Middle C: the first note a student learns on the piano. The first note one hears, the first note one learns to identify. Geographically, sonically, visually. Home. It’s an important note, to say the least. It was the first note heard in a concert by The Knights that took place at 4 pm on Sunday in Rackham Auditorium, and the pitch that was sustained through the first piece, “Suite Upon One Note.” The suite was made up of three very different pieces: “Improvisation Upon One Note”, by Kinan Azmeh and Avi Avital, “Fantasia Upon One Note”, by Henry Purcell, and an excerpt from “La Camera Bianca” by Giovanni Sollima Viaggo. Three very different works from three different cultures, time periods, and backgrounds, all connected by a shared note and presented as one.
This idea of unity through a common language was present through the entirety of the concert. Joining the Brooklyn-based ensemble were two virtuoso musicians: Israeli mandolin player Avi Avital and the Syrian clarinetist Kinan Azmeh. Their influence was felt through the concert, as the program blended music from the classical tradition, Middle Eastern cultures, and jazz. On the Knights website, the organization notes that “We are serious about having fun. We thrive on camaraderie and friendship. We cultivate a collaborative environment that honors a multiplicity of voices.”
In today’s political climate, a concert presenting two accomplished, well-known musicians and music from the Middle East inherently feels like a statement. Although it was never addressed by the Knights, the statement that seemed to be made with the concert was that their differences as musicians pulled them together even more. Rarely is Azmeh’s “Suite for Improvisers and Orchestra,” based off of sounds that remind him of his hometown in Syria, heard on the same program as Bach and Schubert. This diversity in work is important: in playing works by Bach and Schubert, the Knights paid tribute to a shared classical musical background. Presenting works by Avital and Azmeh that were partly based in improvisation recognized and celebrated the individuality and virtuosity of the music and character of each other’s backgrounds and cultures.
These ideas are all based in the founding values of the Knights: they say that they are “musicians…who come from a deeply rooted tradition but are eager to look beyond those roots and embrace new means of expression.” Ensembles like the Knights and concerts like Sunday’s are increasingly important today. They encourage this idea of a shared “Middle C” in the audience; a shared sense of home and humanity present in each person. These musicians are not only virtuosic in musical ability, but in creating a community within themselves and the audience that can only be described as warm, inviting, and inclusive: three ideals to strive for in today’s world.
American Idol vs. The Voice
The fall season is about the weather, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and TV shows. All of the good shows worth watching come back on in the fall: the dramas, comedies, game shows, reality, or a combination of several. A popular mix between reality and game shows are talent shows; these include things from American Idol to Cake Wars. It’s a staple genre all throughout the world, not only in the US. A big chunk of the talent shows have to do with singing. There is the X-Factor, American Idol, The Voice, about half of the contestants on America’s Got Talent, and Boy Band. With so many shows for people to choose from the question is: How do you decide which show(s) to watch?
How do all of these shows have an audience? Is it the same audience watching all of these shows? Or do different people watch? If that’s the case then how do people choose which show to watch because they are all virtually the same show (except AGT because you can do more than sing)?
Do they decide what show to watch based on the judges? This is likely, because once Paula and then more notably, Simon, left American Idol the show lost viewers and ultimately ended until it will be rebooted next year. Then The Voice has Adam Levine and Blake Shelton to get viewers who like pop a
nd/or country so they could potentially be reaching more people. Then The Voice added Miley Cyrus for younger viewers and for people who wanted to see what she is doing now after her wrecking ball phase and they watch to see if she will actually be a good judge. So Miley brings in more viewers. The Voice is good at getting people to watch more based on the judges then based on the talent and the a
ctual show. The X-Factor had Simon as the main judge after American Idol (because he created the show) and the show ended within 5 seasons because it wasn’t producing stars like American Idol had and the judges weren’t good enough to watch on there own compared to the entertainment on The Voice of watching Blake and Adam talk and argue back and forth.
People don’t watch the show because they like the way its set up better than other singing shows. Each show is essentially set up the same way: auditions, cut offs, then live shows where people can vote from the top 24 contestants. So there is really no difference in the big picture, each show just changes a little bit in each stage to make it unique.
People could possibly watch for the stars that arise from the show. If that’
s the case then American Idol should not have stopped because they were the only show that brought any big stars like Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, and Daughtry (and Daughtry didn’t even win!). No other show has created a star on any level like the ones that American Idol produced.
Based on these factors and more people decide which talent singing show they want to watch. For some, they can also be interchangeable based on the judges and contestants each season.
Finding Your Outlet: A Personal Story
Last week, I wrote about the importance of having an outlet and how to find your outlet. This week, I have a story for you readers about my own experience with my outlet:
It’s 3 a.m. I had been in bed at 12, but I lie restless for hours, failing to expel the stressors that keep me awake, stressors that not only trap my mind but taunt my fragile heart. I fear that this heart has been broken, like it’s glass-like composition has now shattered to pieces. These worries start to swell so much that the act of closing my eyes demands effort, so I call my mother (c’mon, who else)…and miraculously, at this terribly inconvenient hour of the night, she picks up. (My mother is a superhero.)
I talk. She talks. We balance sharing and listening. How lucky am I to call my mother to whenever I need, to call my favorite person to talk to. After an hour of conversation, I let her go to sleep. In place of the worry and emptiness I felt before the call, I now feel relief and overwhelming gratitude, but still very much awake from these ideas. My thoughts trail into what I would do if my mother was not here. Then, a good friend Alisa crosses my mind.
Alisa and I met four years ago on my high school’s cross country team when she came to the United States for a year as an exchange student from Germany. After we were separated by an enormous body of water called the Atlantic Ocean, our friendship only grew stronger, staying updated with each other’s lives one way or another. It was November when she mentioned that her mum had been battling liver cancer for the past year, and how her lifestyle was compromised because of it. Meanwhile, she was optimistic about her mom’s recovery and about life in general, telling me about a fleeting desire to be a flight attendant, her pursuit of medical school, and her excitement to send me a Christmas card. On December 15th of that year, her mother passed away.
The day of the funeral, she told me “I don’t know if I can handle this.” How do you handle that?
It’s been almost a year since, and you wouldn’t believe the incredible things Alisa has done. She got a 4.0 in her schooling, started an internship at a hospital, got into medical school, and worked (not as a flight attendant–she realized that was not her dream after all) to make enough money to fly back to the States to visit an old friend from the high school cross country team. At a blue picnic table over two #2 Zingerman’s sandwiches, we talked briefly about her mother, and of course she was sad and she missed her terribly and she was confused as to why it happened. Despite this, she maintained a most positive attitude about the situation and, moreover, about life entirely. She found comfort in that her mother had no pain anymore, that the time they shared is something for which she will always be grateful. At that blue picnic table over two #2 Zingerman’s sandwiches, she told me something her mother told her:
“When making decisions, think with your mind, heart, and eyes.”
So, with all this in pooling in my head, I pick up a sharpie. begin to let the thoughts flow out of my head through my fingers and onto the paper in black ink.
One side of my heart is protected by barbed wire and the other side is guarded by my own observations. People like my mom and Alisa walk through the gapes that lie between the shielding. What had been troubling is clear now, and having it outlet helps to remove the thoughts from mind and place them in front of me. With drawing is my outlet, worry no longer manifests in my mind because I enable myself to see how it all comes together.
Chatter
Sometimes I wish I could take words back. But no matter how much I try and grab at them, it is a hopeless cause. The words have crystallized, changing from mere thought to reality. Sometimes, I can feel it in the air. The awkwardness that follows wrong words is unmistakable. The sudden silence. The desperation to fill the emptiness with anything else at all. For me, it has always seemed strange that everyone complains about the difficulty of writing essays when speaking is exponentially more difficult. At least, when you are writing, there is a way to erase the offending words from existence. It allows for an infinite amount of time to search for the right phrase, for the perfect way to express one’s true feelings. I am always in a hurry when I am speaking with someone else. I worry that the other person, whether they are sitting across the table or listening on the phone thousands of miles away will lose interest before the sentence can stumble its way out of my mouth. Even then, someone might misunderstand my meaning. So, I speak out of fear.
Maybe that is why there are so many useless words cluttering our ears and minds. Instinctively, we want to communicate, yet surmounting the barrier efficiently is still an unsolved puzzle. Conversations happen every second, but so many are fleeting and forgettable. It is good that there is still a way to record our thoughts so that we may return to them and change them. That is why I continue to write. Not just to create flowery sentences or to impress others, but to clear my mind, to give it a clean start every week. I give my ideas permanence instead of just letting them flow out of my mouth. I pick words carefully so that they may carry my thoughts outside of myself. Speaking and writing are our tools, but we don’t often treat them that way. We replace words with emojis, limit them to 140 characters, skim over words, instead of reading more carefully. We do this to our detriment, for these are the only pathways to understanding that we have. Otherwise, we are doomed to be isolated forever, stuck in the same thoughts that we have always had.
The threat has only grown larger as time has gone on. We can message people at the touch of a button. We order pizza and stay in our respective homes instead of going out to eat. Conversations grow ever shorter and less meaningful. Sometimes, I believe in it too. I wish that I could take all my words back and stay silent. But the words are not the problem. It is how we are using them. We should not be speaking or writing out of fear, but out of necessity. Then, we trust that people are actually listening.
Spaces
Do you ever think of the spaces that you inhabit? The cafe? Your room? Your bathroom? Yes, basically everything is a “space.” But what defines a “space?” I would say that a space is a place that we inhabit in which its limits are usually defined by some sort of marking or is simply distinguished from other places via barriers. With that sort of Apparently, for example, a space can be private or public, or inviting versus uninviting. But what exactly makes us feel these certain vibes from these things we call “space” around us? Let’s ask these questions in terms of a garden.
A garden is typically defined as “a piece of ground, often near a house, used for growing flowers, fruit, or vegetables.” Fair enough, this is stereotypically its function. But, gardens can be self-owned, or it can be owned and shared by an institution. So what kind of space is a garden? Is it a public space, or is it private? What are your thoughts about this question? And what other spaces can be similarly questioned? Comment your thoughts! 🙂
Comics and Having Heroes
I love comics, especially the literary variety known as graphic novels. I was ecstatic when I heard that the art school was going to host a talk by none other than Art Spiegelman, the Pulitzer Prize-winning comics artist, as part of the Stamps Distinguished Speaker Series. He solidified the genre of the graphic novel with his work “Maus”, a gripping account of his father’s survival during the Holocaust with Jews depicted as mice and Nazis depicted as cats.
Spiegelman’s presentation was titled “Comics is the Yiddish of Art”, the thesis that drove his roughly 90-minute talk. He described his inspiration from the greats, starting with Superman creator Jack Kirby, a Jewish American like himself. As the talk went on, Spiegelman argued how comics were not just a home for Jewish American artists, but for outsiders in general. He compared the localized nature of Yiddish with the fluid grammar of comics as a visual medium. The unusual comparison felt justified and of personal interest to Spiegelman.
But his talk fell flat when he addressed the sexism and racism that has fueled comics for decades. After discussing how comics were condemned by authorities and even burned due to their provacotive content, he showed an example of how comics (by men) hid images of women’s groins and breasts in the background. This was followed by an anecdote of how he loved to draw women’s breasts and groins in junior high that he would then morph into the faces of dogs to avoid repercussion. This got a laugh out of the audience, but I was unsettled. The art professor who had introduced Spiegelman to the audience, the incredibly talented Phoebe Gloeckner of “Diary of a Teenage Girl” fame, had said she was interested in hearing the connection between Jewish identity and comics as she had always felt as an outsider due to being a woman cartoonist. The way Spiegelman showed comics’ history of objectifying women made it feel inevitable, as “boys will be boys”. I wondered if male cartoonists ever considered how their crass attitude to portraying women alienated their peers like Gloeckner.
His discussion on racism had a similar problem of perpetuating the stereotypes that keep diverse artists out of comics. While calling out the racist caricatures that became a foundation for comics, he showed how he made a cover full of racist caricatures for “Harper’s Bazaar” after Danish newspapers went under fire for depicting the prophet Muhammad, which is prohibited by Islam.
I was disappointed. Spiegelman spoke of his frustration with identity politics and his disillusionment in becoming a spokesperson of sorts for the Jewish community when he considers himself an artist first and foremost, leading me to believe he is against having art shoehorned due to the identity of its author. And yet he was continuing comics’ tradition of not being sensitive to the disrespect faced by people with marginalized identities in the art world.
I am cognizant that Spiegelman used coarse language with all social identities depicted in the art he included in his talk. He shared stories of being considered anti-Semitic for not portraying Jews or the Holocaust in a traditional way, a discussion best left to his own community. But as a Latina who is always striving to find representation in the media, I was not amused by his lack of interest in making comics a more inclusive medium. After his talk I was inspired to send an op-ed comic of my own to the Michigan Daily, and I finish this article with my head held high and hopeful of the future of diverse artists.
