Throughout different time periods and spanning continents, artists have devised techniques through which they may convey specific spiritual messages with the purpose of instructing the faithful.  This is often accomplished through a reliance on commonly understood symbols that allude to religious stories or sacraments.  By pictorially recreating sacred scenes the artist has the ability to manipulate the emphasis of the parable in a way that is congruent with contemporary ideals important to their respective religion.  Two works demonstrating this are Rogier van der Weyden’s Alter of the Seven Sacraments and an early 3^rd/late 2^nd Century stupa called Scenes from the Life of Buddha.  Though they are from vastly different eras and sections of the world, both works clearly use iconography already fixated in their cultures to instruct and pass on holy messages.

Rogier van der Weyden’s Alter of the Seven Sacraments is a complex image that uses several methods in relating the sacraments and the Passion to the Church’s laity.  The work, a triptych, superimposes the scene of Christ’s crucifixion onto the everyday scenes of Christian worship.  The physical presence of Jesus on the cross, surrounded by worshippers seemingly unaware of this, accomplishes two things.  Firstly, it acts as “reportage,” or the illusion that the work comes from a firsthand account of the crucifixion.  It also modernizes it, making it more relatable.  The holy figures are in Flemish clothing and are in the center of a clearly European church.   The viewer’s eye is even directed toward the center figure of Christ above any other image; the figures gesture in his direction and the pillars along the cathedral are parallel to the cross.  The panel containing the Passion is considerably more filled with natural light from the church’s windows then the adjoining panels, which look bleak in comparison.  Van der Weyden also took great pains to demonstrate linear perspective and the illusion of space; the floor is elaborately tiled and the ceiling’s overlapping arches rescind into the backdrop without the common appearance of flatness displayed in many contemporary works.  Including these embellishes, though they have nothing to do with the story of Christ, adds to the believability of the painting.  It gives the impression that the artist was present at Calvary and is not simply giving a vague or broad idea of what might have happened.  Also crucial in the placing of the crucifixion in the center of the cathedral is its relation to the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation.  Though the exact date of the triptych is unknown, it was most likely painted before 1450, only about 70 years before the Protestant Reformation and the clash between transubstantiation and consubstantiation.  In the van der Weyden, a priest can be seen in the act of presenting the Eucharist behind the central figures.  This could be an indication as to why the surrounding figures of the church take no notice of the crucifixion; it says to the viewer that though Christ cannot be seen during transubstantiation, he is still very much physically there.

The Altar of the Seven Sacraments extensively makes use of common religious iconography that would be familiar to even the most infrequent of church-goers.  Van der Weyden includes typical imagery, like angels presenting the sacraments and the arma christi, the “weapons of Christ.”  Accompanying scenes of each sacrament is an angel displaying a banner about the holy act.  This is directly instructional to the viewer, whereas the central figures in the crucifixion are more useful as evidence of the corporeal nature of transubstantiation.  From left to right, the colors of the angels’ robes darken; at birth the robes are white, symbolizing innocence or beginning, but slowly turn to darker shades as the sacraments progress with life.  The Last Rites are, of course, black.  Characteristic of the Catholic Church, this acts as a memento mori; it reminds the viewer of the inevitability of their death but it also instructs them on how best they might live in order to attain eternal life with God.  Also meant to advise the faithful on how best to live in a manner pleasing to God are the arma christi.  In “The Wound in Christ’s Side and the Instruments of the Passion: Gendered Experience and Response,” Flora Lewis writes that the arma christi “epitomize the desire to encompass and anatomize the Passion.”  Present in the Altar of the Seven Sacraments are the cross, the nails driven into Christ, the wounds of Christ, the crown of thorns, and arguably the pillars which Jesus was tied to while being flagellated.  As “weapons,” the arma christi act as principles with which followers of Christ can defeat Satan in the struggle over their sponsa, or soul.  These are particularly pertinent to the Altar of the Seven Sacraments because they, like transubstantiation, emphasize the physical nature of the Christian doctrine.  The arma christi evoke the brutality of the torture and subsequent execution of Christ while reminding the viewer of their fate in the afterlife if they do not follow Christian teaching, made all the more relevant by the juxtaposing of the life-cycle representing angels.  The Altar of the Seven Sacraments uses various symbols pervasive throughout European Christian society to underscore the importance of literal Church doctrine, like transubstantiation, and the need to follow Christian teaching, as seen in the arma christi.

Similar to the Altar of the Seven Sacraments, Buddhist art also used familiar imagery to galvanize the faithful.  The late 2^nd/early 3^rd Century stupa from either Pakistan or Afghanistan, Scenes from the Life of Buddha, shows the same sacrosanct duo as the van der Weyden: familiar iconography coupled with the purpose of instruction.

Though the Buddhist work does not have the advantage of color like the van der Weyden and was created in a time and place foreign to linear perspective, it does find methods through which religious stories and their accompanying lessons can be passed.  Like the arma christi, the Buddhist stupa has various symbols that denote religious life as well as allusions to the central religious figure, in this case Buddha.  One of these symbols is the urna, or forehead mole which marks a level of spiritual insight, like a third eye.  Another physical characteristic of the Buddha is the ushnisha, or the bump on the top of his head that is often mistaken for hair.  It is meant to resemble an adage to the brain, a sign of Buddha’s unique amount of knowledge.  Like the representations of Christ’s torture and execution, these images are very bodily and connected with the religious figure.  They serve to remind the faithful, along with the Buddha’s inward gaze and the empty space between him and the demons tempting him, that spiritual enlightenment comes from within.

Important in this stupa are Buddha’s gestures.  According to Vidya Dehejia, early Buddhist art places a strong emphasis on action versus inaction.  Buddha is making calm gestures while seated but the demons surrounding him thrust violent gestures toward him.  Buddha signals to the Earth Goddess that he is about to attain enlightenment by making the bhumisparsha mudra, or “earth touching gesture.”  His arms are lowered in contrast to the raised arms of the demons.  The same can be said of the facial expressions in the stupa; the demons’ faces are twisted into rictuses of anger with eyes all pointed directly at Buddha.  Buddha, however, is stoic and faces the viewer, possibly a reminder of what the Buddhist should concentrate on.  Also notable is the difference between Buddha’s possessions and those of the demons and how each makes use of them.  Buddha scarcely has any items, only a simple robe lacking any ornament.  His items are based on necessity.  The demons on his peripheral have more elaborate clothing and some have headdresses; they also brandish weapons and ride horses.  To a follower of Buddhism, the combination of violence and material possessions could be seen as directly in line with Buddhist teaching.  Though more subtle then the van der Weyden, Scenes from the Life of Buddha instructs its audience through centrality and unity; it puts the religious prophet at the center of the teaching and encompasses symbols and gestures that reflect their teachings.

Spirituality in art finds methods through which to pass on a message because its strength lies in its need to serve a purpose.  For the religious, a work of art can be spiritually inspiring as well as instructional.  Culturally pervasive iconography indicates to the viewer the purpose of the work and the artist has the ability to interpret how it is presented in any way they wish.  Symbols in works demonstrate an acknowledged and established understanding of doctrine which gives unity to the art pertaining to that religion.  Understanding symbols along with the artist’s interpretation is crucial in understanding the work of art.

While I know this may not be strictly be considered an art, there’s this cool new video for one of Umich’s newest student organizations, rEDesign, that I had to share with the arts community. They need creative, ambitious thinkers to help them in their movement! Watch the video, spread it to your friends and tweet your ideas.

Never been so sober- but I couldn’t have felt drunker. Never sweat more in my life but I couldn’t have felt cooler. Never been so tightly squeezed in a horde of people but I couldn’t have felt free-er. Never experienced such an interactive live show, so I knew I had to be at the Blind Pig. Girl Talk’s free concert Wednesday night, sponsored by Axe, was the perfect antidote to a stressful week of college finals preparations.

I have been a Girl Talk fan since I was in 7^th grade, back when his music was as new as the Myspace page he advertised on. I was introduced to Gillis before he even released Night Ripper, when he used the 8-minute blend of “Too Deep, Smash Your Head, and Minute by Minute” as a teaser for his music, and when he used to play a free concert at any time, anywhere. I have followed him closely as he began to gain popularity and soared to new heights of fame few people imagined he would reach. I watched as he began to change his live show experience, performing at larger venues, incorporating a more advanced light show, hiring hype men/women to spray the crowd with all sorts of crazy substances, and my personal favorite: building a lifesize house on stage for his New Years Eve concert in Chicago.

Needless to say, his style has changed incredibly since I had the good fortune to see him four years ago in New Haven, Connecticut. When I saw him he was a few months away from releasing Feed the Animals, and just on the cusp of gaining the universal popularity he has today. The show was incredible, and didn’t involve any of the new techniques I explained above. So when I heard that Girl Talk was putting on a free show at an intimate venue, I knew I had to get tickets. I had to see if he still could go back to those smaller days.

In April of 2008 I saw him at a venue called “Toad’s Place.” The similarities between “The Blind Pig” and Toad’s are striking: both have seriously impressive history (Gillis tweeted a picture of the Nirvana poster at the Blind Pig after the show) and each can only hold around 100-200 people. Both concerts also enlisted talented opening performances, I saw Passion Pit in ’08 and People Under the Stairs on Wednesday. Gillis also invited half of the audience to join him on stage in both shows, and provided the crowd with non-stop fun.

I have to admit the music was much better when I saw him in New Haven. This time around he focused on his most recent album All Day, which is my least favorite Girl Talk record. He salvaged this by exhibiting a wealth of new music that I, and probably few others in the crowd, had never heard before, which gives me infinite hope for his next release. These new mashups were as magnificent as some tracks off Night Ripper, including samples from songs such as “No Hands, Dance (ASS), Shout!, Work Out” and even a combination of Tyler, The Creator’s “Yonkers” and Lil Wayne’s “Stuntin,” which was downright brilliant.

What set the two shows apart was the experience. Wednesday night passed in a frenzy that only plays back in my head in a very blurry, sweaty mess. The crowd literally moved and swayed as one unit, plastered together by the confetti, toilet paper and mist that was continuously sprayed on us by Gillis’s two assistants, who used leaf blowers and electric paint rollers to bombard the fans. As if this was not enough, they also released a number of balloons and beach balls into the audience, further clouding any type of mental and visual clarity. At one point I was following a particular balloon’s progress through the crowd when the lights rose and absorbed everything in their glares, ending in a burst of confetti that splattered myself and everyone around me. I searched around, frantically looking for the balloon, only to realize it had popped and exploded into the millions of scraps of colored papaer that had previously been trapped inside. Mind-blowing moments such as that one were the reason this show was such a unique experience. This feeling magnified during the last few moments of the show.

The end came without any notice. Suddenly, the tension escalated. The beat began, spinning faster and faster until it consumed the entire room. An overwhelming cacophony of indistinguishable noise. The confetti was a whirlwind of color. Outstretched forearms illuminated in their silhouettes against the inexplicably bright blue and white lights, imposed there, seemingly for eternity, until the all-encompassing wave of energy overtook the crowd, mere humans unable to even slightly withstand the magnitude of pressure swirling in cool breezes throughout the air until— a moment of darkness. The strain broke. The noise ceased. The crowd rested for a moment, finally still. Weaved together as one unit. Grasping for comprehension.

I know it’s not exactly an original sentiment, but this is my favorite time of the year. Or, at least, it will be once finals are over. I adore the Christmas season – I love the story, the music, the decorations, the time with family, and I love the wrapping paper.

Christmas wrapping paper embodies a part of the happiness of the holidays. Seeing role upon role of the colorful paper crammed into bins down holiday

aisles at the store, one can’t help but think of some of the best parts of Christmas – Santa Claus, Christmas trees, a friend or family member’s face as they open an unexpected gift, the anticipation of Christmas morning. Looking through the bins of paper always makes me smile – sometimes because I like the patterns, and they make me inexplicably happy, but sometimes because they’re so terribly cheesy or awful that I can’t help but want to laugh.

Whenever I walk into a store at this time of year, the holiday aisle(s) have a nearly magnetic draw, mostly because of the wrapping paper. I love looking at the different patterns: traditional, funny, religious, modern, shiny, movie or television themed. I love to judge which patterns I like, which ones I think are cheesy, and which ones I could imagine certain people buying. It’s always difficult to remind myself that I already have plenty of wrapping paper already.

Of course, the best part about wrapping paper is actually wrapping things and getting creative with it, like the girl in the picture above. Although, that might be going just a little bit overboard.  If you’re looking for some creative wrapping ideas this website has some good ones.

Wrapping paper is a funny thing. It’s technically pointless, yet nothing says it’s a gift more than wrapping a present in patterned paper that’s just going to be thrown away. It’s such a personal thing too.  Everybody has their own style of wrapping. One person’s wrapping may look like  a train ran over it, while someone else’s may look like a piece of art – so beautiful that you almost don’t want to rip the paper off.  Almost.

That’s a wrap for the semester.

Happy (almost) Holidays and Good Luck on finals!

The 9/11 generation.  That’s what they call us.  The first time I heard that our generation is “defined by 9/11” was freshman year.  I remember feeling oddly offended.  Surely we are more complex than that, I thought.  One event, no matter how horrific it was, cannot be the defining moment of our generation, especially not one that happened when I was 11 years old.  I still have so many experiences ahead of me.  How can scholars or marketing executives or whoever it is who makes these decisions tell me what defined my identity and the identity of the rest of the people in my age group?

I am currently taking a class on the contemporary American novel.  All of the books we’re reading were written after 2001.  Only about a third of the novels we read dealt with 9/11 directly, but the tragedy left its mark on all of the books in one way or another.  The Lovely Bones, a novel set in an entirely different decade, still grapples with issues of mortality and unspeakable acts of violence.  Zone One is a straight-up zombie novel, but the imagery evokes pictures of destruction– ash-filled skies and unstable skyscrapers.  As we begin our final weeks of the semester, I am coming to certain conclusions about the state of the American novel.  Many of these conclusions are related to 9/11 and what a pre- and post- 9/11 American novel looks like.  If novels are supposed to reflect society, as I believe most good novels do in one way or another, it only follows that these same conclusions are indicative of our culture and identities.

We are more paranoid.  We are more concerned with what the societal structures we’ve depended so heavily on mean and how much we can trust them.   We worry about the legacy we’re leaving for our children.  Dying parents or other authority figures crop up time and time again.  We’re scared, we’re in a constant state of change, and we are looking for something to believe in.  In the case of many of these novels, the characters turn to books.  Before they may have searched for help in the Bible, but their faith has been shaken and they are looking for another outlet.

I sympathize with these characters.  As I’ve gotten older, religion has taken a backseat in my life.  At the moment, it is sort of a nonentity.  I don’t think about it one way or another.  Where some might “cling to guns and religion,” I “cling to text and art.”  They might not leave me with hope or reassurance, but through characters and masterful writing, I am given the supreme gift of faith in humanity.  According to Jonathan Franzen, a good novel should teach us how to live in this world.  I don’t need an author to teach me how to live, but at the very least they should make me want to learn how to live.

The authors we’ve been reading are certainly not in my generation.  They are my parents’ generation.  Some are a bit younger.  I like to believe that they are cynical and only see our generation as distant outsiders.  Many of them try to tackle the voice of our generation by bringing in younger narrators or central characters.  While the way they speak may not be realistic, there is something in the tone that feels right.  I still remember George W. Bush declaring war on Iraq a couple days after my 13th birthday and feeling indescribable fear because I did not know what was next.  They’ve got that uncertainty down.

As I’ve learned about the contemporary American novel, I’ve learned about contemporary American society.  We’ve got a ways to go.  For the time being, I’m reluctantly agreeing that my generation is the 9/11 generation.  Our adolescence was colored by uncertainty and fear.  As we move forward, I am excited to see what sort of novels we produce.  Maybe we will complete Franzen’s goal and learn how to live.  You know what?  Let’s do him one better.  Let’s learn how to thrive.

So far this year I’ve been writing mostly about music you all should be listening to, or at least, music I’ve enjoyed listening to lately. Which isn’t really fair to all those artists who have released music that I haven’t enjoyed listening to recently. And who am I to discriminate? To all of these horrendous musicians, I apologize, but fear no more! My music racism stops here: following is a letter to Aubrey Graham, known mostly by his stage name, Drake, who just released his studio album “Take Care” on November 15.

Dear Aubrey,

Oh, you poor, poor child. If only you had stretched your prime, golden years on Degrassi into a more substantial career, because, in all honesty, you belong nowhere near the Hip-Hop profession. You could have been happily shooting season 28 with the rest of the old crew, but instead you’re producing worthless albums such as this one. Oh well, at least middle school girls now have your lyrics to use as material for their feisty teen anger.

Your opening track, “Over My Dead Body” is actually a beautifully crafted instrumental, full of powerful accompanying vocals, a soft and muffled beat, and a wonderful piano overtone. It truly embodies the nostalgic, quiet pride you are attempting to evince. Which is why it’s actually so hard to hear you, Drake, so pitifully ruin your own masterpiece. This song potentially could have been a revealing sentiment, but as soon as your oily voice appears, somehow clashing with your own beat, the song is destroyed. In the opening 30 seconds of your first verse you say, “Shout out to Asian girls- let the lights dim some.” Really? Who and what are you shouting out to Asian girls, if I may ask. Out of four consecutive lines, three end with the word “some.” Three! That’s not how rhyming works, pal, you have to find different words that sound the same. And no, it doesn’t count when you use “dim sum,” instead of “some.” That’s still the same word. You do this throughout the entire song. Three “again’s” in a row. Four N words. Two “from’s.” Maybe you had your Degrassi audition during this first grade rhyming lesson, I’m not sure, but you crucially need some help here.

The only song I enjoy shares the same name as the album. “Take Care” featuring Rihanna, is the only track that deserves to be classified as Hip-Hop. I always expect quality hooks from Rihanna, especially now as she is continuing her streak started by “We Found Love,” (yes, I like that song. Everybody likes that song) but “Take Care” exceeds her repertoire. Her voice powerfully secretes emotion and vulnerability; her soft passion coincides with the simple piano and hand-shaker beat to the point where it is almost palpable. You even manage not to completely and utterly ruin it, and I particularly enjoy how you change between rapping and singing, although your singing voice is far from gifted. If I force myself to only partially listen to the lyrics, this song gets a spot in my top favorite 50 songs. Of November. Also the Florence and the Machine cover is equal to if not better than your version.

A complete breakdown of every song (like D Prep’s heinous, praising, over exaggerated excuse for a review on Sunset in the Rearview) would probably result in me smashing my computer repeatedly against the wall from having to actually listen to every second of your album. Luckily for me, because of how dreadfully similar they are, I can accurately describe the remainder of songs in one general statement: they are not good. The only redeemable quality you have left is that you somehow feature Andre 3000 on the song “The Real Her.” Since it sounds somewhat like an Outkast song off of Aquemini, it starts off as a conceivably impressive song, but, true to your nature, you find a way to ruin it by offering Lil Wayne a verse as well. Andre 3000 is a legend. Lil Wayne serves no purpose on this planet.

Drake, I’m sorry. I don’t particularly enjoy doing this, and I want you to be a star just as much as the next twelve-year old, but you really need to show some improvement. There might be a slight possibility you have some actual talent buried deep, deep down somewhere, but in order to display it you have to stop pretending like you are a moron. You have a brain, stop writing these emotionless, ignorant lyrics. Get back to your “Forever” remix skill level. And if you really want to improve, leave Young Money and take Nicki with you. It’s either that or season 32 of Degrassi, your choice.

Respectfully,

Alex

PS. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LofSI8vfEZ4&feature=related