The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/category/arts/artscolumns/)
It is the long awaited time of year again: Spring has technically sprung, according to the schedule of the equinoxes.
The following playlist is meant to capture the fleeting hope that comes with spring. It is light at first, short lived yet giddy before the heaviness of summer begins to set in and temperaments become relaxed.
I was depressed in Chicago when I did the interview. I sat bleary-eyed in front of my computer screen trying, and so desperately failing, to look as animated as possible. The position was as an assistant for a high school journalism program at an Ivy League university. My job would be to invite speakers from the journalism industry, coordinate travel and lunches, shepherd the students around campus and ultimately scaffold the program from conception to execution. “What stories have you been following in the news?” the interviewers asked.
I’ve always liked watching movies alone; I haven’t had trouble going to the theaters alone since before I turned 18. But for a time earlier this year, I’d never done it quite so much, or in quite such a specific way.
The more time we spend in art museums and read about art, the better we can appreciate how objects of art can be understood within the context of the creative and cultural tradition of which they are a part.
Before we begin hating, I would like to send some love to the fast walkers of Cornell’s campus. Fast walkers, this article is not for you; I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. I may be biased as a fast walker myself, but I believe you all deserve hearty congratulations for your public service of keeping campus moving and people getting to classes on time. Kudos to the few of you — never change. Of course, I will still decide that we are subconsciously racing and feel the need to beat you wherever you are going.
Not every film can be enjoyed in a single evening. As you get into cinephilia, downloading Letterboxd and looking at their Top 250 (or perhaps those of Sight and Sound or AFI), you may come across those select few movies with runtimes that look like mistakes: Jesus Christ, how many hours even is 317 minutes? Some people end up shutting those movies out, excluding them from any potential watchlist for the obscene commitment they ask of audiences. Others, like me, set them aside as projects on a bucket list… I knew I couldn’t avoid Jacques Rivette my whole life. Earlier this month, I made that bucket list a whole lot shorter, watching a dozen or so of these ultralong “project” movies over break.
Throughout the movie, every scene either shows something actively going wrong or creates a feeling that something is about to go wrong. It feels icky and uncomfortable to watch.
Not only did you fail to include well-established and deserving guitarists in your list, but you also left out newer artists who earned spots on this list and would have benefited your “attempt” at curating a more inclusive and diverse list.
As someone who reads at least three novels a week, I consider myself a bit of a book connoisseur. I have devoured a number of excellent books, and I have also slogged through quite a few that were not my favorite. The sheer volume of literature I’ve consumed has allowed me to hone my list of dislikes, from physical flaws in a paperback or boring storylines.
Getting people to talk in classes is excruciatingly difficult, and trying to actually make a friend is even harder.
It is impossible in these times to sit down quietly and write about a piece of media, pretending nothing is ever political. What does film say about history? Vice versa, what does history say about film? Are movies doomed to be an art medium purely for aesthetic enjoyment, or is there space for political engagement? These are a few of the questions that ran through my head as I watched I Am Cuba (1964), an epic film about pre-revolutionary Cuba told in four vignettes.
