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Last week I missed my blog post. It was opening night for one of the shows that I am in this semester and all my engineering homework was due, so I used one of my allotted skips for the semester and neglected to post the blog I had begun to write. As I prepared to write this week’s blog I thought that I should acknowledge the fact that I had missed last weeks but couldn’t help but wonder: Did anyone notice? And does anyone care?

Our culture is that of continuous performance. As we sit staring at our screens, we perform for each other debating if a conversational quip is clever enough to merit a Facebook status or a picture is sufficiently filtered to hide imperfection before posting. Breaking 20 “likes” results in repeated behavior while less than five results in hiding the miscalculated post from your timeline. The immediate show of approval or disapproval from a removed audience via technology such as Facebook has brought new meaning to the saying “All the world is a stage”. Previously, only actors could stand up in front of a large group, separated only by the 4th wall, and perform receiving immediate feedback through boisterous applause or deafening silence. Now the internet allows us to present ourselves to the world and receive our applause in the forms of comments, shares and likes.

Being an artist within the performing arts I live for the applause. There is nothing more disheartening than performing to a dead house which never laughs, cries, coughs or claps because you begin to wonder if there is anyone out there who understands what you are trying to say or if you are alone amongst the masses.

Working as a blogger has been like performing to a dead house. There is little to no response to what I write and at first it was depressing because I spend a lot of time and energy attempting to craft meaningful posts. Yet, as I have continued to write I have come to appreciate the difference between performance and physical art. Performance art is about saying something to someone and developing a relationship with them while physical art is about putting something into the world simply because you have something to say. So even if no one is reading my blog the fact that I’m doing it – putting my thoughts out there for the world to see – is enough for me and I can learn to live without the applause.

 

 

Recently, after having found out that the State Theatre would be playing Wes Anderson’s latest creation, The Grand Budapest Hotel, I have drifted into a train of thought where I almost exclusively, when thinking about film, ponder about the various quirks of a typical Wes Anderson film.

He is certainly a director who has quite successfully developed his own niche in terms of style, very similar to how Woody Allen has created his own stylistic foundation. However, within Wes Anderson’s originality there is of course an amalgam of influences, yet, his ability to shape these influences into his very own creation is by in large where his individuality in the film world lies.

While browsing through www.thisiscolossal.com, a website that I recommend when you want to burn some time while looking at very interesting art, I found a post featuring various supercuts of certain visual styles of certain directors, including Wes Anderson. I found this very interesting so I wanted to share it.

Here are the rest of the videos made by the same person.

http://kogonada.com/

Just wanna share with you guys some gorgeous fashion shoots from the exhibition, Papier Glacé (Coming into Fashion: a Century of Photography), at Palais Galliera in Paris.

Papier Glacé, literally means “glossy paper.” The exhibit features fashion photography in Condé Nast magazines over the past century taken by famous photographers of different decades like Henry Clarke, George Platt Lynes, Norman Pakinson, Deborah Turbeville, and Ellen von Urwerth. The exhibit is still on view until May 25th. 

Norman Parkinson, Vogue Anglais (Aug. 1957), Cover

George Platt Lynes, Vogue Americain (Oct. 1946), La Danseuse Tamara Toumanova

Henry Clarke, Vogue Americain (Sep. 1955), Anne Saint Marie

Irving penn, Vogue Americain (1949), Jean Patchett

Jerry Schatzberg, Vogue Americain (Dec. 1958), Betsy Pickering on Wall Street

If you haven’t heard Moroccan music, but like American music, then I suggest you don’t plunge yourself into a bingefest of Moroccan beats, but rather try the gateway drug of Hindi Zahra.

At first listen, she doesn’t sound like someone who comes from a place full of sand, scarab beetles, and countless Kasbahs. She sounds more like someone from a place with Monet paintings, men in tight pants, and women with multiple bellyrings.

I recommend Hindi Zahra not only because of her smooth, Billie Holliday-esque vocals, but also because she represents the Euro-African culture that Morocco is known for. Also, for non polyglots, most of her songs are in English, with a few flavorful Berber lyrics thrown into songs like Imik Si Mik.

Born in Morocco, Zahra moved to Paris at age 15 where worked at the Louvre/wrote music. Not a bad coming of age period, if you ask me. Her style has been described as ‘jazz-blues-gypsy’, which is pretty accurate. Her swinging guitar riffs give just enough structure for her voice to glide through and reach her listener’s ears.

Her songs are great cafe fare.

If you enjoy Zahra, another wonderful product of Moroccan and Parisian culture is Malika Zarra, whose influences are more Bobby McFerrin than Billie Holliday, but the results are just as soothing and smooth.

Both women are chilled out introductions to Moroccan music and incorporate similar Berber strings in their bass lines.