Art outside of UMMA and the DIA

The Stamps Gallery is a new arts initiative through the University of Michigan Penny W. Stamps School of Art & Design aiming to provide an accessible, ever-changing space to the community. Disclaimer: this gallery is NOT on north campus! It is smack in the middle of downtown Ann Arbor on South Division Street between Wilma’s and Bar Louie, and coupled with free admission, there is absolutely no excuse to leave the place unexplored.

This past week, an MFA thesis exhibition named Dry Socks in a Submerged Canoe highlighted the works of graduate students Masimba Hwati, Laura Magnusson, Bridget Quinn, Rowan Renee, and Mayela Rodriguez. All evocative and visceral pieces—there were great examinations of cultural intersectionality, social justice, and ephemeral natural beauty. In the corner of the room, quietly hidden, were faint lights of blue bleeding onto the wall. That’s what lured me into Blue by Laura Magnusson.

Blue is a single channel video that locates the artist on the seafloor, arduously moving, exhaling, and burrowing through the afterlife of sexual violence. The medium of water, with its destructive potential and capacity to heal and the weight of an air tank, with its promise of survival and threat of impending emptiness, hold the fullness of traumatic experience. In this silent, psychic landscape, Magnusson bears witness to the complex nature of trauma and the ongoing process of recovery.”

I entered the dark room to be welcomed by two benches facing a seascape, which I soon realized was a short, silent film. I sat and watched the whole thing through twice. My body was paralyzed by the sheer strength that Magnusson evoked in her work. Wearing nothing but a coat, underwear, and snow boots, she braved the newfound gravity that accompanies full-submersion. She buried herself, her belongings, her experience in the seafloor—the only evidence of life was the constant flume of bubbles from her oxygen tank, surely a byproduct of breathing in a place unwelcome to doing so. As day turns to night turns to day again, Magnusson grapples with the upheaval and swelling of coming to terms, and then recovery.

There was no sound component, only silence. Much like the silence of victims of sexual abuse. Any witness to Blue was challenged to listen in other ways, observe the nuances of other sensory stimuli, and bear support and space for those who aren’t strong enough for themselves yet. Taken further, Magnusson urges the message of respecting silence. Too often, we feel the need to fill the silence: with empty conversation, with a needless hobby, with simple fidgets. In something as delicate and serious as trauma, talk is cheap. Having a voice is obviously critical in the matter, but not if its premature. We are capable of listening in other ways; listen with your eyes, listen with your hands, listen with you heart. Blue was a deepening exercise in empathy that reinforced the notions that there are other ways of communicating and healing past the verbal medium.

Here’s a MFA spotlight video on Magnusson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=14&v=KXfkloGzh9Y

Here’s a link to current and upcoming exhibitions coming to the Stamps Gallery: https://stamps.umich.edu/exhibitions/

What it feels like to be a dance major

This one goes out to all the skeptics of successful artists. We are not myths. We are not lesser than. We are just as professional as you. We are just as career-oriented as you.

Uncomfortable and unacceptable interactions surrounding the topic of ‘dance as a major’ mostly come up when I introduce myself.

Dismissively, “do you have classes for that?”

With glassed over eyes and a pitiful attempt to look interested, “thats so great that you’re pursuing your passion.”

Most large men go straight to, “you must be really flexible.”

What’s even more interesting is that I can feel the attitude visibly shift when I decide to integrate my dual-degree status and STEM pursuits. These reactions are indicative of a gross misunderstanding of the arts and what it means to be successful. By insulting those attaining a higher education in the arts, you are only confirming your own ignorance to the matter. Careers aren’t limited to doctors and lawyers, just like college education isn’t limited to lecture halls and lab sections.

Despite popular belief, a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance has requirements. We have to fulfill a large distribution of technique credits, complete a composition class series geared towards choreographic development, and participate in large scale productions for repertory credit. We have anatomy, kinesiology, and body somatic courses to supplement our working knowledge of our own bodies’ mechanics. We learn how to produce and present artistic work, alongside figuring out how to propagate that knowledge through pedagogical training. We take regular classes in English, music, theater, art history, and dance history to understand the robustness the world of art has to offer. We are constantly in late night rehearsals that lie outside of the enforced degree requirements because we are taught to always be making and finding and performing. If that already wasn’t enough, most every student in the Department of Dance is interdisciplinary who actively seeks out all the resources that the University of Michigan has to offer—whether that be another minor, major, or degree altogether.

We turn in papers and take exams just like the conventional college student. But unlike the accepted norm, we are asked to reveal the deepest parts of ourselves and not only put them on display, but make them available for criticism. It’s all a part of the job: to embody human experience and be a vessel for communication through a kinesthetic medium.

I implore whoever reads this to spread the word. This is not a slap on the wrist, this is a call to action. Reshaping what it means to have an education in the arts is going to require change from the ground up. Respect your peers and never underestimate the power of art.

Sometimes I question how people would look at me if I weren’t getting a dual-degree. Its almost as if microbiology coursework legitimizes my place here as a serious Michigan student, and dance stands in as an outstanding extracurricular.

 

(Image credit: Derek Crandall)

“Everything’s rose.”

Well, nearly two months later, I can finally say that I’m fully recovered from James Blake’s latest album release. Assume Form cut deep; it felt like he’d found and published the hidden contents of the locket necklace hanging around my neck. As a long time die hard James Blake fan, I noticed that this particular body of work distinguishes itself from the rest of his existing discography. Its themes and content are…dare I say…communicating a positive outlook? His music usually summons oppressively solemn memories with a grey background. His trance-inducing synthetic beats feel addictive, dizzying. When entrapping yourself to headphones, his music all too eerily takes the form of that persistent voice of ill ego inside the skull. In an interview Blake coyly submits, “I’ve subdued a generation. That will be my legacy.”

After letting my curiosity take the reigns of Google for a minute, I found the answer for why Assume Form seems to strike new emotional chords in the realm of intellectual sad boi edm. He fell in love.

James Blake doesn’t hold back—the lyricism and craftsmanship of this album are both a tender forehead kiss and a desperate shout into the void dedicated to the new, intoxicating gravitational forces that come with loving another.

 

On the consistent state of pleasant disbelief: Blake, James. “Can’t Believe the Way We Flow.” Assume Form. Polydor Ltd. (UK) 2019.

I can’t believe the way you showed everyone/Couldn’t they see what you could do for everyone/I know it took you a while to get to California/I had no idea I was waiting on you

I can’t believe the way we flow/I can’t believe the way we live together/I can’t believe the way we flow/I can’t believe the way we flow/I could have used you in the early days

Well, it’s been such a long, long, long, long time/With the music of my mind/Most of it seems unfinished now/I can’t believe the

I can’t believe the way we flow/I can’t believe the way we live together/I can’t believe the way we flow/I can’t believe the way we flow

Nothing makes a sound/When you’re not around/You are my fear of death/You wave my fear of self/And alone in the show/Despite what I was told/I’m finding I’m a smaller piece/Than I once thought/Oh, no, I really am/I really am

 

On the intensity of a trusting partnership: Blake, James. “Ill Come Too.” Assume Form. Polydor Ltd. (UK) 2019.

I’m gonna say what I need/If it’s the last thing I do/I do, I do, I do/I’m in that kind of mood/I’ve thrown my hat in the ring/I’ve got nothing to lose/With you, with you, with you/I’m in that kind of mood

I’ll go under your wing/I’ll slot right in between the/Cracks between you and him/I don’t wanna go home/Shall we drive from zone to zone?/I wouldn’t do this on my own/But I’m not on my own tonight

Oh, you’re going to New York?/I’m going there/Why don’t I come with you?/Oh, you’ve changed to L.A.?/I’m going there, I can go there too

I’m gonna say what I need/If it’s the last thing I do/I do, I do, I do/I’m in that kind of mood/I’ve thrown my hat in the ring/I’ve got nothing to lose/With you, with you, with you/I’m in that kind of mood

I’ll go under your wing/I’ll slot right in between the/Cracks between you and him/I don’t wanna go home/Shall we drive from zone to zone?/I wouldn’t do this on my own/But I’m not on my own tonight

Oh, you’re going to the brink?/I’m going there/Why don’t I come with you?/You don’t care what they think/I’m getting there/I could get there too

I’m gonna say what I need/If it’s the last thing I do/I do, I do, I do/I’m in that kind of mood/I’ve thrown my hat in the ring/I’ve got nothing to lose/With you, with you, with you/I’m in that kind of mood

I’ll go under your wing/I’ll slot right in between the/Cracks between you and him/I don’t wanna go home/Shall we drive from zone to zone?/I wouldn’t do this on my own/But I’m not on my own tonight

 

Let’s take some of Blake’s earlier works “Voyeur” and “The Wilhelm Scream” for brute comparison.

 

Blake, James. “Voyeur.” Overgrown. Polydor Ltd. (UK) 2013.

A voyeur is defined as a prying observer who is usually seeking the sordid or scandalous, deriving pleasure or gratification from looking at sexually provocative materials in secrecy. With that definition in mind, it’s hard to not be in fight or flight mode amidst the carefully engineered sounds of attenuated sirens in the song.

I don’t mind, it was all me/I don’t mind, it was all me/I don’t mind, it was all me/I don’t mind, it was all me

‘Cause I am flawed/When I am through those doors/‘Cause I am flawed/Times unsure

I should do whatever will make you feel secure

I don’t mind, it was all me/I don’t mind, it was all me/I don’t mind, it was all me/I don’t mind, it was all me

 

Blake, James. “The Wilhelm Scream.” James Blake. Polydor Ltd. (UK) 2019.

The wilhelm scream is a popular stock sound effect that’s been used in 389 films and counting. It’s usually employed when someone is shot, falls from a great height, or is thrown from an explosion. A truly intentional and unapologetic artistic choice, especially in the context of the lyrics.

I don’t know about my dreams/I don’t know about my dreamin’ anymore/All that I know is/I’m falling, falling, falling, falling.

Might as well fall in.

I don’t know about my love/I don’t know about my loving anymore/All that I know is/I’m falling, falling, falling, falling.

Might as well fall in.

 

I can’t help but ruminate over the drastic shift that’s happened from his first EP to now. It seems that James Blake has found a pair of rose-colored glasses, and I can’t help but sit here and wonder where mine are.

 

(Image credit: Google images)

Your body only wants to protect you

Antibodies are a hallmark of the adaptive immune system. Put simply, they’re blood proteins forced into cardiopulmonary circulation in response to a cascade of molecular signals that scream, “there’s an invader here!” They’re made specifically to target and neutralize pathogens by flagging them for destruction by other, more violent immune cells.

Yet, antibodies are not limited to existing in blood. Tears also contain antibodies.

Suddenly, I can’t help but go down the word association rabbit hole.

Immunity. Resistance. Protection. Exemption. Freedom. Unaffected. Healed.

Aside from crying being a physiological manifestation of the deeply psychological, could it be the body’s natural way of trying to treat itself by the only way it knows how? Inside all of our bodies lives a healer: a sort of system in place whose only job, is to treat and fix and mend. If our immune system could step out of the bounds of our skin, what would it look like? I’d like to think it would be different for everyone, since ways of recovering from person to person are not standardized, linear, or transferrable.

What’s to be suggested then by immune disorders—ones in which that create an antibody excess or deficiency? What is your body trying to communicate to you by continually producing antibodies for something that doesn’t exist? Or by producing no means of protection via antibodies, is your body surrendering itself without consent of the owner?

What’s more curious is that antibodies are not produced all the time; their production is triggered by the entrance of disease agents. Does this suggest that the presence of tear-engaging emotion is a foreign substance that needs to be disarmed? Tears of joy exist, along with tears of relief, but I think the strong association that exists between feelings of sadness and tears is no coincidence.

No one wants to be sad, just like no one wants to be ill. It is an emotion that is regularly avoided and pushed aside, because it’s one that takes away from the breadth of day to day life. Sadness creeps in like clouds and mist that grey out vibrancy and constantly exercise the dimmer on the light switch. It’s a parasite that grows stronger at your expense. It keeps you from operating at 100%. If there were a medicine at the store that was branded as a fast cure for swallowing negativity, it would surely fly off the shelves. Taken together, all of these considerations paint a pretty good picture of sadness as a sickness.

If the body’s natural state is one of strength and poise, it makes sense to want to exterminate anything that could possibly be construed as weakness. Immunity quite literally means “the lack of susceptibility, especially to something unwelcome or harmful.” The body strives to constantly rise above by building walls upon walls of protection, in efforts to be a beacon fortress. A fortress that doesn’t comprehend what it means to be a victim. A fortress that knows no vulnerability.

If I am one that believes in the truth of emotion, am I the immune system’s archangel? I see beauty in fragility and delicacy. Feelings are not hideous, they’re gorgeous and the most misunderstood forms of strength. When the time arrives to face actuality, maybe the immune system is only trying to soften the blow by making it harder to see through the tears.

 

(Image credit: Google images)

Art may be a part of culture, but my culture is not your art.

Nothing will make me quite as angry as tourism, under the guise of a study abroad program.

I am tired. Tired of seeing one too many pictures of people posing in third world countries pretending to identify with the lifestyle. Do not try to lay claim to a cultural identity that is not your own. You are a visitor and will always be a visitor because your time there is temporary. Spending a few months in Asia does not make you Asian, just like spending a few months in Africa does not make you African. A rice worker’s hat is not your prop. A kimono is not just a fashion statement. A hijab is not a decoration. The culture of other is not a backdrop for your Instagram self-expression. Rather, engage in ethical practices of honoring, appreciating, and supporting the culture of other.

Having deep appreciation for a place is so very different from using a place to create social capital for yourself. By posting appropriated pictures documenting your exotic journey abroad, you reduce another’s culture to a quick snapshot that is able to be scrolled past without a second glance. Think about what you are posting it for. For likes and comments? To cross “travel the world” off you our bucket list? To add “well-traveled” to your personality? We are in an age where everyone wants to “embrace” other cultures by posting these seemingly cute pictures, without actually supporting the people of that culture. This enables people to remain ignorant to the fact that they’re only perpetuating harmful stereotypes.

To make the most of your time away, do your research. When you enter a new space, understand that you are not just bringing yourself. You carry rich histories with you—stories of the people who came before you, of the country you’re from, and of what you’ve lived. Know that your presence transcends the bounds of your body, understand what you are representing, and take responsibility for your role in your own narrative. Especially coming from the United States; it’s of utmost importance to understand your role as an American given the deep rooted and far-extending ideals of colonialism, imperialism, and globalism birthed from our early predecessors and arguably, maintained by present day power structures. Recognize your place and reflect on the assets that allow you to leave your own country.

 

Definitions for Thought

Cultural appropriation—adoption of elements of one culture by members of another culture; can be controversial when members of a dominant culture appropriate from disadvantaged minority cultures because of the presence of power imbalances that are a byproduct of colonialism and oppression.

Social capital—network of connections with people that allow you to succeed in a social environment; a form of insulation or protection from adversity because of support derived from social status.

Insensitivity—lack of awareness or ability to respond to something; lack of concern for others’ feelings.

Exoticism—the representation of one culture for consumption by another; often involved surrounding foreign cultures with mystique and fantasy, which owed more to European culture than to the exotic cultures themselves; process of glamorization and stereotyping.

 

(Image credit: Google images)

You’re Invited: Blank Space Workshop

FINALLY, a student run organization dedicated to showcasing glimpses into a creative process. Her name is Blank Space Workshop. Thank you Eli Rallo, Miss Artistic Director extraordinaire, for making this work possible.

“The point of Blank Space Workshop is not to produce finished work or full productions. Rather, we hope to provide a space for emerging projects, early drafts and young pieces of original theatre to grow and mature. Through the workshop process, the writer and director will collaborate with the actors to make changes to the piece and help it grow into itself. The staged readings will be an extension of this process—inviting more people into the conversation about the piece and its potential. Sometimes, we are so focused on our final product—Blank Space will allow all of us to take a deep breath and realize how lucky we are to have the space to focus on our process.”

This past weekend, Blank Space hosted a double feature evening comprised of two student works: “Fire + Ice” by Emily Russell and “Exhibits from the Zoo” by Matt Harmon. In between works, audience members were encouraged to pick up a feedback card and participate in the creative process by positing initial thoughts, lasting impressions, likes and dislikes, criticisms and interpretations.

My very good friend and I put our heads together and came up with the following.

“Fire + Ice” was a short, poignant piece built around a conversation between an American girl and Icelandic guy while in a scenic geotherm, a typical place for solitude in Iceland. The calm, yet emotionally charged dialogue served to comment on how the American way differs vastly from other thought practices. The harsh encompassing ideals are so much so that citizens need to leave the country to find themselves, as if their whole self is not welcome in the “US regime.” Juxtaposed with self-sustaining, nature-focused Icelandic culture, a hidden examination of human nature was revealed.

“Exhibits in the Zoo,” an award winning student piece, was unique in that the main character was mute. All the actors and actresses involved were challenged to maintain the same level of complexity that is achieved by dialogue through other modes of communication. Content-wise, in short: a beautiful story of a boy in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

I’ll be the first to recognize that art, all too commonly, exists in a pretentious context. How could it not with the endless auditions, required professional training, nights rehearsing, hot stage lights, looming expectations, and almost enforced hipster aesthetic. Art is elevated: put on a pedestal by all the great artists that have come before and before. The pressure of contributing to that “name,” to be given the opportunity to create something considered “art” is a tall enough order for someone who truly respects art.

This new organization does the hard work of making art less scary, and more accessible by illuminating what is normally in the dark—behind the scenes work makes a debut on the main stage.

If you’re curious about getting to know Blank Space Workshop more, visit https://blankspacewsumich.com or @blankspacews on social media platforms.

Upcoming show in late March:

“Horns” by Sara Pendergast, directed by Isabel Olson. Walgreen Drama Center. Free admission. Go check it out and support process.

 

(Image credit: Google Images)