Category: Uncategorized

Look Towards The Light

Taylor Leave a comment

It’s about that time of the year, or, perhaps, way past that moment when Fall darkness sets in. I get home from class and work in the dark, I study and write in the dark, I socialize in the dark, and during the day (which is usually dark because Michigan) I’m kept inside tiny rooms within more rooms within more rooms. Life in winter is kafkaesque. Work seems to pile up around me and I’m overwhelmed. But there is something else going on entirely under my skin.

I used to romanticize the winter melancholia that would set in every year. I would feel terrible and love it. Wear moody clothing, quote Kierkegaard and Sartre about existential dread, and drink pots and pots of coffee so I could be not only be sad but also be ecstatically sad, performatively sad. My grades always seemed to suffer only a bit near the end of Fall semesters, which I attributed to the end of term finish line haze of terror; I usually ended up not exactly in fights but friendships always had more tension; and I would leave most social events angry. And then I’d be alone. And then angrier. I would look at my work and realize that I had no motivation to muster and that motivation seemed to exist only outside, in the leaves freshly fallen, decaying.

Last weekend, in particular, I felt I had to internalize “I had fun” so that when people asked me “How was your weekend?” I wouldn’t reply “real shitty.” People respond poorly to negative things, or I find that people build on the negativity, and I didn’t need more bad reactions. Little things got in the way, moments that were unexpected set me off into a chain of dizzying apathy, I began to really sink into the sadness and “thrive” there (aka more of me convincing that I’m fine). And then after watching Scandal on Saturday (which is a whole other thing that needs to be unpacked) I realized that I was NOT okay.

Now I had been to CAPS (Counseling and Psychological Services) before. After two semi-failed attempts at having therapy sessions, “Why do you feel this way?” “Well Heidegger in Being and Time  says this . . . and then Nietzsche really compliments this by . . . and the existential void, no? THE VOID.” In the end all of my problems seemed to come up philosophy (which is partially beautiful I have to say). But another factor that cropped up was the time of the year. Fall-into-Winter and Winter were dreadful to live through and then Spring and Summer were pretty much fantastic.

Adventuring to CAPS for different reasons also helped me be aware of the Wellness Zone, which, I have to say, is currently saving my happiness.

SUN SQUARES. These (roughly) two feet by two feet fluorescent-but-not faux sunlight containers that flood your body and eyes with an impenetrable light seem a bit terrifying. The Wellness Zone, in general, has soft mood lighting that is pretty much stomped out by this (amazing) light box. I feel like I’m a flower, or some weird vegetation, or some creature of the future.

sunsquarepls2_NoBkgrd

I have heard of SAD (seasonal affective disorder) before this moment, but I was not only angered at the passive aggressiveness of the name, “oh you’re sad, aw it’s the season *pinches cheek and shines a flashlight on you*.” And I have an aversion to a lot of mental health diagnoses that is due to, in part, the medical-industrial complex, corporatization and pathologization of health, etc. So, while I may not technically be diagnosed with anything, these sun boxes are extinguishing my autumntime/wintertime/no-sunlight-time overwhelming, life crippling, perpetual state of mourning.

But I wouldn’t be a humanities senior if I didn’t stare into, or just slightly off of, these boxes without imagining them framed in a museum, or put in hallways, or dorms, or classrooms. All of health I have problems with, especially mental health, because most services or areas of help are tucked away (3rd floor union, Wellness Zone in the back) out of reach/sight and they aren’t often advertised (well or enough). What if we could hang these modern art pieces, because to me that’s partially what they are, all around campus during the winter and flood everyone (albeit this is problematic) with artificial sunlight. A bit much, no? maybe not?

What does it mean for a square of designed stuff to cause happiness? Or destroy sadness? I mean, I partially don’t believe it still– but it works. So what’s to say? “Well this artwork affects me so much that I just have an overwhelming sense of OK.” If I were an artist, this would be my art.

When talking with friends, however, when they ask me how I’m doing this week, I’ve replied, “THESE SUNLIGHT BOXES OF JOY.” It gets people thinking and many have reached out for more information. When I feel this way its a problem, but when all of my friends act this way and try to unpack their feelings, its overwhelming, problematic, and we need the sun to come back.
This experience for me has been life-changing. Every morning I go to CAPS on the third floor of the union, next to where I work (Spectrum Center), and read or write (like now) in front of a light box. Everyday I leave a bit giggly (sunlight always makes me WAY happy) to live my life.

It’s important to talk about success. It’s important to share success.

And my success is feeling amazing.

 

Paint Your Face and Prepare for War

elahehia Leave a comment

Dip the brush in the white, olive, brown, black of your foundation,
And paint your face and prepare for war
Paint it well to frighten your opponents,
Your mascara is your shield,
Your blush is why you fight,
Your eyeliner is what you fight with,
Your red lipstick, your war paint
The colors on your face are the colors you wear to battle
Wear them proudly.

And whatever you do, do not spear those who do not paint their faces remember that those who do not paint their faces are also fighting the battle with you.

An Icelandic Audio Odyssey, Finally We Are No One

Justin & Ersun Leave a comment

Before I understood maps or geothermal currents, I pictured Greenland as a land of trees, plants, and vegetation–greenery–and Iceland to be a frozen tundra, frigid and white–icy. This naivety led me to believe the opposite. The namesake of Greenland and Iceland are almost polar opposites, for while they are both near the North Pole, their climates are immensely varied. Iceland is a land of extremes–from volcanic thermal heat to icy glacial coldness. Despite the extremes, the small island has a fairly moderate and consistent temperature. It is a beautiful place filled with many natural wonders. It is a place for the imagination to wander and reflect. It is only appropriate that the nation has produced artists representing this personality.

múm is an Icelandic experimental music group. Adopting a dreamlike quality with their unique concoction of sounds creates a refreshing brand of music that resonates with an imaginative spirit. In their 2002 album, Loksins Erum Við Engin (Finally We Are No One), this creative sound pushes the listeners’ thoughts to places often untouched or forgotten, such as the ability to truly imagine and reflect from within oneself. Finally We Are No One is a playful odyssey of the subconscious. As as a whole, the simple but unique form of the art and music is found in the sound. The childlike voices reflect the peaceful innocence of exploratory thoughts. Like the naivety of a child, such as my ignorance surrounding the ecological states of Greenland and Iceland, the album celebrates these virgin thoughts, not tampered by adult actions and concerns.

finallywearenothing

When listening, the album elicits a unique feeling that is not often excited by music. It is not a “pump up” sound or nostalgic tune or bluesy act of sad emotions, but a gentle touch on more tender feelings. It draws upon the small things, subtle details and little sounds. It is pure and difficult to express in another medium. While the soft voices convey the pureness of innocence, the pattering of varied sounds embodies the minimal amount of emotion necessary to touch the listener. The slow cadence of the music is calming, putting the listener at peace to encourage introspection. It balances delicately on a small wave of feeling that moves between the small troubles and ripples of hope. It is ideal for reflection and cannot fit in varied forms, which leaves it appropriately perfect.

Finally We Are No One strips away the titles that  border one’s subconscious. Removing the clutter from the mind, it lets a gentle wave wash over tender thoughts and carry them to new shores.

Scheherazade

Jeannie Marie Leave a comment

Ever since I can remember, my mom has been one of the primary influences when it comes to things I like. Now that I’m older, I see it’s because I’m basically her when she was a teenager, just in a different era (and maybe a little bit nerdier). But when I was younger, she definitely molded my interests through the things she took me to do and see.

If it hasn’t become clear yet, I’m not from Michigan, but from the mysterious land far, far away known as Houston, Texas. And as most people don’t know, Houston has a thriving and honestly quite amazing arts community.

So this environment, paired with the ingenuity of my mom, you get me: by all accounts, a child hipster. She took me to the children’s museum, to the ballet, she even bought a season at the Hobby Theatre so I could see Cinderella and The Lion King (both amazing performances, by the way). I participated in church choir, and had a strict music program in school that included mandatory extracurricular activities. I still remember going to see Wizard of Oz when I was maybe 4 or 5 years old at the Miller Outdoor Theatre, and being amazed (and slightly scared) as the munchkins came out during intermission to talk to the children and interact with them in their brightly colored costumes.

But out of all those experiences, this weekend, one appeared vividly in my mind.

My mom took me to see the Houston Symphony at Jones Hall one time when I was very little, maybe 6 or 7 years old. I absolutely loved it, and after that time I started listening to the classical channel on my little radio before I went to bed, because the music was so calming. So when my school announced a field trip to go see the Symphony, I was thrilled, because I actually enjoyed this music, not to mention by this time I was probably taking piano lessons.

But that’s not the response I got from my friends.

“Why do we have to go to the symphony?”

“This music is so boring.”

“Everyone’s going to fall asleep.”

I tried to tell them otherwise. “I listen to this music every night” I said. “It helps me get to sleep.”

“Yeah because it’s so boring.”

So while, truthfully, most of my friends fell asleep, I sat, pretending to be bored, but actually engaged in everything that was going on.

This particular instance stands out to me because it was one of the last times I’ve seen a symphony. I’ve been to plenty of plays since that had an orchestra, and I listen to movie scores all the time to help me concentrate on my homework, but it’s not quite the same.

So a few weeks ago, when I found out my friend had a concert with Michigan Pops, I knew I had to go. This weekend, I attended AquaPops, the water-themed musical experience. And I was put right back into my memories. I felt like I was back in Houston, in Jones Hall, where I first heard what music could actually sound like when it came from such beautiful and ancient instruments.

Adam Young, the real name of the ever-famous (or infamous) Owl City, once had a blog that has since been taken down, where he would muse about life, love, and his own music. On this blog one night, he talked about music without words. Specifically, he was referring to electronic, the genre he’s most commonly associated with, which quite often is just a composition of notes rather than an actual song with lyrics. But generally, it applies to all music without words. He said “I find that by listening to material that neither suggests nor blatantly tells me how to think or feel…well, suddenly I can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone. In that moment, dreams are no longer hovering discouragingly out of reach, but instead are made real and vivid, floating right above my head. That’s an invigorating feeling.”

And honestly, I couldn’t have summed up that entire concert any better myself. I found myself lost within the music, finding my way through the notes that were being played. With every pluck of the cello, with every movement of the bow, I was wandering, collecting the pieces of a story that was waiting to be told by me. And yet that story was so completely different from the stories of my friends next to me.

That story is beautiful, and that story that I heard Sunday night is the reason why I will take any opportunity to go to the symphony again.

 

Notes: Shout out to Arts at Michigan for getting me into the Pops concert for free through their Passport to the Arts (okay, that was a shameless plug, I admit).

Also, shout out to the 1st Chair Violinist and Concertmaster who probably won’t read this but nevertheless had an absolutely stunning solo in one of the best songs of the night, “Scheherazade.”

Toulouse Lautrec at FIA

AgnesG Leave a comment

The past weekend I visited the Exhibition called Toulouse-Lautrec and His World in Flint Institute of Arts. The art history group I am in had been planning on this field trip since several weeks ago, and we were choosing between this Flint exhibition and the exhibition of early modern Japanese prints in Toledo Museum of Art. Although I love French modern art and the artist Toulouse-Lautrec, I preferred to go to the Toledo one because I was always intrigued by those delicate Japanese prints and Japonisme ( the great influence of Japanese arts and culture) on impressionism. Also in terms of the museums themselves, TMA is better known and it held the super awesome Manet exhibition last year, so I had a higher expectation for the quality of its exhibition. However, after visiting the Flint exhibit, I have to say I was amazed and impressed by the exemplary posters and lithographs of Toulouse-Lautrec.

Toulouse Lautrec
The silhouette of Toulouse Lautrec at the entrance

At the entry wall of the exhibition, there’s a black life-size silhouette of Toulouse-Lautrec on the wall. I felt as if I was standing next to the actual artist. I was really impressed by this lovely design not only because I found the height of Toulouse-Lautrec less than 5 feet ( he ceased to grow after he injured his thigh bones), but also because the silhouette was so typical to be associated with Toulouse-Lautrec’s style, which endowed me a sense of familiarity with the artist and his artworks before I actually walked through the exhibition later on.

La Revue Blanche    May Belfort

The most representative works of Toulouse-Lautrec, without doubt, would be his posters and paintings depicting Parisian nightlife. The posters he made for the can-can dancers and cabaret singers elevated the stature and increased the popularity of many rising performers, such as Jane Avril, Yvette Guilbert, May Belfort, and la Goulue. The exhibition showcased posters he made for these female performers, as well as Aristide Bruant, the best-known male carabet singer in Paris back that time. When making portraits, he often captures the most prominent features of the figures, and he prefers to paint the contours and silhouette of the figures. These later developed into logo-like images that could be easily identified as certain performers. An anecdote I read on the label was that Yvette Guilbert was unsatisfied with the portrait Toulouse-Lautrec made for her because he made her seem ugly. However, this “ugly” portrait proved to be a huge success which made her famous. The image below shows Yvette Guilbert performing on stage, wearing her signature long black gloves.

Yvette Guilbert
Yvette Guilbert and her long black gloves

Surprisingly, the exhibit also juxtaposed two Japanese wood-block prints with Toulouse-Lautrec’s May Belfort to show how Japanese prints affected his art style. I’m glad to take this bonus.

Toulouse Lautrec dressed in kimono
Toulouse Lautrec dressed in kimono

Printing the Future

Joshua Kochis Leave a comment

Sick of running to the store for spare parts during DIY crafts hour? Sad because your favorite shirt has been sitting in the closet for months without a complete set of matching buttons? Wish you could mount an exact replica of Mozart’s bust on your mantle, but lack the time or the technical ability to do him justice?

 

Well you can, with a simple SolidWorks CAD file and a 3D printer – which has actually been a thing for a while now. But thanks to recent price cuts and media attention, you can do it FROM YOUR OWN HOME with YOUR VERY OWN PRINTER, for about $400 and a computer modeling class or two. The revolution is coming, and from the looks of it, nothing will ever be the same.

 

The possibilities of this newly accessible technology are said to reach every aspect of our interaction with consumables, from the production of fully functional firearms to electronic prosthetic ones. We’re talking recyclable cars with interchangeable parts you can fabricate and install without the folks at the auto shop. We’re talking fully customizable accessories and jewelry, minus the overpriced market retail. We’re talking a full-scale replica of Michelangelo’s David in my backyard.

 

Sounds great, right? Everything will be so much easier and cheaper, and independently operated. We won’t have to count on Wal-Mart for discount appliances and utensils. Say goodbye to the days of making multiple trips to Home Depot while remodeling the kitchen. No more lines and entry fees at the museum for our daily dose of culture; every sculptural masterpiece ever made will be right there at our fingertips. We’ll never have to leave the house again!

 

But wait… I feel a drawback coming on.

 

Like the loss of hundreds of thousands of retail and assembly jobs, or even less human contact than we already experience with social media and online shopping, or the lack of sufficient regulation, leading to even more stuff being made out of even more questionable materials. Because the thing we need most is more stuff.

 

Maybe this isn’t all good – just like, oh I don’t know, every other revolutionary technological discovery we’ve ever come up with? I suppose it’s a given that someone(s), somewhere(s) will abuse this exciting development to the extent of their malevolent imaginations. On one hand, it would open up all kinds of creative opportunity, increase the amount of freedom and personal connection we have with our objects, and give us a much-needed excuse to begin the departure from commercial industrialization. But for every positive aspect, there seems to be at least one less-than-positive catch-22. At least we can safely say the day is still a ways off that every home will have its own 3D printer, and we can hope to figure out how to prevent the most disastrous of possibilities before they happen – because we’ve been so good at the whole “foresight” thing in the past. Regardless of the potential good and evil that could come from this soon-to-be revolution, one quote keeps ringing in my ears: “With great power comes great responsibility.” I wonder if we’ll be able to make Uncle Ben proud, when the time comes to put our newly developed “superpowers” to use.