35 minute read
Harvard Today
For Lunch Chicken Vindaloo Red’s Best Fresh Catch Roasted Vegetable Panini
For Dinner Citrus Marinated Pork Fried Buttermilk Chicken Vegetable Pot Pie with Biscuits
TODAY’S EVENTS
HCA Winter Concert Paine Hall, 8-10 p.m.
Want to listen to some epic music from your fellow Harvard students? Come to Paine Hall tonight to witness works composed by seven undergraduate composers of the Harvard Composers Association.
A Conversation with Stella Chen AB ‘15 Lowell House, 7-9 p.m.
Come partake in a conversation with soloist Stella Chen before she takes the stage with the Harvard Radcliffe Orchestra for their concert on Sunday! Event is free, but registration is required! The sun sets on a beautiful day outside of the Harvard Kennedy School as students start to commute home. DANIEL J. KWON—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER
DAILY BRIEFING
At least 23 mayors who have taken part in the Bloomberg Harvard City Leadership Initiative have gone on to endorse Michael R. Bloomberg’s presidential candidacy. The program, started in 2017, has schooled some of the nation’s most prominent mayors, including Chicago’s Lori Lightfoot and Philadelphia’s Jim Kenney. In other news, Harvard added South Korea to its list of restricted travel locations as the University focuses on “contingency planning” for the possible spread of COVID-19 in the United States.
IN THE REAL WORLD
Coronavirus vs. Trump When news of the coronavirus pandemic started to circulate, experts urged President Donald Trump to deal with it as a serious threat. However, the POTUS has downplayed the virus over the past few weeks, and only recently called upon Vice President Mike Pence to head a federal response against the pandemic.
Milwaukee Police Identify Victims and Shooter in Deadly Shooting Five people were killed yesterday when a man opened fire at Molson Coors’s headquarters in Milwaukee. Today, the victims were identified by police. Police Chief Alfonso Morales also identified the gunman, but has not yet stated a motive for the shooting.
Government Survey Finds More 4 in 10 Americans Are Obese Have obesity rates in America waned? Think again: the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention revealed results Thursday from a 2017-2018 health survey showing that the American adult obesity rate currently sits at 42 percent, an increase from four years ago, when it was reported at about 40 percent.
AROUND THE IVIES
CORNELL A Cornell student was stabbed after intervening in an altercation at the Agava Restaurant, located near campus, during its Wednesday Salsa Night, according to the Cornell Daily Sun. The student, whose name has not been disclosed, was reported to be in critical condition and had to be transferred to a nearby hospital. Another individual who was injured in the altercation that evening is reported to be in “critical, but stable condition.” Police are still looking for a male suspect “in his late 20s to early 30s” who fled from the scene in a white Nissan Altima.
PRINCETON Earlier this week, around 50 graduate students at Princeton University’s Woodrow Wilson School held a demonstration to voice support for a pilot program that would institute a half-term distribution requirement focused on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, according to the Daily Princetonian. The demonstration took place near a room where a council of faculty members were discussing the issue. Princeton also recently announced that starting with its class of 2024, undergraduate students will be required to take a class that centers on Culture and Difference.
UPENN The University of Pennsylvania’s Board of Trustees has approved a resolution that will raise its total cost of attendance to $76,826 for the 2020-2021 academic year, the Daily Pennsylvanian reported. The overall figure represents a 3.9 percent increase from the previous year, when the cost of attendance totalled $73,960. UPenn President Amy Gutmann said that while UPenn currently has the second highest cost of attendance of all schools in the Ivy League, Columbia University remains in the top spot.
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY, EST. 1873
The Harvard Crimson
Aidan F. Ryan President
Shera S. Avi-Yonah Managing Editor
Emily M. Lu Business Manager
Associate Business Managers Jonathon V. Garzon ’21 Andrea M. Lamas-Nino ’21
Editorial Chairs Ari E. Benkler ’21 Isaac O. Longobardi ’21 Arts Chairs Iris M. Lewis ’21 Allison J. Scharmann ’21 Design Chairs Margot E. Shang ’21 Matthew J. Tyler ’22
FM Chairs Andrew W.D. Aoyama ’21 Nina H. Pasquimi ’21
Blog Chairs Ariana Chiu ’22 Sahara W. Kirwan ’21
Sports Chairs William C. Boggs ’22 Joseph W. Minatel ’21 Multimedia Chairs Ryan N. Gajarawala ’22 Allison G. Lee ’21
Technology Chairs Alexander K. Chin ’21 William Y. Yao ’21
STAFF FOR THIS ISSUE
Night Editor Simone C. Chu ’21
Assistant Night Editors Camille G. Caldera ’22 Jeromel D. R. Lara ’23
Story Editors Shera S. Avi-Yonah ’21 Jonah S. Berger ’21 Alexandra A. Chaidez ’21 Molly C. McCafferty ’21 Katelyn X. Li ’21 Design Editor Camille G. Caldera ’22 Ivan Jara-Marquez ’23 Emily H. Nguyen ’23
Photo Editor Jenny M. Lu ’23
Editorial Editor Justin Y.C. Wong ’22
Sports Editor Benjamin Morris ’22
CORRECTIONS
ARTS
CAMPUS BOOKS
‘The Better Liar’ Deepens the Suburban Thriller
ALINE G. DAMAS CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
COURTESY OF PENGUIN PUBLISHING
In the vein of other female-authored mystery thrillers like “Gone Girl” or “The Girl on a Train,” Tanen Jones’ debut novel “The Better Liar” focuses on a troubled, suburban wife searching for answers. Though thrillers have long since exhausted the trope of a housewife on the verge of a nervous breakdown, this latest novel seeks to bring more depth to the genre by sensitively exploring stigmatized issues regarding mental health and depression. Jones uses her carefully crafted narrators to bring her characters alive in an enthralling new mystery. Accountant Leslie Voigt Flore anchors the novel. She lives with her husband Dave and young son Eli in Albuquerque, and she has been desperately trying to track down her younger sister, Robin Voigt, to no avail. This is not surprising considering that Robin, the family’s wild child, ran away from home ten years ago at the tender age of 16.
Though the two shared a strained relationship, Leslie embarks on this mission in order to collect a large sum from her father’s estate. Under the terms of his will, both siblings must be present in order for them to receive their inheritance — a clause introduced in the hopes of making the two women reconnect. While following a lead in Nevada, Leslie comes upon Mary, a waitress and wannabe-actress with an uncanny resemblance to her missing sister.
Mary agrees to return to New Mexico with Leslie and pose as Robin so the two can con their way into collecting the Voigt inheritance. Events become more complicated when Robin’s dead body is found at her apartment in Las Vegas.
The narration shifts between the point of views of the three women — Leslie, Mary, and Robin — moving through their different perspectives and time shifts almost imperceptibly. Jones is an adept writer who imbues each woman with her own voice and carefully crafted desires: She makes a real effort at creating women of complexity who are both vulnerable and worthy of empathy.
From the start, the book ruminates on what it means to be a young woman who perishes in unseemly circumstances. In the prologue, a deceased Robin suggests that it is only the ones who really loved you who can keep your memory alive: “I mean the ones who saw your disgusting insides and loved you anyway … I only had one person like that. Leslie, my sister.”
Robin’s voice is particularly noteworthy given that she narrates with an unhinged candor and grit that veers towards uncomfortable truths. She remarks that she left home with an earnest desire to escape her family: “I was sixteen and so beautiful that taking my body into the world was like ferrying around a stolen luxury car: just the having of it implied action.” Her self-recognition suggests unsavory truths of what it means to grow up too quickly as a beautiful girl in the American southwest.
Jones writes best when focusing on the characterizations of these women. For example, by diving into Leslie’s complicated relationship with her mentally ill mother, Jones simultaneously unpacks Leslie’s unstable relationship with Eli. Jones’ depiction of Leslie’s marriage to Dave, likewise, is handled carefully. She avoids the trope of overwrought psychoanalytic thinking in favor of a more profound exploration. The ultimate reasons for their troubles aren’t revealed until the end, and until then Jones does an excellent job of leaving red herrings along the way.
At times, it can be difficult to grasp some of the characters’ motivations. Jones portrays each character thoroughly, such that it becomes difficult to unsee Leslie or Mary in the way they were originally presented. For example, Mary’s willingness to help Leslie appears almost incompatible with how quickly she is willing to suspect Leslie’s intentions and begin investigating them. Though this incongruity is explained in the ending, the feeling of unharmoniousness is hard to shake.
Ultimately this imbalance has less to do with the characters than with the plot itself. Jones carefully leaves a trail of breadcrumbs along the way, but when all the pieces come together they are rather inconclusive.
That said, the numerous twists — and I do mean numerous — unspool beautifully and shockingly. The resulting novel is absolutely gripping. Jones knows exactly when to drop background information to carefully build up the reader’s expectations in a certain way. In her hands, suspense is not merely a byproduct of the novel, but a dominant force. Her plot is carefully organized such that the suspense never stops building.
Surprisingly, Jones succeeds in creating a mystery that is poignant, a feat owed to the themes revolving around it rather than just the puzzle itself. By the end, her characterization makes us wonder if we have ever really known anyone properly. As Robin remarks rather darkly towards the end of the novel: “The more you know someone, the more someones you know. They kaleidoscope outward before your eyes.” As readers of “The Better Liar” will find out, Robin’s words turn out to be painfully true.
Staff writer Aline G. Damas can be reached at aline. damas@thecrimson.com.
THE WEEK IN ARTS
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FRIDAY
THE MUSIC OF JENNIFER WALSHE See an eclectic group of artists perform Jennifer Walshe’s multisensory, experimental music.
Institute of Contemporary Art. Feb. 28 at 8 p.m. $20. $10 for students and ICA members.
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SATURDAY GLORIA: A LIFE
On closing weekend, watch the American Repertory Theater tell the story of Gloria Steinem’s life and legacy. Loeb Drama Center. Feb. 29 at 2 p.m., 7:30 p.m. $25. $70.
SUNDAY BEETHOVEN’S BIRTHDAY BASH Listen to the Harvard Radcliffe Orchestra celebrate Beethoven’s 250th birthday by performing some of his greatest works.
Sanders Theatre. March 1 at 3 p.m. $20. Free for students, children under 18.
MONDAY THE DOCYARD: SOME KIND OF HEAVEN Join Lance Oppenheim and Daniel Garber for a screening of their documentary on the largest planned retirement community. The Brattle. March 2 at 7 p.m. $12, $10 for The Brattle members.
TUESDAY
LAURA ZIGMAN IN CONVERSATION Hear author Laura Zigman talk with author Alice Hoffman about her new novel, Separation Anxiety. Harvard Book Store. March 3 at 7 p.m. Free.
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WEDNESDAY
RADCLIFFE OPEN STUDIOS See artworks-in-progress by a diverse and multidisciplinary group of artists at the Radcliffe Institute. Byerly Hall. March 4 at 6 p.m. Free (register online).
THURSDAY
THE ARTIST’S VOICE: TSCHABALALA SELF
Tschabalala Self talks about the creative process and her artwork exhibited in ICA’s Tschabalala Self: Out of Body. Institute of Contemporary Art. March 5 at 7 p.m. Free plus $3 service fee.
28 FEBRUARY 2020 | Vol CXLVI, ISSUE XIX
Associate Editors Hunter T. Baldwin ’22 Joy C. Ashford ’22 Kalos K. Chu ’22 Connor S. Dowd ’22 Annie Harrigan ’22 Cassandra Luca ’21 Samantha J. O’Connell ’22 Amelia F. Roth-Dishy ’22 Jack M. Schroeder ’21 Lanz Aaron G. Tan ’22
Executive Designers Ashley E. Bryant ‘22 Meera S. Nair ‘23
Executive Photographer Jenny M. Lu ’22
Design Associates Maia R. Zonis ‘22 Miranda Eng ‘22
THE HARVARD CRIMSON | FEBRUARY 28, 2020 | PAGE 4
A Modern Retelling of ‘High Fidelity’ Raises the Bar for Romantic Comedies
JADEN S. THOMPSON CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
Hulu’s new series “High Fidelity” is the latest adaptation of Nick Hornby’s novel of the same name, which, since its 1995 publication, has inspired a film starring John Cusack in 2000 and a Broadway musical in 2006. This latest interpretation, a series of 10 half-hour episodes, is a revitalizing genderswapped version of the story. It stars Zoë Kravitz as Rob, the self-absorbed yet likable owner of a Brooklyn record shop called Championship Vinyl, where the only other employees are her two best friends, Simon (David H. Holmes) and Cherise (Da’vine Joy Randolph). Feeling introspective after another failed relationship — her recent breakup with boyfriend Russell “Mac” McCormack (Kingsley Ben-Adir) is particularly jarring — Rob is moved to contact everyone from her top five heartbreak list to find out why she’s so unlucky with love. While honoring the uniquely original premise of its source material, “High Fidelity” is a candid and modern rendition fit for 2020, complete with an evocative soundtrack — ranging from Fleetwood Mac to Prince to Frank Ocean — that underscores the timeless story of painful heartbreak and emotional maturation.
Rob is almost presented as an antihero to viewers. She has a penchant for abandoning dates by sneaking out of a restaurant mid-meal, and she tends to tune out her friends in conversations, forever preoccupied with her own issues. She’s often cold to the incessantly sweet Clyde, the new-in-town “nice guy” played by Jake Lacy. He’s obviously been typecast for the role, but who’s complaining? In a rather tender moment, straight-laced Clyde even steals a rare original pressing of a David Bowie record for her. For all her imperfections, however, Rob is still an everywoman, as Kravitz brings even more likability to the character than John Cusack before her. Zoë Kravitz is a magnetic and natural actress; perhaps she’s inherited some on-screen talent from parents Lenny Kravitz and Lisa Bonet (who, coincidentally, starred in the original film opposite Cusack), but she brings a down-to-earth coolness to the role that is definitively her own. She’s effortlessly relatable, perhaps not in spite of, but because of her own status as a 29-year-old with plenty of growing up to do.
By the end of episode four, Rob is already done confronting everyone on her heartbreak list, from the hilariously pseudo-intellectual Kat Monroe (Ivanna Sakhno) to seventh grade “boyfriend” Kevin Bannister (Clark Furlong). This leaves the series with ample time to follow Rob and her friends Simon and Cherise in their adventures across New York City, even as she continues to obsess over
ARTS
COURTESY OF PHILLIP CARUSO/HULU
ex-boyfriend Mac, who’s just moved back to town with his new fiancée.
Rob wouldn’t be Rob without the updated versions of Championship Vinyl’s two dedicated employees, both of whom were originally white guys named Dick and Barry. Simon, number three on Rob’s top five heartbreak list, dated Rob until she caught him giving his number to a man at the laundromat (“I guess I’m gay,” he confesses to her in a flashback). Despite their messy breakup, Rob and Simon remain close friends because of their mutual love of music, and their endearing bond is made believable by the actors’ easy chemistry. Simon is a fully realized character who even gets an entire episode dedicated to his own Top Five heartbreak list, a quick but enjoyable divergence from Rob’s emotional turmoil. Cherise, another gender-swapped character, is played by the electric Da’Vine Joy Randolph, who puts the comedy in the show’s categorization of romantic-comedy. Randolph dishes out pithy one-liners with her hilarious mannerisms as a loyal and opinionated aspiring musician who doesn’t seem to actually make music. Her character is infectiously effervescent, especially when she dances in the record shop to “Come on Eileen” by Dexys Midnight Runners.
With diversity clearly a priority in the casting and writing of the series, 2020’s “High Fidelity” is truly an adaptation for the current age. Even the arguments between the trio at Championship Vinyl have been smartly updated for the new decade. “This person who’s clearly never been on the Internet is trying to buy a Michael Jackson album for her boyfriend,” Cherise tells Rob with contempt as she tries to refuse the customer the record. Other modern touches include Rob impulsively texting a Spotify playlist to her ex and stalking his fiancée’s Instagram, humorously capturing the frustrating reality of breakups in the era of social media.
“High Fidelity” is a breezy watch, somehow lighthearted and funny while still maintaining the depth that makes it a story worth retelling in so many forms. Perhaps the most satisfying aspect of the show is Rob’s character development — she’s been selfish, and she knows it. Kravitz easily brings her dynamic character to life as she grows into a more self-aware and considerate person, showing refreshing accountability worth even more than the original pressing of a David Bowie record.
Staff Writer Jaden S. Thompson can be reached at jaden.thompson@thecrimson.com.
COURTESY OF DISNEY/PIXAR
Jul. 14, 2017. The Anaheim Convention Center. Then-Pixar Chief Creative Officer John Lasseter took the stage at the D23 Expo — Disney’s biannual fan convention (think Comic Con but with more Mickey Mouse) — to unveil Disney-Pixar’s most far-off animated feature, officially titled “The Untitled Pixar Film That Takes You To A Suburban Fantasy World.” Some thought it odd that Disney-Pixar announced the film so early on. All they had was some concept art, a few sentences on the plot, and an idea for a cool setting. Lasseter probably had grocery receipts lying around with more creative content.
One look at the Pixar canon reveals, however, that the choice is not necessarily surprising. Monster cities powered by children’s screams. Anthropomorphic animal metropoles with rabbit police officers and gazelle pop stars. Sentient, talking cars and fish and toys and physical manifestations of emotions. Pixar movies often rely heavily on the premise; a particularly fresh, well-crafted world can make or break the movie. “Onward” is no different.
The suburban fantasy world is pulled off masterfully, with the creative flair and attention to detail typical of Disney. Skyscrapers are subtly shaped into castle turrets. Little dragons run around the house knocking over flower pots. The Manticore has to worry about paying rent on her tavern. No design element is left untouched, yet everything manages to retain its distinctively suburban DNA. Strip malls are still strip malls. Gas stations are still gas stations. It’s not a new world that director Dan Scanlon creates — it’s our world, just with different, more fantastical origins.
“In times of old, the world was full of wonder — and magic. But, times change,” begins the opening narration. It is in these changed, magic-less times that we meet 16-year-old Iandore “Ian” Lightfoot (Tom Holland) and his older brother, Barley (Chris Pratt). After a spell to bring back their deceased father for a single day goes awry, the two brothers (and their father’s reanimated, disembodied legs) embark upon a quest for a Phoenix Gem to bring back his top half so that they can finally meet their father.
The film centers around the relationship between Ian and Barley, both of whom are hardly fresh, well-rounded characters. Ian is the classic timid, anxious teenager who gets bullied in class and can’t work up the courage to invite “friends” to his birthday party. Barley is his foil of an older brother — staying home on, as their mother describes, “the world’s longest gap year” — who, with his obsession with magic and unicorn-spray-painted van, never fails to embarrass Ian.
‘Onward’ Tries to Bring Magic to the Mundane
KALOS K. CHU CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
As the quest progresses, the tension between the two intensifies (to no one’s surprise), and the emotional focus shifts from their quest to bring back their father to their strained fraternal relationship. The plot does its best to augment this tension; it tries to pull off a “Zootopia”-level twist to get an “Up”-level emotional payoff, but the result falls short. The big, climactic, Disney-trademarked catharsis doesn’t land quite right; the viewer is left thinking, “This is where I should be crying, but I don’t really feel like doing it.” The first half of the movie is partially to blame. Expositional story beats meant to set up emotional stakes are painfully obvious. The frame lingers on Ian jotting down goals in a notepad then dejectedly crossing them out, a valiant but hackneyed effort to signal Ian’s emotional state.
The other characters don’t do much to fill in the gap left by our protagonists, either. Corey the Manticore (Octavia Spencer) is little more than a plot device. Colt Bronco (Mel Rodriguez) just sort of lingers around the edges of the story (but still undergoes an inexplicable transformation by the end). The exception is their mother, exercise-enthusiast Laurel Lightfoot (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), who seems to be carrying the movie on her (probably very toned) shoulders — chasing after her kids in a series of surprisingly entertaining secondary scenes and, in a pleasant departure from convention, playing a big role in the final climactic battle.
“Onward” is by no means a bad film. At this point, it’s questionable whether Disney-Pixar is capable of producing one. The score, composed by Mychael and Jeff Danna (“The Good Dinosaur,” “Life of Pi”), is fittingly epic and sweeping. The animation, as always, is spectacular; a scene where light flowing in from a window illuminates floating dust particles — yes, individual dust particles — stands out, in particular. The premise, the setting, the world and world-building are, again, wonderfully imaginative.
Yet the lack of emotional clarity lingers. Scanlon was inspired to direct this film by his own father’s death when he was a kid, and for him, the story likely holds significant emotional impact. And as touching as that is, the fact remains — for the unacquainted viewer, this impact must be earned. “Onward” felt confused, sentimental without having anything in particular to be sentimental about, and for that, it will serve as a reminder that even the coolest ideas have their limits.
Staff writer Kalos K. Chu can be reached at kalos.chu@thecrimson.com.
Where could Tame Impala go after achieving the rare synthesis of indie appreciation and mainstream success following their 2015 album “Currents”? There is a wide spectrum of possibility for the follow-up to a big hit in today’s fractured, ultra-competitive music climate. On one end, artists can reinvent themselves completely and suffer financially for it. The public wanted Arctic Monkeys to release another “AM,” but frontman Alex Turner instead gave them the Bowie-esque “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino,” a concept album about a moon resort with good tacos. Conversely, artists can put up a facade of change that is broadly palatable but lacks personality or purpose. Justin Bieber’s “Changes” carries big messages of transformation but fails to take artistic risks. This dilemma — forgoing commercial success for niche left turns versus talking about musical evolution without actually delivering the goods — belies an inescapable truth of art: Change is hard.
“The Slow Rush,” released on Feb. 14 as the culmination of a grueling five-year wait after “Currents,” refuses to fall neatly into either of the aforementioned archetypes. Instead, frontman Kevin Parker offers a balance between sonic 180 degree pivots and false promises. Is this balance satisfying? To many, it won’t be. While the group’s sound largely remains the same, the lyrical content and opaque song structures point to a substantial — and potentially off-putting — maturation from Parker. But Parker finally seems to feel satisfied with his work, which has allowed him to take calculated risks on this album that pay off handsomely on repeat listens.
Oftentimes, the follow-up to a big record emerges out of isolation. Turner and Bieber largely left the spotlight during their five-year release droughts — “Despacito” notwithstanding — and their subsequent lyrics speak of struggles with writer’s block and imposter syndrome. Parker stayed active during this break, though, producing for artists like SZA and playing bass for Travis Scott on “SNL” in 2018. As a result, the change that inspires “The Slow Rush” is paradoxical: We do different things only to end up exactly where we started.
This inherent circularity informs the thematic arc of “The Slow Rush.” At the album’s onset, life passes Parker by (“We’re on a rollercoaster stuck on its loop-de-loop” on “One More Year”). Marriage breaks this hypnosis on “Instant Destiny” (“Let’s cause something permanent / Just so we know we can”), leading Parker to reckon with his social life on “Borderline” (“I wonder how I managed to end up in this place”) and family ties on “Posthumous Forgiveness” (“You’re just a man after all”). This reckoning isn’t easy, spurring the anxiety-reducing techniques of “Breathe Deeper,” the forward-focus of “Tomorrow’s Dust,” and the steadfast optimism of “On Track.” This personal focus requires letting go of nostalgia (“Lost in Yesterday”), questioning permanence (“And I tell her I’m in love with her / But how can I know that I’ll always be?” on “Is It True”), and coming to terms with mortality (“It Might Be Time”). The two minute long “Glimmer” shows
Tame Impala Focus Hard on ‘The Slow Rush’
JACK M. SCHROEDER CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
Parker returning to the studio and serves as an interlude to the frighteningly beautiful “One More Hour,” with its outro speaking to Parker’s acceptance and ownership over his decisions (“I’m with you and I can roll into another year”).
Grand themes are not new for Tame Impala. “Currents” produced hits like “The Less I Know The Better” and “Let It Happen” while still connecting songs through the motif of moving on. Some tracks, however, felt inessential to this narrative, and their ordering actively hampered its impact. Parker admits his evolution on “Yes I’m Changing,” and emotionally breaks off a relationship in “Eventually,” but he then reverts to pining after a flame in “The Less I Know The Better,” breaking his progress. “The Slow Rush,” in contrast, seems more emotionally consistent.
“The Slow Rush” also takes after the more complex aspects of “Currents.” “New Person, Same Old Mistakes” finished “Currents” on a multilayered high note, and Parker takes some of that unorthodox structure into his next album. “Breathe Deeper” samples, in Parker’s words, a track from a “parallel universe.” “Posthumous Forgiveness” displays over two acts Parker’s progression from hating his father to sympathizing with him. Parker samples a phone call with his wife on “Tomorrow’s Dust” and an unnamed podcast on “Glimmer.” Even “Borderline,” which was released as a single in 2019, sounds entirely different on the album: the bass is heightened, the drums hit harder, and the synths are much funkier. Some of these decisions may not work for everyone — the fake-outs in “It Might Be Time” and “Glimmer,” for example, can feel superfluous — but this record is much riskier and experimental than it first appears. The vast majority of these leaps work, though, because of the agonizingly long wait between albums, time that has given Parker the chance to not just obsess over artistic dilemmas but also expand his range.
In all likelihood, most listeners will not give this record the time it needs to fully sink in. That’s not anyone’s fault, since the music market has gotten more crowded, even in the five years since “Currents.” While there are undeniable hooks on this album that will stick in your memory, there doesn’t appear to be a hit on the same level as “The Less I Know The Better.” Lacking popularity works for Parker, though, because he doesn’t intend to play it safe in search of radio success like Bieber. Alternatively, the goal of the album was also not to fundamentally change his band’s sound, as Turner did for Arctic Monkeys. Instead, by not following either example, Parker has carved himself his own spot on the spectrum of follow-ups: one that actively, naturally improves upon its predecessor, and one that other artists would do well to emulate. In the end, “The Slow Rush” is a record about focus — which, unfortunately, is required to fully imbibe what Parker has to offer.
Staff writer Jack M. Schroeder can be reached at jack.schroeder@thecrimson.com.
THEATER
‘Gloria: A Life’ is an Inspirational Call to Action
SARA KOMATSU CRIMSON STAFF WRITER
COURTESY OF ©APRIORIPHOTOGRAPHY.COM
“It isn’t just that we live in a patriarchy. It’s that the patriarchy lives in us.”
Witty, thought-provoking quotes from Gloria Steinem such as these abound throughout the inspiring theatrical biography that is “ Gloria: A Life,” playing through March 1 at the American Repertory Theatre. The show, an original off-Broadway production written by Emily Mann, premiered in New York in 2018. As shocking and elegant as Steinem herself, the show is a beautiful tribute to a trailblazing activist and the women’s movement to which she has been and always will be integral.
The performance space is arranged so that audience members sit in a circle face to face, evoking the experience of late-night chats around a campfire. This, as it is explained, is meant to simulate natural human interaction. The set is homey and inviting, with rugs covering the floor, pillows across the seats, and floor cushions for audience members. Everything is in warm tones of red and yellow. A white projector screen composed of tiles hangs on either side of the room, on which a montage including footage from the Seneca Falls Convention and Steinem’s life plays. The video ends with a shot of her standing, hand in the air. Then the lights go up to reveal Patricia Kalember as Steinem, holding the same pose.
The show paints a picture of Gloria Steinem’s life in the public sphere as a journalist and a feminist political activist alongside her personal life story, “together, like a braid,” as Mann explains. Steinem shares her famous Playboy bunny story before transitioning into her experience with abortion. Stories about her mother are woven into the narrative of her feminist activism. Raw, real, and vulnerable, “Gloria: A Life” is a history of the women’s movement from the perspective of one of its greatest advocates.
An all-female ensemble accompanies Kalember, helping her act out Steinem’s story and contributing their own voices. They fill out the story and the space, often scattering into the audience to speak from among the people. The result is a harmony with Steinem’s story of the women’s movement: This was, and is, a collective undertaking.
This sense of a collective is hammered home by a talking circle after the show, an open discussion with the audience meant to foster reflection and dialogue about “the play, the women’s movement, and the ongoing struggle for equality in our world today.” The conversation is launched by a special guest at each show. Guests include Planned Parenthood League of Massachusetts CEO Dr. Jennifer Childs-Roshak, founder of Radical Black Girl Destiny Polk, and Nancy Gibbs, the first female Editor-in-Chief of TIME magazine, to name a few. The mic is then handed to any audience member who raises their hand to signal that they want to share their thoughts.
The first speaker at the Feb. 16 show underscored the reality of the stories presented in the play by courageously sharing her own abortion story. The next speaker shared her experience at the March for Our Lives and her hopes for a better world for her daughter. Most of the people who spoke were older women, people who grew up with Gloria Steinem, who experienced the feminist movement as she drove it. For me, as a young woman, listening to these women speak was eyeopening: All my life I have taken for granted the opportunities that have been given to me by these women, who fought and paved the way so that I could have this world, though still imperfect, in which to continue the fight.
“Gloria: A Life” not only tells an important and inspirational story but teaches us to listen to those around us. The show is about one woman, but it also shines a spotlight on the women in her life who helped her along the way, from activists like Dorothy Pitman Hughes and Florynce Kennedy to Steinem’s own mother. As Steinem notes in the play, “like a lot of women, I am living my mother’s unlived life.”
Gloria Steinem’s story is far from over. At 85 years old, Steinem is still engaged and active in the political sphere, making the world a better place. At the show’s conclusion, the actors leave the audience with a request: to go out and do something radical in the next 24 hours. We might not all be Gloria Steinem, but as your first radical act, you can go see this show and be inspired to make a difference.
CAMPUS
‘Lucian Freud’ Provides Glimpses but not Clarity
TOMÁS GUERRERO JARAMILLO CONTRIBUTING WRITER
Nine years after the death of Lucian Freud, the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston is providing a new, intimate look into the development of the figurative painter’s artistic expression. Freud is one of the most renowned portraitists of the late 20th century. Even in his early twenties, he had already earned wide recognition in the art world, and his later paintings provided an archetype for the contemporary depiction of the human figure. To give museum goers more insight into his artistic career, the MFA is partnering with the Royal Academy of Arts in London to present an exclusive collection of Freud’s self-portraits. This is the first time in the United States that a collection of this sort has been exhibited. It will be on view in the MFA from March 1 to May 25.
In essence, Akili Tommasino’s curation of the exhibit of self-portraits itself forms a portrait of the artist. Oftentimes, the presence of other subjects in Freud’s art distracts from the masterful work of his painting. It is often tempting to analyze the relation between artist and sitter, especially given Freud’s close connection with psychoanalysis as the grandson of Sigmund Freud. Isolating Lucian’s works as self-portraits, however, opens the possibility for the viewer to focus momentarily on Freud’s formal choices before considering his subjects.
The show opens with two pieces that juxtapose Freud’s early and late work. At first glance, the solid colors and minimalist shape of Freud’s “Man with a Feather” stands in great contrast to the exaggerated color and texture of his skin from one of his self-portraits from 2002. The show then proceeds to present his works in a fairly chronological order, demonstrating the maturation of the artist and his craft. In this way, viewers are able to easily appreciate the massive changes the artist made through his career, setting up the stage for what is to come.
The subsequent gallery space displays multiple drawings and sketches made by the artist in the 1940s. The diversity of stylistic approaches found in these portraits gives light to young Freud’s experimentation with portraiture. A number of these works were produced as book illustrations, which allowed Freud to easily dabble in different media and drawing styles. Observing the early sketches of the artists offers a unique opportunity to see him playfully explore different modes of portrayal before settling in his iconic heavy, impastoed style.
It is illuminating to watch the creation of Freud’s identity as a painter evolve over time. While Freud often discarded subpar material, he deliberately left behind some incomplete works. These drafts expose the initial sketchings that are obscured in published pieces by the following months of painting. Additionally, spectators walking through the exhibit are not only able to see the evolution of his style, but also layers of paint accumulating on his portraits’ skins, culminating in the thick and rough texture of his last works. The convergence of his previous works into a mature and intense depiction of skin reveals years of careful meditation. Every painting considered within this timeline hints at the ultimate direction Freud would take as an artist.
Interestingly, the exhibition strives for interactivity, potentially to build an online following. In the back of the gallery, there is a room in which visitors are encouraged to pick up pencil and paper and try self-portraiture themselves, and to share these drawings on social media. With the advent of museums designed entirely to be Instagramable, it is reassuring to see the MFA attempting to stay up to speed without straying too far from their purpose. Drawing, however, may be too time consuming for visitors. With the average viewer scarcely spending more than 30 seconds observing a painting, it would be surprising to see one invest their time into trying to draw themselves — especially if they have little experience. But even if the interactive studio doesn’t reach viral fame, one can only hope that some will find this opportunity enriching.
Near the end of the exhibit, the bubble of Freud’s individualistic representations is broken with two portraits in which Freud is only marginally represented: once as a shadow and once as a small, unfinished painting in the background. The surprising appearance of these works complicates audiences’ views of the artist by presenting a clear example of how he looks at other people. Up to this point, the exhibit cut only considers him a self-reflecting individual, but now the curator highlights that his work is more complex than that. The estrangement previously evident in the abstract shapes that made up Freud’s skin is now visible in the people he paints. Before, his work was only about form; now we have to be concerned with meaning as well.
“Lucian Freud: The Self-Portrait” will leave viewers with the desire to know more about the artist. The exhibition only presents a peek at Freud’s life outside of the self-reflecting mirror. Although the curation is extremely successful in providing a portrait of Freud as painter, it lacks information about the person he was, or why exactly he painted the way that he did. In the end, the exhibition raises more questions than answers about Freud’s complex, illustrious career.
Staff writer Tomas Guerrero Jaramillo can be reached at tomas. guerrerojaramillo@thecrimson.com.
COURTESY OF THE MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS, BOSTON
Behind the Register
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PHOEBE G. BARR CONTRIBUTING WRITER
desk and your own special computer login and paperwork. Doing Harvard proud.
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