Mapping Los Angeles

-Reporting by Eliza Newman–

Several months ago, John Kilduff, of “Let’s Paint T.V.” fame, suggested that Blackstone Gallery do a plein air show. Kilduff hoped that through the combined efforts of various artists taking to the streets of Los Angeles, they could create an impressionist map of the city. Shortly after, Raw Materials Art Supplies gave Kilduff’s idea the push it needed. The L.A.-based art store partnered with The Downtown Los Angeles Art Walk to host the inaugural Los Angeles Plein Air Festival, thereby giving birth to Blackstone’s Streetscape show which premiered October 9^th.

“Nothing like this has ever been done before,” says Kilduff, gesturing to the grey wall behind him that’s painted with a map of Downtown Los Angeles.  15 paintings are hanging in clusters around the gallery with a few additional works sprinkled throughout the surrounding blocks. That’s how the wall appeared yesterday, but the map has likely already changed.

“The show is almost like a performance piece that revolves around plein air painting,” Blackstone gallery owner, Steven Thomas Higgins, explains the show’s concept. At the show’s opening, John Kilduff, Alex Schaefer, and Cesar Gonzalez were the sole artists contributing works. In the next month, however, a total of seven artists will set to work exploring an 80-block stretch of the city. Their composite map will encompass everything from City Hall to the Bradbury Building, and from the Museum of Contemporary Art to Skid Row.

By the show’s closing night on November 8, Kilduff hopes to see about 100 paintings find their way onto the map. “It looks cool now, but in a couple more weeks it’s really going to be something,” says Kilduff.

Not only will new paintings be added, but paintings will disappear over the course of the month as well. People are invited to purchase works throughout the duration of the show. Much like the buildings of L.A., paintings will be put up and torn down to make way for something new.

“We’ve been getting to know the areas really intimately,” says Higgins.

“We’re going to know every damn corner of this town,” adds Schaefer, one of the project’s founding members. Between Wednesday morning and Thursday night alone, Schaefer painted three new cityscapes to add to the ever-expanding map.

If the high spirits and enthusiasm present in Streetscape carry over for the remainder of the month, Blackstone’s 100-painting goal appears not only achievable but almost easy.

“We’re trying to roll one out every few hours,” says Schaefer. “And because you really need to work with the sunlight, that leaves us with three main chunks of time—sun up to noon, 1 p.m. to sundown, and nighttime.”

What makes this project so compelling, is the fact that there’s no quiet studio with fine-tuned lighting or quiet garden bench. On the contrary, artists have to work amid honking and shouting, all the disquiet inherent in urban life. The project in that sense is two-fold: the artists are creating a visual documentation of the city, while also interacting on a more personal level with the landscape and the city’s inhabitants.

“When I was painting on Broadway around midnight not long ago there was this naked, (transgender) person running around… yelling ‘I’m going to kill your art,’” says Schaefer. “This whole thing’s just been stinky, and crazy, and fun. Even when you’re painting in places you aren’t really supposed to be, people want to stop and watch art being made.”

With its incredibly diverse residents and neighborhoods, Downtown supplies each of the artists with a different experience every time they go out to paint. Likewise, the livelihood and the attitudes of the people watching changes from block to block and hour to hour.

The energy in the process carries through to the vibrancy of the paintings.

“I love this one,” says artist and admirer Gary Brewer, kneeling over one of the cityscapes. “It looks like color splotches, but the color structure and design is so accurate that it moves you back in space into a really amazing moment.”

While the paintings come from different artists, they share a vivacity of broad vertical strokes and brightly colored paints. The soft brush strokes appear as poignantly fleeting as the city itself. Whether depicting a lonesome bridge or a bustling street corner, each painting has a sense of excitement and promise that should be familiar to any Angeleno.

The project strips away concerns of ego and competition—in fact, it’s almost impossible to tell which artist is responsible for each piece. Rather, the artists involved are coming together to capture the spirit of a city undergoing a vast transformation. They’re working together to capture Los Angeles as it is now in this tiny moment of time.

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Post Photos Courtesy of Eliza Newman

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Saba’s Comfort Zone

-Album Reviewed by Jacob Kresovich–

Saba is a nineteen-year old rapper coming out of the Austin neighborhood in the west side of Chicago, IL. He is a member of the Pivot Gang rap collective and released his debut album, ComfortZone, for free on July 15^th .  Saba’s music career began when he was nine years old, making beats and crafting his eventual self-defining style. The rapper describes his sound as “sexy space synths,” a concept he explores in depth on ComfortZone.

The album opens with the track, ‘TimeZone.’ Immediately, heavily distorted synths warp listeners to another dimension. Saba introduces himself, asking his audience a string of questions concerning who he resembles and what he might be when he grows up. He answers these questions in a quick flowing verse explaining that, as a kid, he “been quiet,” but that “realest n****s move in silence.” His second verse addresses the latter question with confidence that he’s going to be a successful rapper although he faced difficulties gaining a following until he became a “main event.”

‘Burnout,’ the second track on the album, is Saba’s breakout single featuring Eryn Allen Kane singing the chorus. Saba’s aggressive, choppy flow and creative storytelling exemplify his talent. Next, Saba offers a few bars explaining why he doesn’t venture into the violence-prone south side of Chicago after getting locked out of a girl’s house. Kane’s smooth delivery and melodic chorus balance the lyrics. The singer implores the universe not to “come at [her] with your bullshit/ your nonsense, your issues, can’t handle it.”  By the end of the song, both Saba and Kane harmonize on the outro. They explain that every day they “wake up feelin’ good” and seem generally optimistic moving forward with “out of town homies showing love.”

‘Scum’ is the most introspective song on ComfortZone. The beat utilizes progressive piano chords creating a downtrodden tone. Saba opens: “They call us scum, from the city slums and/ they all think we idiot, like we really dumb” showing how the poor are viewed, even in a first-world country. He continues “Our tummy growlin’, they money pilin’, my mommy poutin’… They closed the school that you went to/ and told you that it’s rent due, left potholes where you carpool” again exemplifying the inherent hardships of poverty. This adversity, however, motivates the rapper to navigate the dangers of youth. Cautious for his safety, he labors to take care of his family and rises above his station without having to resort to joining one of the many west side gangs.

ComfortZone is a well-rounded debut album and is an excellent jumping off point for Saba’s music career.  The rapper’s youth is apparent throughout the LP, but he often uses it to his advantage. His unique, aggressive flow and production ability are his main strengths, allowing him to stand out from his peers. The fact that most of the tracks on the album feature Saba spitting rhymes as well as creating beats hints at greater talent. If Saba can continue on this path, there is no doubt that he will follow the pattern of success similar to the other young rappers who have recently emerged from Chicago’s hip-hop music scene.

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Post Photo Courtesy of: http://www.audiomack.com

Big Screen Streaming: The Maze Runner

-Film Review by Roger Market-

Hollywood is currently craving film adaptations of young adult “dystopian” novels taking place in frightening and undesirable worlds, often with a teenage romance at the core. The Maze Runner, which opened on September 19, is the most recent addition to this lineup. Although not perfect, the film tells a surprisingly grown-up story that both teens and adults can appreciate.

The movie begins with the first scene shown in the trailer: the traumatic arrival of Thomas (Dylan O’Brien) in “the Glade” via an elevator called “the Box.” Suffering from chronic amnesia, he is forced to join a community of distressed young males. Every month, a new boy is delivered to the Glade, Thomas learns from his new companions. Each new arrival has no memory of his past, but within a day or two remembers his name. The community rests in a glade at the center of a dangerous and terrifying maze. So far, all attempts to escape have been in vain.

The plot thickens when Thomas is attacked by a “glader” who appears to have gone insane. “It’s called the changing,” one boy explains. Their peer has been stung by a giant maze-dwelling beast called a “Griever,” causing him to act viciously and irrationally. Untamable, the infected glader is thrown into the maze as the gate closes for the night—an unfortunate turn of events because no one has ever survived a night inside. Each day, a group of boys called the runners attempt to navigate the maze. Their efforts are seemingly futile. They’re all doomed unless they return before the gate closes at nightfall.

Trailer-intrigued viewers will not be surprised when Thomas is selected to be a runner. He’s destined to change everything and to find a way out. Dylan O’Brien is well cast in the role of Thomas. Although he’s had only eight roles since he started acting in 2011, he’s been honing his craft for the past four seasons as the goofy but kindhearted supporting character of Stiles on MTV’s Teen Wolf series, quickly rising to fan favorite status. Earlier this year, his creepy portrayal of the villain of season 3B was especially well received. O’Brien has proven before that he’s adept at comedy and being the voice of reason, but this new turn on the series allowed him to show his range and his ability to be the leading man. Now, in The Maze Runner, O’Brien earns his place center stage. His growing friendship with young glader Chuck (Blake Cooper) is touching to watch unfold, and his determination to find a way out of the maze and save everyone is clearly visible in his eyes, mannerisms, and tone. The question is, can he actually succeed? After all, the maze is a formidable villain, complete with sections that open only on certain days, a gate that waits for no runner to pass through, and, of course, the unbeatable patrolling Grievers.

Despite the intricate set and special effects, viewers will be surprised to learn that The Maze Runner is, by today’s standards, a low-budget adventure movie. The film cost only $34 million to produce. In contrast to other recent dystopian movies that had much larger budgets, The Maze Runner reminds audiences that less can be more so long as there is smart directing and the right cast. Divergent had a budget of $85 million, and so far, The Hunger Games series has gone from $78 million for the first movie to $130 million for Catching Fire. That’s more than two/three times the budget for The Maze Runner, which clocks in at almost two hours with an 113-minute total runtime. For more perspective, another interesting comparison can be drawn from Tammy, a 97-minute comedy recently reviewed on monologging. This film cost $20 million to make, only $14 million shy of The Maze Runner’s modest budget. Tammy featured fireworks and a waterfall; The Maze Runner created an entire world.

As the trailer advertises, a girl by the name of Teresa (Kaya Scodelario) does arrive in the Glade shortly before the film’s midpoint. In a unique and refreshing twist, this movie avoids classic Hollywood pitfalls pandering to a typical teen audience by injecting an unnecessary love story. Teresa initially represents another example of the changes taking place in the Glade, the arrival of new characters that don’t fit the status quo. Ultimately, The Maze Runner is a story of survival led by Thomas, a brave new addition to the Glade. The hero needs Teresa’s help, however, if he’s going to unlock the secrets of the maze and save everyone. The ending is pretty much what the viewer (who hasn’t read the book) expects based on setups earlier in the film but there are enough surprises and compelling performances to make for an enjoyable viewing experience. So go see The Maze Runner now, and when it comes time to enter the corn mazes this Halloween, you’ll be more than prepared for twists, turns, and monsters galore!

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Post Photo Courtesy of: en.wikipedia.org

Interrobang

-Poems Reviewed by Kendra Bartell–

Interrobang, Jessica Piazza’s debut collection, is a work gripped with obsessions. Each poem is either titled after a fear or love of something: Melophobia (fear of music). Asthenophobia (fear of weakness). Clithrophilia (love of being enclosed). Achluophilia (love of darkness). Almost every poem takes the form of a sonnet, but there is also a pantoum and ghazal. The choice to write in form, the epitome of linguistic and syntactic control, accentuates the central motifs of the book. The poems wrap themselves in layers of neuroticism: emphasizing sound, and tempo, thereby directing the reader’s annunciation of each line.

The collection delivers a vision of a splintered self. The (I) of one poem is inconsistent and suggests either multiple entities or personalities that shift, grow, multiply and fracture throughout the text. This technique enhances the connection between reader and speaker. In “Caligynephobia (fear of a beautiful woman)” for example, the speaker says “I carry who/I used to be/inside my heart,/a sleight of hurt,” prompting readers to recall scenes from their own past. Taken together the poems have the essence of a carnival hall of mirrors: the (I) encountered in one poem suddenly morphs into another form or is replaced by another reflection.

The poems’ titles serve as tiny keys that readers can utilize to unlock the mystery presented within the tight unit of the sonnet. Oftentimes, the speaker is presenting an image of the fear or love but at a slant. Take, for example, these lines from “Theophobia (fear of God):”

Amass no mass. I am the God I’ve known:
untaken turns unwrecking what wasn’t;
a cricket’s ticket punched when I crushed it.

At times, the title fear (or love) is contradicted by the content of the poem. Are readers supposed to fear the self-God the speaker presents, the image of a crushed cricket? Or is there a sense of pleasure in controlling one’s destiny? The speaker challenges the idea of God but then presents a puzzle rich with sonic qualities. Piazza tends to leave her quandaries up to the reader, and it is difficult but intriguing to try and pin down her poetic intentions.

The standout feature of Piazza’s poetry is undoubtedly her control of sound. Piazza has a trained ear, and readers will enjoy the beautiful images and emotions embedded in her rolling verse. She has an innate ability to form iambic pentameter lines that are subtle enough to not hammer themselves into your ear, but are strong enough to carry you pleasantly through the poems.

The red, the blue, the streak of orange stripe—
they’re everywhere; so, too, are sound and scent
and still, if all were still the air would pipe
its tactile breath nonstop like bakeries’ bent
street fans wafting out exhaust of bread at us
each morning, as we passed on 23rd.

These lines, taken from “Prolific” convey all the variations of meter and syntax that combine to create melodies throughout the collection. The force carrying each of the lines forward is subtle yet undeniable, and a quality ever present in each of the poems in Interrobang. Many form driven poets grapple with the challenge of maintaining a contemporary style and voice that doesn’t transport readers  back to Shakespeare’s time. Piazza, however, masterfully slips in rhyme schemes and measures of scenery that assert her voice and consciousness of the modern epoch of which she is a part.

Interrobang is an incredible ride sonically: Piazza includes alliteration, slant rhyme, and sonic echoes in each poem, creating a tight-knit unit that draws readers. At times, however, the syntax and rhetorical moves of the poems echo and become overwhelming. In a collection of such visually uniform poems, that feeling can drown out the pleasure of Piazza’s language. Readers are advised to spend time with only a few poems at a time. Let the voice sink in before reading more of the collection. That way, each poem’s revelation (or understated revelation) can hit full force.

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Post Photo Courtesy of http://www.jessicapiazza.com/

 

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Trampled by Turtles

-Performance Review by Diana Mumford–

Charlottesville, Virginia: Trampled by Turtles were a long way from their hometown of Duluth Minnesota when they played at the Jefferson Theater downtown last week, but the band received a warm welcome from fans in the form of a sold out show. The September 9^th show is a part of their current tour promoting their latest album, Wild Animals.

The show’s opener, Hurray for the Riff Raff, from New Orleans, awakened the crowd with their incredible chemistry and lead singer, Alynda Lee Segarra’s smoky voice. Segarra and the band’s honky-tonk sound soon had the audience on their feet, dancing. By the time Trampled by Turtles began its set, the venue was completely packed—there was barely any room for dancing, let alone breathing.

Trampled by Turtles took the stage and played as a backdrop of kaleidoscopic geometric shapes cascaded over the screen behind them.  The fast-paced songs gradually gave way to less frenetic pieces, and the lead singer, Dave Simonett, crooned his ballads illuminated by a projection of a full moon. Critics claim Wild Animals shows a softer side to the indie-folk/bluegrass band. After these quieter moments, the crowd shouted for old fast-paced favorites. The band acquiesced, and everyone in the audience sang along to Whiskey. “Whiskey, won’t you come and take my troubles?”

Perhaps better than their lyrics, the band is known primarily for its instrumental talent. Ryan Young, who plays the fiddle, is wonderfully matched with Erik Berry on the mandolin; fingers flying across their respective instruments. Tim Saxhaug on bass and Dave Carroll on banjo round out the band’s bluegrass sound. The ban’s relatable song lyrics and amazing instrumental riffs always draw large crowds, and the Jefferson Theatre was no exception.

Regardless of the band’s obvious musical talent, the slower tunes on Trampled by Turtles’ latest album show the band’s deliberate attempt at crafting songs with more poignant lyrics as opposed to engaging in a fast-paced instrumental spitting contest. The newly adopted woebegone melodies echo the album’s thematic focuses on vulnerability and loss. Wild Animals is an album bridging the gap between traditional folk-bluegrass and modern alternative influences, with down-tempo songs and ballads incorporating gospel and violins and including only a couple of their signature fast-paced songs fans have come to cherish.

When Trampled by Turtles left the stage, the crowd cheered for more. The band returned and performed a high-intensity version of Codeine—a song more alive in person as opposed to the studio version. “Codeine, codeine, you’re the nicest thing I’ve seen for a while, for a while.” This song, a fan favorite, pumped the previously stock still audience with incredible energy, ending the show on a high note. The merchant tables, previously passed over upon entrance to the venue, was packed as the crowd began its exit en masse.  Want more Trampled by Turtles? Catch them live by checking out their tour dates or visit their official website.

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Post Photo Courtesy of: http://www.perfectduluthday.com/

Blackstone Gallery owner Steven Thomas Higgins

Robert Vargas at work

3-D art by Musa Brooker at The Hive

painting at Blackstone Gallery

a completed portrait by Robert Vargas

artist Patrick Haemmerlein at The Hive

painting by -Rick Dienzo- Blanco at The Hive

painting by Bryan Kent Ward at The Hive

Walking the Arts

-Reporting by Eliza Newman– 

Los Angeles: Since 2004, the Downtown LA Art Walk has been drawing people to the city’s urban heart on the second Tuesday of every month. Prior to the arrival of hip gallery spaces and trendy new restaurants, “downtown” was best known for its abandoned buildings, frequent gang violence, and immense homelessness. The low property values and abundance of space—not to mention its proximity to the ever-“cool” Southern California Institute of Architecture—attracted artists and other creative types to the area long before the start of what many are calling “the downtown revival.” Now, however, the space is a thriving attraction.

“This used to be almost Skid Row,” says painter-owner Steven Thomas Higgins of the space that is now Blackstone Gallery. While looking for a restaurant to take over the space, the property owners “gave us this space for free just to have someone coming in to turn the lights on and off.”

Today, vividly colored nudes and abstract urban scenes dot the walls at Blackstone. There are no titles or artist names beneath the paintings and photographs. According to Higgins’ vision, art is not commercialized in this is a space, it is only appreciated.

A live band plays as patrons and admirers peruse the walls with cups of wine in hand. Dressed in flannel shirts and loose, flowery dresses, they may not be what first comes to mind when people think “art collector,” but sure enough these are the people who come month after month to the Downtown Los Angeles Art Walk.

Walkers are anxious to reach The Hive. The oldest gallery downtown, this hub of creative activity has become something of a miniature Art Walk. The gallery is full of chatter and lively debate as visitors peruse the edgy, pop culture-inspired art that covers nearly every free space in the gallery. Different DJs inhabit the gallery’s many rooms and engage the works on display with variable soundtracks, enhancing the already lively atmosphere. In addition, artists are present to talk about their creations, and visitors have the opportunity to see resident artists at work amid the gallery crowds.

“Downtown was always cool to me,” says Nathan Cartwright, artist and founder of The Hive. “I began working in a warehouse and from the very beginning I felt like there was real community down here.”

Walking through The Hive, it’s easy to see that Cartwright takes community seriously. Dozens of different artists have found a home in one of the gallery’s many nooks and crannies. Empowered by the unique space, the artists are encouraged to explore their mediums of choice and experiment. With studio spaces upstairs, The Hive offers artists the opportunity to create new art in a collaboration-friendly environment, similar to the massive warehouses that formed Cartwright’s first home for art creation in Downtown L.A.

The 35 galleries that participated in September’s Art Walk spanned across downtown, but the highest concentration was between 2^nd and 9^th Streets on either Main Street or Spring Street, Restaurants, shops, and bars stay open late to accommodate the buzzing crowds. Amateur artists gather in front of Spring Street Park and other empty stretches of sidewalk throughout downtown, offering smaller works of art—many a great find—for bargain prices.

Meanwhile, Los-Angeles-based artist Robert Vargas makes his monthly appearance on the streets of the Art Walk. Using charcoal and paint, he creates wonderfully detailed rapid-fire portraits of people he picks from the crowd. Vargas is not only a painter, but an archivist of Los Angeles’ social history, capturing the faces of locals on city walls and in restaurants.

The spirit and vivacity of the Art Walk has helped restore Downtown Los Angeles as a center for culture and community. From Bunker Hill to Little Tokyo to the Old Bank District, artists have come to call the ornate buildings their studios and galleries. They are turning old bank vaults, chocolate factories and movie theatres into vibrant creative centers. They are working within the existing framework of the city to create something new, something miraculously beautiful.

The Los Angeles’ art scene is well-known for its street art and public murals, but each month, as artists open their galleries to the public, visitors are gaining a greater appreciation for the skillful, innovative work coming out of downtown. What began as the vision of a few dedicated artists has helped expand Los Angeles’s vision of culture. The city’s about more than just cinema; it’s on its way to becoming a mecca of fine art.

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Post Photos Courtesy of Eliza Newman

“Art”

-Theater Review by Victoria Kennedy–

Baltimore, September 5, 2014: The Vagabond Theatre, in Fells Point, opened its 99^th season with a production of “Art” written by Yasmina Reza, translated by Christopher Hampton, and produced by special arrangement with Dramatists Play Service, Inc. Directed by Howard Berkowitz, “Art” explores themes of friendship, taste, status and individuality.

Serge, a dermatologist, has modernist interests in art and fancies himself a collector. When he unveils his latest acquisition, a white canvas with varying shades of white stripes, to Marc (Mark Scharf) and Yvan (Eric C. Stein), however, he is startled to find his friends unappreciative and his style questioned. His peers see the impressive piece as an affront, due to its high price tag and lack of personal appeal. In turn, their friendships are threatened.

Marc, a snobbish aeronautical engineer, believes Serge (Steven Shriner) was foolish to pay such an exorbitant amount for work of questionable artistic value. He delivers a humorous and sarcastic opening monologue that sets the tone for the play, describing the piece as “white… and if you screw up your eyes, you can make-out these fine diagonal lines.” Likewise, when Marc pays a visit to Yvan, who is an indecisive, custom-paper salesman, the two discuss the painting. They laugh mockingly at Serge’s expense, ridiculing the high price he paid for something neither would consider to be “art.” What ensues is a witty, comical and sophisticated performance.  The three men must discover their individual voices, learn to own their feelings and break confidences to arrive at a new understanding of friendship that accommodates and appreciates differences of opinion.

Steven Shriner and Eric C. Stein. Photo by Tom Lauer.

The ensemble cast is convincing in its individual roles – using dialogue that is often profane and biting.  Intelligent commentary revealed in monologues gives the audience additional insight into each character’s cynical observations. The humor with which each character confronts the deep-seated issues impacting their friendship varies, based on each of their personalities.  Marc is acerbic, often dropping one-liners meant to insult the intelligence or intentions of the others. Scharf’s facial expressions, as he delivers these blunt statements, draw easy laughter from the audience. Serge, on the other hand, is portrayed as accomplished but unsatisfied. He seeks validation from his friends in his quest to indulge his artistic interests. The poles established; Yvan vacillates between the two stronger personalities, afraid to own his opinions. At one point, Marc insists he has to choose between them. Yvan does, however, put his foot down at their very strong suggestion that he cancel his upcoming wedding but warns them he will “burst into tears,” at the prospect of his friends not attending.  Collectively, the audience is presented with a well-orchestrated comedy of manners exemplified by its tight repartee and witty comebacks.

The settings, (each character’s living room) evoke a contemporary art aesthetic, with shades of gray lining the walls in geometric shapes, a cream colored sofa and bar – all standard for each dwelling. One central piece of artwork, however, differs in each abode, thereby differentiating the male characters’ identities. Marc’s place has a classic landscape painting hanging. Yvan’s piece is a still-life that is – according to his friends – evocative of “hotel art.”  Serge’s space is the most avant-garde, defined by the painting at the center of the conflict. In the tradition of The Emperor’s New Clothes, the most important thing is what’s not being said:  Serge purchased his painting out of genuine love, not the opportunistic and pompous reasons Marc presumes.

Mark Scharf, Eric C. Stein, and Steven Shriner. Photo by Tom Lauer.

By the end of the performance, the modern piece has precipitated a serious crisis. Serge, Marc and Yvan realize they have built their friendship based on assumptions and a shared need for validation that runs deeper than initial appearances. Truthful confessions sting, causing the three friends to question their instinct to spend time together. When Yvan poses the question, “Why do we see each other, when we hate each other?”  a turning point is reached. The trio has an opportunity to act in the spirit of art and choose new ways of expressing themselves. Moving forward as friends, they have a chance to find laughter without stealing joy.

Prepare to be entertained and to see real-life dilemmas and scenarios addressed as the friends excavate the underlying issues uncovered by one friend’s foray into the world of Modern Art.  The show is running until September 28, 2014, at Vagabond Theatre.

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Post Photos Courtesy of Tom Lauer and http://vagabondplayers.org/

Evening Slides

-Poetry and Photography by Eliza Newman–

Boxing With You

Hovering under the overpass,
we were just kids,
senseless teenagers,
so selfishly aware.
We hung around
candy-covered storm drains,
insisted we walk on balance beams
and talk of diamond rings;
incapable of loving
for now,

We pawned ourselves,
swapping apple slices
for gummy worms,
squeezing out every last drop of sweetness
save a yellow lemon rind.
Our sweetness was replaced by bitter pith,
and like children too young for boxing gloves,
we gave it all up,
walked away.

***

Borboleta

I hope you never find my limbs
broken and mangled,
never see my deflated soul lying in a  pile
on a vomit-stained floor.
I hope you won’t be left with the pithy aftertaste
of a once-beautiful memento,
once painfully pure.

For years you let me frolic and play,
but while you were hiding
I was seeking and scraping my knees;
I was outgrowing my ballerina frocks
and pinky-sized tea sets.

I can’t tiptoe within your safety rails any more.

Tattered and inky, I found my wings—
secondhand, over-boozed, imperfect.
I refuse to amputate them,
no matter how much they may hurt.
I soar through thunderstorms,
thrashing my wings
against what I refuse to endure.
I am your little butterfly,
not so little anymore.

***

Post Photos Courtesy of Eliza Newman

Big Screen Streaming: Dead Poets Society

-Film Review and Tribute by Roger Market–

When Robin Williams died on August 11, 2014, “RIP” messages quoting memorable lines from his movies flooded the media. That night, a Walt Whitman quote that I first encountered as a teenager while watching the classic Williams film, Dead Poets Society influenced my own grieving process: “O Captain! My Captain!” When I heard Williams invoke those immortal words in his daring and charismatic style, I realized that he was not only a comedian, but also a versatile performer, capable of expressing a full range of complicated emotions and drawing the same from everyone around him.

High school poetry teacher, John Keating, (played by Williams) is not really the main character in Dead Poets Society, although he is definitely the central adult figure. The film is more of an ensemble piece, centering first on the young men at Welton Academy for Boys and then on Keating himself. The first scene pictures a group of boys, ages ranging from about 8 to 16, preparing for a procession in the school’s Catholic chapel at the start of the term. Keating enters the fray moments later, and from then on, his presence resonates.

On the first day of class, Keating surprises and disorients his poetry students by having them follow him outside the classroom to a trophy case in the hall. The look of alarm on the students’ faces reveals the rigidity of Welton’s code of behavior. Viewers and students alike are engaged. Next, Keating begins class with the famous Whitman quote mentioned above, stating that students may henceforth call him Captain…if they’re brave enough. Keating quickly proves himself to be a charming, confident leader, and a bit of a rebel. Williams digs deep for this scene, drawing from both his comedy skills and his dramatic prowess, illuminating both the makeshift classroom and the screen. His teaching methods are unique and refreshing, challenging the status quo at Welton in every conceivable way and setting the tone for the rest of the film.

The unorthodox excursion on the first day of school is only the tip of the iceberg. Throughout the semester, Keating inspires nonconformity, romance, and courage. At various points in the film, he has students tear unworthy pages from their textbooks, stand on top of his desk one by one, recite original poetry in front of the whole class, and, most importantly, go after their dreams—without apology.

Neil and Todd, the central student characters, are most affected by Keating. In fact, Neil (played by Robert Sean Leonard) becomes so inspired by Keating’s philosophy that he decides to go out for the lead in a community play with the goal of one day becoming a professional actor. When his father forbids him from acting, Keating encourages Neil to talk to him again. Gentle, yet insistent, Williams mentors his pupil with patience, providing the tools necessary for his student to succeed. As for the relentlessly shy Todd, played by a young Ethan Hawke, one pivotal scene has him trying to get out of reciting his poem, claiming that he didn’t write one. But Keating won’t let him slip away quietly. In fact, he gets Todd to stand up, to sound a “barbaric ‘YAWP!’” (another Whitman quote), and ultimately to create a poem on the fly. The scene is a wonder to behold and allows both Williams and Hawke to take center stage.

At the beginning of act two, some students consult Keating’s old yearbook in search of information about their teacher. Keating was once a Welton student himself, and they soon discover that he was part of a club called the Dead Poets Society. This group hosted clandestine meetings where they read the works of deceased poets. In the words of Henry David Thoreau, poetry inspired them to “suck out all the marrow of life.” This mission statement is yet another manifestation of the film’s carpe diem theme. With this backstory (and the meaning of the title) finally revealed, the plot surges forward. Following in Keating’s footsteps, the students decide to resurrect the club, with Neil assuming the unofficial leadership position. By now, Keating is well on his way to becoming the most-loved teacher at school. Indeed, he is his student’s captain.

While the second half of the movie is full of still more happy moments, the resurrection of the club is also the start of a slow unraveling. Tensions arise as club members overindulge in Keating’s lessons. The essential message “grab life by the tail” ultimately leads to the administration’s finding out about the secret, “dangerous” group. Head butting and increasingly drastic behavior ensue, leading up to a tragic climax that spells the end for the Dead Poets Society and even affects Keating’s career. The melancholy tone of the resolution sequence is broken only when the bravest students, led by the transformed Todd, take one last honorific stand—literally, atop their desks—to utter that memorable refrain out of respect for Keating: “Oh Captain! My Captain!”

The trailer suggests that Dead Poets Society is largely a feel-good romp throughout, but this is not really the case. Williams’ comic genius shines through vibrantly, presenting a positive and familiar carpe diem message, but the tone of the film is also quite serious, even somber. Indeed, the devastating depiction of suicide at the climax is apropos, considering Williams’ recent death; it may appeal to some viewers who enjoy a good emotional release, but they should be warned that it’s coming. I certainly didn’t have that luxury the first time I watched the movie. I enjoy catharsis, though, so I didn’t let the ending stop me when I needed a Williams movie to watch. As the memorials appeared, one after another, in my Facebook stream on August 11, my own sad thoughts converged on Captain Keating. I thought of how he inspired a classroom full of students to think for themselves, to go after what they want, to let the romance fly. I thought of how brilliantly Williams inhabited this beloved man and how that refrain will live on forever in my heart and mind, just as Williams will: “Oh Captain! My Captain!” It’s not the same without him—but at least it’s something.

***

Post Photo Courtesy of: ljacoby.wikispaces.com

These Things Do Happen

-Book Reviewed by Rachel Wooley–

These Things Do Happen, the debut collection by Ian Anderson, consists of five short stories set (mostly) in Baltimore. In four of the stories, the narrator is a male who seems to be grappling with his place in life. Characters in all of the stories face disappointment. Someone – a mother, a father, the niece for whom they provide, a partner in a failing relationship – has let them down. But there are no grudges, no righteous anger – only attempts to understand, and to survive the aftermath of that disappointment. In the title story, a store owner must decide what to do when his little grocery store – already failing against the chain stores that have moved into his neighborhood – is completely ransacked. In Baltimore Burning, a teenager deals with his mother’s attempt to burn down an entire city in retaliation for the wrongs she feels she’s been dealt. In Pass the Potatoes, Please, a son tries to obtain some closure after his estranged father commits suicide in a hotel in Topeka, Kansas. The collection doesn’t feature much in the way of happy endings, but the conclusion of each story feels right.

Anderson expertly creates atmosphere. Through his narrators, the reader gets an incredible sense of place – the dirt and desolation of Pimlico racecourse on a non-race day; the quirky characteristics of the aging row homes. But even better, perhaps, are his descriptions of the people. Consider Ann, in Stakes: “her nose was large and flattened like a piece of mishandled fruit,” Anderson writes. “She had the face of a pugilist, but her eyes were light.” Likewise, in Baltimore Burning, a teenage son, nicknamed Pea Pod, describes his mother: “I could see how even some of my male teachers looked at her, like she was the last stop for a train destined to head off a cliff. I almost hated her for being beautiful.”  These and other details that Anderson chooses to share about his characters’ personalities, their homes and habits, are revealing in unusual ways, embodying the odd, unpolished charm that Baltimore  is reputed to have.

This unique assortment of characters drives the collection. The plot points in each story, though sometimes a little crazy and certainly peculiar to the characters who experience them, are not completely unbelievable (dare I say “only in Baltimore”?). But Anderson uses his characters’ distinct contexts to create a universal empathy, allowing readers to relate to these people. You’ll want them to be “happy and free” from whatever they think holds them back (to paraphrase Pea Pod in Baltimore Burning). Each character exhibits impressive authenticity and humanity. According to the author, the characters in this collection believe that their best days are either behind them or are yet to come. Readers will connect emotionally with the struggles that are portrayed, hoping the characters don’t give in to resignation, but instead that they find those best days, either again or for the first time.

***

Post Photo Courtesy of www.goodreads.com, Book Cover Design by Ian Anderson