The Movies Are Opera’s Newest Frontier
Renée Fleming. Joyce DiDonato. Kelli O’Hara.
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Renée Fleming. Joyce DiDonato. Kelli O’Hara.
A midnight blue paints the sky and streetlights adorn unassuming buildings, casting a soft glow on those passing by. This painted landscape is tranquil and uncomplicated—it could be any downtown suburban street. But in reality, it’s a dreamscape of Anna Hoppel’s (C ‘23) conception—incredibly real, yet entirely fictitious.
Mark Kocent (C ‘82, GCP ‘91, GFA ‘91) fell for Penn’s gargoyles when they called him a jackass.
As the 59th Venice Biennale announces its 2022 theme, “The Milk of Dreams," the upward trend of surreal representations becomes explicit in today’s post–pandemic art world. Living in a time of uncertainty and unknown, magical stories that go beyond logic allow us to suspend our notion of disbelief. Over spring break, I visited New York and checked out several of its museums and galleries that present novel, surreal narratives.
Hands, generally speaking, are the bane of an artist’s existence. Anyone with experience drawing from anatomy knows why: Between five fingers, as many fingernails, and a smattering of knuckles, even the most practiced artists easily lose patience. Yet, Auguste Rodin goes against the grain. “I have always,” declares the famed French sculptor, “had an intense passion for the expression of the human hands.” The Rodin Museum’s latest exhibition delves into his lifelong fascination with that most troublesome body part.
The morning of February 25, after a restless night for the world, a pencil portrait of Fyodor Dostoevsky leans against the brick wall of the Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts lobby. Dostoevsky was exiled in a Russian prison for being a force of liberal thought and social freedom. Although a century before Vladimir Putin came to power, Dostoevsky's fate, captured in a portrait, is one that's still haunting today. In a similar act of chronological compression, Mark Stockton’s exhibition, 100 People, brings subjects that are generations apart only inches away from one another.
Reading is for nerds. Or is it? Recently, it seems like reading is for comfy sweater–wearing trendsetters who love spilling spicy details about their favorite must–read books. On TikTok, enjoying books has gained a massive cult following as users around the world build a community over their shared interest in reading.
"Once upon a time there was a railroad line / Don't ask where, brother, don't ask why / It was the road to Hell / It was hard times"—these seemingly unspirited lyrics are sung in an extremely cheerful, uplifting tone as those singing them clap and dance on the stage. It's a fascinating contradiction.
Most of women’s history is hidden in plain sight. From an unmarked painting in the background of your study session to the sidewalk you walk on to class, the souls of women linger throughout Penn. The art across campus tells a chronicle of women’s invention that has become invisible over the years. Explore these ten pieces from Woodland Walk to the Penn’s Women's Center – all either created by female artists and architects or honoring female figures in Philadelphia’s history.
When we make art, we tend to focus on the art itself, never the space where it was created.
The quickest connection people make when attempting to validate the art of hip–hop is to compare it to poetry, or more specifically, spoken word. But no genre of Black music needs to be validated, as Black musicians and artists influenced and created the roots of most popular American culture. Either way, when I think of poetry, I think of love songs. Considering a ballad is a form of verse set to music, described as a narrative poem or song, the connection between verse form, love, and music seems clear–cut. Being cautious to not reduce R&B to merely poetry with music behind it, and taking into account the complexities of the genre, there is something to be gained by exploring the lyrics of Summer Walker’s Still Over It for their poetic significance, especially considering her rocky relationship with the music producer London on da Track, and therefore perhaps to the music itself.
After graduating from Penn with a degree in Economics, getting her Masters of Public Administration, and working in corporate America for years, Airea D. Matthews finally began to actualize her deep-seated passion for poetry. Looking back on her life, Matthews knew this love was always within her, from the book of 17th–century poems she used to peruse as a child to the Toni Morrison novels she read in college, all the way to the slam poems she performed at her friend’s café during graduate school. “You nurture your passions, you don’t have to force them,” she says. “The sweet entity that poetry is stayed there, even when I was ignoring it and didn’t know it was a big part of my life.” Now, as the newest Poet Laureate of Philadelphia, Matthews strives to spread her love of the art form to the city.
There’s no denying it: It’s been a rough year. From lockdown blues, to stateside political upheavals, to an escalating climate crisis, we’ve had to learn to weather the challenges as they come. In the face of all this gloominess and uncertainty, it’s no wonder that so much recent academic research has a pessimistic bent. The past year has seen a spate of research on darker subjects like death, decay, illness, and depression by prominent scholars—all against the backdrop of recent trends towards doomsaying and reactionary rhetoric in and outside of academia. Pundits all across the board sound the death knell for democracy, civil liberties, and even basic human decency. Whoever you listen to, one thing is clear: the world as we know it is ending. But in the current moment of dystopian thinking, one scholar’s work stands apart from the crowd.
Aesthetics, aesthetics, aesthetics. It's one of the first words that comes to mind when we talk about what makes HBO's Euphoria unique. That, alongside "glitter," "skimpy outfits," "graphic eyeliner," "drugs," and "partying." Anyone wearing an I.AM.GIA set, rhinestone makeup, or fun hairstyles is now said to have a Euphoria aesthetic. We toss the word around, loosely understanding it as embodying the style of a given piece of media or work of art, but formally, aesthetics is actually a philosophical discipline: the study of beauty and taste.
This past year had us considering a potential addition to the list of long–haul COVID–19 symptoms: existential despair. In yet another year marked by isolation, all of us felt the temptation to curl up in bed and disappear at some point. Luckily, in our darkest moments, we had books to keep us company.
Terry McMillan achieved national attention with her third book, Waiting to Exhale, in 1992. It was a huge success, remaining on The New York Times bestseller list for several months. When crafting up her characters—four single Black women in Arizona in the '80s—McMillan couldn’t have foreseen social media or a global pandemic, let alone manifestation TikTok. Even so, McMillan’s novel reveals how social expectations placed on Black women prevent them from taking part in the relationships that they are taught to aspire to. Andin the 30 years since the novel's release, these societal expectations and aspirational relationships have only gotten harder to reach.
In their spectacular fall semester show “Vogue,” Arts House Dance Company proved just how well they can strike a balance between high fashion and high passion. The show, which took place at the Iron Gate Theater on Nov. 12 and 13, consisted of 12 different dances—each choreographed and performed by different combinations of the 19 member company. For upperclassmen, the show marked the first time they were able to perform together onstage for an audience since fall 2019, and for sophomores and first years, it was their first time ever. The company tapped into its impressive arsenal, utilizing a myriad of styles, techniques, and tempos and receiving a well–deserved standing ovation by the end of the night.
“I like how you can transcend the bounds of your own consciousness by stepping into someone else's perspective,” Emma Blum* (C ‘23) says, her eyes sparkling with passion as she explains her love for writing. She describes her young self as a “nerdy kid,” always reading and writing while her friends played handball during recess. While her creative inspirations have evolved from J.K. Rowling and John Green to George Saunders and Hanya Yanagihara with age, Emma’s love for prose hasn’t wavered. Nowadays, an English major with an impressive list of awards and accolades in her back pocket, she has clearly matured as a writer, but it's obvious she's still the same nerdy kid at heart.
Students are huddling in Stommons, heaters are on full blast in all the dorms, and Locust is swarming with Canada Goose—it’s official: Winter is upon us. If you’re yearning for a little cheer in the long, cold weeks ahead, look no further than Philly’s local art establishments. Take a peek inside the back catalogue for our favorite seasonal picks from the Barnes, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and our very own Penn Museum.
On October 28, 2021, The Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts debuted its new retrospective of American feminist painter Joan Semmel, entitled Joan Semmel: Skin in the Game. The first such display of Semmel's work in her six–decade career, the exhibit openly brandishes an erotic abstraction that offers a candid look at the female body, disputing the male gaze.