Siding on the Sidelines

    "And we are living in a society where people are not happy with their everyday lives."
     I don't want to contribute to the muck; I don't want to contribute to the lies, the stories and the tales that make people unhappy with their everyday lives. I don't want to take sides.
     It's instances like these when I begin to realize that yes, there are two sides to every story, but it doesn't mean that either of them are true. Both are contrived, twisted and tailored to match the needs of the story teller. This even stumps the audience: the third side.
     "Fires in the Mirror: Crown Heights, Brooklyn and Other Identities" by Anna Deavere Smith follows the true points of views of several black and Islamic residents in Crown Heights during the riots of 1991. This play is in the form of a series of interviews set up as monologues. The story itself is cut and dry: an Hasidic man accidentally hits a young African-American child with his car. This then is the trigger for riots, outbursts and the incident is then used as a reason to justify acts of violence unto the other race.
     The other night, I was able to see a live performance of the play in a black box. The only times I had ever gone to see a play was when the performers were strictly bound to a stage. Being able to have the actors directly interact with the audience was a new and interesting concept for me. While the execution of this play was nearly flawless, I did have some qualms with it. Like the two distinct sides presented in the play, I thought it would be appropriate to examine this play in two distinct sides: the positives and the negatives.


·      I could feel the animosity when he threw props in my direction.

·      I could see the pain she felt when she looked directly at me.

·      I could hear his compassion when he yelled at an audience member.

·      The costumes took me back 20 years.

·      The dialects were well achieved by the actors.

·      I felt like a part of Crown Heights: a member of the community.

·      An intermission was needed.

·      I found myself losing interest at times.

·      Some of the monologues could not hold my attention.

·      There was no third-party opinion to balance out the feuding sides.

·      There was never an absolute resolution at the end of the play, although the director toyed with a possible solution that didn’t necessarily correlate with the dialogue.

   

     If you were to examine each of these bulleted points individually and out of context, you might find yourself taking sides. For example, if you were to only read the negative review, you would probably avoid the play. Likewise if you only read the positive review, you'd most likely be disappointed because of how much you'd expect of the play. Both of these lists represent a one-sided argument. There is no middle ground and no balance.
     Just like the blacks and the jews of Crown Heights.
     It's difficult to pick a side when only given one half of the whole picture. But when you can examine and synthesize both sides — like reading both the positive and negative lists and hearing words from both races in Brooklyn — you can form a more well-rounded opinion on the matter. That's why I loved "Fires in the Mirror" so much: There was the perfect balance of both sides. This balance helped me pick a side.
     The side that allows people to be happy with their everyday lives: no side at all.

MusiCANs' Importance

            Music hath contain history. 'Tis the pinnacle of representation; thine world hath been encased within such notes. Methinks such a concept is often overlooked.

            How can we show culture to the world? Andrew Ford displayed these feelings and worries in an article for Inside Story. “The arts in general are how we explain ourselves to each other and to future generations,” he explains in his story and I can’t help but full-heartedly agree. How can we show the development of society, its values and its place during a given time period? It’s difficult to portray passion and emotions in a more concrete manner through writing and/or hard facts. Sure, everything is poured onto a paper in a, presumably, poetic way, but can the reader truly understand a feeling or a mood? Punctuation and diction can only go so far.

            For instance, I could write a message to a friend saying, “I obviously fell in love with him instantly.”  Does the “obviously” denote a sense of reassurance, or a sense of sarcasm? Does this mean that I’m infatuated with someone? Does this mean I’m mocking his potential cocky personality? My friend won’t know unless she hears from me directly.

            Key word: “hears.”

            Music not only combines the art of poetry but also the art of writing. Put together, perhaps the clearest image of any thought can be conveyed. It is for this reason that music is such a wonderful representation of history.

            Can you name the presidents of each decade? Probably not, but I’m sure you can list the popular styles of music.

            '20s and '30s: Jazz.

            '40s and '50s: Swing; show tunes.

            '60s: Classic rock

            '70s: Disco

            '80s: Hard rock

            '90s and 00s: Pop; boy bands

            Music is a way of keeping in touch with the past, be it factually or emotionally. This notion of “keeping in touch” with the past only reminds me of Joan Didion’s non-fiction piece "Slouching Towards Bethlehem." In one chapter, she talks about the importance of keeping a notebook. “It all comes back,” she writes. “Perhaps it is difficult to see the value in having one’s self back in that kind of mood, but I do see it; I think we are well advised to keep nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not … It is a good idea, then, to keep in touch.”

            Keeping in touch. Remembering the past and working toward the future. This is what music has taught us over the years. Simple melodies and harmonies will always have a way of finding a poignant moment in history or in our lives. The mood of the lyrics and the instrumentals is far too difficult to ignore. It’s our job to keep in touch with the past, and anyone can do so with the art of music and “… plug in to a form of philosophical discourse.”

Fragmentation Recreation

“I forget everything and behave like a madman.” 

            Until somebody walks into the realm of my madness. Then the illusion is shattered, broken, and only restorable through fragments. Fragments of. Words and. Ideas and. Emotions.

            Through a series of letters to friends, composer Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky tells his ideas behind creativity and the process surrounding it. Throughout these letters, he focuses on the world people enter whilst creating anything. Waiting for bouts of inspiration is equivalent to waiting for the rain in a season of drought to water the garden. Being interrupted while working helps piece together different worlds of creativity. Nothing is seamless and everything is stitched without the help of a perfect machine.

            While reading this piece, I couldn’t help but glance back to my writing notebook that I’ve been keeping since I was 14. Glancing through pages and looking over the messy pre-writes: highlighted phrases in colors of green, orange and pink; red ink dabbled next to the black words; green arrows connecting ideas.

            Until I got something that resembled prose.

            Until stanzas tumbled down the page.

            Until sentences were no longer

            Sentences but rather

            A rhythm and a

            Feeling.

            But it never came all at once: it was over several hours of work, tweaking, revisiting, editing, deriving and critiquing. “The parts appear as a completely welded hole,” Tchaikovsky wrote. They appear welded in the most methodic and beautiful sense of the word: a completed and a touched up work of art.

            I never truly understood that artists were supposed to go through this kind of process. I always had this contrived image that someone who creates knows exactly what they want and how to properly execute it.

            But what if their ideas change? What if the artist CHAnges halfway through their creation? What if he/she is interrupted by other thoughts and events?

            What of their work then?

            It’s the job of the artist to meld these notions together. Working with the obstacles and the challenges only adds to the piece in the end.

            Being a madman. Helps to. Restore those.

            Matted

                        Fragments.

                                    And pieces of

                                                Life

                                                            Into something

            Beautiful.