This WEEKEND

WEEKEND // FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012

Losing the Resourcerer

CJ May and the story of Yale Recycling.

BY CAROLINE TRACEY, PAGE 3

DIGITALFUTURE

B5

BARD

B6

ART AIN’T PEANUTS

B9

LIBRARIES AS ART

AN HOMAGE TO THE MASTER

THE EXPENSE OF ART CLASSES

Yanan Wang finds the future of libraries at the most recent Artspace exhibit, “Library Science.”

WEEKEND solicits Yale’s best Shakespearean imitators, and sonnets abound.

Akbar Ahmed investigates why some classes cost so much to take.

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YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

ASCHER

SHOPPING PERIOD WITH A SIDE OF BUFFALO SAUCE

BERNHARDT

WEEKEND VIEWS

Hate The Player, Play My Game

// KAREN TIAN

STIFF QUESTIONS

[Jordan Ascher was unable to write his column this week due to circumstances. We apologize, because we know that you like it when he writes a column, and that your week will be worse because he didn’t. Instead, we offer you the next best thing: a transcription of his inner monologue, recorded by the device that was implanted in your brains when you matriculated. Don’t worry about it!]

Ah, here I am. Back at college, just like that. Gosh, this is an awfully nice place, isn’t it? Yes sir, I am refreshed, relaxed and ready to learn.

Ooh, look, those Occupy New Haven people are still here. Good for them. “We are the 99%!” You know, those guys have a point.

I really should learn a bit more about income inequality. Maybe I’ll do some reading up on that in my free time. Let me just pay this here cabby and step for the first time into the fresh New Haven air.

Holy crap it’s cold. Oh god it’s so cold. But! That doesn’t matter. Winter in New England — how romantic! The bracingly cold air will invigorate me as I walk to class and imbue my cheeks with a rosy hue! Speaking of which, classes. All right, it’s a good thing I prepared over break and have a sensible shopping schedule all ready. Let me sit down in my common room (still musty and too hot, I see! Whatever!) and take a look.

Funny, it seems like I forgot to pick any classes at all. I could have sworn I did, but apparently not.

Really? Did I really not pick any classes? Well. That’s fine. That’s what shopping period is for, you know. Exploring. Why is this vein in my forehead throbbing? Am I having a heart attack? Am I about to die? It is so cold outside. It is so cold outside. Why is it getting dark, it’s only 4 in the afternoon.

It is so cold outside. It is so cold outside. It is so cold outside.

[All of Jordan’s thoughts between Jan. 8 and Jan. 16 have been removed from this column.]

It is so cold outside. It is so cold outside. It is so cold outside.

Huh? Where am I? Why am I covered in Buffalo sauce? Is this a

d a g ge r, which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?

Ha, good one, me. Looks like my wit is still intact. Umph.

OK, there’s my computer. Let me go check it. Email time! What have you got for me today, Internet? Fifteen unread emails! This should be fun!

Hey, that cool professor from that cool seminar emailed me!

Good news, I presume. Oh. I didn’t get in. Well, you know, you can’t win them all. But lookie here! Another! This one — I have a good feeling about this one. Let’s just open that email up aaaaaand … oh. Um, alright. Well, 0 for 2, old buddy! Surely this third one couldn’t possibly be — AAAURGHRGH. DAG-FREAKINGNABBIT. How dare all these horrible professors reject me! Don’t they know who I am?! Surely I made it clear to them that I am, in fact, exceptional!

Hold on, what is happening to my eyes? Are my eyes sweating?

Why are my eyes making eyewater? Has it come to this — me

alone in my room, covered in Buffalo sauce, watering my eyes out like a weak little child? Pride, Jordan. Pride. Maybe I can learn something from all this. Maybe it was unwise of me to hang my semester on the hope of getting into three junior history seminars. Maybe my hubris was too great. Maybe the time has come to make peace with the fact that I am not, in fact, exceptional. I’m just one out of many.

Yes, that feels right. Let me step into the night — cold as it may be — and look up at the beautiful New Haven sky. I’m sure that the sight of the heavenly bodies making their nightly rounds through the sky will reassure me that all is well, that the world will continue to turn, that in spite of adversity and stress, I will be all right. Let me just open the door onto my beautiful courtyard, and see …

THAT IT’S SNOWING!?

HOLY CRAP WHAT A TERRIBLE WEEK. Contact JORDAN ASCHER at jordan.ascher@yale.edu .

You might think that there are a limited number of legitimate reasons to hate someone.

Some classic examples: 1) The person in question killed your mother/ father/brother/sister/clone.

2) The person in question hates a group of people to which you belong involuntarily.

3) The person in question walked out on you and/or your mother/father/etc. while one/both of you were being mauled by a wolf/bear/Balrog (“You! Shall! Not! Pass!”).

I hate to break it to you, dear reader, but there are a near-infinite number of reasons to hate someone. I’ve collected some of my favorites below: 1) The person in question has a stupid face.

2) The person in question is just the most boring person you’ve ever met, so much so that it would be better if he/she were a complete asshole, because then at least you’d have something to work with.

3) The person in question makes a habit of getting too drunk and throwing up on things that aren’t his/hers while attempting to kiss people with whom a romantic rapport has not been established.

4) The person in question is under the impression that he/she is clever/has a good sense of humor/is the life of the party even though he/she clearly lacks the wit/timing/ good sense/good taste to successfully fill that particular niche.

5) Other people present at the aforementioned social occasion encourage the selfappointed jokester by laughing along to his/her bullshit behavior even though such a reaction is clearly undeserved.

6) Again, the person in question has a stupid face (i.e. you see him/her from a distance and know from half a second’s glance that you a) don’t know him/her, b) don’t want to know him/her, c) don’t care if your friends say that he/she is a nice guy/girl because there’s no way that someone with a face like that could be worth wasting a second of your life on).

7) Just ’cause.

Before we go any deeper, I’d just like to clarify that I am not a hateful person. I’m not FULL of hate. I don’t hate people due to some inherent quality of their identity or deeply held belief.

Some classic examples: 1) Political association 2) Skin color 3) Ethnicity 4) Gender identity 5) Sexual identity 6) Religious affiliation People who hate for those reasons are irresponsible haters. They use their hatred to do douchey things, like run for public office on ignorant or hateful platforms, or beat people up (or worse).

It’s not a good thing that we hate, but by the same token, I think there’s a harmful tendency

for us to whitewash our petty hatred because we’re ashamed of it. A recently spurned friend may say of the offending party, “I hate him/ her/it!” and we may pat that friend on the back and say, “Yes, yes,” but we often secretly think that really, this feeling is not hatred. It’s a more superficial emotion, like strong dislike, or embarrassment, or anger. We use “hate” as a catch-all euphemism for “negative, nebulous, angry emotions.”

What I’m arguing is that sometimes it isn’t a euphemism! Sometimes we just full-on hate somebody for no good reason, and when that happens, we should stop bullshitting and just admit it.

Sometimes I’ll hate someone for a fleeting moment, like if he/she needlessly uses a polysyllabic word when there is a clearly available monosyllabic alternative. Sometimes I’ll hate someone for a few minutes, like if he/she has a contrived accent or cadence or posture or personality, and then I’ll get over it. It’s liberating, even just to know by myself in my own head that the feeling is there, that I recognize it and that I’m going to move on with my life.

I don’t hate people for long periods of time, and I don’t hate close friends of mine, and I don’t tolerate outwardly hateful actions.

Admittedly, I might whisper to a friend, “Check out Stupidface over there,” but I would never tell Stupidface that I hate his/her unfortunate arrangement of facial features.

Short of Suzuki or Jesus or the Buddha, we all hate. Of course, we’re told as children that we shouldn’t hate, and that’s a good thing, because kids can’t handle hatred appropriately, and telling them that it’s okay to hate fucks them up in annoying, dangerous and potentially irreparable ways.

But I’m a fledgling adult. Don’t guilt me or infantilize me for having an emotion that I’m self-aware enough to recognize as hatred. For God’s sake, don’t let me act on it, and please tell me to shut up if I start being a douche about it, but don’t tell me not to hate silently, in my head, for no reason, because that secret harmless irrational hatred is what keeps me from turning my angst into something usable and dangerous and hurtful. If it weren’t for my little secret hatreds, the cartoonishly large anvil of maturity would crush my soul into a fine powder that would blow away in the breeze from the next passing bus.

If you can honestly say that you don’t hate a little bit on a regular basis, you have my blessing, really, even though I think you’re probably a bullshitter. And if you hate me right now after reading this because you think I’m espousing hatred even though I’m not, good! Because that’s the idea.

Contact AUSTIN BERNHARDT at austin.bernhardt@yale.edu .

Cheap Labor, Child Pain // BY TESSA SMITH, HOPE KRONMAN AND RACHEL KAUDER NALEBUFF

Each week, the ladies of Stiff Questions concoct a seasonal cocktail and discuss life’s big questions.

Children: a nuisance or a nag? This week, the ladies address this timeless question and attempt to reconcile with the unsettling answer. To comfort themselves from the ills of the world and the snow outside, the ladies have selected a seasonal and, perhaps inappropriately, innocent cocktail: the White Russian.

The contributors for this week’s column are Miss Bully Idol, Miss Ty Moutcorner, and Miss Amie Chua.

Ms. I: I think we should start off today by listing things children do that make us see red with fury.

Ms. M: Children are always quick to point out any physical abnormality — especially the ones on your face.

Ms. C: And they have no filters! One thing about children that drives me up the wall is their substitution of the letter W for the letter R. What kind of a name is Wachel?!

Ms. I.: Ridiculous! Those are two entirely different letters!

Ms. M: Even worse, they frequently pee themselves in public.

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Ms. C: They chew their shirts and suck on their hair. Evolutionarily, why would you ever seek nutrition in your hair?

Ms. M: Yeah, and they don’t even drink — what prudes!

Ms. C: Right, either they’re prude or they’re filthy! There’s no middle ground.

Ms. I: They can’t even grow facial hair.

Ms. M: You never see a kid with a tattoo.

Ms. C: They can’t hold heavy objects.

Ms. I: They also have that perpetual, solidified mucus tract from the bottom of their noses to the top of their upper lips.

Ms. M: Which they seem to enjoy ingesting.

Ms. I: In small increments.

Ms. C: In constant increments, like an IV of snot.

Ms. M: Children are revolting.

Ms. C Who needs ’em?!

Ms. M: They don’t even have jobs.

Ms. I: They’re sucking the economy dry.

Ms. C: Bunch of freeloaders.

Ms. I: They’ll eat all your food and

“LOST IN TIME” COLLOQUIUM Phelps Hall // 12:00 p.m.

Yale loves me some antiquity.

suck all your breastmilk …

Ms. C: Another thing I hate about children is that they often force you to be immoral because you have to lie to convince them to do something that’s actually to their own benefit. For example, when you’re trying to feed a child delicious headcheese, you’ll have to pretend it’s applesauce!

Ms. M: And the little shit won’t even believe you!

Ms. C: So now let’s move on to the next section: discharging what we as people of the grownup persuasion see as fit punishment.

Ms. I: Two words: the chokey.

Ms. M: But if you want to kill two birds and get an arm workout at the same time — I found tossing children by their pigtails does wonders for my arm flab.

Ms. C: You can have them do chores.

Ms. M: Servants require so much money and attention and fair treatment — I say we replace servants with children!

Ms. C: You don’t have to pay them.

Ms. M: You can produce them very cheaply.

Ms. I: They’re the untapped work-

FURNITURE STUDY TOUR

Yale University Art Gallery // 12:00 p.m.

Almost as good as a visit to Chairigami.

WHITE RUSSIAN RECIPE

1. Pour a shot or so of Vodka into your glass.

2. For every shot of Vodka, marry it with two shots of Kahlua.

3. Add cream to your liking. We like it very much.

force of the future.

Ms. M: Yes, they do take a bit of time to ripen, though. But as soon as they’re scooting or crawling, you can put a mop on them.

Ms. C: Let’s learn a lesson from the Amish — we should take our children out of school after the sixth grade so that they don’t begin to question us.

Ms. I: Yes, we can indoctrinate them.

“THOU SHALT NOT BE A CHILD.” Ms. C: So why, if children are so abhorrent, do we bother to have them in the first place? Why this urge to procreate?

Ms. I: I think that the desire to reproduce derives itself from the more primal desire to punish them.

Ms. M: And now we have the right tricks to do so!

INTRODUCTORY TOUR

Yale Center for British Art // 2:00 p.m.

A tour of the Center’s permanent collection. We’ll be there.

Ms. C: On that note, I think it’s a good time to announce to our readers … we’re all pregnant!

Ms. M: Oh my goodness and in labor!

Ms. I: Shame we won’t get to finish our White Russians.

Ms. M: But we don’t have to forget them entirely if we name our respective children Cream, Kahlua and Vodka.

Ms. C: Well, whatever my daughter’s official name is, she’s going by “FISTWAD.” You can look forward to Stiff Questions on the 3rd of February with a new and similarly scintillating topic of conversation.

Contact RACHEL KAUDER NALEBUFF at rachel.kaudernalebuff@yale.edu .

“

‘Solid wastes’ are the discarded leftovers of our advanced consumer society. This growing mountain of garbage and trash represents not only an attitude of indifference toward valuable natural resources, but also a serious economic and public health problem.

”

-JIMMY CARTER

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

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WEEKEND COVER

T C I N I V GA E

O ISI

// BY CAROLINE TRACEY

am Bendinelli ’13 didn’t expect levitation when he went a public hearing last February. But then again, he had never been at a public hearing with CJ May FES ’89, Yale’s recycling coordinator.

Bendinelli had been working with Alderman Justin Elicker FES ’10 SOM ’10 on a bill that would prohibit New Haven tax dollars from being spent on bottled water, and was at the hearing to testify.

At the hearing, Bendinelli, last year’s president of the Yale Student Environmental Coalition, met May. Bendinelli recalls that May “got up and gave an impassioned plea to pass the bill … with magic tricks!” It struck Bendinelli that May had taken his own time to come to the hearing, and had even brought his son with him. “You could tell that this was something he really cared about, and cared about enough to share with his family,” Bendinelli continues. “The emotion in his voice was evident. He stole the show.”

In one of the tricks, May levitated a bottle of water, a trick in which he places the flattened bottle onto his hand, with the spout in his palm and the base facing out.

“It’s important to show that these things are alive,” May says when he performs this trick. “Even if the bottle is flattened, and even if it doesn’t have a label (because, you know, in Connecticut, if it has a label, it can be returned for five cents) — ” he stares at the bottle with his piercing blue eyes “ — it still has a life.”

The base of the bottle gradually lifts up until it has levitated to a diagonal posture.

The bill passed unanimously. *** CJ May has been a part of the Yale community since 1988, when he started as a student at the School of Forestry & Environmental Studies; since 1990 he has coordinated Yale Recycling. He dresses like a cross between a recycler and office employee: his dark blue pants are constricted at his ankle by a reflective bicycling cuff, and over a collared shirt and tie he wears a Yale Recycling sweatshirt with “TALK TRASH TO ME” written in scraggly letters on the back. A patch — something like a scouting merit badge — is sewn on the left shoulder, commemorating Nov. 15, National Recycling Day. He has long gray hair that gets tied back with a black ribbon. It’s not uncommon to see him biking near campus wearing a neon yellow vest. But come the end of this fiscal year, as a result of budget cuts and administrative reorganization, May will no longer be Yale’s Recycler. *** Yale Recycling, the oldest student environmental group on campus, began in 1970, when a transfer student from Vassar College, Christiane Citron ’71 (“Almost like the car,” May quips) founded it.

“I don’t quite know what gave me the idea,” Citron recalls, “except seeing the masses of paper that were thrown away.”

Working with a handful of other students, she broached the recycling idea to the Office of Facilities. Though it would be something of an imposition, they were interested. “It was definitely Facilities [who enabled the effort],” Citron said. “I worked closely with the college garbagemen.”

A Yale Alumni Magazine article from December 1970 describes Citron’s “recycling experiment.” Though at first she struggled to convince people to save paper (“I was pretty preachy,” she says), within a semester her weekly pickups yielded 3,000 pounds of paper, which were sold to Dave’s Mill Supply in New Haven. The nearest glass bottle recycling plant was 80 miles away and the nearest can processing plant just as far, so the bottles and cans collected every week were stored under the baseball bleachers until there were enough collected to fill a truck.

May worked for Yale Recycling as a student at FES from 1988 to 1990. By that time, it had turned from a handful of students at the grassroots level into an official student organization. Work-

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ing for Recycling “was a brilliant part of my education; a great counter-juxtaposition to the Yale classroom,” he says. “It was like, you don’t have to just study, you can do something now!” The job was also empowering for women, he adds, saying that stereotypes of women were much more pervasive during his time there than they are now. “We didn’t have any of those domestic stereotypes — we had women driving giant trucks and lifting bins!”

In the late ’80s, the stakes of recycling got higher. Whereas solid waste disposal had been, as May says, “coffee money” — something like $17.50 per ton — disposal became much more expensive as recycling became more popular and landfills began to fill and close. (Now, he says, depending on where you are, the cost of solid waste disposal runs $50-$100 per ton.)

In 1987, Connecticut passed a law that mandated the recycling of certain items, including various kinds of paper, glass and metal food containers, cardboard, leaves and waste oil. At that point it became clear — partially through May’s own research for his master’s degree project — that student recyclers would be unable to handle all of Yale’s recycling efforts.

May was hired after graduation to oversee the existing student organization and initiate a more formal University program, deal with vendors, and ensure price competitiveness and compliance with recycling legislation. More recently, he has been the force behind a number of new initiatives including Spring Salvage, reusing surplus Yale materials and helping the University achieve waste reduction goals.

Citron fell out of touch with Yale Recycling after her graduation but has reconnected in the past 10 years. Although she no longer lives in New Haven, she comes back for reunions and other Association of Yale Alumni events. “I discovered CJ and we totally bonded,” she says. “I am filled with admiration for what he has accomplished. By the time I got back in touch he was flourishing, booming, doing stuff — like a pied piper.”

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across the University, come July will he no longer have a job at Yale.

“Different pieces of the job are being picked up by different offices, including the Provost’s Office and students,” explains Kara Tavella, associate director of administration and human resources for the Office of Facilities. “There are a lot of metrics to keep track of in recycling, and Facilities, which handles waste, isn’t the best office to be keeping track of those metrics.”

It’s easy to think that cutting the recycling coordinator position is a step backward for Yale Recycling — a casualty of budget cuts, a stab at those who make up institutional memory. But, as Charles Zhu ’11 explains, it is also part of Yale’s realization that recycling and sustainability can be integrated more holistically into its operations. Neither should exist as an isolated office, Zhu says; rather, they should permeate many different departments.

In 2010, the Office of Sustainability released a strategic plan, which includes goals to decrease Yale’s solid municipal waste by 25 percent by 2013. “A lot of different subauthorities were working on sustainability or related issues in separate ways,” Zhu says. “Now the Office of Sustainability is trying to integrate all of those so that all of the separate authorities can be behind one plan.”

The most visible change in recycling at Yale in the past year has been the transition to single-stream recycling, which eliminates the need for individuals to separate recyclables into categories: paper, metals and glass can all be placed in the same container. After a pilot program last year, nearly all the receptacles in the residential colleges have been relabeled over the past semester, and the obsolete “highboy” contain-

CJ’S GETTING LAID OFF IS ONE OF THOSE THINGS THAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN AND NO ONE’S GOING TO KNOW ABOUT.

Students continued to be involved in Yale Recycling with May at its helm.

May says that the most practical and fun part of his Yale education was driving the recycling truck, and the truck, now a Yale-blue Dodge pickup, has lured students to join as Yale recycling volunteers and employees throughout May’s time at Yale. “How to Be Environmental at Yale … and why to Bother,” a YSEC publication from 1995, explained with cheeky pride: “Picking up 55-gallon drums full of mixed paper or plastics is not an easy job — but … we have a large rack-body pickup truck to help us in our efforts. The utilization of a large commercial vehicle … brings certain privileges … [including] exemption from all parking regulations, admiring stares from pedestrians, and free transportation to New York. Driving a large commercial vehicle commands respect seldom experienced by the lesser echelons of the Yale community.” *** But May’s recycling truck rounds are soon to be over. With budget constraints forcing restructuring and reorganization

“SHAPING SPACE IN MODERN PAINTING”

Yale University Art Gallery // 3:00 p.m.

Victoria Rogers ’12 discusses angles on art.

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ers replaced with more up-todate “Slim Jim bins.”

According to Bob Ferretti, Yale’s waste and recycling manager, in 2009, Yale set the goal of increasing its recycling rate, then 21 percent, by 25 percent by 2013.

The rate so far this fiscal year is 28 percent, exceeding the 25 percent increase.

Making recycling more convenient through singlestream is part of the process of achieving that goal.

As a result of the transition, custodians only have to pull one bag of recyclables, and only one truck has to be sent to a collection point, rather than a different truck for each type of recyclable. Therein may lie one irony of single-stream: recycling coordinator May has been working on the transition, but SEE RECYCLING PAGE B8

“THE GLOBAL 1990S: LOOKING BACK ON THE END OF HISTORY”

Whitney Humanities Center // 4:00 p.m.

Take a deep breath, guys; we’ve still got time. This event is 11 months, one day before the end of the Mayan calendar.

“END TIME FOREVER: ON CINEMATIC SLOWNESS”

Linsly-Chittenden Hall // 4:00 p.m.

If only we could end time forever before that first paper (it’s sooner than you think).

“

We are not to throw away those things which can benefit our neighbor. Goods are called good because they can be used for good: they are instruments for good, in the hands of those who use them properly.

”

-CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA

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YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

WEEKEND ARTS

‘THREADS OF INFLUENCE’: A WELL-TOLD TALE // BY JACK LINSHI

// YALE NEWS

“Threads of Influence” is on display at the Robert B. Haas Family Arts Library.

“Threads of Influence,” an exhibition featuring works by graphic designer Tom Morin ART ’68, is excellent. But at leastat first glance, it seemed nothing more than an ordinary library display case. Obscurely nestled in the corner of the lower floor of the Robert B. Haas Family Arts Library, its layout is neither extravagant nor unique. Even the selected works of Morin are mundane.

The excellence of the exhibit lies, rather, in the skill of curator Jae Rossman. Whereas most curators select the best pieces of an artist under a particular theme or time period, it appears that Rossman has chosen a selection of mainly mediocre works ranging through Morin’s entire lifetime. Here, the tradeoff is the inclusion of many unimpressive designs for the sake of presenting a retrospective on Morin’s artistic career.

To me, at least, the opportunity to clearly trace the artistic

development of the essentially nonfamous Morin is vastly more fulfilling than, for example, a disjointed Yale Center for British Art exhibition of famous British art.

The small exhibit starts with two works from Morin’s adolescence — an anatomically incorrect figure drawing that represents more of a ladybug than a man and a messy sketch of a two-dimensional boat magically floating on three-dimensional water. Both works show no signs of prodigy and, frankly, seem to herald an unpromising career in the arts. Fast-forward a few years and in the following glass case, we see Morin’s work while studying at Syracuse University. There is technical improvement in his original letterpress and stationery, but, as expected, there is nothing groundbreaking or impressive.

A handwritten letter (in Morin’s much more impressive cursive) to his parents while study-

ing abroad in Denmark is even included. Rossman, the curator, clearly has a focus on presenting an authenticity rather than glamorizing Morin’s unglamorous works. The result is an honest exhibition of mainly Morin’s art homework, and while these assignments often lack content, they are perfect fodder for this retrospective.

The rest of the exhibit, housed in 14 glass cases, traces the rest of Morin’s studies into his career. The bulk of the remaining displays are filled with Morin’s assignments for numerous professors during his time studying graphic design at the Yale School of Art. Elements of the student’s style can be traced back to his professors, whose art is conveniently dis-

played in panels directly above.

His assignments, as expected, are very standard and generally quite average. The viewer should be warned that Morin’s artistic training and development — not his professional designs — are the physical center of the exhibition. By the physical and chronological end of the presentation, which features works from Morin’s own design firm, his technique becomes more elaborate, meticulous and impressive. The retrospective even implies, perhaps intentionally on Rossman’s part, that artists are built, not necessarily born, contrary to the popular belief that artists are either artists or they’re not.

Ultimately, “Threads of

Influence” does not succumb to the pressure to make the artist more famous than he is — after all, a Google search of “Tom Morin” first yields results on some other Tom Morin. The exhibit deserves applause not for its fascinating content but for its storytelling ability. If you’re at all interested in how an artist develops, then “Threads of Influence” is a must-see.

Contact JACK LINSHI at jack.linshi@yale.edu .

Film Studies at Yale: Learning at 24 frames per second // BY PATRICE BOWMAN

Springtime is (not really) here.

But what the spring semester has brought us — besides cold, snow and cold snow — is a new batch of classes in the Film Studies Department. I’m in love with almost every single course.

But, for brevity’s sake, I bring to you the most promising.

Just in time for Shakespeare at Yale, there is “Shakespeare on Film.” Taught by Brian Walsh, this class goes beyond the words of the Bard and delves into the attempts of filmmakers to wrestle with the text and bring them successfully to the silver screen.

From well-known works like “Hamlet” to lesser-known ones such as “Titus Andronicus,” this class provides a glimpse of adaptations across time and worlds. The real gem may be “Chimes at Midnight,” for two reasons: it’s directed by and stars the brilliant (if not always successful) Orson Welles AND it’s quite difficult to obtain in the States.

“Classical Hollywood: Art and Industry,” taught by J.D. Connor, is all about my favorite era of Hollywood and its history — its challenges both internal and external, its changes and its transformation into a moviechurning dream factory. It was the time of that slightly affected mode of acting matched by overzealous music. Ahhh, bliss.

The class is sticking with the

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well-known basics of “Psycho,” “Citizen Kane” and “Singin’ in the Rain.” While it’s a shame that lesser-known films aren’t present on the list of screenings, those featured in the class represent a variety of styles and moods, and most have been placed on numerous American Film Institute “best of” lists.

Besides, there’s a reason why the same films are studied and critically acclaimed over and over

Censorship in American Film,” taught by Ronald Gregg (who, last semester, taught “Introduction to Film Studies,” a class that I took and EVERYONE should take) chronicles the internal struggles of the film industry to balance public concerns of morality with filmmakers’ desire to address mature content. The course begins with such films as “Trouble in Paradise” and “The Merry Widow,” created during

uniquely pessimistic American film mood (NOT genre) that the French called film noir. The world film noir paints is not one of Technicolor musicals and adventures or soft-focus melodramas. It’s a bleak, concrete playground where all the underworld degenerates and femmes fatales prey upon the weak.

The lineup for the class, which is a survey of film noir from the 1940s to the 1950s, is exciting

BESIDES, THERE’S A REASON WHY THE SAME FILMS ARE STUDIED AND CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED OVER AND OVER AGAIN: THEY HAPPEN TO BE PRETTY GOOD. again: they happen to be pretty good.

Maybe you’re not interested in classical Hollywood for some obscure reason. Maybe the films seem too bloodless.

Well, if you thought that Hollywood from the 1930s until the ’60s was squeaky-clean, think again. “Sexual Modernity and

the “pre-Code era,” when censorship was lax. The course goes on to chronicle the growing sexuality of films, the clamp down by the Production Code and, finally, the breakdown of censorship.

Alan Trachtenberg’s “Detection and the City in Film Noir and Fiction” is dedicated to that

YALE ANIME SOCIETY PRESENTS: “ZIPANG”

Saybrook TV Room // 7:30 p.m.

Yet another classic from our favorite club at Yale.

too: the prototypical film noir “The Maltese Falcon,” the “first” film noir “Double Indemnity,” and the last of the “classic” cycle of film noir, “Touch of Evil.”

Although it seems to me that such earlier films as “The Maltese Falcon” — about a detective who becomes entangled with an unsavory group seeking a trea-

CALL ME COOKIE’S FIRST COOKIE HOUR

37 Lynwood // 7:00 p.m.

We’re so there.

sured bird — and “Laura” — yet another detective, who tries to solve the murder of a socialite — lack such definitive film noir signifiers as light filtering through blinds, stifling darkness and urban decay, they both have their share of perverse characters and horrible deeds. Who doesn’t like to turn their smiles upside down once in a while?

The complicated legacy of films like “Shaft,” “Foxy Brown” and “Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song” are given another look in Terri Francis’ course “Blaxploitation Reexamined”.

Blaxploitation was a black film subgenre of the 1970s distinguished by its funk/soul music (that “wah-wah” sound), baadasssss blacks spitting jive way too hip for me and sticking it to “The Man” … despite the fact that some of the movies were being created by white people in some capacity. Awkward. Were such films examples of black empowerment or just a perpetuation of old, yet potent, stereotypes?

For a less America-centric view on filmmaking and analysis, there is Dudley Andrew’s “World Cinema.” How do films like “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” and “The 400 Blows” reflect their respective countries and fit into the interconnected world? Another film to be screened is “The Battle of

“CORIOLANUS”

Whitney Humanities Center // 8:00 p.m.

The Bard is at it again. Damn, he’s good.

Algiers,” which concerns Algerian insurgents’ battle against French colonial occupiers during the 1950s and ’60s. It’s a tough, black-and-white film that nearly borders on documentary, as it details the heavy losses on both sides. In fact, the most striking part of the film is its even-handedness. The French are neither brutes nor benevolent oppressors, and the guerrillas can’t be neatly categorized as crazed terrorists or romanticized rebels.

Enough about all these film classes that don’t fit in my schedule. As for my personal choice, I’m taking “Spanish in Film” with Margherita Tortora, an L5 class that offers an appealing exploration of Spanish culture via celluloid. Movies like “Let’s Go with Pancho Villa,” an interesting — if too brief — look at the price of the Mexican Revolution and masculinity showcase the interesting cinema of the Spanish-speaking world that you probably wouldn’t experience anywhere else.

You definitely aren’t reading this article just to miss out on these films. If you’re interested, look up course syllabi for further information on screenings.

Contact PATRICE BOWMAN at patrice.bowman@yale.edu .

“

Recycling is a good thing to do. It makes people feel good to do it. The thing I want to emphasize is the vast difference between recycling for the purpose of feeling good and recycling for the purpose of solving the trash problem.

”

-BARRY COMMONER

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

PAGE B5

WEEKEND LIBRARIES

A WORLD OF BOOKS, COLLECTIONS AT THE CROSSROADS // BY YANAN WANG

For most students, the library is a place of work. It is a refuge from the sometimes unduly social atmosphere of a college campus — a haven in which papers and problem sets are completed under the glare of rows of computer screens and fluorescent lights.

But what about the library as a maze? As a story, tucked within discarded card catalogues? What about the library as a playground?

These are the questions posed by “Library Science”, an exhibit now on display at Artspace in downtown New Haven. The exhibition features the work of 17 international artists, all of whose work explores the aesthetic and representative nature of the world of books. Together, their artwork creates a poignant narrative about the recent history of the library. Touching on the experiences that people derive from books, manuscripts, and other archival materials, “Library Science” presents the library as a canvas for observation and art.

“The staff at the Yale University Library also thinks about these ideas,” Jae Rossman, assistant director of special collections at the Robert B. Haas Family Arts Library, said. “What is important about the history of our library, and how can we bring that forward? What should the future Yale library be?”

The curator of “Library Science,” Rachel Gugelberger, said that the exhibit is the longest project she has ever worked on.

As the daughter of a librarian, she remembers the moments she spent with her mother recycling and sorting the old cards that were no longer of use.

“It was a point of recognition,” Gugelberger said, when she discovered art that had been inspired by such library relics. “Both libraries and artwork have the capacity to chronicle a moment in time. They serve as cultural manifestations that reflect on our world.”

Visitors to the exhibit are drawn at once to its interactive offerings, which outline the personal connection that libraries foster between books and their readers. At the front of the gallery is a work by Mickey Smith titled “In Memoriam.” In order to view other photographs by the artist, the viewer has to ascend a platform made entirely of discarded Federal Reporters books, walking along the spines to approach the display. These volumes were once a staple at every law firm in America. Long since digitized, the volumes are virtually valueless, thus garnering their place on the ground as mere pathways to the other works on display.

According to Artspace educational curator Martha Lewis, the piece is a demonstration of how objects that were once necessary can be rendered obsolete. This is the fear of all librarians: that in a world of online encyclopedias and digital texts, books will one

F R I D AY JA N UA RY 2 0

day be declared useless, thrown out like the volumes on which visitors are invited to step.

But for now, at least, books still hold a certain aura of sanctity.

“There is always a moment of pause for visitors standing in front of the platform,” said Lewis.

“People are still nervous to step on books.”

Moving through the gallery, there are other pieces of similar whimsy and experimentalism. Blane de St. Croix’s “Library Fire: Landscapes,” for instance, includes a rolling library ladder that visitors are encouraged to climb. Once at the top of the ladder, they can pull themselves toward a bookshelf filled with ink drawings of charred landscapes, minimalist pictures meant to represent the analogous endangered state of both libraries and nature in the modern world.

De St. Croix’s installation is only one of the many works portraying an attempt to salvage things that are on the cusp of being lost.

With “Subliminal Messages,” David Bunn magnifies the personal interactions between humans and text through blownup cards from the Los Angeles Central Library’s discarded card catalogue. Bunn compiled cards that showed evidence of being touched by a human — markings such as fingerprints, tearstains, water marks and doodles were carefully filed and preserved. The card titled “Youth U.S.” features the card catalogue entry for the book “Mexican-American Youth: Forgotten Youth at the Crossroads” with a black-ink, handwritten pronouncement of “Racist” scrawled diagonally across the bottom.

Cards such as these remind visitors of the intimacy of reading and writing that has been lost with the advent of the digital age. Despite the plethora of word-processing software now available, complete with functions that allow users to highlight, underline, and make notes on texts as if they were reading from real pages, there still exists no replacement for the immediacy of scribbling one’s thoughts across a lined page. A sentence typed in rage appears the same on the computer screen as a sentence typed in tranquility or joy.

“I think libraries are quite inspiring because they resonate both past and present; sort of a Janus,” Yale University Librarian Susan Gibbons said. “The books, manuscripts, maps, and archives in a library speak to millennia of human knowledge and endeavours.”

While some works in the exhibit mark the now-forgotten elements of libraries past, others use technology to show how the digital can merge with the material. Jorge Mendez Blake’s “Project for Pavillion/Open Library III” is a skeletal model of a library made of plexiglass. Its futuristic

structure shapes the library as a dizzying yet angular labyrinth of translucent tiles. The “forking paths” are meant to convey the multiple ways in which one can interpret a text, but the hollowness of the model also demonstrates the various ways in which the library can be conceived as a space for creation, art and scholarship.

“I think libraries are a perfect space of inspiration for artists,” said Kraig Binkowski, chief librarian at the Yale Center for British Art. “Space-wise, the structured uniformity and familiarity of libraries can provide the perfect contrast to the wideopen, unpredictable expression of an artist.”

Art major Ilana Harris-Babou ’13, who helped to set up “Library Science” last summer as a Presidential Public Service Fellow, contends that the role libraries play as artistic monuments is undoubtable: “The installations in the ‘Library Science’ project augment the pre-existing visual experience of the library. The show forces us not to overlook the many aesthetic choices that go into creating our grand indexes.”

The exhibit mirrors the depth of a library: the more time you spend looking at a component of it, the more meaning you are able to derive from it. At first glance, Nina Katchadourian’s “Sorting Books” series seems to be just a compilation of photographs of books on shelves. When the book spines are read in sequence, however, they create clever word play.

One image depicts four books stacked on top of each other with their titles screaming boldly from their spines: “KINDS OF LOVE” — “ECSTASY” — “SENSATION” — “DISTEMPER”.

The most ironic work comes in the form of David Bunn’s “No Voyager Record,” a slide projection offset from the rest of the gallery by lavender curtains and presenting slides of library catalogue cards from the Brooklyn Museum of Art Library. The cards had been discarded as a part of the library’s Voyager Project, during which they replaced their entire card catalogue with digital hardware. As it turns out, the digital files crashed and librarians had to scavenge disposal boxes in search of the old cards that had previously been discarded for the project. Bunn questions the viability and practicality of transitioning into a completely digital

database of knowledge.

“I cannot predict what the library of the future will look like, because I feel like it will be invisible to us. We will access information through our devices, and the physical structures may cease to exist,” said Gugelberger.

For her, the beginnings of the project stemmed from a sense of urgency surrounding the vulnerability of the library as we know it. “Library Science” is a study of the relationship between libraries and art, but most of all, it is a tribute to libraries past and present, a quiet elegy for all the catalogues, annotations, and old books that might be lost in the process of digitization.

For now, though, librar-

ies like Sterling and Bass remain indomitable presences on campus and in our lives. As Maru Filiba ’15 commented, “The silence, the smell of old books, even examining the different types of typographies can act as inspiration for people to create.”

“Library Science” will be on display at Artspace until Jan. 28.

Contact YANAN WANG at yanan.wang@yale.edu .

I

// LIBRARY SCIENCE

“Library Science” is showing this month at Artspace.

YALE CONTRA DANCE WITH BILL FISCHER AND STACY PHILLIPS Afro-American Cultural Center // 8:00 p.m.

Yale, time to get your dance on.

RED HOT POKER AND PURPLE CRAYON JOINT SHOW!!!

Davenport Theater // 9:00 p.m.

Our favorite funny people joining together to be even more funny. Bound to be a good time!

WEEKEND BLOG LAUNCH PARTY WKND Lounge, 202 York // 9:30 p.m. - 12:00 a.m.

Consider this an open invitation.

“

The ever-mounting glut of waste materials is characteristic by-product of modern ‘consumer society’ … To consume means, literally, ‘to destroy or expend,’ and in the garbage crisis we confront the underlying truth of a society in which enormous productive capacities and market forces have harnessed human needs and desires, without regard to the long or even short-term future of life on the planet.

”

-STUART EWEN

PAGE B6

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

PAGE B7

WEEKEND SHAKESPEARE

n o t e n n o S ic t e g A Semi-Apolo ’s e r a e p s e k a h S f Behalf o y it r e t s o P l u f e t a Ungr

On Sonne ts

// BY BAO

BAO ZHA NG

B

ecause Shakespeare reigns supreme this semester, because we we met the loves of our lives in a Shakespeare lecture last semester, because our confidence rests in the canon, because we identify with Hamlet’s existential angst and because Stratford-upon-Avon takes our breath away, we dedicate these hallowed pages to the Bard we love to love.

I

went to W b uy to o algreens today t h pa s te . to ton , a tra was fill The s teddy be ed with red and to re seal carv nsplanted sapli ed with n ars and c ng, a p in k, S h hoc atu Strolling down th olate hearts. th akespeare’s son re’s beauty. n a u se o u nets em e ordina s. The s e aisles, I felt b tu appear m ry world, yet the ody smirked y each at me wit ffed animals ore colorf than Kod h cheeky They see ul and bri ach g m lliant YOU!” li ed to mouth “I rins. “ T h e s rome.

LOVE ke a cult o n n e t s b r im exc e s s, didn’t he is bu lp that la h chant. It w them gre t that’s what m it h broke m y heart. st night a boy at,” Eng a ke s David K li W street co astan to sh professor rner for e stood at a ld my cla Tuesday a minute silence — . “Yo ss o befo — “Valenti re parting ways in phrase them u can’t just pa n . n ra.” e ’s Day is so I thoug At the c bla ht like Shak to myself. No nd,” greens, I ash register at pic t Wale poems h speare’s sonnets hing hearts. R ked up a box of candy eading th a . roses, kis ve their fair sh The sages, I e ir little m n are of s jealousy. o longer felt reg esbut more es, and summer ret V d a o a le ft ys, ba en, th p oss ib il d paraph ntine’s Day is ju or it ie s. T h ey brim with ra st a s e o f love. e ines his b eloved as p o e t im a g a selfish Contact glutBAOBAO ZH

L A L I CO H S MPA RE TH EE ! o d r a SONN B l E ¡ ET 15 5

// BY F

O

REDD

Fate!

T Is bu o suffer u t a cu nrequ t B My w ut yet my of the ete ited love rn ound pain I can al thread is dee not r ; p — is Thre for yo e u, my e above, And c crones, c love, r are d So th los’d your uel hags, h ead. at yo l a i p v e mad s with ur wi But m e a t t n t ore th h y c an du tongue c ient kiss eir cold d an ne ecree of de st; le Thou ath v s er s mou g th, sa be And s h I may b ns tee r th, no I have cribble sc eathe the r breat w i n p Ther o way to ture fro ords you h. e lies m c c a a t n p h n t e wor the th ure y o t s pe ds o ough t that ur mystiq you writ ak, e, ue; keeps Pity t h me u To ha e stars ha p at n ve no v ight. muse e ordered death is now fo my d Cont estin r thee act FR y.

ED w DIE

RAMO Sa os@y ale.ed t u.

ay is why we take aw Perhaps this guilt eath to a nobler heir. qu Your laurels, to be are passe, en from Stratford ere. sm es sin bu all Sm th t no is at th e mask So we pluck off th the en will they learn O mortal fools, wh truth? ent’s e sharp than serp Ingratitude’s mor tooth.

RGEANT at Contact ALEXI SA le.edu . alexi.sargeant@ya

?

Y A D S ’ TO A SUMMER baobao.z h

ANG at

ang@yale

.edu .

a se , I n a ny c n ). ! ly n o .” If uld be Johnson ur campus wo rom the h it w f o n yo u h e - I think taking a break r c u re t t b u rd e w il l n o c o n s p ira c y ro te efit from ea rea n h a m m s of its t d p n w a s a e e r h e k o r a e n a Sh , th ig pe eating rvantes S h a k e s e ts. E n d o f rently b . M iguel de Ce e Levin o r ie s . n n o s o r d t s n n ys a fo r c o n student And before Ja estion, h is p la g not one e HBO dirty ? ’m I . y anyone joy at my sug We s t r n o o st ality r et, as e e y o h r f t d h s n e p it a a , id w ,” versy ut le u s s te p o u ts touch b f o ad Gita lp v t e a u g h o blonde ks: I couldn’t y d e d - le t anon: the “Bha Co r t á za r. h ,” c as always so m e t h in g . W e r o n ly ern Ta le o f G e n ji r t á za r b u t o e t r s h C e e T t d “ m o n le n o s w n t ire o n o t O kay m ayb e pe. So, my apo e D n ? a n e o b v o A h lu ica t I C f ly . o n for it ethan ca n o B a rd to t h e rong — I’m all ding all one to t h e E li za b our copies y s a w get me h delight in re d ro t - og ie verybody, drop ond! Long c e an ec t s u e b n o very mu e d a u g h te rs r n il anto!

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// BY ANY A GRENIE

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// BY ANTO

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we all salute, Bard of Avon whom er midst this winter’s tale, mm With dreams of su ll and mute, ns fall leaden, du pe h ug When our ro fail. thine doth never Usurping words of t’s in a name?” be without “Wha stage.”

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// BY JO

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// BY ALEXI SARG

I make oh boy, did e pery, o b d n A ss. r th moved e ssion. Afte I had just r th e a first impre rents spoke and I . e in n s a a w fo rmance, p kespeare” Re h ea rsa l to O h io. d e “ G o d s a n d fo ght the name “Sha ed the u a ra c fu ll so I assum e c h . s, fo u rt h g in e s m a ti w l ra y seve th e sp e s” p la G o d d e ss e d e it ie s h a d a lrea dy m a n h a d w ri tte n arned that le e sw in g , th n d I wa s a b o u t to Since then, I have actually be ,a ot n n e h y a w m rn h o b e e n ca st c the my spee d and forl However, e act dejecte sked me to perform part of the canon. th y b it was ra my teache ca ll e d “ Bewa re th e fact that I thought im. I credh so m e th in g h.” I was thrilled! bard made me adore notoriety arc g! y new in m n h te it h w Ides of M er ig ited him ill be forev c h wa s fr T h e sp e e ! A n d it wa s lo u d ! and Shakespeare w urth grade fo ry It wa s go ther kids shrugged associated with my o e s, it th b e ir il e Wh h th led throug rength of cool. and mumb st e th ll GER at a h it TONIA CZIN I roared w elociraptor. I waved Contact AN .edu . le v ya t a o r@ e fo ge a fourhead lik tonia .czin y n a m e v o b a o p ri e st my arms ze d vo o d o so rt o f c ra

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f not for Sh not be s akespeare, I wou it ld abo u ford Libra ting in the Bra n- here t I took to mum ry right n this. How bling in ntly ra o w , ty me into c come? Shakespea ping explain w ther than tryin co- prising le ad ollege. L re got hy this h g to g ite a good id a my C o m eneratio ers of the new n, all min ea. Thes d seemed like mon Ap rally: I wrote s h o we d e feeling grew as p e s s ay the first e really s I ti ab w mer N ig me I read “A Mid out replies la first started rece only really, rea e re t h a t I … s ll h s iv t after I tu t’s Dream.” Not um- into deta spring. Without ing So I d id y liked to read. ils rn g I began ed in my applica long kids posti , I was not one of oing would do wh a t a nyo n e :I th ti h n about m aving serious d ons, as my Fac g things like “15 ose cle, sacrifi drew a pentay choice / oubts e ced a cou 1 b 2 o !! o ” go k statu of un ter. I fou p nd myse subject mat- c d e rs ta n d wh y s. I couldn’t s ats and begged S le of h the abys , p lf gazing h akee o in a o re s s in te ’s g to ad of g s to the ad host to appear folder on of the “college into somethin write my essay m a s g tu b is like my ti o ff ” ing find wha my computer, o me resea ut of whatev sions officer crustac n t an extrem suddenly seeme ly to cle or the eans in the Arcti rch- chose to er school he c m d d topic sta ely insubstantial like I chose th eath of my pet Cir- And I ca ake my case. k n ring bac e o e s a e s la a v y e , r ab this is ex only assume k of Shake friends actl speare’s stract “magic a s ke d m at me. When p o w e wh a t written ened, be y what hapther peo ords.” W my Com I had p ca u se h h le il ’s e essays w m o n Ap p am. vincing ere I ere c ad essay they we missions board ons re resou rceful, e that Contact ANYA GR nterENIER a an ya .grenie r@

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// CASEY MCLAUGHLIN

S AT U R D AY JA N UA RY 2 1

“THE GLOBAL 1990S: LOOKING BACK ON THE END OF HISTORY” Whitney Humanities Center // 10:00 a.m.

Nirvana is getting back together and the legendary John MacKay is lecturing (sounds like a don’t-miss).

ARCHITECTURE TOUR

Yale Center for British Art // 11:00 a.m.

You can dance if you want to.

“ONE YALE, ONE COMMUNITY, ONE DREAM” Afro-American Cultural Center // 11:00 a.m.

Wrap yourself in a peace quilt.

“

Listen up, you couch potatoes: each recycled beer can saves enough electricity to run a television for three hours.

”

-DENIS HAYES

BEST BUDDIES FIRST MEETING Dwight Hall Library // 12:30 p.m.

Best Buddies at Yale matches Yale students in one-to-one friendships with residents of the New Haven community who have intellectual and developmental disabilities.

THE MET AT YALE PRESENTS: “THE ENCHANTED ISLAND”

Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Hall // 12:55 p.m.

Guys, check it out! It’s Andy Samberg’s new opera!

YALE RELAY FOR LIFE — KICKOFF! Dwight Hall // 1:00 p.m.

Everyone should join the fight against cancer.

“

The case for recycling is strong. The bottom line is clear. Recycling requires a trivial amount of our time. Recycling saves money and reduces pollution. RecyYale Center for British Art // 1:00 p.m. cling creates more jobs than landfilling or incineration. And a largely ignored but Look at some art, be cultured. very important consideration, recycling reduces our need to dump our garbage in someone else’s backyard.

EXHIBITION TOUR: “JOHAN ZOFFANY RA: SOCIETY OBSERVED”

”

-DAVID MORRIS OF THE INSTITUTE FOR LOCAL SELF-RELIANCE

PAGE B6

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

PAGE B7

WEEKEND SHAKESPEARE

n o t e n n o S ic t e g A Semi-Apolo ’s e r a e p s e k a h S f Behalf o y it r e t s o P l u f e t a Ungr

On Sonne ts

// BY BAO

BAO ZHA NG

B

ecause Shakespeare reigns supreme this semester, because we we met the loves of our lives in a Shakespeare lecture last semester, because our confidence rests in the canon, because we identify with Hamlet’s existential angst and because Stratford-upon-Avon takes our breath away, we dedicate these hallowed pages to the Bard we love to love.

I

went to W b uy to o algreens today t h pa s te . to ton , a tra was fill The s teddy be ed with red and to re seal carv nsplanted sapli ed with n ars and c ng, a p in k, S h hoc atu Strolling down th olate hearts. th akespeare’s son re’s beauty. n a u se o u nets em e ordina s. The s e aisles, I felt b tu appear m ry world, yet the ody smirked y each at me wit ffed animals ore colorf than Kod h cheeky They see ul and bri ach g m lliant YOU!” li ed to mouth “I rins. “ T h e s rome.

LOVE ke a cult o n n e t s b r im exc e s s, didn’t he is bu lp that la h chant. It w them gre t that’s what m it h broke m y heart. st night a boy at,” Eng a ke s David K li W street co astan to sh professor rner for e stood at a ld my cla Tuesday a minute silence — . “Yo ss o befo — “Valenti re parting ways in phrase them u can’t just pa n . n ra.” e ’s Day is so I thoug At the c bla ht like Shak to myself. No nd,” greens, I ash register at pic t Wale poems h speare’s sonnets hing hearts. R ked up a box of candy eading th a . roses, kis ve their fair sh The sages, I e ir little m n are of s jealousy. o longer felt reg esbut more es, and summer ret V d a o a le ft ys, ba en, th p oss ib il d paraph ntine’s Day is ju or it ie s. T h ey brim with ra st a s e o f love. e ines his b eloved as p o e t im a g a selfish Contact glutBAOBAO ZH

L A L I CO H S MPA RE TH EE ! o d r a SONN B l E ¡ ET 15 5

// BY F

O

REDD

Fate!

T Is bu o suffer u t a cu nrequ t B My w ut yet my of the ete ited love rn ound pain I can al thread is dee not r ; p — is Thre for yo e u, my e above, And c crones, c love, r are d So th los’d your uel hags, h ead. at yo l a i p v e mad s with ur wi But m e a t t n t ore th h y c an du tongue c ient kiss eir cold d an ne ecree of de st; le Thou ath v s er s mou g th, sa be And s h I may b ns tee r th, no I have cribble sc eathe the r breat w i n p Ther o way to ture fro ords you h. e lies m c c a a t n p h n t e wor the th ure y o t s pe ds o ough t that ur mystiq you writ ak, e, ue; keeps Pity t h me u To ha e stars ha p at n ve no v ight. muse e ordered death is now fo my d Cont estin r thee act FR y.

ED w DIE

RAMO Sa os@y ale.ed t u.

ay is why we take aw Perhaps this guilt eath to a nobler heir. qu Your laurels, to be are passe, en from Stratford ere. sm es sin bu all Sm th t no is at th e mask So we pluck off th the en will they learn O mortal fools, wh truth? ent’s e sharp than serp Ingratitude’s mor tooth.

RGEANT at Contact ALEXI SA le.edu . alexi.sargeant@ya

?

Y A D S ’ TO A SUMMER baobao.z h

ANG at

ang@yale

.edu .

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// CASEY MCLAUGHLIN

S AT U R D AY JA N UA RY 2 1

“THE GLOBAL 1990S: LOOKING BACK ON THE END OF HISTORY” Whitney Humanities Center // 10:00 a.m.

Nirvana is getting back together and the legendary John MacKay is lecturing (sounds like a don’t-miss).

ARCHITECTURE TOUR

Yale Center for British Art // 11:00 a.m.

You can dance if you want to.

“ONE YALE, ONE COMMUNITY, ONE DREAM” Afro-American Cultural Center // 11:00 a.m.

Wrap yourself in a peace quilt.

“

Listen up, you couch potatoes: each recycled beer can saves enough electricity to run a television for three hours.

”

-DENIS HAYES

BEST BUDDIES FIRST MEETING Dwight Hall Library // 12:30 p.m.

Best Buddies at Yale matches Yale students in one-to-one friendships with residents of the New Haven community who have intellectual and developmental disabilities.

THE MET AT YALE PRESENTS: “THE ENCHANTED ISLAND”

Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Hall // 12:55 p.m.

Guys, check it out! It’s Andy Samberg’s new opera!

YALE RELAY FOR LIFE — KICKOFF! Dwight Hall // 1:00 p.m.

Everyone should join the fight against cancer.

“

The case for recycling is strong. The bottom line is clear. Recycling requires a trivial amount of our time. Recycling saves money and reduces pollution. RecyYale Center for British Art // 1:00 p.m. cling creates more jobs than landfilling or incineration. And a largely ignored but Look at some art, be cultured. very important consideration, recycling reduces our need to dump our garbage in someone else’s backyard.

EXHIBITION TOUR: “JOHAN ZOFFANY RA: SOCIETY OBSERVED”

”

-DAVID MORRIS OF THE INSTITUTE FOR LOCAL SELF-RELIANCE

PAGE B8

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

WEEKEND COVER

RECYCLING MAGIC RECYCLING FROM PAGE B3 ultimately its ease may render his position obsolete.

After a Yalie throws an item in a single-stream receptacle, it is picked up by Yale’s custodial staff and taken to a transfer facility near the Quinnipiac Bridge in New Haven. From there it goes to a Materials Reclamation Facility (MRF, pronounced “merf”) in Berlin, Conn., 40 minutes north of New Haven, where a hightech machine sorts the recyclables. Along the machine’s conveyor belt there are optical eyes to determine the density of plastics, air streams to separate paper and magnets to grab metals.

The convenience could be too good to be true. The transition to single-stream nationwide has raised doubts about the increased rate of contamination as a result of mixing recyclables. In an October 2010 article in the Fort Collins, Colo. “Matter Daily” blog, that city’s senior environmental planner was quoted as saying that only 30 percent of glass dropped into commingled recycling actually made it to a second use — “on a good day.”

The director of New Haven’s Office of Sustainability, Christine Eppstein Tang, says, however, that the MRF where New Haven sends its recyclables (a different facility than Yale’s, in Willimantic, Conn.) estimates that 94 percent is recycled. Ferretti adds, “Industry-wide the switch [to single-stream] has seen a slight increase in contamination, but for the overall increase in volume [of recyclables] that slight increase is seen as insignificant. The MRFs are

equipped to handle it.” And the technology will only improve. *** And yet while Yale’s trucks lighten their rounds and the recycling bins get retrofitted, something is lost. “Spreading the pieces of the [recycling coordinator] job out,” as Tavella explains it, still costs May, a pillar of the community and committed employee of 20 years, his job. She acknowledges, “CJ works a lot with students, and I’m sure the students are feeling this as a loss.”

She’s right. Any student acquainted with CJ knows that his campus presence will be missed greatly.

“CJ’s getting laid off is one of those things that’s going to happen and no one’s going to know about,” Bendinelli says. “I don’t know the process for laying people off but I doubt there’s a hearing.”

(Which, given May’s past performances at public hearings, is too bad.)

Even if consolidation can eliminate the need for a recycling coordinator, students interviewed say May’s informal role on campus is as powerful and important as his formal job — one that cannot be replaced with streamlined recycling vessels.

“He has a long history here,” Bendinelli says. “He has meant a lot to a lot of people. He’s part of the community, and he does things you don’t expect — he goes above and beyond.”

Last year, Bendinelli says, May came back from an environmental conference and got in touch with Think Outside the Bottle — Bendinelli’s bottled water working group — to show them a DVD about water filtration he had brought back which he thought would interest them.

“

his family lives a lifestyle whose sustainability efforts have gained them local acclaim.

In 1995, an article appeared in the New Haven Register about the “Connecticut Diet.” May and his wife Becky May ’88 — who he calls “even more of a sustainability person than I am” — had decided to eat a diet of entirely Connecticut-grown food. “We were locavores before that was a word,” May says. (They made exceptions on Fridays, when they allowed themselves a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and a loaf of bread.) They kept it up for two years, but ended because “my wife got pregnant and had to have Froot Loops,” May says.

They still eat mostly local food, getting produce from both summer and winter CSAs from local farms, and doing some work on the farms. *** One of May’s roles takes on another identity entirely.

Zhu explains that once, while leading a Day of Service trip to the East Rock Park Green Expo to help plant new trees, he came across May not in his normal recycling garb — but a wizard’s robe. At first, he says, it was strange to see him in this new context, but May convinced the group to watch his show. “He gave us the cutest show about recycling, and it was also very informative,” Zhu says.

In the persona of Cyril the (Re)Sourcerer, May performs “Recycling is Magic,” a roughly 20-minute spectacle about a village that has everything — until a band of ogres comes and eats all the food and uses all of the village’s things.

May starts the show by dumping things all over the ground to show the ogres’ wastefulness:

IN OUR WORLD, THERE ARE NO WANDS OR HATS, BUT THERE IS A MAGIC BLUE BOX, AND A TRUCK THAT PICKS THINGS UP.

// YDN

S AT U R D AY JA N UA RY 2 1

SIGMA PSI ZETA SPRING RUSH 2012 LC 203 // 1:00 p.m.

We’ll be there.

HIGHLIGHTS TOUR

Yale University Art Gallery // 1:30 p.m.

Gallery teaching staff lead these interactive tours of the Gallery. Each tour is unique, and a range of objects and themes is considered.

“

“We didn’t ask for it — he was just thoughtful,” Bendinelli says.

“He takes time to think of others.

Those that know him have been touched by him.”

Like Bendinelli, Zhu got to know May through his work in YSEC. Zhu says May is always enthusiastic about getting students involved, and that May’s knowledge runs much deeper than just recycling: he’s a source of information about energy and composting as well as other related topics. He describes May’s informal role on campus as a “conduit between the students and the higher administration who could catalyze what should happen into what could happen.”

Zhu worked with May especially on Trash to Treasure, a collaboration between YSEC and Spring Salvage. “Even though it’s not really in his job description to do this,” Zhu says, echoing Bendinelli, “he went above and beyond and gave us all the information that was necessary to make the program a success, and a really educational experience. He gave us a big-picture view of waste at Yale and the whole reuse cycle.”

In New Haven, May has formal and informal roles as well. He led the Connecticut Recyclers Coalition from 2003 to 2011, and with

“it gets kids’ attention to see a grown-up dumping things,” he explains. Then a wizard with a staff comes to the village to clean up the mess. First he just cleans it up by making it disappear, but making everything go away is the wrong kind of magic! The villagers say, “if you make it all go away, we won’t have anything left!”

Then May brings the show into real life, and shows the solution.

He holds up a blue recycling bin.

“All you need is a magic box,” he says. “Put stuff in and you are making magic happen.” He makes sure to distinguish between magic and the reality of recycling.

“In our world, there are no wands or hats, but there is a magic blue box, and a truck that picks things up.” The reality is as wonderful as fantasy, he says.

May takes his show around the Northeast to schools, libraries and festivals. While many magicians are at their busiest around Halloween, he is most in demand around Earth Day. His goal for 2012 is to develop a show about water conservation — again with a village and a wizard — in addition to “Recycling is Magic.”

May first became interested in magic in 2004 as a result of Harry Potter mania. Thinking it would be fun to go to a magic show, he

“CORIOLANUS”

Whitney Humanities Center // 2:00 p.m.

Will, you get us every time.

found a local magician, Jim Sisti, on the internet; Sisti, learning that May was a recycler, showed him the trick that hooked May into learning magic for himself.

“There were all these newspaper scraps on the table,” May explains, “and he started putting them together. And then, FOOM! a newspaper back together again!” May says that he instantly thought of that transformation as a recycling process, and magic as a great way to illustrate recycling.

Usually, he says, to learn about recycling “you have to go to a plant and have someone jabber at you.” Magic is powerful to translate ideas, he says, and the idea of powerful magic in real life is a great metaphor.

More and more, May uses his wizard persona to talk to adults.

He presented at the Building Materials Reuse Association 2011 conference; at the College and University Recycling Council conference; and at a national recycling magazine conference in Indianapolis. When he presents to these professional groups, he says, the message isn’t instructional like it is for general audiences. These people already recycle, so “it’s like a pat on the back — you’re doing the magic.”

May has also incorporated magic into training programs at Yale. He has presented to labs, custodians and dining employees. When a new program starts, like the composting program in the dining hall, he says that magic makes things stick better. “People will remember it if I make a fish appear in a fishbowl!”

Green magic may seem like a tiny, esoteric niche, but there are eco-magicians across the country. Magic Magazine, the world’s largest-selling magazine for magicians, featured green magicians as its cover story in November 2011, with a spread that included May. May says there is no network of eco-magicians, but he has thought about starting “The Fellowship of Green Magicians.”

He also hopes that conventional magicians will start including more green magic in their shows, because “everyone knows that good wizards use their magic for good!” He adds, “My skill level is about Ron Weasley for magic, but higher for content.”

For all May’s practicing of sleight of hand and illusion, what really makes a difference to him is the message. He has spent his career at Yale putting that message into action, only to find that his innovations in recycling leaned so far forward that the University no longer found his job necessary. *** Suddenly May has a Sharpie in his hand. He uncaps it and writes something on his left palm. “If you don’t recycle, your trash goes to the B. To the B.” He puts the marker to the side and holds up his hand. There is a B written on it. “Right. Most people hear that and get a confused look on their face.” He stands up and starts agitatedly putting his hands in his pockets. He eventually pulls out a white Bic lighter from his back pocket, and turns on the flame.

“If you throw something away in New Haven, your trash goes to Bridgeport,” he says, bringing the flame closer and closer to the B on his left hand. He finally clasps his B-hand around the hand with the flame, and holds it there for a minute. He brings his clasped hands to his chest and holds them there, with his striking blue eyes continuing to stare straight out.

Finally, smoke begins to come out of his mouth. “It goes to B-B-Bridgeport, and it burns up … it all goes away in flames.” He coughs out the words, totally out of breath.

“

Contact CAROLINE TRACEY at caroline.tracey@yale.edu .

Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.

”

-NEW ENGLAND PROVERB

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

PAGE B9

WEEKEND FEATURE

Is it worth it? Examining the cost of art // BY AKBAR AHMED

“It was an unreal level of demand — six hours per week and a ton of outof-class time doing the actual painting,” said Cristina Vere Nicoll ’14 of the “Intro to Painting” class she took last fall.

The former art major recalled the significance of this expectation for one of her classmates in the small, intense seminar: “One girl had to drop out. She had to quit her job because of the time commitment involved with taking the class. But then she had to drop the class, because she couldn’t afford the equipment anymore.”

Producing high quality art is an expensive venture today. While art majors at other universities are allocated budgets or are eligible for special funding requests, students at Yale are expected to fully fund the cost of materials. Art major Olivia Schwob ’14 said she has spent more than $250 per art class so far.

Austin Lan ’13 detailed the monetary requirements of taking an art class: a $150 materials fee at enrollment, which goes toward the maintenance of machines and reusable tools, and then the additional expense of materials.

While this may be de rigeur for declared art majors, it complicates the decision process for students deciding whether to pursue the study of art.

“I’m definitely interested in the classes, but it just sucks that you have to pay to take them,” said Ryan Bowers ’14, a Theater Studies major.

Considering the state of the University’s budget, which (according to a Yale Daily News article from January 19) has yet to fully recover from the recession, further support for students enrolled in these classes is unlikely in the near future. So the question becomes a contextualized version of the age-old shopper’s dilemma: is it worth it?

BEING “TAKEN SERIOUSLY” AS AN ARTIST

A consensus seems to exist within the community of art students — despite the high costs and the hours (Nicoll and Schwob were both in a class that required them to be in the studio from noon to 3 a.m. at least once), a Yale art education is worth it.

This may largely be due to a certain Yale culture. “We take art very seriously here as an intellectual pursuit, because Yale’s kind of like a little bohemian enclave,” Schwob said.

That attitude means more of a focus on the thought behind the work and

S AT U R D AY JA N UA RY 2 1

less concern for employability, craft and matters of expense.

“There’s no way to avoid the materials fee, so I’m not going to let it affect what I do in terms of course choices,” said Lan. As far as she knows, she added, the expenses are not regularly discussed among students.

In the process of choosing a university and comparing art programs within the Ivies, Yale appealed to Schwob because art classes here take a more artist-centric approach than one focused solely on technique, she explained.

For many art students, Yale’s is the first setting in which they are considered more than just makers of pretty landscapes and still-lifes, said Nicoll.

“Here, I feel that I can sit down at a table with an engineer and garner an equal amount of respect,” she added.

Jen Mulrow ’14, also an art major, expressed a similar level of engagement.

“You get a lot out of art classes because you put a lot into [them].”

Going through that experience together makes people feel familiar and comfortable with each other within the art community, said Nicoll. “You develop a sense of camaraderie after coming out of the courses as a survivor.”

It’s this sense of looking out for each other that helps students identify ways to maneuver the costs and demands required of them, as they consult with each other and with professors for advice on where to get supplies for the best prices. Hull’s, the only supplies store in downtown New Haven, is highly overpriced, according to four students interviewed.

Some teachers tell students to go to Walgreen’s to buy certain materials, said Mulrow, while Nicoll explained that students in her painting class went to an arts supplies store called “Michael’s,” a 20-minute drive away, to avoid the prices at Hull’s. Lan said that professors try to keep expenses low for students. The community is, therefore, recognizing the problem and coming up with solutions that work, at least on the micro scale.

But the overwhelming feeling is that this is simply art students’ cross to bear. Attitudes within the academy emphasize that materials are worth the outlay when producing ‘good’ work, Schwob stressed.

“People know what they’re getting into once they’ve entered the major,” Lan stated.

STUDENT GUIDE TOUR

Yale Center for British Art // 2:00 p.m.

Cheers, mate.

WEIGHING A COSTLY WAY TO DABBLE

For students simply looking to explore their artistic side, however, the costs associated with enrolling in these classes can be a significant deciding factor.

“It definitely does deter people looking for an interesting fifth class — if you’re looking at a gut versus an art class that requires you to pay extra money, I think you’d be affected,” Ryan Bowers ’14 said.

Lan said a friend of hers interested in photography balked at the high price of the materials. Photography classes are notoriously costly, requiring students to pay anywhere from $150 to $1000 for chemicals and, if necessary, the purchase of a camera.

Her friend chose to take drawing instead.

This consideration can prevent nonart majors from exercising a part of their brain that’s very important and should not be allowed to atrophy, said Schwob.

“Taking these classes does great things for how you think and see the world,” she added. “They take your ideas seriously and enable a lot of personal growth.”

But even intro courses demand materials fees that are nothing to sneeze at.

With that weighing down on students, some choose to forgo the potential benefits of enrolling in these courses.

Nicoll said that courses at Yale, being especially rigorous, require that one produce “inordinate amounts of art.”

What lies behind that is a significant drain on one’s checking account to pay for a substantial amount of materials.

Claire Horrell ’14 said she would be willing to explore a class that cost up to $400 in materials, but probably not more than that.

“It’s not a determining factor, but it is [a consideration],” Bowers said.

Schwob said she gave the art department a shot, and has now chosen to “follow through on this part of her intellect.” Are you willing to try to do the same thing?

Contact AKBAR AHMED at akbar.ahmed@yale.edu .

“COULD A 4-YEAR-OLD MAKE THAT? A CLOSER LOOK AT CONEMPORARY ART”

Yale University Art Gallery // 3:00 p.m.

We’re going to guess yes. But Carla Giugale ’12 will probably tell you.

YALE ANIME SOCIETY PRESENTS: “WHISPER OF THE HEART” + BONUS FEATURE WLH 119 // 7:00 p.m.

We don’t know about you, but we can’t wait for that bonus feature.

“

What we are living with is the result of human choices and it can be changed by making better, wiser choices.

”

-ROBERT REDFORD

PAGE B10

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

WEEKEND COLUMNS

JUST SAY NO (TO AWFUL SEX)

It’s high time to ‘make it new’

STRAIGHT SINGLE MALES AT YALE Nice-looking One nippy New York night over break, I ventured across Manhattan to see The Artist, the prohibitive favorite for the Best Picture Oscar, at the Paris Theatre in midtown. As a coursing current of wide-eyed and well-bundled tourists carried me up 5th Avenue and the Plaza Hotel blazed into view around the 58th St. corner, I had a wonderful feeling that some good old-fashioned entertainment was in store. Willfully ignoring the $13 ticket price and the glowing Apple Store cube across the street, I threw myself into the Paris’s open art-deco arms, took my velvety seat, and waited for the silent smiles of the silver screen to send me back to a simpler time.

Unfortunately, for all its nostalgia and giddy fun, “The Artist” turned out to be just as newfangled as it was old-fashioned, the unmistakable product of a very complex time indeed. It doesn’t adopt the formal palette of silent films so much as it tinkers playfully with their conventions, and from the opening shot, which pulls back from a typically melodramatic silent-film scene to reveal a rapt theater audience, it’s not so much a movie about the past as a movie about the movies.

The story, though loosely derived from the actual decline of silent-film actor John Gilbert, draws more heavily on previous entries in the film genre of reflexive meta-fiction, especially Sunset Boulevard (1950) and the three versions of “A Star is Born” (1937, 1954, and 1976), all of which also had their movie stars enact the delusional risings and fallings of movie stars.

The Artist, as I found out, is a purposeful, gleefully postmodernist pastiche of allusions and appropriations, cribbing from Douglas Fairbanks, Busby Berkeley, Fritz Lang, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Orson Welles, Alfred Hitchcock, Bernard Herrmann, Billy Wilder and many more. But even on a night when I’m in the mood for something old-fashioned, I don’t walk into the theater looking for appropriation, or repossession, or rearrangement; I walk in wanting something that takes film tradition and makes it new.

“Make it new!” were the three words Ezra Pound used to sum up his take on the philosophy of modernism; he used them in 1937, and it might be regressively backward-looking of me to champion even so forwardlooking an idea now. But as

ALEC JOYNER GUEST COLUMN Very rare

Woody Allen and Terrence Malick showed this year with “Midnight in Paris” and “The Tree of Life, nostalgia can be fun, instructive, redemptive, generally beneficial, as long as it isn’t all-consuming.

The trend that concerns me in the prominent movies of 2011 is not one of nostalgia, exactly, but one of a deleterious unoriginality.

Michael Hazanavicius, the writer and director of “The Artist,” has called his movie a “love letter to cinema”; This is the vocabulary not of a filmmaker, but of a fanboy. Martin Scorcese, one of the greatest filmmakers of all time, spent 2011 glorifying the work of others: his “Hugo” is an homage to the early years of film history and especially to the pioneering efforts of Georges Méliès. And Simon Curtis’s “My Week with Marilyn” conjures up a fanciful behind-the-scenes tale about the making of “The Prince and the Showgirl” (1957) for no ostensible purpose beyond bringing Marilyn Monroe back to life. In a world where anyone can casually throw a clip up on YouTube and everyone defines themselves with Facebook lists of favorite bands and movies, I fear the line between artistry and appreciation has become tragically blurred.

What troubles me most is that as far as movies are concerned, hardly anyone is decrying this descent from production to consumption, from nourishment to regurgitation. Simon Reynolds, author of anti-nostalgic tract “Retromania,” and others are rightfully making a similar complaint in the realm of music, but in the realm of film, the likes of “The Artist” and “Hugo” are piling up accolades largely unperturbed by critical dissent. This might be attributable to their appealing preservationist sentiments; while music will always be music, film is increasingly not film, and for many in the industry and the audience, movies that honor the tangible stuff of film history deserve commendation.

But homage is not art; love letters are not art. So here’s one voice in the wilderness, hoping that in 2012, some artist out there can do better than “The Artist.”

Socially adjusted

Not evil

Guys at Yale are bad in bed. I know Yale has taught us to discuss issues with nuance and complexity, but I feel really comfortable with this blanket statement: Guys at Yale are bad in bed. Like, really bad. Like, I’d-laugh-if-I-weren’t-crying bad. Like, maybe-I’ll-just-eat-thissandwich-instead bad.

Before I continue, it’s important to make some clarifications. Because of the limits of my experiences and those of the women I’ve talked to, this applies to straight guys exclusively, and mainly the single ones (as relationships often force men to be better at sex). I will also allow for maybe 20 to 30 guys at Yale who are mediocre, and maybe a handful who are skilled.

A big part of the problem is Yale’s hookup culture. Now, the only time I think it’s useful to lament or even talk about Yale’s “hookup culture” is when it comes to the pervasiveness of terrible sex.

Fact: Hookups simply aren’t conducive to mutually pleasurable sex. Neither are Yale men. The remarkable scarcity of nicelooking, not-evil and socially adjusted straight single males (NLNESASSM) is a real issue on Yale’s campus, particularly in light of the abundance of nice-looking, not-evil and socially adjusted straight single females. Guys are rare commodities, and they are all too aware of it. This is why they get away with a lot. I don’t understand the economy, but having read the business section a few times, I have a sense of how supply and demand works.

Because the demand for NLNESASSM is so high, the meager supply of NLNESASSM will always be desired, sought after and shamelessly hit on, regardless of their sexual performance or effort. Thus there is no incentive for them to improve, particularly when the whole experience will be over in a few hours and they’re not trying to date the girl, or even friend her on Facebook. Female pleasure is pushed aside. Besides, if a guy can continually get with girls without making them orgasm, why would he try? Especially when

Contact ALEC JOYNER at alec.joyner@yale.edu .

MARIA YAGODA SEXTING AND SOCIETY he’s tired and drunk, or the girl is faking because Durfee’s closes in 15 minutes and she wants one of those hummus-pretzel containers. Take note, females: faking further exacerbates the problem by causing men to wildly overestimate their abilities.

I must note that there are men, however few, who legitimately try to satisfy their ladyfolk. But trying is not always enough. Just because it’s cute and charitable that you put in the half-hearted effort to blow me — everyone knows that vaginas are weird and disgusting, while penises are majestic and delicious — does not mean it will feel good, or even bearable. Yet unfortunately, in real time, I probably won’t have the balls to tell you I hate it. Which is part of the problem.

This brings me to communication.

Hookup culture has resulted in a lack of communication on both sides, and this only perpetuates bad sex. Girls are scared to say what they want — if they even know what they want, which would help if they had a vibrator — and guys are scared to ask what girls want and sometimes even to listen. Because in the context of a shortlived romp, both parties already have low expectations: the guy is thrilled to put his penis in a real-live naked girl, and the girl is thrilled simply to have found a NLNESASSM, who, as the acronym dictates, is sort of attractive, nice, and socially competent.

How do we deal with this problem?

To start, men need to be held accountable. I know that American masculinity is fragile. I know that sometimes it’s hard for men to take feedback or criticism when it comes to their sexual prowess, or anything. But get it together. This, for example, is unacceptable: One of my girl friends was hooking up with a guy and decided to slowly turn on her side for

some good-old fashioned spooning sex.

The guy was so confused and taken aback by her initiative that he lost his erection and couldn’t precede forward. Now imagine what happens when women vocally communicate what they want. Yale men — and I imagine most college-aged men — are just too fragile to handle it.

Also, I encourage guys to start thinking less of their abilities and to stop doing weird shit. For example, a close friend was making out with this guy who pinched her really hard in the stomach. She said, “Ow!” and he said, “Shhhh, you’ll like this.” Then he proceeded to do a lot of strange things with his finger in her ear, and she was revolted, though stayed largely silent.

Yale women too often perpetuate the problem by not standing up for what makes their vaginas happy — by faking orgasms, by silently tolerating atrocious oral sex, and, perhaps the most rampant offense (which I practically invented), by seeking and continuing to have unsatisfying sexual relations with NLNESASSM. (A friend of mine had terrible sex with a guy for months because the cuddling was so good). And as a result, NLNESASSM consider themselves to be much more sexually competent than they actually are, which is entirely unhelpful and probably led to little Bush’s failed presidency.

I urge women to start Saying No to Awful Sex (Thank You!), or SNASTY. SNASTY is the only way to improve Yale’s sexual climate and female sexual pleasure.

Sex is not something that should be tolerated, endured, or, in the case of menfolk, taken for granted. I’m not trying to say that God wants you to stop fucking around. What I am trying to say is — and I think He would agree — that no sex is better than bad sex. Let’s be discerning. Let’s send a clear message to men who suck at sex that we’re SNASTY, and they’re going to have to work a little harder.

Contact MARIA YAGODA at maria.yagoda@yale.edu .

All your problems are stupid The TLC Tip runs on alternate Fridays. Send manufactured life dramas and detailed descriptions of your rashes to lauren.rosenthal@yale.edu. Pictures are not needed, or wanted. Seriously.

Q. My roommate’s clothes are everywhere. I can’t see my floor, and he refuses to clean. It makes me sad. What the heck should I do?

A. First, learn real swears. Second, plant a dead mouse at the bottom of a pile of his underwear. Mischief managed.

Q. Why are there no lesbians at Yale?

A. I think there definitely are lesbians at Yale. I’ve never taken a Women’s, Gender and Sexual-

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LAUREN ROSENTHAL THE TLC TIP ity Studies course without a lesbian at the seminar table — NOR WOULD I WANT TO. I’ve never been asked to a screw or residential college dance by anyone besides lesbians (ditto). If you’re looking to court a lesbian, I would recommend joining the Yale Precision Marching Band, or YPMB. They are very welcoming to the LGBT community, and a source tells me that the vast majority of the YPMB’s sophomore class is lesbian. While I can’t speak to the veracity of that claim, doesn’t it sound promising? And don’t worry if you can’t play an instrument; neither can the rest of them. Consider old

classics like hanging out at the Women’s Center, playing rugby, or listening to some Dar William/Indigo Girls/Tegan and Sara/Fiona Apple in the library while pretending that you have accidentally unplugged your headphones. Like they say in “Field of Dreams”: If you build it, they will come.

Q. Is Lana del Rey going to stage a comeback?

A. This summer, I watched the “Video Games” music video incessantly while eating hummus. I was enamored of the “gangsta Nancy Sinatra” and her voluminous hair and anaphylactic-shock lips just like the rest of you.

While I don’t usually side with Brian Williams (fun fact: I acci-

STUDENT GUIDE TOUR

Yale Center for British Art // 2:00 p.m.

A perennial WEEKEND favorite.

dentally elbowed him in the back of the head after a Just Add Water show freshman year), he’s right. Lana’s “Saturday Night Live” set was one of the worst in the show’s history — and that’s including Ashlee Simpson’s Great Lip Sync Jig of ’04. So, she either needs to gain 40 pounds and an acoustic guitar or just give up and become a model.

SHE EITHER NEEDS TO GAIN 40 POUNDS AND AN ACOUSTIC GUITAR OR JUST GIVE UP AND BECOME A MODEL.

Q. My friend is addicted to Skyrim.

How do I help her?

A. Like you, I have watched many friends fall victim to the ’Rim in recent months. It’s utterly mystifying. A close friend told me tonight that she recently purchased a pair of black boots just because they look like the ones her Skyrim character wears. If her character had been an elf or

“EXPLORING DUALITY IN MODERN AND CONTEMPORARY ART” Yale University Art Gallery // 2:00 p.m.

Shannon Connors ’12 reveals all.

some shit, the results would be damn near disastrous. Luckily, her character kind of looks like her (read: not an elf), so it turned out okay. But it was a close call!

I think you should invite your friend to join you in a hobby you enjoy, like volunteering or per-

“GOD VS. GAY? THE RELIGIOUS CASE FOR EQUALITY”

Slifka Center, 80 Wall St. // 7:00 p.m.

Well, if God says so …

sonal hygiene.

(Confidential to Geoff: No one cares that you’re a level 32 red guard. I don’t want you to die alone.)

Contact LAUREN ROSENTHAL at lauren.rosenthal@yale.edu .

“

I only feel angry when I see waste. When I see people throwing away things we could use.

”

-MOTHER TERESA

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

PAGE B11

WEEKEND REVIEWS

Every beautiful thing we can see: Jeff Mangum comes to New Haven // BY NINA WEXELBLATT

The Shubert Theater, like many large and lovely venues of its kind, prohibits the photographing or recording of performances. Fortunately, there are two occasions during which I find it not only undesirable, but also ridiculous to want to experience a night through a viewfinder. The first is when I’m truly comfortable, at home, or among the best of friends — why bother? — and the second is when I’m in absolute awe of the realness of my surroundings; in selfish service to the present moment, I feel little need to “capture” anything for later recollection.

At Wednesday’s Jeff Mangum concert at the Shubert, I happily heeded the no-camera rule, because there I was in the middle of both reasons not to surreptitiously open the Instagram app: in the presence of a thoroughly mesmerizing artist, the voice of a very specific part of a generation, and also — somehow — completely at ease, as though everyone in the room were old friends. Barthes describes photography as a haunting sort of communication: images “from a real body, which was there, proceed radiations which ultimately touch me, who am here.” From his spotlit chair in the middle of the stage, Mangum himself radiated. I didn’t want a souvenir.

I suppose, in the context of being a guy in a little hat with some guitars shout-singing to a room of flannel, Jeff Mangum is really just a dude.

He’s a dude who had some endearing banter with his audience at some concert, gracious when some of them were really determined to generously rewrite his setlist for him. He’s a dude who said “Thanks!” in earnest and in haste after the last chord of each song. And he’s also a dude who fronted a band that put out, among other gems both released and un-, one of the strangest and best albums

of the 1990s, Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. After countless plays since the moment a miniature-sized, 13-yearold Nina, with miniature-sized braces and a miniature sized iPod, inexplicably fell in love with a psychedelic folk concept album heavy on the singing saw and rather explicitly devoted to Anne Frank, each open chord and nasal, extended vowel has become intensely real to me (as I’m sure they have to everyone who was willing to pay the Shubert’s operatic price for an indie rock show).

But the evening itself edged on surreal. His appearance in New Haven was the first date of a tour that marks a brave return to the public eye after over a decade of absence following the release of the album in 1998. While his enthralled audience wanted desperately at the time to unravel Mangum’s music and engage with the artist himself, he retreated further and further until he simply wasn’t seen at all. In the single interview he conducted in that time, he seemed to question the legitimacy of the musical pursuit in the first place, telling Pitchfork in 2002 that he suddenly discovered that he couldn’t “sing [his] way out of suffering.”

With all due respect, I know that to be absolutely false because that is exactly what he does. Mangum isn’t a singer-songwriter in any coffee shop definition of the term. His aren’t songs of heartbreak or politics.

They’re meditations on massacre, sex and spirituality; each song is a miniature literary work exploring history, both burdensomely collective and isolatingly personal and, often, entirely fictional. Characters bounce around the fringe of reality in an invented past in which the stark sepia of the Second World War and the colorful shadows of a 17th century wunderkammer swirl together, a circus of

medical oddities preserved in jars and impressions of now-dead bodies left upon bed sheets.

Mangum’s voice takes turns yelping, shouting and sounding infuriatingly reasonable. In the right state of mind, listening with headphones as he glides up an octave without warning to rocky, sustained wails in “Oh Comely,” the song assumes our suffering, and we are once again light, ready to soar with bandmate Julian Koster’s singing saw solo at the end of “Ghost,” which in my estimation is certainly one of the most exuberant minutes of music ever recorded.

Live, this exuberance was not forgotten. The influence of the whimsy and uninhibited ingenuity of the Elephant 6 Collective, the group of friends and collaborators in Athens, Georgia from which Neutral Milk Hotel sprang, was particularly underscored by the addition of the opening act, the Music Tapes, fronted by Koster. More of an imaginary friend than a band, the Tapes make poignant indie pop seemingly as a by-product of the endlessly creative and knowingly absurd performance they stage.

(To best illustrate this sensibility, I couldn’t possibly invent an album title that more adroitly straddles the line between tongue-in-cheek and endearingly earnest than the Tapes’ “The Singing Saw at Christmastime”).

Koster frequently stopped between songs to introduce his bandmates, including a 7 foot-tall metronome, a television named Static, and Mechanized Organ Playing Tower, an adorable entity certainly worth looking up online that is essentially a cylinder with moving hands that play a wooden keyboard. The band marched through the audience singing into megaphones and told fantastical stories of circus acts involving dehydrated, miniaturized European cities. The brass, percussion, singing saw and bowed banjo that comprise the Music Tapes make up a bizarrely coherent mix of pop and whatever the complete opposite of pop is, and brilliantly exemplify the Elephant 6 zeitgeist.

Situating Mangum’s performance in the context of this sort of illuminated, genre-defying eccentricity added an essential dimension to his unsurprisingly understated set. With the exception of the Music Tapes’ company on the unreleased “Engine” and instrumental carnival “The Fool,” the visual experience was basically limited to Mangum surrounded, in

concentric rings, by four guitars, and then darkness. Nothing limited him aesthetically, and the whole affair was much more uninhibited and casual than I had anticipated. Songs off of “On Avery Island,” the album before “In the Aeroplane,” were uncharacteristically freed from the gentle smog of tape hiss that covers them on the recordings and sounded brand new, or at least newly shined.

For someone who, as far as I had read, had at one point grown to resent the fervency of his audience, he implored us to sing along (and then, when our attempt wasn’t enough, to “C’mon!”) to “Holland, 1945” and “Ghost.” But singing with Mangumthe-person rather than Mangumthe-recording seemed to be a dubious honor that both fulfilled a long-held fantasy and encroached on the rarity of the moment. It occurred to me that perhaps he did this to justify to himself his own status as an unimpeachable cultural icon, even after all this time. Ultimately, we were all included passionately as friends in a most improbable situation, our voices helping out the voice of a man that had long affected every person in the room.

All of which serves to make the unlikely experience of seeing him live a bit transcendent and appropriately celebratory. After all, though his music has a tendency to touch on heavy material, Mangum’s underlying sensibility is one of mirthful awe at the wonderful chance of existence. As he muses at the end of “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea,” the single song he comfortingly chose as his encore, “How strange it is to be anything at all!” The lingering sound of this affirmation will stick with me longer than any photograph.

CREATIVE COMMONS

“How strange it is to be anything at all.”

Contact NINA WEXELBLATT at nina.wexelblatt@yale.edu .

‘Dirty Looks’ frowned upon // BY JACK LINSHI

Avant-garde is not an excuse to create trash and label it as art. Apparently, the makers of “Dirty Looks: A Long Distance Love Affair” didn’t get that memo — and I don’t think this a particularly harsh assumption. While I don’t expect a linear narrative in this “avant-garde” mash-up of 11 clips or a theme that is clearly identifiable, I do anticipate there being a sort of concept, a sort of thoughtful connection with the film, a sort of maturity. Unfortunately, there are few to none of the aforementioned qualifications in this film. It is, frankly, utterly ridiculous.

“Dirty Looks” is intended to be a roaming screening of queer works from coast to coast. It opens with what are presumably two drag queens flopping around over a scantily clad

S U N D AY JA N UA RY 2 2

man. The film is silent at this point, moving in slow motion as the camera zooms in on each drag queen’s face as they roll around and smear their make-up. They proceed to roll around together for a good ten minutes. Then the screen awkwardly blanks out as the film changes from one clip to the next. The following segment features what appears to be a blonde woman staring out a window into Manhattan with a voiceover and big, bolded captions in the center of the screen. Drug tests, uncontrollable vomiting and a sick girl named Jane are mentioned, and before any plot or clarity crystallizes, it’s the blank screen again.

The following few scenes consist of literally porn with a background track followed by literally porn minus

the background track. This, perhaps, drew the greatest response from the audience, simply because of its crude and juvenile humor: in one episode, ostriches observe multiple sex scenes occurring in the outdoors. The birds poke their heads in intermittently in what seems to be an act of curiosity.

The camera occasionally alternates from a wide zoom view of the sex to a close up on the ostriches’ buggy eyes, open mouths and clueless expressions. It is now that I am absolutely convinced that this screening has been a waste of my time. Not only is this work offensive to real experimental filmmakers with actual purpose and intent, it also trivializes the queer community into a collection of overweight drag queens, G-string wearing men and androgy-

WEEKLY READING WITH THE YALE SHAKESPEARE PROJECT Ezra Stiles College // 8:00 p.m.

And we’ll all laugh at gilded butterflies.

Hey, Megan Fox has got it tattooed on her back.

nous women.

But perhaps this distaste could have been anticipated. Before the screening, one of the filmmakers noted that due to the use of different types of film stock, there could be focus issues when switching clips.

But if it didn’t go well, he said, then the poor transition would “just be experimental” — a hint that nearly anything could and will be swept under the cover of avant-garde and be called a work of art.

For a film that advertised itself so uniquely — to position “contemporary queer avant-garde work alongside more historical work as a way of tracing aesthetic trajectories” — it is a thorough disappointment that fails to meet the filmmakers’ goal. Where are the historical trends — the con-

YALE SCHOLA CANTORUM: “LUX AETERNA” Christ Church Episcopal // 8:00 p.m.

Baby, you can keep my flame lit any time, aaaalll the time.

DO YOUR HOMEWORK Yale // All night long

Yeah … we didn’t do it either.

ceptual elements, social relevance, surrealism? All I got was the most obvious, commonplace psychedelia of the 1960s. The film, too, failed in its further aim of combatting “canonization,” that is, the tendency to put non-experimental cinema on a high pedestal. But by offering the audience an unconvincing piece of experimental film, we have no choice but to further appreciate these kinds of standard-made films.

Ultimately, “Dirty Looks” was not worth my time, and I don’t think it will be worth yours. For those interested in avant-garde, there are films that do the genre more justice.

Contact JACK LINSHI at jack.linshi@yale.edu .

“

You can tell how high a society is by how much of its garbage is recycled.

”

-DHYANI YWAHOO

PAGE B12

YALE DAILY NEWS · FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 · yaledailynews.com

WEEKEND BACKSTAGE

PAUL MARCARELLI

// OBAMA PACMAN

Ad Titan, Silent Celebrity, Budding Filmmaker // BY PAUL ELISH

‘C

an you hear me now?” — the eternal question from the Verizon Wireless “Test Man” came to represent nearly a decade of television commercials. But Paul Marcarelli, the man behind the glasses, remained anonymous long after his ubiquitous persona emerged on the national stage. Today, though still on contract with the company, Marcarelli talks of his transition from advertising icon to film director at the end of the nine-year ad campaign. WEEKEND sat down with Marcarelli to discuss his Connecticut origins, his experience as an anonymous figure in the national spotlight and how his personal artistic voice is now being heard.

A. I don’t know really — I guess access to New York [had an effect] in some ways. You might have to ask me that in 20 years.

In some ways, [since] I was raised on a small farm I always knew that if you needed something, you always had to figure out a way to make it yourself.

That’s how my career has always gone, the Verizon job notwithstanding, which really is the only job I’ve ever been hired to do. For the most part I’ve always made my own work, and that is what you do on a farm.

Q. As the figurehead of Verizon Wireless, you were a national advertising persona, yet your personal life remained largely unknown to the public. What effect did your role as the “Test Man” have on your own personal identity?

A. Well, early on, I don’t know if it was just self-consciousness — having that kind of scrutiny on you is unnerving — or if it was some sort of healthy remove that I built in, but I always knew it was a great job, and I was grateful to have it. I was going to do everything I could to do it really, really well and with consciousness, but I never was going to attach anything to it in terms of my ego.

But I don’t know … I still feel in a lot of ways that I’m very much the same person. The things that were important to me then are important to me now, and I have a little more money and I’m older.

Q. Did you expect to become a part of the pantheon of ad campaign figures when you first started with Verizon Wireless?

A. No, I didn’t expect that at all. When you’re an actor you always think the job is going to end the next day — any kind of recognition you’re getting is your rehearsal for rejection [laughs]. I think I thought right away that it would last for

a little while and then it would just disappear. I didn’t know it would have the kind of reso-

“

Q. This past fall reports surfaced alleging that your relations with Verizon Wireless were somehow strained or that the company was stifling your identity, especially with regard to your sexual orientation. Was there any truth to the controversy?

A. None, actually. I think I was ill-prepared — I’ve never had a public persona outside of this job, and I lived through nine years of this job without ever doing a single interview. Then last year, in the interest of promoting my film, I sat down for my very first interview, and I

I THINK I WAS ILLPREPARED — I’VE NEVER HAD A PUBLIC PERSONA OUTSIDE OF THIS JOB.

“

Q. One of the especially interesting parts of this Master’s Tea lies in the fact you’re not only a national figure, but also a local figure. How did growing up in North Haven influence the trajectory of your career?

nance that it had, and I certainly didn’t know I would be as busy with it as I have been.

was ill-prepared for the vagaries of the press and the way that an agenda can manipulate even the most innocuous quotes and statements. I should have known better, but I think there was an agenda accompanying the one piece that became the piece of record. But the answer is no, for the most part. And there was nothing I said specifically that even alluded to that.

I think it was just the idea that one would infer — I mean, it’s a New York actor, and instead of having some legitimate theatrical career he’s spending the last 10 years doing a commercial. It’s an easy angle.

And frankly, the reality is not as

interesting as that.

Q. So now that you’re going into filmmaking, what would you say about your past film, “The Green,” and what do you have in store for the future in terms of whether you’re considering going back into acting?

A. I mean, I just want to keep telling stories and keep making these smaller films. I just want to have enough success that I can keep doing it this way right now — that’s all I really want to be doing. And luckily, we’ve made a film and we’ve delivered on our promise to our investors and are continuing to do so. So hopefully it makes the next one easier and we’ll continue on that path.

Contact PAUL ELISH at paul.elish@yale.edu .

// VERIZON