Anything Could Happen for the Six Characters

Six Characters in Search of an Author really has to be viewed with an open, imaginative mind.

The impression I got from the play with this sense of confusion and tragedy, atop this desire to change the dynamics of stage production.The idea of six characters who present themselves independently yet still wish to be claimed by an author is really ironic and really creative. In the confusion between reality and fantasy, I felt like the characters themselves even had trouble agreeing on what really occurred or at least the reasons for why they occurred. It doesn’t seem like they’re in search for one author in particular; almost as if anyone will do. From that I got the feeling that there was a message that these characters simply just wanted to be seen and perform as they were, with no pretenses. The author in this play sort of represented all authors collectively. When the characters approach this director in the play, they insist on telling the story as it is while the director wants to change it and make it more light-hearted. I also felt like the “nude reveal” scene was sort of another way of just being direct and upfront about what occur, basically a way of ensuring that all that is true to them is laid out in front of everyone. I think they’re trying to make the author question the reality of the work normally produced. The author doesn’t really seem to question if their story is real, up until the end.

There was one scene in particular that I can’t remember now but what the characters said gave me the idea of an author writing this story and along the way becoming somewhat embarrassed or ashamed of it to ever produce it, and ending up throwing it away in the trash. Somehow, they’ve found a way to bring life to their story. Usually, the author is the one that shapes these characters, but in this play it felt much more like the characters had the upper-hand. The characters were able to draw in the actors and the directors and basically make nothing seem more important at that moment than the tragedy of their lives, that way the actors and director becomes tied into the tragedy.

What I was mostly left wondering was if the characters have appeared to several authors before, sort of like an apparition, to disrupt the flow of things. Who is to say they didn’t make up the story as they went along? Overall, I think it was a really interesting production.

Also, I read this review from the New York Times that I think can add to the discussion.

“The Americans”

As the polar opposite of an avid photographer I can not possibly truly appreciate the work of Robert Frank in his work “The Americans.”  However, I can truly equate his reaching for his goal much like the way Philippe Petit pursued his.  Of course Frank’s work was much less dangerous, but it still showed his great commitment to his work.

He was very influenced by his origins in Europe.  Growing up under in Europe during the time of Naziism, he experienced oppression from the government.  Luckily his art was able to provide him some comfort and when he traveled to America he was hoping to experience the freedom the United States promises to any prospective immigrant.  When he got here however he was shown a different side of the United States that many citizens were not able to see because essentially their eyes grew blind to it.  There still was a lot of oppression just not on all, but some.  Racism, classism, and sexism were rampant, and his work “The Americans” had shown this and displayed America in this light.  It makes sense why there was an uproar of this title.  It was bold, and painted the world’s newest growing superpower in a negative light, somewhat jeopardizing its credibility on an international scale.  This much like the opera reflects the power and influence of a piece of art on politics and society.

Opera: An Unexpected Joy

Upon looking over the page, I noticed that a post I thought I had made had not posted and so now, weeks after the performance here I am discussing my take on the performance.

Going into the opera I did not believe my experience would be any better than my first with this kind of performance.  During my first experience, I was incredibly bored.  The subtitles were displayed above the stage which made it very hard to watch what was going on on the set while reading the translations.  It made it very hard to keep up with the plot of the play and there were not many jokes and one-liners thrown into the opera to make it even remotely funny.

This first experience put a cloud over me, and prevented me from really appreciating this art.  My new experience at the Metropolitan Opera House broke me free of that cloud and fog.  Even in the opening scenes of the performance I was baffled by the ingenuity of the set.  The way it was able to rotate to provide a dynamic set was a true incredible feat of engineering.  This was the first thing that had captivated me, of course the music playing was quite lively and performed with no signs of mistakes, but as a prospective engineer I must put the technology of the art above the art itself.  Another piece of tech that I found that made the experience more enjoyable was the personal subtitles playing before me.  They allowed me to quickly jump between the words and the action on the stage in a way much better than at my previous excursion to the opera.

Besides the tech used, I had also thoroughly enjoyed the plot of the play.  Although at first it was a little confusing, the characters’ lives were all carefully interwoven in a way that would cause massive confusion and misunderstandings.  As an audience, we can only laugh at all the misunderstandings and confusion on stage but understanding the play as a whole and seeing where it originates and the inspiration of the play you can appreciate it in a more fulfilling way.  In class I was surprised learning that the play was essentially an insult to the estate lords of Spain.  It just goes to show that even a work of culture, a form an entertainment, can have large political and socially driven motives.

 

-Kevin Call

American Journey

Pictures are worth a thousand words.

Taking pictures is an art, and like Robert said, you need passion AND purpose.

The documentary presented us a guy who went around and took pictures of what he saw. What I probably liked most about his photos were its complete randomness. Robert took pictures that ranged from the flag with the boy in it, to outside his hotel at Butte. And to compile it into a book and called “The Americans”, Robert Frank had to have a lot of guts, because like they said in the movie, Americans got very defensive about it. It showed the “American Dream” and the “American Nightmare”. I truly admire Seclier for taking the time to follow the footsteps and piece back everything. It is rather a tough task.

For some reason this film kind of reminded me of the book “Into The Wild” by Jon Krakauer. It follows the journey of a man who took a journey across America. Anyone else think this?

 

~Christopher Chong

American Journey

This documentary seemed more focused on Philippe Séclier’s personal journey that about Robert Frank’s book. To me, it felt like Philippe decided he was going repeat Frank’s journey and decided he might as well film it. The documentary was not particularly well thought out. Many of the places Séclier visited because they were photographed in Frank’s book, The Americans, no longer existed, which made it rather insignificant to have in the documentary. Also, many of the people that were interviewed in the documentary did not know much about the book and often did not remember when Frank came around. The two best parts of the documentary were the interviews with Frank’s printer and publisher because they provided stories about the process of making this book and also the true purpose of making this book. These were really only the two interviews that provided good insight into the making of The Americans.

The City in the Clouds

For my NYC snapshot I took a picture of the city as I was leaving for the day to return to Staten Island.  Every time I take the ferry to come to Manhattan I watch as the buildings grow out of the ground, and poke deep into the sky.  It is an experience that can never get old.  I wish the day we had to take the pictures had better weather to better depict the feelings created by the sight of the skyscrapers.  The way the background influences the overall mood of a photograph is astounding.  The grey sky and dull colors in this particular one establish a sense of dread that I never experience on my travel across the water.  Instead, I usually feel empowered, ready to take action and accomplish great things.  That’s the power the city can have on people.  It can fill them with dreams and hopes for the future, but maybe the grayness of this background and the exiting of the city could represent the dismissal of those same dreams and their crumbling to dust.            1011141335b

The Cabdriver’s Smile

In “The Cabdriver’s Smile”, Denise Levertov writes about a cabdriver with rather poor customer service skills. The cabdriver does not seem to accept the passenger, even after receiving a very generous tip and is not even pleased when a fellow cabdriver greets him, even though he does not actually know the man. Upon seeing the cabdriver’s license photo, the passenger concludes that this man is hiding “longing and hope”. I do not feel this is necessarily a fair conclusion, especially since she has only seen this man once. For all she knows, the cabdriver is just having a bad day, but otherwise could be a very pleasant man. What about this man’s actions make the passenger extrapolate this one experience out to his entire life?

The Great Figure

This poem seems incredibly simple, especially since it is easily the shortest poem we have read this semester. However, it may be so simple that it is still very difficult. On the surface, William Carlos Williams writes about seeing a figure 5 on a fire truck, as sirens are going off. I do not understand why this is so significant. Why is the figure 5 so “Great”? Clearly there is some emergency that calls for a fire truck, but what is this emergency? I also do not understand the structure of this poem. Why is each line so short, yet there does not appear to be any pattern?

“Give me your tired…”

I wanted to take a better picture, but I was so tired, I couldn’t focus my camera or angle it correctly so this was the best I could do in my state. But I had to really capture it since it was the first time I took the train late at night by myself.

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This photo was taken 11:23pm on October 11 in the A train going downtown toward 42nd street Port Authority Bus Terminal. My closest friend, Stephanie, called me at 9:00pm on Saturday and said she was heading back to school the next morning and wanted to see me before she left. I hadn’t seen her all week because I had class, and her break was inconveniently placed right in the middle of the week. I really wanted to see her before she headed back to school, so I stuffed some clothes in my bag and was headed for the train station at around 10:00pm when my roommate Rebekah, ahem, warned me about the dangers of walking by myself at night. She also added a nice little story about gang activities in the area that one of our mutual friends had experienced. I was thoroughly frightened, so we texted a few people and only the one and only Pun answered! Yay for Chris! It was already around 11:30 by the time we started walking to the train station and I was exhausted. The walk to the A train on 125th street wasn’t bad at all that time of night, despite Rebekah’s warnings I got to the station safely.

I had to transfer from the A to the 1 and then the 7. I was hoping for a nice quiet empty subway ride home, but surprisingly there was a healthy amount of commuters still up at this time of night. The A train was filled with sleeping commuters, and all I could think of was Emma Lazarus’ poem “New Colossus” specifically the quote, “‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.'” But mostly the first part of the quote, haha. I was extremely tired, and even though there was a significant amount of people on the train, all you could hear was the braking of the train and the movement over the tracks. Everyone was sleeping, besides two girls who were texting or something. I can tell that most of them were just getting off work, they had their bags, work clothes on and looked exhausted. The city that never sleeps actually does sleep, on the trains, waiting for the bus, and anywhere it can. This city is filled with people that are trying to reach their dreams or just working hard to allow someone else to reach theirs. Just watching the amount of people getting on the train at 11:30pm, 12:00am, 1:00am in their work attire, sitting down and instantly falling asleep puts into perspective the reason why the city never sleeps.

The Great Figure…

William Carlos William’s “The Great Figure”, compressed into one line, would read thusly:

Among the rain and lights I saw a figure 5 in gold on a red firetruck moving tense unheeded to gong clangs siren howls and wheels rumbling through the dark city.

The figure 5 doesn’t heed the clangs, howls, and rumbling nor the rain and lights. It’s going to go fight a fire—what does it care?

The Cabdriver’s Smile…

Denise Levertov’s “The Cabdriver’s Smile”…

The guy’s Jewish (Star of David and something in Hebrew). Someone greets him with much enthusiasm and with his first name; he doesn’t know him? He accepts the generous tip, I imagine, with a curt nod and a “Thank you.” He’s hiding longing and hope though—he smiled at the camera (what kind of camera?) as if hoping to please.

The poet is squinting to read his license plate number; she probably took a photo of his car after getting out, perhaps to give the man a recommendation…