Category — Authors

Dance is difficult to interpret and is subjective to each viewer. However, it can be interpreted in so many ways and by so many different people that it becomes a visual sensation to watch. At the Brooklyn Academy of Music, Brooklyn’s all-female Urban Bush Woman and Senegal’s all-male Compagnie Jant-Bi performed a thrilling show titled Les écailles de la Mémoire, in other words, The Scales of Memory.
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“There is no present or future – only the past happening over and over again.” Within this quote, Freedman explores and recounts his deceased mother’s life in his novel “Who She Was.” In an attempt to understand and discover who his mother really was, Freedman successfully goes through time and space to gather the pieces of the puzzle. After her death due to breast cancer, Freedman revisits her grave 30 years later and is filled with shame and remorse. He regrets not being a more attentive son and wishes he was better to her when she was sick. With unresolved penance and guilt in mind, Freedman goes on a compelling journey to piece her mother’s life and at the same time fill the void from the absence of his mother. [Read more →]

I had never been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art before and when I heard there was an Italian-based exhibit, I couldn’t wait to get there.  I didn’t see this journey to the MET as a mandatory assignment for a grade; I saw it as a way to learn about the art of my own culture.  As soon as I entered the exhibit I felt right at home.  I was surrounded by countless paintings of Bible scenes and Italian settings that reminded me of my early childhood.  As a child, my family and I would journey to Church every Sunday and learn about such scenes as the priest delivered his sermon.  All throughout my time at the Art and Love in Renaissance Italy Exhibit, memories and emotions surged through my body as I walked past each gigantic oil painting.
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On April 23^rd, 1958, my father, Joseph Andrew Musgrove, was born in Washington, D.C., and then lived in Oxon Hill, Maryland, a short walk away from Southeast D.C.  He was one of five boys born to Tom Hardwick Musgrove and Dorothy Hall Musgrove, as part of the Baby Boomer generation. Each of the brothers is two years apart in age and he is the second youngest. His father was in the Navy and he met my grandmother in Virginia at Colonial Beach by the Dahlgren Naval Station. My grandmother grew up in Washington D.C. but my grandfather came out of poverty in Newton, Georgia. That region is so poor that the Great Depression changed nothing for his family because they could not get any more impoverished. The first house my father lived in was a two bedroom, one bathroom triplex, undersized for seven people and a dog, so it’s understandable why he says, “I don’t think it ever crossed my parents mind to move because the neighborhood was going to change. I think it was just time. … We definitely needed more space.” [Read more →]

The life Jeanette Striano led was one that was always interesting, never boring, and more often than not crazy. Her days of rebellion occurred during the 1940’s. My mother Arlene Iezzi is Jeanette’s daughter and she is the keeper of the legends about my grandmother’s colorful past. To hear my mother tell the stories is to actually be there. The world that my grandmother lived in during her youth was one that was in a constant state of flux. There was a real disparity between the traditions of the old and the styles of the new. My grandmother, while proud of her heritage, openly embraced the chaos that was 1940’s Brooklyn. Her mother Angelina, however, had other ideas about what constituted a young lady and that led to some of the most infamous stories regarding my grandmother. [Read more →]

The exhibit Art and Love in Renaissance Italy made me feel as though I was walking into an art gallery in Florence itself. Recently the MET has been showing this exhibit which gives the viewer insight into the old customs and traditions in Italy a few hundred years ago. I found it to be quite enlightening as it taught me things about my ancient heritage that I did not know. I have found a new appreciation for renaissance art as well as for the people of this time period.     [Read more →]

Glass Ingots from Uluburun Shipwreck

Falcon Pendant

Standing outside of the Met for the first time, I wondered what lay ahead.  Despite the construction near the steps, the museum still appeared majestic.  The large scale of the pale sandy colored building reminded me of many of the museums I have been to in Washington, D.C., of which if I had never visited before, the Met may have appeared like a castle to me.  Of course, the inside of the museum was even more beautiful.  The high ceilings and the Greek columns gave the museum an open and airy feeling, and the lighting, which overall was bright but not harsh imbued the impression of a place not to be missed.  My friends and I even noted the elegance of the staircases, which were simple and sleek, and I haven’t even gotten started on the Met’s art. [Read more →]

The Brooklyn Academy of Music’s new production Les Ecailles de la Memoire, or “The Scales of Memory,” elucidates the complicated issues of memory, love, culture among the people of the African Diaspora. It is an intercontinental production involving the Compagnie Jant-Bi from Senegal and Brooklyn’s Urban Bush Women. The mixture of dance style, language, and shared history give Les Ecailles de la Memoire its flavor; however, the desperation to develop a narrative and characters takes away from the magnificent performance. [Read more →]

The Metropolitan Museum of Art is one of the most beautiful structures in New York City. Every time I go there I am amazed at the amount of ancient works of art and objects this museum holds. Besides the permanent exhibits, the museum often houses special exhibits for a brief period of time. On Friday I went to see the traveling exhibit called, “Art and Love in Renaissance Italy”.

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When we first received news that my fellow classmates and I would be going to BAM, the Brooklyn Academy of Music, I was looking forward to a thrilling performance.  Much to my dismay I was mistaken.  I was one of the first to arrive at BAM and I noticed some of the trailers for the performance we were about to witness.  My excitement and anticipation quickly changed to dread and loathing.  Several flat screen televisions were playing a few short clips that made my stomach churn.  As much as I didn’t want to, I decided to give the Urban Bush Women a chance to impress me before I made hasty conclusions.  I entered the theater with an open mind, hoping I would be wrong about the performance. [Read more →]