(05/20/12 4:00am)
By now, The Avengers has already earned more than a billion dollars, sold a bunch of comic-book-themed merchandise to boot and pummeled Battleship and The Dictator so hard at the box office that Disney/Marvel might as well have been shouting "Hulk smash!" Distributor Walt Disney Pictures has wiped its hands of John Carter, the company's early-2012 bomb, Marvel Studios is scheming up a Spidey-Web flowchart of future tie-in sequels, and writer-director Joss Whedon (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Firefly) is celebrating the long-deserved mainstream success that might make him the sci-fi/fantasy film director of the decade. None of this could have happened without CGI. The Avengers brims with so many mutants, explosions and flying ships that its digital effects seem almost banal compared to what's not digitally produced-human interaction, love, faces-the "real" stuff that helps us care about the movie when we're not amazed by its effects. I call it the Avatar effect, although The Avengers has less computerized hocus-pocus and a more meaningful plot and dialogue than James Cameron's love letter to computer graphics. There were high expectations. The build-up leading to this Justice League-style brouhaha consisted of Iron Man, Iron Man 2, The Incredible Hulk, Thor and Captain America-the clash of the comic book titans. Like last summer's Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, The Avengers was a culmination of many things and many people, and it could not afford to fail. Instead, it soars. It gave me more than just the regular superhero-geek satisfaction. It was the warm feeling of good in the form of ass-kicking awesomeness triumphing over evil. The premise of The Avengers is simple. It's a movie that brings together the various superheroes whose stories have been brought to the big screen by Marvel over the past years, the same way The Avengers comic book brought together all the Marvel superheroes in the 1960s. S.H.I.E.L.D., the most powerful covert peacekeeping organization on Earth, has employed a team of talented fighters to serve and protect the human race against villains. This was leader Nick Fury's (Samuel L. Jackson) dream until a blue glowing cube landed on Earth via a blue, glowing portal. All you need to know about the "Tesseract"-essentially a McGuffin that borrows its name from Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time-is that it's really important and everyone wants it. The suspense comes from the clash between the good guys, while the sole villain, a wily magician named Loki (Tom Hiddleston), does what he can with his screen time. Whedon's genius lies in giving each male lead the time he needs as a full-fledged character without going over the three-hour mark. Each superhero's backstory is complex and important to the plot without punishing the viewer for not seeing the previous Marvel movies. An example: "Volatile, self-obsessed, and doesn't play well with others" is the self-ascribed personality profile of Robert Downey Jr.'s Iron Man, a cynic with a suit of steel and a heart of gold (Or is that just a reactor core?). Iron Man, also known as the billionaire weapons inventor Tony Stark, cares more about buying the world than saving it, so his transformation from narcissist to hero is a joy to watch. If you remember the mediocre Iron Man 2, then you'll note that he's gone a long way from drunkenly urinating inside his suit. Mark Ruffalo shines as Bruce Banner, the sensitive outcast scientist with a dark, green secret. He's better than Eric Bana and Edward Norton as the Hulk, and Marvel would do well to keep him on board for future Hulk films. And, like almost every male protagonist in the film, Banner has a bit of sexual tension with the Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson). Johansson's Widow isn't merely a femme fatale but an emotional force in the film. She should have fallen for the burly Captain America (Chris Evans), but instead remains romantically attached to Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner)-the only character without a tie-in movie. Then there's Thor (Chris Hemsworth), the demigod from Norse mythology and Loki's older brother. He's pretty. Canadian actress Colbie Smulders (How I Met Your Mother) landed a great role as Maria Hill, Fury's right- hand woman. Clark Gregg reprises his role as Agent Phil Coulson, Fury's right hand man. S.H.I.E.L.D. would have been a typical bore, however, if not for its impressive method of travel: an aircraft carrier that flies. All that needs to be said about what actually happens: Loki obtains the Tesseract to create a portal with which to unleash aliens to take over the world, and the Avengers try to stop him via lots of epic battles. The action of the film must be lauded. Behind the computerized gloss of every scene is a creative imagination that redeems the superhero movie as a genre. This isn't the epic clutter of effects you find in Transformers, but well-choreographed flashes of the past and present. Loki, like all supervillains, is soundly defeated. But I'm grateful he was there to help spawn the sequels I'm already eager to watch. Stay until the end of the credits-the actual credits-and you'll see why the next Avengers film might be even bigger and better.
(05/19/12 4:00am)
There are three Guatemalan restaurants in Waltham: Mi Tierra, Paisano and Guanachapi's. Guanachapi's is my choice as the ideal spot for hungry, budget-conscious college students. It's a far more authentic experience than the more popular Mexican restaurant Margarita's right next door on Moody Street. First-years: Avoid the enchiladas at Margarita's like the plague and order them at Guanachapi's instead. You probably know the place just from walking past it. You're not sure what it's called, but you know that it's that Mexican-looking place with less-than-fancy tables that never has too many people inside. Don't let that trick you into thinking that it's not one of the best Guatemalan venues in Waltham. Guanachapi's is the real deal with great portions and a robust menu of rice plates, enchilada dishes, side orders, drinks and desserts. When I ate at the restaurant last week, my friends and I ran into a Mexican student from Brandeis who was familiar with the types of foods found on the menu. She informed us that Mexican and Guatemalan cuisine share many similarities. She recommended three dishes to me, and they were delicious. My favorite part of Guanachapi's came at the beginning of the meal. Like any Guatemalan restaurant worth its salt, lime and tequila, Guanachapi's serves complimentary tortilla chips and salsa. Unlike other restaurants, the salsa is homespun perfection in a bowl. It's thin, almost watery, and orange in color. Rather than large chunks of onions and red tomato, the restaurant's salsa is a blend of just a few ingredients combined into this soup-like sauce. Not everyone at the table was accustomed to this type of salsa, but it worked wonders for my taste buds. Try to get the waitress to refill your table's chips and salsa, though it doesn't work every time. For my entr?(c)e, I ordered the steamy, meaty beef enchiladas ($9). The beef is ground up and wrapped inside three tortilla rolls with cheese and served with flavored rice, refried black beans and a salad consisting of lettuce, cucumber and a hearty slice of avocado. This is a classic meal in Latin America, and apparently Guanachapi's serves the dish in its own Guatemalan style. I highly recommend the enchiladas for anyone daring enough to order such a big plate of food. The best part was undoubtedly the refried black bean side, with its creamy consistency and blend of salty and savory flavor. According to our Mexican expert, the chicken tamales ($3) are the most famous dish at Guanachapi's. Indeed, the tamales were all gone when I tried to order them. If you get to try them out sometime, let me know how they are. For now, I'm going to have to trust the masses with this one. When it comes to beverages, I'm always surprised at the types of sodas and soft drinks Mexican and Guatemalan restaurants serve. Some are so tasty I wonder why they never caught on in the States. For example, why don't more people drink horchata ($2.25)? It's a creamy, refreshing blend of sugar, soda and coconut milk that washes down the rice and beans delightfully. When you stop by Guanachapi's, experiment a little with the drink menu, and you might find a new drink to replace your current Diet or Coke Zero obsession. Of course, no meal is complete without dessert. The platanos con crema ($3.45), another Guatemalan classic, are fried plantains with sour cream. If you haven't had this South American staple before, then try it. It's that simple. Don't think of it like eating a banana on a plate with a fork; it's more like eating a wonderful, natural and creamy pastry with a light touch of sour cream to counterbalance the rich sweet taste. Two final tips: First, don't eat too much or you'll get a stomach ache (it is beans and cheese, after all). Second, disregard the first rule sometimes, and try everything you can on the menu. The author is a member of the Class of 2012 and a former editor of the Justice.
(05/01/12 4:00am)
Dance is an art of the present. Unlike film, literature or painting, it thrives on live performance. Its emotional and aesthetic effects are lost when seen on footage or, admittedly, recounted in a review. Why, then, has Alvin Ailey's "Revelations," a transcendent hymn to the African-American spirit, become timeless since its debut in 1960? Why are these movements and images, among the thousands of modern dances since created, worth performing over and over again? Robert Battle, the new artistic director at the Alvin Ailey Dance Company, offered an answer with last weekend's programming at the Citi Performing Arts Center's Wang Theatre (the last performance was on April 29). As proof of Battle's innovative vision, each night brought new dances for the company, including works by choreographer Paul Taylor. More important, as proof of Battle's deference to legacy and history, he ended each night with Ailey's "Revelations." He said in a phone interview that the inclusion of "Revelations" was a "no-brainer." It was an obvious, yet insightful decision. Battle decided to become a dancer after seeing "Revelations" performed in Miami, Fla. when he was 12. He went on to study at The Juilliard School and in Ailey's junior dance company, Ailey II. He also formed his own dance company, Battleworks. After a year of training, he officially became the new director of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater in 2011. By succeeding the great Judith Jameson-who succeeded Ailey-as the company's new leader, Battle fulfilled a Hollywood-esque dream. He has spoken of his excitement and his gratefulness to that inexplicable thing artists like to call luck. He has also discussed his flat-out lack of nervousness as the new artistic director. Battle took the stage with that same willful exuberance to preface last Friday's performance. After welcoming the audience like a friendly uncle at a Thanksgiving dinner, Battle made way for Taylor's "Arden Court," a classic 1981 piece of hedonistic innocence, if there is such a thing. A rose shines in the backdrop as two intersecting beams of light give the dancers a path to the front of the stage. William Boyce's symphonies fill the theater. The music is something you'd hear at the coronation of a Renaissance king. The royal introduction complements the Wang Theatre's lavish artwork and golden architecture. If dance is a transportation of the mind and soul, then the Ailey company took audiences to some faraway place during "Arden Court." Ohad Naharin's "Minus 16," sounds like a surprise for Ailey on paper. The famous dance by the Israeli choreographer features dancers in formal dress engaging the audience by inviting them onstage. Ailey had never done anything like that before, Battle said in a question-and-answer session after the performance. It worked. From its tribal opening scene, in which dancers gyrate on chairs placed in a half-circle, to its jittery climax of improvised dance, the Ailey company made each move a highlight. Because of the audience interaction, "Minus 16" was the most popular featurette of the night. But "Revelations" was the most important. From beginning to end, the dance was virtually unchanged from the 1960 version, and rightly so. The introduction, titled "Pilgrim of Sorrow," imbues the stage with spiritual purity. How could this classic be any better if it were different? A church choir standing in the shape of a flock of birds raises their arms in prayer, or in flight. One dancer offsets the unity of the congregation-the uniformity of choreographed dance. A woman raises her hand in abrupt jerks while everyone else reaches skyward in a smooth motion. This is a wonderful thing about modern dance. While any dancer knows that movements are only effective if performed in unison, sometimes bending the rules is better than following them. As a result, out of the congregation, we see the individual. The dancers, previously seen as movable parts within a great machine, are now broken, unique pieces. Of course, underneath the celebratory innocence of "Relevations" is a story about slavery. Underneath the migration of the group is the toil of the individual. In that sense, "I Wanna Be Ready" is the dance's poignant climax. The solo is performed by Kirven James Boyd, an eighth-year dancer with the troupes who graces the front of the program as well as many billboards. A wide, yellow spotlight shines on Boyd as he spins, ducks, rolls, jumps and prays. The oval shape of the light, and the threshold between light and dark, form a boundary meant to be broken. But Boyd never steps out of the light for too long. No doubt there were audience members present who simply enjoyed the dance for its visual effects. But a few viewers understood the company's historical significance. One woman at the post-performance talk said she saw the company every year since 1972. Roughly half of those performances were while Ailey was still alive, before he succumbed to HIV in 1989. I didn't have a chance to ask her about that. All she said, over and over, to Battle and the dancers onstage, was "Thank you. Thank you so much."
(03/05/12 5:00am)
Midterms got you down? Heading off-campus to escape the stress-filled air is always a good idea, but eating at the same restaurant in Harvard Square over and over again gets tedious. (There are many better restaurants than Bartley's Burgers or Le's, but that's a different article.) I'm surprised how many fun and cheap things there are to do in Boston and how few Brandeisians know about them. Here are my top five arts-related, college-oriented activities to do next Friday or Saturday night. As an added bonus, they all cost less than $12. 1. Go to a midnight movie screening "You're tearing me apart, Lisa!" Ring any bells? How about the infamous Rocky Horror Picture Show? If you've never enjoyed this long-standing tradition, check out the weekly midnight offerings at the Coolidge Corner Theatre in Brookline, accessible by the Green Line. I remember nodding off at my first midnight showing, but a baby-faced Michael J. Fox fighting school gangs in Class of 1984 soon turned my uninitiated malaise into bona fide late-movie party-rocking. The Theatre's website describes the insanely awesome tradition better than I could: "Late-night, weekend programming for the cool insomniac crowd, including horrifying, weird, camp, avant-garde, tripped-out movies, interactive and cult niche live performances." (Didn't catch the quoted reference? It comes from The Room, the best worst movie of all time, which shows at the Theatre at the end of March.) 2. Drinks, Shakespeare and 1970s disco Yes, all at once. It's called the Donkey Show, an ongoing vaudeville-party-theater event produced by the American Repertory Theatre. The show combines retro-showbiz erotica in the form of nude dancers, psychedelic lights, a live bar and yes, a show involving a donkey to create a fantastical version of William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. It may not be for everyone, but it's an unforgettably intoxicating and groovy combination. You can stay for drinks after the muscular Puck and nearly topless Titania have had their fun. This 18-plus party opens every Saturday night at 7:30 p.m. and 10:30 p.m. at OBERON in Harvard Square. 3. Oscar-winning films and modern art at the ICA Everyone and their lab partner knows about the Rose Art Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, both of which house excellent contemporary art collections and are free for Brandeis students. So I wonder why more people don't know about the Institute of Contemporary Art, nestled in the south Boston waterfront. For a $10 admission ticket, the ICA offers a fascinating rotation of modern sculpture, photography and painting exhibits and a plethora of events and film screenings. Catch the "2012 Academy Award-Nominated Short Films" before its last showing on March 11. 4. See Bill Murray for free Who can pass up a chance to hear Bill Murray speak about his one-of-a-kind career? Murray defined classic American comedy as a cast member on Saturday Night Live and in films like Caddyshack, Stripes, Ghostbusters and Groundhog Day. He's also on his way to a possible Oscar nomination for his portrayal of Franklin D. Roosevelt in the upcoming Hyde Park on Hudson. He'll be discussing the role of political satire in American culture with SNL veteran writer James Downey at Suffolk University on March 27. The talk is a couple of weeks away, but you should start brushing up on your '80s comedies now. 5. The obvious choices: Museum of Fine Arts and Boston Symphony Being a college student has its perks. Since we tend to spend a lot of time in libraries, bars and coffee shops and little time in museums, live theaters and concert halls, various institutions like to offer us discounts. Bring your Brandeis ID to the MFA and see its dazzling contemporary art wing for free. The museum's newest exhibition, "Paper Zoo," featuring the animal prints and drawings by artists such as Rembrandt and Picasso, is also worth the trip. And of course, don't forget the amazing deal the Boston Symphony Orchestra College Card offers. Pay a $25 one-time fee and your college ID gets you into an unlimited amount of BSO concerts every weekend until you graduate. Considering that a single admission for professional classical music usually costs more than $40, I don't see who could pass up this opportunity. As a first-year at Brandeis, I thought that Boston had a small arts scene compared to cities like Los Angeles, Chicago and New York. I couldn't be more wrong. Just check out websites like artsboston.org. Artsy folks should never feel bored or underwhelmed in such a vibrant and endlessly surprising arts town. Start going out more and you'll eventually realize that there are so many venues to love and to keep going back. Besides the events I've listed here, my top venues for the arts include the Regattabar (jazz), the House of Blues (electronic and pop music), Company One (experimental theater), World Music/CRASHarts (world music) and the Brookline Booksmith (live author readings). My favorite events include the Boston Book Festival, PAX East (video game convention) and the Berklee Beantown Jazz Festival. I hope some of my suggestions help you make it through the tough academic week.
(03/05/12 5:00am)
"Now is the Time."
(02/06/12 5:00am)
You think you're in love. No, that's not it. It's more like a coolly unsettling mix of shock, lust and desperation. You see the half-naked blonde inches in front of you, covered with bite marks and a flimsy bathrobe dangling off her shoulder. Her hair is in electric disarray from a fight with her new husband. She gets so close you feel her breath. Then, for a second, she looks directly at you—gulp. Your insides squirm, but you're frozen in your seat. You want to look away, but it's impossible to take your eyes off such an unwaveringly vulnerable performance. That's the feeling Mrs. Claude Dunphy (Erin Markey) stirs up in Tennessee Williams' Green Eyes, playing at the Ames Hotel on Court Street, Boston until Feb. 26. Markey's performance of this commanding yet fragile character is as good as it gets on a theater stage, and critics like The New Yorker's John Lahr agree. Directed by Travis Chamberlain, for Company One, Green Eyes is an intimate, 45-minute, one-act show in a hotel room with a maximum of 25 audience members. It's also listed as 18-and-over only. "Mrs. Dunphy's traits are basically the art of femininity," Markey said to me in a phone interview. "It's a blend of gentle and domineering." Originally from the South, Markey moved to New York to direct and act. On the phone, she certainly sounds like a normal, intelligent woman. That's why it's hard to believe Markey is the person who, night after night, becomes the crazed vixen we see stretched out on a 1970s-style motel room bed. As Dunphy, she draws out her syllables, giving each word the trademark seductive New Orleans drawl you hear from A Streetcar Named Desire's Blanche. It's a more luscious and pleading version of Markey's own South Carolina accent, and I couldn't get enough of it during the play. There's just one other character in Green Eyes: the husband. Claude Dunphy, played by Alan Brincks, is a soldier on leave from the Vietnam War. Like Streetcar's Stanley, he's Tennessee Williams' typical Southern brute, highly suspicious of others and always either brooding or yelling. He and his wife wake up the morning after their honeymoon, and the tension between them builds immediately. "Where did you get those bruises?" he asks. "You gave them to me," she says. "No, I didn't," he says. This conflict is the basic premise of Green Eyes, but it's one that escalates into the chilling territory of domestic violence and sadomasochism. The Ames Hotel is a fitting venue because claustrophobia is a major theme in the play. The Ames is an upscale boutique hotel with a cocktail lounge to the right of the lobby and two cramped elevators that lead to the redesigned bedroom. Located across from Old State House—where the Boston Massacre occurred—the hotel has narrow, dark-lit halls and an even narrower staircase. The transformed room of Green Eyes takes the audience to 1970s New Orleans with a wooden-knobbed radio, a cheap rug, a forgotten brand of cigarettes and a handle of bourbon. The stage lights, placed in the corners, accentuate Brincks' and Markey's various poses while throwing their shadows onto the ceiling. There are too many plants in the room. It reminds you of the Vietnam jungle. Williams wrote Green Eyes in 1970, but the play went unpublished until 2008. Many regard his later plays, especially obscure ones like Green Eyes, as inferior to classics like Streetcar and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Chamberlain's take on this short and brutal one-act proves that to be untrue. Chamberlain sees Green Eyes as a way for Williams, who was outed in 1968, to respond to homophobic sentiments directed toward him at the time. Although this is what the director told me a few weeks ago, there are no obvious overtones of sexual transgression in the play. Perhaps Chamberlain snuck in a queer theme or two, but I didn't notice it, nor do I think Brincks and Markey convey it in their performances—it's how Green Eyes remains faithful to the writing while inviting multiple interpretations of what the play means at the same time. After all, the play hinges on subjectivity. It's impossible to figure out what happened between Mr. and Mrs. Dunphy the night before or why. It doesn't matter that they can't get their stories straight, though, since they—and the audience—simply get caught in the moment. That moment, that 45 minutes of ruthless twisting and turning, is more visceral and memorable than any I've experienced in theater.
(01/30/12 5:00am)
Do the Oscars really matter? The question has been on my mind ever since the nominations for the 84th Academy Awards, which air Sun., Feb. 26 on ABC, came out last Tuesday. For film buffs, the day the nominees are announced is usually more exciting than the Super Bowl or the Republican primaries. For members of the film industry, it's a make-or-break opportunity for their career. For other people, it's simply an award show filled with movies they've never seen. I've always seen the Oscars as a chance for me to flush out my "movies-to-see" list. A film gets nominated for Best Picture, and I think, "That must be a good movie, I should go see it." For casual filmgoers, the Academy Awards serve as a metric of a film's quality. Like Rotten Tomatoes, which assigns scores to films based on critics' ratings, the Oscars is an easy way to see what good movies are out there. According to this year's voters, the films to see in 2011 were The Artist, The Descendants, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, The Help, Hugo, Midnight in Paris, Moneyball, The Tree of Life and War Horse. But, like Rotten Tomatoes, the Academy Awards uses a highly formulaic system that attempts to reach a consensus of opinion. In that regard, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has a flawed goal—how can you weigh the merits of one outstanding film with that of another great, yet extremely different, film? Many people I know will watch the Oscars every year with fervor but never bat an eye at the Golden Globes or the Screen Actors Guild Awards. Sure, the Oscars are more prestigious, but it's like any other awards ceremony—a select number of people vote, and films with the most votes win. Take how films are nominated, for example. Each of the Academy's 5,783 voting members, most of them actors, directors and writers, list their five favorite movies of the year, and rank them from one to five. However, Entertainment Weekly explains that this system favors love-it-or-hate-it films like The Tree of Life and Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. "More than ever before, a voter's No. 1 selection is the thing that matters," according to a Jan. 24 EW.com article titled "Best Picture Oscar: So why are there nine nominees?" by John Young. "The only way a ballot's No. 2, No. 3, No. 4, or No. 5 selection will come into play is if that voter's No. 1 choice was extremely popular (triggering the surplus rule) or extremely unpopular (receiving less than [one] percent of total vote)." In other words, films like Bridesmaids and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo most likely received many number three, number four and number five votes, but not enough number one votes to receive a Best Picture nomination. A lot of people might have hated Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, but at least five percent of Academy voters put it as their number one film, which automatically nominates any film for Best Picture—this new percentage-based threshold rule explains why there are nine nominees for Best Picture, and not 10 this year. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close received a score of 46 percent on Rotten Tomatoes. To compare, Mark Walherg's ho-hum Contraband scored higher, while Bridesmaids, which was snubbed Best Picture or Best Director nominations, scored 90 percent. The inconsistency between the Academy Awards and Rotten Tomatoes this year highlights the difficulty of determining which films are good and which aren't. And while the Academy Awards set out to honor the greatest films of the year, an already impossible task, it doesn't usually do its job particularly well. In fact, the only thing the Oscars may be good for is picking the best "Oscar films" of the year. What do I mean by this? Take last year's Best Picture winner as an example. The King's Speech is the perfect example of a film that wasn't necessarily a fine cinematic achievement, a hugely popular success or an aesthetically—or socially—challenging work of art. What it had was a big story featuring a certain set of traits that appear in most Best Picture nominees: First, the film is based on a significant historical event; second, it's not a comedy, horror, science fiction or fantasy film; third, and most important, the film's protagonist is important, yet has a debilitating flaw, and performs a tear-jerking monologue of immense vulnerability about three-fourths of the way into the film—you know, that "Oscar-winning" scene. "Best Picture winners tend to be very popular, more or less traditional, and at least somewhat good," says Prof. Mark Feeney (AMST), a Pulitzer-winning arts and entertainment critic at the Boston Globe. "The important point is that the Best Picture winner shouldn't be considered some kind of consensus finest release of the year." Of course, whether the Academy Awards are worth watching or not, it nonetheless affects the film industry. On average, Best Picture nominees' revenue increases by $20 million, according to research firm IBISWorld. And there's no doubt it has made the careers of some of our most beloved actors and directors. Audiences just need to realize that it shouldn't be taken so seriously. Says Feeney: "Well, at least the Oscars aren't as ridiculous as the Grammys."
(01/30/12 5:00am)
Critics can be baffling. They lauded Hugo, Martin Scorcese's love-letter to classic Hollywood cinema, and voted Michel Hazanavicius' The Artist, a celebration of the golden age of Hollywood, onto the Oscar throne. Like the two films, Steven Spielberg's War Horse runs off themes of nostalgia and was nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards, filling out a surprisingly robust roster of past-loving films from 2011. But unlike Hugo and The Artist, War Horse's initial critical reception was lukewarm, and it continues to be an underdog in the Oscar race. Eric Melin of Scene-stealers.com, a certified critic on RottenTomatoes.com, even called the film "a trite, manipulative soap opera run through the lens of World War I." He couldn't be more wrong. War Horse is sometimes a tad too grand, but it's grand in the sense that it takes your breath away. It makes you believe that larger-than-life characters and landscapes can lift you out of the real world in a way that no other medium can. It reminds you of how you felt seeing your favorite film for the first time. Unfortunately, Spielberg's ode to, well, Spielberg, will be a dark horse in the Oscar race, an unlikely contender against The Artist. But if initial doubters saw it twice, like I did, their minds very well could change. The second time, pieces of the plot fit together more elegantly and the cinematography seemed more beautiful. I'm not sure if The Artist has that kind of lasting value. War Horse is about an English country boy and his horse and the way the Great War changes them. The broodingly dramatic, yet ultimately unspectacular, Jeremy Irvine plays Albert, while 14 different horses were used as the boy's childhood love, Joey. Albert's father, a retired soldier-turned-farmer, buys Joey at an auction one day, though the horse is too wild to plow any field. The inevitable bond Joey and Albert form isn't just in service of the movie—if Albert doesn't train Joey to turn the family's rocky pasture, they won't have a harvest to pay the rent. Yet before the first act seems to close out, World War I begins. Just like that, the perspective shifts to Joey's, who is passed from owner to owner. And while the horse's almond-colored face can only span so many emotions, through a series of brilliant close-ups we sense his fear, his hope and even his feeling of love when he meets a black mare on the battlegrounds. The browns and bright greens of the English countryside have turned into a grey, hellish landscape—think of the first scene of Saving Private Ryan. Yet unlike that film, War Horse retains an innocence throughout, artfully censoring the war's gore and emphasizing the emotional consequences instead. That's not to say the gravity of World War I, with its yellow poison gas, mud trenches and barbed wire, doesn't hit the viewer hard in the stomach—a rare feat for a PG-13 movie. As a war film, is it not ridiculous that the protagonist is a horse? What about the fact that everyone speaks English, including the German soldiers and the French villagers? True, War Horse isn't without flaws, but the film's splendor makes you forget about them. When I saw Schindler's List for the first time, I was offended that everyone spoke English. But the dramatic oomph of that film quickly overrode my doubts. With War Horse, Spielberg has again crafted a magnificent and larger-than-life film, with John Williams supplying a score that may stay with you even longer than the film's characters—Williams will no doubt win an Oscar for Best Original Score. Spielberg, on the other hand, has won Best Director at the Oscars twice, one for Schindler's List and one for Saving Private Ryan. In many ways, War Horse is just like those films—unforgettable, superbly emotional and a film only Spielberg could have made. Despite a declining box office revenue and inevitable Oscar snub, I hope audiences see it as such.
(01/23/12 5:00am)
Republicans aren't the only people in a race right now. While Newt Gingrich and others look to the Florida primaries, the entertainment industry has its sights set on Feb. 26, when Billy Crystal hosts the 84th Academy Awards. Among the frontrunners for Best Picture and Best Director, a common theme has inexplicably emerged—celebrating the past. Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris revisits Paris' golden age; Martin Scorsese's Hugo celebrates classic French filmmaker George Méliès; The Muppets (an underdog) revitalizes, well, the Muppets; and Steven Spielberg's War Horse uses an iconic, old-fashioned style of cinematic narrative. It's as if the top filmmakers last year all decided to hop on the same nostalgia train. I'm not sure how the trend got started–even The Descendants and Young Adult are about looking back. The one film, however, that best exemplifies this yearning for the past, this longing for an older style of film, is Michel Hazanavicius' silent black-and-white film, The Artist. Critics predict that the film may snatch Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor for Jean Dujardin and even Best Actress for Bérénice Bejo. For the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to consider a film without sound or color to be the best of 2011 is an insightful commentary on how critics and audiences feel about modern film. George Valentin (Dujardin) would relate. He's a star of the late 1920s' silent era, a handsome and self-obsessed actor of a time when acting equated to exaggerated gestures and facial expressions—none of that silly talky stuff. As Valentin walks out to an adoring crowd after a film screening, a young female fan (Bejo) accidentally bumps into him. Having intruded upon the great Valentin, the crowd goes silent. Yet he laughs, and she charms both him and the cameras on the spot. "Who's that girl?" blares the tabloids. "The name's Miller! Peppy Miller!" she exclaims later (via intertitles, of course). Buffered by newfound publicity, she auditions for one of Valentin's films. The first moments of their interaction contain a subtlety that was unseen in the actual silent era. If romance is about the lines in between and the dialogue left unsaid, it's no surprise that silent cinema produced few, if any, memorable romances. While Hazanavicius stays true to silent film, using classic-font intertitles and an energetic original score by Ludovic Bource—it'll be stiff competition for John Williams' War Horse score—he acknowledges that filmmakers have acquired new tricks in the past 80 years. Pans, wide-angle shots, montages and reflections in the mirror tease out Valentin and Miller's feelings for each other, indicating a budding romance. Though their love is implied, it is never achieved. Valentin is married and Miller is too young–most importantly, however, Miller represents the new face of sound cinema. As "Talkies" become the hot new thing—Valentin remains too proud of his silent art to adapt, falling quickly into poverty and desperation. Miller is soon Hollywood's favorite gal. But instead of leaving Valentin in the dust, she tries to help him out of his golden age stupor. Too bad Midnight in Paris' nostalgic protagonist, Gil Pender, didn't travel back in time to buy him a drink. Miller's collaboration with Valentin, which artfully concludes the film, is triumphant in a way that's only possible in a silent back-and-white picture. Without sound, the audience is drawn deeper into the actors' movements, even if they are exaggerated. After spending nearly the entire film's length pouting and frowning, Valentin's smile in the final scene redeems not only his character, but also his obsolete art form. The Artist clearly had its share of obstacles to overcome. As a silent film made in 2011, it predictably deterred most mainstream audiences. But The Artist is as universally entertaining as they come. Its story is more similar to Friends with Benefits than it is to Tree of Life. And the film is very aware of the fact that it's silent, as is made clear when Valentin has a nightmare in which he can (gasp) suddenly hear the sounds of the world around him—it's all very clever and meta, believe me. Like him, we are glad to return to the muted world. That says something. It's been a long time since silent film had its day, but The Artist brings back the form's glamour with such audacity that it very well may be the best film of 2011.
(01/16/12 5:00am)
If only the Time-Turner existed in real life. You know, the time-traveling necklace Hermione used in the third Harry Potter book to take more classes. This spring, Brandeis is offering an array of interesting, underrated courses focusing on the arts. Students can play the first modern instruments created; examine the role of visual art in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict; study one of the most significant literary families in history with Prof. Kathy Lawrence (ENG); and learn why, out of the eight women in history put on the Federal Bureau of Investigation's Most Wanted List, two of them were Brandeis students. The only problem, of course, is deciding which course to take. Many of these courses engage students in experiential activities, such as performing. They are also frequently the culmination of the professors' identities, their lifelong studies and their passions. Whether you want to fulfill your Creative Arts requirement or get the most out of your education, try these courses in the next week. It might lead to a new major or artistic passion. THA 142B: "Feminist Playwrights: Writing for the Stage by and about Women"
Professor: Alicia Hyland
Current enrollment: 12
Prof. Alicia Hyland's (THA) brand-new course in feminist theater represents a new venture by the Theater Arts department to offer more literature-based and interdisciplinary courses to theater majors and non-majors alike. Themes such as motherhood, reproduction and sexuality will form the focus of the course, as well as the role of theater in social activism and human understanding. Why did these authors write these plays and how can their works be interpreted from a feminist perspective? Like Prof. Joyce Antler's (AMST)course, (bottom right) students will immerse themselves in an exciting genre of theater, and will be expected to produce works of their own. Hyland, who teaches theater lab courses at Brandeis, has always been interested in feminist playwrights. But having spent the past four years raising a daughter, her own ideas of feminism have changed. "I am learning that for women to have an equal and respected place we must allow men more freedom to grow beyond the roles they have been assigned as well," said Hyland in an interview with justArts. "I think that is why in so many of the plays we will be reading, I am even more interested in hearing from the students about how the men are portrayed and how, or why, the playwright chose to assign certain attributes."If only the Time-Turner existed in real life. You know, the time-traveling necklace Hermione used in the third Harry Potter book to take more classes. This spring, Brandeis is offering an array of interesting, underrated courses focusing on the arts. Students can play the first modern instruments created; examine the role of visual art in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict; study one of the most significant literary families in history with Prof. Kathy Lawrence (ENG); and learn why, out of the eight women in history put on the Federal Bureau of Investigation's Most Wanted List, two of them were Brandeis students. The only problem, of course, is deciding which course to take. Many of these courses engage students in experiential activities, such as performing. They are also frequently the culmination of the professors' identities, their lifelong studies and their passions. Whether you want to fulfill your Creative Arts requirement or get the most out of your education, try these courses in the next week. It might lead to a new major or artistic passion. FA 68A: "Israeli Art and Visual Culture: Forging Identities Between East and West"
Professor: Gannit Ankori
Current enrollment: 8
Prof. Gannit Ankori's (FA) credentials speak for themselves. Prior to coming to Brandeis, Ankori was the chair of Hebrew University of Jerusalem's Art History department and published several papers about Frida Kahlo and Jewish and Palestinian art. She served as visiting professor at Harvard and Tufts Universities. In 2006, she wrote an award-winning book titled Palestinian Art, which is distributed around the U.S. by the University of Chicago Press and forms an important part of her course's syllabus. "In a region subsumed by turmoil and conflict," she writes in an older version of the course's syllabus, "Israeli and Palestinian artists have been tenaciously engaged in the creation of vibrant and innovative works of art. Characterized by diversity and boldness, these paintings, sculptures, installations, photographs, films, performances and videos both reflect and transcend the violent contexts in which they are being produced." The course will address issues such as home and exile, national identity, war and peace, the role of artists in the peace process and the historic events of 1948. ENG 77A: "Screening the Tropics"
Professor: Faith Lois Smith
Current enrollment: 12
If you're taking Prof. Faith Lois Smith's (AAAS) course, which focuses on the role of "the tropics" in film, photography and fiction, you might notice that certain locations appeal to an "exotic, picturesque, primitive [and] irrational" model. "Whether it is a James Bond film or a representation of Duvalier's regime in Haiti, the screen is always compelling," Smith said in an interview with justArts. "As part of my teaching and research, I think about how popular culture appeals to some of our deepest fears and pleasures, and this film course will allow me to explore this." Students will study films such as Y Tu Mamá También, Island in the Sun, Wide Sargasso Sea and The Constant Gardener and learn how the theories of Hegel and Gianluigi Buffon help explain what it means to screen the tropics. Smith, who specializes in literature of the Caribbean and the African Diaspora, will be teaching this course for the first time. This could be an eye-opening chance to fulfill that Non-Western requirement with a fascinating course, or simply an opportunity to explore foreign film. ENG 156A: "Local Rebels: Cambridge Authors Against the Grain"
Professor: Michael Gilmore
Current enrollment: 4
This course finds inspiration in the historic and exciting city of Cambridge. A resident of Cambridge, Prof. Michael Gilmore (ENG) has always been interested in the city's authors, particularly ones who rebelled against popular thought. While most people think of Concord and Boston as hotspots for political and social unrest, the Harvard-dominated Cambridge is commonly seen as "arid and academic," Gilmore says. "I think that view is mistaken," said Gilmore in an interview with justArts. "In the 19th century, Cambridge was a stronghold of dissent, for reasons that will come out in the course." Students will learn how the Cambridge community fostered a dynamic collection of writers, including Margaret Fuller and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and the roles these writers played in a larger American discourse. "[The course] helps us to see how a nearby community stood firm against the American grain on issues like slavery, feminism, racial justice and imperialism. In my opinion, that's an inspiring story," Gilmore says. In light of recent protest movements such as Occupy Wallstreet and the Arab Spring, it would be interesting to learn how figures of the past rebelled against injustice. ENG 156B: "When Genius is a Family Affair: Henry, William, and Alice James"
Professor: Kathy Lawrence
Current enrollment: 5
If genius runs in the James family, then a passion for teaching runs in the Lawrence family. University President Frederick Lawrence's wife, Kathy Lawrence, will be leading a course on Henry James, the forefather of literary realism and modernism, and his two influential siblings, William and Alice. Lawrence is an expert on James and an editor of the upcoming Cambridge Edition of the Complete Works of Henry James. She has published various articles on James and will offer students a literary, historical and experiential context of the American-born author. A friend of fellow Bostonian Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry James spent much of his time in Boston pondering the American paradox: How can a country bent on capitalist growth maintain its constitutional promise of liberty? In what ways does progress undermine equality? Students will visit the very sites where he wrote on such subjects. In fact, Lawrence spent much of her life following in the footsteps of Henry James, from staying in the Venice hotel room where he wrote the final chapters of The Portrait of a Lady to visiting James' social clubs in London. Class trips to James' former Boston residencies will be an integral, though not required, portion of the course. "Henry James is my great passion," Lawrence said in an interview with justArts. "But the reasons for teaching the class go much deeper than my own expertise and passion. James … represents the culmination of the 19th-century American literary tradition. Even more important, his work explores the subtle secrets of the human soul and heart." MUS 80B: "Early Music Ensemble"
Professor: Sarah Mead
Current enrollment: 7
After joining a Renaissance dance troupe in high school, Early Music Ensemble director Prof. Sarah Mead (MUS) decided to dedicate her life to the study of 16th- and 17th-century music. Mead arrived at Brandeis in 1982 as the leader of the viola da gamba group, and over the years the ensemble expanded its instrumentation to voice and horns, taking the form of the Early Music Ensemble. The ensemble has come to fill an entire room filled with instruments such as the crumhorn, the vielle, the recorder and the rauschpfeife, an ancestor of the bassoon. Standing inside the space feels like being in a museum where you can touch and play everything on display. This summer, Mead will be in Delaware organizing a group of 300 viola da gamba players, the largest group ever to play together. This feat will be recognized by the Guinness World Records. Students in the Early Music Ensemble will be presented with challenges that aren't present in a modern-day orchestra, from reading music in its original 16th-century notation to figuring out the instrumentation of pieces themselves. "Often, people assume the modern violin is the pinnacle," Mead said in an interview with justArts. "Each instrument in its own time was its pinnacle. The instruments in the 16th century weren't unfinished or unsophisticated instruments. Just as the painters of the time were at the top of their form, so were the musicians." AMST 128B: "History as Theater"
Professor: Joyce Antler
Current enrollment: 9
"Documentary theatre is not only a technique; it's a way of thinking and above all an instrument for acquiring knowledge about the world," wrote Polish playwright Pawel Demirski. What is documentary theater? This quote, which appears at the beginning of a draft syllabus of Prof. Joyce Antler's (AMST) course, is a first step in explaining the role of this theatrical form in understanding events of the past. The topic of this semester's project is more relevant than ever, with the U.S. still tangled in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Students will act as both historians and playwrights, and delve into the anti-war protests of Brandeis' most radical students in 1970. As a result of their violent protests, which caused the death of a police officer during an armed robbery, Susan Saxe and Katherine Power became two of eight women in history ever put on the FBI's Most Wanted List. "They were decidedly a fringe group of radical students here and elsewhere who turned to violent means in their opposition to the Vietnam War," explains Antler. "It was a difficult moment for the majority of Brandeis activists whose approach was non-violent." To recreate these events, students will interview faculty and alumni as well as access FBI reports and materials from the National Strike Information Center from Brandeis' Special Collections. The Saxe trial transcript was also specially made available for the course. Prof. Antler is a published documentary dramatist and has been teaching this course since the 1980s. However, this is the first time this course has been offered for several years. "The process of research and writing this play will enable [students] to understand how documentary theater engages multiple, interacting, historical perspectives and complicates our knowledge of what is ‘fact' and ‘truth,'" she said in an interview with justArts. "This process will also allow the class to contemplate the changing meanings of social justice ideals and activism on the college campus."
(12/05/11 5:00am)
While the winter season has numerous wonders—brightly-wrapped presents, snowmen, lights, music, family gatherings—Boston Ballet's The Nutcracker proves itself year after year as the ultimate Christmas- season treat.
(12/05/11 5:00am)
The predominantly Chinese clientele and staff of Bubor Cha Cha may, like other Chinatown hotspots, intimidate those who don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese. All too often, American diners are confined to the bilingual menu of Hong Kong or Cantonese-style restaurants and miss the gems ordered only through the Chinese menu or by asking the server for a suggestion. Bubor Cha Cha, which has undergone new management over the past months and now offers top notch Malaysian fusion cuisine, escapes this cultural barrier by offering one definitive menu with its best offerings written clearly inside, in both English and Chinese. With authentic Malaysian dishes balancing out Cantonese favorites like the 1/2 roast duck ($13), it's an especially great choice for open-minded parties of four or more. Instead of opting for banalities like Pad Thai ($9) or fried rice, make more adventurous choices like the Salt and Pepper Frog ($17), chopped-up then deep-fried, with a crunchy, salty exterior and juicy inside—it tastes like chicken, but better. Or try the Hainanese chicken ($10 for half, $18.50 for whole), which our party of five quickly gobbled up. It is impressively tender and steamed to perfection. The skin is soft and buttery, which complements the white meat. My personal favorite, this dish is served with cucumbers, jasmine rice and two sauces—one a tangy soy sauce mix and the other a salty and tart green chili sauce. The only mistake we made that night? Ordering half of the Hainanese chicken instead of the whole. While competition is stiff when it comes to Cantonese roast duck in Boston, Bubor Cha Cha's duck holds up well. As a fan of roast duck, I could immediately tell that this is great. The juicy meat and crunchy skin are superb, but the dish doesn't shine until you've picked up a piece with just enough fat underneath the skin. Combined with its signature sauce and a generous mouthful of white rice, a bite of the duck rivals anything in Chinatown. You should order this instead of the Braised Duck ($17). Being adventurous isn't mutually exclusive with being simple. The Plain Sautéed Spinach ($10) is savory without any nauseating MSG taste (not that a Chinatown restaurant would use this ingredient ubiquitous in Chinese take-out). This spinach—not the kind you'd find at the grocery store, but the Chinese kind found in Super 88 or H-Mart—like most vegetable stir-fry, serves as a litmus test for the overall quality of the restaurant's cooking. Before tackling more extravagant dishes, a chef must be able to fry something as simple as spinach and garlic. The result is a delicate and refreshing dish that balances out the meats on the table. The Grouper Filet with Vegetable ($15) is a balanced seafood dish with buttery pan-fried grouper, snow peas, carrot slices and Chinese celery. Like the spinach, the celery is found only in Chinese supermarkets. It is larger, less crunchy than the common celery and is more ideal for stir-fry, giving the dish a nice green broth at the bottom. If not a little pricey, this is a great traditional Cantonese dish that could easily appear in the dining room of a Hong Kong household. Bubor Cha Cha takes its name from a popular Malaysian dessert soup ($5) that is served cold with sweet potato, taro, corn and coconut milk. Not used to having corn in your dessert? Despite the milky richness of the soup, it's actually also very refreshing. While not as light as other Asian dessert soups, it's enough to give your hot, salty meal a sweet finish. The Malaysian iced tea ($2.50) or the light yet flavorful TsingTao beer ($4) are other good choices to round off the night. Once you leave the bamboo roofs, sky-blue walls and HDTVs of Bubor Cha Cha and enter into the Chinatown bustle, make sure to walk around a bit—those frog legs take some time to digest. Bubor Cha Cha is located on 45 Beach St. in Boston and can be reached at (617) 482-3338.
(11/14/11 5:00am)
Adagio Dance Company's Dancefest 2011 was not merely a performance but a coming together of a community.
(10/31/11 4:00am)
According to Johanna Wickemeyer '12, director of Tympanium Euphorium's upcoming production, Urinetown is "a satiric, comedic view of a Malthusian world sometime in the future" where people have to pay the government in order to go to the bathroom. Producer Nick Maletta '13 chimes in with Wickemeyer on the musical production, which hits the Carl J. Shapiro Theater in early December. JustArts: Give justArts an update of Urinetown's progress. How far along are you guys to being able to put on the final show? Johanna Wickemeyer: From the rehearsal staff point of view, the cast has learned all of their music, dance numbers and movement. Now we are in the process of perfecting and integrating all of those musical-play components into a concise, smoothly-running performance. From the production staff point of view, the creative team is finalizing plans, collecting materials and coordinating their ideas with one another and myself. Nick Maletta: We're fortunate to have a performance date that's late in the semester. Putting up a musical requires a huge amount of dedication from a large number of people. At this point, the actors have been taught the staging, music and choreography for the entire show. This week, they're expected to have committed most of the script to memory. From this point forward, the rehearsal production staff will be doing full runs of the show and developing it into a more polished product. From a design perspective, the costumes and props designers are working on pulling together their materials based on their budgets, while the lighting, sound and set designers are starting to think about their plans for the final production. The set design must be determined relatively early in the process so that the director and actors can understand how the stage will be arranged during the performance. JA: Tell me about Urinetown. What kind of production is it? How do you connect with it? JW: Urinetown is one of my favorite contemporary musicals. Urinetown is a satiric, comedic view of a Malthusian world sometime in the future, where clean water is sparse, and a rich upper class charges and taxes the masses of the poor who, of all things, must use publicly-controlled restrooms. Urinetown is a hilarious, punny and intelligent story that often breaks the fourth wall, poking fun at not only the status quo, but also other musicals themselves. The show is both comical and thought-provoking; it is enjoyable for all audiences. I connect with it, not only because I relate to the witty humor, but also because I've performed in the show two times in the past. During my third production of Urinetown, I keep finding new jokes and unique viewpoints for this show, emphasizing the strengths of the actors, and production staff. NM: Urinetown is a comedy with some dark political undertones. It deals with a society in which a water shortage has essentially eliminated private toilets and placed a single corporation in control of all public restroom facilities, forcing people to pay to relieve themselves. This sparks a passionate backlash from the oppressed citizens. I can't say that I have a particular connection to the show, but its themes are fairly relatable. Actually, it's kind of funny, but the "Occupy" protests are sort of timely for our production due to the fact that Urinetown was definitely written as a commentary on the system of capitalism, an issue that is so central to current events at the moment. JA: What are the greatest challenges so far for the production? JW: The greatest challenges thus far in production have to do with funds. Money is tight, and it's difficult to produce a quality and professional product with little funds. Between the rights, set, lighting, sound, costuming, and props, even small productions require large sums of cash. Another challenge is that Urinetown's production runs relatively late in the semester. My plan for the production is to ease stress by getting everyone ready for performance before Thanksgiving break, so no one is rushing last minute to get everything in place. NM: There are a number of challenges we've encountered so far ranging from generating a high quality product with a very limited budget to ensuring that all essential roles in the show are filled (sometimes students decide they can't commit after being cast). As any theater group could tell you, it's also a challenge coordinating among all of the people involved. Theater is extremely collaborative, and clear communication and cooperation is key throughout the entire process. Our show goes up on Dec. 8 with performances throughout the weekend.
(10/18/11 4:00am)
Last Sunday, five a cappella groups from Boston-area colleges—as well as The Poor Richards, who hail from Franklin & Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa.—performed in the Golding Auditorium as part of Starving Artists' first annual Acatoberfest.
(10/10/11 4:00am)
Last Wednesday, my girlfriend treated me to a funk-jazz concert at a posh Cambridge hotel. We saw up-and-coming saxophone star Grace Kelly, 19, guest perform with Bill Banfield and the Jazz Urbane at Sculler's Jazz Club, located in the Hilton Hotel. Grace Kelly is currently one of the hottest and youngest names in jazz, and Bill Banfield is an established guitarist and educator at Berklee College of Music.
(09/27/11 4:00am)
Historically, great jazz groups have come in the form of quartets and quintets led by a highly influential composer and performer. Master bandleaders such as Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Art Blakey stood at the forefront of their music and gave each song their own sound. While each member was essential and individual, they were labeled as "sidemen"—the people who played in the leader's group.
(09/27/11 4:00am)
Joshua Redman once had the whole world in front of him. In 1991, he graduated summa cum laude from Harvard University with a degree in Social Studies and had already been accepted to Yale University Law School. Then something struck him, and he quickly became immersed in the New York jazz scene. The young tenor saxophonist never looked back and now has 14 albums and more than two decades of performing under his belt. Redman's latest project, the collective James Farm, may be the most innovative and influential band in the jazz world today. JustArts: How would you characterize your relationship with Berklee and Boston? Joshua Redman: I went to school in Boston; not Berklee, but Harvard. I made some very strong musical connections and friendships with people at Berklee and the New England Conservatory. I learned to play by hanging out with these musicians—Mark Turner, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Jorge Rossy, Jim Black, Antonio Hart. That was a very formative time for me. I'm very grateful to have gone to school in Boston. Had I not, I don't know if I'd be playing music today. JA: What's interesting to me about James Farm is that it's a collective instead of something like the Joshua Redman Quartet. Was it a conscious decision on your part to be in a collective? JR: From the beginning when the band was formed, we viewed it as a collaborative project, and we've kept it that way. The way we approach our music, develop our sound and come up with our repertoire are really collective decisions. Each of [our] musicians is a strong composer and a visionary bandleader in his own right. We wanted to put this band together and organize it as a band, not as a leader and some sidemen. The music would have a different character than it would if it were any one of our bands. JA: Musically, what is your role in James Farm when you're composing and improvising? JR: When I'm writing music for the band, there's an experimental side of me where I don't know what I'm going for, but I have some ideas and some inspiration, and I kind of try to work with those ideas and flesh them out. Compositionally, I don't always know where I'm going. It's kind of like improvisation, I just go forward and see what emerges. With this band, I definitely have everyone's sound and their approach in mind. Also, these musicians are incredibly flexible and accomplished. You can put anything in front of them, and if there's any musical sense to be made out of it, they'll make it. With this band, we're interested in finding ways to not rely on the model of playing the melody, and everyone takes a solo and we play the melody in the end. There's more of a big-picture approach. We're interested in how we can remain pure and spontaneous improvisers but have those improvisations serve a larger goal of telling a story with the song. JA: Do you usually compose something then present it to the group, or do you bounce ideas off of each other while you're together? JR: The way it's worked so far is we each write independently and bring the song to the group. But when we bring it to the group, it's often not fully formed. We're constantly adjusting the songs and relying on everyone else's intuition and musical intelligence and instincts to make the songs work for the band. None of the songs I've written for the band have had a clear conception of how I thought the music should sound. I had some ideas, and I put them down. But so much of bringing a song to life takes place after the composition process. We breathe life into the music through the human elements of us conversing as a band. JA: Did your approach to your compositions come from a specific inspiration? JR: No, I think we all listen to a lot of music that falls outside of whatever the strict boundaries of jazz might be. We definitely have influences of electronica and modern rock and singer-songwriter music and maybe even some classical music. We each have our strong individual inclinations, and I think one of the strengths of the groups is how these unique personalities come together and how we find common ground as a band. JA: Do you ever go back to the old Coltrane and Miles albums? JR: I don't consider it going back. I mean, do I listen to Coltrane and Miles? Sure. I don't consider it like ‘Oh, let me go back and check out music, that I used to listen or that was once important.' The great music of the masters of jazz— Coltrane, Miles, Ornette Coleman, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Thelonius Monk—their music to me lives in the present. That music affirms universal truth and that music continues to sound so hip and modern to me. —Wei-Huan Chen
(09/20/11 4:00am)
The triangle formed by Harvard Avenue, Brighton Avenue and Commonwealth Avenue in downtown Allston, Mass. is a bustling center of Asian food and entertainment. There's the Super 88 supermarket/restaurant right across from the Packards Corner T stop, Shabu Zen (Japanese food), Jo Jo Taipei (Taiwanese food) and an easy-to-miss but excellent karaoke lounge called Do-Re-Mi down Brighton Avenue. On the western end of this triangle lies Kayuga, a Japanese-Korean fusion destination that embodies the Boston college experience. How so? First, it's a great place for drinks and nightlife that will entertain Boston University and Brandeis students alike. Open daily from 3:30 p.m. to 2 a.m., Kayuga focuses on classy dinners and a late-night sushi and sake bar, fitting for any 21st-birthday celebration, sorority outing, date or bar hop. It's right next to Angora Café, UBurger and Café Japonaise and is within walking distance from hot spots like Wonder Bar, White Horse Tavern and Tavern in the Square. Ask any BU student; they'll show you around. But if your focus is on Kayuga's food and not the environment where it's located—which would be true of anyone under 21—the question arises: Should you go Japanese or Korean? While many have recommended Kayuga's sushi, maki and sashimi menu, my friend and I went Korean and ordered the Dukboki ($10)—rice cakes with spicy sauce—and Okdol Bibimbob ($13)—fried rice and vegetables in a hot stone pot. The miso soup that preceded our entrees was predictable, but is there any other type of miso soup? To liven the night and entertain us while we waited for our food, we delved into Kayuga's impressive sake menu. The smartest choice for sake beginners is the hot House Sake ($8.50, large), but we leaped into more adventurous territories with the Hakushika Junmai Ginjo ($16), a crisp and fruity cold sake that finishes clean. Actually, this sake tastes so deceptively light, with a sweet mouthfeel accompanied by a dry aftertaste, that you should, well, drink responsibly. I thought I kept a slow pace but definitely felt the alcohol by the time the food arrived. Now, just as the overall quality of an American or Italian restaurant can be judged by its bread, so can a Korean restaurant show its true colors in its pre-entrée side dishes. The kimchi, bean sprouts, radishes and pickled cucumber and carrots arrived promptly. The white radishes, similar to the kind served with sushi but delightfully tinged with vinegar, stole the show, while the bean sprouts were less than spectacular. Dukboki is a popular Korean dish with rice cakes, rice noodles and vegetables drizzled with spicy-sweet sauce. The sauce was overwhelming in taste and volume, so I ordered a side of rice to help it go down. Neither the chicken and leek dumplings nor the rice cakes won me over. The onions and carrots, delicately cut, gave the dish a nice balance, but the sauce still masked the vegetables' taste. The best ingredient in the dish was the rice noodles; it was the only thing I finished on the plate. Kayuga's take on the classic Okdol Bibimbob, on the other hand, is impressive. The popular dish comes out sizzling on a hot stone pot—don't touch it!—with rice, meat, vegetables and a fried egg on top. Eat this dish by first mixing everything together and generously adding the spicy sauce. I like to let the rice on the bottom sit for a few minutes, then turn the crunchy, roasted rice over to give the dish some added texture. Newcomers to Korean cuisine should always start with this dish as it's a hearty, easily palatable and widespread item found in many Boston-area eateries (Tom Can Cook on Moody Street has some solid Okdol Bibimbob). So while we chose the road less traveled by trying out Kayuga's Korean sensibilities, it's one that offers better value and sweeter tastes than going Japanese. Not that it should be such a hard choice. If it pleases you, order the Bibimbob, sushi, tempura, sake, Sapporo beer and Soju cocktail bowls all together and stumble out of the place drunk, sociable and satisfyingly full. Kayuga is located at 1030 Commonwealth Ave. in Boston near the Babcock Street MBTA stop. Call (617) 566-8888 for more information.
(09/20/11 4:00am)
While pregamed partygoers begin their exodus Friday night down South Street toward the frat houses, students who choose not to drink or go out are left with the eternal Brandeisian question: What should I do on the weekend? For Jesse Appell '12, Kendrick Gores '12, Jordi Goodman '12, Brian Teagle '12 and the members of Game Knight, a club dedicated to the pursuit of childhood-inspired social activities, Friday night is a chance to act silly, play games and delve into their wild imaginations. JustArts catches up with the leaders of the club to find out what Game Knight is all about. JustArts: What exactly, in your mind, is Game Knight? Jesse Appell: Game Knight is the place where people can play games and drop the illusion that, as adults, we don't have fun the same way we do when we are kids. Kendrick Gores: It's a throwback to your childhood. We do all those things that you used to love doing when you were younger, but we take it up a notch because now we are older, wiser and have university funding. We generally meet every Friday night in the Castle Commons at nine, and have some big events once or twice a semester. JustArts: How or why did you get involved? JA: We came together one night in 2008 when a bunch of friends of mine and I all played lap tag and mafia from Friday night till Saturday morning. We've met Fridays since then. Jordi Goodman: Game Knight really just started because a bunch of our friends freshman year wanted to find something to do on a Friday night. Some of us were shomer shabbat, and so we couldn't go to Boston. Others really didn't want to drink. So what's left? We got together and started playing games from camp—charades and lap tag. Of course, we got much more creative with our games, throwing couch cushions on the floor in Shapiro lounge to play "the floor is lava," or creating dodgeball games with socks—aptly named "sock wars." I have been involved since the beginning—there were about 10 to 15 of us and the group seems to just grow. JustArts: What's the weirdest thing that's happened during one of your meetings? Brian Teagle: A musical procession of swaying murderous zombies. JG: How do I choose? Our club president, Jesse [Appell], decided to explain a few games in Mandarin to new people, convincing a few members that he actually didn't speak any English. Once, when playing charades, someone acted out "quantum physics" by running at a wall—because, according to the laws of quantum physics, if you run at the wall enough times, you'll eventually go through it. Is it weird that a normal event at Game Knight is to throw socks at each other in dodgeball fashion? I really can't help you on the "weirdest" thing—we're all kind of weird. KG: The weirdest thing would be when one of our member's twin brothers came to visit and the switched places multiple times throughout the course of the night, until they made the big reveal and surprised everyone. JustArts: What kinds of things do you buy for the club? BT: Socks, balls, cones, black lights and trips to play laser tag. KG: Any awesome toys our parents didn't buy us as kids, and socks, lots of socks. JustArts: Who is the most interesting person you've met at Game Knight? JG: Jesse's a character—wearing a long gold robe to most Game Knight events. Asaf [Reich] is one of the most ticklish people you've ever met. Brian Teagle "brings the cool." JA: Everyone at Game Knight is interesting. If I had to say, it would probably be my estranged brother, Karl Appell. JustArts: Is the club an important part of your Brandeis life? JA: Game Knight is a huge part of my college life. It has shown me that people can get together, have fun, and be creative without needing—or wanting—to be forced to do so or be herded like cats. KG: It absolutely is, I would not have met half of the awesome people or had a tenth as much fun at Brandeis without it. BT: It is how I spend my Friday nights, and I would not have it any other way. JG: I love everyone in Game Knight—we're all individuals. Sometimes I look around and I wonder how I got involved with this group, and I marvel that I'm surrounded by my best friends—all 20 of 'em. We're all there for each other, to give hugs and support and encouragement. That's really what Game Knight's about, the freedom to be yourself. No judgments, just fun.
