The Boundaries of Expression Are Being Redrawn
Artificial intelligence—the pariah of many creatives, a signal of the end of an autonomous and engaged human race that will transform us all into the people from WALL–E. Or is it?
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Artificial intelligence—the pariah of many creatives, a signal of the end of an autonomous and engaged human race that will transform us all into the people from WALL–E. Or is it?
As one of the only senior girl groups still active in the K–pop industry, Red Velvet has made a lasting impact on the genre. Title tracks like “Red Flavor,” “Dumb Dumb,” “Zimzalabim,” and “Psycho” display a sample of the group’s wide and expansive sound. No matter if the group showcases its “Red” (the bubbly, colorful pop side) or its “Velvet” (the darker, evocative R&B–influenced side), listeners know that the five–member girl group has one of the most diverse and creative approaches to the K–pop genre.
When someone mentions the Hunger Games, one’s thoughts likely gravitate towards Katniss Everdeen, the thirteen Districts, and the whole cinematic spectacle. More recently, the mention might garner a visceral reaction towards that Josh Hutcherson "Whistle" meme, or with the recent release of the series prequel, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, you might be reminded of the internet’s collective thirst over President Coriolanus Snow. (What’s up with that, by the way? I know Tom Blyth is hot, but has everyone forgotten that Snow is evil?)
Think about the last time you saw a woman over 60 portrayed on screen as anything but a passive grandmotherly figure. There’s Grace and Frankie, It’s Complicated, Something’s Gotta Give and, well, that’s pretty much it. But for older men, there are a myriad of examples of men over 60 starring in dynamic roles—just think how many Harrison Ford movies have come out since he turned 60 in 2002. Despite the one dimensional examples of older women on screen, most are still part of the workforce until their mid 60s and are active in raising families. Like anyone else, they’re falling in love, grieving losses, exploring the world, and occasionally running into trouble. This phenomenon goes beyond the screen. Surveys have shown that women feel not only devalued by society as they age, but increasingly invisible. This has real world implications, manifesting itself beyond jokey birthday cards to workplace discrimination. The Golden Bachelor seeks to change the lack of representation of women over 60 in media, showcasing the highest peaks and lowest valleys of life after qualifying for AARP while staying (mostly) true to life.
Frank Ma’s (W ’27) past three years have looked a little different from the typical freshman arriving at Penn. As opposed to the typical high school homecoming dances, proms, and stresses of being a teenager, Frank served in the Singaporean army and worked in different jobs before arriving at Penn. Now an eager 22–year–old freshman in Wharton, his life looks a little different than before. Frank now busies himself with new clubs, a heavy course load, and the newness that arises with being a first–year student.
“A work of art does not answer questions, it provokes them; and its essential meaning is in the tension between the contradictory answers.” Leonard Bernstein’s quote given at a lecture at Harvard University in 1976 opens Bradley Cooper’s sophomore film, Maestro. And, just like his first feature A Star Is Born, Maestro lives up to this promise. Both films are messy, complicated, imperfect, occasionally transcendent but nonetheless fascinating works that reveal the artistic obsession buried within their director.
Bundles of presents under a glistening Christmas tree. Keeping up with decades–old traditions. Quality time with loved ones. For many people, these are the hallmarks of the holiday season. For others, like myself, the staple of post–Thanksgiving holiday cheer is listening to hours upon hours (upon hours!) of Christmas music.
In her second feature film, Saltburn, Emerald Fennell, Oscar–winning director of Promising Young Women, sought to create a film that evokes physical reactions from the audience.
The titular Eileen, played by Thomasin McKenzie in the 2023 film Eileen, captivated the audiences even before the film’s inception. Adapting from Ottessa Moshfegh’s Booker Prize shortlisted novel, the director William Oldroyd was instantly fascinated by the complexity of the character of Eileen when he read it for the first time, and immediately knew he wanted to work with Moshfegh and screenwriter Luke Goebel to bring the story to the big screen.
If you’ve ever seen a Save Chinatown Flyer or the UC Townhomes sweatshirts, you’re looking at the art of Alyssa Chandler (C ‘24). Leaning on a couch in the Charles Addams Fine Arts Hall, Alyssa takes a sip of her Dunkin coffee. “It’s been a crazy week,” she admits, gesturing towards her senior thesis sitting on display as part of the Fine Arts Department as part of their Senior Thesis Preview Exhibition. On a table, Alyssa has laid out protest stickers and a hand–printed zine detailing the community’s current fight against the 76ers arena. On either side of the wall are archival photos and articles underscoring the history of Chinatown, including a handmade map of the Vine Street Expressway.
What’s your favorite movie? Odds are, I haven’t seen it.
It’s 11:59 p.m. on the night of Nov. 29, 2015. You’re bent over your laptop screen, anxiously staring at the Kylie Lip Kits website, waiting for the clock to hit 12 to get your hands on the highly coveted liquid lipstick and liner.
Like many other young women, I was raised with a seemingly unexplainable vendetta against the color pink. Since blue became my favourite color over pink at the ripe age of four, I’ve actively avoided anything to do with it—in my clothes, my room decor, my tech accessories. Pink has always been too girly.
Content warning: The following article includes mentions of rape, sexual violence, and murder, and can be disturbing and/or triggering for some readers. Please find resources listed at the bottom of the article.
Something has shifted in the sports world since September. The first time I noticed it, I was getting coffee with a friend on a chilly Tuesday morning, when surprisingly, one of the first things out of her mouth was an apology. She asked for my patience over the next few minutes, and for forgiveness in advance for anything she—or those like her—would say about how NFL football worked.
Everyday for lunch and dinner, Penn students head across the street from Huntsman Hall to honeygrow, where they indulge in signature stir–fry, custom salads, or pick up a meal to-go. Founded in Philadelphia by Justin Rosenberg, this fast–casual stir-fry and salad concept has become a “dorm room name” for Penn students since first opening their doors on Walnut Street in November 2015. Justin is amazed that it has already been eight years since honeygrow made its way to University City. “I've wanted to be on Penn's campus since I wrote the original business plan,” he says.
Tucked away in the corner of Dahlak Paradise in West Philadelphia lies a hall of mirrors, transporting you to another universe. Emblazoned on the wall is a fluorescent neon purple sign that reads “If these walls could talk … ” One brisk Wednesday evening in late October, an eclectic group milled about in that very room. The conversation came to a halt as the first note rang out.
As I looked around my afternoon psychology lecture, an overwhelming number of students had their laptops open to crossword puzzles. From The New York Times' daily mini-puzzle to The Wall Street Journal’s Monday puzzle to The Daily Pennsylvanian's acrostic, there seemed to be countless students trying to solve a crossword in between lecture slides. It was surprising to see a shift from the typical lecture hobbies of Instagram, online shopping carts, and texts with friends. Has Gen Z taken up a new hobby?
Sometimes, while I’m cleaning my desk and organizing the piles of unfolded clothes that litter my rug, I like to plop myself down in the center of my college bedroom and just think. That’s where I found myself today, surrounded by a mess of pillows and rejected outfits, sitting on the cold linoleum floor of my apartment. An old Joan Sebastian song plays quietly from my phone, a vent in the far corner hums with the sound of the heater, and I breathe.
The first time I met Katie I was livid. Seventh grade, my mom decided that we needed a guard dog after our house was burglarized. I knew this was a terrible idea. But nonetheless, I came home one day to find a two–year–old rescue pitbull, tail wagging and tongue out in the closest thing to a canine grin.
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