02.20.19

p. 4 February 20, 2019 | 34st.com

EOTW: Dani Lozano

p. 16 Sophomore's Oscar Nom.

p. 21 Sam Friskey's 'Rabbit'

February 20 20,,2019 february 3 WORD ON THE STREET

My Tumor Derailed My Life, But Helped Me Overcome My Anxiety

4 EGO

EOTW: Dani Lozano, Jorge Santiago-Aviles, Own-It

Annabelle Williams, Editor–in–Chief Dalton DeStefano, Managing Editor Daniel Bulpitt, Audience Engagement Director Lily Snider, Assignments Editor Ethan Wu, Media Director Sophie Burkholder, Word on the Street Editor Katie Bontje, Ego Editor Sam Kesler, Music Editor Eliana Doft, Special Issues Editor Meerie Jesuthasan, Long–Term Features Editor Angie Lin, Developing Features Editor Bella Fertel, Style Editor Maryanne Koussa, Film & TV Editor Josephine Cheng, Arts Editor Emma Boey & Sophia Dai, Photo Editors Tahira Islam & Katie Steele, Copy Editors Dean Jones & Jackson Parli, Video Editors Ben Zhao, Print Director Ego Beats: Amanpreet Singh, Michelle Shen, Sophie Xi, Caroline Emma Moore, Chelsey Zhu, Sonali Deliwala

7 MUSIC

French House, Girlpool Album Review, Grammys, Toro y Moi

Music Beats: Beatrice Forman, Arjun Swaminathan, Teresa Xie, Melannie Jay, Aleksei Kuryla, Johnny Vitale, Julia Davies, Paul Litwin Features Staff: Katrina Janco, Shinyoung Hailey Noh, Allison Wu, Srinidhi Ramakrishna, Caroline Riise, Paige Fishman, Chris Schiller

Style Beats: Karin Hananel, Allie Shapiro, Jen Cullen, Alice Goulding, Diya Sethi, Hannah Yusuf Film & TV Beats: Anna Collins, Shriya Beesam, Shannon Zhang, Zovinar Khrimian, Calista Lopez, Ana Hallman, Samantha Sanders Arts Beats: Michelle Wan, Will Miller, Jess Araten, Katie Farrell, Adeleke McMillan Design Editors: Gillian Diebold, Lucy Ferry, Alice Heyeh, Jess Tan, Tamsyn Brann Associates: Dannie Watson, Joy Lee, Ian Ong, Jackie Lou, Anna Callahan, Isabel Liang, Christine Lam Staff Writers: Liz Kim, Jordan Waschman, Anjalee Bhuyan, Shunmel Syau, Bebe Hodges, Emma Harris, Tara OʼBrien, Jessica Bao, Mehek Boparai, Zoe Young, Sophia Schulz-Rusnacko, Alex Cook Illustrators: Anne Chen, Anne Marie Grudem, Brad Hong, Carly Ryan, Catherine Liang, Jake Lem, Reese Berman, Saranya Sampath, Jessi Olarsch, Christopher Kwok, Diane Lin, Jacqueline Lou, Sabrina Tian, Kathy Chang, Ben Joergens Staff Photographers: Sophia Zhu, Eleanor Shemtov, Alice Deng, Hoyt Gong, Sukhmani Kaur, Mona Lee, Sally

Chen, Adiel Izilov, Christine Wu, Anran Fang Video Staff: Jean Chapiro, Christina Piasecki, Anab Aidid, Deja Jackson, Megan Kyne Copy Deputies: Sarah Poss & Kira Horowitz Copy Associates: Kate Poole, Serena Miniter, Erin Liebenberg, Lexie Shah, Carmina Hachenburg, Luisa Healey, Agatha Advincula Audience Engagment Associates: Brittany Levy, McKay Norton, Kat Ulich, Emily Gelb, Ryan McLaughlin, Valentina Escudero, Samantha Lee, Nadeen Eltoukhy, Fiorentina Huang, Rachel Markowitz, Julia Zhu Cover Illustration by Reese Berman Contacting 34th Street Magazine: If you have questions, comments, complaints or letters to the editor, email Annabelle Williams, Editor–in–Chief, at williams@34st.com. You can also call us at (215) 422–4640. www.34st.com "Useless" ©2019 34th Street Magazine, The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. No part may be reproduced in whole or in part without the express, written consent of the editors (but I bet we will give you the a–okay.) All rights reserved. 34th Street Magazine is published by The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc., 4015 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19104, every Wednesday.

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR 11 STYLE

CBD Restaurant, Matcha Latte, Sustainability Tips

LOL

12 FEATURE

Students affected by natural disasters

LOL 17 FILM & TV

Wicked, Claire Sliney, Alita Review, DC & Marvel Comparison

21 ARTS

Sam Friskey, Complicit Eye

LOL

T

his week, my dad got bit in the face by a dog, my mom and sister hit a deer and totaled the car, and my mom lost a very meaningful necklace (we think it's probably somewhere at the Department of Motor Vehicles in Frazer, Pennsylvania). All that is to say, it's been kind of chaotic in the Williams household of late.

After the first and second not–great things happened, my dad picked me up from the train station and showed me the scar on his nose.

Everyone was fine, he said; the dog had its shots and the deer hurt the car but not my mom and sister. But he just had to add an endnote: “You know, Annabelle, bad things happen in threes.” I wanted to shake him for having spoken that into existence.

But I couldn’t shake the anxiety of it, waiting for the bad thing to happen and wondering what it would be. Would I trip and fall and shatter my phone screen? Would my train back to Philadelphia get derailed? Would my sister break her wrist at basketball practice? Would it be even worse than I was picturing?

And then my mom lost the necklace. Her mother–in–law, my grandmother, had given it to my dad to give to my mom. In some ways, it was a sign of approval (even though she didn’t initially love her golden boy’s choice). That necklace means a lot to my mom, and if she loses it at the DMV—a place she already hates enough—she might never

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go back.

I spoke to my mom on the phone earlier tonight and told her, in the most soothing voice I could muster, that she’d probably left the necklace somewhere in the house, that my siblings could help her look for it, that it would be fine.

And I really think it will be, even if she doesn’t find the necklace. Sure, it’ll be sad. But that’s replaceable. What’s not replaceable is being at home for my sister’s surprise 16th birthday party, or teasing my brother across the dinner table.

I guess the moral of this letter is that I love my family. And that without them, I wouldn’t have the space that I sometimes need to decompress after a long week of Street, school, and everything in between. And even though we’ve had a bit of an unlucky week, things seem to be looking up.

WORD ON THE STREET

word on the

STREET

I stared at the word in front of me. It stared back, its font made bigger with each tick of the clock by its unrelenting, dogged determination to not shrink back into nonexistence.

“Tumor,” it said.

On January 14th, 2019, I discovered I had a tumor in my pancreas. The doctor laid out the facts: In the best case, it was benign and I would be free to go in three weeks. In the worst case, it was malignant and I would need to remove a third of my pancreas. This meant another host of possibilities, ranging from a high risk of cancer to never being able to have children (while I was never crazy about children, I was even less crazy about not having the choice) to extensive damage to the spleen.

In other words, a lifetime ahead of being all–too–well acquainted with the doctors.

And probabilistically, it was a 50–50 split.

Admittedly, my immediate reaction was Oh man, this is really going to mess up my Five Year Plan™. It was after two minutes that it hit me—Oh fuck, I might die, followed by Well, this is REALLY going to mess up my Plan™.

Here’s the thing: I didn’t really even have a plan. I was that person who would announce to the world that I was going to be a lawyer, or a journalist, or a writer for The Daily Show.

My friends quickly learned to dismiss my every grandiose declaration of my major (which, after jumping from Cognitive Science to Religious Studies to Economics, became Philosophy). If anything, that Five Year Plan™ was a nebulous swirl of vague buzzwords: “internship,” “GPA,” and “[insert club name] President”—words that promised some arbitrary "success."

Yet, while I was unsure of the

My Tumor Derailed My Life,

But Helped Me Overcome My Anxiety

Taking time off from Penn forced me to let go of my five year plan ——— By Sherry Tseng ——— exact details of the Plan™, I was positively and definitively sure of one thing: There was no room for a tumor in the Plan™, let alone a cancerous one. Everything was ruined. I would have to drop out of college. I’d be unemployed and homeless. I’d die a slow, miserable death in the merciless cold under a bridge in Brooklyn. Not to be dramatic.

These thoughts, however,

having done enough, I jumped at an unexpected “hello” down Locust Walk. The uncomfortably lukewarm pangs of panic became routine.

Even knowing all this, though, I balked at the idea of actually dealing with everything (or anything). I was never much one for surprises, and the sudden flood of them left me clinging on to any remaining sense of

pretense: Doubled up with my meals, I gave myself exactly 30 minutes to eat and relax (which, with only a little shame, somehow still meant I was fully Kept Up With all 15 seasons of The Kardashians). Any minute over or under was unacceptable.

Being at Penn didn’t exactly help. This school is a place where competition thrives. It’s a school with a go–go–go culture, a train

Jessi Olarsch | Illustrator

were nothing new. They were exact echoes of similar ones that I’d had two years earlier.

The summer after freshman year, my childhood best friend died. Over the next six months, I nearly lost both of my parents on separate occasions, my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, and my sister got married (which is good!), but it felt as if I had lost the last bit of what was completely mine.

And I cried. Of course I did.

It’d probably be psychopathic if I didn’t. Choked with anxiety and paralyzed by the guilt of not having tried enough and not

familiarity, i.e. the Plan™.

I allotted two weeks to get over myself. After that, I needed to continue with my life. And so I did, blindly following the Plan™. I went to all my classes, spent hours lazing around on couches not my own, and presented myself at those weekly GBMs. Each minute of my life was assigned to a category of work or play. Ten minutes to walk to class. 50 minutes to finish the reading. One hour at Distrito. While I did acknowledge some inkling of the importance of mental health, self–care too was mired under a

that will take all those on board to its final destination of success.

To me, that meant if I stopped for just a second to linger on a passing thought, I would fall off the train. I would ruin that Five Year Plan™, never be successful, and die in the cold under a bridge in Brooklyn.

My days planned down to the minute eventually took a toll. I still went to classes, still grabbed dinner with people, and went to GBMs. I was still on that path to “success,” but with the anxiety reaching new heights, so too was the path until I was walking a high rope, trembling with each

step.

The tumor forced me to take the semester off. For the most part, the beginning was spent just waiting for the next consult, the next scan, and the next set of results. Not knowing when and whether I’d need to be admitted to the hospital, any planning was out of the question. So, for the first time in a long time, I had absolutely nothing to do.

At first, it was a little unsettling. The voice in the back of my head was suddenly stripped of its powers. It was the feeling of having the whole day ahead.

A sort of looseness that disregards the iron grip of the clock.

It was the feeling of not being anxious, and it was unsettling because of its very unfamiliarity.

From time to time, my mind wandered back to the Plan™.

The remnants of the unshakable feeling that I had failed lingered.

They’re still there and they’ll probably be there next week, but hopefully, a little weaker. It takes a lot of reminding myself that first, I need to be alive and healthy, physically and mentally, to succeed on my own terms.

January 14th was not the best day of my life, but it wasn’t the worst. On that day, I worried about my Plan™, which, stripped of its flair, was nothing but a plan for no mistakes, no surprises, and no changes. As it turns out, that’s not really a thing.

That day forced me to give myself time, a situation I never would have chosen for myself, but probably needed most. That day, I found something that gave me the time to reach Level 1500 on Candy Crush, blow through all three seasons of The Good Place, and—beyond that—just sit peacefully with myself. My tumor eased my anxiety and for that, I am, at the very least, grateful.

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Etha n

Wu |M edia D

irect or

YEAR: Senior HOMETOWN: Miami, Florida MAJOR/MINOR: Computer Science ACTIVITIES: New Member Educator for Sigma Delta Tau, previous social chair for Theta Tau, president of Hex Senior Society, member of Carriage Senior Society

34th Street: What was it like growing up in Miami?

Dani Lozano: Miami is a crazy place. I actually grew up on this island called Key Biscayne, so I grew up very island–life. I drove golf carts around when I was 13 years old, definitely illegal—oh god, don’t arrest me now. It was one of the safest places, I think, in the country. I don't know, I might just be bullshitting that. It's a huge cultural melting pot. I spoke Spanish with all my friends. I'm Colombian and I speak Spanish with my parents at all hours. They speak English, but it's a very thick accent—think Gloria from Modern Family. But in a way, it's not diverse because everyone I know is Latino, and that's all I've ever known. So when I came here it was different. But the biggest culture shock was having to say hi to people without giving them a kiss, which I think we should all adopt because I think it breaks a lot of ice. But in Miami, you go around the entire party, and you say hi to everyone with a kiss.

Period. You feel like you know everyone while you're there.

Street: Why did you decide to join SDT? DL: I never would have imagined myself being in a sorority, but once you get down to the bare bones of what it is, it's another support system on this campus. It just seemed like the thing to do, and obviously as a freshman you don't know what the hell you're doing, so you're like, 'Whatever, it looks like people are doing this.' … I chose 4

SDT because it was the one sorority that while I was rushing I could feel like they had a really strong sisterhood, as cliche as that is, but you can tell if the people are actually friends with each other. And I just vibed with them.

Street: Why did you decide to join Theta Tau? DL: The way I heard about Theta Tau? You’ll learn—through this interview, I guess—that my brother is a pretty big influence on my life. We’re different personalities in a way, but we're very similar people in our interests.

We've been together, obviously, since birth. We went to the same high school, obviously the same college; he's also in comp sci and engineering. He was also on Theta Tau, so he introduced me to a lot of people there, and I saw how much fun he was having in that community. I had joined SDT my freshman spring and there's not many engineers— there's maybe six engineers in my pledge class of maybe 50 girls, I was still missing that. And every single person I met in Theta Tau was super, super genuine, super nice, and it’s a diverse group of people.

Street: Why did you decide to join both?

DL: I love having both. Actually encourage every single engineer that comes through SDT to rush Theta Tau and I got two last semester. They're just so different that they satisfy different needs. They’re two communities, two support systems. SDT might not be diverse culturally—

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Ego of the Week Penn senior Dani Lozano on being her authentic self as a gay Latina woman, studying engineering, and working for Microsoft

By Amanpreet Singh

I think that’s an issue with the Greek system in general—but they’re diverse major–wise, so I learn a lot about different perceptions academically and intellectually.

Obviously in Theta Tau, everyone's an engineer, within which there are different disciplines, but everyone there is more culturally diverse, and have a variety of interests that might not just be social. They’re more weird in a way.

We call it 'Theta Tau Weird'—it’s like our brand.

Street: Why did you decide to join the Carriage Senior Society?

DL: My freshman year, I was coming with a lot of baggage and a lot of ties to home. Seattle [Microsoft internship] was the first time I was away from all that. It was kind of nice because I had my two communities: I had SDT, I had Theta Tau. I knew I was loved and cared for.

I felt supported. I was like, 'Seattle, I’m going to own this city.'

It’s a very queer city also, and I decided to just be myself there.

I've always known that I'm gay.

It was never like, 'oh, I'm curious.' It was something I've always known—I was deliberately hiding it from people. That summer was really great and then I went abroad, too, so it was another opportunity to explore. I had this great eight months of living by myself, and that just became my life. So when I came back my junior spring, I was just like, game over, because this is who I am. I started getting more involved in the queer community and it was really amazing because I found some of the greatest people that I’ve known at Penn and I’m still meeting them now to this day.

Street: What are your

thoughts on diversity in Greek Life?

DL: Because I'm in SDT, people usually paint me as a white Jewish girl. I just don't fit any of those labels, so it's actually led me to be more loud about who I am, because it seems like people continue to erase my identity. It's a vicious cycle, and it's on both ends. First of all, dues are way too expensive financially. It's not sustainable for anyone that's low income, and usually the majority of the time those are minorities. Also there's this whole issue with sororities being stereotyped.

If people want to join SDT and they're not Jewish or whatever, they feel uncomfortable in those environments, so they decide not to join. They miss out on this amazing sisterhood, because we don't give a shit if you're Jewish or not. Everyone is really wel-

coming, and I've never felt out of place there. We try to dismantle the idea that we're just one kind of person. We've been working on that with our diversity committee for the last three or four years and we're pretty aggressive on that front. I am straight–passing and white–passing in a way, which angers me, but I continue to use that privilege to get more visibility. Being on the executive board is important because, with the new members, I'm very clear about who I am. I am a gay woman, I am Latina—this is who I am. Just having that ability makes that one girl who's maybe a little nervous about it feel a little better, knowing that you can be whatever and still play an important role in this sorority, and be respected.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

LIGHTING ROUND Smokes' or Copa? Oh my God. So I'm a Copa ambassador. I live literally right next to Copa. I put on this crazy happy hour the other day and they gave me a sweater, so l'm forced to say Copa. But I do frequent Smokes'.

Favorite type of food? Sushi. Japanese, for sure.

Do you have any hidden talents or skills?? I guess I can beatbox. I love doing LoveStoned by Justin Timberlake. But I never joined an acapella group. Maybe one regret. Maybe I should have done that. My voice is not that great.

Favorite language to code in? The language depends on what you're making. I guess my favorite one is Java because it's the one I know best and you can make most things in JavaScript.

What is your favorite video game to play on the Xbox? So right now it's Fortnite, because it's easier to play than PUGB, so I don't want people to hate me. And I have not checked out the new Battle Royale game.

There are two types of people at Penn...Those who ask 'why' and those who ask 'why not.' You need 'why not' people in your life. Also shout out Remi and Raquel for that one—they’ll kill me if I don’t.

EGO

Dr. Jorge Santiago-Aviles on His Passion for Supercapacitors, Gardening and Living in KCECH Megan Kyne | Photographer

The KCECH faculty director and electrical engineering professor discusses his love for the sciences.

Chelsey Zhu

Something that immediately stands out when you speak to Kings Court English House (KCECH) Faculty Director Dr. Jorge Santiago-Aviles is his intense love of gardening.

“We’re going to have apples, and we’re going to have peaches, and we’re going to have cherries, and we’re going to have apricots,” he says to me warmly, gesturing outside to the KCECH courtyard.

Although it’s currently snowing outside, I can imagine the bare trees flowering and fruiting in spring.

“And then you’re going to see birds, and then the squirrels all around. It’s wonderful for living in a city,” he says, laughing. “We have a wonderful oasis here.”

A professor of electrical and systems engineering, Santiago-Aviles spends a lot of time researching and

lecturing about supercapacitors—powerful capacitors that store and release energy at a much quicker rate than batteries. This doesn’t seem like it relates all that much to his love of nature or his job as faculty director, but for him, science is the glue that binds all of his other passions together.

In his first year of college in Puerto Rico, he met a physics professor whose teaching inspired his scientific curiosity.

“She saw physics so clearly, and her explanations were so persuasive,” he says.

“And I thought, oh, my God, physics must be such a wonderful, wonderful thing.

She is my hero.”

Four years later, he graduated with a bachelor's degree in Physics from the University of Puerto Rico and a doctorate in Materials Science and Engineering

from Pennsylvania State University.

Hoping to support his family and make a difference in the world, SantiagoAviles decided to become an engineer, focusing on how to bring human energy consumption into the future. He believes that humans will need to rely on electrical energy to curb the negative effects of climate change. He believes improving the efficiency of supercapacitors is a promising path to securing an environmentally sustainable future.

Working at Penn in the 1980s gave him the opportunity to turn his love for STEM and environmentalism into real change for students. He learned that the staff at KCECH were interested in starting a science residential program, so when he was offered the position, he took it and be-

gan to work on the program right away. The project eventually became known as STWing, the Science and Technology Wing, a program that has been on the cutting edge of Penn STEM for more than 20 years.

According to SantiagoAviles, one of the first computer servers Penn owned had its home in STWing. Members of the program currently host Penn Course Review and maintain the courtyard through the KCECH Gardening Club, whose efforts have earned them three awards from the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society.

Since the inception of STWing, Santiago-Aviles has worked with other campus leaders to introduce residential programs in a variety of fields. As of today, KCECH houses STWing, Biosphere, the Huntsman

Program, Perspectives in Humanities, and Women in Computer Science.

Although Santiago-Aviles has been instrumental in making KCECH a special community, he made sure to stress that the residential programs and visiting speakers couldn’t have been successful without the work of other faculty, including the house dean, house coordinator, and countless RAs and GAs who have worked in the building over the years. And the best part of KCECH? “You guys,” he says, referring to the students.

Santiago-Aviles will be retiring from his faculty director position next year to write and travel, ending his decades–long career at KCECH. But the impact of his work in STEM (and his lovely courtyard garden) will stay with the college house for years to come.

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Meet the Women Behind OWN IT Penn This conference aimed to create conversation about female empowerment and leadership.

Emma Moore Looking for inspiration or a nice dose of girl power? Look no further than the third annual OWN IT Penn summit on Saturday, Feb. 16th. OWN IT Penn is a women’s empowerment organization that aims to bridge the gap between female leaders of today and the students who admire them, as well as provide a forum for discussing the barriers women face in the workforce. Featuring 24 speakers from all walks of life, ranging from activism to fashion to healthcare to finance, attendees experienced a day full of inspiration and feminist discussion.

“Diversity is one of our core values,” explains Nadine Maglia (W '20) the co–president of OWN IT Penn. This year’s speaker roster reflects that mission.

6

Speakers come from as close as Philly, including Penn alum and GenHERation CEO Kaitlyn Grasso, to as far as LA: Amanda Southworth, teenage app builder and mental health advocate. Dawn Robertson, the keynote speaker, shares her 30 years of experience in business leadership from being the president of Old Navy to starting Macys.com and Bloomingdales. com. This year’s speakers in politics included Val Arkoosh, the highest elected female official in Pennsylvania government, and Rachel Dean Wilson, former communications director for John McCain. There was also Dawn Goldworm, an internationally renowned scent expert and the nose behind fragrances for Lady Gaga, Adidas, Mercedes Benz, and many more.

The arts were also highlighted with Monika Estrella Negra, a filmmaker who produces horror films and runs Audre’s Revenge, an arts collective for queer people of color.

“Success has a broad and inclusive definition at OWN IT,” explains Nadine, noting that although the speakers come

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from diverse professional fields, each is “successful because she lives an authentic and purposeful life.”

Growing up in Zurich, Switzerland, Nadine says her family was format i v e in shaping her understanding of female empowerment.

“I’m very lucky my parents encouraged me to explore all my interests and reach for the stars. They always treated me as an equal to my older brother. However, I noticed early on that the world was not as receptive to my big ideas as to his.”

After her first internship in finance, the gender gap was even more apparent to Nadine, “I noticed right away that there were very few if any women in the upper ranks.” Disappointed by the lack of female representation in power positions, Nadine resolved to advocate for equality, joining OWN IT Penn her sophomore year. “Even if I believe I have the dedication, willpower, and skills to work

myself up the ladder, it’s hard seeing no one like me at the top.”

An aspiring entrepreneur herself, Nadine finds the conference refreshing, especially “coming from Wharton where sometimes it seems finance is the only option.”

Now in its third year, OWN IT Penn is shifting its focus from solely women’s leadership to a more inclusive discussion of female empowerment.

“We wanted to create space to discuss barriers women face and how both men and women work to decrease these barriers,” explains Aiden Brossfield (C ’20), co–president of OWN IT Penn. She stresses that although the speakers are all female, the goal of OWN IT Penn is to advance gender equality and create a space for discussion among attendees of all gender identities.

For Aiden, the topic hits close to home. “Gender equality is important on both sides. I grew up with a stay–at–home dad

and a mother working 60–hour weeks as a doctor,” she explains, noting the double standards both parents faced in non–traditional roles.

Aiden says her mother’s success is her strongest motivator to pursue medicine after college.

"Since I was young I saw my mom both as a working mother and a successful doctor and wanted to emulate that," she says. At the conference Aiden’s mother, Jeralyn Brossfield, shared her experiences breaking down gender barriers in healthcare, from being told not to apply for residency programs “unsuitable” for pregnant women to balancing life as a working mother.

Aiden stresses, “We’re trying to be as accessible as possible.”

MUSIC

THE OF FRENCH HOUSE

Isabel Liang | Illustrator

Long gone are the days of Daft Punk’s 'Discovery' PAUL LITWIN

French house, a musical genre often defined as a combination of Euro disco and Deep house, used to be everywhere. You definitely know it if you’ve ever heard anything by Daft Punk prior to Random Access Memories (perhaps "One More Time" or "Harder Better Faster Stronger") or "D.A.N.C.E" by Justice.

Characterized by head–banging drum machines, glittery synthesizers and sequencers, and filtered samples of '70s and '80s music, French house can be seen as the bass–head electronic cousin of disco. Yet, despite the genre itself being just barely 3 decades old, we are beginning to see it die out.

The most well–known French house artists, particularly Daft Punk and Busy P, are adjusting to new tastes. Daft Punk’s latest album, Random Access Memories, is inarguably one of their best and yet, it is a complete departure from the original sound of the French duo that launched them to fame. Upon listening to the hits from Daft Punk’s stellar sophomore album, Discovery, one can immediately recognize the signature trappings of French house. Many memorable solo tracks off Discovery—including “Aerodynamic,” “Harder Better Faster Stronger,” and “One More Time”—are hallmarks of Daft Punk’s sound in the late 1990s and early 2000s, with pounding drums, rapid, chopped samples, and groovy synthesizers. “Aerodynamic” features a warped, shredding electronic guitar solo, while "Television Rules the Nation" (off their next full–length album, Human After All) utilizes a dark, ominous beat—both staples of typical

French house.

However, fast–forward to 2013’s Random Access Memories, and Daft Punk has shifted to a whole new sound. Gone are the rapturous drums, the electronically–modified guitar, and the menacing beat. Instead, Daft Punk blazed a completely new path, abandoning the French house sound for something more like smooth disco. Daft Punk even called on Giorgio Moroder, a man known as the “Father of Disco,” for a feature on a nine–minute groove of a song titled “Giorgio by Moroder,” and recruited Pharrell Williams for the smooth track "Lose Yourself To Dance" and the global mega–hit, "Get Lucky." Daft Punk clearly recognized a shift in their sound was necessary for widespread success, and they certainly saw more success upon departing from French house—Random Access Memories debuted at number one on Billboard’s Top 200, selling 339,000 copies in its first week alone.

The men behind Daft Punk, however, are not the only ones to have seen the writing on the wall. Another pioneer of French house, Busy P, has shifted his sound recently to appeal to more mainstream tastes. His newest song, “Genie,” retains many signature aspects of French house—a chopped sample and funky synthesizer— but cuts the static sounds and foreboding tone which used to be more common on his tracks from years prior. Clearly, Busy P has also identified a trend in which slightly shifting sounds may appeal to a broader audience, as the tone of many typical French house songs can easily

come off as aggressive, intimidating, and unwelcoming to the casual listener.

However, some artists are not lending credence to the notion that French house is dead, as Parisian duo Justice has continuously combined elements of disco, funk, metal, and house into their take on French house.

Their debut album, Justice, was one of the best French house albums of the 20th century, featuring standout hits such as “D.A.N.C.E, ”“Genesis,” “DVNO,” and “Phantom/ Phantom Pt. II.” Yet, in both their 2011 album Audio, Video, Disco, and their 2016 album Woman, the French duo manages to hang onto the

hallmarks of French house without experiencing a dip in popularity. Granted, many of their newer songs are undoubtedly influenced by other genres—Audio Video Disco’s “New Lands” and “On’n’On” could easily fit into any soft rock playlist, while the chorus and expansive instrumental on Woman’s “Safe and Sound” hardly fit into the mold of French house’s dark and gloomy production—but their French house sound is still, for the most part, ever–present.

From a broad perspective, it's clear that French house is in

the midst of a serious decline, as most pioneers of the genre are shifting sounds or combining French house with other genres. Other former leaders of the genre have simply fallen off the map. For instance, the French DJ SebastiAn, best– known for his song “Embody," simply hasn’t released new solo music in over nine years. While the genre may lack radio appeal or chart–topping hits these days, the decline of French house marks a saddening end to a thriving time for electronic music.Isabel Liang | Illustrator

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'what chaos is imaginary' is best The duo's sound has changed, but their chemistry remains intact.

Cleo Tucker and Harmony Tividad formed Girlpool as teenagers living in Los Angeles. Armed with just a guitar and bass, the two–piece sang in inseparable harmony on their unique brand of folk punk jams. Simple instrumentation left them nowhere in their tracks to hide, but hiding was never Girlpool’s intention; their sharp singing took lyrical swings at slut–shaming and white male privilege on their 2014 debut Girlpool.

Over course of their three releases since 2014, Girlpool has had one voice. Tucker and

Tividad’s high pitched harmonies were the band's signature, and even with the addition of drummer Miles Wintner, the vocals always took center stage in the mix. On What Chaos is Imaginary, songs belong to Tividad or Tucker, yet their chemistry remains wholly intact as they fill out their sound with added instrumentation and diversified production.

Since coming out as transgender in 2017, Tucker's singing voice has lowered as a result of hormone replacement therapy. As Tucker and Tividad’s voices have sonically

separated, so have their riffs.

Previously, their guitar and bass lines often complemented each other on a note by note basis somewhat reminiscent of the Violent Femmes. Even on Powerplant (2017), Girlpool still sounded like the same two–piece from their first two records; an added drummer never took away from the duo’s interwoven aesthetic.

What Chaos is Imaginary finds Girlpool expanding their sound, opting for retro synths and drum machines in songs like “What Chaos is Imaginary” and “Minute In Your

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Mind.”

Still, songs like “Lucky Joke” and “Swamp and Bay” have a familiar folk rock sound, but rather than being influenced by punk, Girlpool chooses to settle back into these tracks with a hard–hitting 90’s alt–rock vibe. This stylistic choice works for them because, overall, their production is much cleaner; the bass sits deeply in the mix and the guitars have a cleaner crunch to them. It seems Tucker and Tividad have learned that you don’t have to be loud to be listened to.

What Chaos is Imaginary grapples with change and chronicles the emotional woes that come with it.

“You were such an idol/ You were the whole world/ Now you see/You look pretty broken,” Tividad softly sings on “Pretty,” as she examines a past lover, noticing their flaws. This sincere and uncomplicated yet entirely poetic lyrical style is consistent throughout the album as Tucker and Tividad simultaneously struggle with and stand up to the past.

TL;DR - Should I Listen

to this What Chaos is Imaginary?

Absolutely. What Chaos is Imaginary is Girlpool’s best work yet. If you like indie– rock, 90’s alt–rock, or bands like Snail Mail and Soccer Mommy, you’ll probably like this album. Be warned, this isn’t indie–pop, and Girlpool has shied away from pop songwriting structures–they’re more talented than that.

Thus, What Chaos is Imaginary is not an easy listen the whole way through, but it does deserve your full attention.

essential tracks "Pretty" "Hire" "What Chaos is Imaginary"

MUSIC

The Grammys Continue to Fail Hip–Hop and Rap Artists It's time for the biggest music awards show to step it up.

TERESA XIE

Jake Lem | Illustrator

Wedged between the Golden Globes and the Oscars, the Grammys always seems to be the arts award show that's hastily passed by. The first Grammys were in 1959 when only 28 different awards were given out. Since then, categories have been added and removed, and at one point even reached more than 100.

However, even with the addition of new categories, the Grammys still don't feel like they're inclusive to important genres of the music industry, the most obvious being hip– hop and rap.

The last time the Grammy for Album of the Year went to the rap genre was in 2004, when Outkast’s Speakerboxxx/ The Love Below took the highest award of the night.

That was fifteen years ago.

Kendrick Lamar and Drake declined invitations to perform at this year's ceremony, despite having the most Grammy nominations of the night. It was even more awkward when Childish Gambino’s “This is America” was the first rap song ever to win Best Song of the Year and he wasn’t there to accept the award. Drake was there to accept his win for Best Rap Song for “God’s Plan,” only to have his speech cut off. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially after Drake posted

an Instagram picture shortly after with the caption “Too raw for TV.” Even though Kendrick Lamar performed at the Grammys last year, the absence of big hip–hop and rap artists at the Grammys shouldn’t be a surprise. The category of Best Rap Album caused uproar in 2014 when Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’s The Heist won over Kendrick Lamar’s good kid, m.A.A.d. City. The dissonance between rap artists and the Grammy awards has a long history, dating all the way back to 1989 when DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince, J.J. Fad, LL Cool J, and Salt– N–Pepa were all nominated for the Best Rap Performance Award and it wasn’t televised.

The relationship between the Grammys and hip–hop and rap implies a lack of respect for these genres and their cultural significance in America. When some of the biggest artists of this generation collectively take a stand against the biggest award ceremony dedicated to musicians, there’s clearly a problem. The issue doesn’t lie in the fact that hip–hop and rap artists aren’t getting nominated for awards–it's that they rarely actually take them home. Last year, Jay–Z was nominated eight times, but didn’t end up winning

anything. At a concert in 2012, Kanye West voiced his opinion on the Grammys by saying, “Since when was making art about getting rich? … Remind me again why we in this shit? Remind me again why the Grammys [can] suck my dick.” However, other artists like John Legend caution against an all out boycott, saying that not showing up isn’t a true solution.

That’s not to say that The Recording Academy isn’t trying to improve the Grammys.

Last year, they faced criticism

because only one female artist won a solo award, and this year Alicia Keys hosted the show with a slew of powerful women around her, including Michelle Obama, Lady Gaga, and Jennifer Lopez. Cardi B made history this year as the first solo female artist to win Best Rap Album. Nine hundred new members were also added to The Recording Academy to provide more diversity in the votes that contribute to deciding awards. However, it’s going to take more than that to brand the Grammys as an awards

show that the music industry and their fans take seriously.

By consistently snubbing hip–hop and rap artists in nomination categories that feature a wide range of genres, the Grammys shows a lack of respect to the hip– hop and rap community. If the Grammys want to stay culturally relevant, it’s going to take collaboration between hip–hop and rap artists and The Recording Academy.

Only then will it become an awards show that truly reflects the culture of the music world.

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SEARCHES FOR INNER PEACE WITH HIS LATEST ALBUM, The eclectic artist grapples with identity and self–acceptance in this standout 2019 album.

PAUL LITWIN Chaz Bear, known professionally as Toro y Moi, is notorious for utilizing a wide array of funky beats inspired by numerous genres in his music.

Bear's latest work, Outer Peace, marks a tangible step forward in his ability to weave new sounds into a cohesive album. While his previous album Boo Boo is a pleasant, lighthearted work of psychedelic synth music, Outer Peace marks a sonic departure into a new breezy funk vibe interspersed with emotional, slow–burning beats.

“Ordinary Pleasure,” previously released as a single, is easily the star of the first half of the album. Featuring groovy conga drums, the song masterfully combines Bear's pondering about fetishization of pleasure and sex in music with a beat that recalls a time where music wasn’t as dominated by billboard–friendly themes of sex and overproduced stadium anthems. He sings, “Does sex even sell anymore/I feel like I’ve seen it all/Or maybe I’m just old/Or maybe I’m just bored,” questioning our current musical zeitgeist while reverting back to a tried–and–true recipe of simplicity in beats: keys, bass, and drums (with a little conga sprinkled in, as well). The music video for “Ordinary Pleasure” hits the point home even further, as its entire premise is

Photos provided by Orienteer PR

a single camera shot following Bear around as he shows the viewer his video and different people dancing, painting, and enjoying the simplicities and “ordinary pleasures” in life.

While the heart of the album—“New House” and “Baby Drive It Down”— slows in tempo, Toro y Moi still showcases his ability to incorporate some groove into otherwise minimalistic beats.

“New House” in particular is what Pitchfork deems a “sneaky highlight” of the album, a song which hints at the difficulty that millennials and Generation Z will have becoming homeowners in a changing urban world. He also laments in his second verse, "I ain’t even make it off the jetway/Phone’s been on blast like all day/Why you gotta do this? Try to test me/ Right when I touchdown, got anxiety." As an obvious nod to being tied to your phone and the increased anxiety of being socially available, “New House” calls out the issues we encounter as constantly connected twenty–somethings.

If the middle of Outer Peace represents the moment to take a break from the dance floor to have a drink and an introspective conversation, “Freelance” symbolizes being (perhaps begrudgingly) dragged back out onto the dance floor for some

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more shifty dance rhythms.

With “Freelance” being arguably the most dance floor–ready track on the album, Toro y Moi reintroduces the listener to his upbeat funk–disco sound in a marked departure from those slower tracks of the middle of the album—and yet, he still makes these transitions in pace feel seamless.

“Who I Am,” immediately following “Freelance,” continues Outer Peace’s theme of coupling groovy disco–inspired electronic pop with lyrics of identity crises and uncertainty.

In the chorus, Bear sings, “This might be my brand new sound/ Psychedelic, oh, wow/Add an accent to your sound/Now I don’t know who I am/Now I don’t know who I am/Now I don’t know who I am." Yet, what Bear hopes to accomplish lyrically with “Who I Am” misses the mark. While the beat itself—mixed by Toro y Moi and his longtime co–producer Patrick Jones—is an absolute masterpiece, the message doesn't hit home like it does on other tracks. The song itself is a full three and a half minutes, but Toro y Moi only produces the chorus and one other verse throughout the song, leaving a sense of lyrical shallowness that isn’t sufficient for Bear to deliver profound questions of identity and uncertainty.

For all the struggles Toro y Moi faces when conveying his identity crises on “Who I Am,” the final song on Outer Peace, “50–50,” is a strong sendoff.

Outer Peace is dedicated to finding self–fulfillment within a sea of internal doubts and worries. While these issues can't be wrapped up in a storybook ending, Toro y Moi leaves the listener with a fleeting sense of comfort and autonomy. In his final verse, Bear defiantly states, “For a second, I forgot who I was/For a minute, I was over you/For that year, I was looking down/Someone hold me down, down with the truth/Die for my love, die for my grind/50–50 fail, fuck it, I'mma die flying," marking his decision to follow his passions and accept the consequences of falling short.

In an interview with illroots, Toro y Moi said of his album, “Outer Peace is sort of a reference to the process of being creative, being like our escape–within all of the crazy shit that can go on in society, and everyday life and just personal shit, we have to find peace within ourselves

and then we also just have to hold it together when we’re out in public.” It seems that Toro y Moi’s decision to constantly shift the pacing and tempo of songs within the album is a creative choice itself, indicative of his uncertainty in searching for self–acceptance. Through this angle, Outer Peace may just be Toro y Moi’s most relatable work yet, as a testament to the search for happiness and contentment in a world of competition, insecurity, and hesitance. And for that, Toro y Moi’s latest album certainly feels like a step towards inner peace.

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Adiel Izilov | Photographer

Philly Restaurant 'Ardiente' Lets You Infuse Any Dish With CBD

This Latin Asian Fusion restaurant is hopping on the nationwide trend, and we're here for it.

BY ZOE YOUNG

One peculiar trend has started to take businesses across the country by storm, and those in Philadelphia are no exception. It's called CBD, and you've probably heard of it. Stripped of THC— the chemical which causes the normal “high” from marijuana—CBD, or cannabidiol, is non–psychoactive. CBD is legal in Pennsylvania, but it still raises some constitutional concerns, according to Nihad Hajdarhodzic.

He is the owner of Philly’s Latin Asian fusion restaurant, Ardiente, which has recently adopted optional CBD into their menu.

Hajdarhodzic explains that Ardiente only began to offer CBD in cocktails and food two and a half months ago. The CBD oil they offer has absolutely no trace of THC. “It would never show up on a drug test,” Hajdarhodzic explains. Brilliant, I thought.

One peculiar trend has started to take businesses across the country by storm, and those in Philadelphia are no exception. It's called

CBD, a n d you've p r o b ably heard of it.

Stripped of THC— the chemical which causes the normal “high” from marijuana—CBD, or cannabidiol, is non–psychoactive. CBD is legal in Pennsylvania, but it still raises some constitutional concerns, according to Nihad Hajdarhodzic.

He is the owner of Philly’s Latin Asian fusion restaurant, Ardiente, which has recently adopted optional CBD into their menu.

Hajdarhodzic explains that Ardiente only began to offer CBD in cocktails and food two and a half months ago. The CBD oil they offer has absolutely no trace of THC. “It would never show up on a drug test,” Hajdarhodzic explains. Brilliant, I thought.

Inside of Ardiente, a jazz rendition of “You Know How I Feel” blares. The dim lighting in the room creates an inviting ambiance, along with the restaurant's red, orange, and green tones.

Hajdarhodzic brings us a sampling of three mocktails: Mango limeade, Tropicolada, and Pepi le Cuke. Each drink is mixed with an undetectable 10mg of CBD. After ten minutes, the tension I feel in my head from a long day of school and exhaustion has lifted.

CBD poses a specific benefit to those who are mandated to take drug tests, such as athletes or government employees. Hajdarhodzic recalls an event Ardiente hosted for federal employees whose CBD meal was free of charge. “A lot of people were skeptical, but then a lot of people said ‘Oh my god this is incredible, since I can have the benefits of this without being petrified of being fired,’” Hajdarhodzic explains as the chilled octopus salad we ordered arrives at the table.

When asked where he sees the CBD trend going in the future, he has a lot to say. His prediction is that brands like Wawa and La Colombe will eventually jump on this train. “If you look at the trends with marijuana and hemp–based projects in general, the future is here,” he assures us.

Hopping on this trend of CBD–infused food and drinks is not the only thing that Ardiente

is doing right—they also have an incredibly personal dining experience.

“I don’t look at my job from an ‘I’m a server and you’re just my guest’ angle. We’re human beings, we’re having an interaction that could be heightened with camaraderie... And I’m all about camaraderie,” says André M. Evers, the savvy, charismatic hostess of Ardiente.

Evers knows the inner workings of his role as maître d'. “I don’t look at it as like a job. There shouldn’t be any barriers [between servers and guests]. Sometimes you have difficult guests, who have a selective style of going out, so you just have to be mindful of that and able to cater to their needs and know what they want or need even before they know they need it.”

At Ardiente, there are no brief exchanges between servers and guests. Each time Evers comes to our table to serve us, he sits down at the adjacent table and sparks up a conversation. We discuss his adolescence, his experience as an undergrad at Temple University, and his passion for acting. He asks us about our academics and interests, treating us like we’ve been friends for years.

His is carefree attitude sticks with me as I take bites out of the CBD–infused Brussel sprouts he has delivered to our table.

The taste of shaved Brussel sprouts—perfectly roasted to a crisp and made with preserved lemon vinaigrette—mix incredibly with the citrus flavor of the certified double zero CBD oil. At the end of the dinner, I genuinely feel more relaxed

physically and mentally. And after tasting the spicy shrimp bao with honey sriracha and lime cilantro mayo; skirt steak bibimbap; chilled octopus salad; and chicharron fried rice, I will undoubtedly be back.

CBD–infused or not, these dishes were incredible.

I believe in Hajdarhodzic and his mission at Ardiente. This restaurant is delicious, personal, and unafraid. While I left feeling grateful for CBD and all of its benefits, Ardiente is infused with that and so much more.

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By Katrina Janco

BEING AT PENN WHEN DISASTER STRIKES AT HOME

Mary Osunlana It was a week after Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, and Emmanuel Suarez Acevedo (E’19) thought his parents might be dead. He spent “every waking moment looking up information on Puerto Rico to see if they heard anything about my hometown, seeing images of my hometown completely destroyed. Places that were just a two minute drive away from me, completely flooded, that [made me] wonder … ‘Is my house completely flooded? Are my parents literally underwater right now, waiting for someone to find their bodies?’”

Hurricanes are an expected part of life in Puerto Rico. Emmanuel notes that Hurricane Irma, which hit the island on Sept. 6th, 2017, was “especially bad.” Nevertheless, his family and other Puerto Ricans “were mostly back on their feet after a while.” Only two weeks later, Hurricane Maria struck. Upon making landfall on Sept. 20th, 2017, Maria’s powerful winds knocked out power for the entire island and were accompanied by massive floods. Both forces combined to destroy Puerto Rico’s infrastructure and millions of homes. “My mom said she had never heard anything so scary as the time she was in the actual heat of the hurricane,” Emmanuel says.

“She could swear the world was literally being destroyed outside. She was expecting to see nothing except her house.”

Along with carrying that anxiety, Emmanuel still had to be a student.

“I was simultaneously trying to study for exams, while simultaneously interviewing, because I was also recruiting for jobs for that summer at the same time, and simultaneously trying to figure out financial aid, because I needed to pay rent soon, and I didn’t have money to pay my rent,” he says.

Between hurricanes in the Atlantic, deadly heat waves in Europe and 1 2 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E F E B R U A R Y 2 0 , 2 01 9

Ethan Wu | Media Director

Australia, and earthquakes in southeast Asia, the world has seen an alarming rise in natural disasters in the past few decades, dating back to the 1970s. In 1966, there were 80 natural disasters, while in 2018 there were 282. For Penn students far from home, the effects can range from sudden financial difficulties to secondary trauma. Despite the policies and resources available at Penn, facing natural disasters during the course of a semester can be a lonely, frightening challenge.

According to the Division of the Vice Provost for University Life

(VPUL), Penn staff are tasked with identifying and reaching out to affected students as quickly as possible in the event of a natural disaster.

Emmanuel, however, says he was not contacted by an administrator immediately after Maria began, although he did get in contact with administration via email nine days later. “Immediately after this happens I should not be expected to jump through hoops to get basic help,” he says.

“I should be reached by Student Financial Services or Student Intervention Services, saying, ‘Hello, we realize that you’ve had this life changing disaster happen. What do you need to get through the semester, what do you need to get through the week?’ And letting my professors know, so my professors be aware of my situation, and each of them can act accordingly.”

Although hurricanes are also a normal part of life in Florida, for Mary Osunlana (C’20), who has lived in Fort Lauderdale since she was seven, Hurricane Irma was more concerning. With its 185 mph winds and record duration as a Category 5 hurricane, Irma is considered one of the most powerful hurricanes to ever form in the Atlantic Ocean.

“We have our hurricane season which is around when school starts, so usually I’m not thinking too hard about hurricanes,” Mary says. “So when I hearing the first inklings about it, I didn’t think too much of it. But eventually it was supposed to be something serious, so I started calling my parents and making sure that they were getting everything together for that.”

Even from afar, knowing that loved ones are experiencing a hurricane is stressful. “It’s just nerve wracking, because there’s literally nothing you can do,” she says. She compared to when she had been to a shelter in a basement of a hospital when she was younger where all she could do was wait, following a deadly hurricane, but it is all the more frustrating when far away. She describes feeling “fear for anything could happen, even though I knew my area, Broward County, was on the outskirts of the eye of the storm. You just never know how intense or what would happen in a storm like that.”

Mary’s house and family suffered no serious damage. Generally, she and her family haven’t been seriously affected by these natural disasters.

But Mary worries for the future, especially given the rising incidence of natural disasters and looming effects of climate change. “I can imagine a future where there’s a worse hurricane,” she says. “Me and my brother talk about how Florida will be underwater in like fifty years, and so we just live with natural disasters being imminent at any point in Florida.”

The staff at the Kelly Writers House, where she works, reached out to her. She also, like all Penn students, received the Penn administration’s

"Is my house completely flooded? Are my parents literally underwater right now, waiting for someone to find their bodies?" — Emmanuel Suarez Acevedo (E’19)

“I keep interviewing people who have kids who cry every time it rains.”

— Syra Ortiz–Blanes (C’17) email expressing their “deepest sympathies” for those affected by Irma.

Like hurricanes in Florida and Puerto Rico, California fires are “an expectation,” according to Thousand Oaks native Vasant Iyer, a second year PhD student in Engineering. However, on Nov. 7, 2018, a devastating wildfire, known as the Woolsey Fire, caught fire for weeks. Vasant says that of the fires he’s experienced, “none have ever been this close.” While his home and family were safe, hiking trails and a camp he used to go to with his orchestra were burned down. “[I] was just following that on the news, looking at the maps of where the fire is spreading, and thinking about, ‘Oh, what’s not gonna be there when I go home?’”

“No one is not affected by that,” he says of the fire, which burned 97,000 acres and can be seen from space. “There’s so much smoke from the fire that the sun is obscured, and it looks blood red, and there’s ash is [sic] raining down.”

For Vasant, having some labmates and friends that knew he was going through something difficult was helpful. “People were aware that it was something I was going through, and that recognition from my classmates and friends was good enough for me,” Vasant says, though he adds he might have wanted more support from Penn had he or his family been directly affected by the fire.

chief of staff and chief communications officer in VPUL, wrote that “generally, in the event of a major natural disaster, Penn staff quickly try to identify students from that state or country. … The student’s school—an academic advisor—does the initial outreach out to students from an area affected by a natural disaster.”

She acknowledged that locating students was “an imperfect science,” and students may not be contacted for a variety of reasons. For instance, if their permanent home address in the university system did not reflect where the student spent their formative years, or they lived with one parent and the other parent was affected, they may be missed. VPUL reiterated that Penn encourages students to share the news with academic advisors or staff as soon as possible.

Meeta Kumar, deputy executive director of CAPS, echoes the sentiment.

Vasant Iyer

According to Penn Today, following Hurricane Irma, Student Intervention Services and the Registrar’s Office worked together to identify affected students and “notified each school to initiate student outreach.”

Student Intervention Services redirected a request for comment to VPUL. In an emailed statement, Monica Yant Kinney, the F E B R U A R Y 2 0 , 2 01 9 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 3

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Emmanuel Suarez Acevedo

“We work very closely with the university’s central resources when any student or any community is impacted by any sudden, stressful, traumatic events in their life … CAPS is part of the first responder team,” she says.

Kumar added that CAPS takes on an active role beyond providing psychotherapy in cases where students need help navigating Penn. “If students are being identified, we will do proactive outreach, as well as just accommodate student needs in a variety of different ways. And we also take on an advocacy role to assisting students, [whether] they need academic support, [or] any other kind of travel or funding assistance.”

As in Emmanuel’s case, students’ financial situations are often impacted by natural disasters, which causes an additional mental health burden. There is a well–documented cyclical relationship between mental health and poverty, with wide-ranging effects, from impaired cognitive abilities to affecting brain development for youth living in poverty.

When a natural disaster occurs, two opportunities arise with respect to financial aid. First, according to SFS Senior University Director of Financial Aid Elaine Papas–Varas, there’s the federal government’s role, as it funds higher education institutions in many different ways, from direct loans to work study. “When there’s natural disasters, the first thing the federal government does is reach out to the schools to say ‘We understand that you are going to have students who may have experienced Hurricane Floyd or an earthquake. And we are here, and we prepared to offer a number of things to make it less stressful.’” This ranges from providing an extension on the FAFSA to processing a Pell grant for someone who normally does not receive one.

Then, within Penn, any student can file a revaluation form to explain their circumstances and request a change in financial aid. The form must be completed for any adjustment to a student’s financial aid, according to Varas, for the students protection. “We want to be sure that we cover all of our bases, and in that way we can cover all the potential expenses.” Varas asserted that this issue was “very important” in staff trainings.

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While Varas declined to comment on Emmanuel’s case specifically, she reiterated that “every students’ circumstances are unique and different” and emphasized the importance of students “[finding] a way to get to this office. We really are here to help.”

talking about the lack of autonomy and agency that Puerto Rico had in taking care of itself, for example,” she says. She adds that after María, the denial of climate change feels even more personal. “It’s not a question of morality, it’s a question of life and death …

And if you deny climate change, that blood is on your hands.”

Syra was stranded in Puerto Rico during Irma while visiting family. She describes Irma as being “a pretty standard hurricane. It was something that I had gone through before.” But, María was different. “I woke up, had a bunch text messages from my mom. She had been narrating for the past couple of hours the storm.

She sent me texts and videos, and all the sudden they just stopped at around 7:30, and I just burst out into tears when I saw that.”

In the following days, while she was moving into her new apartment, “people back home were dying because they were drinking from streams that were contaminated… because they had no other choice… It was a combination of survivor’s guilt with pure agony, grief, that everything I knew didn’t exist anymore as I knew it.”

In the wake of the hurricane, Syra created Las voces de María, a multimedia journalism project created with photographer Cameron Hart, which documents the experiences of survivors recently arrived in Philadelphia.

The project was exhibited at the Kelly Writers House in October 2018.

“The amount of grief, anxiety and uncertainty from natural disasters and related to climate change, is enormous,” Syra says. “I keep interviewing people who have kids who cry every time it rains.”

Emmanuel, like Syra, still lingers on the memory of María, even though many months have passed since the aftershock. In all aspects, his story ended well. His financial aid was increased, his school was notified, and

“There’s so much smoke from the fire that the sun is obscured, and it looks blood red."

— Vasant Iyer, a second year PhD student in Engineering Syra Ortiz–Blanes (C’17) is an alumna from Puerto Rico who writes for The Philadelphia Citizen. In fact, when Maria made landfall, it was Syra’s first day of work. Although Syra had already graduated from Penn, she was still in contact with other Puerto Rican students who were affected. She believes Penn should have offered free tuition to Puerto Rican students, like peer institutions such as Brown did. “Considering Penn’s ties to the Puerto Rican community in Philadelphia and to Puerto Rico, Penn receives so many students from Puerto Rico, and it’s such an active alumni base … Penn as an institution should have taken more responsibility.”

For Syra, natural disasters are also inseparable from politics. “You can’t talk about Maria without talking about Puerto Rico’s political status, you can’t talk about Maria without talking about Puerto Rico’s economic crisis, and you can’t talk about Maria without

he says he managed to get by. He is now a senior, just a few months shy of graduation.

But when the news first came, all he wanted to do was leave. “It felt ridiculous to be here doing things that truly didn’t seem to matter in the grand scheme of things, when my entire family was suffering so much.”

Katrina Janco is a senior studying Communication f rom Audubon, NJ. She is a Features Writer for Street.

Haley Suh contributed reporting.

ST YLE

One Girl, Three Matcha Lattes Street explores the recent craze and tries to make a mean at–home matcha latte.

Karin Hananel A couple of years ago, matcha took over as the new "it" ingredient for any recipe that claimed to have health benefits. Influencers sipped it in tea or lattes on every social media platform, and any celebrity chef or food blogger who mattered snuck it into cookies, ice creams, cakes, and more. Even beauty companies got in on the hype, launching matcha–infused products with labels boasting antioxidants that would give us radiant skin. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was one of the many who bought into the hubbub. Unlike most food and wellness trends that tend to fade after a couple of months (i.e. charcoal in everything or turmeric lattes), matcha has proven itself to be in it for the long haul as a regular menu item in most cafes.

That's because the hype is pretty warranted. There are proven benefits to drinking matcha tea. With matcha, you actually ingest the the whole tea leaf, instead of just steeping the leaves in water through a bag like with most other teas. While scientists haven't been able to prove a causal relationship, most studies done on matcha and green tea have shown a correlation between drinking matcha and good health in terms of cholesterol, blood pressure, healthy weight, and even in the prevention of cancer or diabetes. Another key difference from traditional green tea has to do with caffeine absorption and release. The

caffeine in matcha has a different effect on the body than that of coffee due to it containing L–theanine, an amino acid which, according to dietician Cynthia Sass for Health, “creates an ‘alert calm’ … which induces relaxation without drowsiness.”

Matcha has seeped its way into my daily life as a tired college student in need of a caffeine source that doesn’t bring on the jitters or whale call–like noises from my irritated stomach in the middle of an exam. I also like to think that I can make things better than the places I buy them from, so with a day to kill at home, I set out to try three different matcha latte recipes to find out which is the best.

Since I’m pretty sure adding loads of sugar and milk to matcha cancels out its benefits, I started with a vegan recipe. Most of the ingredients it called for, like coconut milk and maple syrup, were already at my parents’ house, but the only two things that may not be easily accessible are the matcha itself and macadamia milk. I was dually bewildered and excited at the prospect of trying macadamia milk. I thought I’d heard it all (almond, coconut, cashew, pea, oat), but this was a new frontier for alternative milks. After an anti–climactic tasting of macadamia milk (it tasted exactly like almond), I proceeded to make the latte.

Following the recipe carefully, I whisked the

maple syrup, hot water, and matcha together before adding in the warmed coconut/ macadamia milk blend.

At the end, it didn’t look anything like the beautiful emerald green latte on the website—it was more like a watery pea soup. I took one sip and concluded that it was just okay. It was overpowered by the tablespoon of maple syrup the recipe called for and the non–dairy milk just wasn’t doing for me. My mother insisted that for those on a plant–based or non–dairy diet, it was actually pretty good and that she would still drink it as a non–vegan.

I then moved on to a recipe I had never tried before, but was more hopeful

about. No obscure products here, just milk, honey, water, and matcha. This time though, I sifted the matcha, hoping it might give a more robust and blended flavor than before. After only burning the milk a little bit, I combined them all and hoped for the best. This one too, was just kind of okay.

The proportions might have been off, or maybe I didn’t whisk it enough, but the flavor was inconsistent and not as good as I hoped.

The last latte I made was one I knew would be good, not just because I’d had it before, but because, instead of standard matcha, it was a matcha–sugar blend with just the right sweetness.

I put the remaining milk

from the last latte into a cup, mixed the powder in, and enjoyed. It wasn’t too earthy or too sweet, and had a great flavor in general.

After this experience, I’d say that while the third was definitely my favorite, it’s all about preference and proportions. Some lattes taste different than others due to their origins, the level of sweetness, and what kind of milk you use, and sometimes it all comes down to how much of each ingredient you put in. Experiment and see what’s right for you and your tastebuds, and maybe learn something new about yourself in the process, like how macadamia milk is only a little bit of a scam.

Photo by Karin Hananel F E B R U A R Y 2 0 , 2 01 9 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 5

ST YLE

Please Don’t Use Those Plastic Airplane Cups, and Other Green Tips This spring break, we can all do our part to bring sustainability with us wherever we go, in big ways and small.

Emma Harris It’s almost that time of spring semester when we collectively heave a sigh of relief, leave our midterm stress behind, and eagerly rush off to partake in spring break festivities. Whether your plans include traveling to far–off and exotic lands, staying local, or heading home, there is a common price: the price of environmental impact. A 2018 study from the University of Sydney cites global tourism as the source of 8% of our carbon emissions, which is 5% higher than estimates from previous years. Besides the greenhouse gases that are generated by the physical act of travel, emissions stem from shopping, food consumption, and hotels’ large carbon footprints. Unsurprisingly, we can all do our part to make travel, and any element of our modern lives, more sustainable by turning to the old adage “Reduce, reuse recycle”. Read on for ways you can bring your personal responsibility to the environment with you this spring break.

Before even setting off, the location that we choose can determine the impact we will have. According to Martha Honey, executive director of The Center for Responsible Travel, “Overtourism is one of the most critical issues facing the tourism industry today.”

And what is “overtourism,” you might ask? Just think of uncomfortably packed tourist destinations, like cities over-

crowded with tourists (think Barcelona or Venice), or damaged and depleted wildlife due to nonstop human visitors (tropical beaches littered with trash). This is not to say that we shouldn't visit these places—rather a reminder

world and contributing to the global economy, while at the same time many locations are becoming damaged past the point of no return. Moral of the story: choose your travel destination wisely and respect your surroundings.

Protection Agency, aircraft travel accounts for 12% of all U.S. transportation–based greenhouse gas emissions and overall, 3% of total U.S. greenhouse gas emissions.

One standard airplane, say, a Boeing 747, burns about

Isabel Liang | Design Associate

to treat your surroundings with respect and preserve the sights and attractions for both the local residents and future visitors. Overall, mass tourism has proven to be a double–edged sword: more people than ever are seeing the

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Vacation all begins with the "getting there." Whether by plane, train, or automobile, your travel will have a detrimental impact on the earth—some means of travel more so than others. According to the Environmental

one gallon of fuel every four seconds and guzzles about five gallons of fuel per mile. On the other hand, travel by car generates up to 404 grams of CO2 per mile (0.9 pounds per mile). Fuel efficiency varies by car type and model, but

most cars average about 23.6 miles per gallon of gas. All of these statistics tell us that it is best to avoid traveling by airplane, if at all possible, and choose the train instead. The Environmental Protection Agency reports that railroads only contribute 2% to U.S. transportation greenhouse gas emissions, a relatively low amount compared to cars and planes.

Professor Alain F. Plante in the Earth and Environmental Science Department at Penn, wholeheartedly agrees. He stresses that while it is great to minimize our immediate impact by targeting “the small things” (see our last tip!), we can be the most sustainable by looking at the big picture. His first suggestion is to not fly at all, and to find reputable ways to offset greenhouse gas emission. Plante encourages us to keep in mind that in the order of the three R’s, “Reduce comes first.”

Lastly, an immediate and visible way to reduce your impact is to refuse single–use plastic, whether it be in the airport, at a restaurant, or in our hotel room. Start small, by bringing a reusable water bottle with you and go on to challenge yourself to say no to as much single–use plastic as you can. If saying no to plastic is not an option (like, you are really thirsty), reuse it later on! Last option, and this is a no brainer, recycle that jawn post–hydration.

FILM & TV

Dream–Casting the Upcoming 'Wicked' Movie

CALISTA LOPEZ Based on the 1939 classic film The Wizard of Oz, Broadway's 2003 premiere of Wicked–a revisionist tale exploring the origin stories of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, and Glinda, the Good Witch of the South–took the world by storm. The musical has claimed an enviable spot as the second highest grossing Broadway show of all time.

Now, the beloved and wildly popular musical is finally getting the cinematic makeover it deserves. Universal Pictures recently announced its official release date for the Wicked movie adaptation as Dec. 22, 2021, and let’s just say fans are (understandably) excited.

No official casting announcements for the movie have been made, but predictions and dream casts have already flooded the Internet.

Although no one can replace the legendary performances of Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth in the original Broadway production, here are the picks for starring roles that could carry the torch (or should I say broom), as the new members of the ever– growing Wicked family.

Elphaba - Janelle Monáe The infamous role of Elphaba requires a young but experienced singer with a deep vocal range and a powerful stage presence to match–all qualities that Janelle Monáe has and flaunts. The popular singer has released three successful studio albums, with her latest one, Dirty Computer, receiving a Grammy nomination for Album of the Year. She made her film debut in Moonlight, which won the Academy Award for Best Picture,

'Wicked' is flying into theaters in 2021—who will play our favorite witches and wizards?

and starred in Hidden Figures as NASA mathematician and engineer Mary Jackson.

Besides these roles, Monáe hasn't had too much experience in the acting world, but her stunning vocals and acting debuts make Elphaba the perfect breakout role for her.

Glinda - Dove Cameron Cameron has solidified her place as a Disney sensation, starring in Disney Channel's hit show Liv and Maddie and original movie Descendants.

She's also proved her vocal talents by starring as Cher Horowitz in an Off–Broadway production of Clueless: The Musical, and as Sophie Sheridan in a 2017 Hollywood Bowl performance of Mamma Mia! Her performance as Amber Von Tussle in the 2016 TV special Hairspray Live! showcased her ability to play the archetypal "mean, popular girl" needed for Glinda's character. Her high vocal range, combined with the types of roles she's constantly cast in, makes her a great candidate for the role of Glinda, and Kristin Chenoweth agrees.

love interest. If his impressive background doesn't have you convinced, Tveit already has experience playing Fiyero, as he briefly took on the role in 2008–09 on Broadway.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz - Hugh Jackman From starring in box–office hits like Logan and The Prestige to musical adaptations like Les Misérables and The Greatest Showman–Hugh Jackman has the range to pull off a role as complex as the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. The Wizard is a sleazy conman who tricks the people of Oz into thinking otherwise by hiding behind his charming personality and handsome appearance. Besides having the charm and appearance necessary for this role, the Tony–

award winning actor and singer also has the experience and ability to skillfully blend music and theater together to create an unforgettable portrayal of the iconic Wizard

of Oz. In an ideal world, my dream cast would become a reality, but honestly–the promise of a Wicked movie is good enough for me.

Chris Kwok | Illustrator

Fiyero - Aaron Tveit Besides being the most beautiful man I've ever seen, Aaron Tveit is also an incredibly qualified candidate for the role of Fiyero. He's starred in multiple Broadway performances, including Next to Normal and Catch Me If You Can. He played Danny Zuko in the 2016 TV special Grease Live! and had a role in the 2012 film adaptation of Les Misérables. He's shown us that he can sing, act, successfully take part in a Broadway–turned–movie production, and take the lead as both Glinda and Elphaba's F E B R U A R Y 2 0 , 2 01 9 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 17

FILM & TV

Meet the Penn Sophomore Nominated for An Oscar

Claire Sliney on producing the Best Documentary (Short Subject) nominee, 'Period. End of Sentence.'

Zovinar Khrimian In her senior year of high school, a time when most of us were only beginning to dream up what possibilities the future would hold, Claire Sliney (C ‘21), a former beat reporter for The Daily Pennsylvanian, was in the midst of a project that would eventually land her a nomination in the 91st Academy Awards.

For Claire–an executive producer of the documentary short, Period. End of Sentence.– the project was birthed from a commitment to social justice through a high school activism organization she was a part of. The documentary focuses on women in India trying to make menstrual pads more easily accessible.

What started as a fundraising effort for a machine that would help women in the rural village of Kathikera manufacture and sell sanitary pads blossomed into something that would reach far beyond the village.

Period. End of Sentence. came from a commitment to create a positive difference in a community where cultural stigmatization and a lack of resources poses life–altering challenges to young women beginning menstruation.

These issues spurred the movement to raise money for and install a machine that cheaply produced menstrual pads, which would not only provide women with a much–needed product, but would also create a source of income from pad sales. This idea is what moved Claire to co–found The Pad Project–

Ethan Wu | Photographer the non–profit organization that would eventually bring Period. End of Sentence. to fruition–as a means of raising awareness for their cause and the issues that it addresses.

So how exactly do high school students, armed only with a desire to solve a problem facing women on the other side of the globe, turn their spirit of activism into a 26–minute documentary? “It was really a step by step process,” Claire recalls.

“It was a learn–as–you–go, figure–out–as–you–go kind of situation.” Period. End of Sentence. was not initially conceived to be a short that would hit the film festival circuit and eventually acquire an Oscar nomination.

Thanks to the efforts of all those involved, starting with Claire and The Pad Project, what began as a side interest

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became a fully realized documentary short, now available to stream on Netflix.

Claire stresses the tremendous importance of all the people who were adopted into the project, which include a USC graduate, Rayka Zehtabchi, who was brought on as director of the film, and Sam Davis, who served as the cinematographer and editor. Additionally, Claire's mother, Hollywood awards strategist Lisa Taback, produced the film alongside her. Ultimately, the key to the film's success was the connection that the team behind Period. End of Sentence. forged with the community in India, where their efforts were concentrated. This meant teaming up with an NGO called Action India to identify a community that was dealing with issues regarding menstrua-

tion, and where installing a pad producing machine would have a real impact.

The Pad Project put together funding for both the machine and the film, which happened mostly through Kickstarter. Thus, building a relationship with the women of Kathikera ensured that the small production team's presence in the village would be as welcome and as fruitful as possible.

After compiling footage captured from two trips to India, it was clear that The Pad Project had a compelling story on their hands.

Hoping to make it to just one film festival, Claire and her team began submitting the documentary to festivals across the country. “One film festival turned into a number of film festivals,” she says, explaining this snowball effect would

eventually land it on an Oscar shortlist. “We kept on winning and doing these Q&As, and people were so compelled by all that was taking place.” On the day that Academy Award nominations were revealed, Claire and her co–producers got up early to catch the real–time announcement where their film made the cut for Best Documentary Short Subject.

Since the announcement, a project that started as a back–burner idea conceived by a dedicated high school organization has exploded into a tool for mobilizing activism. “We can use Period. End of Sentence. to start the conversation,” Claire notes when reflecting on the project. Evidently, one powerful idea reaching the right people can turn a conversation into something much greater.

FILM & TV

‘Alita: Battle Angel’: Manga–to–Movie Adaptations Continue to Disappoint Shannon Zhang

Iron City needs a champion, not a romance.

Adapting a film from an already–established bank of source material can be either a blessing or a curse. In Alita: Battle Angel’s case, it’s the latter.

Alita tells the story of Alita (Rosa Salazar), a warrior cyborg found nearly demolished in a scrapyard and brought back to life by Dr. Ido (Christoph Waltz). As Alita explores her new home in Iron City, she searches for answers to her forgotten past and falls in love with Hugo (Keean Johnson), a human boy.

Alita: Battle Angel is an adaptation of the manga Gunnm, a nine–volume epic by Yukito Kishiro with two sequel series.

Kishiro has already created a robust world of characters to fuel the Alita narrative that Gunnm fans cultishly love.

Alita tries to be a respectable homage to Gunnm, but ends up as a messy, confusing cess-

pool of storylines with huge potential, but absolutely no development.

Dr. Dyson Ido is the most obvious victim of Alita’s incoherence. Ido is the one who finds Alita and gives her a body to live in. He becomes Alita’s father figure, and pieces of his past and current traumas are revealed throughout the film. Ido’s character is meant to be developed, and he’s meant to impact Alita in some way, but the movie never gives him the chance to grow. Alita herself doesn’t even acknowledge his role in the story. Sure, she finally calls him “father” at the end of the movie, but so what?

What about Alita’s rebellion against Ido as a controlling, imposed father figure who doesn’t let her go out at night?

What about Alita’s refusal to play the role of Ido’s daugh-

ter back–to–life and pursuit of her own hunter–warrior career? Why is all of this forgotten the moment Alita falls in love with Hugo? Because if there’s anything that’s over– developed in Alita, it’s the romance.

Alita and Hugo, cyborg and meat boy. “You are the most human person I’ve ever met,” Hugo says to Alita, right before they kiss. Sweet but unnecessary, Alita becomes a love story. That’s why it was released on Valentine’s Day—something I couldn’t understand until I actually sat through the movie, because it shouldn’t have been a love story. The first hour of Alita is spent on rich worldbuilding, characterizing Iron City with gladiatorial, violent Moterball, dog–eat–dog hunter–warriors, and teenagers rampaging streets at night for

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sellable cyborg parts. Then, the second hour devolves into a haven’t–I–seen–this–before YA romance film. Everything Alita does from the moment she kisses Hugo is for Hugo, and at one point, I couldn’t help but wonder if Alita: Hugo’s Girlfriend might’ve been a more appropriate title for the film.

I’m not condemning romance in sci–fi. Romance can be spun into bustling, cyberpunk worlds like Alita’s

beautifully, but Iron City was not created to be the setting of Alita and Hugo’s love story.

Iron City was created to challenge Alita to rediscover her individuality and hone her survival skills.

It’s not that Hugo didn’t deserve a role in Alita’s story, it’s that his role was much too big. In making Alita a forgettable Valentine’s Day flick, everything it could’ve been now lays buried under mountains of disappointment.

Live music • Film • Dance • Theater Art Education • Community Ars Nova pres. Chris Pitsiokos Unit Feb 19 2019 @ 8:00 PM Admission is FREE Join us for a brain-rattling evening of extreme jazz with the Brooklynbased Chris Pitsiokos Unit. The bracing music of saxophonist and composer Chris Pitsiokos combines the lyricism of jazz and the go-for-broke intensity of extreme rock forms and noise with the attention to detail and abstraction of contemporary classical music.

Ars Nova pres. Brandon Lopez Trio Feb 20 2019 @ 8:00 PM Admission is FREE Join us for a performance by the Brandon Lopez Trio, featuring saxophonist Steve Baczkowski and drummer Gerald Cleaver. Brandon Lopez is a bassist and composer working in the field of far-left musics, with a primary focus on improvisation. Since relocating to New York City not long ago, the Passaic, New Jersey native has become one of the most in-demand players of his generation, sharing the stage with such avant-garde visionaries as William Parker, Nate Wooley, Ingrid Laubrock, and the Sun Ra Arkestra.

A Folksplosion starring Rob Lincoln and Dan Rauchwerk Feb 22 2019 @ 8:00 PM Tickets are $15 & can be purchased at https://folksplosion.brownpapertickets.com Five Minute Follies presents a Folksplosion starring Rob Lincoln and Dan Rauchwerk. Rob Lincoln is a prolific singer-songwriter from the Philadelphia area, best known for his multitude of songs that range in styles from finger-picking folk to garage rock.

Call for Artists!

When I Am The Princess Planning Meeting Feb 24 2019 @ 2:00 PM A West Philly Community Arts Project We are offering ALL artists the opportunity to read, sing, perform, dance, show and/or exhibit at The Rotunda on Saturday MARCH 9th at 8:00PM. This project is open to E V E R Y O N E. This will be a groupcurated event. If you are interested, please attend the meeting on Feb. 24. The objective is to stir up the subconscious and think about how we are being programmed by concepts like The Princess, which is probably the most effective icon in manipulating people.

37th & Spruce • 215-222-7713 The Perelman Center @ Penn Med • 215-386-1350 www.kitchengia.com

As an alcohol-free/smoke-free venue, The Rotunda provides an invaluable social alternative for all ages.

4014 Walnut • TheRotunda.org F E B R U A R Y 2 0 , 2 01 9 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 9

FILM & TV

Marvel, DC, and the Superhero Movie Problem The highs and lows of the superhero genre, and how it might be changing.

ANNA COLLINS

For the past decade, the age–old question that haunts blockbuster moviegoers is, “Marvel or DC?" The entertainment companies have been in staunch competition since they were both founded in the 1930s, but wasn’t until the mid–2000s that comics had a revival through the ever–changing film industry.

With this, however, the artistry and creativity of the comics themselves were lost in translation. The superhero film, now solidified as a genre, has deteriorated its source material.

Much of the issue begins in the studios’ desire to produce too many films with little care for quality. Marvel

has produced 20 films in its cinematic universe since 2008, and DC, in a valiant attempt to catch up, has 12 slated through 2021. It makes sense for DC to plan multiple movies at once to ride the wave of fame that superheroes are receiving, yet the time and energy put into these films decreases with each new announcement. Both studios, likely aware of their competition, are struggling in a rat race with no end in sight.

The problem of excessive production is reflected in the number of times actors have been replaced in a single role.

Modern audiences have seen three separate actors play Spi-

Saranya Sampath | Illustrator

derman within ten years and two separate actors play Batman in the past six years. The franchises run through actors at an unsustainable rate. Why should we commit to these characters if the actors won't?

Signs of overproduction can also be seen in the fact that the films have no real individuality.

Cutting between two modern DC movies and two Marvel movies shows almost no difference. The editing style, sound effects, music, and cinematography have no artistry in them.

It doesn't matter that these films have a homogeneous, unspecified style because they are still making so much money at the box office. Avengers:

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Infinity War has the highest first–weekend box office of all time.

If the films are attempting to create intense and colorful action sequences, then they've hit the mark. But if they're attempting to pay homage to the original characters, then, unfortunately, they've fallen short. The issue is not just that all superhero films read the same—it is that the style loses sight of the comic books.

Comics are pieces of artwork at their best, complete with beautiful illustrations and careful dialogue, like in the acclaimed Batman story, "The Killing Joke." The movies flatten the complexity of the characters with cheap sound effects, saturated style, and repetitive cinematography.

The problem lies beyond the quantity versus quality problem—it's also in the choice of directors. The best directors leave a mark on their films, making them feel distinct and poignant. One can spot a Wes Anderson film from a mile away, but most of the productions of Marvel and DC have a uniform feeling—from the editing to the cinematography or the sound effects. There is no longer artistry, no longer precision in how these movies are made.

However, this may begin to change. The past two years have seen a relative uptick in how people view Marvel and DC films. Thor: Ragnarok, directed by Taika Waititi, was

met with an impressive 92% Rotten Tomatoes rating from critics and 87% from audiences. Black Panther is the first superhero film to ever garner an Oscar nomination for Best Picture, indicating both critical and audience acclaim that Marvel’s films have never reached before.

Why are these films so much better than previous superhero films? It all comes down to their directors. Waititi is an established filmmaker with a distinct style, seen in pieces such as What We Do In the Shadows and Hunt for the Wilderpeople, and Black Panther’s Ryan Coogler had previously helmed the critically beloved Creed. It is these directors— who have a vision and passion, directors who leave marks on their movies—that can make the superhero film unique and passionate. DC, on the other hand, has achieved the peak artistry of the superhero movie in the Dark Knight trilogy directed by Oscar–nominated Christopher Nolan. However, in its attempt to imitate Marvel's fame, DC has lost its grasp on the unique directorial interpretation of popular characters, resulting in its recent films falling from grace.

Maybe the superhero film genre is looking up. While the currently slated sequels will likely be much of the same— the Russo brothers of Marvel, who have helmed much of the Captain America series, are directing the upcoming Avengers: Endgame—there is opportunity for new directors with a vision to create these movies and make them distinct. Coogler is already slated to direct Black Panther’s sequel and Waititi has been in discussions for another Thor.

However, these two filmmakers should encourage Marvel and DC to change how they view film—to allow passionate directors to take charge and to make the superhero genre artful again.

ARTS

Samantha Friskey, Penn Plays Fellowship Winner, Talks First Performance of 'Rabbit' Penn Plays Fellowship recipient Samantha Friskey addresses the impact of gun vioRabbit opens with a monologue by protagonist Morgan, remembering her challenge to fate as a child—“…God, if you’re going to kill me, kill me … But before you do, you have to give me warning …

No—if you’re going to kill me, send me a sign. An omen.

Send a rabbit and a raven to my front lawn at the same time one morning, and then I’ll know.”

As a young girl, after losing her friend to appendicitis, Rabbit writer Samantha Friskey (C '20), too, dared to confront God—“I told him, ‘you can only kill me if you send me a sign.’” Though the similarities between Samantha's own life and Rabbit’s plot end here, her treatment of love and loss clearly has roots in a nuanced understanding of tragedy and hope.

Rabbit follows parents Morgan and Ian as they cope with the loss of one of their twin daughters to gun violence, during a school shooting.

The one–act production cuts back and forth in time—the audience watches Morgan’s pregnancy, Ian driving their children to school, and Morgan and Ian finding out their daughter has died.

In speaking of her choice to have Rabbit unfold non– chronologically, Samantha says, “If you put a funny moment right next to a horrible moment, it’s easier to see what you’ve lost.”

Samantha began writing plays at the start of her freshman year in college, and has been honing her practice ever since. As the recipient of the Penn Plays Fellowship,

Samantha developed Rabbit over the course of roughly a semester. Each year, the Kelly Writer’s House and Penn’s Theatre Arts Program cosponsor a Playwriting Fellowship to which students submit their work at the start of the fall semester. Samantha was announced as this year’s winner in November.

The first public reading of the piece was held as a workshop read–through at the Kelly Writer’s House in early December. Between December and February, Samantha refined her piece, working closely with Playwriting Mentor & Dramaturg Jacqueline Goldfinger, Director David O’Connor, and actors/fellow Penn students Bella Essex (C '19) and Elias Kotsis (C '19).

Samantha describes the rehearsal process as crucial, and notes that hearing her words spoken aloud permitted her to successfully imbue tragedy with moments of humor and relief.

In discussing the structure of Rabbit, Samantha emphasizes the importance of “pairing” to the play’s structure— Morgan and Ian, their twin daughters, past and present.

Samantha says, “When you have a play about partnerships you can have a play about absences, and what happens when one person is missing.

In the opening monologue, Morgan sets this up by saying, ‘when I was a child I thought doom was signalled by an uncommon pairing, by a rabbit and a raven.’ In reality, the biggest disaster for her is when the pairing of her two daughters is separated. That’s

why the play is called Rabbit, and continues on. “If you and not A Rabbit and Raven." ever get scared, wherever you Samantha's keen understandare, whatever’s happening, I ing of relationships and conwant you to squeeze this little nection gives Rabbit life and rabbit … And when you’re makes Morgan and Ian’s loss scared, and when you squeeze feel all the more real. it, know that I’m squeezing Rabbit closes with a moyou right back. And that ment from Morgan and Ian’s past, a moment in which both of their daughters are still alive. Morgan stands onstage, facing the audience that sits in the place of her daughters.

Morgan says, “I used to be afraid of rabbits. Silly, I know.

But—but other people, other people like you, Fiona, like you, Emma—a lot of people love rabbits … for luck, they’d carry around rabbit feet, and I admit girls, I was tempted to partake, but giving you detached animal appendages seemed a little morbid, so I—I modified.”

Photo Courtesy of Samantha Friskey

Jess Araten I’ll give you the biggest hug of your life—because your mother loves you more than you can ever imagine.”

Samantha leaves her audience with a poignant moment of love there and gone, with a bleeding of past into present.

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ARTS

'The Complicit Eye': Kukuli Velarde's Deconstruction Of Beauty In Western Culture Velarde's artwork explores the dichotomy in modern beauty between fitting in and standing out.

Katie Farrell Emma Boey | Photo Editor

Four overhanging lights cast a semi-lit glow within the Taller Puertorriqueño conference room. Housed in the back left corner of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, the room's worn and stained carpet gives away its age. In the front of the room sits Kukuli Velarde, about to present on her latest exhibition, The Complicit Eye. The Peruvian artist wears a colorful skirt, to match her quick sense of clever humor.

Velarde is unapologetically human, she is a clever composite of all the things I am looking for when entering a museum: honest, firm, and brilliant.

The museum curator begins by asking Velarde about her clothing, to which she replies: “the only American thing I am wearing is my glasses, and it is to fit in with all of you.” I immediately understand her anticipated anxiety of entering a foreign space, particularly spaces such as these — purposefully curated to provoke and inspire. Even

when I am I know it is a place I love, like libraries or museums, I am filled with double-checking and secondguessing: should I just wear all black?

She points out that this fear is most pronounced when journeying to museums and college campuses, where the all-too-well-known crave to belong, or at least not stand out, is at its strongest. Yet her art does exactly the opposite. Her newest exhibition, The Complicit Eye, is a retrospective painting series representative of the past fourteen years of her life. All the pieces embody some form of self portrait, which include paintings of herself as a pin-up girl, a grieving Virgin and Pieta figure, and a saint, swollen with pregnancy. Most of the paintings are naked, exposing her to the incisive and introspective public eye. Through the subject's unrelenting vulnerability, the audience is forced to reflect upon their own discomfort, as if it were us and not her

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who was stark naked.

Half-way through the lecture, Velarde discusses the piece: “Daddy Likee?” The portrait, painted in vibrant jewel toned red, gold, and blue on Amazonian tree bark, displays an undressed woman of archetypal female posing: left hand on hip, right hand supporting her head. Though her posture conforms to Western art history standards, her lips are curved in a smug smile that, to me, suggests hidden rage. The spark in her eye speaks of a defiance that no traditional expectation can constrain. While describing the intent behind the piece, Velarde says, “I am whitening my skin, trying to be you, but I cannot." Her words and is a testament to the internal turmoil of one who is pressured to fit in, yet at the same time cannot and will not.

When returning to this piece in the exhibit afterwards, I am confronted with Velarde’s uncomfortable questions: what does it mean to be a woman in a

patriarchal society? How am I reduced and flattened into an all-purpose-noun that is both vividly and implicitly archetypal? How do my own notions of what it means ‘to be a woman’ further the mold I want to reject?

The second painting that catches my complicit eye is the mural-in-progress: “Vitruviana and Vitruvianita”.

Despite being in its beginning stages, it is the centerpiece of Velarde's exhibition.

Once again, Western art standards are set up as the outer scaffolding of a piece whose purpose is to tear it down. One of the panels of the murals shows Velarde in Leonardo da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” pose, her arms outstretched and feet planted downwards. Her disfigured body is merged with a chaotic background of formless shapes: scalloped patterns circling her torso and curlicue designs floating above her head. Next to her stands her young daughter.

This mural, though still unfinished, is painful to bear. I always understood da Vinci’s drawing to communicate masculine perfection, with the circles and squares overlaying the male body to serve as scientific quantifiers of such ideals. Now, Velarde places the female body against the same geometrical benchmark. What does it mean for the worth of female bodies to be quantifiably measured? What does it mean to fit inside the shapes? Or to fall outside them?

It’s a question I often ask myself. How many parts of

me ‘fit’ into the ideal mold?

How many parts do not? And then, the more consuming question: how can I fit into it more? As my eyes travel left, I land on Velarde’s daughter.

I think of my future daughter: the first time she questions if she belongs and the first time she wants to spend her youthful savings on makeup and the ‘right’ things to wear. The times she will only see the parts of her appearance she wants to fix, when the only broken thing are the images of female perfection served on the silver platter of magazine covers and social media campaigns.

I think, also, of my two younger sisters and how much I wish that these questions do not impose themselves into their thoughts. I wonder if they are fated to it. This, I think, is the next question Velarde seeks to dig out of me: how complicit am I in maintaining these gendered standards that I hate so thoroughly?

From her lectures and her technique, I believe that is the inquiry that Velarde wants me to leave with. After discussing at length the desire to fit into prescribed beauty standards, its root causes, and its consequences, I'm left to consider my own 'eye's' role.

Perhaps instead of turning my gaze outward, I should look inward. Easier said than done. Yet, these thoughts pull me back to the qualities that drew me to Velarde in the first place. In order to fight back against my doubts, I must begin to be like Velarde: honest, firm, and brilliant.

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