August 28, 2014

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R VOLUME 16, ISSUE 1

AUGUST 28, 2014

Local coffee shop faces threat of closure Learn about the campaign to save it on page 4

Rauschenberg exhibit moves art into conversation Learn more about the relationships on display on page 3

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Katie Fernelius................... the future Gary Hoffman..............................here Drew Haskins........................... basic Stephanie Wu...........................reality Izzi Clark................................... black

recess Audiences of solo piano performances from jazz masters have come to expect a degree of avant-garde extravagance.

Last spring, I realized this while waiting for Chick Corea to perform his set in Baldwin auditorium. The concert promised to be part music, part performance art, and entirely self- indulgent.

“I’m surprised to see that people your age are into this kind of music,” an elderly woman to my right commented.

I smiled, making conversation to back my apparently unexpected love of the art form. With more audacity, though, I may have mirrored her sentiments of surprise back at her.

She, along with, quite frankly, most of the audience, was older than my parents.

I would have expected people of their age to find a traditional big band with lots of singing more enjoyable than the abstract soundscape that Chick would soon be sculpting. In retrospect, it was somewhat inconsiderate of me to feel this way, since myself and most of those I know who are into jazz enjoy almost all subgenres of the art form.

Despite the subtle insult to my generation and my mental reaction, I continued the conversation, appreciating the chance to talk with someone who I otherwise would never have met. As the conversation progressed I felt more connected to everyone in the room, imagining a similar love for the music in every stranger around me. Music’s ability to bring people together and create a sense of community is obvious to anyone who has ever appreciated a piece of art. We talked about how we heard of the concert. We reminisced on how we were first introduced to the music. We traded favorite albums.

I told her mine was “Return to Forever,” while she said hers was “Children’s Songs.” Although at the time her choice

surprised me, I now realize the sense of it. “Children’s Songs” is a group of solo piano works meant to evoke a sense of innocence and naiveté in its simplicity.

It most likely gave my elderly friend a touch of old youth. Similarly, my choice of a favorite album became more obvious as well. The edgy, dark “Return to Forever” became the perfect choice for a high school kid yearning to be cool and sophisticated.

Thinking back on this conversation, the auditorium in my memory degrades from a concert hall to a costume party, with each guest pulling different traits from the music to wear as masks, hats, and capes. The music becomes a means of enhancing oneself instead of a way to connect with others. Sure, relating with others might be easier for a time, but how much is real and how much is feigned? Can the mask become permanent? And if it can, is it truly part of the individual?

Existential questions of human personality aside, there is one artist who can very strongly relate to permanent pieces of clothing. Rapper and producer MF DOOM wears a trademark mask in the style of Doctor Doom from the Fantastic Four comic strip. Because he is very rarely seen without the mask, fans joke that he never takes it off. The mask is arguably as much of his persona as his music.

As if to prove this point, he is infamous for sending out imposters at his shows. Surprisingly, this aspect of performance art is lost on some fans who pay to see MF DOOM. In retort, though, DOOM argues that if the guy on stage wearing the mask lip-syncs well enough, then the audience can not tell the difference. As a result, he fits the DOOM persona. If the audience came for the music, they should be happy.

But the audience at DOOM shows,

The Chronicle like that of Chick Corea concerts, doesn’t pay solely for the music. They come out to be close to the performer whose music they love in order to experience his or her personality. For instance, in between songs at the piano concert, Chick asked the crowd if we’d like to hear some John Coltrane. Nodding eagerly, the audience waited for an interesting, original, thought-provoking interpretation of a Coltrane classic. Instead, Chick held his phone up to the microphone and played a Coltrane studio recording out of its thin, metallic speaker. People pay upwards of one hundred dollars for quality material like that.

Still, musicians are performers, and it’s unclear whether the personal nuances of their shows are part of their everyday traits or simply another costume.

Likewise, after choosing and wearing their favorite pieces of music for long enough, listeners may not be able to tell where their true self ends and the tailored persona begins. The mask might be indistinguishable from an extension of their face.

At the end of the concert, Chick invited the audience to join him in song.

At his direction, every section of the audience sang a different note of a chord while he played along. The voices joined.

Although the audience had a good sense of pitch, the majority were not singers.

The sound was raw and plain, as if it was some strange, uninvited reflection of the audience members’ core. Chick didn’t mind; he played through the cacophony. The auditorium became one, with the traits of the piano and voice being combined into a primal, surreal costume that was quickly donned by all.

The legitimacy of the persona held no import. It was beautiful, and that was all.

- Gary Hoffman

The Chronicle

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Rauschenberg exhibit at Nasher spurs unexpected conversations

By Stephanie Wu THE CHRONICLE

Fundamentally built upon relationships, Rauschenberg’s works invite the viewer into an autobiography.

An extremely prolific artist who created works in a wide range of media from printmaking to sculpture, American artist Robert Rauschenberg (1925-2008) created art over the course of 60 years.

Most people know Rauschenberg exclusively from his “Combines,” which he began in 1954. Rauschenberg: Collecting & Connecting at the Nasher Museum of Art aims to show the public a more comprehensive range of Rauschenberg’s work.

“The show shows that the Rauschenberg we knew is just a portion of him, and now we get the opportunity to see much more,” said Kristine Stiles, France Family Professor of Art, Art History & Visual Studies at Duke University, who curated the exhibit.

“Rauschenberg is the guest of honor, but this is a conversation around the table,” said Stiles. The show is about Rauschenberg’s works in conversation with those of other artists and in conversation with the viewer.

“Painting relates to both art and life. Neither can be made. (I try to act in that gap between the two.)”-Robert Rauschenberg Fundamentally built upon relationships—between light and shadow, between personal and public, between faith and truth—Rauschenberg’s works invite the viewer into an autobiography.

However, this is not simply a story of his life. Rather, it is a story and a conversation that is fully alive and present, one

that is being created as fast as it is dissolved--a conversation among his art, the viewer and the environment.

“If you just go up and look at these paintings or these sculptures as if they’re going to tell you something, they’re not.

But when you see them in relationships and in conversation, then they start telling you all kinds of things; they reveal all kinds of things,” said Stiles.

Standing in front of Rauschenberg’s Audition (Carnal Clock), 1969, the viewer unwittingly finds himself standing inside the piece, the reflection of his body next to and intermingled with photographs of bed sheets, a woman’s breast and other objects. It is only when the viewer and the external environment come into contact with the piece is there a robust story capable of coming to life.

The use of a mirrored surface likewise manifests itself in Litercy (Phantom), 1991, while enabling a vastly different experience. Composed of phantomlike, white images on a reflective silver background, the images initially appear translucent and ghostly, as if not truly present. However, once the viewer stands in front of the piece, it becomes clear that the presence of the viewer adds perspective to the images, rendering them solid and real rather than mere vestiges of objects. This occurs due to the opacity of the white paint, which makes it seem as if the viewer is standing behind the signs, in effect creating a complete environment that exists both within and outside of the painting.

“Litercy…only exists fully when everything in the room is reflected in it,” said Stiles.

Besides the use of mirrors and reflec-

tion, Rauschenberg explored identity through a variety of other means, including shadows, fingerprints and text.

Found in the first thematic room “Black and White (with Red),” his seven-panel White Painting done in 1951 uses light and shadow to speak of identity and the determinants of identity.

“What Rauschenberg found most interesting about his white paintings was the fact that they actually have images on them, because they capture all the shadows in the room under certain light… and what’s around the white paintings becomes their context,” said Stiles.

“Understanding is a form of blindness.

Good art, I think, can never be understood.”

–Robert Rauschenberg The exhibition is composed of eight thematic rooms containing works by other artists, including Chinese contemporary artist Ai Weiwei (b. 1957), American artist Bruce Conner (1933-2008) and “unofficial” Soviet artists, in addition to the works by Rauschenberg.

As such, “each one of the themed rooms has conversation among Rauschenberg and several other artists,

and those conversations are unexpected,” said Stiles.

The exhibition gives particular emphasis to the works of Conner in relation to Rauschenberg, both of whom were interested in the idea of identity. Conner’s UNTITLED D-1 (INK DRAWING MADE TO BE HUNG IN THE SUN TO DISAPPEAR OVER TIME), 1965-71, as its title expresses, was created with a black felttip pen on paper, of which the drawing over time nearly disappeared. A turn of the head will reveal Rauschenberg’s Page 2 (Pages), 1974, a flat, circular sheet of tan paper with a hole in its center, made when he visited a paper mill in France.

In both works is an emphasis on the process of creation and of the pure existence of the works in their respective environments. Likewise, there is a sense of finality, in which neither work can exist in the absence of their environment and in which both works are the product of their environments.

“In every room, the viewer has the opportunity to discover very deep, very complex, very beautiful and historic relationships…aesthetic and social and political relationships,” said Stiles.

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The Chronicle

Durham Coffee Shop Prepares to Close, Gains Local Support

By Drew Haskins THE CHRONICLE

Intrepid Life set to close on September 7 unless it raises enough funds from the community.

Intrepid Life, a Durham coffee shop known for its advocacy of veterans’ rights, is scheduled to close on September 7 unless an Indiegogo-based online fundraising campaign is able to raise enough money to keep the store in business.

The local coffee shop opened seven months ago, and has since proven a popular venue for Durham citizens and university students. Intrepid Life was founded by owner Matt Victoriano, a former Marine scout and sniper who wanted to create a beneficial workplace for recently returned veterans. The Chronicle attempted to reach out to Victoriano, but he was unavailable for comment due to a prior engagement at the White House where Victoriano was named as a “Champion of Change” for his work regarding veterans’ rights.

“I heard about [Intrepid Life] from a colleague,” said Documentary Studies Professor Duncan Murrell. “Since then I’ve gone back fairly often.”

The store is decorated with military accoutrements and comfortable furniture; it sells a variety of coffee, tea, alcoholic beverages, pastries, and snacks.

“The chai lattes, both hot and iced, are heaven,” said M.C. Bousquette ‘T14.

Students and staff alike have expressed solidarity with Victoriano’s mission.

“As someone with a long family history of American military service, I am completely in support of and grateful for

the Intrepid goal of creating a safe space for veterans returning home from military service,” said Bousquette. “I overwhelmingly found Intrepid’s environment clearly to be a safe, welcoming one to not only veterans, but also those from all parts of society.”

Former veteran Murrell appreciates Victoriano’s attempt to “build a community that everyone can get involved in and support.”

Despite the positive reviews, Intrepid Life faces closure in a week due to economic difficulties.

In a statement made by Victoriano on Indiegogo, after a prosperous spring, business “stagnated to such a degree over the summer that my landlords have given me until September 7 to pay rent or close the business.”

Victoriano has started an Indiegogo fundraising campaign that has currently raised $14,595.00 out of $27,000.00 at the time of publication. The campaign will run until September 5.

“I am definitely donating,” said Murrell. “I’m going to give until it hurts.”

Long-time customers hope that the campaign will be enough to save Intrepid Life and further its mission.

“It makes my heart ache that Intrepid could be gone if the IndieGogo campaign doesn’t succeed,” said Bousquette.

As the days until the payment deadline count down, community members are imploring to others to help keep Intrepid Life in business.

“Go down there and grab a cup of coffee,” says Murrell. “[Intrepid Life] has enough meaning to enough people that it is worth giving it one last shot.”

BRIANNA SIRACUSE/ THE CHRONICLE