Goya Lopes: The African Diaspora in Brazil

by Tera Baumgardner

            I took two walks around the Goya Lopes: The African Diaspora in Brazil exhibit in the [C]Spaces Gallery at Columbia College Chicago, to try and take a few different perspectives. My first approach was to follow Susan Sontag’s advice and return to my senses allowing myself to see the fabrics and not try to figure the meaning behind them.  Aside from all the textiles being beautiful each one had a different effect on me. There was a textile at the front that was just a feel good kind of pattern; on a bright green fabric there was a pattern of a tree that was repeated. The pattern and the color drew me in and it was aesthetically pleasing. However, I felt like the start of this exhibit pulled people in with feel good patterns and then took a powerful swing at the gut. There was one textile in particular that from a far was gorgeous and then up close it socked me good. It’s toward the end of the far wall, it is on navy blue fabric with what looks like a giant rod-iron gate image, when up close we see that slaves are in chains and the image in the middle in particular was a person in a muzzle. Even though it was one of the best textiles it was also the one that made me the most uncomfortable. Talk about playing with emotions.  

Walking around the room clockwise, it was apparent there was a story to follow. Starting with cave-like images on the first textile followed by classic African symbols, then goes into times of slavery followed by religion and wrapped up with more symbols and patterns. Many of the textiles had very simple patterns on them, but just because they were simple does not mean they are not strong, they are. Looking at the exhibit as a whole, I really enjoyed it. It wasn’t the first exhibit I would have chosen to go see, but I am thoroughly glad that I did. Something that really stood out to me about this exhibit was the way it was set up. When standing in front of a single textile it engulfs people with its substantial size was.  When I was looking at the art work on the fabric I noticed that it seemed to come alive; part of the reason for this is the fabric is not tied down, when another person walks past it caused the fabric to have little ripples.  It’s a small detail, but the fact that the bottom of the textiles were not tied down is a quality that made the exhibit that much more enjoyable for me. Whether that was intentional or not it helps bring the images to life. Even without having a personal connection with African culture, I was still able to follow the story Goya Lopes created. I believe that people should take some time to step outside what they know and open their minds if not eyes to see art they normally wouldn’t.  

Review on Goya Lopes: The African Diaspora in Brazil

by Brian Schuch

Goya Lopes’ gallery exhibit at [C]Spaces at Columbia College Chicago is entitled “The African Diaspora in Brazil” and consists of many of her prints hung from the rafters.  These prints were full width cuts of the finished product, pure, untainted, and allowing me to focus on what was on the fabric rather than the fabric itself.  I was assaulted by these oversized canvases which seemed to scream “look at me”.  The prints told a story, but you wouldn’t know it unless you looked at them.  It was like opening a history book and seeing through the eyes and souls of people past.  Each textile curbs your curiosity to the next.  And although each piece can stand alone it is their combination which makes them so powerful.

            The first image is like a hall of mirrors, you know what it is but you just cannot find your way through it.  Frustration, smell of clouds, it brings about feelings of an old hope.  It’s quick, hollow, evolving.  It continues to the Africans respect of nature and their heritage, jealousy I want one of these fabrics.  From color to shapes and symbols to symbols inside of shapes, the heritage of the past influences the art of the present.  From the highest highs, to the lowest lows, Goya’s enslavement section depicts the horrors in people’s lives.  Sadness, shock, awe what comes to mind when the colors start to fade away and you are only left with black and grays.  Strong, straightforward, bold taken from different styles Gothic, roman, and ones a map.  From here the prints turn back to a livelier theme, emancipation, reintegration and hope for the future.  The bold colors of the later print bring movement and a sort of rhythm to the piece.  The whole exhibit displays a sense of change and immortality, through it we learn things will never be the same and that the culture and heritage of a country will never be forgotten. 

Goya Lopes: The African Diaspora in Brazil

by Olivia Cole

 Woven in with the vibrant colors of Goya Lopes’ intricately-designed textiles is a rich history of African Diaspora in Brazil, the story in the fabric beginning in the Motherland and then stretching all the way through history; from slavery to revolution, and into the vivacious culture of present-day Bahia.

While Lopes sometimes allows the viewer to identify symbols such as Shango (the thunder god) on their own and interpret them as we see fit, she also uses the design in her fabric to explicitly describe a piece of African history with little left to the imagination once the viewer realizes what it is that she is looking at. One such example of overt story-telling is found in a piece whose design exhibited the way in which Africans were transported across the ocean in slave ships as cargo rather than human beings. The design, when seen from a farther distance, at first appears to be only an intricate pattern and nothing more. But upon further inspection one can see the shapes of bodies arranged in the typical grave-like formation, packed into the design of the ship like so many sardines.

Many of Lopes’ designs are this way: beautiful and complicated from a distance, and laden with—sometimes tragic—history when viewed up close, while still keeping their artistic beauty. The vivid colors do not distract from the message Lopes tries to get across: if anything, they make the experience more real, more captivating.

The reality of the Diaspora is also helped along by the layout of the Lopes exhibit. One can still appreciate the beauty of the pieces by viewing them in alternate order, but the experience is magnified if viewed in the historical/chronological order in which they are arranged. The pieces clearly exhibit the ways of life before slaving began, followed by the chaos and violence of the process of slavery, followed by a rebuilding of culture, and then the transition into the present day situation in Bahia, where culture is alive with African and Brazilian influence, the pieces celebrating food and sensuality and festivals, including Carnival. The very solid position of the textiles hanging around the exhibit gives the feeling that the culture is strong and continuous, steadfast in the face of much abrupt and unwelcome change.

But the cloth is used in a different way as well, coiling around the central pillars of the exhibit in a rainbow of taut energy. Not only does this colorful display separate the past and present of the exhibit and of the culture, but it represents how the African spirit bends and intertwines, boldly overlapping with the past to create something unique and distinctly inspiring.

 

Goya Lopes: The African Diaspora in Brazil

by Daniel Zarick

After the time spent in the Goya Lopes exhibit in the Glass Curtain Gallery at Columbia College Chicago there is only one word I can really use to describe her accomplishment. That word of description is that Ms. Goya Lopes has “prevailed” over her ancestors’ hard-pressed times they were presented with, and she has grown from them as well. I have been greatly inspired by her interesting fabric designs and the creative, beautiful stories they tell.

Once in the gallery I followed the different textile designs around the outside wall of the gallery in their intended, chronological viewing order. This helped to paint a fantastic picture of African history and their struggle to overcome the obstacles placed before them, such as years of crooked European trading and slavery, and then their eventual prevailing efforts.

With each different design there is a different piece of Goya’s history and personality embedded in. The designs each incorporate different smaller designs that symbolize many aspects of African culture and bring the fabrics to life, in a certain sense.

The beauty of the continuous motion from one design to the next was part of what made Goya’s exhibit so enticing and gratifying. I felt a connection to her feelings, her past, and her ancestors. I would surely suggest anybody remotely interested in African history, textiles, or art in any form to take their turn with Goya Lopes’s designs.

Review of Goya Lopes’ Exhibit: African Diaspora

by Fred Glander
Through this brilliant array of color and cloth one can trace the ancestry of African culture in Brazil. The sheets of cloth are fifteen feet in height, and hang down suspended from above. An Introductory video runs explaining to exhibit goers how Goya Lopes and her twenty or so workers make these works of art. She’s a gorgeous woman, a fashion designer by trade. Moving further into the room you notice very primitive looking shapes. Golden hunter/gathers moving across a dark canvas, then the tree of life, then the development of a culture; iron works, African deities. Soon after that you notice an introduction of European faces to the mix. Then slavery, bondage, the middle passage, shackles, and slave camps. After that the African world and the new world seem to collide in a new way; In a way more cohesive. African religions blend together with Christianity. This fusion sparks cultural development. Then a renaissance of ideas, finally a celebration of life and food.

Function equals form. And you realize very quickly that Goya Lopes isn’t going to sow these into dresses. These textiles aren’t for mass distribution. They aren’t going to be brought to market. They have a message. They have a specific purpose and a specific order. They have a lot to say individually but its not until you see them together as a whole, do you understand Goya Lopes and her own unique world view. What’s intriguing about this work is its range of styles. Most of the styles imitate those of a particular time period or cultural setting. What’s most surprising is that all of these are all Goya’s personal designs.

Goya Lopes: The African Diaspora in Brazil is a display of maturity, from an artist who transcended the realm of fashion design to create something that is both personal and true. ‘African Diaspora’ will be on display in the Glass Curtain Gallery at 1104 S. Wabash. South Loop. Chicago till February 29, 2009.

Repast: Elizabeth: the Golden Age by Jeff Bucina

In post 911 America, I would have to say that guns, violence, war and the understanding that bad things happen on a daily basis are commonplace thoughts in the everyday lives of Americans. It is present in every art medium of the present day. You know the saying, we are a product if our environment, we can’t help it, that’s reality. It is no wonder then that most top selling video games are military based, first person, weapon toting, kill the other side because they’re different then you and a threat, type of games like HALO. Or that the most watched TV dramas are ether about the police, ER doctors, or CIA FBI top-secret op. type shows.

The everyman likes violence and misfortune in TV programming thus we have five or six CSI’s and a heaping hand full of Doctor drama-dies. Violence sells. It’s in music; music is even blamed for violence. Pardon me for not going into music any deeper but that is a whole other beast. So once again it is know surprise that many of the movies coming out now a days employ the same mentality. Movies like The Kingdom, The Brave One, and We Own the Night, that one with Kevin Bacon, all begin to seem the same to me. What if I’m in a mood for something different? Well there are always the fantasy world epics with the monsters, dragons, wizards and evil queens. But all that is sometime hard to take and over worked like the Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Eragon, and Stardust. There needs to be something else.

I haven’t seen a lot of movies at the theatres lately because a lot of what’s been coming out I plain out do not what to see or I’ll wait for it to come out on DVD and I’ll rent it through the internet. But when my fiancé told me that the sequel to Elizabeth was coming out we made plans to see it opening night. The night before we went to see Elizabeth: The Golden Age, we watched the 1998 movie to get all the characters in our heads and a sense of where the story left off. In a way I was preparing myself for what I was going to see, trying to get in to the state of mind of royalty in the age of kings and queens. I was trying to leave behind modern warfare and homeland threats, technology and explosive projectiles and put myself in a primitive, uncertain simpler time.

Driving to the theatre the next day, I started to think about what it was like to live in the 1500s, a time with out cars, power lines, and pollution. I wondered how life would be with out modern medicine or electricity. I pulled into the moderately filled parking lot and park my ‘93 Lincoln, after seeing a guying pulled over by a police car. After buying movie food that cost more then the tickets, we went right to the ticket check because the Internet is a beautiful thing and found some seats near the middle the theatre just in time for the start of the movie.

From the get go The Golden Age kept the same feel as the first. The portrayal of color and shadow was shown with the up most care. The colors from scene to scene where telling the story just as much as the acting. The rich blues and deep reds over the pale white skin of the Queen played once again by Cate Blanchett were captivating. The Queen’s wardrobe was exquisitely done, as was all the 1500s dress. I feel they spared no detail on recreating the overall look of the time period. But the way they portrayed the queen in her body paint, elaborate wigs and beautifully crafted gowns was magnificent. She looked holy, untouchable, and perfect. This attention to detail and color was ultimately brought together by shot composition which mimicked Baroque paintings, the use of shadows and color to define and frame characters and actions. I’d have to say that is a clever and convincing way to depict this kind of story. While I watched I stayed interested in the movie at some of its low point merely because it look so nice.

The look got me in to the story, but Cate Blanchett kept me there. From the first movie Elizabeth on to her roll as Galadriel, the Elvin Queen, in the Lord of the Ring trilogy and back to her roll as Queen of England, she does a royal job. The fact that the last movie was made nine years ago completely added to this one as well. Many of the main actors returned and for the storyline showed the passing of time in Elizabeth’s rule. Her rule is established in this movie and we see the trails and struggles of ruling a country, but the glimpses of the queen behind closed doors stayed in my head. These are the moments when we see the personal, human side of the woman, the role model, and the ruler. Her concerns with aging and the long preparation to keep up and image of excellence made me think of the super stars of our day having the same problems. Britney Spears shaved her head, as did the queen. No one in Hollywood seems to stay married; the queen never was married. Trump throws richie upper class events and the Queen had her Court. The new royalty is stardom.

The movie was not all fun and games there were serious concepts at the root of the story. Disagreements in religious beliefs sparked the story from the beginning. And cultural differences gave rise to a war between Spain and England. As I watched I couldn’t help but to draw parallels between what happened in history shown in the movie and the World as it is in 2007. We still fight over the same things we did in the past. For money, for oil, for land, for faith, for country, for power we still fight. Never learning from past mistakes.

When the movie ended my fiancé and I walked back to the car in the now emptying lot. I must confess that I was left wanting more, which can be a good thing or a bad thing. I was so in to the movie’s look it could have gone on forever but the storyline did have its shortcomings. Driving away from the theatre I thought, we are intrigued by battle because we are a battling species. We repeat our history for we are our history, it in us as a whole. Violence sells because we like it. It wouldn’t if we didn’t. I can’t say I’m against it because I play the military games and watch primetime television. I went to see The Kingdom and make music about my surroundings. But I at least know that for about to hours I got away from modern life and was captivated by the beauty of a motion picture.

The Cider House Rules, revisited by Ric Hess

John Winslow Irving made his literary debut at the age of 26 with the publication of his first novel, Setting Free the Bears. Two books and ten years later, The World According to Garp became a international best-seller and Mr. Irving was able to set aside teaching and devote himself full time to the development of his career as a writer.

Seven years after Garp, in 1985, Mr. Irving published The Cider House Rules, a
sprawling novel, set in Maine, and one whose central theme examines the thorny debate that surrounds the topic of abortion – and the degree to which women should be allowed to control the development of an unborn child, specifically when that fetus is doing its developing in their own womb.

As The Cider House Rules makes clear, there are no easy answers here. The novel, weighing in at 576 pages, needs every one of those pages for Mr. Irving to fully develop his narrative. Irving establishes both liberal and semi-conservative arguments surrounding abortion early on, through the vehicle of the novel’s protagonist, the differently educated young medical apprentice, Homer Wells.

Homer comes of age on the grounds of an antiquated and hopelessly rural orphanage, Saint Cloud’s, Maine, an institution cobbled together near a failed logging village of the same name, a place that, despite several attempts, Homer cannot seem to escape. The kindly, eccentric headmaster of the orphanage is one Wilbur Larch, a doctor and ether addict who offers to the women who make their way to his frozen clinic a choice. Larch, “…help(s) them have what they want. An orphan or an abortion.” Larch is decidedly what would be called today pro-choice, but he is not blind to the consequences of his patient’s decisions. As the reader shall see, never are the options ideal; rarely is either choice a good one.

When Homer, whose mother’s choice is obvious, is born in “192_”, his educational opportunities are limited. The nearest school in Three Mile Falls, the nearest town, offers classes only through grade six and – because of intermittent and shoddy train service – Homer is only able to attend these classes a few days a week, at best. After the sixth grade, available public education is nonexistent. The world beyond Three Mile Falls, where more alternatives could undoubtedly be found, is denied him. Through a series of fated accidents, Homer is unable to be placed in a family with whom he can successfully establish himself. He invariably returns to Saint Cloud’s. Finally, both he and Dr. Larch, come to the reluctant conclusion that Homer “belongs there.” And once that determination is made, there is only one absolute directive the doctor gives to his perpetual charge, “Well, then, Homer… I expect you to be of use.”

“He was nothing (Homer Wells) if not of use.” Homer has the run of the grounds at St. Cloud’s. He helps out with the various chores. He reads to the other, younger, orphans at night. The books he reads (primarily David Copperfield and Jane Eyre) he reads and reads, again and again; the insights of Dickens and Bronte serve him in lieu of a more classical curriculum. And Homer assists Dr. Larch in the hospital, until the day he examines a partially formed fetus and finally understands that what Dr. Larch calls the “Lord’s work” is the indiscriminate offer of choice to the usually poor, largely uneducated and often abused women who come to St. Cloud’s for assistance.

Homer extracts enough information from his readings, and from the instruction provided by his occasional tutors, to attain a reasonable education. And he is intelligent and skilled enough to master many of the tasks required in the assistance of Dr. Larch. After determining just exactly what services St. Cloud’s provides, Homer comes to a different conclusion than Dr. Larch did; he agrees with the Doctor that a woman should be afforded the right to choose, should she wish to terminate her pregnancy, but he, although he has attained the requisite skills, refuses to participate. He is a “very accomplished midwife” as Dr. Larch points out, a “qualified abortionist”. But he will have nothing to do with providing abortions. For that, Dr. Larch is on his own.

Shortly after Homer reaches this philosophical watershed, St. Cloud’s is visited by a young couple from the lovely Atlantic coast town of Heart’s Haven (or, arguably, they arrive from the less lovely Heart’s Rock, but that’s another part of the story). Wally Worthington and Candace Kendall are young and beautiful and in love. Candy is also pregnant. They make the long drive to the bruised, rocky grounds of St. Cloud’s, arriving with more splendor and panache than most of the clinic’s visitors, but with the same fundamental problem; what will they choose, an orphan or an abortion?

By almost any account, Candy and Wally are the kind of people who should be having babies. But this is not their time, or rather they decide that it isn’t; Candy has her abortion and the couple returns to costal Maine, to Ocean View Orchards, the apple orchard that Wally’s family owns. Along with the unwanted fetus, they leave behind at the orphanage an assortment of the orchard’s bounty; apples and cider and honey and jelly. But they do not leave empty-handed. They take back with them the boy who could not find a home, the boy who is “an accomplished midwife”, but who “won’t perform an abortion, not ever,” they return to the world that, for lack of a better word, most people would consider normal; they escape from St. Cloud’s with Homer Wells.

Thus the stage is set for everything that will follow. Homer falls in love with Candy and she with him. But Wally and Homer love each other too. Wally’s family provides, at long last, the home that Homer has always sought. Soon after Homer arrives at Ocean View, Wally is accepted into the service, where he will become a pilot, flying supply runs high up over the mountains of Burma during World War II. Wally and Homer are firm friends; Homer would never betray him. But Homer and Candy find, after Wally’s plane disappears into the dense Burmese mountain fog, that the demands of their youthful appetites and their own mutual, physical attraction are too much for their well-intentioned loyalties to ignore. They consummate their love, although in a difficult and awkward manner that befits Homer’s destiny. In the usual course of events, they have a child. They visit St. Cloud’s together and the orphanage experiences that rarest of all events in its troubled history; a wanted baby.

All this is the merest summary of what is an incredibly rich and layered story. One of Irving’s personal heroes is Homer’s early mentor, Charles Dickens, and The Cider House Rules is Dickensian in its scope and breadth. There are many deeply formed characters here that are not only worthy of attention but demand it; there is neither the space nor the time to do that in the scope of this limited review.

All of which is a roundabout way of saying that this is a great book. Read it, if only for the excellence of the craft Irving employs to tell his story (which is to say, visit the Louvre, only because it is a museum, or the Cathedral at Notre Dame, simply because it’s a church). But in this time, when strident voices so vociferously attempt to insist on a universal morality, The Cider House Rules also stands out as a voice of reason against those who would imply that there is only one right and one wrong when a young woman is faced with an unwanted pregnancy. Cider House is about much more than the issue of abortion, but it is especially timely, twenty-two years after its original publication, because the issue of abortion is even more of a divisive social issue than it was twenty-two years ago.

Candy aborts Wally’s child; later she bears Homer’s son. Homer loves both Candy and Wally; he sleeps with Candy and has a child with her. Homer and Candy and their son, Angel, return to live at Ocean View. Wally is found, alive though crippled, and he comes back to Maine as well. The true parentage of Angel is an ill-kept secret; despite of all this, Candy and Homer and Wally maintain a complicated love for one another.

But Homer also loves Olive, Wally’s mother, and Ray, Candy’s father, and all the cast of the Ocean View Orchards, where Homer attempts, for many years, to escape his responsibility to St. Cloud’s and to Saint Larch, who loves Homer as the son he never had and who Homer loves equally in return. Despite love, the problems of life intervene. What is Homer doing, there at the Ocean View Orchards, if he is not being of use? What should he be doing? All of this is intriguingly complicated, as life usually is; fortunately, for the characters of The Cider House Rules, though their world is big on problems, is not an environment that is short on love.

Nor is The Cider House Rules short on demanding that the issue of abortion require more than a summary right and wrong approach to its questions. Irving does a masterful job of laying the ground work, in the novel’s early pages, that illustrates the gruesome reality of the world before Roe VS Wade. Back alley abortions are not pretty, they are not ideal, they are not safe. What they are, in lieu of reasonable alternatives, is a fact – they are what will happen. No matter how opposed someone may be, the life of the mother must carry some weight in deciding the fate of an unborn child.

Nathan Lane’s character, in the movie The Bird Cage, perhaps said it to comedic best effect. Attempting to ironically bond with the staunch conservative father of his gay lover’s son, he advocates criminal punishment for those women seeking an abortion, “Oh, I know what you’re going to say. If you kill the mother, the fetus dies too. But the fetus is going to be aborted anyway, so why not let it go down with the ship?” And we laugh because such a statement is so absurd, but is it any more absurd than the spectacle of Eric Rudolph, the Olympic Park Bomber, killing and injuring hundreds of people to make a statement against, the “abominable sanctioning of abortion on demand”? What act is more abominable? What life more sacred?

Abortion is never ideal; what is less ideal is to force those who choose abortions to have the procedure carried out in a manner that endangers both the lives of the mother and her unborn child. In the closing chapters of The Cider House Rules, Homer Wells is confronted with a young woman, the love interest of his now teenaged son, who has become pregnant after being repeatedly raped by her own father. Rose Rose is pregnant and all the circumstances, all humane instincts insist that the termination of this pregnancy is the right choice. Irving leads us purposefully to that acknowledgment. But if this one abortion is right, how can Homer, an “accomplished midwife”, a “qualified abortionist” refuse any woman? “Only a god makes that kind of decision. I’ll just give them what they want, he thought. An orphan or an abortion.” What gives any of us the right to decide, for anyone else, what is the correct choice?

There is no doubt that this review, no matter how impassioned, will do little to alter the views of anyone else; those who now support abortion will continue to do so, those who are opposed will continue to demand that women everywhere be subjected to the kind of butchery and negligence that was once common. But for anyone with any compassion for those unfortunates who find themselves in unfortunate circumstances and seek relief, for anyone who thinks, this is a book to read. Irving demands that we look at the picture that is larger than a knee-jerk, one-size-fits-all morality. Unfortunately, on both sides of this emotional and demanding subject, there is far too much rhetoric and too precious little thought. The Cider House Rules stands out because it is exemplary in its craftsmanship and for its story. But it also that rarest of fine novels in that it conveys the author’s arguments without becoming preachy or strident or forced; it is not a treatise disguised as a novel. It is difficult to imagine that anyone could read Mr. Irving’s work and not be a least a little swayed by his convictions. In undertaking the writing of The Cider House Rules, Mr. Irving has certainly proven himself to have been of use.

I’M READY FOR MY CLOSE UP MR. DEMILLE by Matt Vasiliauskas

I’ve never been one to enjoy the company of complete strangers, that is until I met Alfred. It’s not that I’m against talking to people I’m unfamiliar with, but it’s always just made me a little uneasy. I grew up shy, so naturally it’s going to be somewhat difficult to adjust. I want to get know people, and these short-lived instances in the line at a restaurant or grocery store always seem awkward to me. But it wasn’t until I met Alfred that my idea of casual conversation with a stranger changed.

It was about a week ago that I was in a Borders bookstore doing research for this exact paper. I wanted the content to go a little beyond the average of what one normally sees in these types of assignments, so I thought some historical and possible philosophical in put would lend a helping hand to the project. As I left these various aisles I eventually made my way to the cinema section, and began flipping through the pages of a biography on Billy Wilder, partially the subject of my essay. I proceeded to look over the glossy reproductions of Wilder on set and at home, when I suddenly heard a soft voice coming from behind me. “He’s one of my favorites you know.”

Startled, I quickly turned around and found myself face-to-face with a middle-aged man, balding, and wearing what can best be described as a tweed suit. I am not the best for identifying fabrics, but it seemed like a tweed material to me. He sported a bushy mustache, and almost from the first second I laid eyes on him, I noticed he had a tendency to twitch his nose as if it was a needed, physical reaction along the same lines as blinking. He smirked slightly, and we both remained silent for a few seconds until he continued with his thoughts.

“I’d say he could quite possibly be the greatest American filmmaker of all time,” he said raising his index knuckle to scratch a small portion of his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m a big fan of his work,” I said trying to guage exactly what this man could potentially be after. “In fact, I’m doing a paper on one of his films for my reviewing the arts class.”

“Oh really,” he replied as his voice cracked slightly, and his cheeks turned the slightest pink out of embarrassment. “What film is that?” “Sunset Boulevard,” I said.

Suddenly, his nose stopped twitching and his eyes opened wider and he seemed to almost stop breathing as if his excitement were preventing any sort of normal respiratory function to occur. “Sunset Boulevard is my favorite. I’ve seen it literally a hundred times. Well, I mean, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you know what I’m saying. Isn’t it fantastic? What is this paper about exactly?”

“Well, I have to examine it and relate it on a social level. I think the movie’s great, but there’s so much in terms of cultural and social commentary that make it more timely than ever.” I thought it was strange that I was revealing this much to a total stranger, again because of my past idea of these kinds of encounters. But maybe it was finding a kindred, cinematic spirit that prompted me to go on. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and my thesis, or what I’m trying to examine is the public’s unpredictable attraction to celebrity, an individual’s willingness to trade in moral and professional responsibilities for wealth, and the role of the media in influencing public perception on celebrity life.”

“Whoa there,” he said with several quick twists of his nose causing the wrinkles in his forehead to become more prominent than ever. “You got some interesting stuff there, and I’m surprised you took all that out of this movie. What was the first thing you mentioned? The public’s attraction to celebrity or something like that? Unpredictable attraction right?”

“Well, the idea of the public’s view on celebrity is key to the film, The story
follows Joe Gillis(William Holden), an unsuccessful screenwriter who escapes the finance men who are trying to reclaim his car by driving into the garage of an old mansion on Sunset Boulevard. There, he meets silent film star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) who, wishing to make a comeback, hires Gillis to rewrite a script she’s been working on. Soon, she falls in love with him and has him move into the mansion with her. Secretly, Joe begins collaborating with a pretty young screenplay editor, Betty Schaefer. The two fall for one another, and when Norma discovers this is driven to insanity, shooting Joe three times and being led off by the police in the end.”

“Okay, I am familiar with the plot. Now get back to your point. Unpredictable celebrity,” he said, again using his knuckle to scratch his cheek.

“In the film, Norma constantly talks about how great she is and without her there would be no Hollywood. When Gillis first meets her he says, “You’re Norma Desmond, you used to be big.” With which she replies, “I am big, it’s the pictures that got small.”

Here we have a woman still very much confident in her role as an icon and a talent, despite the fact that the general public has tossed her aside for a newer, more exciting generation of performer. Norma’s early silent film career helped lay the basis for the motion picture industry, and even though this was a major cultural and industrial progression, these aspects mean little to a commercial audience. Norma’s inability to adapt to sound movies, and her increase in age have made her unattractive to the vast public forcing her to live out her remaining days in the isolation of a massive mansion.

“And you feel this is somehow the audience’s fault,” he said.

“I’m not saying it is entirely the audience’s fault, but I do feel the audience is able to provide significant in put when it comes to the importance of a celebrity. Box office revenue, merchandising sales along with magazine and television specials all contribute to building up or breaking down a celebrity. In our culture, an audience is not afraid to reduce a star to nothing, and often times enjoy seeing a celebrity fail than succeed. When these economic factors are not in place, then the actor or actress in question has little choice to either retreat into obscurity or take on roles that provide little artistic or professional growth. This is something that has always occurred within the motion picture industry, from the time of Norma Desmond to the present.”

The man smirked slightly and licked his lips in a fashion that I still cannot quite describe, but it was as if the tip of his tongue was an extension of his brain, in which the tiny taste buds projected his contemplative thought process. “I’m not quite sure,” he replied. “To me, and keep in mind I’m no expert, but it seems like the celebrity is just as responsible in either the progression or regression of one’s career. You know what I mean? Let’s go back to Norma Desmond. For lack of a better term, she’s a Diva right? I mean when she visits Demille on set she’s demanding things, she basically acts like she owns the place, even though she hasn’t had work in something like 15 years. It’s like you said before, Norma constantly says how great she is. She lives in a big mansion, which she fills with the most luxurious items money can buy. She chooses a self-imposed isolation from her public, not wanting to mix with the common folk beyond the grounds of her guarded kingdom. And it’s a lot like celebrities today. Individuals who isolate themselves, or are too demanding when working on set, or set a bad example in public, lose the interest of not only audience members but producers and other significant heads of the film industry. Culturally we do build these people up, and perhaps fault should be directed more towards society and the industry. But I do not think the individual can totally escape from blame.”

I liked his point, and it was something I had not entirely considered before. I think he realized his impact, and his smirk grew bigger. “Well why don’t we keep going then, “ he said in an almost high pitched inflection. “Let’s move onto your second thing. An individual sacrificing moral responsibility right?”

“Exactly. And not just moral responsibility, but responsibility in general for the often-temporary acquisition of wealth. In the film, Joe Gillis is taken in by Norma Desmond initially to help her with her screenplay. Soon though, Ms. Desmond falls in love with Gillis convincing him to stay and providing him all the luxuries that a fallen movie icon can. From her he acquires suits, coats, jewelry and a solid gold cigarette case. Gillis certainly does not love Norma or her screenplay, but sticks around strictly for the financial comfort. Never mind his own professional aspirations. Those seem to vanish out the door, and soon Joe is playing the part of the kept man, taking a permanent vacation from the responsibilities of his career and personal life. This is a fact not just surrounding the entertainment industry, but just society in general. So often, certain men and women will sacrifice their own aspirations for the convenience of secure wealth. Am I saying this is a bad thing, not necessarily. But I do think in certain regards it reinforces social stereotypes, and halts the professional progression of individuals.”

There was the nose twitch again. He was thinking about something, and was about to let me in on it. “Again, man, I think you’re looking at this from a one sided point of view. Yes, Joe Gillis is staying with Norma Desmond strictly for financial reasons. I think that’s pretty obvious right? But who wouldn’t in that situation, and I think a lot of it has to do with what you were saying earlier about the unpredictable nature of the industry. Gillis is a struggling screenwriter, who almost has no choice but to be taken in by Desmond. I mean she practically saves the guy. And this is speaking to more than just the world of entertainment, but circumstances that are popping up all over. You have people from lower incomes, or who do not possess desirable education degrees and it is difficult for them to pursue certain goals with out financial assistance. Is there ways of obtaining it?”
“Yes, but I’m saying that I can relate to Gillis in wanting the security of wealth, and the idea of not having to worry from day to day of what he is going to eat or where he is going to sleep.”

Strangely, this time the man did not smirk, and cast his eyes downward remaining transfixed on the grey carpet below. I did not say a word and focused on several books positioned near his shoulder. These situations have always made me feel a bit awkward, and actually selfish in not knowing how to comfort someone in these moments. Eventually, he looked back up at me and continued.

“So the third thing. The media. You feel it has a significant influence on the public’s perception of the celebrity. Is that correct?”

“Well I think the media has always been responsible for influencing public perception on aspects of celebrity, in particular those centered around the negative. This is featured quite prominently in Sunset Boulevard. Norma Desmond has been absent from the motion picture spotlight for more than 15 years, and not once during that time has anyone showed the slightest bit of interest in her opinions or personal life. It is only after she has committed a serious crime that the news media shows up at her residence in full force. Everyone from local reporters to top film critics show up to report on how the once great actress now will be on trial for murder. It is the media’s fascination with star downfall that has thus created a greater interest among the public in the misfortunes of these individuals. Today, tabloids, internet blog sites and even entire television networks are dedicated to celebrity gossip, and rarely are these individuals featured unless scandal is present. It is a process and mindset which I think is affecting our culture in a significant negative sense.”

“Man, you’re forgetting about the celebrity’s choice again,” he said quickly.

“Norma Desmond wants the cameras. She wants to make her return. And although she doesn’t say it, and perhaps there is no direct indication, it’s very likely that she would resort to killing a man just for the opportunity to stand once again in front of a camera. As sick as that may sound. I mean, Lindsay Lohan was quoted as saying I’d rather be featured in newspapers in a bad way, than not be in them at all. I think it’s the celebrity’s obsession of fame that contributes to this idea as well. They want the media to follow them, even as much as they say they don’t. Many of these people feed off of that attention, and that in turn creates of course a sort of fantasy world that ultimately leads these celebrities to act in illegal ways strictly to gain some kind of recognition or notice. Perhaps again this has to do with the nature of the industry and culture, but I’m a big proponent in an individual accepting the consequences of decisions made.”

For the first time, he smiled completely, and I smiled completely as well. And we nodded our heads and seemed to chuckle a bit at the situation. “I’m Alfred by the way,” he said and extended his hand. I shook it, saying my name and then releasing.

“Well Matt, it was good meeting you, and I’m sure you got things to do. It’s just, I don’t know. Good talking to you man is what I’m saying.”

“Good talking to you as well I said.”

He turned away, and made his way down a nearby staircase and exited out of the building. I knew I would never see him again. Because in situations like that, you enjoy the moment, and realize there is no need for another.

The Laramie Project by Diana Nuzzo

I had wanted to see the film The Laramie Project for quite some time. I had it on my Netflix® queue for almost a year now. Recently when I was presented with the task of reviewing a piece of art that dealt with an “issue” I decided to finally move the film up to the number one spot on my queue. When I sat down to view the film I was anticipating that I would become sad. I was familiar with the case of what happened to Matthew Sheppard in the town of Laramie, Wyoming. I knew all too well of how Matthew had gone into a bar one night simply wanting to have a drink and not be at home. What he unfortunately found that night was hatred manifested in the form of two men close to his age that allowed rage and ignorance to take over them. What I did not expect from the film is the clever and unique way that it presented those events that I had heard so much about. The filmmakers chose to make a film that presented itself as a documentary but instead featured actors and not the actual towns people. The script however was actually testimony that the filmmakers had gotten from the townspeople.

One of the reasons that I wanted to review this film is that I remember when the incident originally occurred. I was working at a hotel and I had a friend named Ken who also worked there along with his partner Mike. When this happened I was scared. I thought to myself what if this spreads and something happens to Ken or Mike or both.

I became very scared for my friends’ safety. People fear what they don’t’ understand and often times that fear manifests into violence. It was that violence through ignorance that I was so terrified could happen to my friends. This began to weigh on my mind again recently because at my latest job I have another friend who is very openly gay. He goes downtown a lot to bars and again I found myself fearing for his safety. One day I even hugged him so tight and was nears tears. He asked what on earth was wrong with me and I told him that I would be devastated if anything ever happened to him. He smiled at me and assured me that he would be fine. In the back of my head though I wondered could history repeat itself. Could some monster of a “human being” let his insecurities and intolerance get the best of him and target my friend? He no longer works with me and when I don’t hear from him for long periods of time I still at times find myself worrying if he is okay.

The director of the film is Moisés Kaufman who runs the Tectonic Theatre troupe of actors. His idea was to create a play based on the testimonies of the people of Laramie and then to perform the play in the town. He wanted to showcase the town of Laramie and not focus on Matthew. There was not one single image of Matthew in the entire film. Not of an actor playing Matthew or the real Matthew himself. What this unique approach causes us as the audience to focus on is not Matthew, whose story we know, but rather on the people of Laramie and the aftermath of what happened in the town.

People’s opinions are shown, their feelings on what happened and the parties involved and in some cases what life has become like for the people who were directly involved in what happened on that fateful night that Matthew was abducted and left for dead on the side of the road tied to a fence. Among the stories that were the most powerful was that of Reggie Fluty, the officer that first arrived on the scene and cut Matthew free of the fence. Her words alone on seeing another human being in that state were enough to move me, but what grabbed at my heart was her story of what happened after the rescue. Officer Fluty had on protective gloves but they kept ripping on her and though Matthew was covered in dried blood she chose to still attend to him and cut him free and keep him breathing. She did not stop to think about the cuts on her hands and that the blood from Matthew was getting in those cuts. She also did not know that Matthew was a homosexual let alone the fact that he was HIV positive.

Officer Fluty has two small children and was suddenly faced with the fact that she too could now be HIV positive. Her mother told of her ordeal of having to take a cocktail of drugs that when taken within 36 hours of exposure could possibly prevent her from contracting the disease. Skillfully done by the filmmakers they did not reveal whether or not she had avoided this tragedy until the very end of the film. As an audience we are left to wonder if this hero will die after deciding above all else to help another human being regardless of the consequences.

Another story we are presented with is of Aaron Kreifels, the boy who first found Matthew. He describes seeing him on the fence and at first telling himself it is just a scarecrow. He convinces himself as he gets closer that even though the chest is moving that it is still just a fake. When he realized that he was faced with another human life he ran for help. In the aftermath he is left wondering why he was chosen to find Matthew that day. The actor who portrays Aaron shows on his face the torment that is going on in the boy’s mind. He believes that God sent him to Matthew’s side that day because he was traveling somewhere that he never usually did. However he is haunted by what he saw and wonders why him.

The gay community of Laramie becomes another character in the film. We are presented with several different people and their stories. They had hoped when this happened to Matthew that maybe that meant that there would finally be a voice in the world saying that this intolerance had to stop. Instead what they found is that they became more fearful than ever for their own safety. They were able to find strength through the ordeal and found solace in the fact that the nation was standing up to take notice of the horrible injustice that transpired. However by the end of the film we are alerted to the fact that unfortunately not much had changed. There still had been no legislature passed to categorize more strongly hate crimes and laws that would protect the gay community from such crimes.

As a film student one of the first things that caught my eye was the use of parallel editing in the first sequences of shots. On one side of the screen you have the characters representing the troupe members talking about their experiences with the project and how it came about. On the other side of the screen are simultaneous shots of Laramie. The shots that were used were so ironic of a choice. On the one hand you have people talking about entering a town where a truly heinous crime occurred and on the opposite of the screen are pictures of what seems to be a normal and peaceful town. The director’s choice of these serene looking scenes I feel was such a great choice because it really sends a message home that this violence can occur in any town across the land.

I also really liked the approach that was used towards this film. It had the feel of a documentary but the use of actors forces us as the viewer to focus on the material and not on the individuals themselves. It would have been just as powerful of a message if the real people were used but with the use of actors it was easy to truly focus on what the director was trying to convey on the screen. He could have simply had the interviews show on the screen before me but instead he took the testimonies and interwoven them into a story and made the town itself a character as the story unfolded. This approach made this tragedy even more horrific because not only was Matthew Sheppard’s life taken away and his family forever devastated, but also the town of Laramie was forever changed and not for the better. The people involved with the case lost a friend, piece of mind and the security of thinking that violence could never happen in their peaceful town. Suddenly they were under media scrutiny and placed under a microscope for the entire world to see.

A review of On This Site: Landscape in Memoriam by Annie Hobbs

The United States of America is supposedly the home of the brave and the land of the free, but Joel Sternfeld shows America’s big imperfections in a subtle and serene way in his project On This Site: Landscape in Memoriam

shown in the “Loaded Landscapes” exhibit in Columbia College’s Museum of Contemporary Photography. All of his landscapes in this show are of places within the United States where tragic and gut-wrenching events have taken place, such as the site where bombs were made for the first bomb scare at the World Trade Center in the early 1990’s, or the corner in L.A. where Rodney King was beaten by police because of his race in 1993. These are hugely emotional and raw pictures that heavily rely on the context and the captions next to them to convey their whole meaning.

The first time I saw these photographs, I really didn’t think much of them because I hadn’t taken the time to read the captions. They were nicely done, I thought, and had good color and composition, formal concepts I would expect in a museum, but beyond that and the fact that they were in fact landscapes, I didn’t really see what the big deal was. They weren’t that interesting to me. Then, I went back and read the captions as I looked at the images. I was completely blown away. These innocent and boring photos were pictures of monumental places in U.S. history. He is very effective in getting his point across that the world is a place with horrible things that have happened in its past in unassuming places. I bet most people who went to see the exhibit walked through his photographs and thought the same thing I did when I first saw them, which is why it is so effective. They really don’t mean much without words or prior knowledge. This is tricky art, but well-planned and studious art. It’s not for the simple-minded, ignorant art non-appreciator. He is using psychology to get you to understand and realize how important these events were and how silly they really are in the big picture. He is also showing America’s corrupt, evil side and how we mask everything bad we do.

One piece in particular stands out always in my mind when I think of “Loaded Landscapes” as a whole. It’s one of Sternfeld’s images. 578 101st St. Love Canal Neighborhood, Niagara Falls, New York was, in my opinion, one of the strongest images in the exhibit. This is a picture of a green ranch-style house in New York State. There is green grass and it’s an overcast, yellowish day outside. The house is centered, and almost looks like a real estate ad, for a crappy neighborhood. The viewer gets an impending sense of eeriness and doom. You look to the right of you and read the caption. The title is the address of the house, and this house is on top of land that you wouldn’t want to live on. This house is in a neighborhood that had over two-hundred toxic chemicals dumped into the rivers and ground that surround it, which led to residents getting cancer all over the place, and babies born mutated. How’s that for the good old American dream? Wouldn’t you like to live here? We’ll charge less money? We can make radioactive children and sell them? Sternfeld emphasizes the sickly feelings with the color green. Green can symbolize illness and science, which perfectly fits the theme of this photograph, illnesses created by science.

Another image that screams irony, which in fact screams my name along with it, is Hanford Reservation, Hanford, Washington (It’s the Nature of Our Business). This is an area of beautiful land that has become overrun with nuclear plants, tanks, and reactors. The government thinks it’s a good idea to take unused, preserved natural beauty and turn it into monstrous, disgusting, harmful trash. It’s okay because “it’s the nature of their business” and they claim to do environmental work. However, I don’t care what they do to save the environment, they are destroying it and the lives of others with nuclear waste pumped into the soil. Sternfeld sees this and thinks it’s hilarious that they try to be good guys about everything, so he took this beautiful image on a nice day of the vast landscape with a sign that says, “Hanford Reservation: It’s the Nature of Our Business.” There is no nature involved here except for the vast lands that they are raping and pillaging in their quest for global dominance. It’s sick. Humans are gross, and Sternfeld points this out politely and unsettlingly because we Americans are letting it happen all around us.

Throughout this entire exhibit, Joel Sternfeld shows us that humanity has never failed to let each other down through the years, but nature and life go on all around us and the tragic places where these incidents have happened, just like nothing has happened. These are places we can’t forget because of the awful events that have happened there, but yet, they are so changed and different from that actual times that the events did take place. He is showing us how we tie feelings and emotions to different places and how it can become confusing when these are ordinary places with things happening in them all the time. There is an absence of people and memorials for the tragedies because these places have moved on, and the landscapes and context tie in human presence within the areas. The lack of humans makes the catastrophes even more inhumane and surreal. Who could do those things to other people?

He illustrates the power of money and advancement in society over compassion for fellow human beings in this particular series of photographs and has really changed my mind about the power of a photograph. Political art has never been so underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time and that is what grabs us. The subtleties state everything. The show worked for me because I walked out of it outraged at society and questioning everything I have learned in my life about humanity even more than I already had.