Final Piece Pitch

Photo alteration and falsification have become rampant, if not the standard, for magazine covers and advertisements today. Images of twig-thin women and overly built men sporting glowing faces, ivory grins, and flawless skin overwhelm every newsstand. Consumers, undeniably affected by such images, often critique their own bodies according to the unattainable standards set by these digitally modified figures.

For my final piece, I will be writing a social and cultural critical essay on the frightening power that photoshop has over body image. It will explore the unrealistic definition that the media, magazines especially, has given to the word “perfection” and the pressures that stem from this unavoidable, in-your-face perception of beauty. I hope to speak to the detrimental effects that this art form has on individuals, ranging from self-esteem to confidence to eating disorders. Why do people buy this idea of beauty if, in many cases, it is a source of stress, self-deprecation, and of never measuring up? I want to argue that in a day and age where photoshop is the norm, used for completely transforming photographs rather than mere touch-ups, it is inevitable that exposure to these images, and the ideas presented in such images, will have a negative effect on consumers.

I plan to use various magazines, such as “People” and “Vogue,” and articles and studies for my sources. I believe that I can effectively write this piece because I have experienced the struggle of comparing myself to unachievable measures of perfection, and I have witnessed family and friends go to great lengths, often unhealthy ones, to “be beautiful.”

Pauline Kael Critical Essay Revised

Pauline Kael, long-term film critic of the “New Yorker,” was truly a performance of her own. A slew of sharp language, harsh statements, and sarcasm, she was a show that was, at the very least, worth recognizing. In an era where critics’ works often were, at most, mechanical echoes and silhouettes of the film industry, Kael embraced a new and radical role; she wrote for the people occupying the plush, cinema seats beside her.

Injecting realistic sass and personality into her reviews, Kael expressed her strong opinions in an entertaining and conversational manner. Even Renata Adler in “House Critic,” an essay that tears Kael apart, cannot deny that “Ms. Kael seemed to approach movies with an energy and a good sense that were unmatched at the time in film criticism.” In Kael’s review of “Hiroshima Mon Amour,” for instance, she says simply, “[…] I decided the great lesson for us all was to shut up.”

Jazz critic Francis Davis in his book “Afterglow: A Last Conversation with Pauline Kael” quotes Kael and her reasons for choosing this style: “I didn’t want to write academic English in an attempt to elevate movies […] It denies them what makes them distinctive.” Using her prose to mimic moviegoers’ own reactions upon leaving the theatre, Kael avoids the condescending, “academic” tone she despised. Her precise word choice, “pop,” “trash,” “grungy,” “comic-strip,” emulates day-to-day language, and she artfully captures this common chitchat and grounds it on the page. Reviews dripping with slang and witty banter not only appealed to a greater audience but had the power to amuse as well.

Though immersed in a world of fictitious stories and images altered and distorted through special effects, Kael did not hesitate to embrace brutal honesty. She spoke of movies exactly as she saw them, nothing more and nothing less. Such sincerity was rare for critics of her time, and it made her uniquely relatable, like she really could have been just another person at the theatre. The audience could understand and had often too experienced the moments of vulnerability, exasperation, and elatedness Kael expresses: “[…] it may be the most emotionally wrenching scene I’ve ever experienced at the movies,” “My reaction is simply, ‘OK, I got it the first time, let’s get on with it.’”

Even when readers didn’t necessarily agree with her, Kael still gripped them with her drastic opinions. Kael called the widely acclaimed “The Sound of Music,” a “sugarcoated lie that people seem to want to eat.” She was like a snappy, radical friend, the daring one who was most remembered and admired for crossing lines and taking risks. Her ideas, though not always shared, were full of personality, and who could resist such blatant, biting remarks?

Still a legacy today, Kael marked a great transition in the world of criticism. Though she found no value in seeing any movie twice, it is quite arguable that her own work should be read and studied again and again and again.

"On 'Idol,' Shifts in Power, Not Talent"

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/23/arts/television/23idol.html?ref=arts

As "American Idol" enters the semifinals of its 9th season, it begs the question (as it has done before) of whether of not it can actually produce a real star. Though I don't watch the show anymore (I watched it sporadically in past seasons), I can't help but ask myself that same question. This article points out that only 2 of the 8 winners have actually been successful, Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. Though a sensation itself, can a show truly "decide" who's going to make it or break it, who people will call a star? Can 1 season on a show really be enough time for one to establish him/herself as "worthy of fame?"

It will be interesting to see how long "Idol" will last without Simon Cowell, the chief critic. Most likely the most experienced judge on the show, Cowell has critiqued singers for the past 8 seasons. Known for his harshness, Cowell does the job of a critic well; he expresses his opinions honestly and blatantly. After this season's end, however, Cowell will focus on "The X Factor" instead. It will be interesting to see how this effects "American Idol." I wouldn't be surprised if the show loses a lot of its essence and credibility after losing such a main figure.

A Critical Essay on Pauline Kael

Pauline Kael, one of the most influential film critics of her time, took it as a great insult if readers found her reviews more appealing than the movies she was critiquing. Should her articles fail to make the audience “surrender to [her] passion,” then, in her eyes, she had achieved little as a critic. Whether or not she always accomplished extending this passion, Kael still achieved more than the average critic could hope for; she made incredible leaps and bounds in the art of criticism.

Kael was much more than the run-of-the-mill, frequently bland critics of her day. She wrote knowledgeable reviews that were as entertaining and in-your-face as the movies playing on the theatre screens, while still managing to relate her ideas in an understandable voice. Hence, she became a sensation, a master performance of her own.

Even Renata Adler in “House Critic,” an essay that tears Kael apart, cannot deny that “Ms. Kael seemed to approach movies with an energy and a good sense that were unmatched at the time in film criticism.”

In an era where critics’ works often were, at most, mechanical echoes and silhouettes of the film industry, Kael embraced a new and radical role; she wrote for the people occupying the plush, cinema seats beside her. Injecting realistic sass and personality into her reviews, Kael expressed her strong opinions in a conversational manner. In her review of “Hiroshima Mon Amour,” for instance, she says simply, “[…] I decided the great lesson for us all was to shut up.” In using her prose to mimic moviegoers’ own reactions upon leaving the theatre, Kael avoids the condescending, “academic” tone she despised. Her opinions take the form of a nod of excitement, up-in-arms frustration, or a simple shrug of the shoulders.

Kael did more than develop a comprehensible and attention grabbing style. She grounded her thoughts in her extensive knowledge of film. Between her extreme dedication to movie watching and her years spent at Berkley studying philosophy and the arts, Kael gained credibility and a sort of following; her ideas were, at the very least, definitely worth acknowledging.

Immersion in the world of acting and special effects did not stop Kael from exercising brutal honesty. Such sincerity was rare for critics of her time, and it worked in her favor, singling her out and bringing her into the public eye. It made her uniquely relatable, like she really could have been just another person at the theatre. The audience could understand, and had often too experienced, the moments of vulnerability, exasperation, and elatedness Kael expressed: “[…] it may be the most emotionally wrenching scene I’ve ever experienced at the movies,” “My reaction is simply, ‘OK, I got it the first time, let’s get on with it.’”

Even when readers didn’t necessarily agree with her, Kael still had the power to grip them with her drastic opinions. Kael called the widely acclaimed “The Sound of Music,” a “sugarcoated lie that people seem to want to eat.” Simply because she crossed lines and didn’t mind being harsh, her work was daring and unique. It was like a thriller film; her prose like the escalating music and rising suspense, who could resist such blatant and shocking ideas?

Still a legacy today, Kael marked a great transition in the world of criticism. Though she found no value in seeing any movie twice, it is quite arguable that her own work should be read and studied again and again and again.

NYT Defense

The article I reviewed, "One Object of Desire, Delivered," can be found at http://theater.nytimes.com/2010/01/28/theater/reviews/28venus.html

New York Times critic Charles Isherwood creates a masterpiece of his own in his review of “Venus in Fur,” a new comedy-drama at Classic Stage Company. Beginning with a vivid lede that cleverly compares the audition process to a psychodrama, he invites readers into his highly qualified and respected perspective.

Though his “but” statement appears later, Isherwood establishes his opinion almost immediately through his succinct wording: “tasty new comedy-drama” and “90 minutes of good, kinky fun.” This engaging language continues throughout as Isherwood sprinkles his review with vivid imagery, alliteration, and similes: “teeter-tottering test” and “splattering the room with excuses like a dog shaking off the rain.” Isherwood truly presents the play to the reader.

Isherwood touches on several aspects of the play in his review: acting, directing, setting, structure, plot, and theme. This helps the reader to have a general overview, and it also gives the review authority and context. In referencing other plays and being familiar enough with the writer to say “Mr. Ives is naturally a comic writer,” Isherwood exhibits his knowledge and experience in this field. In mentioning and briefly summarizing the novel “Venus in Fur,” Isherwood gives the reader the context they may have needed in order to fully understand the play and his review.

Though his structure seems somewhat backward, he first highly praises “Venus in Fur” and then concludes with its shortcomings, he makes it work with a strong final sentence that also functions as his "but" statement. His concise paragraphs and thoughtful word choice make the review a fast, entertaining read; hence, Isherwood’s review, like “Venus in Fur,” definitely delivers.

English Faculty Reading Review

Short stories, poems, memoirs, streams of consciousness: the Olmstead Room became a showcase of talent on Wednesday, January 27 when the faculty of the Kalamazoo College English department gathered to share selections of their work. This annual reading gives students the opportunity to experience their professors’ impressive abilities, and this year did not disappoint. Through various styles and voices, the English department shared strong pieces of literature, inviting students into their vibrant and unique perspectives.

Andy Mozina, English Department chair, began the night with an excerpt from the short story “My Non-Sexual Affair.” This comical piece toyed with the fine line between innocence and guilt. Between detailed descriptions of flowers and hot fudge sundaes, Mozina threw in suggestive hints, “sticky,” “thick” fudge that clung to a sweater, humorously making the protagonist a man marked by guilt.

In “Rothko’s Room,” visiting professor Beth Marzoni described her experience at the Tate Modern in London. The piece, dotted with effective rhyme, “February and full bloom already,” and vivid alliteration, “shadowy shifting” “sun splashed south,” took the audience on a vibrant, visual trip.

Marin Heinritz shared a part of her memoir, a segment detailing her mother’s struggle with illness. From flashbacks to her childhood and more recent experiences, her use of concise, concrete language gave a strong portrayal of the evolution of her close relationship with her mother. Gail Griffin followed, reading an excerpt from her forthcoming book, the story of the murder-suicide that occurred at Kalamazoo College ten years ago. Griffin’s use of poignant language and strong imagery transported the audience directly into this tragic incident. The room fell silent as she resurrected these haunting events through vivid descriptions like an “atmospheric dance between a hot spell and the coming rain.”

Glenn Deutsch, visiting assistant professor of English, shared an excerpt from the short story “The Monkey Version of My Father.” Though he spoke quickly and in a more subdued manner, this account, rich in clever humor, had the audience laughing throughout.

Visiting professor Amy Rodgers shared a segment of a process piece. This quick-witted, detailed selection described the beginnings of her graduate research on Robert Frost’s son Carol. Rodgers’ theatrical roots came through in her dramatic reading: a sudden, upward glance, a sharp arch of an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm, and Rodgers had the audience hooked.

Babli Sinha had a hard act to follow, and after Rodger’s expressive reading, Sinha’s dense research piece was difficult to digest. Though clearly a strong academic work full of in-depth research and evidence, “New Woman” would be best appreciated and understood in a different setting.

Writer in residence, Di Seuss, brought back the energy with her two poems. In her typical engaging fashion, Seuss said it raw and honest. She read as though having a conversation. Repeatedly making eye contact and animated expressions, she invited the audience into the experiences of an insecure teen and a drag queen.

Amelia Katanski structured her creative non-fiction work around the four noble truths of Buddhism. The piece, which read like a list in four parts, explored various instances in her grandfather’s life and, through vivid description, gave a clear representation of the Buddhist theme that life and suffering are inseparable.

Bruce Mills finished strong with excerpts from his memoir “An Archeology of Yearning,” an account of his experiences with his son’s autism. Detailed descriptions, “tenuous strands tucked in our throats” and images of boxes stuffed with his son’s various artistic creations, conveyed the intricacies of autism and Mills’ determined, ongoing journey to understand his son.

A strong culmination to a phenomenal night, Mills reminded audience members that anticipation, learning, and life are archeological. They are an on-going study, a constant work in progress.