Author: Krishan Sharma

Science Vs. Art

Art and science are two fields which are very distant from some points of view, and very closely related from other points of view. When pursuing models for the world, people will always refer to science. This is simply because science uses exact mathematical models. Science leads to precise calculations based upon our understanding of the world and how accurate our models are. If our current model fails to explain an observed phenomenon, then the model will change and grow increasingly complex in order to incorporate all possible scenarios. If I throw a ball in the air at a 45 degree angle with a given initial velocity, science will tell me exactly how, when, and where that ball will land.

Art is interpretative; it allows the viewer to extract a range of meanings from any given work. When transitioning from science to art, precision is lost. Art is not exact, and when trying to describe and represent our world, people require exact and accurate models. If I threw a ball at an angle, art would tell me the ball will go up and fall down. It may tell me a range of things about the ball’s motion, but it would never tell me exactly where and how it will land like science can. Art, however, is truly useful for those aspects of the world that cannot be quantified: those items which we cannot use numbers to represent. Feelings, thoughts, emotions, ideas. “How sad are you feeling?” “Oh, today? I think I’d say I’m a 7.” People don’t use numbers for these aspects of life because it is impossible to do so. Art tries to explain and communicate the ideas and emotions of a person. Not a single mathematical theorem will ever be able to communicate sadness. Countless artworks today, however, are able to express this (and any given) emotion with just a single look. From this point of view, art also tries to explain the world just as science does. Art and science, however, simply try to explain different aspects of the world.

New York Philharmonic Review

Walking into the New York Philharmonic’s rehearsal, I suddenly had the feeling that I was at the wrong place. Why are there so many people here just for a rehearsal? After a few minutes a sitting down and listening to the performance, I realized the answer.

Featuring Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, the rehearsal also included Liszt’s Les Préludes, Symphonic Poem No. 3, and Elgar’s In the South. The music was exceptional, but the setting seemed odd. Rather than crisp suits and polished shoes, the musicians all appeared pedestrian. The audience members also appeared very informal. Rather than a formal music group, it just seemed as if a random assortment of people were picked from the street and asked to play onstage. Their music, however, separated them from the rest of us.

It is difficult to fathom encapsulating words to describe their performance: beautiful, majestic, mind-blowing. Individually, all of the performers seemed to be on task with the music. For example, the bows of all the performers for a given string section all rose and fell in synch with one another. When the sounds of each instrument came together to produce a gestalt, the true passion and emotions of each piece could truly be felt. From pianissimo to fortissimo and back again, the powerful crescendos made the music worthwhile. Having never heard any of these pieces before, I was filled with awe just listening to them.

It was also interesting to see Riccardo Muti serve as the conductor. His criticisms to the musicians themselves as well as his engaging of the audience kept everyone in the room alert and interested during the performance. My only complaint was the wooden chairs. Even with the amazing performance of the Philharmonic, it was difficult to sit on the chair comfortable for three hours. Even though it was just a rehearsal, seeing the New York Philharmonic perform was one of the best musical experiences I have ever had.

Meeting Dante Adela

What are some of the essential elements of dance? What makes dance so unique? What makes dance an art form? Incognizant of what dance truly meant, I was given the opportunity to peek inside the world of Dante Adela for three hours.  His discussions, life story, and demonstration of dance have all greatly impacted my current understanding of the topic.

His first exercise involved everyone forming a circle and then pretending we were in a shower, with the water suddenly turning cold. As most of the students tried to show this with their bodies, they ended up laughing. Adela explained that when dancing, you can’t be afraid of looking foolish; he helped show dance’s aspect of vulnerability. With the same exercise, he was able to demonstrate how the body can communicate emotions and thoughts without verbalization. Based on Adela’s body language, by viewing the transition of the water being warm in the shower to the water suddenly turning cold, everyone in the classroom was able view the body’s distress.

Hearing about Adela’s life story was also quite fascinating. Throughout his life, he studied and learned different dance styles, from break dancing to ballet. When he talked about dancing a specific form (ballet, for example), he stated that he tries to incorporate every dance form that he has individually learned into his movements. His dancing is the net result of all of the experiences of his life. Even his martial arts background has affected his dancing.

The video of his dance performance involving the woman was also very significant. Beautifully done, the video involved a drunken man being followed by a woman in white. What was most fascinating was that although everyone in the class had seen the same video, the interpretations were all slightly different. This showed that dance is able to communicate emotions and thoughts, but the exact interpretation is completely open to the viewer. Just one visit with Dante Adela has helped truly expose me to dance. An exceptional artist, he has now made me more open to further exploring and enjoying this intricate art form.

Julliard Jazz

Listening to Julliard Jazz was by far one of the liveliest experiences I have had in very long time. I have heard jazz music before but have never attended a live performance until now.

Improvisation is one of the essential elements of any jazz performance. With solos flying left and right from the ensemble, all of the improvisation pieces were superb. Just by looking at the musicians, you could easily tell that the music had truly swept them away off into another world. The music flowed through each musician and allowed them to play whatever came to mind, enabling the beautiful solos heard. With some musicians closing their eyes, tapping their feet, or snapping their fingers, they were all absorbed by the music, and the audience was brought along for the splendid ride. Each solo was unique and vibrant. Even Frank Wess, a frail, 87 year-old, had come to life when he played, especially during his solos. My favorite solos were from the pianist, who played with a strong rhythm that could easily be absorbed. Frank Wess’ solos were dazzling as well. Such emphasis is placed on these solos because they result solely from what the musician was feeling at that given moment during the performance. These improvisation solos make the performance heard at Julliard Jazz one-of-a-kind (literally).

The musicianship as a whole was also phenomenal. No mistakes were made during playing and everything seemed to be in perfect harmony. Even the song that Frank Wess had introduced to the ensemble, which was only rehearsed for two days, was phenomenal. Out of all the songs, my two favorites were “Tickle Toe,” and “Freckle Face.” Both of these songs had uplifting beats and were a pleasure to listen to. Brandon Lee, despite his young age, did a marvelous job of conducting this passionate group of musicians. The Julliard Jazz Ensemble was one of the best live groups I have ever had the pleasure of viewing. Count Basie would have been proud.

Beauty and Biology

Beauty is a fascinating attribute due to its relativity; something “beautiful” to an ape would certainly not be considered beautiful by a human being. Even amongst humans, the term beauty can differ: an object may be considered beautiful by one human being, but not the other. Beauty can be linked to attractiveness. Scientists believe that our attractiveness to one another originates as an evolutionary predisposition to be attracted to those who are most able to produce healthy offspring. Common “attractive features,” such as a muscular body for a man, indicates healthiness and the ability to produce offspring, making women biologically attracted to this feature. Common “unattractive features,” such as large amounts of acne or skin lesions, place the individual’s health into question and cause people to not be attracted to these features.

A common psychological study dealing with beauty usually involves pictures of many different women shown to men (or vice versa). The men are then asked to determine which female in the pictures is the most beautiful. One of the pictures, however, will be a computer-generated woman consisting of the “average features” of all the other women. In other words, the computer will superimpose all the faces of the women and produce a composite photo of a female with the average traits of all the other women. The men will almost always pick this computer-generated photo for being the most attractive, proving that we find normality to be most appealing.

Beauty affects our judgment, although we may not realize it. Subconsciously, we feel more comfortable around “beautiful” people/objects and have a greater disposition to liking them more than “ugly” people/objects. We are essentially hard-wired to both reproduce and find the best suitable environment for ourselves. Because of this, a beautiful person or piece or artwork will instantly affect our judgment towards that person or artwork. Obviously, however, exceptions do exist, with people finding someone with “unattractive” traits to be beautiful and “ugly” pieces of artwork to be amazing. The trends described in this essay, however, refer to the majority of judgments made by people toward other humans and artwork based on their physical appearance.

Punk Rock at the MoMA

The punk rock era captured the true spirit of anti-establishment and rebellion. Although I wasn’t sure of what to completely expect, I could have almost been certain that such a museum display would capture the true rebellious and exciting essence of this period.

Walking into the exhibit, I was greeted by mostly mundane pieces: televisions playing music videos, newspaper clippings, and headphones playing the songs of famous punk rock artists. I can experience all of these from the comfort of my own home. Very few of the displayed items were actually unique. One of the most disappointing features of the exhibit, however, was the lack of actual punk rock artwork. Punk rock is not just a music genre; it is an artistic movement. There are many of us today who are well aware of punk rock artists and their music, but few of us, including myself, know about punk rock as an art movement. Although the exhibit did feature several of Jenny Holzer’s works as well as “The Game” video of the rocks, the display fell short of providing more anti-establishment art work that originated from the era of garage bands.

The display itself was also flawed; for an era of anti-establishment, the highly ordered structure of this exhibit seemed to be ironic. Not a single rebellious emotion could be evoked by the seemingly tidy and structured display. The exhibit was also extremely short, composed of a laconic sampling of several punk rock artists and only a handful of other punk rock-related pieces. Punk rock, however, was an extremely influential era, whose effects are still being felt today on the artistic (especially musical) world. A more extensive display of this exhibit is necessary to truly capture its beauty.

Luckily, this display had a few upsides. Although there were only a relatively small number of punk rock artists who were sampled, the exhibit managed to collect some of the most critical and influential musical artists of all time. From Television, The Voidoids, Laurie Anderson, Beth B, Patti Smith, and Blondie, I was impressed by the great collection of artists that were chosen to be sampled.  Overall, although there were a few upsides, the punk rock exhibit at the MoMA failed to live up to expectations.

Truth in Art

“Sometimes lies are more dependable than the truth.” – Orson Scott Card

A true artist utilizes lying to communicate truth. The debate on feeling “truth” when viewing a work of art is an argument on the means to achieving a goal. What is the goal of an artist? An artist must express an emotion, an idea, a thought, etc. using a medium of their preference. For example, imagine a war veteran giving an anecdote to an audience on the first time he was required use a firearm. His goal is to simulate and evoke the emotions he felt during that moment of his life. Yes, it is possible for the man to describe the past event as it actually happened and to tell “the truth.” But sometimes, this truth isn’t good enough. If he were to describe the event as it actually happened, he would fail to make the audience feel the same emotions that he once experienced. Therefore, he exaggerates many aspects of his story when talking to the audience. He might even make up a few aspects of the story altogether. He lies in order to effectively communicate his emotions to the audience; he “lies” to tell “the truth.”

Thus, what is truth? Is it the image of fading sunlight over a river seen in a painting? Or is it the raw emotion that the artist wanted to communicate to the viewer? Perhaps the artist saw a waterfall and felt that the emotions would be better translated to the viewer if he had painted a sunset instead. Indeed, the artist would be lying, but he would also be telling the truth. I believe that whenever I view a piece of art, indeed, I am seeing a lie. But when I view the artwork and am able to conjure the same emotion that the artist intended me to feel, I am feeling the truth.

Is Dance a Language?

Instead of writing actual words, I have decided to express my response in the form of dance:

Please stand up, raise one of arms, slowly bob your head, and then shift your weight constantly between both your feet.

Clearly, there are distinctions to be made when discussing dance as a language. This inquiry, however, is dependent upon how one would define both “language” and “dance,” proving that the answer to this question is relative.

Modern dictionaries contain a myriad of definitions for what “language” really is. The irrefutable intrinsic quality of language, however, is the means of communication. The “heart” of language lies in its ability to communicate an idea, thought, or emotion. Thus, going by this definition, dance can easily be a form of language. Dance is normally thought to simply be composed of various movements in accord to some type of music or rhythmic beat. In a much broader sense, however, dance can be thought of the body’s way of communicating. As displayed by Dante Adela last week, dance can communicate both ideas and emotions. From observing the body’s motions after the “cold shower” exercise, the viewer was able to sense the disturbance brought on by the cold water simply from the way Adela moved; he did not incorporate any sounds or words.

It is important to note that when seen in the context of a language, dance is often very generalized. Yes, it is sometimes possible to see definitive emotions expressed through specific dance movements, such as when Adela expressed discomfort in the shower example. Dance, however, mostly serves as an interpretative means of communication rather than a definitive one. The video regarding the dance between Adela and the woman, for example, was interpreted in a variety of ways by the members of the class. The message extracted while watching the same dance performance can vary amongst members of the audience and depends almost entirely on the viewer. Some dance, however, can be extremely specific in terms of communication. If dance is only defined loosely as “bodily movements,” then sign language may also be rendered a type of “dance.” Another specific type of dance is employed by Western bees. Performing the infamous “waggle dance,” these bees can actually communicate to each other about nearby food sources by dancing.

When going by strict definitions, it would appear as though dance is not a language. But when reason transcends these definitions, I believe that dance is indeed a language because of its inherent ability to communicate emotions and ideas as described above.

Krishan Sharma

Le Nozze di Figaro Review

At eight o’clock sharp the audience was instantly greeted by a blitz of harmonious frequencies and tones emitted by the orchestra; as the all-too-familiar sounds of the infamous Mozartian overture perforated the theater, the audience was given a morsel of the amazing performance to come. Stunned with nearly every aspect of the opera, I can fairly say that Le Nozze de Figaro at the Metropolitan Opera House was one of the best performances I have ever had the pleasure of viewing.

A gift bequeathed from the 18th century, Figaro exemplifies the commonality of the mankind. An opera written over two hundred years ago performed in a foreign language still attracted hundreds. The opera’s ardor, themes of jealousy and adultery, and even humor were effectively communicated to the audience, despite the apparent language and time barriers.

The true genius of the opera, however, lied in the vocals. Unaccustomed to the sheer power experienced by vocal opera, I was truly “wowed” by this performance. Several times throughout the opera I had to remind myself that the sounds I was hearing were actually being emitted from a human being. All of the performers communicated a gamut of tones and pitches I would never have dreamed. In particular, John Relyea playing as Figaro caught my attention. The distinguished bass of the performance, Relyea was able to emit a sound whose zeal could be felt almost instantaneously.

Only a meager review, however, would discuss an opera’s vocals without drawing attention to the orchestra. The score was unparalleled to any of which I’ve heard. Beautifully enhancing the vocals, the orchestra was able to create a dynamic relationship with the singers; both aspects complimented each other and were synchronized throughout the opera, most notably at the recurring crescendos during the dramatic scenes of the opera. After listening to the score a second time, it’s fascinating to see how the music mirrors the world it depicts; although the score may initially seem to be of elegance and beauty, a sharper ear can trace elements of discord and deception. The wedding march in Act III for example, initially gives the impression of formality and gracefulness. The trembling chords at the end of each phrase, however, communicate to the audience that something is astray. The opera may have been over three hours long, but because of the orchestra and vocals, I almost wished it had been longer.

Psychological perception is never based upon the sum of reactions to individual entities, but rather to the gestalt experienced by the observer. Thus, a true review of my viewing of Figaro would be incomplete without mentioning how the Metropolitan Opera House amazed me. From the lighted water fountain to the enormous glass panes that compose the entire front side, the opera house was truly a feast for the eyes. The set design for the opera was equally ravishing, with the creation of lifelike sceneries and lightning. There was fine attention brought to virtually every detail of the set, from the upholsteries to the marble walls. The lightning was superb, with both the night and sunshine being lifelike. I personally loved the subtitle display box, particularly because a given display was only visible to the person directly in front of it and not to the other people sitting next to him. Upon looking this up, I learned that the words on the subtitle display were actually composed of LED pixels, or tiny “lighted dots.” Each of these dots had a narrow tube in front of them, with one end of the tube faced at the lighted pixel, and the other end of the tube facing directly forward. Thus, a viewer can only see the LED pixels (and thus the entire display) by being directly in front of the display; anyone to the sides would not be able to see it due to the tubes blocking the light.

Le Nozze de Figaro was an amazing experience that has helped expose me to the world of opera.

Krishan Sharma