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The Bitch is Back

Rachel Leave a comment

Great news everyone, after a significant dry period with no new releases, witty, snarky, and very British Lily Allen is back with a new single. Her gritty and often scathing lyrics put to catchy pop tunes have always been my needed break from the trash circulating on top 10 radio. I don’t need to hear another love song, party song, or song about starting from nothing – that’s all been done. Finally we have been blessed with something topical. In “Hard Out Here” Lily Allen satirizes the absurd and highly sexualized music videos of artists like Robin Thicke and Miley Cyrus, even the title of the song puns on Three 6 Mafia’s “Hard Out Here for a Pimp.” Every lyric oozes with either sharp sarcasm or harsh realism while her video is the compilation of the elements found in the vast majority of music videos out today: half naked girls, a fancy car, champagne flying, and booty shaking. The sad part is, a lot of people truly don’t get it and think she’s just another money seeking sell out. Well, I beg to differ. Lily Allen is a breath of fresh air and her song is a needed wake up call to mass media. The frightening decline in strong female role models in pop culture and the constant glorification of the male conquest makes me question when things are going to change. Every single day the media teaches us how we’re supposed to act. It teaches us to judge each other based on unrealistic expectations and to hate ourselves as we are. Some call Lily Allen a bitch, some call her just like everyone else, but I call her spot on. So far she’s the only one I’ve seen put her dissatisfaction with the pop culture into such blunt terms. If the video makes you uncomfortable, it’s doing its job because what you’re looking at is all of the same elements that we’ve seen a thousand times before.

This whole project reminds me of the artist Manet. Classical and neoclassical painters had been painting reclining female nudes for centuries and these types of paintings went on to win contests and be purchased by some of the most affluent aristocrats in Paris (often including royalty). But when Manet came out with his Olympia in 1863, everyone was appalled. Unlike the classical nudes, which often came with a mythological background story and portrayed a perfected female form, Olympia was just a little too close to the reality of Paris’ erotic subculture of prostitution and brothels.

Manet’s Olympia 1863

In the same way that Manet takes an unquestioned form of art and with a touch of realism makes it into a statement about society, Lily Allen uses the obscenities of pop culture to call attention to the absurdity of the way in which we let the media run rampant. I definitely encourage everyone to watch the new video and I sincerely hope that the combination of the lyrics and the highly sexualized images can at least get you thinking about some of these prominent issues of racial and sexual exploitation in the media.

Lily Allen Hard Out Here Preach.

For those less tuned into the pop scene check out Miley Cyrus’ “We Can’t Stop” and Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” (the balloon scene is in direct response to this) to get a feel for the material she is satirizing.

Music . . . wait for it . . . that makes me *gyrate*

Taylor Leave a comment

So: I’m a hot mess.

Over the past 4 years I’ve been that gay boy who prides himself for wearing the “legalize gay” t-shirt, who loves gay marriage like its creme brulee that people are giving out for free when you’ve run out of money for the week, and I’ve projected myself to mature in a suburban wet dream of picket upon picket fences. HOWEVER, no more. My queerness, thankfully, disrupts these dreadful past faults of mine. I’m wary of all institutions (particularly marriage), I hate the normalization of my sexuality and how its being co-opted into moderate liberal agendas, but I still love creme brulee. That thick, hard, sugary crust of joy on top of the most deliciously creamy and sensuous tasty yum-yum is something I dream about.

Or listen to.Recently released, new music has really made me feel like I become a creme brulee.

Two cd’s, in particular, have really got me moving. I listen to both of them every day: when I wake up, at the gym, on my way to class, on my way home from class, when I study, cook, eat–they are on almost 24/7.

(Shamefully:) Lady Gaga’s Artpop;
ArtPop

and (Pridefully:) M.I.A.’s Matangi.
MIA

I admit. Gaga is someone I have grown to hate, to love, to hate again, and (shhhh) love again. I saw one of her earliest mainstream performances on the TV show, “So You Think You Can Dance,” where I was solidly NOT a fan–this was 2008. Her album, The Fame appeared, I resisted. She got more famous, I resisted. And then one moment later I was doing the full choreography from “Bad Romance” at my High School Prom (#dark). When Gaga traps you, you find yourself in an unavoidable love game. Years went by and I fought for Gaga, even through that bullshit song, “Born this Way.” EVEN THROUGH THAT. But then when she (or someone) leaked “Aura” and I found her all over tumblr traipsing around the world in a burqa (for fashion) I almost lit all of my Gaga things on fire. I was offended and outraged and so confused. And then Artpop came out.

There is something so brilliant about this album–it’s so weird. I am and am in the process of becoming more and more eccentric everyday and so this space-sounding, electro heavy, sexual album of glory speaks to my soul. “G.U.Y.” is not only catchy but fucks with gender insofar as she reverses the gender of her and her male partner while affirming certain aspects of her identity: “I (Gaga) wanna be your ‘Guy’/’G. U. Y.’” includes her being both a guy and being a “girl under you” while, at other points of the song, she calls her partner a “G. I. R. L.” Now, there is nothing too exciting about this as a concept but that gender confusion, mistaking, crossing, etc., happening in this song is so refreshing. (Or acts a justification for me to like it, whatever . . . ) Similarly, “Sexxx Dreams” (the current song I wake up to) is talking about Gaga more or less seducing the girlfriend of some guy. I love that Gaga talks about her sexuality and her attraction to women in a sexual way (rather than some oblique reference). “Donatella” makes me want to dance on a table while champagne/sweat/glitter is pouring from a disco ball. Yes.

And then there is M.I.A. I first did not like or understand M.I.A. “Paper Planes” came out in 2007 when I was a sophomore in high school. But as I got older I rediscovered her and heavily listened to her Maya album. M.I.A. fully entered my life (she’s here to stay), again, this past July. A friend offered to drive me, and some friends, to the M.I.A. concert in Royal Oak and I thought, “yeah, should be fun.” When I left the concert I couldn’t because I was a pile of love, feelings, and desire for M.I.A. and her music to never stop.

M. M. M. I. I. A.

When Matangi came out I was instantly hooked. Every song is perfect. “Y.A.L.A.” and the line, “bombs go off when I enter the building,” is what I listen to on repeat when I do interval sprints at the gym. “Double Bubble Trouble” is my everything song. “Bad Girls” and “Bring The Noize” will be my anthems for years to come. Every song pushes the boundary of what music is supposed to do and so I don’t see her music ever going out of “style/fashion.” At least not for me.

But not only is M.I.A. aesthetic perfection embodied. She is spot on with her politics, in my opinion, about life, which can be summed up in this beautiful article (http://noisey.vice.com/blog/mia-matangi-ayesha-a-siddiqi). She is ironic, she is direct, she is everything she needs to be about discussing the global south, western hegemony, feminism, etc.

Now, while Gaga’s album might be good for those stereotypical “rage” nights, parties, even days, M.I.A.’s album clearly wins and has me dancing as I party, burn structures of oppression, fight for liberation, write my thesis, and forge a future for myself and others outside of the void of undergrad life.

The Dual Degree Dilemma

Alexandria Strother Leave a comment

The best part of being a double major is its function as the ultimate Trump Card in the subtle game of Who Has The Most Work To Do? that we all play on a daily basis. Hanging out with engineers complaining about the 370 project they just started and is due Sunday? Mention the 12 hours a week you spend in rehearsals for non-class related projects. Musicians complaining about having to write a three page paper for Musicology? Politely excuse yourself to go study for the Semiconductor Device Fundamentals midterm next week.

The worst part of being a double major? That moment after you have first met someone and they ask you, “What are you majoring in?” You reply, and at first the look of surprise on their face makes you feel great about your choice and the sacrifices you make to handle the required course load. But then, the criticism starts. From both musicians and engineers I have been told that because I am a double major there is no way I can be successful in either career. From peers who claim that I do not care about music because I “have no desire to be the conductor of a small town church choir located somewhere in the Bible Belt”, to faculty advisers who would not help me choose the best technical electives until I had “dropped my other major and was serious about engineering”, there are few people who genuinely believe that my choice to double major was a good and valid decision.

Earlier today, a professor told me “Double majors are for the undecided” upon overhearing my conversation with another student, and this is one of the first critiques I actually agree with. I am undecided. Though I am a junior, I do not know what I want to do when I graduate. Do I want to work? If so, do I work as a musician or as an engineer? Do I want to go to grad school? If so, do I pursue a Masters in Music, Engineering, Business or Law; all of which I have seriously considered within the past month? Even within Electrical Engineering: do I want to focus on Digital Signal Processing or Power?

So yes, I am undecided, but I do not think that is a bad thing. In a world as volatile as ours, who is to say what any of us will be doing in 10 years? My indecisive choice to not choose means that I would be happy in either field. By pursuing higher education in both, I am affording myself a larger scope of opportunities later in life rather than limiting myself when I have demonstrated that I am perfectly capable of managing both majors.

It was Albert Einstein who said “If at first the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it” and yes, a double major in Vocal Performance and Electrical Engineering is unconventional at best, and an absurd waste of time at worst. But, until the day comes when my performance in one field is negatively impacted by my involvement in the other, I do not see the folly in my refusal to choose, rather, hope for others to recognize its merit.

A Style is No Means to a [Tr]end

Justin & Ersun Leave a comment

Not only in fashion, but in technology, language, behavior, and design, there is a clear distinction between trends and style. Trends are always changing, but style is timeless. Specifically in fashion, trends change with the seasons. New lines of clothing roll out in advertisements as the trees lose their leaves. As celebrities set new bars and companies put out new lines, trends dictate the decisions of society. Perhaps a ploy of a consumerism, trends keep people spending their time and money on conforming to the latest change. New smart phones slip into our pockets with trivial changes in speed or new aesthetic value to the interface, new shoes slip onto our feet as the laces make minuscule alterations, and new words slip between our lips as Internet and TV icons develop fresh lingo. There are stages to this construct, from ignition to burning out. Initially, influential members of society, be them celebrities or anonymous people we cross paths with, set the trend. They update the ever-changing indicators of what is relevant. These individuals or groups hold an incredible power of suasion, and once they define the new “in”–be it with intention or not–the new line is set for the masses. The second stage in the life-cycle of the trend is acceptance. Once adopted by the general public–or a specific community–the trend becomes commonplace. Those who embrace it are seen as aware, and those who do not are irrelevant. The third stage of the trend is death. Trends typically have a short life, but the process of death may vary in length. Sometimes, trends may perish overnight, but in others, the death may be a slow process of decay. Those who are trendy know when a trend is on the decline and jump ship to avoid the look of ignorance. This is the stigma trends create.

Style deflects this.

Styles is a matter of personal choice. True style can withstand the test of time and conditions, and while it may be influenced by both, it is dependent on neither. Style, be it in any industry–fashion, behavior, or design–is a form of expression and art and something that is eternal. It is an outward display of personality and originality and gives a unique edge over the masses who conform to the current trends. Styles cannot be “out,” and therefore, cannot ruin an image. In a broader sense, it is an immortality and speaks louder and stronger than any trend. While trends are means to an end, style is a sustained source of identity. Developing a style is a practice of developing character and forming something that cannot be destroyed. Although many styles may be created in physical mediums–things that can be lost or destroyed–the spirit behind the idea lives on.

Invest in style, it doesn’t go ‘out.’

Functionality Over Taste

Jeannie Marie Leave a comment

This weekend, I attended a conference with a group called InterVarsity, which took place in enemy territory. That’s right, I went to East Lansing, home of MSU. Besides the fact that I was unable to wear anything from the maize side of my closet and I saw a LOT of green, I noticed a few things about the hotel I stayed in.

Pointed out to me by my (new) friend Mary, art student extraordinaire, the conference center and hotel was beautiful. From the way the sinks were designed, to the calming waterfall welcoming guests into what will hopefully be a home away from home, the layout was appealing, stylish, and modern. I noticed small touches, such as the way the comfortable chairs were placed near large windows, were the sunlight could filter in and provide a pleasant atmosphere when having a chat with friends. I enjoyed the placement of a revolving door, optional next to the regular door yet still an instillation that made the institution feel like a hotel. Yes, as Mary said, the architecture was great.

So that makes it artful, right?

When going to wash my hands, I had no idea where to place the complimentary bar of soap. When I found it could be tucked between the faucet handle and the raised edge of the sink, I felt proud…until it slipped of back into the sink.

Put on, slip off.

Put on, slip off.

The fountain, while gorgeous, spanned two stories. The water fell from the main lobby into the garage floor, into a pool with…what kind of sculpture? Really, what is that supposed to be? Did they actually pay money for that?

And why in the world would I want to look at a bale of hay right before I’m supposed to slip into pleasant dreams filled with friendship, laughter and rainbows? Hay is not particularly calming to me. In fact, I really don’t like hay (too many encounters on Rodeo Day. This is what I get for growing up in Texas).

All of these things culminated into a single question that both my friend Mary and another friend of mine Dean posed: Does art HAVE to have a reason?

In this case, I would solidly argue with yes, since a hotel is primarily functional rather than artful. I’m not sure if I necessarily agree all the time, but every time I’ve encountered art, either in audio or visual form, it’s made a clear statement. Deep? Maybe not. But a clear idea, theme, statement, whatever you have it? Yeah.

So I’m not sure what statement the bale of hay was trying to make. But hopefully, it was making a statement, and I just happened to miss it.

Zhan Wang: “My Personal Universe”

AgnesG Leave a comment
My Personal Universe, Zhan Wang
My Personal Universe, Zhan Wang

If you could have a superpower, what would it be? For me, I always wish to be able to stop time, when all my surroundings would freeze and only I could move. And this wish periodically gets stronger when it is the last minute before my exams or before due dates of my papers. Just kidding. Nonetheless, freezing time is definitely a cool superpower to have. As you can expect, just like my other childhood fantasies, the existence of superpowers also got denied by my science teachers back in primary school as I grew. However, an exhibition that I saw in 2012 by the Chinese sculptor, Zhan Wang, made my wish come true by showing the freezing moment of the explosion of a rock.

The exhibition was called “My Personal Universe” and it was held in Ullens Center for Contemporary Art in Beijing. When I entered the gallery, I was surprised to find myself surrounded by floating and shimmering rock fragments, which were hung from invisible wires. On the ceiling, the ground, and the four walls in the gallery, there were six large screens showing video-clips of the explosion from six different angles. I felt like entering a space where time stopped; however, the videos continuously played in super-slow-motion on the screens kept me aware of what was happening around me.

According to the artist, by suspending rock fragments throughout the gallery, he was trying to recreate the birth of the universe. The explosion reminds people of the big bang theory. To do this, the artist did record the explosion of a boulder on-site from multiple angles. After that, he brought all the fragments back to his studio and made stainless steel replicas of these fragments. He installed these replicas in the gallery in a way that each fragments moved along its own trajectory, and finally formed this fascinating scene of the explosion.

I was amazed by the idea of recreating the start of the universe, and the beauty of the destruction itself. I felt as if I was experiencing the explosion, and I could imagine the tension between all the rock fragments and me. They were moving toward me. They were about to smash my face. However they stopped before they got too close, leaving me standing in the middle of the rocks adrift in the space and marveling at the beauty of this apocalyptic moment.