The first time I saw a Mark Rothko painting in class, I fell in love with his beautiful abstractions. I am fairly picky about the abstract art I enjoy, although my tastes have become broader since I began taking humanities classes. However, I didn't need to stretch my limits to accept Rothko's works as art: his incredible sense of the tender balance in colors between contrast and harmony, and his ability to gracefully sculpt the connections between colors (creating simultaneous definition and blurring) amaze me.
Rothko believed that his paintings were inherently spiritual. They were intended to create in the viewer a sense of something more than just an appreciation of his fusing of colors. In order to facilitate this type of deeper appreciation, Rothko did many of his colorfield paintings on huge canvases, and had them hung as low to the ground as possible. He even suggested that viewers stand as close as 18 inches from the painting, in order to feel immersed in the work. Essentially, he wanted his art to be experienced, not just observed. As an admirer of his work, I wish I had the opportunity to stand that close to an original. Even just seeing little thumbnails on a google image search, I have begun to feel some of the inner movement that I think intended viewers to experience.
To me, that inner motion comes in the form of music. I see music in his paintings; and after all, why not? There are some abstract painters (such as Wassily Kandinsky) believe there is a very strong connection between abstract painting and music. The blocks of color in Rothko's works shape themselves into chords and harmonies when I view them. For example:
I hear the lonely wail of a cornet over a solemn drumbeat; an elegy to the fallen soldiers in a battle. I hear the thrill of a celebratory may-pole dance. And I hear the beautiful interplay between a throbbing cello and the soft echoes of a vast concert hall. To me, this undeniable musicality marks incredible talent. It proves to me that Rothko wasn't just slapping on some colors and blurring the edges a little bit. He could feel the colors, and understood the emotional interplay between various hues. He knew that the human mind is deeper than "blue and white" or "orange, blue, and yellow." I appreciate that. I appreciate that Rothko allows me to see myself in his works, and strives to help me come to a deeper understanding of what is inside of me.
Elvis Presley was born in 1935 in Mississippi. He was raised in a religious family, and grew up singing in church services and the community. When he was discovered by Sam Phillips, who was thrilled to have found a white man who sung like he was black (a combination he was sure would be incredibly successful), Elvis quickly began to gain popularity with hits such as “Hound Dog” and “Heartbreak Hotel.” Now, he has been indicted into four musical halls of fame, won multiple Grammys, and is regarded as the King of Rock and Roll. His cultural significance is inestimable. Whether or not you enjoy his music, it is impossible to ignore the mark he has made on our culture since his explosion onto the musical scene. From Vegas impersonators to pop-culture references (such as the lyrics in a Katy Perry song “…dressed up like Elvis”), Elvis is undeniably a part of our nation’s heritage.
“All Shook Up,” the Elvis tune we chose to choreograph our dance to, was composed by Otis Blackwell, and recorded and released by Elvis in 1957. In less than three weeks, it claimed the #1 spot on the Billboard Top 100 chart, and it stayed there for 8 weeks. It also made its mark as #1 on the R&B chart for 4 weeks and #3 on the country charts. Although Elvis had many, many #1 hits in his career, this one is particularly significant because it was his first #1 UK single.
Any Elvis song is generally considered representative of rock ‘n’ roll; after all, he is The King. This song is particularly appropriate for a couple of reasons: first, it was one of his #1 hits; second, there is a musical featuring many of Presley’s songs titled “All Shook Up;” and thirdly, the song itself uses many familiar rock ‘n’ roll musical conventions such as a boogie woogie beat, a dominant piano (typical of rock ‘n’ roll in the early 50s), and a strong, consistent, backbeat.
After spending some time listening to various Elvis songs trying to choose one for our dance, I feel like I am starting to understand why he was such a hugely influential figure. Before this class, I had never listened to Elvis, and all I knew about him was that he committed suicide and Vegas was the place to go to see impersonators. Now, I have a general understanding of his personal history and his amazing talent and variety. His songs are lyrically and musically diverse (which surprised me, mostly because I knew very little about classic rock at all, and had minimal expectations for the genre). His musical progression over the years is incredible, and yet (with his gradual descent into addiction and depression) deeply saddening.
I learned a lot of new things working on this piece. First, that I love “Suspicious Minds.” Second, there was a good reason so many people loved Elvis: he’s amazing. And third, that I will probably always find something radically new to me in the world of music if I am willing to step outside my comfort zone and my generational bubble and admit that yes, I love listening to the music of (x) generation.
Blowin’ in the Wind I never realized how significant this song was in the 60s and even today. I suppose I should have guessed that at its importance simply because I know and recognize it, which I can’t say for very many songs of that era. To me, it sums up the feelings of frustration and regret that filled the young people of the 60s with its unanswered questions; repetitive, driving melody; and the expression of a wishful, elusive hope for solutions. I particularly like the Peter Paul and Mary cover – their soft, folky, lyricism speaks to me. Although my initial reaction to the song was to tie it firmly to anti-war sentiments of the time, I changed my mind when they began to discuss how hesitant Bob Dylan was to provide an explanation or interpretation of the lyrics. The commentators who discussed his response emphasized that perhaps Dylan’s refusal to offer a concrete interpretation was more appropriate than stubborn; after all, it allowed the song’s intentional vagueness to speak to many people in many situations. Personally, I started to see connections to personal frustrations – people and situations in my life that seem to make the same repetitive mistakes without ever learning from them – rather than just see it as a song written before my time for people who lived before my time.
Night and Day I really appreciated the elements of technical musical theory analysis included in this NPR clip, particularly the discussion of Porter’s use of the 7th chord after the opening drive. The harmonic structure of this 4-note chord – the three bottom notes form a major triad, while the top three form a minor triad - evokes feelings of frustration, desire, and perhaps even ambivalence. The reporters also noted the significance of the opening section: 8 bars filled with the same note repeated 30-something times, and how that contributed to the undeniable drive that fills the whole song. After hearing this analysis, I realized why I felt so pulled along by the song’s current: not only does the song speak to me poetically (as it does to anyone who has ever been in love, I think), it is also mechanically structured to have that effect. Towards the end of NPR’s segment, they discussed the personal life of the composer: how he was a wanderer (although he was happily married for more than 30 years, he had multiple homosexual affairs), his international acclaim, and his wealthy lifestyle. His roving eye, in particular, lent a deeper meaning to the song for me. I can easily imagine Porter feeling the drumming, relentless need for a lover that he poetically describes in “Night and Day” - knowing that he shouldn’t, but needing it badly enough to pursue it anyway.
Symphony of Psalms Although I have performed this piece (as a member of the choir), I never knew much about the history or background. I found the brief exposition on Stravinsky’s personal life during the composition particularly enlightening. It was composed between the two world wars, a time of great world turmoil. Not only was Stravinsky living in a politically charged world, but his personal world was also exceptionally turbulent at the time: he was under financial duress, and his marriage was crumbling because of his affair. These emotions are expressed beautifully in the rhythmic, desperate, animalistic cries of the brass and wind replete throughout the work. Although I have always appreciated the power of the work, I never realized how potentially personally expressive it was. Interestingly, Stravinsky denied having expressed any part of himself in the work. Although I knew that the orchestration for “Symphony of Psalms” was unusual, I didn’t realize how unusual it was until the reporter said something to the effect of “the musicians had to play musical chairs to get in place to perform.” The absolute absence of violins and violas is incredible – no wonder the piece has such a different feel. In thinking about the unusual sound of the work before, I have always focused on his erratic rhythms and highlighting of the brass, not realizing that a great part of it was also due to the lack of half the string instruments. This piece was already special to me because of the incredible experience I had performing it in Carnegie Hall as part of the National High School choral festival. However, learning more about it has opened new avenues of interpretation and understanding for me: I can see connections between the relentless, forceful sounds of symphony and my personal turmoil, because of the real-world historical insights that were highlighted in this episode.
My high school choir in Carnegie Hall, rehearsing before the performance of Stravinsky's "Symphony of Psalms" and Poulenc's "Gloria"
"Stage Door" is a play about a group of aspiring actresses living in a boarding house in New York City.It is set during Great Depression. It has been adapted into a movie of the same name.
Historically, the Great Depression hit the world of Broadway just as hard as everywhere else.The number of running shows decreased dramatically, and actors (who, as a whole, are largely unemployed even during periods of economic stability) were struggling to survive.During this time, many stage performers were recruited by Hollywood, and left for California on multi-year contracts with studios.The studio system was rapidly approaching its peak (Hollywood’s “Golden Age” was primarily in the 30s and 40s) and as a result, many theatre people abandoned Broadway in favor of the more stable, albeit less “artistic” Hollywood. The study guide written by the production's Dramaturg provides some excellent additional insight into the role of women in the 30's and the studio system. It's online at http://www.byuarts.com/downloads/Stage_Door_Study_Guide.pdf
I found significant evidences of the influence of the Social Realist movement in this play.It was written in the 30s, in the middle of the movement.In particular, I noticed three things: the glorification of the dedicated, perseverant working class; the implied moral lesson in Keith Burgess’ views, and the unabashed portrayal of the ugly side of things.
All of the girls who live in the boarding house are aspiring actresses.Some of them have more talent than others, and some are more successful in their searches than others.Despite this, they all got along amazingly well. They supported each other in their triumphs and disappointments, sometimes even paying rent for those who had been out of work for so long that they couldn’t.This respectful, glorifying portrayal of the lower classes is very much in line with the communist/socialist undertones in Social Realism.
“Stage Door” may be about acting, but it certainly isn't about glamorous starlets and fabulous parties. The only girl who succeeds financially in the play is painted as a villain because she abandons the art of the stage for the lure of Hollywood.Even when she comes back to New York to visit, she isn't connected with her friends at the boarding house anymore, because her life has been consumed by her fame as a Hollywood pretty girl.Another girl commits suicide later in the play, after she is fired from her part in a show.Even the girls who manage to land roles are frequently not employed for long, because whatever show they were cast in closes.
Keith Burgess’ character is the most obvious Social Realism element in the play.In the beginning of the play, it quickly becomes apparent that he has socialist/communist political leanings: every play he writes and everything he says is about the masses, the people, and the message. He hates Hollywood and its pretty, sappy portrayal of life, and he is determined to write a play about the truth and get it produced.However, he is corrupted by the lure of Hollywood's corrupt but lucrative capitalism, and abandons his ideals for a prosperous career writing junk for Hollywood hits.His symbolic decision to leave Broadway and move to California is portrayed as entirely negative: he is undoubtedly a fallen character.
I thoroughly enjoyed this production.It offered a wonderful insight into the clashing worlds of Hollywood and Broadway in the 1930s and the political tension that was inescapably part of that clash.
By the 1870s, relations between Native Americans and white immigrants began to deteriorate rapidly. Massacres like Sand Creek, Wounded Knee, and the Trail of Tears exemplified the prevailing attitude held by the white population that the indigenous peoples were subhuman, and their existence interfered with the Manifest Destiny of the United States. However, there were a few individuals who recognized the beauty of these civilizations and strove to understand them: one of these people was a painter named Joseph Henry Sharp. His respectful, documentary-style paintings of Native Americans directly challenged the common perception of the Native American as savage and sub-human. “Evening Council,” an undated painting of an anonymous group of Indians, is no exception to this style. However, to someone unfamiliar with Sharp’s attitude toward the indigenous peoples of America, the painting could be interpreted as an ignorantly curious snapshot into the lives of the “savages.”
As an aspiring artist, Sharp travelled to Europe where he spent two years studying realist techniques. He returned to America, and in 1883, he travelled out west for the first time, and discovered his passion for the native peoples of America. However, he still felt that his training was incomplete, so he returned to Europe a few years later and spent two additional years studying art in Paris. Afterwards, he spent most of the remainder of his life living with and painting the plains Indians and Taos tribes in New Mexico. Throughout his career, he strove to “respect…Indian customs…and reflect…reverence for Indian manners and ways.” (Shaefer and Steele 15) Unlike many other artists who had tried to capture the Native American, Sharp took the time to get to know his subjects, and to understand their traditions and ways of life. (Fenn 111) In stark contrast with the prevailing attitude towards Native Americans during Sharp’s lifetime, Sharp sided with the Indians. He “wondered what right the government of anyone else had to interfere with Indian traditions.” (Fenn 161) Unfortunately, in a society that was largely ignorant of those “manners” and “ways,” his paintings, such as “Evening Council,” could have been misinterpreted.
Stylistically, the painting is most identifiably connected with the realist tradition in which Sharp was trained. The image is largely representational: the figures and objects are proportional, the colors are life-like, and the setting is easily recognizable. The image does not attempt to capture life exactly how it appears, like a photograph, but it is far from abstract. The brushstrokes are soft, but visible: this contributes to the reverent feeling of the image, especially in the graceful flow of the pine needles and the thoughtful curls and arcs of the smoke from the fire. The subjects’ faces are indistinct – again, revealing Sharp’s respectful sensitivity towards the customs of the people he painted.
To emotionally sensitive viewers, Sharp’s exceptional respect for Native American culture is beautifully evident in “Evening Council.” It is a simple scene, depicting eight Native Americans gathered around a fire under the light of a bright moon. Sharp’s respect is clearly manifest by the polite distance he keeps from their council – as a viewer, it is obvious that while you may be curious to know exactly what is happening, it is not your place to know. The people depicted are very real – not caricatured. They are comfortable with each other and with their surroundings, and they are participating in intelligent, meaningful conversation. This portrayal is precisely the opposite of the general cultural perception of the natives as savage, subhuman creatures in need of civilizing.
Unfortunately, to those people who viewed the Indians as savages, this painting could have been misinterpreted, and the message of respect and acceptance completely lost. Those very attributes that serve to emphasize Sharp’s respect – such as the distance from the subjects, the graceful brushwork, the indistinct faces, and the unclear purpose of the council – could be construed as expressions of the general misunderstanding of the cultures. The distance from the subjects could just as easily be out of fear as respect. The graceful, shadowy brushwork creates an unfamiliar, almost magical aura around the Indians – and what is unfamiliar is scary and must be changed so that it is understood. This scary unfamiliarity is further emphasized with the lack of distinction in the faces of the subjects. By obscuring their facial features, Sharp eliminated a primary avenue of human communication and made it very difficult for viewers unfamiliar with the culture to guess at the emotions of the subjects, or to even know if they had emotions to be guessed at. Essentially, by avoiding clarity in his subjects’ faces, Sharp failed to break down a barrier between the natives and the ignorant newcomers. Similarly, by offering no clues in the painting or its title as to the subject or nature of the “council,” Sharp shrouds these already misunderstood people in even deeper secrecy.
Both of these interpretations played a part in my understanding of the painting. I passed through three recognizable fazes: my initial response in the museum, my response to the information I learned about it and my analysis of it, and then my synthesized, thought-out reaction. In the context of the museum, I saw the painting as a visually attractive representation of the romanticized American wilderness. Many of the other paintings in the exhibit featured glorified landscapes and picturesque oneness with the environment. Because of this environment of idealization, I became lazy in my observation of the paintings: in other words, I reacted similarly to how many people in Sharp’s day would have. I saw a strange culture doing something I didn’t understand, so I fell back onto my preconceived notions of the Native American cultures and entirely missed the message of acceptance and respect. As I learned more about Sharp’s life and his goals in painting these people, I quickly distanced myself from everyone who would have misinterpreted his intentions, and imagined myself and the painting as honest, real, and absolutely willing to go against common cultural perceptions. Unfortunately, this understanding is just as incorrect as my initial reaction; it is only with a synthesis of these two opposing views that I can truly represent my understanding of this work of art. I cannot fully separate myself from my initial, aesthetic reaction to the work: it is beautiful, and it is strange to me. However, I realize that there is more for me to understand, and I try to understand that.
While Sharp may not have portrayed the Native Americans in “Evening Council” in such a way that all the misconceptions of his time period were addressed and corrected, he succeeded in teaching me - and perhaps others - something more about their culture. While I don’t understand everything, I understand the beauty, and his passion inspired me to understand more.
Joseph Henry Sharp
Note: To learn more about Sharp and his work, I recommend "The Beat of the Drum and the Whoop of the Dance:A Study of the Life and Work of Joseph Henry Sharp" by Forest Fenn.
Although I’m interested by the social implications of the portrait, I feel most compelled by the dynamic energy exuding from Mme. Gautreau.She is confident, sexual, comfortable, aloof, and determined.Everything about her posture, from her long neck to the way her right arm extends, implies that she is a woman who can fend for herself.The brashness of her confidence is almost overwhelming, especially for a woman of the 1800s.The facts of her life up to that time – she was an American expat climbing rapidly up through the social sphere of Paris – indicate the kind of confidence that she displays in this portrait.
However, confidence isn’t the only energy coming from the portrait.There is a different, more subtle variety of that aura that comes primarily from her face: the slightly arched eyebrows, the staring eyes, and the totally relaxed lips.As Wikipedia tells it, “Gautreau was bored by the process of sitting.”In short, she accepted his request to paint her portrait, but tired of it quickly.I love that that aspect of her personality rises through the brushstrokes: it’s beautiful.
As a theatre student, I’ve learned to search for emotions in others, because that is how I connect on stage and in analysis.I love being able to connect in that way with art other than theatre.Every time I do, I learn a little bit more about the power of any kind of art to portray humans for what we really are underneath our socially acceptable facades: deeply emotional beings with living, interactive energies that affect everyone around us.
Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portrait_of_Madame_X
American Art: A Cultural History by David Bjelejac
For my American Humanities class this semester, I'm required to post my essays and thoughts for the class on a blog. For convenience's sake, I'm using the same blog I used for London - lazy, right? Whatever. Anyway, until December (when the class ends) I'll be posting only things for my class. If you're interested, go ahead and read. If you're not, I really don't blame you! This first entry is a creative writing assignment: an essay based off of Mark Twain's essay "The War Prayer" (http://www.midwinter.com/lurk/making/warprayer.html - read it, it's a beautiful piece of satire!)
The Tea Party Conundrum
It was a time of great anticipation: the country was spellbound by the ever-present campaign slogans overflowing from radios, televisions, town halls, and spamboxes: midterm elections were on. Campaign trails blazed across the country as Democrats and Repulicans went head to head in heated debates and powerful speeches; tax-deductible donations came rolling in, occasionally resulting in lawsuits against over-generous corporations; special interest lobbyists clogged the roadways of Washington DC; political analysts on every news-station worked endless overtime; political science professors assigned extra homework to encourage their students to be better citizens; packed meeting halls listened, entranced, to flowing speeches which inspired even the most uninterested of sports jocks and rich girls to choose a candidate and cast a ballot; indeed, golden, heroic, beautiful promises for a better nation, honest politics, and the American dream inspired every eligible citizen to declare allegiance to a candidate.Piercing through the middle of all the excitement and beautiful promises, however, was one enduring question on the mind of every voter, on the lips of every reporter, and on the front page of every paper: which candidate will cut my taxes?The occasional bold reporter who dared to interview a candidate without focusing on his plan to help the American people recover from the devastating economic downturn was immediately censured to such a degree by colleagues, employers, and viewers, that for the sake of their careers they immediately discarded the determination to provide well-rounded pictures of the candidates in question and stuck primarily to tax cuts and economic stimulus.
Finally, Monday morning came – the next day the people would flock to courthouses, town halls, and schools to cast their votes; the tension was high, the faces of everyone alight with the excitement of participating in the selection of those who would soon govern our great country.Politicians were delivering final speeches, each determined to outdo the others: shouts of “I promise to lower your taxes,” “Look at his history – he’s always voted against tax reformation,” and “I’ll bring Americans back to prosperity – I’ll let you keep your hard-earned money!” filled the air.
Abruptly, the chaos fell silent, drowned by a thick cloud describable only as Reason Incarnate.Television screens all over the country no longer displayed the familiar images of candidates at podiums surrounded by microphones and flashing camera lights; the radio waves no longer broadcast the familiar sounds of interviews and speeches; in their place was the voice and face of Reason Incarnate.Reporters sat back, stunned, and the entire nation froze in confusion and curiosity.For some moments the mysterious being contemplated his spell-bound audience, and then he began to speak.
“I have heard your demand,” he said, “and I will grant it if that is what you truly desire after I, The Candidate of Reason, express to you the implication of such a demand – that is to say, the full implication; indeed, it asks for more than they who demand it are aware of, unless they be forced to pause and think.
“You have made your demands.Have you paused and taken thought?Is it only one demand?No - it is many: one uttered, and many left in shadow, unnoticed and uncomprehended.But both have been heard by me, Your Candidate, and I stand ready to fill them all.Ponder these next words: keep them in mind before you cast your final vote.If you ask for the blessing of lower taxes, beware, unless you unwittingly bring a curse upon yourselves and your nation.Your request demands that more harm than good to come upon you – especially in your times of greatest need.
“You have heard your own demand – the uttered part of it.I am brought into being from the silenced worries of your candidates, that I may put into words the rest of your demand – the part which all of you uttered silently in your hearts.Ignorantly and unthinkingly?Assuredly so.To every hopeful Senator, every potential Governor, you spoke aloud the words “lower our taxes or we will never elect you, much less re-elect you.”That is sufficient: the whole of the demand is compacted into these few words. However, it now falls upon me to elaborate.To expose the truth underneath your shallow demands, and to show you that as you exacted promises of decreased taxes, you also exacted promises for what would surely follow such measures.Listening candidates wept, but were powerless to express the consequences of your demands, for they knew that you would not listen, but would instead disgracefully shunt them out of the race in favor of candidates who spoke less candidly of the consequences you would face.Now, I put into words the things these future leaders heard, but dared not warn against!The things you said in your hearts without comprehending in your minds!
“We go out from all walks of life to the polls today – heed our desires or be beaten out by one who will!Above all, we desire lower taxes that will allow us to keep more of our money in our pockets - an easing of the strain of government’s burden on us!Candidates, lower our taxes, and take away from us the security and peace of Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security, and leave our elderly helpless and penniless in their time of greatest need; indeed, eliminate those tax-funded services forever, so that we ourselves may suffer in the end of our lives without aid or pension from those who rule us.Sharply decrease funding to our national public school system, so that our teachers will be more terribly underpaid and our youth will pathetically trail even further behind their Asian and European counterparts.Allow our highways to rot and crumble into pothole after deadly pothole; cease to plow our roads in the icy winters, repair our stoplights in busy intersections, and enforce safe driving laws.Unlock and empty every last federal penitentiary and allow their dangerous, criminal inhabitants to roam our country uninhibited by laws or penalties.Sell our national parks to developers to be exploited and destroyed.Cease to fund the FDA and bring our country back to the meat-packing days of the 1800s.Drain funding from the CIS, the FBI, the Pentagon, and our military; allow our country to be easily infiltrated, exploited, and destroyed by those who wish us harm, and force us to abandon the many weak, oppressed nations that we currently support with our troops and intelligence; and after you have effectively disbanded the military, abandon all of the dedicated men and women that served our country: yes, withhold medical care, counseling, retirement funds, college educations, and memorial services.Leave inner-city slums to become unregulated gang turf, and allow the families of those areas to struggle for survival through the chaos of drug wars.Please, after environmental disasters such as Hurricane Katrina and the BP oil spill, leave those who have lost professions, homes, family members, and health to fend for themselves in the bleak aftermath.Leave us ungoverned, unsupported, and unregulated.This we demand of you, our dedicated and patriotic candidates.Leave us not unsatisfied.
“You have demanded it.If you still desire it, speak, and we will fulfill.The future government of your country awaits your response.”
For months after the election, confused citizens struggled to remember what they had been doing for that hour the day before the election: all who spoke of it expressed the same vague memory of an unnerving feeling that they needed to "be responsible, or else" but nobody knew why. Equally confused political analysts tried desperately to account for the sudden increase in viewer interest regarding issues such as public schooling, military campaigns, and the law enforcement system.
I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I'm a full-time student at BYU, I'm gluten-intolerant (so it's a good thing I like to cook, because I have to do a lot of it :).
