The Indy is doing the Time Warp...again. Cover Design by ANNA PAPP & ELOISE LYNTON
VOL. XLV, NO. 10
CONTENTS FORUM 3 Carpe Annum NEWS 4 Gail Force One 5 Toy Soldiers 5 High Heels + Good Feels ARTS 6 Hebrew Script 6 Documentor ACF Accessible 7 Reader's Block 7 You Only See Drake once 8 Because I Would Not Stop For Him, Tech Kindly Stopped For Me 9 More Than The Funnies 10 Experimental Theatre SPORTS 11 Crouch, Touch, Set, Win! 12 Red, the Blood of Angry Men As Harvard College's weekly undergraduate newsmagazine, the Harvard Independent provides in-depth, critical coverage of issues and events of interest to the Harvard College community. The Independent has no political affiliation, instead offering diverse commentary on news, arts, sports, and student life. For publication information and general inquiries, contact President Angela Song (president@harvardindependent. com) or Managing Editor Sayantan Deb (managingeditor@ harvardindependent.com). Letters to the Editor and comments regarding the content of the publication should be addressed to Editor-in-Chief Christine Wolfe (editorinchief@harvardindependent. com). For email subscriptions please email president@ harvardindependent.com. The Harvard Independent is published weekly during the academic year, except during vacations, by The Harvard Independent, Inc., Student Organization Center at Hilles, Box 201, 59 Shepard Street, Cambridge, MA 02138.
President Editor-in-Chief Managing Editor Director of Production
Angela Song '14 Christine Wolfe '14 Sayantan Deb '14 Miranda Shugars '14
News and Forum Editor Arts Editor Sports Editor Design Editor Graphics Editor Associate News Editor Associate Forum Editor Associate Arts Editor Associate Design Editor
Whitney Gao '16 Curtis Lahaie '15 Sean Frazzette '16 Alex Chen '16 Anna Papp '16 Milly Wang '16 Kalyn Saulsberry '14 Sarah Rosenthal '15 Travis Hallett '14
Cartoonist John McCallum '16 Illustrator Eloise Lynton '17 Business Manager Albert Murzakhanov '16 Columnists Aditya Agrawal '17 Michael Feehly '14 Jackie Leong '16 Andrew Lin '17 Madi Taylor '16 Shreya Vardhan '17 Senior Staff Writers Michael Altman '14 Meghan Brooks '14 Whitney Lee '14 Staff Writers Manik Bhatia '16 Xanni Brown '14 Terilyn Chen '16 Lauren Covalucci '14 Clare Duncan '14 Caroline Gentile '17 Gary Gerbrandt '14 Travis Hallett '14 Shaquilla Harrigan '16 Yuqi Hou '15 Cindy Hsu '14 Theodora Kay '14 Eldo Kim '16 Chloe Li '16 Dominique Luongo '17 Orlea Miller '16 Albert Murzhakanov '16 Carlos Schmidt '15
Getting the Most out of Harvard
A senior focuses on the here and now.
By KALYN SAULSBERRY
hen I ask any of my Class of 2014 classmates how their year is going, their answer usually ends up being some woeful combination of job searches, grad school applications, thesis writing, case interviews, and/or fellowship essays. We in the Class of 2014 are all intensely and understandably focused on answering that stressful question that everyone loves to ask us: What are you doing next year? The question, for me, usually brings up an identity crisis, and I tend to give a vague answer of finding a job and going to grad school at some point — all while trying to sound confident and like I have it all figured out. This question brings such anxiety not only because I do not know where I will be after graduation yet, but also because it uncomfortably forces me out of my present situation. After all, I only get four years to be an undergraduate, and focusing on what is coming next seems to make me feel ungrateful for what I have right now. Currently, I have a grand total of six months left as an undergrad, and even though I get the occasional flare-up of senioritis, I have decided that at least once a week, I’m going to do something that is completely out of my normal routine of classes, papers, problem sets, my part-time job, and job search — something part of the “Harvard experience.” By that, I mean experiences that I probably will not have the opportunity to take advantage of once I can no longer claim the title of “Harvard undergrad.” Consequently, this semester I have invited professors to dinner in my house for the faculty dinner, screamed frantically in a haunted house on the Undergraduate Council’s sponsored t r i p t o S a l e m , M a s s a ch u s e t t s, The Harvard Independent • 11.07.13
attended lectures on the practical value of humanities classes, waved at the rapper, Nas, when he casually stopped by one of my classes, climbed a ladder to pick the last Cortland apples at Honey Pot Hill Orchard with my roommate, cheered on the women’s volleyball team as they defeated Yale, and sang in several Kuumba gigs — all in the name of trying to make this final undergrad year truly awesome. A common job interview question that I have been forced to think about is where I would like to be in the next four years, and while this is a difficult question, it is also valuable for me to look back on how I have spent the last four years as an undergrad. I think I would feel least fulfilled in May while donning my cap and gown if I reflected back on my time here and felt that I had not taken advantage of everything this school has to offer me. In a way, in my quest to take advantage of the vast opportunities at Harvard, I am attempting to reclaim the dreamlike vision I had of this school when I walked eagerly through its gates for the first time as a freshman and felt the weight of vast opportunity ahead of me. Naturally, over the past three years, walking through the gates and weaving my way through the crowds of tourists has become routine and mundane as I have done it thousands of times. But as I prepare to leave, I am realizing that I still have unfinished business here. I do not have an official, written Senior Year Bucket List, but there are still a few things I need to do (and, ironically, none of them involve the three things you are supposed to do before graduation) like go to a Celtics game, go to a concert at the House of Blues, hear an a capella group sing in Sanders Theater, visit the Arnold
Arboretum, and attend every senior bar and claim the title of Last Senior Standing. Despite my unofficial Senior Bucket List, to be honest, it is sometimes difficult to maintain my goal of “getting the most out of Harvard.” I find myself sometimes sighing and musing “I’m too old for this” when I am enduring a particularly potent strain of senioritis — oftentimes while re-learning geometry for the GRE or writing yet another cover letter. I try to snap myself out of these moments by taking a break from answering all of the tough questions that I am facing as I pick the next step and enjoying where I am now and the people I am surrounded by. I may not yet know what is coming next and cannot answer the question of “What are you doing next year?,” but I can control how I spend my senior year and hope that in five years when I look back on this year, I will be proud of the opportunities I took advantage of. Kalyn Saulsberry (ksaulsberry@college) hopes to check off everything on her unofficial Senior Bucket List by May!
Photo by Whitney Gao
When Everything Changed Gail Collins regales the house with optimism. By ADITYA AGRAWAL
She is the only reason I can even bear the New York Times.” That was how my proctor responded when I brought up the columnist whose lecture would be attending. That Gail Collins was a feminist I had could have concluded, but that she was a journalist with such reach and fan base — I never could. And so I found myself straddling onto a front row seat at the Knafel Centre at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Studies on the 22 nd of October to see in action the phenomenon that Gail Collins has come to be. The lecture, titled “When Everything Changed,” was this year’s Maurine and Robert Rothschild Lecture, presented by Schlesinger Library. It was on how the view of American women has changed so drastically over the past half century. It was in fact in tandem with Collin’s own book on the subject: When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present, published in 2007. Nancy F. Scott, serving as the director of the Schlesinger Library, introduced Gail to a packed audience of over one hundred. Gail has been a columnist for multiple publications such as the New York Daily News, Newsday and the Connecticut. Within six years of joining the New York Times as an op-ed columnist, she was appointed the first female editor of the Editorial page, a responsibility she shouldered for six years before she resigned. As somebody who has both broken through the glass barrier and is known for her outspoken persona, she comes from a good place to talk about the undercurrents that affect the way we view women. An incisive sense of humor was, no doubt, the most potent tool in Collins’s cachet of weapons. She commenced the talk by covering some of the peculiarly repressive measures that women of the 60s were subject to. She 4
gave, for instance, the example of a woman evicted from a parking lot for attempting to pay her boss’s parking ticket while wearing slacks. She also noted how women working in the postal service could enter the building wearing slacks but had to change into skirts before sorting the mail. 1963, however, was the year when the ray of hope began to filter in, observed Collins. With the launch of the Birmingham campaign by Martin Luther King, Jr., the Kennedy Commission’s report on the Status of Women, and, most essentially, the publication of Betty Friedan’s seminal piece of pro-feminist literature “The Feminist Mystique,” women’s rights and equality became an increasingly conspicuous part of the public discourse. Giving impetus to this initial spark was the extended civil rights movement, which was when — in Collins’s words — “Americans first became sensitive to issues of fairness.” Collins believes that once Americans are convinced of a thing’s unfairness, which in itself is an inherently time consuming process, change does not remain far off. Two of the galvanizing factors, Collins feels, were the advent of the birth control pill and the economic recession that shook the American economic establishment in the 1970s. The issue of children had been one of the largest inhibitors preventing women from pursuing careers and higher education. The birth control pill, however, leveled the playing ground to a certain extent by allowing women push back n motherhood. In fact, applications to medical and law schools went through the roof after the introduction of these birth control pills. Also, prior to the recession in the 70s, an average family owned their home, and one could sustain a more than decent standard of living on a single family member’s stipend. Devaluation of the currency and
increased costs made two family member salaries a necessary precondition for a family to maintain the pre-recession standard of living. The process of change was slow and flooded with roadblock, but it created and galvanized a generation of women who were not afraid of being laughed at. Women who chose to pursue careers over an early marriage were often termed “lesbian,” “frigid” and “incapable of getting a man,” but they pushed on regardless to get to the point where we are today. These women created a platform for the younger platform to simply jump off. Collins mentioned how lucky she considered herself for having lived through and witnessed such an incredible transformation. Collins spoke to a packed audience comprising not only of a large number of ladies in their 60s and 70s, but also an eclectic mix of young men and women. Her wit and panache drew several laughs, and the response was largely positive, but there were several dissenting voices too. A female alumna of Harvard College, who did not wish to be identified, noted that the talk was much “lighter” than the more profound, expounded talk she had expected coming in. As somebody who was admitted to Radcliffe College and graduated from Harvard College in the 1970s (as a result of the conflation), the alumna affirmed several of the repressive norms that Collins posited in her talk but said that she did not share Collins’s optimism for the future generation. As a present physician, she thought, the battle for women was anything but over. Do you? Aditya Agrawal ’17 (adityaagrawal@college) often wonders about the power of wishful thinking.
11.07.13 • The Harvard Independent
HKS speakers on child soldiers. By ADITYA AGRAWAL
Caught in Conflict: The Journey of Child Soldiers,” a panel discussion on the alarming proliferation of child soldiers across the globe, was organized by the JFK Jr. Forum at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government on October 21, 2013. The panel, moderated by Jimmie Brigs (author, Innocents Lost: When Child Soldiers Go to War), counted amongst its speakers Jocelyn Kelly (Director, Women In War program), Leila Zerrougui (Special UN Representative for the Children and Armed Conflict) and Ishmal Beah (a former child soldier from Sierra Leone and author, A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier). Beah, who himself escaped Sierra Leone after serving for over three years as a child soldier, highlighted that the term “child soldier” indicated not just the internationally fossilized image of “a boy with an AK-47,” but also children who may instead be carrying ammunition or working for other soldiers. He stressed the need for global agencies
to equip the local governments with the know-how to stem the recruitment of child soldiers in the bud. Beah also mentioned how several African and Latin American countries had signed regional charters that called for an express prohibition and criminalization of child soldiers, but once these charters had been signed, the same countries just went and sat back in their previous state of nonchalance. They never cared to integrate into their local law the documentation of how to battle child recruitment, and many of these countries had not even read these charters at all. He also highlighted the pressing need to rehabilitate these children, who otherwise face a very entrenched form of discrimination when (and if) they returned back to their villages. Kelly, for her part, talked of the plight of “girl” soldiers, which is often overlooked. From her own travels to the Congo, as a part of her initiative “We Came Back With Empty Hands,” she found that girl soldiers were often the last ones to be released
and faced generally a double burden: that of a soldier and of a sex slave to male soldiers. She noted how child soldiers of both sexes were, in general, characterized by starvation, misery and, abuse, not only by the enemy but also by the army seniors. Zerrougui underlined the painstaking work that the UN was undertaking to help the local government in building infrastructure for the rehabilitation of these kids and getting these governments to draft stricter punitive frameworks of punishment for the war-lords and others guilty of perpetrating child recruitment. She did accede, though, that the UN still had a long way to go and said that they were trying to bring the voices of the affected communities into the larger dialogue on the issue. This, she posited, would go a long way in ensuring the sustainability and accountability of the UN’s efforts to curb the problem as a whole. Aditya Agrawal ’17 (adityaagrawal@college) believes there needs to be greater spotlight on this issue.
A Chain Reaction Fashion powerhouse and social activist Kenneth Cole comes to Harvard. By WHITNEY GAO
Photo by Whitney Gao
The Harvard Independent • 11.07.13
hen I was going through my awkward middle school phase (which, let’s be real, extended way before and way beyond just middle school), all I ever wanted was to have something fancy to call my own. After years of monochrome outfits in tired basic colors all bought a size too big so I could grow into them, I waited impatiently for the day to come when I could own something shiny and new — something grown-up. And for me, that item would be a pair of metallic strappy platforms from the Kenneth Cole Reaction line. Now, I think it’s pretty fair to say I’m emotionally biased when it comes to the man, but there is a lot to be objectively said for the impression Cole has made both in the world of fashion and in the sphere of social action. And there are quite a few lessons we, especially as college students, could learn from his journey. Cole started out studying law, amongst other things, in college, but eventually gave in to his passions and his dreams. His big break, however, came as a result of purely his own innovation. “Great minds don’t think alike,” says Cole, and it does seem unlikely that another individual would have had the same idea he did. Faced with the challenge of launching a successful shoe business, Cole had two main options — both involving big showrooms and both very expensive. Determined to find a way around it, Cole jumped through every legal loophole he could find and parked a truck across the street from the Hilton Hotel where a shoe show was going to be held. He did it under the guise of shooting a full-length feature film: The Birth of a Shoe Company. They sold forty thousand pairs of shoes in two and a half days.
However, Cole also gives a nod to the value of hard work and determination. He said that the launch of his company would not have been successful if he had not toughed it out and stuck through the initial rough period where capital is scarcer than scarce. It’s that exact period that most entrepreneurs don’t get through, thus leading to inevitable failure. So if you have hope and you have persistence, you’re already halfway there. There are few who truly attempt to join material success with social activism, but Cole is one who does so with an unusually high level of grace and sincerity. AWEARNESS, The Kenneth Cole Foundation, specializes in highlighting issues of HIV/AIDS, civil liberties, freedom of expression, and disaster relief according to their website. Cole also does much to support amfAR, The Foundation for AIDS Research. (His next stop was an amfAR gala in New York City with the one and only Ke$ha.) “What you do is not who you are,” says Cole. “Your career path is not how you should define yourself.” Though that statement in itself is a bit problematic in its logic — if you happen to work for a non-profit, do you not define yourself as such? — the sentiment is encouraging. There should be something at the end of the day, whether it be your career or your hobby or your values, that allows you to champion the issues that are close to your heart. Life requires more than just material satisfaction; share and care, dude, share and care. Whitney Gao ’16 (whitneygao@college) wishes she had 40,000 pairs of shoes. harvardindependent.com
Dror Burstein’s Place in the Universe Award-Winning Israeli Novelist Visits Harvard as Part of the Israeli Law, Literature, and Society Series
By JOANNA SCHACTER When I heard the learn’d astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; ‘Til rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars. Walt Whitman
eading the first pages of Dror Burstein’s novel Netanya-- named after the town in Israel where he was born-- call to mind Walt Whitman’s ode to the magic of the universe. “How flimsy our existence is, how many conditions must exist and must continue to exist over the course of millions of years so that a single flower or a single pencil or a single book might exist,” wonders Burstein as he describes what a miracle it is that Jupiter exists as it does, since it is a trap for meteors that would otherwise hit and devastate the earth. Stream of consciousness is a style that Burstein employs throughout his short stories and in his novel, and serves him well to express the stupefaction he feels; the stupefaction that we all feel when we start to think about the marvel that is life on earth, and the existence of the universe. Dror Burstein was born in Tel Aviv and was trained as a lawyer. He gave up this profession to pursue a PhD in Hebrew literature from the Hebrew University and to pursue writing, and he has seen a great deal of success, if one is to measure that in the numerous prizes for literature that he has received. He now teaches at the Hebrew University, as well as at Tel Aviv University, and is currently at the College of the Holy Cross where he is teaching on Genesis in art and literature. The title of Burstein’s talk here was titled On the Impossibility of Writing in Israel Today, and he seemed to lament the lack of change in Israeli literature, and gave the sense that it is something that exists in a vacuum; a sentiment that he echoes in his novel, as he complains that plate tectonics and mammoths have no place in the literature of Israel. “Even when I say sun and moon and star, I mean things that happen to me” is the quote that opens Burstein’s novel, and indeed he is not just meditating on the phenomenon of the universe and the miracle of human existence within it, but also of Israel and Israeli literature’s place, and of his own. Burstein did not seem to reach a solid conclusion on any of these topics in his talk, though perhaps the answer lies farther along in his novel than in the excerpt of Natanya that was read in preparation for his talk. Nevertheless, even in the simplest interpretation of his writing, it is still outstanding how well Burstein articulates the astonishment that we often forget to feel in relation to the universe because of our scientific understanding for it, and the importance he places on meditating on how we fit in to it all. Joanna R. Schacter ’15 (jschacter @college.harvard.edu) is craving sushi. 6 harvardindependent.com
Crime and Hilarity in the Art World By FRANK TAMBERINO
he 2009 documentary, The Art of the Steal, is an artistic call to arms, like the blast of a bugle at the cold break of day. It is an invigorating record of recent history that unveils a great and atrocious crime the perpetrators of which are still feeding off of their reprehensible actions. The documentary tells the story of Albert C. Barnes, a physician of humble beginnings who, after developing the drug Argyrol to prevent gonorrheal blindness in newborn infants, amasses a small fortune. It follows Barnes as he travels to Paris in 1912, is educated by figures as mammoth in the art world as Gertrude Stein, Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse, and subsequently buys masterpieces for discount prices from rich men made desperate by the stock market crash of 1929. Eventually, Barnes finds himself with an armada of 9,000 pieces including 181 Renoirs, 69 Cézannes, 60 Matisses, 44 Picassos, and 14 Modiglianis. This collection of post-Impressionist artwork is arguably the most valuable in history, priced at over $25 billion. Dr. Barnes was a man of immeasurable taste. He saw his collection not as an investment, but as a valuable tool for education and refinement. He used it to establish a school known as the Barnes Foundation in Lower Merion, Pennsylvania. Despite the grandeur and renown of the collection, the mansion that housed these masterpieces and provided a priceless education to a number of students was not a tourist attraction, Barnes made sure of that. On only one or two days a week were members of the public allowed to enter the mansion, and, even then, Barnes turned away many critics, journalists, and artists, including none other than TS Eliot. Barnes had grown up in poverty. He was happy to break intellectual supremacy by allowing only a few humble, working class people to behold the beauty he was housing. The criminal aspect of The Art of the Steal unfolds upon the death of Dr. Barnes. Without spoiling the details, it involves the violation of Barnes’ firmly established beliefs and intentions by a group of businessmen and politicians who aimed to reap financial benefit from his collection. There is no question that these people broke the law and Barnes’ will, pillaging a precious sanctuary of art and education in order to achieve something base and vulgar. The documentary is a must see as an important vehicle for protest. Those who destroyed what Barnes had created were not only never brought to justice, but they are, to this day, profiting off of an outright theft, both literal and artistic. Three years after The Art of the Steal came the documentary Beauty Is Embarrassing, which chronicles the fascinating life and career of Wayne White, one of the most unconventional
and inspiring artists I have ever been exposed to. White was one of the principal designers behind Pee-wee’s Playhouse. If you don’t know about Pee-wee’s Playhosue, there’s really no way I can describe it. Look up “Pee-wee’s Playhouse Intro” on Youtube if you’d like to understand. For those of you who are aware of the surreal children’s TV-show that ran from the late 80s to the 90s, then you already have a sense of Wayne White’s character and artistic style. His work is bizarre, absurd, strikingly intelligent, and almost always hilarious. One of White’s trademark devices is word painting. As White explains in the documentary, he was painting elaborate landscapes with giant block letters plopped down in the middle of the geography saying ridiculous things when he realized that he could just purchase old, cheap landscapes from thrift stores in order to save time. Googling “Wayne White word paintings” will give you a plethora of examples. One of my favorites depicts a dramatic coastal shore with grey waves crashing against brown jagged rocks and a lone seagull navigating the stormy wind. Stretching along the coast, standing in dissonant defiance are gigantic block letters spelling “GOODLOOKINGPEOPLEHAVINGFUNWITHOUTYOU”. Several of the people interviewed in the documentary explain how at other art exhibitions, people walk around solemnly, gazing at paintings out of quiet respect or an attempt to connect with their deeper meanings. At White’s exhibitions, on the other hand, people are bursting out with laughter left and right. One of the best moments in the documentary in my opinion is when Wayne talks about how the critics, professionals, and intellectuals in the art world who are treated as authority figures discuss complex artistic mechanisms and painfully esoteric messages that only the trained and experienced eye can distinguish. He says that he doesn’t understand why people can’t just have more fun. He admits that he has been painting, designing sets, directing music videos, and building sculptures and puppets for decades and all he wants to do is have fun and laugh. White is an important voice not only for his creativity and undeniable originality, but also for his championing of comedy as an enrichment of art. He, much like Albert C. Barnes, would protest that art not only can be, but should be enjoyed by people of all backgrounds and intelligences. In this sense, while The Art of the Steal is much more serious in tone than Beauty Is Embarrassing, both documentaries contain valuable statements about the importance of art in the modern world and the shattering of the conventions that can often disfigure it. Frank Tamberino ’16 (franktamberino@college) has fun with art all the time. 11.07.13 • The Harvard Independent
Glasses are Mightier than the Sword Is reading an art?
Reviewing Drake at TD Garden. By MEGHAN BROOKS
By THEODORA KAY
hen is something considered an “art”? It seems like a title we give to the philosophical, the eccentric or the rebellious, particularly to actions committed by youth — we treat the accomplishment as a step up from the normal, lifting it higher in a hierarchy of what is more “special” than the dreary daily tasks. The arts follow an inflexible and yet hypocritical approach: so long as the skill is unique, it’s an “art.” If everyone can do it, it’s not. And yet, the photographer finds subjects to shoot at every turn, the painter sees beauty in a clattered desk, and the dancer could skip a step or two an call it a new routine. Simple, every day, monotonous tasks and objects that we overlook like the shadow of a fence, a stack of papers or a silly walk — suddenly, they’re “art.” What about reading? After all, writing is an art, though few may argue otherwise, because “anybody can do it.” True, anybody can write, but everyone’s writing is different from the other. A journalist is as much an artist as Stephen King — one imagines stories and the other reports the stories. What allows us to appreciate writing so much is not the fact that we can write, but rather how differently we do it from each other. As artists, we all seek recognition of the uniqueness of our abilities. The authors of the centuries, from Dante to Joyce, they all had different writing styles, tones, subject matter, and approaches for their works and they stood out among others because of those recognizable qualities. There can only be one Shakespeare, despite our best efforts to mimic his accomplishments. Besides, as we previously mentioned, if no one else can do it, then it’s “special.” It’s “art”…or so the theory goes. So: If anybody can write, then anybody can read, all in their own way, manner and pace, of course. However, writing is artistic because of its stylistic differences; reading is artistic because of the way the written word is exposed. Writing draws you in because the inked lettering cannot detach itself from the orifice of the paper or screen — you literally need to transport yourself or the object containing the words to your location. Reading, on the other hand, reaches out to the audience when your eyes absorb the lexis and you hear it “out loud” with your mind’s inner speech, or voice it to those that are willing to listen. It’s more musical and can be The Harvard Independent • 11.07.13
“Would You Like a Tour?”
interpreted at your own expense, whereas writing is more artistic (sketch-wise) since it focuses on the content and appearance and directs an exact image that it wants you to focus on. It’s simple to read, yes, much like it’s simple to write — or so they say — from reading road signs, to reading numbers to mouthing the non-sequential combinations of our alphabet that we call ‘words.’ But we all read differently, and this difference accounts for something “special” that we can call “art.” From the lazy reader to the engaged one, the art of reading doesn’t depend on experience or talent; it’s all about appreciation. We have become the readers that no longer value the content of a text, but rather the pace at which we finish it. As such, we don’t even know that we’re all artists just from that one ability that we all share and can manipulate to our preference! Most readers browse through the sentences picking out words that suit their mood, or they skim through the pages not caring about the words at all. There are the readers that read for the sake of finishing what they started; for reaching the end of the book as soon as possible and sighing in satisfaction at their accomplishment, for patting themselves on the back in congratulations for staying awake through the tedious process of flipping sheet after sheet, for convincing themselves that just by looking over the first and last sentences of each paragraph, then they’re done with the reading. The value of a text is worth as much as the time and effort a reader is willing to put into reading it. To read word per word exactly as the writer planned for them to be read, to attain the meaning behind the writer’s intent in writing what he or she did, to empathize with the content of the text, and most importantly, to understand the overall significance and lesson discussed in what you read without having the need to go back and re-read it…these skills all lie in the artist-reader inside you. The writer talks — he writes, he projects, he exposes and manipulates, but it’s the reader that clarifies the words and solves the mysteries between the lines. Theodora Kay ’14 (kay@fas) hopes you appreciated reading her article.
ast Wednesday, the biggest show in Boston was the sixth game of the World Series. With the Red Sox leading the St. Louis Cardinals 3–2 in the sevengame series, the city’s eyes were on Fenway Park. Across town at TD Garden, chants of “Let’s go Red Sox” broke out sporadically as the venue filled with concert goers whose loyalties were clearly divided between the name on their ticket stubs and the team on their jerseys. When Drake rose up from the back of the stage at 9 p.m. — around the fourth inning — it was clear that he knew he wasn’t the only game in town. He launched into his most recent album, Nothing Was the Same, dropping the first verse of “Tuscan Leather” and a few new emotional tracks before introducing himself to the crowd. Strutting from the top of the translucent ring serving as his stage down to the mic he spoke over a slow bumping beat, spun by his DJ working in the recessed center of the ring; he was from a place called Toronto, Canada, he was thrilled to be with such a great crowd tonight, and more than anything he was excited to be in Boston, especially on a night when the Red Sox were about to make history. As he expected, at the mention of the Team the crowd erupted; he promised to provide score updates throughout the show. The structure of the concert was designed to showcase the two Drakes — the emotive, sensitive Drake of “Hold On, We’re Going Home”, and the pumped-up, hands-cutting Drake of “Versace” — and play them against each other. Arguably, Drake’s willingness to delve into the sentiment generally reserved for pop differentiates him from his peers more than anything else. While he isn’t afraid to play that angle up — singer Jhené Aiko joined him onstage for “Come Thru” and “From Time”, looking and singing soft in a sheer floor-length skirt while he sat on the stage’s steps — he largely confined it to the first half of the show. Half-apologizing for starting off with slow tracks, Drake launched into the smooth, fast-rhyming lyrics that his audience loves. “The Motto (YOLO)”, “HYFR”, and “No New Friends” generated particular excitement, and when the beat cut in “Fuckin’ Problems” the audience shouted JayZ’s famous line in exuberant unison. For most of the show, the relative simplicity of the “Would You Like a Tour?” stage kept things laid-back. Drake spent most of his time at the front of the stage, occasionally paced around the ring in silhouette. Towards the end of his set, however, a circular catwalk descended from the ceiling and he crossed the bridge leading from the stage onto it, bringing him into the very center of the floor and then up to the balconies. He then spent the next fifteen minutes calling out members of the audience over a deep, thudding beat. “I see you in the green shirt…I see you in those Halloween costumes…I see you in that top box…I see all of you.” It was this segment of the show that illustrated Drake’s status as a teen idol, perhaps more popular with young women than with men. While the screaming, waving fans in the higher levels of the Garden undoubtedly appreciated Drake’s efforts to reach out to them, the length of this segment felt like a misstep; it seemed that he was more interested in being an idol than a rapper. cont. on page 9, Drake harvardindependent.com
Hyacinths and Biscuits / by michael feehly
All your verse are belong to us:
Harvard’s digital conquest of poetry C
omputers, websites, and emails are not often considered Harvard’s strong suits. Use of the my.harvard.edu course isites or the study card tool is normally enough to confirm that for me. And emails…I should enjoin myself from making any more jokes at the expense of certain administrators, since they have become so stale, and so many people seem to have forgotten the whole affair anyway. Yet there is good news from the digital frontier of Harvard — good news for poets and scholars at Harvard and across the world. Over the past two weeks, Harvard has launched two open-access ventures in poetry: The Emily Dickinson Archive and the first module of Professor Elisa New’s edX course on Poetry in America. The Emily Dickinson Archive launched on October 23rd. It offers users the opportunity to browse through a collection of high quality photographs of Dickinson’s poetry, zoom in on details as minute as the slants of dashes, and compare different published versions of a particular poem with the manuscript copy. This feature is incredibly important, given Dickinson’s history in publishing. Fewer than a dozen poems were published while she was alive — and those that were published were edited to standardize punctuation and capitalization, to conform more with the tastes of the time, to added titles to untitled poems. Though nobody knows for sure why Emily Dickinson refused to publish again after 1878, I think it is as reasonable a guess as any that such edits — mutilations — of her poetry upset her. Dickinson died in 1886; she had wanted her correspondence burned. Her sister Lavinia found her manuscripts, and decided against burning them. She burned, instead, with a desire to see the manuscripts through to publication. Lavinia Dickinson gave a portion of the manuscripts to her sister-in-law Susan; but she in turn gave another stack of manuscripts to her brother Austin’s mistress, Mable Loomis Todd. Needless to say, cordial relations did not endure for long. Mable Loomis Todd and Thomas Wentworth Higginson — one of Dickinson’s friends-bycorrespodence — published the first book of Dickinson’s poetry, albeit in an edited form. Mable Loomis Todd refused to return the manuscripts to Lavinia or Susan Dickinson. Alongside the Todd-Wentworth editions, Susan Dickinson and her daughter Martha published books based upon the manuscripts in their possession. It was not until 1955 and the publication of Thomas H. Johnson’s The Poems of Emily Dickinson that each of the poems and each of its variant forms were available in one place. And from then on, gradually, Dickinson’s original choices of punctuation, capitalization, and diction returned from beneath the standardized veneer. 8 harvardindependent.com
The Poems of Emily Dickinson were published by the Harvard University Press; in 1998 Ralph W. Franklin updated The Poems of Emily Dickinson. In a roundabout way, this electronic archive is the culmination of Harvard’s efforts to influence Dickinson scholarship, to lead the way towards a standard, canonical Dickinson text. But it isn’t the first effort to bring Emily Dickinson to a digital audience — The Dickinson Electronic Archives began in 1994. The DEA features more of a critical approach: it highlights Dickinson’s correspondence, literary criticism, historical context, responses to Dickinson, and digital exhibitions of Dickinson ephemera, photographs, and family history. It has drawbacks, too: few primary sources, and many critical sources under restricted access. In contrast, the Emily Dickinson Archive (EDA) features exclusively primary sources and is open-access (free) for all types of users regardless of academic affiliation. But the EDA is not without controversy. The bone of contention remains the question of ownership of the documents. The EDA displays manuscripts from the collections of Houghton Library, the Boston Public Library, Yale’s Beinecke Library, the Library of Congress, the American Antiquarian Society, and Amherst College. Of these, Harvard and Amherst own the largest collections but dispute the provenance and their rights of ownership. The Amherst collection contains the papers held by Mable Loomis Todd donated by her daughter Millicent; the Harvard collection includes papers and possessions given to the university as a gift from Martha Dickinson Bianchi, Alfred Leete Hampson, and Gilbert Montague. Ever since the publisher’s preface of the 1955 Poems of Emily Dickinson, Harvard has asserted “that the President and Fellows of Harvard College claim the sole ownership of and sole right of possession in all the Emily Dickinson manuscripts now in the possession of Mrs. Millicent Todd Bingham.” Mike Kelly — the head of archives and special collections for Amherst’s library — has been vocally disapproving of the direction of the initiative in the press. Only 539 of Amherst’s 850 documents are included because the archive at this point includes only poetry. Kelly believes that this choice “is a gigantic missed opportunity…the Emily Dickinson archive re-affirms that Franklin is the single authoritative source when it comes to defining the parameters of Dickinson’s poetry… but there are dozens of manuscripts that defy any sort of classification and problematize the current scheme.” Leslie Morris — a curator of modern books and manuscripts at Houghton and the general editor of the EDA — pushes back against the critical viewpoint of Kelly. Morris says that “This is just the beginning for the EDA, phase one of a project…to facilitate the scholarship, not make
the scholarship.” Whatever comes of the dispute between Harvard and Amherst, I am pleased to see the EDA in operation under an open-access scheme. It truly is a model of inter-institutional cooperation (despite disputed ownership of resources) that puts at its heart the best interests of scholars. I, too, see Kelly’s point that the leadership of Harvard in the EDA project has thus far served to reinforce the canonical status of the Dickinson oeuvre as pruned by Franklin and Harvard University Press; but I am optimistic that over time more content will be added to the archive, and more of Dickinson’s genre-defying works held by Amherst will gain a wide, engaged audience through the partnership. On October 31st the course Aesthetic and Interpretative Understanding 12: Poetry in America launched as an edX massively open online course. Elisa New — the Powell M. Cabot Professor of American Literature — brings her general education course to students outside of Harvard. Beginning with the earliest English poetry produced in North America, PoetryX begins with the poetry of New England, with poets who lived here in Cambridge, with books printed at the First Printing press in Massachusetts (the site of the restaurant First Printer, its name paying appropriate historical homage to its location). I find it very interesting and exciting to see this course happening. On one hand, it is a course from the general education program, a curriculum designed to unite the liberal arts with the concerns of students in the modern world; this is a perfect test of the effectiveness or failure of that pedagogic aim. Continuing learners and students outside of Harvard (or even the United States) will be more than guinea pigs — they will be like canaries in a mineshaft. Perhaps the fates of edX courses based gen eds can be incorporated into the feedback used to modify and administer the curriculum. A second aspect of interest is that this is a thoroughly liberal, humanities type course. As such, it will be more challenging to make fullest use of the educational and technological tools made available by the computer. HarvardX courses have the capacity to go beyond the iTunes U lectures or the TED talks that once were the most innovative educational ventures online. And I think PoetryX does that with its integration of multimedia text and video, and annotation tools. The challenge is to bring poetry and English courses out of the analog mindset of book, notebook, and pen — to integrate visual, historical, archival, and audio into one’s study of poetry. Imagine how fulfilling it would be, how illuminating, to hear a poet’s reading of his or her work, while on screen there are the handwritten original and an annotated, hyperlinked copy 11.07.13 • The Harvard Independent
beside it. Perhaps the most challenging thing is to make poetry exciting, to attract students. But maybe it isn’t — over 7,000 students have already signed up to take the course. That’s nearly the total number of undergraduates at Harvard. With this audience and with the tools of the edX platform, Poetry in America will be a highly valuable test case for the future of liberal education in the age of MOOCs. Michael Feehly ’14 (michael.feehly@college. harvard.edu) hopes the Emily Dickinson Archive decides to take walks outside the house, wear colors other than white, and enjoys the company of friends.
Drake at TD Garden cont. from page 7, Drake Nevertheless, Drake closed out the show with “All Me” and “Started from the Bottom”, the latter of which killed. True to the pacing of the show he left as he came, moving to the back of the ring as the lighting switched from red and orange to purple and blue, descending down the back stairs without an encore. While the show was good — Drake’s signature smoothness and smile did exactly what they were supposed to — its modest energy accounts for the biggest reaction of the night coming not from a deep drop, but from a Sox score: “6–1, Boston Red Sox”, he reported at the bottom of the sixth inning. The applause continued through opening lyrics of his next song. Although in other cities, Drake had opener Future join him in “Love Me”, “Honest”, and “Same Damn Time”, in Boston Future filled in during Drake’s breather, performing his two big hits and a few lines of “New Bugatti” to some enthusiasm. Likewise, before the lights went down, upcoming Canadian rapper PartyNextDoor generated thin applause as he performed a shy set while the audience filed in. Miguel, on the other hand, was more than welcome on stage as Drake’s primary opener. The black leather fringe on his jacket and mic stand whipped around as he performed a set surprisingly more rock than his usual smooth brand of R&B. Somewhat reminiscent of Michael Jackson with his pretty boy smile and frequent crotchgrabbing, Miguel let “How Many Drinks?” bring sexual innuendo to the point of the explicit. By the time he got to “Adorn”, the audience was set to explode. The bra tossing, however, was rightly saved for the headliner himself. Meghan Brooks ’14 (meghanbrooks@college) also got to meet Drake that night. He hugged her. Did she not mention that? The Harvard Independent • 11.07.13
All in the Details V
isual stories are only starting to recover from years of bad rap. Somehow we’ve gotten it into our heads that they aren’t to be taken seriously. In our heads we confine them to a few sad pages of the Sunday paper, maybe the dank shelves of a comic bookstore, mildewing away and probably forgotten. And if they do make the jump into the mainstream, they’re either confined to what we’d nicely call children’s cartoons or a blockbuster that wrings the story for all it’s possibly worth. Don’t get me wrong. “The Avengers” was pretty thrilling. But it was, for all general purposes, an adaptation – the story but not the art form. The sheer artistry of the visual story is often overlooked. Why? Perhaps it’s in the name: “comic.” There’s nothing wrong with that except that by uttering it I’ve found that I get automatically typecast into the funnies. And so occasionally I get a little fancy. “I draw a graphic novel,” I say. The reactions are, equally occasionally, hilarious, but they all sum up to a common question. Comic, graphic novel, webtoon, visual story: what do they all mean? Do we even know as creators? Comics and graphic novels lie at a strange hybrid crossroad that leaves in them the illusion of being a jack of all trades and master of none. They utilize storytelling through words, but aren’t literature; the visual aspect is like a movie, but confined to still-frames and not so thrilling. The art is nice but no Monet. Looking at the pieces separately and fairly objectively, this is what we get: works that are under-ratedly typecast to the side as the cheap and idle side to entertainment – “amateurish,” even. And true, if you – as a reader, or worse, as a creator – view a comic as some text on top of art confined to tiny panels, sure, the regard you put in is all you’re going to get. And I’ll admit, I once held that opinion as well, until one day I opened up a webtoon and noticed something I hadn’t taken note of before. The art was superb. The story was tight. But there was something about the flow of the whole thing that elevated it beyond what those two elements contributed. What commanded my attention was the use of white space – the way the elements were arranged, the pacing of the words and pauses. There was something organic about the flow that I had never noticed. There are many kinds of comic readers and there are many ways to read a comic. I used to be the kind who blew through the text and glossed over the art as a sort
of supplement. But that’s only half the experience. The art isn’t there because the creator didn’t feel like writing more words. It’s there because they decided to use a medium that moves the emotion and atmosphere to the unspoken. And the white space isn’t there because the artist decided to arbitrarily lengthen the gutters between panels, but because they are trying to convey a feeling. A comic is deceptive. It doesn’t spell it out for you, but if you zoom past one element in search of another, it’s like talking to a person without looking at their face. You miss a lot. The details only come into play in the heat of the moment, in the process of creation, and never before. To understand the intricacy of a graphic novel, you’ve got to dirty your hands, be unafraid to become mired knee-deep in the process. Things never before considered became pressing: the placement of bubbles. The shape of panels. There’s planning dialogue around the art, and planning the angle and shot of scenes based on speech elements. To achieve the momentum of proper storytelling, there’s a lot going on that people simply don’t notice. It’s not only the art but the flow of the experience. That’s the magic of it all. I have never seen another art form that utilizes so many disparate elements and mashes them together so perfectly. Text becomes part of the picture. And the pictures are more than just static poses, but moments in a larger scheme. While other art forms take pieces to form a whole, the visual story combines pieces and elevates the result in a sort of energized synergy. It explains why there is no form to the perfect visual story, and probably why they are so hard to define. I have seen graphic novels with stunning art but lackluster text, and the whole thing falls short. I’ve seen less than stellar visuals that combine well with the storytelling and make for a wonderful piece of work. There is no secret sauce to the comic. It’s not the individual pieces, but the ability to tell a story, and tell it well. So this is a response to all the readers out there taking lightly the comic, the webtoon, the graphic novel. Don’t just take a look, or have a read, or go for a skim. Do it all at once. And once more. With feeling. Take note of everything. Because I guarantee you, it was meant to be noticed. Jackie Leong ‘16 (jacquelineleong@college. harvard.edu) is working on perfecting the art of the perfect Photoshop speech bubble. harvardindependent.com
Shreya Vardhan | When The Curtains Rise
Of Inspector Hound and Creon the King
picked up Tom Stoppard’s The Real Inspector Hound and Other Plays at the Habitat for Humanity Sale a couple of months ago – I’d never heard of the playwright before, but the title and the cover looked amusing. I remain unconvinced that judging a book by such criteria is bad policy. It’s always fun to read a play – as a genre of writing, it lends itself more easily to the storyteller’s whims than almost any other. Depending on the desired pace of the story at a certain point, there can be a negligible or extensive amount of descriptive prose, and this spares both the writer and the reader the agony of perfunctory descriptions. Stoppard makes the most of this, clearly enjoying every line and unfinished phrase he puts down – the plays are succinctly and fluidly worded all through, and often witty. The descriptive parentheses can be as literary as “(Birdboot stands marooned and bemused.)” or as crisp as “(There is a shot. Simon falls dead.).” The play of the title, The Real Inspector Hound, is a simultaneous parody of theatre and theatrical criticism. It features two theatre critics, Moon and Birdboot, who meet at a show – a whodunit set in a country house – one evening. The way the scene is set up is interesting: the greater portion of the stage is given to the play within the play, while a mirror behind the stage reflects the audience, with Moon and Birdboot sitting in the front row. The characters of the play within the play might be oddly familiar to anyone who has read Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap – we are introduced to a pretty young woman, a beautiful widow, a fast young man, a veteran and a matronly housekeeper and a mysterious police officer all cooped up in a country house, with the shadow of an itinerant murderous madman known to be on the loose lurking in the background. A great suspense farcically unfolds, in which the first dead body is perceived by the players more than halfway into the play, when the inspector accidentally happens to shift the couch. In the meantime, a somewhat complicated love quadrangle involving the inmates of the house has inevitably led to plenty of “I’llkill-you-for-this”-esque exclamations, which have inconveniently all been overheard by the housekeeper; sure enough, she will have evidence to present when things come to a head. As the action on stage unfolds, Moon and Birdboot are somewhat preoccupied with their own concerns, which make them slightly inattentive to the play and almost entirely inattentive to each 10 harvardindependent.com
other’s grievances. Moon is absorbed with resentful reflections on one Higgs, his first-string senior, while Birdboot finds he has fallen in love with the beautiful widow in the play, and is wondering about how this might go down with both his wife and his current mistress (who happens to be the other young woman in the play). They are ambitious critics, however, both yearning to write a review that will be reviewed as having “added a new dimension to the critical scene”, so despite their towering concerns, they do not neglect their work. Every so often, they clear their throats and produce glittering – and extremely relevant – pieces of analysis: Moon: It is my belief that here we are concerned with what I have referred to elsewhere as the nature of the identity...I think we are entitled to ask- Where is God? Birdboot: (stunned) Who? Moon: Go-od. Birdboot: (peeping furtively into his program): God? Moon: I think we are entitled to ask. Things really start to get insane, however, when Birdboot suddenly finds he has become part of the play, and the scenes repeat themselves rather chaotically, with him replacing the dandyish Gascoyne. The rich mess this creates concludes with a denouement – a final revelation about the unidentifiable body under the couch – that makes one exclaim and laugh and simultaneously think: “That’s brilliant!” and “What nonsense!”. The Real Inspector Hound is a treat. It is hilarious and wildly imaginative, and as the author points out in his introduction, the play is “not about anything grander than itself.” Stoppard has some interesting things to say about his goal as a playwright, “‘The role of theatre’ is much debated (by almost nobody, of course), but the thing defines itself in practice first and foremost as a recreation. This seems satisfactory.” I’ve found that with this aim of providing stimulating recreation, plays often experiment more uninhibitedly than most narratives do – not every event needs to be justified or made sense of, and the story can venture into new and strange territories with fewer scruples. The audience watches the scenes on the spot in quick succession, with little time to mull over causes and processes, and you’re often more interested in what happens as a result of a sudden event than in how it came about. The experimentation that bends the possibility of events and ideas is one kind; a very different kind of experimentation
in theatre tries to extend and reinvent the form in which ideas – ideas that in themselves may be widely discussed, as opposed to shocking – are expressed and represented on stage. HRDC’s recent production of Antigonick, Anne Carson’s modern translation of Sophocles’s classical play Antigone, falls into this latter category. The story is a quintessential Greek legend, with the characteristic powerful themes and motifs: Antigone, daughter of Oedipus, decides to do against the law and bury her brother Polyneices, who rebelled against the state during the war and was killed. This puts her at odds with the tyrannical Creon, King of Thebes, who is determined to have her buried alive, ignoring the counsel of the wise Tiresias and the pleas of his own son Haemon, who is engaged to Antigone; the story relates the conflicts and consequences that arise as a result of this. The setting of the stage in itself was interesting – you walked in to find the larger portion of the theatre swathed in with sheets, with the seats for the audience floating in their midst. The angst and conflict that marks the story is felt in every gesture right from the beginning, where Antigone and her sister Ismene debate over their chosen courses of action while angrily passing a ball back and forth. The balls are among the symbols that return several times, in many of the more frantic scenes. (In one of these, where they come crashing down upon the Messenger, he is graciously provided with a protective helmet – this is one of the many instances in the play where humor arises from reinterpretation of the props.) Much is said with the help of moving physical interactions between the players: Ismene’s failure to save Antigone is represented by one final scene where one sister reluctantly lets go of the other’s hand; the picture of lost love is repeatedly represented by a falling Eurydice, with plaintive music playing in the background. Song and dance are interestingly incorporated into a number of scenes to represent abstract ideas, and one of the most memorable instances of this was a song that pondered the mystery of the passing of time, an idea which remains a preoccupation throughout the play. There is a variety of ways, then, in which theatre tries to experiment and go beyond what is ordinary, obvious or easily perceived- each has its own delights. Shreya Vardhan ’17 (shreyavardhan@college. harvard.edu) is certainly not unmindful of the delights of more conventional plays, and simply has to watch The Mousetrap one day.
11.07.13 • The Harvard Independent
Women’s Rugby wins Ivy League championship.
By SEAN FRAZZETTE
n N o v e m b e r 2 nd a n d 3 rd, Harvard’s newest varsity sport traveled up to Dartmouth for the Ivy League Championships. Coming into the game off of two dominant victories, the Crimson were seeded second and slotted to face three seed Brown in the first round. Earlier in the year, Harvard easily beat down Brown — last year’s runner-ups — 57-7 in a perfect example of how the sport is to be played. In the season before, the Crimson were bounced in the first round of the tournament by eventual champions Princeton, so the team looked to improve upon that disappointing end this year. This year, so such hiccups were to be found, as the Crimson sailed past the Bears once again, finishing with a final score of 31-5. With the first round out of the way, all eyes were set on the championship. After a grueling game against Princeton, the one-seed Dartmouth advanced to the championship for a rematch against the Crimson. The Big Green were the only team to beat Harvard in conference, powering their way to a difficult 10-5 victory on the same field the two would face for the big game. Early in the first half, senior flyhalf Xanni Brown received the ball out of a stolen Dartmouth lineout and took it in for the try, giving the
Crimson a 5-0 lead. Later in the half, senior scrumhalf Shelby Lin scooped up a ball the shot out of the side of the scrum and sprinted down the field to increase the lead. Brown added to the first half score by tacking on the conversion, and the Crimson took the 12-0 lead into the half. The second half was just more red, Rad domination. Senior inside center Cayla Calderwood, junior flanker Lenica Morales-Valenzuela, and junior wing Kaleigh Henry each added a try apiece, and Xanni Brown converted one more, with Harvard finishing the game 29-0. The defensive line proved to be unbreakable throughout the entire game. While Dartmouth’s momentum ebbed and flowed, the Crimson never once let the ball pass the try line. After the game, MoralesValenzuela, explaining the mentality going into the game, said, “During the rematch, the only things going through our heads were playing our game and focusing on our level of play and intensity. We set out a goal to build up our season and to make sure that every game was an improvement from the previous one.” Senior captain Brandy Machado added the importance the game had to the team: “It was amazing. Winning Ivies was really proof that we deserve
to be a varsity team. I don’t know if anyone was necessarily thinking that we did not deserve it, but we definitely wanted to show people anyway.” The victory marked the first every Ivy League Championship for Harvard. Machado, crediting much of the improvement to the varsity status, explained, “I think winning Ivies was also just a testament to how much being varsity can do for a team. Last year we placed 4th at Ivies and this year we were 1st. I won’t say that that would have been impossible before, we obviously won two national championships as a club team, but the new resources that we have definitely helped take us to a new level. I hope seeing things like this will be a catalyst for more teams to go varsity.” With the Ivy League behind them, the Radcliffe Ruggers have their eyes set on a new goal: Nationals. The last time the team won the National Championship was back when it was club status in 2011. Lenica, on the Ivy League weekend, explained, “Our mentality for this past weekend was to be fierce and devastating. We were confident that we could play the game we aspired to play since the beginning of season.” That mentality will have to continue as the team advanced against better competition. In their
only game against an out of conference opponent, Harvard lost to Quinnipiac 39-10, although it was the programs first varsity appearance. With Nationals a ways off — the first round at an undetermined location in April — the Crimson have a long road to prepare for this competition. Machado made it clear that the preparation would begin soon, though. She said in an interview, “Everything we do now is leading up to nationals. We have a little bit of a break this week, but that probably won’t last for too long. We will probably be hitting strength and conditioning pretty hard and leaving for winter break with a pretty intense workout regimen. Nothing is set yet, but I am sure our coaches are going to be setting up a pretty tough spring game schedule to prepare for the level of teams we will be seeing at nationals. We want to keep building and building up until then.” As this stage approaches, however, the Harvard (Radcliffe) Ruggers can enjoy their season of firsts — varsity and now champs. Sean Frazzette ‘16 (sfrazzette@college) congratulates women’s rugby, even though he definitely doesn’t know anyone on the team.
Photo by Angela Song
The Harvard Independent • 11.07.13
Clutch Crimson Kicking Harvard keeps Ivy League hopes alive.
By SHAQUILLA HARRIGAN
ecovering from last week’s triple overtime loss to the Princeton Tigers, the Crimson rebounded to take down the Dartmouth Big Green in another close match that was decided favorably in the last minute of play. Military veterans and parents of the class of 2017 sat in the stands alongside students to cheer the Crimson onwards to Victory. Going into the game, junior kicker Andrew Flesher and the rest of the team knew that Dartmouth would be one of their tougher games. “Everyone on the team knew Dartmouth was a tough and physical team, so it was not surprising that we were tied with them entering the latter stages of the game,” said Flesher. In the first quarter, junior quarterback Conner Hempel helped the Crimson start off strong by scoring a touchdown after a nine yard run. Soon after, Flesher, who had stepped up in place of injured senior kicker David Mothander, brought the score to 10-0 after he made a thirty-four yard field goal. Early in the second quarter, Flesher had a solid thirty-two yard kick early in the second quarter. The Crimson received two false starts and another penalty that seemed to somewhat break their scoring momentum. Dartmouth took advantage of these penalties and finally responded to Harvard when Dominick Pierre scored a touchdown. Stephen Dazzo scored for Dartmouth again bringing the score to 13-14, giving the Big Green there first and last lead of the game. Despite being oh-so-close to scoring another touchdown, the clock signaled half time and both teams rushed off of the field. During half time, several military veterans were honored, and the Harvard Band put on another interesting performance. Someone else in the band may have kidnapped a member of the band. No reports have been filed, so it was probably only part of the stunt. But I suppose time will tell. After returning from half time, it took Harvard almost ten minutes to notch another touchdown. After receiving a thirty-two yard pass from senior wide receiver Ricky Zorn, another senior wide receiver Andrew Berg scored six for the Crimson. The touch down in combination 12 harvardindependent.com
with junior tight end Tyler Hamblin two-point conversion brought the score to 21-14. Almost immediately, Dartmouth tied the game up with another touchdown. The 21-21 score was carried into the fourth quarter, promising an exciting finish for the thirteen hundred fans in attendance. The fourth quarter turned into a 12-minute battle for victory. Tied at 21-21, the Crimson and Big Green fans each rallied and cheered their respective team to victory. For a while, it looked like this game would turn into a repeat of last week’s over time showdown. But all was not lost for Harvard’s regulation chances. Behind a perfect thirteen play drive, taking up almost five minutes, Harvard found themselves in perfect field position for the win. Within the last 48 seconds of the game, Flesher single-footedly (pun intended) kicked a twenty-three yard field goal brining the final score to 24-21. Only four plays into Dartmouth’s last chance drive, senior defensive back Jaron Wilson picked off Dartmouth’s Alex Park to end the Big Green’s hopes. Flesher later reflected to me on what was going on mentally before he made his game-winning kick: “After missing the previous field goal attempt, I’m sure most people thought I would be nervous or a little anxious when I lined up over yet another potential game winning kick, but this could not be further from the truth. I had been kicking well the entire game, so missing one kick wasn’t deflating by any means, and once I saw that we were back in field goal range I just made sure I was loose and ready to take another kick.” As Harvard’s hero during this game,
Flesher was rightly rewarded as the Ivy Special Teams Player of the week for November 4th. Next week, the Crimson will hopefully defeat the Columbia Lions in their first away game in almost a month. Looking ahead to the game against Columbia, Flesher said, “I am very excited to get to travel down to New York and play Columbia. Last year Columbia was one of the two games I saw playing time in, but to be
able to take the field as a starter would be a special feeling.” Currently the Crimson is second in the Ivy League standings, right after Princeton. A win against Columbia would keep them with a solid chance at the title. Shaquilla Harrigan ’16 (sharrigan01@ college.harvard.edu) wants to know if she can send a member of the Gold Pants to wish her sister “Happy Birthday.”
Photo Photos by Sean by Xanni Frazzette Brown
11.07.13 • The Harvard Independent
The Indy does the time warp, again. But time isn't the only thing that's changing. We look on changes in the past and what they mean to the...