The Politics of Art & Authenticity

Credit to: http://www.lasvegastourism.com/shows/phantom.jpg

Singing, dancing, props, NO SUBTITLES!!! I have been wanting to see the Phantom of the Opera for years now and I have finally seen it. It surpassed all of my expectations and more. From the beginning I was astounded by the prop work as the chandelier went up from the stage to the ceiling above the theater. The singing and acting was great, especially since it was in English and I could understand everything going on. There were lots of different stage works going on from scene to scene, a change in the curtains or balcony seats of a theater moving on to stage, even a boat that moved across the stage through a foggy underground cave. The actor who played the Phantom wasn’t even the main actor who regularly plays him but his voice and acting was amazing. All of the singing and acting was perfect in every way. My mother loved the show so much she brought the CD of all of the main songs. I’m happy that I was able to watch the show and enjoy it in all of its glory.

As a child my mom always told me, “If you want to learn how to play an instrument, learn to play the drums.”  Every time I inquired why the reason was always the same.  “There are barely any female drummers.”  She was right.  There are hardly any female drummers, and why?  Women can definitely pull this off.  If they try they can even be better than Lars Ulrich from Metallica!

One main example of this would be Cindy Blackman Santana.  Despite the fact that I had never heard of her and never heard her play I was sure she would give an outstanding performance.  This was probably due to the reactions of the people sitting around me.  Before she even stepped on stage a woman in the row before mine, probably in her 50’s if I had to guess, leaned over to her friend and like a little girl squealed “I’m so excited!!”  Then the moment she stepped on stage the four people in front of me were all shaking their heads no in disbelief.  During the first applause the one man was snapping his fingers, he was probably a long time fan.  Then when the music finally began almost simultaneously they all began nodding their heads in utter approval of what they were hearing.

It made sense because Mrs. Santana was just that brilliant when she played.  Unlike the other two in her trio she didn’t have notes to read off of, she was going by what she knew, what she practiced long and hard to be able to play.  The expressions on her face showed how truly into it she was.

The only aspect of this performance I didn’t like was how the drums drowned out the sounds of the two other instruments.  At times it almost seemed like a one-person performance.  What was interesting about this, however, was the fact that the two other artists were given solos.

What I found amazing was how fast she was able to play.  At times I couldn’t even see the drumsticks anymore, or maybe this was because I just have bad eyes.  But it felt like she was playing so fast they seemed to disappear and even leave after images.  Also, what I’ve always found impressive was just the ability to play the drums because that includes moving all four limbs to different beats.  At times the right and left hand would be hitting two different drums at two different rhythms and speeds, while the right foot would keep a constant beat using the petal and the left foot would keep a different, yet still constant, beat on a separate pedal for symbols.  She made this look simple.

I hope Cindy Blackman Santana is able to inspire more women to become drummers.  Without a doubt they can play just as hard and amazing as male drummers do.

Source

http://www.jazzmusicarchives.com/images/artists/cindy-blackman.jpg

I’ve pretty much grown up to the sound of drums. My older brother was a drummer throughout his teenage years (he conveniently got the room in the basement), so I was excited to see an entire drum performance. Now I know what drumming is supposed to sound like (no offense, Pin). My brother was actually pretty good, but Cindy Blackman is in a class of her own.

Watching her performwas like watching Picasso paint or Motzart play piano. She was completely in her element and obviously enjoying every minute of it. Though the two guys in the trio were good too, it was definitely Cindy Blackman who stole the show (which is the point, I think, seeing as it’s called the Cindy Blackman Santana trio). I always thought that the drums were primarily meant to accompany the other instruments, but it’s now obvious that they can be extremely powerful and beautiful on their own. What’s unique about the drums is that they can’t play notes like other musical instruments. It’s up to the drummer to understand exactly how and where and when to hit each part of the drum set. Drumming is a subtle yet integral part of a musical performance. It adds so much rhythm and expression that, while difficult to single out, vastly enhances a musical performance. But when it is singled out, as it was last night, its complexity and power is astounding. The art of drumming is really, truly incredible, and so is Cindy Blackman Sanata.

Cindy Blackman performs with everything she has. The audience can see her grit, patience, practice, planning, creativity, and passion. Her coordination and timing were unlike anything I have ever seen. Though I can’t say I am familiar with jazz, I never really knew of a jazz drummer being so emphatic and violent on his or her instrument.

Blackman wasn’t the only highlight of the concert though. Who can forget the pianist? I found the electric piano dull and really only something that can be utilized in the background. But when he stepped over to the Steinway piano–wow. I was never got really good with the piano when I took lessons. I had the hardest time learning even the simplest, most structured pieces. This guy, meanwhile, was all over the place. I mean that in a good way. His scale fill-ins and comping seemed random and unplanned. Yet, it was all perfect and precise.

courtesy of drummerworld.com

     Still, Blackman stole the show. The way she beat those drums and then tapped them gently was phenomenal. She played often times with her eyes closed, only opening them to smile at her other co-performers. The energy she exhibited was exceptional and her entire performance showed just how much love, effort, and enthusiasm she puts into her instrument.

The real question is: What was she doing at Baruch? And the follow-up would have to be: When will she come back?

http://www.cindyblackmansantana.com/images/topphoto_tour.jpg

Mesmerizing. That is the best word I can use to describe whatI saw last night. I loved their performance and I was in complete awe of all of the musician’s skills but Cindy Blackman blew me away. I could not keep my eyes off of her hands! She moved so quickly and swiftly that at some points I could not even see her hands. The most amazing part is that she made it look so easy. I was completely enamored by her skill and overall awesome ability at rocking out.

Although I did find it strange that there was no singer. I felt as there was a gap that needed to be filled. However it did allow me to focus more on the instrumental performances. It made me focus on every movement and every sound that was made by the performers. It was as though I was watching each musician give an isolated performance instead of it being a band that played in harmony. Surprisingly enough I did not find that to be a bad thing as it enabled me to fully appreciate their individual talent and skill.

On Sunday December 2^nd, I attended the Columbia University Big Apple Dancesport Challenge. My best friend is on the Stony Brook University Ballroom Dance Team and she invited me to see her perform, so I took her up on the offer. I made my way cross-town around 2 PM thinking I’d see her perform and possibly stay for a little longer to see some of the professionals dance it out. 2 or 3 hours very quickly turned into 7. Now, usually this is where I start complaining about things. BUT, I actually found this fascinating. I was a little nervous to experience dance after the Barnard Fall Project but it didn’t take long to figure out that this was something completely different. My friend’s mom and I cheered my friend on as she Cha-Cha-ed and Rumba-ed across the dance floor. She went on to compete in the finals for her division and won a ribbon! She explained to me the different levels of competition: The Pre-Bronze, Bronze, Silver, Gold, and the professionals. The higher up in rank the couple was, the more elaborate the costumes became. This applies more for the women than the men. The men essentially wore all black outfits (except the professionals, their costumes got pretty crazy). The women’s costumes however were a completely different story. They ranged in color, design, and rhinestone usage. The higher up they moved, the more sparkly their dresses became. Aside from the breath taking talent they possess, it was very literally hard to look away from the costumes. Don’t get me wrong, my friend is an amazing dancer but seeing the professionals dance almost seemed like a completely different experience. The gracefulness, precision, and seemingly natural moves made me wonder how such a think was possible. 7 hours seems like much, but I was amazed by what I was seeing. The songs were repeated but every single dance was different, even within the same category. Every couple had a different rendition of the dance and I think that’s why I was so interested. There was always something different and more amazing to watch. This was the first time I had ever watched ballroom dancing and I’m glad I went out to Columbia to support my friend. Ballroom dancing is a beautiful art form to say the least. I’m glad I loved it as much as I did, especially after all that modern dance shenanigans we watched…

I’m not really sure why I didn’t write about this immediately after I went but better late than never? Sometime in early October, I went the American Museum of Natural History. I must disclose however, I cheated a little bit. My anthropology class required us to visit the Human Origins exhibit as a part of a larger, semester long project. The assignment consisted of visiting the exhibit and creating a test that conveyed to our professor that we visited and learned something. My initial reaction was to groan and complain because well… I’m good at that. The somewhat, almost cultured member of society inside me was a little excited as soon as I walked inside of the museum. There’s something mystical about the immense amount of information that lurks around every corner of the place. Even though I was assigned to go to one exhibit, and I didn’t have too much time, some part of me wanted to explore and get lost in as many other exhibits as possible. Another disclaimer: I am a history junkie so I actually didn’t mind the exhibit of Human Origins in the least. In the midst of searching for little bits of information that, in my opinion, would make good test questions, I found myself engaged and enveloped in the things I was reading. It was incredible to learn that archaeologists could determine the time period that our ancestors lived in simply by studying the kinds of plants and bacteria that existed then. There was a whole wall dedicated to displaying the percentages of genetic similarity that we share with various apes. There were dozens of life-size replicas of what our ancestors looked like as they evolved throughout human history. Not only was I getting an assignment done, but I was also learning about something that I find fascinating. Even after I was done making up impossible test questions, I found myself reading, observing, and analyzing all the different exhibits. It’s safe to say that I enjoyed my visit to the American Museum of Natural History. Hopefully over Christmas Break when I’m no longer drowning in schoolwork, I’ll be able to go back on my own time and explore some more exhibits.

You know when a great time to go to the Museum of Natural History is? Swing by at 4:45pm on a weekday. This is a magical time at the museum. Most people have gone. And by most people I mean the security guards. At 4:45pm the museum is empty and free. I walked around that place like I owned it, and it was serene.

Some might say that a map of such an extensive museum would be helpful. Not for me. Perhaps the coolest thing I have ever done was roam the empty halls of that place without a map. I was totally immersed in everything I was seeing, unlike any other time I had visited the museum. There were no children being load and obnoxious. There was no idiot tourist walking directly in-front of me to take a picture of the stuffed turkey behind the glass with his flash on, only to continue to stand in-front of me while trying to figure out how to turn his flash off (rather unsuccessfully). There was none of that.

I scooted through the Hall of Asian Mammals and North American birds. I wandered through the foreign chimes of the Asian Peoples exhibit. I wound up cutting back again through the Hall of Asian Mammals. I wound up one floor above the Hall of Asian Mammals. I wound up back again on the other side of the Hall of Asian Mammals, and then somehow I stumbled upon the dinosaur exhibit.

I love the dinosaur exhibit, almost as much as Brian does. Did I mention there were no kids there? Have you ever been to that exhibit in the absence of children. It is truly fantastic.

Never have I ever experienced such peace, excitement, and confusion as I did wandering the halls of the Museum of Natural history at 4:45 pm on a weeknight… Holy crap, did I break into The Museum of Natural History?

courtesy of http://ucrpaleo.wordpress.com

courtesy of http://www.themorgan.org/img/eastroom.jpg

I have always had an adverse reaction to the words “library” and “museum.” This isn’t to say I don’t enjoy learning or reading, but that my experiences at both these places have usually been horrendous. The reason is because I would always go to these places with my parents. They aren’t bad people; they just would go through things painfully slow. At a museum, my sister and I would always be sitting on the bench at the end of the exhibit waiting for them to finish reading every damn line printed. And at a library? With thousands of lines of things to read? Forget it. To think that one day I would go to a museum of books would have been outlandish. Well, that’s exactly what I did.

Honestly, The Morgan Museum and Library was fantastic. It contained the literary collections of J.P Morgan’s father, Piermont Morgan. The man’s collection was fantastic. He had original copies of The Night Before Christmas and handwriting samples from Charles Dickens. His library was expansive, it was two stories high filled with old bindings mixed in with some very ornate first editions. His study had a vault filled with– you guessed it– books.

Out of all the things I have owned, books have always been the hardest for me to throw away. Even with my avoidance of libraries, I have always loved books. I’ll pick up an old copy of “Nate The Great” and remember reading about the boy detective who solved crimes after eating a plate of pancakes, and how funny I thought that was when I was younger. Books are great. And Piermont Morgan clearly couldn’t throw out a book either.

http://theater.nytimes.com/2012/10/26/theater/reviews/builders-associations-house-divided-at-bam.html 

I live in Brooklyn, so maybe it had to be a given that I would make it to the only event in Brooklyn on time. Meh…. It didn’t happen. The show was on a Thursday at seven thirty. It was the night before flying out to Denver, and also one of the days that I get out of class at 5:30pm. I had so many things to do. Pack; buy some more stuff, and the promised weekly dinner with my boyfriend. I felt like superwoman and thought that I could manage it. It didn’t work out.

I rushed out of class, flew down the stairs, and out the door. I think I made it to the train in less than seven minutes… pretty impressive, if I may say so. I headed uptown. My boyfriend was waiting with dinner. Yum… Brazilian food once again, but hey, at least the flan was delicious. Dinner was over in less than 20 minutes. Ah 6:15pm.  We paid the check and headed to Aeropostale. There I bought the much-needed jacket for the cold, disgusting, dry cold that is typical of Colorado, and then I asked my boyfriend if he would take the train with me to DeKalb Avenue. He agreed and on the subway we went.

The ride there was pretty uneventful.

7:15pm

There was still time.  We ran out of the station. My phone was dead… I told him to look up were I was going. Late, as always but I made it.

Now, on to the actual show. I may have been that I was tired.  Or maybe it was just that it was boring.  Yes, it was innovative. I think on the edge of being extreme. It certainly looked like they were trying to hard.  The presentation itself was impeccable. As far as technology and the use of it—there are no words to describe how good it was.  Yet the acting in the play was mediocre. It just didn’t seem like stock traders actually worked that way.  It was too staged. I didn’t seem authentic. Albeit, The Grapes of Wrath certainly added a certain level of parallelism, which made it easier to understand the concept of, how history repeats itself when we don’t change.