“A Masterpiece of Theatre or An Incomprehensible Comedy?”

Hello lovely world! While walking into the theater to view “The Bald Soprano,” I was hoping to view some authentic entertainment, rather than witnessing something similar to the Anthony Caro exhibit. Fortunately, the play had met my expectations and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I found “The Bald Soprano” very amusing and was surprised by how unpredictable it was. In my opinion, the acting was impeccable and it was inspiring to see how these actors were so engrossed in their acting. It’s as if nothing seemed more important to them than giving a vivacious and meaningful performance. I always find it scintillating to see how some people are so passionate and ambitious towards their work. Even though the play was quite hilarious and wonderful to view, I was completely perplexed by what occurred. The significance of this play escaped my mind due to the multifarious random gestures and nonsensical dialogue illustrated by these characters. With all the incessant yelling, outlandish stories, and long pauses of silence, the true meaning of the play for me was obscured.

Another unusual observation I identified was how the characters, primarily the male actors, were expectorating towards each other. Honestly, it was quite disturbing to see projectiles of spit shooting out from all over the place. In fact, I was worried I might get struck by it, since I was sitting close to the actors. Luckily, nothing of that sort occurred (phew!). Basically, everything seemed to occur so rapidly that I was unable to comprehend what was going on. I even noticed that the discussions the characters were having weren’t even remotely related to what was said previously. The characters just seemed to digress from the main topic and just began behaving as maniacs, similar to what took place in the God of Carnage. Also, how these characters made the most insignificant matters seem like the most important was, indeed, very comical.

I strongly felt that this play was trying to speak to a New York audience by trying to reveal the corrupt and volatile natures of the middle-class and upper-class groups. For instance, through the absurd behavior and speakings witnessed, Ionesco’s clever use of satire is clearly seen. Although some things still remain ambiguous for me, such as the sky on the floor and the upside down plates, I felt Ionesco was displaying to the audience the folly and vice of human nature and was mocking it. I say this because in the ending of the play, the Martins were substituted by the Smiths (play repeated with the Martins) to show the interchangeability of all the characters’ personalities. Furthermore, the fact that the men supported each other and the women stood up for one another exemplifies the erroneous aspects of certain strata of people, which was also conspicuous in the God of Carnage.

Unfortunately, due to these characters’ anomalous and childish behavior, I lacked the opportunity to relate to them. Nevertheless, I thought that these actors were making an attempt to speak to us when they turned around and looked at the rest of the audience. When the actors were staring at me and the other people, I felt as if they were scrutinizing the audience’s reactions (broke the “fourth wall”). For the most part, I believed that all the actors made an indefatigable effort to convey a message (still not completely known to me, yet) through their acting.

In conclusion, I greatly enjoyed the play, mainly because it made me laugh and that it showed the corruption of human nature in such an ingenious, yet subtle manner. Hopefully, if I am able to further analyze the “bizarreness” of this play and find out its true meaning soon, I will be more grateful towards it. Now that this play is over, I am very eager to attend the plethora of plays that await me in the imminent future 😀

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First scantron of my college career.

Second Pop Quiz of my college semester.

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My good pal Roy

At Maker Faire everyone was really impressed by this woman's glass blowing. I really loved her rainbow of supplies.


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Who needs a first-aid kit when you have a Pillow Pet?

 

 

I strained my neck on the way home from The Bald Soprano, and this is my makeshift first aid kit.  I’ll let you decide which has been the most helpful.

 

Also, in case anyone is planning on straining their neck, ice is actually much better than heat.  Heat increases swelling if applied during the first 48-72 hours after the strain…which of course I only found out after applying heat.  D’oh.

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Clucking and Screaming

Having learned a foreign language in high school, I can begin to understand Ionesco’s frustration. In fact, the opening scene reminded me of one of the stunningly boring tapes I was forced to listen to in French class. It is nine o’ clock. We ate fish and chips for dinner. We live in London. Even the slow moving manner of Mrs. Smith’s sentences evoked the feeling that she was speaking to someone who didn’t understand her. (Which I thought might have been true judging by the lack of reaction by Mr. Smith)

From there, the play spiraled into some nonsensical world where everyone’s name is Bobby Watson, people have been dead for 1,3, or 4 years but are somehow getting married, and a couple does not remember that they are husband and wife. I must admit I was thoroughly confused when I watched the show. Despite chuckling a few times, there was a confused look plastered to my face for the majority of the play. When the two couples starting spouting random words and the lights went off, I turned to the person next to me and said “WHAT?!?!”

Oddly enough, once the lights came back on, and the Martins were having the exact conversation as the Smith’s had had at the beginning of the show, I actually started to understand what the point was. Pointing out the interchangeability of the couples somehow cleared up the rest of the satire in my mind. I actually internalized the caricature of the English middle class. After that, I slowly got Ionesco’s play on language and modern conversation. I even figured out why everything had been upside down. (Something which had interested me while waiting for the show to start.)

Despite my complete confusion with the show, I must say the set designer and actors really tried helping the audience. The absurdist meets realist living room tried describing the life of the Smiths to us. And even though we had not a clue what the characters were saying, we could feel their emotions. Even clucking of the tongue and “hmmm”s came to mean something to us. The fighting scene, although complete nonsense was clearly a heated debate. Thanks to the actors, we got a glimpse of what was supposed to be happening.

The New York audience, like the audience of any major city can relate to this show because of its “class satire” status. However, the extreme frustration and awkwardness one feels watching the show is not something that the average New Yorker might enjoy. New Yorkers are known for being fast paced and knowledgeable people: the exact opposite of the characters in the show. I think this may have been the reason that the elderly made up the majority of the audience.

So was it a show worth seeing? Probably.

Would I see it again? NO!

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How curious! How bizarre!

“CASCADES OF CACA!! CASCADES OF CACA!!” How could I not laugh? It was so nonsensical and the energy of all of the actors was so awesome that when they spoke you could literally see the spit come out of their mouth. The three quarter round seating was very unique in the black box where at times it became super dark and suspenseful. Before this performance when I thought of a play I thought of a movie theater seating arrangement but instead of a screen there would be actors up on a stage giving a live performance. This was better than that. I could even say that this experience was even better than IMAX 3D (cheaper too). These actors were all in your face with the surrounding audience watching their every expression. The actors had to put in the extra effort to be able to be so close to their audience and their hard work paid off with a successful performance.

Going back to the actual content of the play. The plot made no sense to me at all. I was really not following anything that was going on other than the random humor that everyone else was laughing at too. I think I felt frustrated at first because I didn’t understand what any of this actually meant but then I was okay because no one else did either. So I realized that the point of the whole play was to be entertained in a way that would be somewhat unique to the way any other audience member would be entertained. Since the play was so random there were only certain parts I remember such as the story of the doctor who successfully performed liver surgery on himself but then failed on his patient or the controversial theory of whether or not a doorbell ringing implies that someone is there. I don’t think this play appeals to a New York City audience as a whole. The only people I can see attending this play are avid viewers of theater like the elderly audience that we saw at The Pearl. What you take or remember from the play can be so different from person to person that I would not be able to recommend this play to a friend because I wouldn’t know how to explain it. I’d probably just be in fear of them punching me in the face for showing them a play they didn’t understand and made them angry for wasting their money.

Was there even a plot? For me the plot was completely destroyed when the play ended at the beginning of the story but this time with the characters all switched around. That just left this big question mark ?stamped on my mind. What did that mean? Characters don’t matter? That the way we perceive things to be could be another way if we only knew? Now don’t kill me for comparing this to a video game but here I go. In this game “Batman Arkham Asylum” you play as Batman and you are driving the batmobile with tied up Joker in the passenger seat. You are driving him to the prison of the insane where he will be wheeled off and the guards and warden prepare for the highest security prisoner they could possibly ever have. How does this relate to the play we just saw? In the middle of playing the game there was one part where the game gets stuck and goes all the way back to the beginning but this time Joker is driving the batmobile and Batman is the one who is going to be the prisoner of the asylum. The writers of this game may have gone for the same effect and probably knew what Ionesco’s genre was known for. The perception of reality was gone. The characters in both the play and the game are in an endless loop in which they will always rely on each other to have a constant back and forth. Does it really matter to us if the Smiths become the Martins and the Martins become the Smiths? Their characters were not important as the heated convoluted conversation they had with one another. Batman catching Joker or Joker catching Batman shouldn’t matter because they are both insane and will only exist as a pair. The characters of this play are unimportant as individuals. The only thing that was important was the whole package.

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Big Ben

This semester is about me readjusting.  Dealing with my friends being gone, the majority of which went to Israel to learn for the year, or went away to college. Dealing with what I was so used to having, leaving me with a handful of friends I’m not as close to.

But I always have Ben.

I have a great friend named Bennett. He’s an incredibly tall redhead who left to UMass this year.  He stands here at Queens as a symbol of  the friends I’m getting used to not having with me.  A symbol of making this change, and not taking it too hard.  And my friends, like Big Ben, aren’t gone; just geographically separated.

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La cantatrice avec cheveux ^_^

Have you ever had that moment where you’re watching something and have no idea what’s going on and loved every minute of it? That perfectly explains what happened Saturday night when we saw the Bald Soprano. I don’t know if it just means I’m insane but I loved the play and I could totally relate to it. There is no doubt in my mind that I could be at a friend’s house and end up screaming random words and discussing the probability of a person being behind the door when you hear the door bell ring. *cluck*

Throughout the whole play I was trying to piece together the reasoning behind certain decisions. Like, why were there random sentences being played at the beginning? Why is the sky the floor? Why are there so many random awkward silences? Why is the stage set up the way it is? How could they not know they’re married…? Are they really arguing about this? Oh my god I love the maid! Why are they just screaming random phrases at each other?! Honestly, after the play I was like ok I laughed a lot but what was the point? *cluck*

The most pivotal part of the play was the moment where they said “The Bald Soprano.” I leaned forward and was thinking, here it is! You know this part is going to be important! They said the name of the play! This is the moment where all the craziness before will make sense…and then they started screaming the most irrational things accompanied by the most entertaining facial expressions.

“Cockatoo! Cockatoo! Cockatoo! AEIOU! AEIOU! AEIOU!” *cluck*

This is the point where I’m thinking this play can’t possibly have a point. But after reflecting on the play more and reading the Director’s note it began to make more sense…Ionesco is satirizing the English language! And I instantly thought of Joseph Heller’s Catch 22. Both the play and the novel illustrate the impotence of language. The argument about the door bell, the discussion of Bobby the husband, wife, cousin, aunt, sister, brother, the back and forth between Mr. and Mrs. Martin as they realize the reason they recognize each other is due to the fact that they’re spouses, etc. all show how lost you can get in language. *cluck*

How does it speak to a New York audience? I think the anarchy on stage reflects lots of the chaos you can find in New York streets and conversations. It also speaks to audience members like me who would enter a room and say “I’m Sherlock Holmes.” More importantly, I think it speaks a lot to New Yorkers who speak a different language. Because at the core behind Ionesco’s satire is the fact that he learned English as a second language. This idea instantly reminded me of dinner at the Afshinnekoos. Every now and then my parents might have heard a word in the news or read it in the paper and they ask me about it. Then the debate ensues. My parents make fun of the word they were asking about. Meanwhile, my brother and I make fun of Farsi and the strangeness of that language, like the fact that they have five different words that means ‘put’ and each has their own particular, specific use (-__-).

All in all, I thought the play was genius and the night was filled with confusion and a rush of different thoughts: there are so many old people in here, i hope this isn’t a snooze fest, why are they playing this, it’s just random sentences, oh look its starting, giggle giggle, OK this clock thing is getting on my nerves, how does she understand what he’s saying?  He’s just clucking! She said WC instead of bathroom teehee, wait they’re all named Bobby? They’re all insane, giggle giggle, I love the maid! Giggle giggle, if they say what a coincidence one more time I’m going to scream, giggle giggle, red and white eye? really they didn’t know they were married, the maid is Sherlock Holmes! Awkward silence (accompanied with the awkward turtle hand motion), giggle giggle, this is hilarious, giggle giggle, really? The maid and the fireman? They said the name of the play! Did you see her face? Woah, that’s a lot of spit, wait why are the lights dimming, they just repeated the dialogue, wait its over? *Clapping* … 40 minutes later on the train ride home while reading the Director’s note…ohhhhhhhh! Heheh light bulb went on! ^_^

 

 

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GUIDELINES FOR YOUR PHOTO JOURNAL PROJECT

Photojournal Project                                                HNRS125: Arts in NYC

Professor Healey                                                            meghanhealey@hotmail.com

 

 

Photojournal Project Guidelines and FAQ’s

 

Your Photojournal project is a five-week project, during which time you will try to tell your story using only images, which you capture or create. This project will be 20% of your final grade in this course, so this needs to be a well thought out project that you devote time to each week.

 

General Guidelines

 

  1. The broad theme of the project is to tell your story- or to put a finer point on it- the story of your first semester (give or take) of school through images
  2. You should try to take 1 photo (or more if you like) each day
    1. This photo can be something that you capture spontaneously, or an image that you “create” or stage, or you could do a combination of the two. Examples of this include:

i.     Setting up a specific rule or guideline for yourself, such as taking a photo at the same time each day no matter where you are.

ii.     One student decided to take a photo of him sleeping somewhere strange each day, like the quad, or his bathtub, or on a statue. This would be an example of partly staging it (the sleeping) but being spontaneous (taking the photo wherever he was each day). He wanted to show that his spring break was all about getting some sleep.

iii.     Creating a theme for your project. You could choose your neighborhood, or green spaces in the city, or some other “theme” that you feel you will be able to develop over the course of the month. Whatever theme you choose should relate to you on a personal level.

  1. You should also feel free to leave things open, just keeping your eyes peeled for great images that you discover or come across.
  2. I strongly suggest that you try to take at least three pictures every day, so that you can have some choices in putting the pictures into your journal, as you craft your story through the five weeks. But only 5 pictures per week are required.
  3. You need to do this daily, like writing in a journal, in order for the project to really work. It doesn’t work to just go out every Sunday and take a bunch of random photos and upload them to your journal. First, you are missing the point of the project, which is image-based storytelling over time, and second, that is not the assignment. I will be able to tell if that is what you are doing, and your poor grade will reflect the lack of effort in your project.
  4. You also need to balance your weekly photos with an eye for how the project will come together as a whole. Look at your photos together, and ask yourself- do I see a connection?   Is there a story that emerges from this journal?
  5. I will view your photos and send you an email commenting on your progress in random order about once every other week.
  6. You need to be organized and vigilant about uploading your photos at least twice a week. If you have not uploaded your photos when I look at your page, you will be reminded to do so, and miss your opportunity for critique. If the tech fellow and I notice that you are always uploading on the same day once a week, we will have to assume that you are not following the guidelines of the project, and this will be reflected in your grade.
  7. This project is not a scrapbook, or a series of “yearbook photos” of you and your friends. You should approach this as an artistic endeavor, and strive to dig deeper into your ordinary life. You are not just documenting your story, you are also commenting on it, as the other artists whose work you will study this semester do. There is nothing wrong with having some photos of you, or your friends, or you with friends if you feel that a particular moment or image is important to your journal. But a journal that is just you and your significant other partying with friends is not going to make the cut, and you will be asked to change the theme and subject of your portraits. In other words- if your Photojournal starts to look like a wayward Facebook page, you’re in trouble.
  8. Your journal will be really boring if you just take a bunch of pictures of the junk that is sitting on your desk, or your furniture in your dorm room. And for the record- I have seen a lot of photos of pencils “artfully arranged” on a desk and “lonely” notebooks thrown on a dorm bed… You will definitely not impress me that way. Try to seek out original subjects for your photos, or take clichéd subjects and explore them in a new and meaningful way.

10. Think about how your story fits into our larger theme of New York City through the lens of art. How does your experience here at the college change and shape your view of New York City? How can you capture the New York City of a Queens College Student through images?

11. You will be graded on the originality, thoughtfulness, and clarity of your project, as well as how you progressed through the project. How well you took your critiques and incorporated suggestions and notes and whether you improve your eye for images are an important part of your grade on this project.

12. If you are concerned about your project or need to discuss it, you can make an appointment to come and see me during my office hour. If you have issues uploading your photos, please contact our tech fellow at tsaishiou.hsieh@qc.cuny.edu

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The water is on fire!

The thought of this sentence is nonsense. Not only is it paradoxical, it’s ridiculous. Such sets the stage for the play we saw last night at the Pearl. It was wacky. It was capricious. It was hilarious.

From the first scene, I knew this play was going to be eccentric. It was perhaps in that moment that Mr. Smith became my favor character. As his wife initiated banal conversation, Mr. Smith simply clucked his tongue in response. Initially his response did irritate me, but as I realized it was solely a part of Ionesco’s experimental language, I found it humorous. I’ll admit, while watching the play, and even immediately after its completion, I was at a loss of words, and a bit confused. But after reading the Director’s note (which I should have done from the start), I was able to appreciate the seemingly nonsensical play I had just seen.

By creating scenes where the characters spoke essentially in gibberish, and told monotonous stories, Ionesco satirizes the way in which we communicate with each other. I found this to be genius. It would have been one thing to simply state that humans don’t pay careful enough attention to each other, but by blatantly demonstrating this through the characters’ irrational behavior, one can realize how trivial some of the conversations we have in our daily lives truly are. One example that stood out to me was when Mr. and Mrs. Smith were arguing about the doorbell ringing. One stated that no one is EVER at the door when the bell is rung, and the other that there is ALWAYS someone at the door. While this argument is fairly simple, it was a beautiful example of how humans can’t ever seem to come to a middle ground, even when the solution is obvious.

There are many ways in which this play can speak to a New York audience. New Yorkers aren’t exactly known for their patience, and neither were the characters in this play. Continuing with the doorbell example, each time the bell rang, Mr. Smith looked at his wife, anticipating that she would answer it. She then proceeded to do so, at a painfully slow pace. At one point, I wanted to jump up and open the door for her. For New Yorkers, moving at such a pace is unacceptable. If you do so, you’re either a tourist, or extremely old. Another aspect that could be applied to a New York audience is how the characters seemed to have known each other for ages, yet knew nothing about each other. When Mr. and Mrs. Martin enter the scene, they don’t even seem aware that they live in the same household. While I was initially annoyed that they couldn’t realize the obvious fact that they are married, I later applied the same concept to my apartment building. While common sense tells me that five other families live in my building, I could only identify one or two of them if they were walking on the street. Perhaps this goes along with the fast pace of New York. The thought of taking the time to get to know my neighbors seems to be laborsome and too much of a nuisance. And this seemed to be the way the characters of this play felt about each other, since they only thought to talk about superficial events, which even they admitted to being boring.

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