Jodorowsky’s Dune

We all know that Hollywood sometimes doesn’t produce the most original films, however, watching this documentary takes it to a whole new level.

Alejandro Jodorowsky, known for his comics such as “The Incal”, is a man who assembled great artistic talents such as Moebius, Orson Welles, and Salvador Dali to create the cinematic version of Frank Herbert’s “Dune”. This group of artists, which he calls his “Spiritual Warriors”, was gathered almost on a dime. For the most part, it was Jodorowsky’s passion for the project that got them to commit – a passion that can be seen throughout the film making the fact that this movie was never made all the more saddening.

Quite possibly the most ridiculous element of this snubbing is the fact that multiple ideas from the concept work and storyboard of this unmade film were scattered across Hollywood, resurfacing in well-known projects such as Star Wars and Alien.

For instance, the training scene with Luke Skywalker is ripped off a panel from the storyboard of Jodorowsky’s Dune and the Xenomorph from Alien was created by one of the artists working beneath Jodorowsky.

The Dune project later was passed on to David Lynch, we all know how that went.

I wish someone would at least take all this work and make an animation at least. But for now, I am glad that Jodorowsky decided to take his creative genius over to the world of comic books.

 

The Classic Mystery Storyline

I don’t know about you, but I love mysteries. Maybe it’s my inner boxcar kid or my desire to be Sherlock Holmes/Nancy Drew, but ever since I was a little kid, reading mystery stories, watching suspenseful films, and using my wild imagination, have always been my favorite pastimes to get that chilling thrill. For me, it started off with the cheesy Scooby-Doo-esque reads you’d pick up in elementary school, with plotlines of kidnappings and killings, leading us through a web of adventures to only find out that there was no kidnapping or killing at all. Then it moved up a notch into horror territory. Off-the-wall, dramatized stories of monsters looking to wreak havoc on the innocent. Now, I’m a faithful crime-tv watcher. It has the same elements found in the mysteries of my previous years, but a toned-down nature that is both heart-wrenching and relatable.

Anyway, as I delved into some great Lifetime movies this weekend, mystery and drama-filled of course, I got to thinking about the classic mystery storyline that has been recycled year in and year out since the beginning of time. There’s always these elements that make a mystery a mystery, and even though we know what will probably happen (granted, there are some plot twists), we can’t stop watching them because they’re so enticing!

What makes up the classic mystery storyline? What are its potions that make it the perfect recipe for suspense and awe? Well, let’s try and figure this out.

Step 1: Make Life Seem as Perfect as Can Be

Do you ever notice that in mystery plots, its almost always a cookie-cutter, all-is-well ambiance to start it off? The main characters are going about their day-to-day activities in blind contentment. Skipping, jogging, cooking, laughing..basically life is great, and they’re about to get a rude awakening and everybody knows it.

Step 2: The “Dun Dun Duuuuun” Moment

It happens. The murder, kidnapping, missing-person, monster, stalker, killer, whoever and whatever it is, occurs. It makes us gasp. It makes our wheels get to turning in our heads. It is the moment whether you decide to commit to this plotline and invest your emotions or drop it and go do something happy with your life.  If it’s a good “dun dun duuuun” moment, you will commit.

Step 3: The Mess and Stress Stage

All the action a.k.a the mess goes down. The adventure of figuring out who did what, why they did it, and what’s going to happen next, becomes the main objective. And, of course, there’s tons of stress amongst the characters, which in turn, stresses the reader/viewer out (me).

Step 4: The Gasp…”I would’ve Gotten Away With It If It Weren’t For You Darn Kids…” Stage

We finally come to put all of the pieces of the mystery together and find out who did it and for what reason. By far the best stage, but if it is not done right, things could go very wrong and all of that hard work could be worthless.

Every mystery follows this pattern. Some worse and some better than others. Although, I love a good mystery with this classic storyline, I can’t help but desire a little change and a real shock factor within the genre. The repetition of this storyline sometimes makes the exciting genre…yawn-worthy. I urge those mystery-lovers and creators out there to break out of the box that has been established for so long. Surprise us, shock us, make us scream!

 

 

3D as Art

3D movies have sort of become the joke of the cinematic world. They are a clear economic tool that the company uses as a way to sell their tickets at a much higher price. The thing is, though, that 3D effects could be used to enhance the experience of a movie. It would be very easy to make the necessary changes in order to make this a true artistic form of expression. It has happened with other media and we can see examples of 3D’s powerful work today.

Let’s start off with some history. If we look at past examples, we can see that innovations like 3D can be very successful as an artistic medium. Film is a great example of this. It first started as a sideshow at carnivals, just for shallow entertainment. It remained that way until someone decided to make art out of it. We can also look to television as another example of this. Nobody thought that television would be anything more than a passing fad, but now we see that is clearly much more than that. We are currently in the middle of the second Golden Age of television and looks like it is only getting better from here.

We should try and make 3D have the same effects as television and movies. It’s a relatively new technology and we should learn to use it correctly. It could be a great tool for building atmosphere, a new way to present comedy, and a creative approach to producing scare. If we, as an audience start demanding this use of 3D, then I think we would all have a better time at the movies. It’s not like it has never been tested before either. This approach has worked in other films. Look at Avatar. While it may not be the best movie ever made, but its use of 3D is stunning. It created an amazing world that seemed real and tangible. We should start working towards. I want 3D to be art and I think a lot of people would agree with me.

What Makes Music “Good?”

Whenever someone refers me to a musician of any genre that they find “good,” I’m always hesitant to accept that what qualifies as “good” to them will be the same for me. Really, there are so many ways to connect with music and so many ways to judge it. Eminem for example can be perceived as a god of rap talent or as perpetuating the misogynistic theme of violence against women. When I first started expanding my appreciation of rap, I asked my friends what they liked about artists like 2Pac and Biggie because they didn’t quite fit into my understanding at the time of what constituted “good” rap. To me, good rap meant fast rap. Speed equated to talent, but I quickly found in these artists that a good understanding of rhythm and lyricism (both political and comedic) can often create a more profound effect than speed alone. I also realized that though Tech N9ne’s “Caribou Lou” was a great song to crank up and roll your windows down to, its lyrics contribute no substance whatsoever to the song. At the end of the day I was listening to a rapper list the recipe for a mixed drink over a really cool beat.

While different ways of evaluating value of music can open up many avenues for appreciating artistic talent, every person has their own taste and expectations. Something that has always been a crucial factor to me is lyricism. The more poetic and complex the lyrics, the more I get sucked in. I know I’ve talked about Marina and the Diamonds in the past, who began writing poetry and transferred her talents to songwriting and music production, but another master of lyric composition and one of my personal favorites is the band Say Anything. Judging solely from their sound, they fall right into the category of teen angst punk music. However, looking closely at the lyrics complicates their image by showing the band’s appreciation for poetry and profound understanding of the power of language. As a writer, I deeply admire the sentences they construct because many of them hit me on both an emotional and an intellectual level.

For example, from the song “Yellow Cat Slash Red Cat” off of their 2004 album …Is A Real Boy, lead singer Max Bemis spits the words rhythmically, almost as if to poetic meter:

Again, I watch my cousin Greg watch MTV inside his home.
He makes fun of the Hip-hop videos from the couch he rides alone.
Snug in the cushion of his cackling he forgets his looming doubts.
He has relied on this for years; you will not yank the carpet out.

The complexity of his sentence structures along with the obscured themes hidden deep beneath contemporary imagery emphasizes the complexity of adolescence and what it might really mean to be an “angsty teen.” By turning what could be crude or cliched imagery into poetics, he shows that this isn’t just some rant, rather it is a deeply thought out reflection on the grittier parts of life and how everyday scenarios (like an encounter between two cats or watching MTV) can factor into these issues that people think they understand.

Off of the same album (my personal favorite of their body of work), the song “The Futile” offers the same sort of combination of complicated language mingling with the raw emotion of the instrumentals and Bemis’ voice. In the opening of the song he starts:

Shit!
Nothing makes sense, so I won’t think about it. I’ll go with the ignorance.
Eat, sleep, fuck and flee; in four words, that’s me.
I am full of indifference.

I don’t want to clutter this post with direct quotation, but I think the lyrics often speak for themselves, reaching each listener on their own level of personal experience with the feelings that they are wrestling with throughout the song. The climactic moment of the song arguably comes to a head at a suicidal moment, though he never explicitly says he’s going to kill himself in explicit terms:

I’m eating rat poison for dinner.
Pull the cord from the phone. I am dining alone,
Tonight, rat poison for dinner.
Pull the cord from the phone. I am dining alone,
So goodnight.

Something about his use of totally non poetic words in these truly telling metaphorical and imagistic ways gives listeners a way of really rethinking and grappling with their own personal sense of these complex emotions. Everyone has felt anger, angst, frustration, maybe even suicidal at a point in their lives, but these tired and worn out adjectives are given fresh meaning by the syntactical feats of Say Anything. “So goodnight” can say so many other things than can a straightforward suicidal goodbye. Here, language is taking on the huge task of representing an arguably cliched theme for this genre of music and making it both personal and relatable at the same time.

This just scratches the surface of all of the things I love about this band. The way they use instrumentals to accompany these lyrics adds to the overall effect in a way that reading these lyrics on the web cannot convey.  At the end of the day, whatever way in which music speaks to you, finding ways of articulating and sharing this sense of “good” can open up a world of opportunities for others and yourself to experience music in a new way.

The Little Black Box of Classical Music

I have never been good at saying no. Whether it has been to a second helping of chocolate cake or to a role in a “low commitment” show, I always end up end up feigning remorse and replying with a resounding yes. My capacity for always saying yes has given me numerous exceptional opportunities but it has also resulted in 18 credit semesters while working 2 jobs, performing in 5 shows and 1 full length film. Somehow, with all the craziness of my schedule, I managed 8 hours of sleep (almost) every night and the illusion of a social life.

Lots of people think I am crazy for doing as much as I do, but every now and then, I meet someone who gets it. Someone who isn’t just impressed by my time management skills but understands that my quest to become a true Renaissance woman has a greater purpose than simply a check mark on my list of life goals. Last night I met one of those people.

Yesterday night I had a coaching (musical rehearsal with pianist trained to work in a collaborative role) with an extremely respected and experienced pianist to prepare for a concert that I am singing in tonight. As we worked, we came upon the subject of musicality and expression, and how so many young singers lack a connection to the text or the ability to express that connection, obscuring the true beauty of the piece with a pretty melodic line that holds no meaning for them or the audience.

Her frustration with the modern student of classical music was this: that we all too often fall into this little black box where Beethoven is king, our loyalty to our teacher is unquestionable and we never bother to look outside our classical world to see and experience things “that won’t help our careers”. What she said the students don’t realize is that those things that don’t directly help or hurt their career colors who they are as a person and as a musician; that the difference between someone who sings a pretty melodic line and someone who connects with the audience are the experiences that they have had outside that little black box. So perhaps my experience in an oil refinery or pageants won’t be my stepping stone to the MET, but they color who I am and the music that I make every day which is enough to keep me saying yes to each and every opportunity.

From Bauhütte to Bauhaus

The other day, I was surveyed about the recent renovations of university residence halls. The questions varied from “how do students use the public spaces?” to “which amenities are inhibiting the academic success of residents?” By and large, my responses were positive. I believe the residence halls at this university are top-tier–clean, functional, and beautiful. Of course there are always areas for improvement, but the general concept of the renovations is on point. I started to think about why this was. All of them seemed to embrace modern design elements–such as high ceilings, stone floors, light colors, and lots of glass. For those unfamiliar with the new buildings, here’s a representative (-ish) picture:

Alice Lloyd Umoja Lounge

Of course, anything defined as “modern” is  appealing in a contemporary sense–as it implies new, current, fresh, “in style,” etc. But a common fear is thus: Does modern design last in the long haul? Surely the style must go out of date. I’ve thought about this for a while, and I’m starting to think this isn’t the case. What we know to be modern design has a very functional nature associated it with it–it often strips to the essentials and focuses on the materials used. It abides by the “form follows function” principle–triggered by the birth of Bauhaus in the early 20th century.

Bauhaus design was sparked as a design principle in 1919  by the Staatliches Bauhaus (School of Building) in Germany. The design institute was focused on employing art for practical purposes–breathing beauty into the mundane. Furniture and buildings for the everyday person became more accessible and aesthetically pleasing. Daily interactions were streamlined, inline with the idea that people would be empowered by this ubiquitous support. The most current embodiment of these principles is in the digital realm. Most web design follows these principles, turning the fundamentalist web of the 1990s into the slick user interfaces of today.

But where did Bauhaus design stem? The focus on beautiful, facilitated mundanity was appropriated from the mason’s guild of the Bauhütte. This collective of journeymen took part in the design of Gothic cathedrals. This trade did not focus on design for everyday items and activities, and this is where the Bauhaus school diverged.

Bauhutte

Cathedrals, in their very design, focus on something this is above and beyond our daily existence. The spires of the buildings point toward the heavens, illustrating how our collective efforts on earth are directed toward our Creator. We can only receive support and empowerment from a force this is outside ourselves. This is the belief held by the Baumeisters, and their cathedrals illustrate it. The Bauhaus school, on the other hand, liked the idea of design affording empowerment, but manipulated the design principles to not support a higher power but personal power. It was an agnostic perspective that drove innovative design into many facets of our existence. While much of modern design has lost touch with this idea of user empowerment–we often design “modernly” to conform to trends–the benefits of good design in pragmatic circumstances has pushed us further. We’ve accomplished greater feats technologically and (arguably) socially than previous civilizations, and a small part of this can be attributed to the democratizing force of Bauhaus design. In order for this school of thought to be effective, though, we must not lose sight of the power of design. It should not simply make something beautiful. It should be merely pragmatic. It should strive to change a user’s thoughts–to become empowered and respect the power of others, seen and unseen.

The residence hall renovations at Michigan may have been a simple conformity to design trends. But maybe they could be leading to something greater.