Marie

Monstrous Manuscript

Fri, 09 May 2008 11:27:44 -0800

The word 'manuscript' is little bit intimidating, especially when it stands alone, as in: "You'll all be writing manuscripts this quarter."

Manuscripts about what? Manuscripts following what guidelines? Fulfilling what ends?

None of these questions were raised, let alone answered, during the first week of my spring quarter program, Monstrous Possibility. The only thing we were told about our manuscripts-to-be was that they would be included in an anthology at the end of the quarter. There are no requirements about length, content, form, structure, or copy standards. The possibilities were monstrous.

MUSE: Encounters with the Classical Canon

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 14:06:23 -0800

So reads the title of the Phrontisterion's upcoming event. The Phrontisterion, Evergreen's Classical Studies Club, has traditionally organized events solo, but for our next project we're getting some awesome – and much needed – help from the Writers' Guild.

Monstrous Possibility

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 16:13:05 -0800

This spring I'm taking a literary arts and theory program called Monstrous Possibility. A hybrid of creative and analytic writing, we're garnering inspiration for our work from an eclectic range of authors: Samuel Beckett, Gertrude Stein, Friedrich Neitschze, Jacques Derrida, Roland Barthes, and others. Our assignment this week is to write with constraints; that is, to establish a set of 13 rules and rituals by which to govern, not necessarily the content, but the direction of our work. (The assignment is dubbed "Toward the Zero Point", by the way, with our teachers encouraging us to "write toward meaninglessness").

Spring Break in Seattle

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 18:19:44 -0800

This spring break, I spent the week on my uncle's houseboat in Seattle. Docked on Lake Union, it has a great view of downtown Seattle and Queen Anne, with the Space Needle seeming only a stone's throw away. Even though I lived in Seattle for a summer when I was 18, I spent most of my break doing the tourist thing. I went to the Seattle Art Museum to see the Roman art exhibit, which was great, but after seeing 30 or so marble statues of emperors and their wives, I sort of got the picture and was ready to move on...the best part was the Gates of Paradise exhibit. The Gates are made up of 9 bronze panels, each depicting a scene from Genesis. It begins with Adam and Eve, moving through the stories of Noah, Cain and Abel, Abraham, and other major biblical figures. Only three of the panels are on display, but the incredible detail of the carvings makes the trip worth it.

Early Morning Edits

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 20:00:02 -0800

Last week I got a position copy editing for Evergreen's student newspaper, the Cooper Point Journal. I've been an avid, well, browser, of the CPJ since my freshman year, but I've never gotten particularly excited about it. I'm not sure how it measures up as far as student papers go, but its content (oh, letters to the editor!) and style (if I had a dollar for each copy error...) have long been points of contention around these parts. Finally, I decided to stop being a passive observer and get involved.

The Woods Distract

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 09:18:00 -0800

The background: Evergreen is nestled in acres and acres of temperate rain forest. We have trails. We have a beach. There are creatures at the beach.

Yesterday I had a meeting scheduled from 4-5pm. An important meeting, though it wouldn't particularly suffer from my absence. Still, an obligation all the same. It was at the meeting before this one (Evergreen is also nestled in acres and acres of meetings, especially on Wednesdays) that I could feel myself gravitating, not toward the seminar room where my next meeting was scheduled, but to the beach. I began to negotiate with myself and soon enough, I had convinced myself of the virtues of walking through the woods, away from my commitments and into that part of Evergreen where nature vanquishes concrete.

Respite

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 15:38:16 -0800

Sooooo, after two and a half months of auditions, emails, flyering, rehearsing, costume-making, and general hysteria, The Birds is over. Not the Hitchcock version, but the Classical Greek comedy by laugh master Aristophanes. I produced The Birds as part of my coordinating gig for The Phrontisterion, Evergreen's one and only Classical Studies club. Each winter, the coordinators stage an Aristophanes play--last year they did Lysistrata, the year before that, The Clouds.

(Before I go any further, check out these awesome production pix--http://www.flickr.com/photos/rwhitlock/sets/72157603962243346).

The Art of Conversations on Art (and Politics)

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 10:57:30 -0800

Aside from the contract I'm doing on absurdist theater, I'm enrolled in a weekend class called “Conversations on Art and Politics”. And that's pretty much the gist of it—conversation. Each week a guest artist comes in to present his or her work and talk about its relationship to politics. The presentations are followed up by Q & A, but we get down to most of our business on the class blog, responding weekly to initial posts by our teacher and to the work presented in class.

Socrates is a Cat

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 18:15:33 -0800

Or so claims the Logician in Eugene Ionesco's Rhinoceros. Teaching his ill-conceived brand of logic to his comrade, he says, "Another syllogism is this: All cats are dead. Socrates is dead. Socrates is a cat." Ah, I see, his friend replies, at which point they launch into a ridiculous banter about how many paws two cats would have if you subtracted 2 from their collective amount of paws. This is the nature of my Independent Learning Contract, entitled "Investigating the Absurd." And although the above conversation is certainly absurd, I'm delving into a more specific definition of absurdity. Albert Camus, the first author I read for the contract, put it better than I ever could in The Myth of Sisyphus. "The world in itself is not reasonable," he admits, "...But what is absurd is the confrontation of this irrational and the wild longing for clarity whose call echoes in the human heart."

The Birds, The Birds!

Fri, 25 Jan 2008 17:40:38 -0800

This quarter, I'm producing a play for The Phrontisterion, the student group I coordinate. We're staging The Birds, an ancient Greek comedy by laugh master Aristophanes. We started rehearsals this week, starting things off with a string of ridiculous improv games, which basically serve to break the ice between a gaggle of relative strangers. It would be a drag to describe the games in detail here, but suffice it to say that one of them is called "Bunny Bunny" and another "Big Booty, Little Booty".

So what does this all boil down to? Four weeks of rehearsals, infinite emails, phone calls, meetings, signatures, paperwork. And how is all this possible? How am I, a student unaffiliated with any academic program, allowed and able to put on a full-scale comedy in one of Evergreen's most coveted performance venues? The Student Acitivities Board, that's how. One of Evergreen's most endearing qualities is its commitment to making services and facilities open to students. If there's a will, there's (almost always) a way, and this time, the way is three nights of performance to a total audience of 600 people. I can't wait, but I'll be holding my breath until then...

The Most Olympia Moment

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 14:41:08 -0800

Sitting in Caffe Vita on a Sunday afternoon, these are the things I see:

Two young men in black suits, looking ridiculously serious, cross the street and storm into the cafe. They cross the room in measured, authoritative, steps. One of them slams a black briefcase down on a table where a hipster-looking student type sits unperturbed. He, the tall one, reaches into the briefcase and grabs a roll of ducktape. Oh crap, I laugh. He rips off a piece of tape and smacks it over the kid's the mouth. What the hell, I laugh harder.

Weekend of Absurd and Musical Things

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 13:10:08 -0800

'Oh, the cathartic qualities of electronic music,' I mused as I stood squished between giant speakers on my right and a kinetic, dancing couple on my left. Friday night I was privy to the intoxicating sights and sounds of Gumar and his Magical Midi Band, an Oly-based performative phenomenon that's swept through the town like wild fire. This weekend, the band--a DJ, two additional vocalists, and a slew of friends touting glammed up mock instruments-- took prestigious stage at the Washington Center for Performing Arts, "rocking out" to a crowd of fiercely loyal followers. I'd caught snippets of Midi Band shows in the past, but this was the first time I had the privilege of experiencing an entire set. Yes, experiencing, not listening or watching. The band performs, in the strongest sense of the word, and the audience ingests it all: emphatic and infectious beats, heartwarming and hilarious lyrics, off the cuff dance moves, glamor and glitz to the utmost, and sweat--a whole lotta' sweat.

Speaking of sweat, Gumar's audience got a little warm-up from another Oly-originated group, The Blow. Comprised of a behind-the-scenes DJ and a commanding front woman, The Blow elevates electronic music to philosophy and sophisticated stand-up. While the dude provides the beats, the singer traverses the set with songs and stories of break-ups, trips through the digestive system, and girl power. If you listen closely, you'll even glean lessons in econ and existentialism; if you attend a show, you'll learn how to dance like a malfunctioning robot and still look cool.