Author: Nureen Ahammed

Turandot was my first opera, and my experience watching it got rid of some of the preconceived notions I had about opera. I entered the Met believing that I would not like Turandot, simply because I never really liked listening to opera music and the idea of sitting through hours of people singing in a language I did not understand seemed extremely boring. However, I really enjoyed my experience watching Turandot. My favorite aspect of the opera was the set, because as Alexandra mentioned before, the set was very grand and extravagant. I especially loved the set for Turandot’s court; it was extremely bright, filled with extravagantly dressed court people, and dancing court ladies. These sets stayed true to the idea of grandeur that most of us have when we think of courts; and most of all just very aesthetically pleasing.

The orchestra was essential to setting the mood of the opera. Even when I did not pay attention to the (extremely helpful) subtitles in front of me, the music showed whether the mood on stage was grave, lighthearted, happy, etc. It also signaled shifts in mood, or helped to seamlessly transition from one mood to another in the same scene. For example, in the scene where Turandot presents Calaf with the riddles, the music signals a shift in mood as it starts out ominous, reflecting the crowd’s belief that Calaf would die, and ends more cheerfully as the crowd gains hope for Calaf’s success with the riddles.

I also liked Liu, the only likeable character for me in the opera. Her singing truly drew out emotion, since she was very good at expressing her sorrowful, one-sided love for Calaf. In the scene where Turandot and the crowd are trying to draw out Calaf’s name from her, her singing and sorrow really drew out sympathy. I did not understand her devotion to Calaf, especially since he was willing to risk his father and Liu for his love (obsession)-at-first-sight for Turandot. But Liu’s singing, along with the music that accompanied it, were so emotionally charged that I found pitying her situation.

The plot was one of the aspects of the opera I did not like–it was very predictable. There was the cold princess, the instant-love, the smitten, clever prince, and finally, the prince who eventually won over the reluctant princess. I know that this plot might not have been as cliched when it came out, but I personally did not find the plot as engaging. I also did not find most of the characters very sympathetic, other than Liu and Calaf’s father. I thought Calaf’s love was selfish and unreasonable, as he would not stop his own challenge for Turandot, even when the villagers begged him to reconsider since their own lives were at risk. His reaction to Liu being tortured was not as strong as I expected it to be–at one point, he even called out something along the lines of “You know nothing, slave!” when he feared that she would reveal his name. He valued his quest to “attain” Turandot more than human life. I found Turandot even more unsympathetic since I really did not understand her reason for beheading all her previous suitors. I guess for me, the killing of an ancestor did not seem like a valid reason to kill off every and any man who approached her.

Overall, though, I did enjoy this opera performance. The sets, the music, and Liu really made this performance stand out beautifully despite the flaws I found in the plot and characters.

William Klein

Broadway and 103rd Street, New York

1954-55

I was first drawn to the photo because of the expression on the older boy’s face. As I sifted through the images, I noticed that most of the people in the photographs carried neutral or solemn expressions–it was difficult to interpret their emotions immediately. Their expressions were much more subdued and subtle. So, when I came across this photo, my eyes immediately focused on the boy’s strange expression. It may be because it was the “loudest” expression I had come across, or maybe because I found the expression inherently familiar. It reminds me of a boy who is eternally playful, and sometimes getting carried away in the role he pretends to play. I was also drawn to how the photo included the boys surroundings, and more specifically, the second boy watching him, almost in adoration. But he also seems to be keeping the taller boy grounded in the way he places a hand on the older boy’s arm, as if to tame him. By including the surroundings, this photo narrates a story by depicting what the relationship between these two boys are like.

This photo stays true to the Rule of Thirds, as neither of the boys are centered in the picture, but at the upper left and right hand corners of the photo. This really helps in drawing the eye towards their faces, while keeping the picture much more balanced because not only are we getting a view of the boy’s expression, but their surroundings and what caused such expressions.Also, by placing the taller boy’s face in the upper left hand part of the photo, our eyes are definitely pulled off the center of the photo and towards the edge of the photo.

Klein also follows the rule of keeping vertical objects off the center of the photo. The gun, which would have dominated the photo if placed in the center, is instead placed a bit to the left. This gives way for the viewer to see not only the taller boy’s expression, but also where the shorter boy makes contact with the boy, which is important because it is telling of the two boys’ relationship. Additionally, Klein also follows the guidelines for pointing. Since the gun is an object that points, it is pointed into the photograph instead of out, which allows the viewer to focus on the photo and not out of the photo.

For my picture, I definitely want to follow the Rule of Thirds. Although I most likely will take a picture of a place, I still want to follow the rule where each space takes up the frame in thirds and not halves. This rule helps create more interesting photos, rather than the typical balanced photos, that capture many different parts of a scene while still allowing for a clear focus.

-Nureen Ahammed

When the dancers first began stomping, clapping, and slapping their thighs in a circle with their eyes taped over, their movements seemed random, almost clownish. However, the repetition of these movements soon began to take on a rhythm for me, where every performer remained unified and in-sync with each other. It was interesting to see this unity change throughout the performance, as they gradually began dancing while facing away from each other, and finally dancing in different directions. It was almost an organized chaos, with the dancers hopping in different directions yet performing the same exact patterns of stamping, clapping, and slapping.

The occasional additions of humor really picked up the performance since it broke away from the two hours worth of constant repetition of the traditional Bavarian dance. It was so easy to get lost and distracted in the repetitions until there was a change. For example, early in the show, the dancer in the suspenders (the one who left the earliest) had a solo, where at one point he lifted his legs straight up in the air just to have one of the other dancers knock him down, which was a startling move in comparison to the rest of the dance. There was also humor in spotting one dancer straying away or becoming isolated from the group; this was kind of an acknowledgement to the both physical and emotional exhaustion that came along with the strenuous dance.

The last part of the dance really was the highlight of the performance for me. The background music was much more attention-grabbing (like the one with the British singer), and it was interesting to see how the dancers adjusted the rhythm of their movements to fit the songs. Once “Say Something” came on, and the dancers ran off the stage while the singers sang “I’m giving up on you,” it really brought the audience back to the beginning of the performance, when one of the dancers had explained that anyone, audience members and dancers alike, was free to leave at anytime of the performance. Seeing the dancers run off the stage in exhaustion after two hours of thigh-slapping, foot-stomping, and hopping (which was an amazing feat) really emphasized how aware the performers were of this mystical, invigorating, and exhausting dance.

Brian Seibert’s review, “The Duet as a Physical Sculpture, Unburdened by Noise or Clothing,” focuses on Molly Lieber and Eleanor Smith’s dance performance Rude World. Throughout the review, Seibert highlights how the dancers, although seemingly “dancing only for each other” in a “self-contained world,” obviously made it for “the external gaze.” Although the dance between the partners seems private, their movements are often a showcase for the audience. This point is clear throughout all the paragraphs, which is a technique Wendy Oliver emphasizes, stating that “all writing on a specific dance” must be “connected to your thesis statement for that dance” (77).

Although Seibert does not supply the reader with enough description to actually envision the dance itself, he does supply snippets of description, which is effective in this case because, as Oliver points out, “generalized description of a…section of a dance is appropriate for capturing its flavor” (79). He is able to capture “the flavor” of the dance through use of specific words and phrases such as “sensual,” “tactile,” and “interplay of weight, muscular tension and release.” He also makes effective use of language through similes such as “they are like tangled strands of seaweed caught up in gently churning waves,” which according to Oliver, helps to “communicate the impact of the work in an engaging way” (90).

Furthermore, Seibert goes on to provide his own interpretation, exemplifying Oliver’s technique: “forming a plausible hypothesis about the meaning of a dance and then backing it up” (85). Although he does not provide interpretations as frequently as descriptions, he picks a specific part to interpret the dance as a whole. He states that the performance was “sensual, tactile, but the tone…much less erotic than exposed and undefended” and goes on to defend his view by describing the “prone Ms. Lieber [pulling] her knees under her and [arching] her back.”

Along with this interpretation, Siebert concludes the review with an evaluation. Overall, he describes the dance as “too haphazard and insufficiently thought through,” and that “the view is beautiful, but it isn’t quite enough.” However, unlike Oliver description of evaluation as building “on description, analysis, and interpretations to make arguments” regarding the successes and failures of a performance, Seibert fails to build up to his evaluation. His descriptions and interpretations fail to lead up to his final conclusion–he does not use them to indicate why he thought that the dance was not enough.

The Surrealist art movement began with the goal of accessing the subconscious mind and imagination, conveyed through images, in order to create a new perception of reality. However, many Surrealist painters, although united by their inspiration from the subconscious, often differed in their techniques to portray it effectively. Some artists depicted ordinary objects placed out of context, while some painted dreams, hallucinations, and primal desires. Others, such as Joan Miro and Max Ernst use contrasts between the art and its subject matter in some of their works, which emphasizes, and therefore, effectively conveys and stimulates the subconscious mind. Although Miro’s The Birth of a Nation and Ernst’s Two Children are Threatened by a Nightingale are both examples of imaginative, surrealist paintings, Miro expresses the subconscious mind through the contrast between his abstract style and the use of ordinary objects, while Ernst does so through the contrast between his realistic, crisp style and reference to dreams.

Many of the art pieces we looked at in the MoMA were abstract, often defying reality and instead adopting a dream-like, irrational quality that is characteristic of many surrealist paintings. As a result, attempting to interpret the images can be a bit difficult. However, it is possible to interpret art through context, as Berger states that art represented “the totality of possible views taken from points all round the object (or person) being depicted” (18). One of the paintings we observed contained familiar objects such as balloons, shooting stars, and kites despite the unusual context in which these objects were painted–these items were depicted with a gray, dark, and messy background, which makes it challenging to understand how these objects are connected to each other and the background. Therefore, it is important to acknowledge that such objects, which in this case are often seen in childish, innocent contexts, can actually be shown through a variety of different perspectives and concepts.

Barnet emphasizes the importance of asking basic questions such as “What is my first response to the work,” “When, where, and why was the work made,” and “What is the title?” in order to formulate ideas and interpretations (57). Initial reactions towards especially shocking pieces of art can help to clarify an interpretation of an art piece, as it pushes us to go back and find the specific features of the work that elicited such a reaction in the first place. The background information of the work is also helpful. For example, for surrealist paintings, understanding the movement behind the work, as well as the place in which it was created can help us understand the abstractness of the painting. For example, although Salvador Dali’s “The Persistence of Memory” might be confusing to the viewer at first sight, knowing the purpose of the surrealist movement might help one to determine why or how the painting is surrealist.

Often times, many of us are afraid to interpret an art piece in fear of drawing the wrong conclusions, or more specifically, interpreting the art in a manner different from how the artist intended. This fear brings up Barnet’s question: “Does the artist’s intention limit the meaning of a work?” (23) It is important to remember that everyone views things, especially art, differently. According to Berger, what we see is “the relation between things and ourselves” (9). Naturally, how we relate to things, such as images, vary as we have different experiences. Therefore, it is often argued that “the creator of the work cannot comment definitively on it” because “the work belongs…to the perceivers, who of course interpret it variously” (Barnet 24). Our interpretations of art are valid, as it is perceived differently by everyone. This can be applied to surrealist paintings, as their abstract qualities magnify the variety of interpretations because they are meant to stimulate the imagination, which is boundless.

If I could use one word to describe this performance, it would be startling. This performance was not the typical smooth, in-sync, polished performances that we are used to; it was raw, harsh, intriguing and unsettling. There seemed to be two different performances in one–I found myself struggling to pay attention to both of the dancers at once. However, what made the performance most unique was the movement; the emotion visible in both the dancers’ faces and their frantic gestures were strong. There were some parts that genuinely startled me, especially when at some point, both the dancers slowed down, almost to a stop before one of them began screeching unintelligibly and throwing beach balls all across the room. The unpredictability of the performance amazed me; I was surprised that every single part was choreographed, especially since most of it seemed like spur-of-the-moment, passionate improv. It was this element that succeeded in keeping the audience constantly on edge and attentive throughout the lengthy performance.

Since the show was so complex, in both the message and movements, I found it a bit hard to interpret, and even harder to relate to the topic of the show: the overview effect. However, near the end, I did manage to find a connection when both the dancers were going around in circles, naming a number of countries before chanting “harmony.” For me, this part connected most with the overview effect, because it represented the thought process of someone experiencing it, seeing all these different nations as one, united and in harmony. It is amazing how they were able to incorporate a scientific phenomenon into an art form, especially since many of us never associate science with art. This performance truly helped showcase the more human and emotional side of science.