So we finally get to the site, and it is basically a fence around an open field with one massive permanent stage, several mobile stages and tons of booths selling band merchandise and concessions. Oh, and a skate ramp for pro skaters to do tricks on, but that is irrelevant to this story. While waiting to get into the park, I get to do some people watching, and I learned quickly the adhesive magic egg whites perform on hair.
A quick note on the set up of the main stage. In order to keep the show on schedule, the stage was split in the middle by a giant stack of amps. one half of the stage was always being set for the next group while the current band played on the other half. It ran like clockwork.
When we finally get in, my buddy and I head straight to the main stage. It's 11:15 am and the 1st band is almost done with their set. The first thing I notice is that punk music is supposed to be listened to live. I forget the name of the band, but I remember being surprised at the energy they brought to the stage, especially before noon. The next band up I do remember. It was a female fronted band called Tsunami Bomb, and they were pretty great. Since it was early, I got all the way to the front row and got to shake hands with the lead singer. It marked the first and only time I've had a crush on a musician. She was crazy cute with funky pink highlighted hair, and she gave off a very energetic and positive vibe.
So after the lovely lady punk finished, My attention was drawn to the left hand stage where a band of filthy men in dirty white t-shirts was ready to play. This would be Andrew W.K. If you don't know what Andrew W.K. sounds like, picture the happiest music you've ever heard channeled through metal guitars and sung by a demon. It was the musical equivalent of adding habanero pepper to dark chocolate, but in a good way. It was also my introduction to the mosh pit. While Andrew jumped around the stage dancing like a lunatic and telling everyone how much he loved them, I jumped around like a lunatic in the gentlest mosh pit ever. The nice mid-western punks kids made a circle (like you do) and we all jumped around inside, crashing into each other as politely as possible. It also may have been that it was just now noon, and most of the crowd was still waking up. If anyone ever fell down, three people grabbed them and pulled them up so the party could continue. My day was already turning out much differently than I had thought. These were not a bunch of anoying losers listening to crappy music. These were a bunch of nice, cool kids (for the most part) dancing to high energy, positive punk rock.
Up next were the Mad Caddies, a fantastic ska-punk band with a burly lead singer parading around stage slapping his belly (it was more fun than it sounds, I promise)
About halfway through their set, I realized we were being invaded by an army. I turned around to see a sea of Black and Green, with huge banners held high. Who could be playing next that inspired such rabid devotion? I looked at the big board with the list of bands, somebody called the Dropkick Murphys was up next. What was this all about?
It turns out that the Dropkick Murphys are a high octane Irish punk band from Boston, and holy crap do they put on a show. The experience of watching this band play in front of their fans is kind of like being in the coolest cement mixer ever.
Up next was a band named Thrice, but I can't tell you how they were though because after two plus hours in front of the middle stack of speakers, I could no longer differentiate sounds. So after the set, it was time to take a break and refuel.
On a side note, punk fans do not always bathe, and this can be a problem when you stand in the sun on a giant concrete slab in July with a few thousand of them. Thankfully, the security crew did something amazing. They hosed down the crowd. Nothing makes you forget the fat sweaty guy rubbing against you like a shot of water hose to the face.
After a couple hours of food eating and CD buying, it was time to get back to the main stage to see this AFI band I'd heard so much about. As the band before them started their set, the once blue sky had gotten quite cloudy, so the crew set about covering all amps in plastic and waterproofing the stage. The band before AFI finishes, and the sky has gotten scary dark. Then I see this band of guys dressed in black with black hair and black eye makeup and pasty white skin come out on stage. They start to play their first song, a slow, doomy intro song, that increases to a fantastic creshendo. The crowd has become a sea of kids in black screaming as loud as I ever ever heard. The tension builds and builds until Davey Havok, the lead singer walks out onstage looking like Alice Cooper's bastard child. The band hits a monster cord has Davey jumps in the air like David Lee Roth, and, as if on cue, the skies open up and pour down upon us. The crowd and the band are like a single, seething entity screaming as one. The rain pounds the sweltering concrete and sweaty crowd and causes a fog of steam to rise above our heads as Davey walks into the audience, held up by his rabid fans, and shows everybody what a real rock star looks like. My little mind is officially blown. I am shrieking and singing words to a song I don't even know. Once the set is done, everyone is screaming so long they have to wait for the poor schlubs who have to follow them. The rain stops before the next band starts and the sky is sunny by the time the Ataris start playing after them.
Although it was still early in the evening, AFI had wiped us out and it was time to go home. But was a day I'll never forget.
I think that's quite enough for now, Up next: how curling caused me to stop writing in my blog.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Great Concert Memories - My 1st concert - part I
In keeping with the non-theme of my blog, I'm gonna talk about something new today. I want to talk about my 1st concert memory.
This isn't strictly speaking, the 1st concert I ever saw. I'd seen Herman's Hermits and Gladys Knight with the Temptations at the State Fair growing up. What I want to talk about is the 1st concert I ever went to with just friends, and no family along for the ride. So what was my first big concert experience? It was the 2002 Van's Warped Tour at Flo-Rite Park just outside of the Twin Cities.
A little context: this was the summer between my junior and senior year of high school. I was a band, choir, and theatre geek who had never been very adventurous. I did not drink at all in high school, I never missed curfew, my first car wreck occurred in a mini van at under 25mph, and I had a paralyzing fear of girls. I was the antithesis of punk. So when my best friend asked if I wanted to go to the Warped Tour, it was more out of musical curiosity than anything else. (the fact that we'd be riding with two girls I may or may not have had a crush on at the time had nothing to do with it)
I hated punk music too. Or, to be accurate, I hated punk music as I understood it. I was raised on classic rock, grew up with 90's alternative pop, and was in the middle of a serious nu-metal phase. The concert I would have picked included Staind, Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, and Metallica. To me, punk was what whimpy skateboarders listened too and contained prepubescent vocals over poorly played instruments. (That's right, the future swim team captain questioned the toughness of skateboarders) The focus of my hatred of punk was a band called AFI. Now, I'd never heard anything AFI had ever done, but the kid in the trumpet section in band who I thought was a bit of a tool happened to wear an AFI sweatshirt rather frequently, so AFI sucked by association.
Despite my feelings about Punk, I decided to go. I'd get to spend the day road tripping with friends and I finally get to see a band formed after the 1960s. Also, the worst band in the world would beat a summer day pushing carts in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I don't recall much of the ride there. Growing up in far northern Wisconsin, it's a very long drive to anywhere worth while to a teenager, so we left around dawn, and I vaguely recall Burger King cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I got to hear some of the bands we'd be seeing that day, including AFI. I was a little surprised that they didn't sound too bad. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad, but I still had my doubts.
part II coming soon!
This isn't strictly speaking, the 1st concert I ever saw. I'd seen Herman's Hermits and Gladys Knight with the Temptations at the State Fair growing up. What I want to talk about is the 1st concert I ever went to with just friends, and no family along for the ride. So what was my first big concert experience? It was the 2002 Van's Warped Tour at Flo-Rite Park just outside of the Twin Cities.
A little context: this was the summer between my junior and senior year of high school. I was a band, choir, and theatre geek who had never been very adventurous. I did not drink at all in high school, I never missed curfew, my first car wreck occurred in a mini van at under 25mph, and I had a paralyzing fear of girls. I was the antithesis of punk. So when my best friend asked if I wanted to go to the Warped Tour, it was more out of musical curiosity than anything else. (the fact that we'd be riding with two girls I may or may not have had a crush on at the time had nothing to do with it)
I hated punk music too. Or, to be accurate, I hated punk music as I understood it. I was raised on classic rock, grew up with 90's alternative pop, and was in the middle of a serious nu-metal phase. The concert I would have picked included Staind, Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, and Metallica. To me, punk was what whimpy skateboarders listened too and contained prepubescent vocals over poorly played instruments. (That's right, the future swim team captain questioned the toughness of skateboarders) The focus of my hatred of punk was a band called AFI. Now, I'd never heard anything AFI had ever done, but the kid in the trumpet section in band who I thought was a bit of a tool happened to wear an AFI sweatshirt rather frequently, so AFI sucked by association.
Despite my feelings about Punk, I decided to go. I'd get to spend the day road tripping with friends and I finally get to see a band formed after the 1960s. Also, the worst band in the world would beat a summer day pushing carts in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I don't recall much of the ride there. Growing up in far northern Wisconsin, it's a very long drive to anywhere worth while to a teenager, so we left around dawn, and I vaguely recall Burger King cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I got to hear some of the bands we'd be seeing that day, including AFI. I was a little surprised that they didn't sound too bad. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad, but I still had my doubts.
part II coming soon!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Wolfman review
Ok, certain readers have been whining about not having enough to read, so I hope to gorge you all over the next several days. First up, my review of the Wolfman:
3.5/5 stars
The Good - The Wolfman embraces an old school storytelling style that makes this movie feel like a 1930s script filmed today, and I do mean that in a good way.
The Bad - Movie was delayed and reworked a lot, and the plotting suffers for it
The Ugly - Dumbest set up for a sequel ever!
Longer Take - The new Wolfman movie featuring Benicio Del Toro and Anthony Hopkins is a fun night at the movies. Anthony Hopkins deserves a lot of praise for his most entertaining performance since Silence of the Lambs. His almost casual chewing of the scenery is a complete joy to watch. Credit should also go out to Hugo Weaving for being the first intelligent police office I have ever seen in a horror movie. Before seeing the wolfman in person, Hugo Weaving's character does what you'd hope a policeman would: he asks questions and follows the laws he's supposed to protect. This includes defending suspects from a growing mob threat. Once the threat has been experienced, he also does what you would do, namely, get all the officers you can with a crapload of guns to solve the problem, but blowing it to pieces. Benicio Del Toro enunciates in this movie, which makes it one of his better performances, but his accent is so painfully not British or standard American that it is not a little distracting. Emily Blunt is very pretty and she's in the movie too. Her character is more or less a plot device so there's not much else to say about that.
What Really made this movie enjoyable though was not the cast, but the setting and style of the film. I felt like I was watching a film from the 30s or 40s with up to date camera work and CGI. The story contains certain tropes that give you an old timey feel: there is the mysterious old mansion, a legend of a supernatural beast, the simple minded townsfolk fear the magical gypsys, and the owner of the old mansion has a non-white manservant who knows something about monsters. Unlike the disaster that was VAN HELSING, this movie is staunchly old-fashioned and never tries to be "hip" or "modern." everything feels old and comfortable. The CGI is not great, but not terrible, and the Wolfman creature is an extremely faithful design that I quite liked. The only thing apart from the effects that updates this movie is the gore, and there are buckets of blood to go around! The most successful part of the movie happens before we get a good look at the creature. We get lots of violence and gore but only a glimpse of the monster. It reminded me of why movies like JAWS are so successful, there is something so much more terrifying about a creature you can't see. The Wolfman could have benefited from continuing this "less is more" approach, but it does do a nice job overall.
The last thing I want to talk about is what this movie does to differentiate itself from the current crop of werewolf and vampire movies, books, and TV shows. There are only two werewolves in the movie, and the movie shows how brutal and tragic it is too be one. Because there is a small number of monsters, each one gets to be as brutal as possible. You ever notice how a vampire or a werewolf's power seems to diminish has the number of them grows. You have to balance the power in order to tell a compelling story and that is why you get relatively weak monsters in the True Blood, Underworld, or Buffy universes. Oh sure, they may have some powers, but there are always other monsters to balance that power and make it seem weaker. Not here. When you only have one (or two), the brutality quotient goes up. Also, there's nothing sexy about being a werewolf. Sorry girls, no hairless man boys who instantly transform into pretty dogs, You get hairy, middle aged men horribly contorting into ugly man-wolf hybrids who rip off limbs, slash throats, and spill guts like it's going out of style. And that should make any horror movie lover happy.
3.5/5 stars
The Good - The Wolfman embraces an old school storytelling style that makes this movie feel like a 1930s script filmed today, and I do mean that in a good way.
The Bad - Movie was delayed and reworked a lot, and the plotting suffers for it
The Ugly - Dumbest set up for a sequel ever!
Longer Take - The new Wolfman movie featuring Benicio Del Toro and Anthony Hopkins is a fun night at the movies. Anthony Hopkins deserves a lot of praise for his most entertaining performance since Silence of the Lambs. His almost casual chewing of the scenery is a complete joy to watch. Credit should also go out to Hugo Weaving for being the first intelligent police office I have ever seen in a horror movie. Before seeing the wolfman in person, Hugo Weaving's character does what you'd hope a policeman would: he asks questions and follows the laws he's supposed to protect. This includes defending suspects from a growing mob threat. Once the threat has been experienced, he also does what you would do, namely, get all the officers you can with a crapload of guns to solve the problem, but blowing it to pieces. Benicio Del Toro enunciates in this movie, which makes it one of his better performances, but his accent is so painfully not British or standard American that it is not a little distracting. Emily Blunt is very pretty and she's in the movie too. Her character is more or less a plot device so there's not much else to say about that.
What Really made this movie enjoyable though was not the cast, but the setting and style of the film. I felt like I was watching a film from the 30s or 40s with up to date camera work and CGI. The story contains certain tropes that give you an old timey feel: there is the mysterious old mansion, a legend of a supernatural beast, the simple minded townsfolk fear the magical gypsys, and the owner of the old mansion has a non-white manservant who knows something about monsters. Unlike the disaster that was VAN HELSING, this movie is staunchly old-fashioned and never tries to be "hip" or "modern." everything feels old and comfortable. The CGI is not great, but not terrible, and the Wolfman creature is an extremely faithful design that I quite liked. The only thing apart from the effects that updates this movie is the gore, and there are buckets of blood to go around! The most successful part of the movie happens before we get a good look at the creature. We get lots of violence and gore but only a glimpse of the monster. It reminded me of why movies like JAWS are so successful, there is something so much more terrifying about a creature you can't see. The Wolfman could have benefited from continuing this "less is more" approach, but it does do a nice job overall.
The last thing I want to talk about is what this movie does to differentiate itself from the current crop of werewolf and vampire movies, books, and TV shows. There are only two werewolves in the movie, and the movie shows how brutal and tragic it is too be one. Because there is a small number of monsters, each one gets to be as brutal as possible. You ever notice how a vampire or a werewolf's power seems to diminish has the number of them grows. You have to balance the power in order to tell a compelling story and that is why you get relatively weak monsters in the True Blood, Underworld, or Buffy universes. Oh sure, they may have some powers, but there are always other monsters to balance that power and make it seem weaker. Not here. When you only have one (or two), the brutality quotient goes up. Also, there's nothing sexy about being a werewolf. Sorry girls, no hairless man boys who instantly transform into pretty dogs, You get hairy, middle aged men horribly contorting into ugly man-wolf hybrids who rip off limbs, slash throats, and spill guts like it's going out of style. And that should make any horror movie lover happy.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Nerd alert! Why star trek is the worst/best movie of 2009
Ok, it's been a few days and I am feeling a little guilty about my lack of productivity. Rest assured dear readers, my absence as been due to an ongoing search for gainful employment, and not due to a lack of desire to dazzle you with my random articles about stuff I want to talk about. (so far, being witty and awesome does not pay bills) Oh, and I was watching the Super Bowl last Sunday. Yay Saints!
Anyway, in my spare time, I have been thinking, and I have come to a conclusion; the JJ Abrams Star Trek movie is the worst/best movie of the year. When I say best, I mean I saw it in the theatre 3 times, and I had a blast. Growing up, I had seen all the old star trek movies, but I had never watched any of the shows. When an older sibling likes something, it's easy to write it off as "lame" in order to establish your own identity. But the new Star Trek got me so excited that I began to borrow several of the series' from friends or the public library. After 2 and half seasons of Star Trek: the Next Generation, and about 3 seasons of Star Trek: Deep Space 9, I have to conclude that the shows contain far superior story telling than the movie.
Now I have by no means become a trekkie (yet). The old shows do seem painfully dated at times and can fall into low points that make you cringe. But what the old shows lack in special effects, they make up for in creating a far more interesting world than the black and white future in JJ Abrams shiny new Trek. One of the complaints many people apparently had with the shows was that there was a lack of action and an excess of plot. While this is occasionally true, more often than not, the two series I've mentioned contain a rather thrilling amount of danger and intrigue. What the tv series' lack in production values, they make up for in following one simple rule, explosions and action sequences do not equal a compelling narrative. With a vision of the future based on diplomacy and politics, the threat of war always looms large. Peace is something to constantly maintain, something to fight for, and never a given. Because the shows focus on character and the struggle not to fight, they are far more compelling in the long run than a future of shoot first, plot later. The threat of extreme action should build tension, but the viewer should ultimately hope against all out war. We want see our heroes succeed with words rather than bombs. JJ Abrams wanted a vision of Star Trek where the promise of action was fulfilled, and, upon reflection, I find this approach tacky. It's easy to create drama by blowing up something, it is far harder and more rewarding to maintain the promise of destruction with the hope of resolution. To Create a world where diplomatic solutions are not possible or laughed at is a counter to everything Star Trek seems to represent.
My favorite Original Cast movie hands down was Star Trek VI: the Undiscovered Country. As a cold war allegory, you have the crew struggling to preserve a fragile peace between two hostile empires. Ultimately, the conspirators are found and diplomacy prevails. The plot is intriguing and exciting without a snow monster chase. In the new Trek we have bad guy on killing spree, so let's kill him back. It's two dimensional and much less rewarding in the long run.
With the new Start Trek, you get a very well done summer movie, with a great ensemble cast, and I think it fits in fairly well with the universe of the original Cast films. But it is a shame that the film has abandoned the subtlety that made the series so memorable in the first place. Perhaps this will be addressed in the sequels, but as long as they are written by the two buffoons responsible for Transformers 2, I doubt they possess the maturity to tell a better story that is more exciting than the first film and contains fewer action set pieces.
What has me so ambivalent about the new Star Trek is that it did what it set out to do, which is to bring new fans into the Star Trek universe (myself being a prime example). But now that I am discovering the old shows, I feel like someone promised my candy and slipped me steak dinner instead. I'm grateful for the steak, but suddenly the candy that looked so good pales in comparison. I will continue to struggle with my feelings about the movie as I own it on blu-ray and it's still quite fun to watch, but I will always begrudge it a little for trying to make Star Trek into Star Wars. Given the choice of which galaxy I prefer, I'll choose the one without Jar Jar Binks every time. That's enough nerd rant for now, I'll try to do better next time.
Anyway, in my spare time, I have been thinking, and I have come to a conclusion; the JJ Abrams Star Trek movie is the worst/best movie of the year. When I say best, I mean I saw it in the theatre 3 times, and I had a blast. Growing up, I had seen all the old star trek movies, but I had never watched any of the shows. When an older sibling likes something, it's easy to write it off as "lame" in order to establish your own identity. But the new Star Trek got me so excited that I began to borrow several of the series' from friends or the public library. After 2 and half seasons of Star Trek: the Next Generation, and about 3 seasons of Star Trek: Deep Space 9, I have to conclude that the shows contain far superior story telling than the movie.
Now I have by no means become a trekkie (yet). The old shows do seem painfully dated at times and can fall into low points that make you cringe. But what the old shows lack in special effects, they make up for in creating a far more interesting world than the black and white future in JJ Abrams shiny new Trek. One of the complaints many people apparently had with the shows was that there was a lack of action and an excess of plot. While this is occasionally true, more often than not, the two series I've mentioned contain a rather thrilling amount of danger and intrigue. What the tv series' lack in production values, they make up for in following one simple rule, explosions and action sequences do not equal a compelling narrative. With a vision of the future based on diplomacy and politics, the threat of war always looms large. Peace is something to constantly maintain, something to fight for, and never a given. Because the shows focus on character and the struggle not to fight, they are far more compelling in the long run than a future of shoot first, plot later. The threat of extreme action should build tension, but the viewer should ultimately hope against all out war. We want see our heroes succeed with words rather than bombs. JJ Abrams wanted a vision of Star Trek where the promise of action was fulfilled, and, upon reflection, I find this approach tacky. It's easy to create drama by blowing up something, it is far harder and more rewarding to maintain the promise of destruction with the hope of resolution. To Create a world where diplomatic solutions are not possible or laughed at is a counter to everything Star Trek seems to represent.
My favorite Original Cast movie hands down was Star Trek VI: the Undiscovered Country. As a cold war allegory, you have the crew struggling to preserve a fragile peace between two hostile empires. Ultimately, the conspirators are found and diplomacy prevails. The plot is intriguing and exciting without a snow monster chase. In the new Trek we have bad guy on killing spree, so let's kill him back. It's two dimensional and much less rewarding in the long run.
With the new Start Trek, you get a very well done summer movie, with a great ensemble cast, and I think it fits in fairly well with the universe of the original Cast films. But it is a shame that the film has abandoned the subtlety that made the series so memorable in the first place. Perhaps this will be addressed in the sequels, but as long as they are written by the two buffoons responsible for Transformers 2, I doubt they possess the maturity to tell a better story that is more exciting than the first film and contains fewer action set pieces.
What has me so ambivalent about the new Star Trek is that it did what it set out to do, which is to bring new fans into the Star Trek universe (myself being a prime example). But now that I am discovering the old shows, I feel like someone promised my candy and slipped me steak dinner instead. I'm grateful for the steak, but suddenly the candy that looked so good pales in comparison. I will continue to struggle with my feelings about the movie as I own it on blu-ray and it's still quite fun to watch, but I will always begrudge it a little for trying to make Star Trek into Star Wars. Given the choice of which galaxy I prefer, I'll choose the one without Jar Jar Binks every time. That's enough nerd rant for now, I'll try to do better next time.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Overreact much? My thoughts on the Lindsey Vonn SI cover
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/ronjuddsolympicsinsider/2010963997_lindsey_vonn_si_poster_girl.html
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/cover/featured/9313/index.htm
The above two links show two different SI Winter Olympics themed covers. The 1st will take you to this years cover showing Lindsey Vonn, the 2nd is a 1992 cover featuring A.J. Kitt. Guess which one people are upset about? Normally I don't like to talk about these supposed controversies, I find them silly and a waste of time. But this one really bothered me, and since I now have a blog, I thought I'd say my piece.
So Let's talk about the Lindsey Vonn picture. It is a shot of her, in full ski equipment, minus a helmet, looking at the camera and smiling while in her skiing pose. That's it. Yes, she is clearly in a photo shoot and not actually skiing downhill. What seems to bother people is that somehow, Ms. Vonn is being objectified in this picture. Why, because she's wearing makeup and has had her hair done for a publicity photo? This is not an objectification of anybody, this is a photo shoot designed to give a face to the 2010 US Olympic team. She is on the cover so Americans who don't follow downhill skiing will know who to cheer for. People like a name AND a face. She also happens to be arguably the best in her sport and is expected to win gold, which makes her an ideal cover athlete.
Quick, who was the face of the US Olympic team in 2008? If you said Michael Phelps you'd be right. What does he have in common with Lindsey Vonn: both are the very best in the sport, both participate in sports that are rarely followed outside of Olympic competition, both sports focus mainly on the accomplishments of the individual, and oh yes, both athlete are considered to be attractive. Why is this a problem? If you devote your life to being in fabulous shape so you can compete at the highest level, it is reasonably expected that you are at least fairly attractive.
By the way, here's Michael Phelps SI cover, you'll notice the photographer didn't go out of the way to prove he was wearing anything at all, except his gold medals.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/multimedia/photo_gallery/0808/oly.michael.phelps.covers/content.1.html
So we have a male athlete, possibly naked on the cover, in a pose that has nothing to do with his sport, and this is fine. (I guarantee you he is also wearing makeup, it's kind of how a photo shoot works) However, a female athlete in her uniform, posing as if she's competing, but smiling at the camera with a tasteful amount of makeup is somehow objectifying to all women? I rather doubt it.
Some of you maybe wondering about the 1992 photo I mentioned. You'll notice A.J. Kitt has his racing helmet on. You'll also notice that this is a less personal photo. What we have is not a face to cheer for, but a shape with a name, an interchangeable figure to the casual observer. I promise you, if they put A.J. Kitt in a little blush and eye shadow and had him smile at the camera, people outside of the downhill skiing community would still remember him. So it not about sexual objectification, or anything else, The cover is about introducing America to it's champions, the ones who will represent the best of what America has to off. In that context, they should be objectified, but as an example of athletic and physical perfection, of hard work and perseverance, not as a sexual object on the cover. To suggest that the cover intended to be anything other than tasteful, is to see a sexual deviance in the photo that exists only in the eye of the beholder.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/cover/featured/9313/index.htm
The above two links show two different SI Winter Olympics themed covers. The 1st will take you to this years cover showing Lindsey Vonn, the 2nd is a 1992 cover featuring A.J. Kitt. Guess which one people are upset about? Normally I don't like to talk about these supposed controversies, I find them silly and a waste of time. But this one really bothered me, and since I now have a blog, I thought I'd say my piece.
So Let's talk about the Lindsey Vonn picture. It is a shot of her, in full ski equipment, minus a helmet, looking at the camera and smiling while in her skiing pose. That's it. Yes, she is clearly in a photo shoot and not actually skiing downhill. What seems to bother people is that somehow, Ms. Vonn is being objectified in this picture. Why, because she's wearing makeup and has had her hair done for a publicity photo? This is not an objectification of anybody, this is a photo shoot designed to give a face to the 2010 US Olympic team. She is on the cover so Americans who don't follow downhill skiing will know who to cheer for. People like a name AND a face. She also happens to be arguably the best in her sport and is expected to win gold, which makes her an ideal cover athlete.
Quick, who was the face of the US Olympic team in 2008? If you said Michael Phelps you'd be right. What does he have in common with Lindsey Vonn: both are the very best in the sport, both participate in sports that are rarely followed outside of Olympic competition, both sports focus mainly on the accomplishments of the individual, and oh yes, both athlete are considered to be attractive. Why is this a problem? If you devote your life to being in fabulous shape so you can compete at the highest level, it is reasonably expected that you are at least fairly attractive.
By the way, here's Michael Phelps SI cover, you'll notice the photographer didn't go out of the way to prove he was wearing anything at all, except his gold medals.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/multimedia/photo_gallery/0808/oly.michael.phelps.covers/content.1.html
So we have a male athlete, possibly naked on the cover, in a pose that has nothing to do with his sport, and this is fine. (I guarantee you he is also wearing makeup, it's kind of how a photo shoot works) However, a female athlete in her uniform, posing as if she's competing, but smiling at the camera with a tasteful amount of makeup is somehow objectifying to all women? I rather doubt it.
Some of you maybe wondering about the 1992 photo I mentioned. You'll notice A.J. Kitt has his racing helmet on. You'll also notice that this is a less personal photo. What we have is not a face to cheer for, but a shape with a name, an interchangeable figure to the casual observer. I promise you, if they put A.J. Kitt in a little blush and eye shadow and had him smile at the camera, people outside of the downhill skiing community would still remember him. So it not about sexual objectification, or anything else, The cover is about introducing America to it's champions, the ones who will represent the best of what America has to off. In that context, they should be objectified, but as an example of athletic and physical perfection, of hard work and perseverance, not as a sexual object on the cover. To suggest that the cover intended to be anything other than tasteful, is to see a sexual deviance in the photo that exists only in the eye of the beholder.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Some thoughts about "The Real"
Hey everyone, the Broadway show, PASSING STRANGE recently came out on DVD and I wanted to talk about it a little bit. For those who don't know, I got to see this show in New York during March of 2008 and it has stayed with me like no show ever has. If you're curious, please rent or buy the DVD. Spike Lee taped the final 3 performances at the Belasco Theater and he truly makes the show come to life. That said, I'm going to post some thoughts below that are message spoilers (I take a stab at the meaning of the show) and a few plot spoilers as well. You have been warned.
Passing Strange: The Real is a contruct.
“You know it’s weird that morning you wake up and realize that your entire adult life is based on the decision of a teenager - a stoned teenager?” -Stew (narrator)
Passing Strange is a play about the dangers of chasing transcendence, of seeking it as life rather than just a piece of it. Those of us who live our passion for art have an addiction to transcendent moments, that point where art, artist, and audience meet to create magic. It can happen on stage at a play, in a movie theatre, at a rock concert, and in a church. It is the shared moment, a moment of clarity, “the real.”
Passing Strange follows the story of Youth as he struggles to free himself of the oppression of middle class black America. His pursuit of art and sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll lead him first to Amsterdam and later to West Berlin in the 1980s. But Youth is full of excuses and unrest. He cannot stay in Amsterdam because this European paradise has dulled his pain and passion to create art. So he flees to Berlin, and reimagines himself as an authority on all of black culture, and an avant-garde artiste.
In L.A. he wasn’t black enough. He wouldn’t play up the stereotype. In Berlin, he passes as the “blackest” man around. His search for the real is always focused solely on art at the expense of his relationship and his own identity. Towards the end of the play, Youth declares, “life is a mistake, that only art can correct.” Youth attempts to rectify a love taken for granted by putting it onstage, to make it “real.” But art has limits. It cannot return lost time, and it cannot absolve the sin of forgetting the ones who love you. It is a heavy message, and a reminder to artists everywhere that “the real” is only the transcendence found in art. It is not life, and it is not reality. To turn your back on reality in favor of “the real” can result in a loss of the things that make “the real” worthwhile: a family to share it with. Our narrator tells the story of the pretzel man reminding him that “the real is not real. The real is a construct. The real is a creation. The real is artificial. The kid in your play is looking for something in life that can only be found in art.” I think this is a sentiment worth remembering as we strive in our own ways to bring “the real” into the world.
That's all for today, I'll try to do better next time.
p.s. in case you care, I give this show 5 stars, a gold sticker and an A+.
Passing Strange: The Real is a contruct.
“You know it’s weird that morning you wake up and realize that your entire adult life is based on the decision of a teenager - a stoned teenager?” -Stew (narrator)
Passing Strange is a play about the dangers of chasing transcendence, of seeking it as life rather than just a piece of it. Those of us who live our passion for art have an addiction to transcendent moments, that point where art, artist, and audience meet to create magic. It can happen on stage at a play, in a movie theatre, at a rock concert, and in a church. It is the shared moment, a moment of clarity, “the real.”
Passing Strange follows the story of Youth as he struggles to free himself of the oppression of middle class black America. His pursuit of art and sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll lead him first to Amsterdam and later to West Berlin in the 1980s. But Youth is full of excuses and unrest. He cannot stay in Amsterdam because this European paradise has dulled his pain and passion to create art. So he flees to Berlin, and reimagines himself as an authority on all of black culture, and an avant-garde artiste.
In L.A. he wasn’t black enough. He wouldn’t play up the stereotype. In Berlin, he passes as the “blackest” man around. His search for the real is always focused solely on art at the expense of his relationship and his own identity. Towards the end of the play, Youth declares, “life is a mistake, that only art can correct.” Youth attempts to rectify a love taken for granted by putting it onstage, to make it “real.” But art has limits. It cannot return lost time, and it cannot absolve the sin of forgetting the ones who love you. It is a heavy message, and a reminder to artists everywhere that “the real” is only the transcendence found in art. It is not life, and it is not reality. To turn your back on reality in favor of “the real” can result in a loss of the things that make “the real” worthwhile: a family to share it with. Our narrator tells the story of the pretzel man reminding him that “the real is not real. The real is a construct. The real is a creation. The real is artificial. The kid in your play is looking for something in life that can only be found in art.” I think this is a sentiment worth remembering as we strive in our own ways to bring “the real” into the world.
That's all for today, I'll try to do better next time.
p.s. in case you care, I give this show 5 stars, a gold sticker and an A+.
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