and just go for the ride freely, no matter what happens." Indeed, Millman (or Socrates,) believes in ridding one's self of personal cravings which will, in turn, bring you one step closer to achieving an eternal state of bliss. The way that Millman was able to so eloquently phrase these "new-age" concepts is what separates itself from similar novels. Not only is Way of the Peaceful Warrior a remarkable and captivating story, it has proven itself as THE self-aware manifestation of what one person is capable of achieving in life, taking the subtitle "A Book That Changes Lives."
Like all media out there, Peaceful Warrior won't be for everyone. Some people will find it preachy while some will have trouble getting through the first twenty pages, accusing Millman of being on a cocktail of drugs at the time of writing. There are many parts of the book that come off as trite--for instance, Socrates has a habit of always responding to Dan's questions or thoughts with a long-winded, life-changing, groundbreaking quote. But what I find most appealing about Way of the Peaceful Warrior is how it encourages the reader to analyze herself and understand the urgency of, well, understanding one's self. Millman does this through storytelling without being moralistic or over-the-top and with little religious overtone, something that other similar "search-for-happiness" novels manifest. This is not a "how-to" book by any means, but the lessons taught and, particularly some passages, left me feeling a renewed sense of possibility and passion for life.
I strongly recommend this novel to anyone searching for meaning or balance in their lives; Way of the Peaceful Warrior is the perfect companion to lead the way for a person looking to self-explore, become much more self-reliant, and reach a higher level of awareness.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Book Review: "Way of the Peaceful Warrior"
Dan Millman's imaginative novel Way of the Peaceful Warrior tells the story of a talented college-level gymnast, Dan Millman, (coincidence? I think not,) who stumbles upon a 96-year-old man working in an all-night gas station. This man has appeared in Dan's dreams, (coincidence? I think not,) and Dan decides to call him Socrates, (no, not that Socrates, but a man just as philosophical.) Socrates becomes Dan's mentor in every aspect of his life, especially spiritually, pushing him to extremes with the intention of Dan ultimately reaching a state of eternal happiness and love, just as Socrates has done for himself. Through important teachings ("there are no ordinary moments!") and criticisms ("Dan, you are suffering...gymnastics is a temporary way to distract you from your underlying sense of fear",) Socrates is the all-knowing force that consumes every minute of Dan's waking--and sleeping--life. Told with a great sense of awareness, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is a story not to be taken for granted.
Is Millman's story hard to believe? Sure, a bit. Does it seem strange that the main character, Dan Millman, also happens to be the name of the author, yet the book can be found in the 'Fiction' section at your local bookstore? Of course, (but that does take Peaceful Warrior off the list of books suffering from the 'James Frey syndrome'.) However, I do still have some faith in humanity and I very much so believe in supernatural/other-worldly phenomena. My duty here isn't to doubt the possibility or authenticity of what Millman has written, but to examine the novel as a whole and comment and what works and what does not work.
What I find most appealing about Way of the Peaceful Warrior is how it encourages the reader to analyze his or her own self and understand the urgency of, well, understanding one's self. Millman does this through storytelling without being preachy or over-the-top and with little religious undertone; this is not a "how-to" book by any means, but the lessons taught and, particularly some passages, leave the reader feeling a renewed sense of possibility and passion for life. (My only question--where can I find my own Socrates?)
Many passages in Way of the Peaceful Warrior need to be read numerous times to understand the urgency and importance of the information that Socrates shares with Dan. One quote, spoken from Socrates to Dan, strikes me as particularly relevant to this day (even though Peaceful Warrior was published in 1980), and it is something that I have been working on tremendously in my own life: "Life is not suffering; it's just that you will suffer it, rather than enjoy it, until you let go of your mind's attachments and just go for the ride freely, no matter what happens." Indeed, this book (or Socrates) believes in ridding one's self of personal cravings which will, in turn, bring you one step closer to achieving an eternal state of bliss.
Needless to say, Peaceful Warrior won't be for everyone. Some people will find it preachy while some won't even get past the first twenty pages, accusing Millman of lunacy and/or mental illness. There are many parts of the book that I rolled my eyes at, (for instance Socrates' habit of always responding to Dan's questions or thoughts with a long-winded, life-changing, groundbreaking quote,) but if you look past the reality factor and if you understand the fragility of life and the monumental possibilities that it offers, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is the perfect companion to lead the way for a person who is looking to self-explore and reach a higher level of awareness.
Is Millman's story hard to believe? Sure, a bit. Does it seem strange that the main character, Dan Millman, also happens to be the name of the author, yet the book can be found in the 'Fiction' section at your local bookstore? Of course, (but that does take Peaceful Warrior off the list of books suffering from the 'James Frey syndrome'.) However, I do still have some faith in humanity and I very much so believe in supernatural/other-worldly phenomena. My duty here isn't to doubt the possibility or authenticity of what Millman has written, but to examine the novel as a whole and comment and what works and what does not work.
What I find most appealing about Way of the Peaceful Warrior is how it encourages the reader to analyze his or her own self and understand the urgency of, well, understanding one's self. Millman does this through storytelling without being preachy or over-the-top and with little religious undertone; this is not a "how-to" book by any means, but the lessons taught and, particularly some passages, leave the reader feeling a renewed sense of possibility and passion for life. (My only question--where can I find my own Socrates?)
Many passages in Way of the Peaceful Warrior need to be read numerous times to understand the urgency and importance of the information that Socrates shares with Dan. One quote, spoken from Socrates to Dan, strikes me as particularly relevant to this day (even though Peaceful Warrior was published in 1980), and it is something that I have been working on tremendously in my own life: "Life is not suffering; it's just that you will suffer it, rather than enjoy it, until you let go of your mind's attachments and just go for the ride freely, no matter what happens." Indeed, this book (or Socrates) believes in ridding one's self of personal cravings which will, in turn, bring you one step closer to achieving an eternal state of bliss.
Needless to say, Peaceful Warrior won't be for everyone. Some people will find it preachy while some won't even get past the first twenty pages, accusing Millman of lunacy and/or mental illness. There are many parts of the book that I rolled my eyes at, (for instance Socrates' habit of always responding to Dan's questions or thoughts with a long-winded, life-changing, groundbreaking quote,) but if you look past the reality factor and if you understand the fragility of life and the monumental possibilities that it offers, Way of the Peaceful Warrior is the perfect companion to lead the way for a person who is looking to self-explore and reach a higher level of awareness.
Monday, February 9, 2009
South Loop Review
(First and foremost, I must say that I am reviewing the online version of the South Loop Review as I was no longer on campus when this assignment was given. Therefore, I am not able to comment on the physical appearance/construction of the zine.)
The South Loop Review, an annual publication of the English Department at Columbia College Chicago, is a literary journal containing some of the best and most diverse creative nonfiction and photography in the Chicagoland area. (Although starting out as student-generated work from courses such as Composition, Creative Nonfiction, Literature and Professional Writing, the South Loop Review now exclusively prints Creative Nonfiction work and is not only open to submissions by students at Columbia College Chicago, but also by any student or neighbor in Chicago.) The official website calls for "experimental forms of creative nonfiction such as segmented essays, montaged memoir, illustrated or graphic memoir, and short-form creative nonfiction--pieces that tell a story either through image or image and word." I am reviewing the online version of the South Loop Review, Volume 10.
Volume 10 of the South Loop Review online displays a very cool, large photograph of a close-up of an elephant's eye. Relevant? Not to any of the few selections that I read, but still a nice physical appearance in a swarm of black and white daily newspapers and flyers/brochures.
I read a few submissions in this edition: "Shaving My Mother's Head" by Andrea Combo, an observant five-part essay/prose about Combo's life with her mother going through cancer, "Mother, Broken" by Tom Whalen, a disorderly poetic piece, and "Neighbors" by Richard Terrill, a piece waaaaay too long for the attention spans of college students.
I particularly enjoyed the flawed but hilarious piece "Riverview" by John Crone. Crone writes about his time spent in a mental instituion, Riverview, where he has a roommate who has sexual intercourse with his mattress and where nicotine cravings are all too familiar. We don't find out why Crone is in this institution, but it's apparent that he is, by far, the most "normal" patient. "Riverview" is a short but humorous look at life in a psychiatric hospital from the eyes of a man who doesn't belong.
What I loved about the South Loop Review is that all of these contributors were so personal, so open, so honest. The artists shared a part of their private lives that most of us aren't able to discover when we're consumed with our daily routines. I am unfamiliar with the South Loop Review as a whole (this is the first volume I have picked up,) but there didn't seem to be any cohesion with these various pieces. I actually really liked that. It was a compilation of everyday people sharing their stories and their creativity with the residents of Chicago.
This volume would be a great read for a long train or airplane ride. The publication isn't exactly my cup of tea, (I only read trashy stuff like the Red Eye on the train,) but I can wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who is interested in nonfiction/fiction writing and poetry.
On a side note: the title of this publication throws me off. It sounds like an all-encompassing guide to the South Loop when it's really an artistic publication. Strange. I would change the name to something like "Good Toilet Reading for Artistic People". Don't you think it would gain popularity?
The South Loop Review, an annual publication of the English Department at Columbia College Chicago, is a literary journal containing some of the best and most diverse creative nonfiction and photography in the Chicagoland area. (Although starting out as student-generated work from courses such as Composition, Creative Nonfiction, Literature and Professional Writing, the South Loop Review now exclusively prints Creative Nonfiction work and is not only open to submissions by students at Columbia College Chicago, but also by any student or neighbor in Chicago.) The official website calls for "experimental forms of creative nonfiction such as segmented essays, montaged memoir, illustrated or graphic memoir, and short-form creative nonfiction--pieces that tell a story either through image or image and word." I am reviewing the online version of the South Loop Review, Volume 10.
Volume 10 of the South Loop Review online displays a very cool, large photograph of a close-up of an elephant's eye. Relevant? Not to any of the few selections that I read, but still a nice physical appearance in a swarm of black and white daily newspapers and flyers/brochures.
I read a few submissions in this edition: "Shaving My Mother's Head" by Andrea Combo, an observant five-part essay/prose about Combo's life with her mother going through cancer, "Mother, Broken" by Tom Whalen, a disorderly poetic piece, and "Neighbors" by Richard Terrill, a piece waaaaay too long for the attention spans of college students.
I particularly enjoyed the flawed but hilarious piece "Riverview" by John Crone. Crone writes about his time spent in a mental instituion, Riverview, where he has a roommate who has sexual intercourse with his mattress and where nicotine cravings are all too familiar. We don't find out why Crone is in this institution, but it's apparent that he is, by far, the most "normal" patient. "Riverview" is a short but humorous look at life in a psychiatric hospital from the eyes of a man who doesn't belong.
What I loved about the South Loop Review is that all of these contributors were so personal, so open, so honest. The artists shared a part of their private lives that most of us aren't able to discover when we're consumed with our daily routines. I am unfamiliar with the South Loop Review as a whole (this is the first volume I have picked up,) but there didn't seem to be any cohesion with these various pieces. I actually really liked that. It was a compilation of everyday people sharing their stories and their creativity with the residents of Chicago.
This volume would be a great read for a long train or airplane ride. The publication isn't exactly my cup of tea, (I only read trashy stuff like the Red Eye on the train,) but I can wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who is interested in nonfiction/fiction writing and poetry.
On a side note: the title of this publication throws me off. It sounds like an all-encompassing guide to the South Loop when it's really an artistic publication. Strange. I would change the name to something like "Good Toilet Reading for Artistic People". Don't you think it would gain popularity?
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Anna Deavere Smith Lecture
I had no idea who Anna Deavere Smith was when I went into her lecture on Tuesday, January 27, 2009.
Smith, a MacArthur Fellowship recipient, playwright (Twilight: Los Angeles 1992), actress (Rent, The West Wing) and teacher, took the stage after an informative introduction by Mark Kelly, CCC's Vice President of Student Affairs. My first thought when Smith took the stage? Holy shit, this woman is loud. Really loud. I soon realized she was acting, (a Louis "Studs" Terkel dialogue, playing various characters and seemingly talking to herself throughout this performance--probably a way of drawing us into this lecture and also a requiem for the late Terkel.) I had no expectations going into this lecture and hadn't the slightest idea what Smith was trying to accomplish during this opening routine, but found myself laughing along at the situation, I think.
The presentation seemed sporadic and disorderly, undeniably confusing in what Smith was trying to tell us. There was talk of diversity, education, arts, the future, etc. It seemed that Smith's ultimate question was some form of the following: How will the election of Barack Obama affect diversity in the arts institution? After rambling a bit about God-knows-what in the arts sector, Smith opened the floor up to comments and questions about this unique moment of transformation from the Bush presidency to the Obama presidency and what it will entail for the arts. A few audience members who knew what the hell was going on supplied Smith with various facts and opinion and once these contributors would finish speaking, Smith would make them dig deeper, continually asking them for examples, and eventually playing devil's advocate.
Smith did tell an interesting story of how at the close of the Obama inauguration in January, the grounds were completely trashed. During Barack Obama's speech, each attendee was smiling, quiet, and respectful when he spoke about responsibility and coming together as one people, so then why was there trash everywhere? In essence, Ms. Smith was saying that if we as a people can't even pick up our own trash, how are we going to move forward? It does make you think. (Is all this even worth it, this "moving forward" march? Is it too late?)
Smith undoubtedly has a lot to say and boy, does she say it. Many of her theories and approaches to life are interesting, including her desire for each person to step out of their (self-described) "safe house of identity." She asked one question that hit us all quite hard: "To what extent are you willing to shake things up?" It's a great question, especially in the often tough and corrupt times that we're living in. She also had some words of wisdom for the collegiate crowd: "Take yourself seriously as a leader--value your classmates and professors."
However, as I have implied earlier, there was no overall cohesion in Smith's performance. Sure, she attempted to challenge us and make us think (very, very little), but a few days later, I still haven't the slightest clue what her message was. And coming out of this assembly, neither did many of my classmates. After the speech, my friend Chelsea turned to me and said, "Holy shit, I feel stupid." I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Either we're both extremely stupid and lack listening/comprehension skills, or we just totally missed the point. Or maybe a little bit of both.
Smith, a MacArthur Fellowship recipient, playwright (Twilight: Los Angeles 1992), actress (Rent, The West Wing) and teacher, took the stage after an informative introduction by Mark Kelly, CCC's Vice President of Student Affairs. My first thought when Smith took the stage? Holy shit, this woman is loud. Really loud. I soon realized she was acting, (a Louis "Studs" Terkel dialogue, playing various characters and seemingly talking to herself throughout this performance--probably a way of drawing us into this lecture and also a requiem for the late Terkel.) I had no expectations going into this lecture and hadn't the slightest idea what Smith was trying to accomplish during this opening routine, but found myself laughing along at the situation, I think.
The presentation seemed sporadic and disorderly, undeniably confusing in what Smith was trying to tell us. There was talk of diversity, education, arts, the future, etc. It seemed that Smith's ultimate question was some form of the following: How will the election of Barack Obama affect diversity in the arts institution? After rambling a bit about God-knows-what in the arts sector, Smith opened the floor up to comments and questions about this unique moment of transformation from the Bush presidency to the Obama presidency and what it will entail for the arts. A few audience members who knew what the hell was going on supplied Smith with various facts and opinion and once these contributors would finish speaking, Smith would make them dig deeper, continually asking them for examples, and eventually playing devil's advocate.
Smith did tell an interesting story of how at the close of the Obama inauguration in January, the grounds were completely trashed. During Barack Obama's speech, each attendee was smiling, quiet, and respectful when he spoke about responsibility and coming together as one people, so then why was there trash everywhere? In essence, Ms. Smith was saying that if we as a people can't even pick up our own trash, how are we going to move forward? It does make you think. (Is all this even worth it, this "moving forward" march? Is it too late?)
Smith undoubtedly has a lot to say and boy, does she say it. Many of her theories and approaches to life are interesting, including her desire for each person to step out of their (self-described) "safe house of identity." She asked one question that hit us all quite hard: "To what extent are you willing to shake things up?" It's a great question, especially in the often tough and corrupt times that we're living in. She also had some words of wisdom for the collegiate crowd: "Take yourself seriously as a leader--value your classmates and professors."
However, as I have implied earlier, there was no overall cohesion in Smith's performance. Sure, she attempted to challenge us and make us think (very, very little), but a few days later, I still haven't the slightest clue what her message was. And coming out of this assembly, neither did many of my classmates. After the speech, my friend Chelsea turned to me and said, "Holy shit, I feel stupid." I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Either we're both extremely stupid and lack listening/comprehension skills, or we just totally missed the point. Or maybe a little bit of both.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Writing
Writing...Writing...What do I think about writing.
I love to write. I love the written word and I find that I can more clearly express my ideas in this form. I like that I can backspace and I like that I can delete. I like that you, the reader, don't know how many times I am reconstructing a sentence, (something that I am constantly doing.) I especially enjoy writing on a website (having a blog) as it looks clean and fresh and is safe from theft, (unless the server were to crash and all of my writings would be deleted--eesh!) Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. I don't like to have much about me on the Internet. I don't like that accessibility factor. I am trying to (slowly) ween myself off of the social networking sites, (MySpace, Facebook, etc.) for privacy purposes.
Anyway, writing comes very naturally to me and it has always been a therapeutic process. Sometimes I don't have the words, the thoughts, the energy to hold an in-depth conversation with another person, especially if I am critically examining a piece of work; writing is how I am able to eloquently express my thoughts, is what I am trying to say.
I love to write. I love the written word and I find that I can more clearly express my ideas in this form. I like that I can backspace and I like that I can delete. I like that you, the reader, don't know how many times I am reconstructing a sentence, (something that I am constantly doing.) I especially enjoy writing on a website (having a blog) as it looks clean and fresh and is safe from theft, (unless the server were to crash and all of my writings would be deleted--eesh!) Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. I don't like to have much about me on the Internet. I don't like that accessibility factor. I am trying to (slowly) ween myself off of the social networking sites, (MySpace, Facebook, etc.) for privacy purposes.
Anyway, writing comes very naturally to me and it has always been a therapeutic process. Sometimes I don't have the words, the thoughts, the energy to hold an in-depth conversation with another person, especially if I am critically examining a piece of work; writing is how I am able to eloquently express my thoughts, is what I am trying to say.
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