Going to the Metropolitan Opera was one of the events that I was particularly excited about for this class. I really like opera, and I really like Shakespeare, so I figured the combination would be something I would really enjoy.

Although the sets were interesting and very original, and the singing was of course amazing, I found the production as a whole a bit underwhelming. There weren’t many tunes in the opera that were particularly memorable. The music never made me go “wow.” Even though opera is not exactly supposed to be catchy like a pop song, there are opera tunes that definitely stick in your head and make you go “wow.”

A problem I had with the opera that I didn’t think about before seeing it was that since A Midsummer Night’s Dream isn’t meant to be an opera, the singing of it sometimes felt awkward and forced. Not only that, but it lost the iambic beat that Shakespeare’s writing has to it. For me, that’s one of the best parts about Shakespeare’s writing–that there is a rhythm and it’s rather consistent. With opera, this was lost completely. Singing his words in a slow manner or with extended syllables made the dialogue lose so much of its cleverness and spice. After all, Shakespeare plays aren’t just the words themselves; they’re the way they are said.

I found a lot of amazing photographs at ICP. There was so much raw human emotion showed in many photographs, but one that really caught my eye was a Lewis Hine photograph called “Dying Consumptive in a Tenement Entirely Below Street Level.” I spent a long time looking at this photograph. The title gives a lot more meaning to the photograph himself, because you wouldn’t know that this man was dying, or that the tenement was below street level if Hine had not given us this information.

I found this picture so captivating because of its darkness with small highlights of light, such as the window above his head and the candle on the small table beside him. The expression on his face is mysterious. He looks exhausted, clearly because he is very sick, but he also looks like his mind is not really there–that he’s being taken somewhere else and we as the viewers can only wonder what’s going on in his mind. There is so much I wonder about this man and his life–what his job is, if he has a family, where exactly he lives…this picture says nothing about these things but also says so much. He looks like his life is filled with darkness, because the photo feels so glum and dirty. Knowing the awful conditions of tenement buildings during this time just adds to the struggles of this man’s life.

I think this photo really compelled me mostly because of its title. If it had been called “Man in Tenement,” I may have looked past it without a second thought. But to know that he may have died the day after this was taken is really chilling and gives it a much stronger impact. Just knowing these details about the photo makes it much more meaningful and real. I felt really sad for this man, even though he is obviously not alive today. The fact that it’s a photograph, and not a painting, makes it feel eternal.

I listen to a lot of music. I don’t identify myself as someone who listens to any one type of music–I enjoy rock, classical, rap, blues, folk, everything. However apart from listening to Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, and Ella Fitzgerald every now and again, I have never been much of a listener to jazz. Although I have always appreciated jazz as a genre of music that takes an enormous amount of skill and finesse, I never took the time to listen closely to jazz and really explore it. I was really excited to see the jazz quartet at Juilliard because of this. I expected skill and perfection, but this performance exceeded my expectations.

I think the main reason why I never paid a huge amount of attention to jazz was because sometimes it feels a little all over the place–I would often find my mind wandering. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the music as much as something with a consistent melody. However during the performance at Juilliard, I found this to actually be something positive. The music, in its lack of consistent melody or lyrics, was meditative. I could clear my mind and fully immerse my brain in the sounds of the smooth, flowing jazz.

I really admired the saxophonist. Clearly, he was a master of his instrument; but not just musically. Seeing the way he moved while playing and the way he interacted with the other members of the band changed my entire listening experience. I felt connected with the players, and I feel like jazz is special in that way because it speaks to you without words.

I think my favorite part of the whole experience was that it felt very much like New York City. There’s something really nice about being by Lincoln Center in the fall, with the cool sounds of jazz playing in your ears. It reminds me of walking through Central Park with a cup of coffee and the leaves crunching beneath your feet as you walk past a guy playing the saxophone on a bench. The music that the quartet was playing was so crisp and beautiful that it conjured up a lot of images and scenes in my head. It became more about an entire bodily and mental experience rather than just hearing beautiful sounds.

The performance at Juilliard really opened my eyes to jazz music. I think I will be listening to and exploring jazz a bit more now that I have had that experience.

Having been to the Brooklyn Museum many times, I knew what to expect from this trip. I’ve gone to the museum many times with my parents and have also been several times with friends of mine. Every time I visit the museum, I find something new and I am always captivated by the wide variety of art that is on display. However, like most people who visit museums, sometimes I would find myself spending only a few minutes in a room, just walking past each painting without giving it much thought beyond “I like this” or “I don’t like this.” I wouldn’t stop and really look at a piece of art and think about the details or what it might mean in the context of history.

I really enjoyed the night at the museum and I felt like it actually got me to think a lot more about the art that I see around me. Even though I have loved and looked at art all of my life, I found that pushing myself to really think about the piece as more than just a pretty image has changed my entire mindset while looking at art.

I also really enjoyed the fact that we were having real, thoughtful conversations about the art. This was especially helpful for me because when I discuss ideas with other people, I am inspired by what they have to say. They may have noticed something on the piece that I didn’t notice, thus furthering my understanding of the piece.

One painting that I was particularly excited about was called “End of the Working Day” by Jules Breton. I had seen this painting before at the museum and instantly fell in love with it. I remember the first time I saw it. I was with a good friend of mine, and we stood there staring at the painting silently for about five full minutes. You can spot it from across the room–there is a setting sun slightly off-center that reflects a beautiful, warm light onto the faces of three women who have just finished their day of working in the fields. Not only are the colors in this painting phenomenal and vibrant, but there is so much subtle emotion shown in the body language and face of each woman depicted in the painting. My other group members also found the painting to be really beautiful and subtle, and I had a lot of fun discussing it and even gained some new perspective on the painting, from thinking differently about certain details that my group members pointed out.

Overall, I really enjoyed the night at the museum and found it to be an enriching experience. I’m now pretty excited for all of the other art events we’ll be attending; I think this seminar will expose me to a lot of culture that I would not have had access to before.