Category — Blurbs

You step outside into the cold, dark night as the stars sprinkled throughout the azure sky gleam brilliantly overhead. A tranquility born of slumber fills the air, while a sinister structure sprouts from the earth in the foreground. The setting described is that of Vincent Van Gogh’s famous “The Starry Night.” A new exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan showcases some of Van Gogh’s most famous and influential pieces, masterfully demonstrating the artist’s prodigious talent. Divided into five broad categories, including “Early Landscapes,” “Peasant Life,” and “Poetry of the Night: The Country,” the exhibition spans the career of a truly seminal artist. The aforementioned “The Starry Night” draws onlookers like moths to a flame, entranced by the vibrant colors and violent strokes that have become fundamental tools in the artist’s extensive repertoire. “The Potato Eaters,” completed in 1885, brilliantly captures the essence of an ailing generation. Juxtaposed with the foreboding imagery in “The Cottage,” the tragedy depicted through Van Gogh’s paintings is unparalleled. His artwork is not merely confined to the generation in which he lived—his work transcends the confines of time, relating to all generations. The exhibition is one that should surely not be missed. 

Although the theanyspacewhatever exhibit was very appealing, I was more captivated by the phrases that encircle the interiors of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. Of course, the interior design of the museum is already very fascinating on its own, with its formation of a helical spiral from the ground level up to the top of the building and the windows at the top of the building that allow skylight to pour into the museum during the day. As I first stepped into the museum, a big area of the ground floor is occupied by a phrase of three words: ARE WE EVIL. At first, I was debating whether it should be WE ARE EVIL (since the positioning of the words is questionable) or if it is posted as a question (yet the period at the end took away that suggestion). I was both surprised and excited at how one little phrase can lead me to ponder so much. And so, as I continued on throughout the museum, I was delighted to found numerous phrases all over the museum. Some of the phrases can be related to other phrases, while some just make sense on its own existence. Some of my favorite phrases include: “I believe in miracles,” “[N]othing can be hidden forever,” “Y[]ou never know” & “[Y]ou always knew,” “I have forgotten everything,” & “I cannot remember anything,” and “You can’t hide your love forever.” All of these phrases made me wonder about so many things, they all allow me to relate to incidents and events of my life. My visit to the Guggenheim Museum was very insightful all due to these mysterious phrases.

Clutching onto a yellow ticket, I stared down at my watch with bewilderment. How could this wait feel so long? Sitting on the fourth floor beside my shadow, I no longer found interest in looking at the paintings on the wall or the sculptures at my feet. I was there solely for the Van Gogh exhibit on the second floor; unfortunately, so was everyone else. Yellow tickets with a specific times printed on them were handed out to guests at the MOMA; my ticket read 5:00PM, though my watch’s all-of-a-sudden slothy hands had just struck 3:31. As excitement turned to curiosity, I explored all the floors of the MOMA, foolishly diluting my attention to the many pieces around me instead of concentrating on one piece that really connected. Later that curiosity turned to fatigue as my feet, magnetized to the floor, refused to budge; I thought perhaps it would be a good time to sit down. Lying on my back, I stared up into the ceiling, lifting my hand before my face, and glanced up at my watch. It was as if melting of the clocks from the Persistence of Memory had resonated to my watch during my last visit here; the time was barely four.

It’s still foggy how I managed to kill the hour; perhaps I lent it to a stranger, one of the few who actually appreciate the masterpieces and could make good use of the time. As the hands finally struck five, I quickly dashed to the Van Gogh exhibit, though careful not to lose my head, or any bits of it. The room was packed, a great showing for an artist who died poor and unknown. As I stared into “Starry Night Over the Rhone,” I sensed something more than visual; it was tactile, the texture of the paint that brought out the shadow of the sky, buried beneath the waves. My feet, no longer unyieldingly attracted to the floor, felt free; it felt like the way nature tickles you before a swim at the beach, as water retrieves back into the sea and carries the sand between your toes. As easily I could have fallen into the water, I instead let my feet sink into the floor beneath me as I looked into the painting and turned away from reality.

Last week when I attended the first program of the New York City Horror Film Festival in Tribeca, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect.  I’ve never even been to a small film screening before, much less a horror film. Despite my reservations, however, I actually found out how much fun it can really be. Unlike most commercial moviegoers, the members of the much smaller, more exclusive festival were much more eager to interact with others – and, well, to interject hilarious quips right in the middle of the movies, much to the amusement of everyone else. I’ve never been very comfortable watching horror films, even in the comfort of my own room and surrounded by friends – but I actually found myself really enjoying the experience. Even if the movies weren’t that good, the audience definitely was entertaining. But if you’re not someone who likes paying a little more money to see some weird, lower-budget and usually independent horror movies, or you don’t like listening to or being distracted by other audience members, the NYC Horror Film Festival probably isn’t for you… (The program I went to cost $16 per person, and had one independent short film, and one major picture by Capcom.) But personally, I found the experience definitely more entertaining than seeing a major commercial film by myself.

First hearing about this musical I wondered how could anyone do a musical on such a boring game like golf? There wasn’t really a plot to this play but it was really funny and enjoyable. The scenery was extremely simple but the performance was outstanding. It consisted of three men and one woman singing all about golf. I was very impressed by the musician because she played the piano well. They cleverly hid the pianist behind a palm tree which I thought was amusing. The songs they sang varied in many aspects about different social and political topics. Some of my favorite musical numbers were “A Show About Golf,” “Big Bertha,” and “Tiger Woods.” Not all the jokes were funny and I noticed the actors had to improvise because predicting the audience’s reaction was not easy. I really enjoyed the scene of an old man spending about 10 minutes trying to get ready to swing and the joke about how to determine which way to swing. Honestly I would not mind seeing this show again because it has at least one joke for everyone to laugh at!