No More Women in Music

Important Opinions on Important Movies by Sam de Visser

Some of you may remember that a very, very long time ago, I used to be part of ScreenCo (and actually co-founded it-not a flex). During that time, I had two very specific movies in mind that I wanted to use ScreenCo to show the UCU community: Who Killed Captain Alex?, which I’ll definitely be writing a column on at a later point in time, and Come and See (Elem Klimov, 1985). As someone who doesn’t like war movies, or hopelessly sad movies, I still think Come and See is one of the greatest and most important films ever made. And I think that’s all because it directly messes with something I consider essential to any good story: hope.

Generally, stories need a little bit of hope. No matter how bleak a movie seems to be, we as viewers need to have something positive to hang onto, or we’re not going to keep watching. I also think it’s realistic for a movie to contain this spark of hope: human beings have this strange gift of being able to hang onto a little happiness even if there really shouldn’t be any. That might be why Come and See so completely devastated me: this is one of the only films that

I’ve seen that does not contain any hope, and it’s beyond effective.

Come and See takes place in 1943 in Nazi-occupied Belarus and follows Florya, a thirteen-year old boy who happily joins the Soviet partisan army to fight the Germans. What follows is a never-ending nightmare, a two-anda-half-hour fever dream in which director Elem Klimov uses both hyperrealism (all the costumes worn were real, all the bullets shot were real) and surrealism (Nazis eating fresh lobster as a village burns in mid-Belarus, our protagonist almost drowning in impossibly thick mud) to get his point across. Florya is dragged from one hellish situation to another, with all hope constantly being ripped away from him.

The film almost never detracts from Florya's perspective: there are many, many extreme close-ups of his facial expressions in this film, more and more haunting as his ghastly face processes more and more trauma. The few times the camera does detract from Florya, by nature we as viewers expect a shift in the mood: why else would we move away from the horrors that our main character is witnessing if all we’re going to see is more horror? But even when the camera isn’t on Florya, there is terror, death and despair. There is an incredibly uncomfortable scene near the end of the film that is agonising to watch, as the camera refuses to move away from the horrific display that is unfolding in front of it - a scene that never seems to end.

None of this sounds appealing in any way, I realise that. But Come and See is a film that is astonishingly dense in its storytelling, one of the most effective anti-war films ever made. It is a war movie after the war has already passed, painting a picture of an occupied landscape where scattered groups of Nazis wreak havoc, and eerily beautiful forests and fields house nothing but death. This is not a fun film to watch, but the story that is being told is important, and the lack of hope makes it all the more realistic. Come and See is a film in which you pity the survivors, not the dead. It will leave you utterly depressed, but also utterly impressed by the incredible power of what a camera can do.

Stan’s Sad Boi Songs :(

No More Women in Music! by Stanley Ward

For my column this issue, I was at a bit of a loss with what to write about. I’m tired of the ‘What it’s like to be a Woman in music’ angle, as are many female musicians. Haim are even calling their upcoming third record ‘Women in Music Pt.III.’ It’s a reductive label, which arguably reduces the work of female musicians and lumps them all together based on their gender. Not to say that those who identify as women can’t write about their experience as women, as they absolutely can. It’s just that the mainstream music press often still sticks to this reductive, and frankly boring narrative, of asking female musicians what it’s like to be a woman in the music business instead of asking about their fucking art. However, Women’s month is important, and I still wanted my column to support the dismantling of the patriarchy, so I thought why not just ask some actual women to recommend some music that’s important to them. Enjoy. Vanessa Morgan - Gloria: In Excelsis Deo by Patti Smith

Gloria is the first Patti song I ever heard as a young girl and subsequently made me feel like a kickass woman like herself. Gloria is a pretty blatantly sacrilegious fuck you in the form of a three- cord song. Originally by Van Morrison, Patti made it good and christened herself the ‘Godmother of Punk Rock’ - what is not to love!? It’s either that or Typical Girls written by Viv Albertine as a part of the Slits, who’s my other hero. I’m a sucker for empowering female punk anthems.

Noor Van Asseldonk Chen - Reality Check (feat. Akenya & Eryn Allen Kane) by Noname

It’s about uncertainty, opportunities, self-affirmation, and the production is what I imagine growing into yourself would sound like. Telefone is probably one of my favourite albums of all time anyways, but Reality Check really stands out.

Cara Mayer - Isobel by Björk When I received Stan’s text, the question that sprang to mind was not which song to choose, but which Björk song to choose. In rapid succession, I vowed to absolutely not choose anything by Björk, so I could avoid my own inevitable cliché. Unfortunately, here I am choosing one anyways. My choice is “Isobel”, and my reason is three-fold. First of all, the premise of the song is amazing. Isobel is born in a forest, when nature forged a deal to raise wonderful hell like her (like her). She is also very truly in love with herself, not in any kind of narcissistic way, but in a matter-of-fact and complete way. Secondly, the photoshoot by Andrea Giacobbe that accompanies this song is fantastic. I want all of us to take on this energy as much as we can this month. Lastly, the sound of the song itself is so weird, fun, and vibrant, a strange mix of trip-hop beats and a lavish orchestra that occasionally explodes. It really feels like a “fuck you” to indulge in.

Aysu Amaha Öztürk - Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush

Kate Bush, this crazy beautiful woman, released Wuthering Heights as her debut single. She became the first female artist to achieve a UK number one with a self-written song and the song is about Wuthering Heights, the book by Brontë. I hate that book but love this song, so I would listen to it when I had to read the sickening book in English class. She is also fucking weird and I dig that.

Silveira Linings

Identity Identification by Julia Silveira

The other day, my unit mate told me that he thinks most girls on campus don’t have a personality. Naturally, this caused hurt, anger, and a little bit of an identity crisis. But then I thought – what does ‘having a personality’ even mean? And now you’re probably thinking ‘she’s about to get all whiny and talk about how she does have a personality, and her unit mate just happens to hate women.’ Well, you are mistaken; I want to talk about identity.

A large part of what makes up our ‘identity’ stems from our roots – where we come from, the place we feel like we belong. This is where I get stuck. On paper, I am from Brazil. Both of my parents are Brazilian, and most of my family is still in the country. Nevertheless, I only lived there for 8 years of my life and don’t go back that often anymore because plane tickets are pricey (and we should all be staying home to prevent the spread of the coronavirus). I also have Portuguese nationality, but have lived in the Netherlands for most of my life. For some reason though, I don’t feel Portuguese either, and I haven’t fully integrated into Dutch culture. I don’t really feel a strong sense of attachment to these countries, nor do I feel like I completely belong to any of them. I know I’m not Dutch enough for the Dutch, nor am I Portuguese enough (I can’t even do a Portuguese accent). I find myself desperately clinging to my Brazilian roots, but somehow still feel like a bit of an outsider.

Sometimes I catch myself casually putting on what I think sounds a little like a Brazilian/ Latin-American accent when I speak English. I’m not sure why I do it. I think this is the way my subconscious has found to stay close to my roots, and prove to the outside world that they actually make up part of who I am (or maybe I actually do have a bit of an accent and just notice it more sometimes?). I also find that I am very interested in all things Latin-America related – I’ve written papers on Brazil for many of my classes, and find myself incredibly drawn to Latin American or even just Portuguese or Spanish speaking people.

I think this is partially because of the importance we place on having an identity. Being Brazilian will always be a defining factor of who I am, while many other aspects of my identity are dynamic. Things like my interests, hobbies (honestly I’m not even sure what ‘hobbies’ are? Like sports and stuff? I don’t really do sports, does this mean I don’t have hobbies?), future goals and aspirations in life are constantly changing, so don’t have the power to define me indefinitely.

I was talking to a friend of mine about this last month when she visited and she basically said that she thinks we’re the first generation of ‘citizens of the world’, who have been in international schools most of their lives, and may not necessarily feel a strong sense of attachment to any specific place. She said that in a few years (maybe decades I don’t know), she thought the whole world would be like us.

I’m not so sure about this or what it would mean. The only reason I have been able to become a ‘citizen of the world’ is through the privilege that I have. Despite this, I still cling to my Brazilian roots, often putting myself in a position where I feel like I can speak for Brazilian people (and more specifically, women) even though I can’t really relate to most of them at all. I feel like I am a walking product of Western colonialism, because if anything, I am more Western than Brazilian, and in clinging to my Brazilian roots, and aiming to fix whatever is ‘wrong’ with Brazil, I am doing nothing but imposing my elitist world views.

Maybe I should not be placing so much importance on my nationality, trying to find out who I am and what my ‘purpose’ in life is. I feel like there is no point in obsessing over any of this, and I should take life as it comes, focussing on whatever opportunity is present, and making whatever decision I think is right at the time. I don’t really know. This is a puzzle I haven’t been able to solve.

Daniel’s Delectable Discussions by Daniel Kamenkovitch

Personality and individuality in social communication is dying – and social media is the executioner. Apps for everything, no calling, no personal interface. People would rather text each other instead of quickly calling, or simply dropping by randomly. Even more, the ringing of the doorbell is nowadays associated with frowning and doubt instead of a smile and sparkling curiosity. Romantic goodbyes when departing to different countries or even continents are a thing of the past; people text each other as soon as they are in the plane, bus or train. Hugs of farewell lose their value. Their magic. Of course, we won a lot through the developments of technology – it is a miracle that I can speak with my friend from California in real-time without the constraints of space limiting us. But for what cost? Look around you. Was it too much?