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The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/2004/10/27/jerusalem-of-shrapnel/)

October 27, 2004

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Jerusalem of Shrapnel

By | October 27, 2004

On Saturday night, Sept. 9, 2003, 20-year-old Chanan Sand of Jerusalem learned the meaning of the word tragedy.

It was less than 24 hours before his long-awaited wedding to American high-school sweetheart Nava Applebaum. Chanan was anxious and excited. Tomorrow, he would become the first of his friends to tie the knot.

Then the phone rang. Chanan answered it and fainted immediately.

Nava had been killed with her father, Dr. David Applebaum, in a suicide bombing at Jerusalem’s Caf

After Consecutive Home Losses, Polo Seeks Victory

By October 28, 2004

Polo coach David Eldredge ’81 and the engineering students agree on one thing, it’s all about the curve. The “learning curve,” that is. Despite last weekend’s home losses, Eldredge hopes to get the men’s and women’s polo squads back into winning shape before hosting Skidmore this weekend. After winning five consecutive national titles, the women’s squad (0-2) suffered two losses at the beginning of the season to Virginia and Connecticut — two teams Eldredge calls “top teams in the country.” The women suffered a heartbreaking 13-12 loss at Virginia on Oct. 15, ending an 86-game winning streak. The women had not seen defeat since losing to Virginia in the 1999 national championship game. The Red went on to drop its second game of the season against Connecticut in a 20-13 loss. With Connecticut jumping to a 5-0 lead, the women had trouble coming back. One key factor in the outcome is the loss of starter Molly Buck, who is taking the fall semester off. Although Buck will return for the spring season, the squad must rely on seniors Harriet Antczak and Lindsey Scheer for leadership. “We’re kind of in building mode,” Eldredge said. “We only have one starter from a previous team in the [opening] lineup. It’s no big worry. It’s the beginning of the season. We have a lot of time.” Eldredge plans to work with the women on speeding up and maintaining their speed. “We are quick and hectic around the goals right now,” Eldredge said. “We need to be a little more in control of [our] opponents.” While the women are dealing with the loss of a starter, the men are facing the same problem — times three. With last year’s starters away for the fall season, the squad is relying on seniors Stan Feldmen and Will Yang and junior John Price to set the tone. The men lost last season’s national championship game to Virginia by a final score of 21-19. The squad came back fresh and played to an impressive 23-5 win, beating the Central New York Polo Club in this season’s opener. Although new to indoor polo, standout freshman Brian Fairclough scored 18 of the 23 goals. “Fairclough is a very talented player,” Eldredge said. “He’s on a big learning curve for indoor polo and is quickly picking up.” In their second game of the season, the men fell to the Teabrook Polo Club in a close 17-14 match. Teabrook’s strong finish and Cornell’s foul shooting contributed to the loss. While the men’s success is welcomed, Eldredge is not afraid to admit he is surprised. “I’m quite happy with the progress of the men,” he said. “The guys are doing much better than I expected them [to do].” “Skidmore is our weakest opponent thus far,” he said. The men will take on Skidmore tomorrow at 7:30 p.m. in the Oxley Equestrian Center. The women will be back in action on Saturday at 8:15 p.m. Archived article by Kristen Kovach Sun Contributor
Elliott Smith: From a Basement on the Hill

By October 28, 2004

The career of Elliott Smith probably would have gone relatively unnoticed to the public eye were it not for film. Whether it was his surreal performance of “Miss Misery” at the Academy Awards or Wes Anderson’s memorable use of “Needle in the Hay” as a suicide soundtrack in The Royal Tenenbaums, movies did more to advance Smith’s popularity than his ebullient pop melodies ever did. It seems natural then that some kind of cinematic resolution would cap Smith’s tragic life. Hollywood types may have thought they had their chance to capitalize with From a Basement on the Hill, Smith’s final, posthumous release. Fortunately, for the sake of Elliott Smith’s memory, From a Basement provides no such plastic nostalgia to a life that ended far too soon. Now, before cynics start making Tupac comparisons, From a Basement was nearly complete before Smith took his own life. This is no grab bag of unreleased B-sides. The final production work was entrusted to close friends and family, and little alteration was made to Smith’s original compositions. And, while it seems all too prescient and deliberate that the album is being released so close to the anniversary of Smith’s death, the integrity of the work seems undisturbed. Through and through, From a Basement is vintage Smith, emoting his talent for moving between songs as dense as swells of rain and as bare and dry as ash. Likewise, the album balances its tiny, finger-picked moments with radiant pop orchestrals. But no matter how shimmering Smith’s melodies could be, his records always ended up being the most heartbreaking albums of the year. But it’s not an overabundant sadness. Rather, Smith’s sincere confessions of drug addiction, isolation, and human pathos always felt comforting enough so as not to alienate. “Coast to Coast,” the opening track, rumbles like Peter Fonda’s easy rider above a swarming riff of guitars. “King’s Crossing” may be Smith’s best song since XO’s “Sweet Adeline,” with Smith’s freely associative vocals floating above tapping pianos, synthesizers that fold like accordions and an ethereal choir. And then “Twilight” wraps us in the painful folds of memory, tiptoeing along ambient cricket sounds and acoustic strumming so delicate it could break. It’s impossible for me to say that there is anything bad on From a Basement, but I can’t really find any innovation. Smith revisits his common tropes of loss and pain in the three-minute harmonies he perfected with each album. Just as before, Smith’s sun-soaked guitars are just a lovely veneer on the lens to his troubled soul. But like his albums, From a Basement is not a vacuum of despair — every song may feel like a threnody on first listen, but each is somehow suffused with hope, however transient it may be. Of course, music scribes and fans could argue until they asphyxiate over whether or not this material is arranged and finished in exactly the way Smith would have wanted. There simply is no answer to that question. But the middle of the album seems to suggest Smith’s integrity was preserved. At track six, “A Fond Farewell,” sits a blithely nostalgic song which, in light of Smith’s suicide, seems oddly clairvoyant and timely. Smith begs, “A little less than a human being / A little less than a happy high / A little less than a suicide / The only things that you really tried / This is not my life / It’s just a fond farewell to a friend / It’s not what I’m like / It’s just a fond farewell to a friend / I couldn’t get things right.” Now, with the past in mind, this song could have conveniently landed at the end of the album, providing closure to Smith’s final album. But that it lies in the most insignificant of spots — the middle — seems to suggest that just maybe, Smith’s vision was upheld. By no means is From a Basement on the Hill Elliott Smith’s best work, but by no means is it even close to being his worst. And, while some may be disappointed that the final chapter in Smith’s canon provides no expansion of his sonic vocabulary, it’s just familiar enough to avoid redundancy and remind us of what a talent he was. If this is to be a swan song, then it’s certainly one that fans and newcomers alike can hold on to. 4 StarsArchived article by Zach JonesSun Arts & Entertainment Editor