Strike Magazine FIU Issue 01

issue 01

DEBUT

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INITATION

TION

OPENING

Concept : Lidia Delgado Models : Veronica Giraldez, Angelic Bringas, Eugenia Scheuren, Natalie Blanco Photography/ Phtoto Ediotr : Soren Kippen Videography : Adrianna Barios Makeup Artist : Natalie Blanco Styling : Natalie Padron, Cesar Tijerino, Michael Legget 8

G NIGHT

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OPENING

NIGHT Perfection: The Evanescent Philter

Creating beauty through the experience of the imperfect lens that is the human perspective almost requires a magical filter to captivate a spectator’s eye.

By Stephanie Kopp

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he starving artist hopes the hecatomb compulsory in manifesting a sliver of one’s essence is enough to immortalize its already fleeting effects. The journey through this challenge, only known by artists who are defined by it, is lost on the myopic understanding of the world. Self-doubt travels throughout the process that is breathing a raw piece of oneself into the world. The glazed stage, with no premise of our artistic conception, finds us unvaryingly unprepared for their scrupulous glances.

The air is rich with humidity flooded from the frantic backstage. The oncebustling walls of the hallways have seen the beginnings and endings of tales that unwinded in varying directions. With origins similar to ours composed of nights guided by shaking hands laden with the responsibility of executing the demanding realities of the subconscious, with a daunting light. Only to find clemency in every ebullient step to bringing that evolving and seemingly evanescent vision to life.

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I feel my words becoming theirs, overlapping me, suffocating me with labels based on all the imperfections contained in that piece of my soul.

Vibrations of these insults, pretenses, overcome my body with frisson. As imperfect beings, perfection consumes the process varying in every step. I find myself daunted by my faults in creating the unreal and the undefined.

I strive ruthlessly for I strive ruthlessly for finding perfection perfection while while finding myself in the myself in the absence of its absence of its meaning.

meaning.

Perfection does not mean approval nor does it inherently call for likability. Yet, somehow it denotes a space for something to compare to.

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If everything were to be as I planned without fear, what would it be then?

The fragrance of orange seat cleaner flooded in the polemical whispers of the already uncomplacent audience, who tend to find themselves writhing in unaccommodating seats. The incandescent spotlight permeated through an opening in the center of the curtain bringing ablaze throughout my rigid body, knowing that this has every part of me. Blankly, I look up at the darkening world around me with a light indicating all eyes are on me.

Whispers in the wind slash my ears and freeze my lips. Their thin layer is now tattered into patches of veil and velvet scars as I softly open them to take a breath. A blurred myriad of sardonic faces burn into my already descending eyelids eager for the reveal…

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RED SHOES AND THE

BEAUTY OF

DESTRUCTION

Everyone has fallen into the void of selfdeprecation sometimes. In a world where everything becomes a revelation, an announcement of one’s seemingly perfect life, it is common to witness people fighting piercing doubts and immersing themselves in worlds of beautifully fabricated scenarios — which slowly destroy one’s peace of mind. This phenomenon forces one to turn into someone they no longer recognize, one who drowns in imposter syndrome, attempts to fit in, and become exactly like those who surround them. If this doesn’t happen, they fall again into the worry that they will never be enough.

This sounds deeply obscure, and it’s often this way when one reaches the extreme.

Despite the rarity, there is nothing more bewitching than witnessing this process on-screen; where every consuming feeling is drenched in glamour and quietly transformed into entertainment. Iconic films such as Black Swan, its inspiration Perfect Blue, and Whiplash portray these annihilating emotions in visually pleasing yet tormenting ways. However, there is one unique film that birthed the interest for this genre, capturing the pressure, torment, and need to belong, we witness in these stories (and sometimes in real life). In The Red Shoes, directed by Emeric Pressburger and Michael Powell, we witness the complete process of destruction of oneself for appearances; it feels hopeful and exciting at first, yet slowly turns into a catastrophic journey. I believe this is a film that mirrors these feelings stunningly. Many would expect it to be a black-and-white or

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chiaroscuro portrait, yet the use of bright technicolor makes the story feel overpowering and dreamy.

Aspiring ballerina Vicky Page stands in the background of embellished ballet productions, yet her scarlet hair prevents her from operating as a side piece. It is easy to tell that she stays behind the elegant and professional dancers as if she is looking at a mirror — visualizing the moment when her fantasy will turn into a reality. She fervently aspires to become the one performing these both gentle yet powerful routines reserved for the excellent ones in her field.

Vicky does achieve this moment, when a groundbreaking routine falls into her hands. She is now responsible for preserving the company’s prestige and overachieving status, which is what every dancer desires. We witness Vicky battling with her passion for dancing, as she is now forced to choose between fulfilling her dream or living a life alongside the person she loves. It’s a moment where we understand that Vicky is struggling to find a balance between her devotion to her work and her wellbeing — is she more dedicated to giving a perfect performance? Or prioritizing her human desires?

We dive into this roulette of desire when her illusion stops feeling distant. There is an overwhelming sense of achievement when this happens, and it’s easy for some to feel complete with happiness that dominates one’s body. Yet, as with most, the moment of selfdoubt arrives once, and one must again start fighting against it. Vicky’s passion turns into desperation, contrasted against her light and flowy, white clothing and ruby-red ballet shoes. Her performance is flawless to the naked eye, yet the darkness that fills her body slowly takes control. It feels ironic to witness this, as most people understand that this character (who appears to be perfect) is walking towards destruction, only that a romantic and fantastical backdrop transforms her demise into a pristine act.

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We rarely tend to think that eagerness could turn into something destructive. A need to meet the world’s expectations can feel overpowering, even though most people are more concerned with themselves.

For Vicky, one mistake triggers her whole existence, causing her to focus on providing an immaculate performance to the point where she absolutely loses herself. We witness how she lets go of her mind, soul, and body, once an example of her potential, but what has now unknowingly made her a slave to her art.

This turns into a beautifully crafted film filled with vibrant colors and detailed cinematography that capture the tender and tragic moments of the story. It ends up smothering us with a bitter taste of every stage of Vicky’s passion; where a perfectionism for her art becomes the sole purpose of her life. For its final powerful minutes, we are forced to witness Vicky surrendering to the power of her ballet shoes, an act that was dancing in her mind for the entirety of the story; showing how a once innocent passion became a lethal one.

by Ainoa Derrego

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Concept: Melanie Pujol, Cailin Rolph Models: Logan Bryant, Michael Fernandez, Diego Coviella, Cesar Tijerino Photography:Marla McLeod, Soren Knippen Videography:Vero Giraldez Styling: Nati Padron, Cesar Tijerino, Michael Fernandez

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Concept:Melanie Pujol, Nadia Ajirnia, Models : Veronica Giraldez, Mia D’Orazio, Nadia Ajirnia, Melanie Pujol, Cailin Rolph Photography : Ashley Anzorandia Photo Editor : Soren Kippen Videography : Adrianna Barios Makeup Artists : Emely Zamora, Natalie Blanco 38

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by Cailin Rolph

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Concept: Michael Leggett Mo d el s : St r i ke St af f P ho t og raphy : S o re n K n i p p e n , L i l i m ar i e Q u i n tal Photo Editing: Soren Knippen Vi d e o g r a p hy : Ad r i a n a B a r r i o s 54

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By: Ainoa Dorrego

“When Uniformity Overcomes Individuality”

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hat truly shapes who we are when we’re young? Many would say the beauty of humans is that we are all different in this very specific way; our minds and souls are defined as unique in their own way, fragrant with individuality that makes us distinct in the eyes of others. However, even though each person is special (though some doppelgangers run around the world) we can use fashion and our appearance to show our personalities in the most minimal, or extravagant way.

But what happens when we grow in an environment where this possibility is taken away from us?

Many of us have been in environments where uniforms are required, most often in a school setting.

The existence of these limiting rules caused students to feel lost inside an ocean of homogeneity, to the point where a simple demonstration of oneness can feel like an incredibly radical change. The impact of this small act of rebellion is portrayed in films, such as Lone Scherfig’s An Education, where the protagonist Jenny has a specific look that alludes to her responsibility and focus on education. We see her eventual rebellion once she begins going out to clubs and developing some unhealthy adult relationships. This defiance manifests itself in her typical sixties hairdo more aligned to Priscilla Presley’s style and the fashion scene of the year.

It’s a simple change that many would ignore, but for her, it represents being perceived as a young woman rather than a teenager.

In my case, all my childhood I was enrolled in schools where uniforms were required (a common practice in South America). At first, I didn’t notice how this prevented me from showing myself, but at the end of the day, being a kid means not truly knowing who you are yet. Once I began to experience puberty, every time that I looked in the mirror I saw my image more aligned to a “grown” woman, which awoke the urge to explore my individuality. This exploration could take place in a small way, such as letting my long, frizzy hair flow free, even if it was discouraged by the school. I began rebelling a bit more against the uniform guidelines that we needed to follow religiously. These were changes that would seem insignificant to the naked eye, but for me, it was a way of exploring my personality, yet in doing so I was terrified of being called out by teachers or my peers for not following the rules and appearing to be “different.”

By all means, these rules weren’t written (or at least followed) with any ill intentions, we simply needed to follow them. Uniforms were seen as a manifestation of decency, showing the beauty of respectability and coherence, and considering the religious message of the school where appearances were not supposed to matter, it just made sense.

The rules were fairly simple: no painted nails (exceptions were made for soft colors and french-style manicures). No dyed hair. No piercings. Only minimal

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jewelry. Hair must be up at all times. Navy pants. Black belt. White, Blue, or Beige shirts with an embroidered school logo. Black shoes. White sneakers for Physical Education. And another myriad of rules that didn’t feel as important.

These rules weren’t always enforced in an authoritarian manner, with teachers desperately running around with rosaries in their hands to make us fear the punishment for breaking the rules. Some teachers checked our uniforms during the first year, but it wasn’t a deeply common practice. However, at the beginning of the week, everyone would stand outside to do their morning prayers, and one could see teachers scouting the lines carefully. I experienced strong anxiety during these moments, attempting to hide bright-colored socks or my painted nails. Some days they would turn a blind eye or truly not notice (although I doubt the latter was the case). But other days they would be eager to catch any wild children who defied these rules as if their lives depended on it. We all knew when these days arrived, as we could see a group of girls walking to the office with flawless nail polish, and coming out ten minutes later with bare (and sometimes stained) nails.

Naturally, the reality of these uniforms led to many students rebelling against the guidelines, with everyone wanting to do something that made them different and find a sense of self in a community where everyone is expected to be alike. Girls would wear their hair down at all times, or wear the most fashionable and elaborated braids that encouraged people to over-analyze them. Jewelry became a hit, there were necklaces, bracelets, rings, ear piercings.

Others would wear the most daring and colorful socks that teachers couldn’t help but discreetly study before actually saying something. Little by little, everyone found a way to grow fearless, and some even wore the brightest nail polish they could find.

But the truth is, even though these were ten years of my life, I rarely thought much about it until I started recognizing it in the media. Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird and Derry Girls by Lisa McGee showed how this was seen in most schools that embraced uniforms and their importance. In the very first episode of Derry Girls, we see two girls make a promise to become “individuals” that year, which signifies trading their required forest green blazers for blue jean jackets. But after one of their mothers’ objects, one shows up without her symbol of rebellion and her friend refuses to be “an individual on her own.” This shows the anxiety a small difference can motivate in a person who has been used to following rules all her life.

But the film that made me begin reevaluating my years at Catholic school —which had taken a backseat in my mind once I moved away— was Lady Bird. This is where I saw the

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majority of similarities and the complex relationship one can have with this environment, which we believe we hate but cherish deep down. Lady Bird wears a blue-jean jacket, tons of jewelry, and has pink hair - completely rebelling against these rules. She explains how she feels trapped in the small city and avoids Catholic college at all costs. It feels almost like a mirror, not specifically of myself, but many people who have had this experience.

Lady Bird shows this complex relationship in the most relatable way for those who have lived it, Lady Bird rebels against these rules to show that she is more than a student, and has a personality of her own. We believe all the teachers are out to get us by enforcing these rules, creating a battle in our minds that motivates us to keep rebelling against these dress codes. The sight of these higher-up individuals following these rules religiously and reprimanding us when we tried to be ourselves, created friction and resentment that came back to our minds every time we wore something considered “different.” Authority slowly turned into a synonym for the enemy, yet those who quietly turned a blind eye and allowed us to break the rules became cherished and unexpected friends.

The negative connotation of uniforms is still alive, and it’s understandable why. It is something that doesn’t disappear after childhood, and it plays a part in erasing a person’s identity. As one puts their uniform on, they can wonder, why does someone else have the right to dictate what I wear? Enforcing them during and after puberty can feel deeply oppressive for some, seeing them as a tomb for their individuality.

However, the existence of dress codes in a school setting felt like something that everyone knew would be broken at some point, as you cannot prevent children from showing who they are, and school felt like the only place where they could socialize. There is a high chance the creation of these norms was a weapon against individuality and to preserve the illusion of a perfectly respectable and equal place, where everyone aspired to be the same. But the truth is that if anything, they became a motivation to preserve one’s respectability, where we refuse to be placed into a box, rebelling in the smallest ways that help us connect with our true selves.

So, does the oppressive nature of uniforms halt one’s chance of developing their individuality? If I am fully honest, I believe the answer can be varied depending on our way of looking at it. They can be signs of oppression, as we see in many settings. But considering my experience, when I see a school uniform I feel an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for those years I now cherish. They are filled with memories that might have sparked anger at the time that they happened but led to an eagerness to explore my sense of self.

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ARE WE

STUCK IN A LOOP ?

By : Johnathan Kopp

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reativity. The epitome of mankind’s inherent need to innovate. An intrinsic desire within ourselves to narrate our perspective is at risk. What stories are we really telling by repeating those of the past in an endless cycle? Art, film, music, fashion, culture overall is at a crossroads. Has the technological boom deemed creativity obsolete? With increasingly facilitated access to content online, much of our content creation instills a cultural Déjà vu. With iconic creative works continuously revived with adjustments to adopt contemporary societal values, one cannot help but wonder if this a la-recycled mode hinders cultural progression.

As children we watched space-age films depicting skyscrapers soaring into the clouds alongside massive holograms swarmed in the aerial traffic with flying cars trying to cut past each other. We all aspired to partake in this cultural spike with the expectation that creative outlets would transcend past those known in our childhood. Through this transcendence, a plethora of dynamic perspectives would redefine the arts at large.

However, a disparity between these expectations and our “modern” day reality is prevalent in the anticlimactic turn society and culture both have taken. This can be readily observed through the countless remakes of previously accomplished films and fashion collections evoking a sense of “I feel as if I’ve seen it before.”

The 90s and Y2K eras posed potential for style and culture for the new millennium, but what about the here and now? Why must we rely on what’s already been brought into fruition? While revisiting icons of the past and incorporating their influence into emerging creative works is unavoidable, there is a fine line between influence and emulation that should not be crossed.

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Are we unwilling to move past the momentous and groundbreaking achievements of our past to leave a truly impactful mark on culture after our time has passed?

It is evident that younger generations, such as Millennials and those pertaining to Gen Z, pay undying devotion to the recreation of aesthetics of the 20th and early 21st centuries. One can even go as far as attributing paramount commercial success and acclaim in the media to the employment of such nostalgic elements in modern creative works. While this may present an opportunity for brands and creative works to aspire to viral fame, it creates concern for what kind of legacy our generation will leave behind once it has been said and done. Will we be known for being innovators or ultimately imitators in the grand scale? This leads many to the question, “what has changed from those eras exuding ingenuity and dynamism?” The answer lies sheerly in technology.

Many argue technology has facilitated countless facets of the human experience, leaving more time and application of energy as well as resources to propel mankind’s efficiency past those known of prior eras.

However, with such facilitation comes indolence and, hence, peril. With an excess of smart devices to be found virtually anywhere, one must contemplate whether the myriad information flooding our senses drones out the opportunity to observe the world around us and interpret our observations through the lens of our own unique human experience, a vital influence on creativity at large.

The current distortion of creativity can be attributed to the increasingly commercial path social media has laid out for the modern-day artist. In a society that is exponentially dependent on online platforms for

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validation and to assign value to people and ideas, art and creative works alike have become centralized on pleasing online audiences instead of craftsmanship, originality, and innovation. Moreover, creatives emerging and operating in the current climate of arts-centric industries face the challenge of societal pressure to follow trending messages in the media as opposed to creating those of their own. While the innovation and implementation of such platforms facilitate the exposure of creative works, one cannot help but be skeptical of the excessive influence public opinion has over the creative process behind such works.

Reminiscent of the censorship in prior, monumental periods such as the Belle Époque or Italian Renaissance, the modern emphasis on commercial success significantly impedes the creation of provocative works that discuss controversial ideals and shifting values. This, alongside the insatiable desire to please the public as a currency for likes and follows, both compulsory in modern prominence, impede the creation of such content that could go on to redefine culture and contemporary philosophy overall.

A lack of both adventure and risk, too, are hindrances becoming increasingly prevalent in contemporary culture.

Not only are those producing content experiencing the backlash of this detrimental shift, but also organizations and individuals involved in the process of displaying

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such works to the public are as well. Take art galleries and collectors, for instance. Needless to say, commercial success has become an overbearing determinant in the selective process of the art to be exhibited in most galleries. With art consultants receiving payment for selecting works meeting specified criteria, galleries have adopted a standardized quality to their collections that echoes that of countless others. This is not to discredit the business facet of creative industries, rather to illustrate its repressive hold over the concepts discussed in modernday creations.

It goes without saying reflection is a prominent aspect of the conceptualization and production of creative works. Without this, the artist runs the risk of having external influences tamper with their final product.

With the rampant integration of technology transpiring in society, the necessary time for uninterrupted reflection is scarce, to say the least. The barriers modern society has imposed upon creativity with its overbearing embracement of technology alongside its over-commercialization are ubiquitous in the mirrored approaches to creative expression prevalent in contemporary culture. The employment of money and fame as dominating guides in modern craftsmanship will bring forth the obsoletion of authenticity and individuality. It is of the essence for emerging artists to take a stance against the dimming approach society is taking with its promotion of technological domination and embrace individuality in their creative processes.

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C o n c e p t : C a i l i n Ro l p h , Na t a l i a Finnis-Smart P ho t og raphy : Marl a McL e o d V i d e o g r a p h y : Ve r o n i c a G i r a l d e z S t y l i n g : Na t a l i e P a d r o n , M a r l a McLeod H a i r : Jo s e D e alva re M a ke u p : Na t a l i e B l a n c o Mo d el s : A l l i s o n Jo n , Vi a ney L a d r ó n , Na t a l i e P a d r o n , K a t r i n a Solares 68

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The elusive, metamorphic illusion of perfection is one that we find ourselves chasing with desperation in the revelation of our arabesque creative rhythm.

Concept:Lidia Delgado Photography: S oren Knippen Videogra phy: Adr iana Bar r ios Styling: Natalie Padron, Cesar Tijer ino, Michael Legget Ma keu p: Na ta lie Blanco M o d e l s : M i ch a e l L e gge t, Ce s a r Ti j e r i no, Jennifer S olares , Johna than Kopp, S tephanie Kopp 77

Where only time deceives us, tantalizing us, to think that somehow we have captured it in our hands momentarily before then again dissipating back in the wind. Prior to an opening night, only can we place an intrinsic value on how we brought life to the materials and time that could, realistically, be used elsewhere. Only in the eyes of the knave, does one not worry about mimetic subtleties found in the quintessence which is inherent to underlying themes.

Yesterday’s insatiable impulse for perfection that caused drudgery in the flourishing of expression frees itself from its calculated constraints by evolving into inspiration.

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Flourishing, hearing whispers of doubt eventually creates confidence for those whose passion is their all.

The self-inflicted pain in an artist’s pursuit of perfection brings upon clouts of uncertainty in the disarray inherent in the rampant delusions of conceptualization.

Ruminations of that night and the feeling of the opening of curtains still obliterates my surroundings, leaving me and my passion in a suspended state of unity on the very edge of oblivion entranced by the promises of my potential and threatened by the abyss of my inadequacy. I’ve never felt so naked and alive, with every exhilarating movement I became more free-flowing. b y S tmy e p h forehead, anie Kopp Beads of sweat adorning

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Beads of sweat adorning my forehead, nothing reminding me I’m alive but this.

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