Author Archives: lrosen
Posts by lrosen
Club 57
In the Club 57 exhibit, this particular piece caught my eye. It is Sur Rodney’s “Learn to Draw Your Own Conclusions,” from 1980. In hindsight, I am a bit surprised that it was this particular piece that I was most drawn to because in comparison to most of the other features of this exhibit, it is dull. There are no vibrant colors jumping out at the viewer or big, bolded letters to inform you of a club event. It seems like a piece that would easily be overlooked or missed along the way. For this reason, I’m particularly glad that I happened to choose it.
Even though we cannot really make out anything that is written on the picket signs, we still can gather an idea of what is going on. This definitely is reflective of what is going on in our world today, and I think this is part of the reason why I had such a strong reaction to this piece. Throughout this exhibit, a strong emphasis was placed on challenging social norms and ridding the people of all the restrictions of what is considered proper. One of the most important ways of doing that is by protesting through a variety of different methods, as we continue to see today. By dressing in a certain way, playing a certain type of music, or forming a protest group such as the one that is depicted here, the public unrest is made clear. The social norms will only shift as a result of the sort of movements and pushes that are exemplified throughout the Club 57 showing. The title encourages allowing our own thought processes to stray from what we are constantly being taught, form our own personas and decide who/what we want to be for ourselves. I think this is an extremely important message that will continue to be true for generations to come. This piece definitely resonated with me for reasons such as these.
M. Butterfly
Even though we had expectations set for M. Butterfly based on our in class reading of the script, seeing it presented on a stage in all of its detailed glory was by far way better than I had anticipated. From the costume design to the sound effects and set design, every minute of the show was just as intriguing as the last.
I loved the way that this Broadway production used panels similar to those in the opera itself. The different images pasted upon them, such as those containing the bright colors displaying the salute to the Communist takeover in China and the faces of characters within the Chinese opera, brought all of these aspects to life. The eye catching designs kept us invested and really made me feel like I was fully submersed in the same culture that Gallimard was. Even during the opening scene, when the panels were bare and dimly lit by a single bulb, it felt as if we really were watching a cell. Seeing the environment in which all of these events were taking place created a new perspective, one in which we forget that the people we watch are just characters. They feel real.
Another aspect that I found myself absolutely amazed by was how well Jin Ha took on the role of Butterfly. Especially regarding the tone of voice that Ha used, which I can only imagine took at least months of training and practice, it was captured impeccably well. Small details such as hand motions and the enunciating of words in a particular manner carried the persona of Butterfly so thoroughly that I forgot it was a male depiction. Even during and after the reveal at the end, I found myself so emotionally invested in the relationship between Gallimard and Butterfly. We could so clearly see the pain felt by both of the characters, and the audience certainly felt it too.
Roosevelt Island Tram
For our second visit to the Roosevelt Island Tram, we decided to start gathering footage of exactly how this method of transportation functions. We collected videos from the outside perspective of the tram, as it left and came into its station, as well as its gliding through the sky over the East River. We paid special attention to how easily the bright red color of the Tram is able to stand out against the somewhat dreary (since the day we visited happened to be cloudy) backdrop, full of various shades of gray and other muted tones. This iconic color was also the subject of one of our interview questions for people riding the tram. Other things that we ask our interviewees to consider are the different feeling of the tram environment, as opposed to the business of the subways and the bus, and of course, the beautiful view. We also gathered footage and photographs of the spaces that greet us as we get off of the tram on both the Manhattan side and the Roosevelt Island side, taking note of how they are similar and how they differ. On the Manhattan side, the loud honking and sounds of trucks/buses passing through is immediately heard, along with the crowding on the sidewalks and in the seating area outside of the station. The rider is completely absorbed by all of the aspects of New York City. This provides intense contrast with the Roosevelt Island side, which greets the rider with wide patches of green grass, right up until the river, and a much quieter environment. During our visit, I noticed that there were barely any cars on the streets, which can really never be said about the other side. Putting all of this footage together will allow us to explore the calmer, scenic tram and separate it from the chaos of Manhattan.
Through the sky
Our group decided to observe the Roosevelt Island Tram for our iMovie project. The easily identifiable red car, that seems to float seamlessly carrying its passengers between the island of Manhattan and the much smaller Roosevelt Island, was something that I had looked at from a distance countless times before. I would stare at it through the car window as I’d drive into Manhattan to visit my family, though I’d never actually been on it before. Even after all of those times that I’d watched from afar, I never stopped to consider that this was, just like the bus and the subway, a method of commuting for so many New Yorkers.
The view from the tram, as depicted here, is one of the major aspects of this space that sets it apart from the aforementioned methods. It provides a picturesque escape from the hustle and bustle of the city, allowing the passenger to admire the beauty of the skyline against the East River. The view is definitely worth the waiting for the tram to arrive (which for me was around 15 minutes). It is far quieter than the subway, which we can hear coming down the tracks from a distance away. It is a smoother ride than on the bus, as it does not stop every few hundred feet. The Roosevelt Island Tram seems to be a forgotten part of commuting, with the exception of those who take it regularly and know all about what it has to offer. The red car strays from the expectations that those who aren’t from New York have; have you ever seen a New York City postcard adorned with a photograph of this feature? I surely haven’t. Although this space does not receive much recognition, it certainly is an important part of the New York aesthetic, and deserves a visit.
Buried Child
Sam Shepard’s play, Buried Child, displays a strong statement on the disconnect between families. This disconnect is apparent from the moment the play begins, as Dodge is by himself in the living room, Halie is by herself in her bedroom, and Tilden is by himself in the kitchen. Although they are together, they could not be more apart. They communicate by screaming between the walls, which the actors in the 1996 production capture incredibly well. As an audience member, I could hear the whining nag that Halie’s character possesses, along with the frustration in Dodge’s when his yelling only triggers his cough, which is one of the crucial aspects that gives these characters their stage presence. When Tilden speaks to Dodge towards the beginning, his voice is distant and almost empty, like he doesn’t care what meaning his words carry. Although they are communicating with one another and in the same household, they remain very isolated from each other. Another aspect that was expertly captured in the 1996 production of this show was the closing scene. We see Vince, the “forgotten” family member, transition into the same man who was the center of the attention at the start of the play. When reading the script alone, we can create a visual of what exactly is going on, however it does not come with the same clarity that is brought when watching the production. From wrapping himself up in Dodge’s blanket and wearing his hat, to taking his seat on the sofa as the lights start to dim, he becomes the center of our attention, and also Halie’s, as she resumes the shouting at him from upstairs, out of view. We become aware instantly of how the cycle is just destined to continue starting and ending, over and over again. Through this we are led to believe that Vince will suffer the same fate as his grandfather did and the same disconnect will exist among the family.
Pina Bausch Performance
The importance of movement as the medium definitely came across in both Cafe Muller and The Rite of Spring. The first performance in particular, depicting the sleepwalkers, relied on their movements (more so than the music that accompanied the piece) to present the piece. The dancing in this work was considerably less conventional. Bausch used repetition to stress the interpersonal relationships that were put on display for the audience, although I personally found this piece a bit difficult to understand at first; I was completely uncertain what to make of it. It was not until I read thoroughly through the BAM Bill about the role of obstacles (the tables and chairs) and how these can interfere with the achieving of one’s dreams. The movements in this piece were less traditional, with the inclusion of what looked like flailing body parts, slamming of bodies against walls, and constant running on and off of the stage. The second performance, The Rite of Spring, pulled a much stronger emotional response out of me as a member of the audience. The only props used in this piece were the dirt covering the stage and the red fabric, which later was revealed to be a part of the costume design. The aggressive body movements, such as the stomping, along with the music, which did a fantastic job of exhibiting the extremity of emotions, the sounds of stomping, grunting, and the heavy breathing of the dancers themselves only emphasized the exertion that they were experiencing. I noticed that once the dancer put on the red dress, she was treated as an outsider, a traitor almost. This led me to question exactly why this was and what the red dress was supposed to represent. Part of the artistic expression may include this sense of wonder that the audience is left with, not knowing exactly what Bausch intended to say, but allowing what she does say to fit into our own mental maps.
The Highline
This sculpture, the work of Jon Rafman, is titled L’Avalée des avalés (The Swallower Swallowed). This piece recognizes the way of life that many New Yorkers, and teenagers especially, fall into. We are constantly being engulfed in various forms of mass media, from platforms such as Instagram and Snapchat to broadcast stations such as NPR or CNN. It is easy to be caught up in the events happening around us, and therefore, it is just as easy to forget to slow down and enjoy where we are, and what is truly important.
The Highline is a place where the fast pace of an NYC lifestyle does not have to be so fast, but instead, one can take the time to focus on what surrounds them. Instead of being “swallowed” up by the current affairs of other people or places, one can truly admire the green of the plant life lining the old railroad tracks or simply sit and stare out at the water for relaxation. The muted colors of this piece prevents it from jumping out at the viewer in an aggressive manner, but rather invite the individual walking through the Highline to take a closer look, or read the accompanying plaque to find out the artist’s intended meaning of this sculpture. So, although this particular image does not capture the crowd that this attraction draws in, it reminds its audience to take a step back, to look at the beauty of the architecture, the greenery, the other art exhibitions, and just admire them. We can forget about the bigger picture that constantly consumes us, causes us worry and distress, and focus on the calmness that it has to offer. The Highline, along with its function as a small art gallery, allow us to remove ourselves from the chaos of everyday life.
Comments by lrosen
"This could totally be a reach but when looking further into this painting and reading your analysis, I was paying more attention to the way that his skin tone changes across his nose and part of his cheek. Perhaps this can be interpreted as him feeling conflicted between two identities, one of which is "socially acceptable" and one in which he is truly free, such as in Club 57. The intensity of the painting could also be representative of how frustrating and imprisoning it must have been for somebody who was torn between these two very different worlds."
--( posted on Dec 4, 2017, commenting on the post
Club Insanity )
"I really appreciated how you incorporated the possibility that Gallimard was more in love with the idea of having his butterfly, instead of actually being in love with Butterfly herself. I think that the way in which she was viewed as an object of his affection, instead of another person deserving of respect and love, formed his desire to have her. She was treated as some sort of a "foreign treasure," one that Gallimard is praised for having by his male counterparts."
--( posted on Nov 29, 2017, commenting on the post
M. Butterfly )
"I really love this picture. The timeless aesthetics of the Plaza have been established over and over throughout many different generations, with all of its prestige and grandeur. All of that is exhibited here, from the materials used in the building itself to the suits that the customers are wearing. We can see how the elitist, expensive destination that is The Plaza has remained such a luxurious space in New York City. Another aspect that I really appreciated about this image was the fact that it depicted shoe shining. This is something that I think many people think of in reference to the past, with decreasing popularity over time. So to me, it almost feels like a glimpse of the history of not only The Plaza, but part of NYC as well, yet in a modern take."
--( posted on Nov 6, 2017, commenting on the post
The Plaza Pt. 2 )
"I think that your site really captures the essence of what it means to be in New York. We are constantly surrounded by people with different pasts and backgrounds; we never know what hardships these others have had to go through. However, our city accepts these differences and pushes us towards furthering our acceptance and reminding each other that diversity is a wonderful thing. Through monuments such as the one your group visited, we are reminded that although we cannot change the tragic acts of the past, we can still stand together in solidarity and work towards a future where these terrible things no longer happen."
--( posted on Oct 23, 2017, commenting on the post
Visiting the African Burial Ground )
"I thought it was very interesting how you addressed Tilden's need to be taken care, along with how that it referenced a few times through Halie's screaming. It's ironic in a way because aside from those points, we never actually see any of the other characters trying to take care of him or offering him aid/guidance. They reference the grave mistake he made to be kicked out of New Mexico, but as far as we know, no resolution or help has been offered to Tilden. This just goes to show how deep the facade of familial relations can go. They are a family, but they do not share any emotional connections with one another."
--( posted on Oct 8, 2017, commenting on the post
Digging Deeper in the Play and Production of Buried Child )
"I really appreciate your idea of how some of the dance in Cafe Muller may have been influenced by bringing forward past situations and relationships. While watching this performance I also found myself wondering about how each character was connected to the next. The similarity in costume and movements between the dancer who remained in the corner for the majority of the piece and the woman who seemed to be one of the main points of foci led me to question if maybe they were supposed to depict the same person in two different time periods, or maybe two different generations of a family."
--( posted on Sep 22, 2017, commenting on the post
Pina Bausch’s “Cafe Muller” and “The Rite of Spring” )
"I think that you've really captured the essence of the movement of NYC in this image, while also exhibiting something unique about it. It's almost as if the tranquility of the Highline itself is felt while looking at it, which is a feeling that can be difficult to find in such a noisy and busy city. Each aspect of your photograph stands out in its own way, the bright green of the plants, and especially the phone being held up. Admiring the beauty of a location such as the Highline can easily be done through the screen alone, but the way that you described it, as a way to capture the moment and relive it, sheds a lot of light onto the way we look at and analyze art today."
--( posted on Sep 10, 2017, commenting on the post
Renewal and Revival )
In the Club 57 exhibit, this particular piece caught my eye. It is Sur Rodney’s “Learn to Draw Your Own Conclusions,” from 1980. In hindsight, I am a bit surprised that it was this particular piece that I was most drawn to because in comparison to most of the other features of this exhibit, it is dull. There are no vibrant colors jumping out at the viewer or big, bolded letters to inform you of a club event. It seems like a piece that would easily be overlooked or missed along the way. For this reason, I’m particularly glad that I happened to choose it.
