The Georgetown Voice, January 17, 2018 by The Georgetown Voice

VOICE The Georgetown

Examining the Fanbase of Georgetown Football

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Mumbo Sauce: The taste of Washington

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January 17, 2018

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE Volume 50 • Issue 9

staff editor-in-chief Alex Boyd Managing editor JAKE MAHER news

executive editor lilah burke Features editor ALEX LEWONTIN assistant features editor EMILY JASTER news editor MARGaRET gach assistant news editors noah telerski, katya schwenk

culture

executive editor mike bergin Leisure editor Amy GUAY assistant leisure editors brynn furey, Mary Mei, Xavier Ruffin Sports editor jorge deneve Assistant sports editor Santul Nerkar, Aaron Wolf

“MUMBO No. 5” by EGAN BARNITT

opinion

contents Editorials Finding Blessings in Folded Napkins Nick Gavio “No, I Don’t Know Putin” Lizz Pankova Marooned William Hockaday The Saturday Crowd: Examing the fan base of Georgetown football Jon Block Mumbo Sauce: The taste of Washington Alex Lewontin Residents Criticize Dockless Bike-share Program Michael Coyne

4 5 6 7 8-9 10-11 12

Charlie Visconage’s Cool Guy Alert!: Cartoon Politics, Colorful Pop Stars, and Other Cool Guy Things Brynn Furey

Gorgeous and Gothic, Phantom Thread Probes the Dark Edges of Love Amy Guay

Critical Voices: Wrong Creatures and Camila Anne Paglia and Ryan Mazalatis

The opinions expressed in The Georgetown Voice do not necessarily represent the views of the administration, faculty or students of Georgetown University, unless specifically stated. Columns, advertisements, cartoons and opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board or the General Board of The Georgetown Voice. The university subscribes to the principle of responsible freedom of expression of its student editors. All materials copyright The Georgeton Voice, unless otherwise indicated.

editor@georgetownvoice.com Leavey 424 Box 571066 Georgetown University Washington, DC 20057

Executive editor CHRIS DUNN voices editor SIENNA BRANCATO Assistant Voices editors Lizz Pankova, Julia Pinney Editorial Board jon block, Nick Gavio, Alli Kaufman, Caitlin Mannering, GRAHAM PIRO, Isaiah seibert, PHillip Steuber, Jack Townsend

halftime

Leisure editor Claire goldberg assistant leisure editors Dajour Evans, Rachel Lock, Eman Rahman Sports editor Beth Cunniff Assistant sports editor Teddy Carey, Jake Gilstrap, Tristan Lee

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Executive editor Jack Townsend Spread editor Jake Glass Photo Editor Rachel Zeide cover Editor aicha nzie assistant design editors Delaney Corcoran, Margaux Fontaine, Egan Barnitt, Lindsay Reilly Staff designers Matt Buckwald, Rachel Corbally, Alexandra Falkner, Samantha Lee, Sarah Martin, Janis Park, Max Thomas

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copy chief audrey bischoff assistant Copy editors Cade Shore, Hannah Song editors Mya Allen, Leanne Almeida, Mica Bernhard, Brendan Clark, Kate Clark, Nancy Garrett, Caroline Geithner, Isabel Paret, Madison Scully, Maya Tenzer, Neha Wasil

online

website editor Anne Freeman Podcast editor Gustav Honl-Stuenkel assistant podcast editor Parker houston social media editor isaiah seibert MULTIMEDIA editor DANIELLE HEWITT

business

general manager naiara parker assistant manager of alumni outreach anna gloor assistant manager of accounts & sales karis hawkins

support

contributing editors Cassidy Jensen, Kaei Li, Graham Piro, Rebecca Zaritsky associate editors Jonny Amon, Emma Francois, Nicholas Gavio, Allison Kaufman, Isabel Lord, Caitlin Mannering, Devon O’Dwyer

Staff writers

Umar asif, MOnica Cho, Rachel Cohen, Annie Coyne, Damien Garcia, jayan hanson, tristan lee, Brynne Long, Shadia Milon, Brice russo, Will Shanahan, cam smith

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Read & Listen on georgetownvoice.com PODCASTS

Defenders United

In Defenders United Episode 2, attorney William Snowden from Orleans Public Defenders discusses diversity in law school, Louisiana’s habitual offender statute, his non-profit The Juror Project, and Professor Paul Butler’s radical 1995 law review article “Racially Based Jury Nullification: Black Power in the Criminal Justice System.”

SPORTS Falling Back: Women’s Basketball Drops Fourth Straight After 0-2 Weekend Sports editor Jorge DeNeve recaps the Georgetown women’s basketball team’s losses to conference rivals St. John’s and Seton Hall. Read more to find out who led the Hoya scorers and what the losses mean for the rest of conference play.

HALFTIME 10 Amazing Movies You Missed in 2017 Halftime leisure editor Claire Goldberg and Halftime leisure assistant editor Eman Rahman spotlight last year’s most worthwhile but underappreciated movies. Be sure not to miss these must-see films, ranging from biography to horror.

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JANUARY 17, 2018

EDITORIALS

Georgetown Must Recognize Graduate Student Union Last month, Georgetown University declined to voluntarily recognize the Georgetown Alliance of Graduate Employees (GAGE), a graduate student workers union. Over 50 percent of graduate student workers, or graduate students who work for the university, sometimes as a necessary part of their degree program, signed documents of support to create the formal union. However, Provost Robert Groves and Edward B. Healton, executive vice president for health science, wrote a letter to GAGE explaining that the university views graduate student workers fundamentally as students, rather than employees. This editorial board urges the university to recognize GAGE. Graduate student workers are employees as well as students, and the university must recognize them as such in all labor issues, including the right to unionize. Many serve as teaching assistants for undergraduate classes or research assistants in laboratories in addition to a full slate of course work. Because many graduate students are required to work extensive hours for the university, Georgetown must recognize GAGE as a union of university employees. Refusing to recognize GAGE overlooks the university’s 2005 Just Employment Policy (JEP) and ignores federal law. The JEP requires the university to allow for employee unions: “[T]he University will respect the rights of employees to vote for or against union representation without intimidation, unjust pressure, undue delay or hindrance in accordance with applicable law.” By downplaying graduate student workers’ contributions to the university, Georgetown impedes the very right the JEP is designed to protect. Groves and Healton’s letter states that the university does not believe the JEP applies to graduate student workers. The JEP itself does not mention this exception. University policy aside, the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), a federal agency that oversees labor unionization, ruled in 2016 that graduate student workers

from private universities have the right to unionize. In its decision, the board directly addressed the argument that graduate student workers have a primarily educational relationship with their universities. Responding to a petition from Columbia University graduate student workers, the board ruled that graduate students can also be employees if they provide and are compensated for work by a university. Last week, Groves and Healton sent an update email to the Georgetown community explaining that the university is considering a proposal from GAGE for a union election run by a neutral third party, rather than the NLRB. This would be a positive step, but it is far from enough. GAGE should be able to make decisions on conducting an election based only on what is best for the union, not the university. Administrators continue to cling to the exploitative logic that refuses to admit graduate student workers are employees, despite the NLRB’s clear ruling. To defend this neglect of federal law, the update email argues that the NLRB has vacillated on their decision in the past. “Sometimes the NLRB has held that graduate students are primarily students and therefore not eligible to form unions under the National Labor Relations Act,” Groves and Healton wrote. “At other times, including currently, the NLRB has held that graduate students are considered employees who are eligible to unionize.” The implication that current law is less binding because of past decisions that have been overturned is both laughable and dangerous. Neither past nor potential future changes lessen the duty to follow the law. And even without the legal imperative, there is still a moral obligation to recognize the rights of those who work for and benefit our community. GAGE has already made a positive impact on campus, even without university recognition. The union offers support for international graduate workers, works to increase job opportunities, and promotes events geared toward

raising marginalized and underrepresented workers’ voices. Graduate student workers’ contributions to the wider Georgetown community cannot be overstated. Nearly every undergraduate student learns from graduate teaching assistants. Teaching and research assistants also provide crucial support to professors and administrators. Everyone benefits by attracting the best and brightest graduate student workers to campus. Discouraging capable potential Hoyas and disempowering current workers by denying their right to bargain collectively on their own behalves hurts us all. It has been encouraging to witness advocates for GAGE from many corners of campus life, including a unanimous resolution of support from the history department. Hoyas should continue to defend their peers. Graduate student workers are under constant threat. In November, the Republican tax plan threatened to include graduate student aid money as taxable income. Graduate student workers also often receive stipends far below a living wage. The Georgetown Graduate School of Arts and Sciences offers $28,000 stipends for student workers to live in Washington, one of the most expensive cities in the country. Meanwhile, Georgetown’s health care offering for graduate students through United Healthcare includes outof-pocket maximums of up to $6,350 per year. International graduate students are particularly at risk because they do not have access to federal loans or spousal and child benefits. It is time for the university to abide by its own policy and the NLRB decision. If Georgetown hopes to stay true to the spirit of men and women for others, it must treat all of its workers with dignity and respect and recognize their lawful right to fight to improve their conditions. Graduate student workers alone have the right to choose whether or not to unionize, and they have made their decision. GAGE has and will change campus for the better.

Trump’s El Salvador Decision Advances Inhumane Trend The Trump administration announced last week that it would end the government’s protections that have allowed certain Salvadorans to live in the United States without fear of deportation. These protections, created by the second Bush administration, allowed the U.S. to admit some 200,000 Salvadorans under the Department of Homeland Security’s Temporary Protected Status (TPS) program in the wake of devastating earthquakes in El Salvador in 2001. There are 32,000 of these TPS-protected Salvadorans who live in the greater Washington, D.C. area. They are valued members of the Washington. and Georgetown communities who have created new lives for themselves in this country. They have lived here for 17 years, started families, found jobs, and now potentially face deportation. The Trump administration has also moved to end protections for about 60,000 Haitians and 5,300 Nicaraguans who came to this country following natural disasters in 2010 and 1999, respectively. This editorial board believes that ending these protections is inhumane. The government should instead extend protections and take steps to ensure immigrants’ security. We echo our previous call for comprehensive

immigration reform to solidify temporary immigration policies into law. The TPS program allows people to live legally in the U.S. after their home countries experience violence, natural disaster, or other circumstances that warrant special protections. But the program is temporary. Once the danger in a particular country has abated, the program is supposed to end, and those who were admitted have two options: return home or apply for a green card. TPS-protected Salvadorans, Haitians, and Nicaraguans have contributed to the American workforce for years, even decades. Young adults who were brought to this country as babies or toddlers by parents desperate to ensure their safety have lived the vast majority of their lives here. And now the Trump administration expects them to return to their countries of origin. This is cruelty, plain and simple. It signals that this country is not willing to extend a hand to those in need and that the U.S. is not interested in the wellbeing of those from outside its borders. The TPS program offered refuge for people fleeing unlivable conditions. Although the devastation from the original disasters may have eased, TPS protections may

still be warranted. The CIA World Factbook identifies El Salvador as the country with the world’s highest murder rate. It would be inhumane to force people back into potentially violent conditions. To truly improve our immigration system, this country needs mechanisms that allow people who have made their homes here to stay legally, regardless of the executive’s vacillating political whims. The TPS program, which requires that the government periodically renew protections, leaves those protected in a state of perpetual uncertainty. Revoking TPS protections may not impact as many people as revoking Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. Still, in those affected, we see people like our friends, our peers, and the broader Georgetown community. We condemn this administration’s decision because it makes us fear for our friends, and in a larger sense, for our values. The Trump administration is disregarding these people’s lives for the sake of scoring political points. The aftermath of removing TPS status will be felt by hundreds of thousands of people who have made their lives in this country, and we will feel its effects for years and decades to come.

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

CARRYING ON: VOICE STAFFERS SPEAK

As my parents and I drove home from visiting my grandmother at the senior care facility over Thanksgiving break, I felt demoralized. We spent 30 minutes with her, and she hadn’t said one word. My grandmother, who I call Grandmom, has Alzheimer’s disease—a type of dementia that causes memory loss and damage to thinking capabilities, like the abilities to process information and converse. My family first saw the signs of her worsening health about eight years ago, and since Alzheimer’s is a progressive disorder, we’ve witnessed her health slowly deteriorate over time. The effects started small, like less frequent checkin calls or misplaced items around her house. Her health gradually declined, and it became increasingly difficult for my grandfather to take care of her on his own. As a result, about three years ago, my family decided to move her to the assisted living facility. Both of my parents worked full-time when I was younger, so my grandparents took on a pretty large role in caring for me. If I was ever sick, I looked forward to them visiting me, hands full with jars of chicken noodle soup. After they left, my grandmom would call multiple times throughout the day to make sure I was doing all right. I could reminisce about similar small memories forever. I have trouble putting into words how much my grandmom has changed since those days. Her health has deteriorated so greatly that she barely talks anymore. If no one holds her hand and leads her to walk somewhere else, she would sit in the same place all day. She needs help eating, showering, and using the restroom. One of her favorite things to do is folding paper napkins into triangular shapes, which she does for hours at a time. As I have grown older and started thinking more critically about my grandmom and her health situation, I’ve been unable to answer some of the most burdensome questions that still drift through my mind. How do I balance the blessing of still being able to visit her with the sadness caused by her diminished health? I know and understand how truly lucky I am to still have the ability to visit my grandmom and spend time with her, but as her Alzheimer’s continues to

affect her ability to speak and interact with others, visits have become much more difficult. It was notably hard during that visit over Thanksgiving break, after my parents, siblings, and I brushed the dust off of my dad’s camcorder so we could watch old home videos for the first time in years. One of the videos we watched was from an early birthday of mine, when I was around seven or eight years old. While it only showed my grandmom lighting the candles on the cake and briefly caught her in casual discussion with others, it was still striking to see how different she was back then. Seeing my grandmom in such different health and being reminded of her old personality, even in such a small way, was both encouraging and devastating. I have realized that it’s necessary to separate the past from the present and memories from current experiences. In any situation, it isn’t fair or realistic to expect things to remain unchanged over 10 years or more. That’s especially true with my grandmom. I always long to return to the past, but that isn’t going to happen. And as I’ve thought more about these questions, I recognize that it’s possible to be grateful for the old memories while not allowing them to inflate expectations in the present day. Recently, I’ve tried to appreciate the smaller things that still exist in my relationship with my grandmom. Some people who have Alzheimer’s get angry and combative as their recollections of any

VOICES

Finding Blessings in Folded Napkins

habits or past experiences worsen, but my grandmom has remained cheerful and upbeat. Whenever I sit next to her, she reflexively grabs my hand and will hold it until I let go. Somehow, even though she barely speaks in conversation, she sings every word of old Frank Sinatra songs almost perfectly on beat and in tune. Sometimes, she starts chuckling for no reason and literally cannot stop. It’s these kinds of interactions that compose the blessings within our current relationship. One of the most heartening moments with my grandmom happened at our family Christmas celebration two years ago. She and my grandfather were preparing to leave, and my entire extended family was saying goodbye. At this point, her health was bad enough that she very rarely spoke in complete sentences. As they were walking towards the door, she turned around and said, unprompted, “I love everybody in this place!” It was both funny and reassuring, providing a priceless ray of wistful sunlight to an overall dim situation. I know based on her current health that another moment like this will likely never happen again. But adjusting to difficult times is all about modifying expectations to account for changes in the present. When my grandmom was leaving our house this Christmas, she handed me a wrinkled napkin, folded into an almost-perfect triangle. Blessings come in all shapes and sizes, right?

Nick Gavio is a junior international politics major in the SFS. He was the podcast editor of the Voice, and participated in the club No Lost Generation.

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JANUARY 17, 2018

VOICES

“No, I Don’t Know Putin”

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Listen to the accompanying podcast, Fresh Voices, on georgetownvoice.com When I was in the fifth grade, Jake, the boy who sat in front of me in math class, turned around randomly and asked me, “Do you know Putin?” Without awaiting my response, he answered: “He started the Cold War,” (accompanied by exaggerated shivering). At age 10, I had little awareness of the Cold War, Vladimir Putin, or any tensions between the two countries that define my identity, and the comment brought a lot more amusement to my parents than to me. Ten years later, Putin has remained an active figure in the Russian government and has become even more of an active figure in my social life. Rarely does a week pass without seeing at least a dozen inflammatory articles featuring his name, and rarely does his name remain unspoken in my first encounters with other people. However, joking references to vodka, an affinity for cold weather, bears, and more recently, President Trump, are equally common, if not more so, than references to Putin himself. When I was younger, like many children of immigrants, I revealed little of my Russian-ness to those around me. I was reluctant to explain to my friends that I got presents on New Year’s from Ded Moroz instead of on Christmas from Santa and was embarrassed by the borschts and pilafs that I ate for lunch, envious of my friends’ Lunchables and Scooby-Doo gummies. It’s not that I was ashamed of my nationality—I just didn’t feel like that part of my identity was worth emphasizing or sharing. As I got older, I became more attached to my heritage, more open about it, and consequently more annoyed by stereotype-inspired comments. I became more conscious of their underlying context as I learned both the Russian and American Cold War narratives. A girl in high school said to me that Russia was “basically a third-world country,” and I was insult-to-my-family-name levels of offended. Of course, almost everyone with a cultural or ethnic background that deviates from the “I’m 1/16 every European country” norm has experienced similar unsolicited comments, inaccurate assumptions, and annoying jokes.

However, in the past decade, the general norm has started to change. “Diversity” has become a magic word, devoid of a concrete definition but nevertheless desired. Elite colleges and businesses alike tirelessly try to attract unique and underrepresented individuals. Despite recent examples of the opposite in our current government, America has made great progress in accepting and celebrating what was once unanimously considered the “other”—the legalization of gay marriage and increased representation of people of color attest to this. And yet, attitudes towards Russia and Russian people have followed an opposite trend. “Russia” has become, now more than ever, a dirty word both in the press and in the minds of Americans. “Become” is probably the wrong word, since the animosity between these two nations originated long before the Trump-Putin memes of 2017. But at the same time, tensions are higher than they have ever been since the end of the Cold War, translating directly into hostility on a cultural and social level. Headlines like “Trump’s Bromance with Putin is History,” which seem like they belong in The Onion, are normal and common in established publications. Movies as different as The Muppets Most Wanted and A Good Day to Die Hard show that unapologetically nefarious Russian villains are still welcome in every genre, even though characterizing story villains by their ethnicity is generally viewed as prejudiced and wrong. When James Clapper, the former director of national intelligence, explicitly revealed his prejudice, stating that Russian people are “genetically driven to co-opt, penetrate, and gain favor,” no one blinked an eye, despite the quote’s appearance in numerous news outlets. We all strive for social success and belonging, and for people with multicultural, multiethnic backgrounds, this often includes making a certain sacrifice: assimilation in exchange for relating more to your friends’ interests. In the American “melting pot,” this sacrifice could potentially be smaller, as people in this heterogeneous country can share

their cultures with one another. But what happens to cultural exchange when your country of origin immediately conjures up negative associations? When I watched Coco, a new animated film about the Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico, what amazed me most was how well it integrated elements of Mexican culture, humor, and language into an American movie. Clearly, a cartoon about Mexican culture does not signify the disappearance of the very real prejudice, violence, and intolerance that Mexican Americans and other cultural communities still face. Nevertheless, it does demonstrate an effort towards mainstream understanding, a sentiment that I wish applied to Russia. Just like the United States, Russia is a country with a rich cultural, political, and intellectual history–it’s more than Trump’s “secret birthplace.” As we strive to eradicate prejudice and cultivate respectful, curious, and impartial exploration of other cultures, we must remember the importance of these efforts with regards to countries we might initially view as adversaries. Ironically, in the age of information and interconnectedness, we sometimes desperately lack the understanding and empathy that we have the potential to access. Today, I often feel anxious about the state of U.S.-Russia relations, and while I have no power over that, I can foster communication and cultural exchange in my own community. I hope that Jake from fifth grade, and all those like him, will somehow stumble upon this and give it a read.

Lizz Pankova is an assistant Voices editor and a sophomore in the College who enjoys existentialist memes.

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

VOICES

Marooned “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet.” - Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet Would it, though? A name holds a history, a story, a moment. Names are lived. Everyday, my family name, “Hockaday,” reminds me of how my Black ancestors were ripped from their homes and left only with a name, not even their own. I remember when my Korean grandmother, who I call my “Harmony,” gave me the name “Sung-ee” after the Korean word for castle. Then, confusion imprisoned me in the castle’s deep, dark dungeon, and I’m still lost in that abyss. Confusion became my chronic affliction, tearing me between my names, my cultures, my roots. My names are a reminder of the intersecting paths from which my life began, from narratives of life in Korea under Japanese occupation to Tuskegee Airmen, but these stories don’t match my White-passing appearance. Navigating Georgetown as a multiracial student, I’m left floating adrift; navigating life as a Black, Yellow, and White kid, I feel Marooned. Walking around at CAB Fair my first semester, I found amazing clubs to represent me as a Black or Korean student, but nothing that represented me as a Black, Korean, and White student. I ended up joining various cultural clubs and taking classes to learn about my identities, but I still struggled to figure out where I fit in. Growing up with the murder of Black people omnipresent on my TV, it seemed wrong to call myself Black when my skin color afforded me so much privilege. And could I even call myself Korean when the language that is so essential to the culture stumbled out of my mouth? Through it all, I knew I wasn’t White, because no White kid grows up with a new racial epithet thrown in their face every week. Existing between all these worlds, I remained completely, utterly, deeply confused. As the first semester progressed, I slowly found more and more students just as lost as I was. I wasn’t alone in this struggle; there were countless students trying to navigate the seas of questions, uncertainties, and insecurities that pervade our everyday lives. A group of us came together, and we formed Spectrum, a new multiracial and multiethnic club.

William Hockaday is a sophomore African-American studies and English double major. He is currently president of Spectrum.

Through our events, I found a space to figure out not only where my existence lies, but also where others live and breathe in their own in-between worlds. Conversations with new and returning voices were pivotal in helping me to understand who I am. Spectrum became the community I needed so badly during my first semester at Georgetown. Truth be told, it’s the community I still need. “Sho’nuff: Alright, Leroy, who’s the one and only master? Bruce Leroy: I am.” - The Last Dragon Others may try to describe my identity, they may try to change my identity for their convenience, they may try to recount my narrative to me, they may try a lot, but they’re just trying. The communities, the friends, and the love I found at Georgetown taught me that I’m my own master, and I’m writing the chapters of my life. I grew up with the aroma of Bulgogi dancing around my nose and drawing me to the kitchen. Hangul popped up on the TV during Korean shows, and laughter filled that house when my Harmony translated the jokes to my sister and me. Her cheer and love fill my memories. The strength of Korean women was ever so evident in my Harmony, a woman who lived through Japanese occupation, left Korea to start a new life in the United States, and still works 40-hour weeks in her late 70s. Nothing can ever stop that woman. She’s resilient, she’s stubborn, and she’s my Harmony. I’m Korean, and I’m joyful. My skin color shields me from worrying about whether I’ll be a victim of police violence. That doesn’t mean I haven’t cried while imagining that the next video flashing across Facebook might be of someone in my family. Racial slurs were thrown in my face at school, from “dog-eater” to “half n*gger.” The legacy of Emmett Till lingered through my father’s attempts to protect me from a world that might try to kill me. I’m attending a university that was built through enslavement, through the system that stole my ancestors’ names from them. Nevertheless, I’m here, and I’m reclaiming this name. I’m Black, and I’m proud. Cabbage kimchi touches collard greens on my dinner plate. Al Green plays after DEAN on my Spotify. The confusion, the pain, and the love are all mixed together. I’m a joyful, proud Blasian, and nothing will ever stomp out my soul. I’m mixed, and I’m confident. It may appear as though I’m finished with my identity crises, but my joy, pride, and confidence don’t prevent the arduous struggle that is filling out boxes on a form. I’m still completely, utterly, deeply confused. However, I no longer feel alone in this confusion; my shade is just a little bit less Maroon.

Egan Barnitt

JANUARY 17, 2018

THE SATURDAY CROWD: Examining the fan base of Georgetown football By Jon Block

With just over two minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, wide receiver Tommy Jesson (MSB ’18) hauled in a 38-yard pass along the left sideline, and the Georgetown crowd at Cooper Field erupted into cheers. It was the final game of the season for the Hoyas, a Senior Day matchup against Patriot League counterpart Colgate University. In the stands along that left sideline, you could find recent Georgetown graduates and former football players supporting their old team. Pockets of current Georgetown students dotted the rest of the mostly older crowd, filling a majority of the 2,500 seats without packing them. At the south end of the stands, a high school pep band played, a replacement for the Georgetown pep band which was away at a men’s basketball game against Maryland Eastern Shore. A light rain was falling, and Colgate was beating Georgetown 35-10. Meanwhile, in Nolan Hall inside the nearby Thompson Athletic Center, Bruce Simmons (MSB ’69) was preoccupied. He was helping to prepare a postgame senior reception, where seniors on the team would head after their final game for Georgetown, leaving the Colgate players to celebrate their victory on the field. Simmons is part of a small group of alumni, mostly former football players, who are especially avid supporters of the football team. “When you say a fan of Georgetown football, the first guy’s name that comes to mind is Bruce Simmons,” said Georgetown head coach Rob Sgarlata (COL ’94). A co-captain of the football team in 1968, Simmons is a constant presence around Georgetown football and a wellknown figure among current players. “Bruce Simmons is a huge advocate for us. He’d do anything for us,” said quarterback Tim Barnes (MSB ’18). “He’s there for our Thursday walk-throughs, our Friday walk-throughs, and he’s always there for games on the sidelines.” “Win or lose, that guy is amazing,” added defensive lineman Bryan Jefferson (MSB ’18). “He really is the backbone of Georgetown football.” Simmons has done more than just offer his support as a fan. He has been involved with the evolution of the football program for more than 20 years. He helped the program transition from Division III to Division I-AA, now called the

Football Championship Subdivision (FCS), in 1993 and from Kehoe Field to then-Multi-Sport Field in 2003. He even served as a coach for a week during the 2011 season and more recently brought internet celebrity Dan Bilzerian to a practice. “On top of being a fan of the program, he has served as a mentor to a countless number of guys,” Sgarlata added. “He takes the time to truly mentor our guys about what their decisions are, what they’re looking at from a perspective of internships and jobs, and what their career path is … It gives those guys kind of a model for what they should be trying to attain once they leave our program.”

“It was always kind of like the expectation was for Georgetown to lose. Do people really understand we have a team?” From 2009 to 2015, Simmons served as president of the Gridiron Club, the alumni booster club for the football team. “My initial goal was to rekindle the alumni support for the football team, especially among football alumni,” Simmons said. The club now hosts regular tailgates at both home and away football games and fundraises for the Annual Fund for Georgetown Athletics. “What Bruce did was bring a high level of organization and dedication to every facet of [the Gridiron Club], whether it was parent organization, timeliness, fundraising, relationships with the school, or relationships with the athletic department and ex-players,” said David Goracy (COL ’71), a member of the Gridiron Club and former teammate of Simmons.

Simmons is not the only Georgetown football superfan. Goracy’s fondness for his playing days inspired him to continue to stay involved as an alumnus, hosting postgame receptions for players and their parents that would eventually inspire the Gridiron Club’s tailgate program. “The game becomes more dear to you and your memories become more dear as you get older,” Goracy said. “As you get older you want to reclaim your past.” In 2009, Goracy received the J. Gregory Carroll Award, which recognizes service to Georgetown Athletics—Simmons received the award in 2012. “You have people from the booster club there, and alumni come talk to us. It makes us want to play better,” Barnes said. “You know you have guys from the past who are supporting you, and I think that’s really important.” Look beyond this relatively small group, however, and the picture of Georgetown football fandom becomes less devoted. An overall absence of enthusiasm for the team and lackluster student attendance at games have been persistent issues. “From my personal experience in classrooms or interactions with students, it was always kind of like the expectation was for Georgetown to lose,” Jefferson said. “Do people really understand we have a team?” Barnes felt that student attendance could be better. “I think we can have the students be more involved. I’d love to see a lot more students at the games.” Maeve Healy (SFS ’18), president of Hoya Blue, the student fan club that encourages attendance at Georgetown sporting events, acknowledged that student turnout at football games falls behind other on-campus sports. “I would say football is not probably as high as we’d like it to be. We’re seeing much higher turnout for soccer, even lacrosse I’ve seen some pretty high turnout,” Healy said. The broader alumni community does not share the Gridiron Club’s enthusiasm about Georgetown football according to Andrew Geiger (COL ’99), who runs the Georgetown men’s basketball blog Casual Hoya. “Unfortunately, the word I would use is apathetic,” Geiger said. And it is not just the poor recent performances of the team—eight wins total and two in the Patriot League over the past three seasons—that have caused this indifference.

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

“No one that I know is upset with the football team,” Geiger continued. “That’s why I use the term apathetic, because people just don’t care enough to be upset.” One reason is that the team currently plays in the Patriot League, a conference in the second tier of Division I that only started allowing football scholarships in the 2013-2014 season. Georgetown is the only Patriot League school that still does not give football scholarships. Geiger feels that games against weak football schools like Lehigh, Colgate, and Bucknell are not meaningful enough to draw attention. The low stakes for football compared to other Georgetown sports can make it difficult for students and alumni who aren’t already fans to become more involved. “I don’t know who I would classify as our Georgetown football rival,” Healy said. “We have Syracuse and we have Villanova for basketball. I don’t see the same thing there with football.” There is a disconnect between the football team and the students, and Healy thinks that a better relationship between the two would be beneficial for both sides. Students would appreciate if the team became more involved with the student body, and the team would benefit from larger interest and attendance. None of this is to say that Cooper Field is barren during football games. Because of the support from the Gridiron Club and former football players, in addition to parents, many football games still have strong attendance relative to other on-campus sports. In fact, during the 2017 calendar year, Georgetown football had the highest average total attendance of any on-campus sport—men’s basketball plays off-campus at the Capital One Arena. But a big crowd at a Georgetown football game doesn’t come naturally. Supporters like Simmons and Goracy have to put in a lot of effort to make it happen. “We don’t have something that’s self-sustained. It’s not like Clemson or Alabama where you wake up next fall and, you

know, here we go again. So you really have to almost reinvent the wheel every year,” Goracy said. For their part, Simmons and Goracy recognize that the fan experience has changed since they were players. Back then, students could drink alcohol in the stands, and beer companies and NFL teams advertised at games. At the 1968 homecoming game, more than 9,000 fans were in attendance. “The fanbase has changed quite a bit, because that day it was 99.9 percent students and dates, and now it is, I would guess, 65 percent alumni and parents and 35 percent undergrads,” Simmons said. “It’s a different era, late ’60s, early ’70s,” Goracy added. “Socially it was the thing to do, and Georgetown was vastly male in terms of the population for undergrads.” Women were first allowed into the College of Arts and Sciences in 1969. To their credit, Simmons and Goracy have brought about changes to the football program that might address some of the reasons for a broader apathy towards the team. Specifically, they, along with Bob Hussey (MSB ’71), a former player, and Rory Quirk (COL ’65, GRD ’71, LAW ’80), who didn’t play football but petitioned the university to revive football at Georgetown while an undergrad, helped establish the Lou Little Cup in 2015. Named after Lou Little, a member of the College Football Hall of Fame who coached at both Georgetown and Columbia, this rivalry game between the two schools is now played every year. “We proposed that we do this because we need to build a set of traditions in the football program that are real, not made up,” Simmons said. Still, Simmons and Goracy both feel that improvements can be made to better attract and cater to fans. For Goracy, it is about the on-field results. “It all starts with if you play better, and if you play a better brand of ball by definition interest will expand,” Goracy said.

Sgarlata also believes that a more successful team would fill more seats at Cooper Field, while Geiger suspects that a winning program would attract otherwise-ambivalent alumni. For Simmons, the hope for improvement is focused more on the university’s outreach efforts. “I think we as a university do not promote student attendance at varsity athletic contests as well as we should,” Simmons said. “I believe the university needs to do a much better job of promoting and providing the fan gameday experience at a much higher quality.” One particular area of frustration for Simmons is homecoming, which he feels has lost its connection to football. “I do think the students would respond if someone made an effort to include them more openly and make it more fun for them,” Simmons said. “[Games] I’ve gone to where there’s a higher stake game, nice weather, the pep band is playing, cheers are loud enough that you can hear them, I always have a lot of fun at those games,” Healy said. Reaching out to alumni and involving them with the team may also prove to be an effective strategy for the university. Even if many alumni aren’t interested in the team now, it doesn’t mean that they don’t want Georgetown football to succeed. “I think for sure most alumni would like to have a good football team, and if there’s some solution that alumni can come together to donate to, or whatever we need to do to make that happen, I think we certainly would,” Geiger said. For Simmons and Goracy, their concerns stem from a desire to help their beloved program achieve its potential. “I just hope we can find a way to give this program what I would consider the resources it deserves so it gets the attention it deserves,” Goracy said. “I really think if we can bring all that together, a football game on a nice Saturday afternoon in the fall—pretty darn good stuff.”

EGAN

BARNIT

JANUARY 17, 2018

Mumbo Sauce: The Taste of Washington

By Alex Lewontin

Disclaimer: Although Wingo’s advertises with the Voice, this in no way affected the nature of our reporting. Photos Alex Lewontin

Across the southern United States, regional factions are locked in debate, vying to be named the champions of barbecue. In eastern North Carolina, simple spicy vinegar reigns supreme, while in the western part of the state, the smoked pork shoulder is served with a vinegar and tomato mix. As you move west, the shoulder becomes substituted first for ribs in St. Louis, and then beef brisket in Texas with the thick brown mop sauce with which most Americans are familiar: a mixture of tomato, Worcestershire sauce, and beef stock. In South Carolina, the sauce is mustard-based, while in Alabama, it is white and made of mayonnaise. But Washington, a city perpetually in limbo between the north and the south, is not known for its barbecue. Instead, there is mumbo sauce. What exactly is mumbo sauce? There is little consensus. Is it tangier, sweeter, or spicier? Should it be neon orange, ruddy brown, or blood red? Is it even spelled “mumbo” or is it “mambo?” What is clear is that mumbo sauce is fundamentally made of vinegar, tomato paste, and hot sauce, with a flavor and consistency halfway between a tomato-vinegar barbecue sauce and the duck sauce ubiquitous in Chinese-American restaurants.

“A real good one is real complex,” said Jonathan Taub, a classically trained chef and the creative mind behind Bub and Pop’s, a sandwich shop on M Street near Dupont Circle. According to Taub, a taste of mumbo sauce should start sweet and then hit with a punch of vinegar, before finally fading into heat and saltiness. The proportions, as well as the use of additional flavors, depend on where it’s made. While it can be eaten on anything, its most frequent vehicles are fried chicken wings, french fries, and fried rice. Over the years, it has become a district icon. *** There is debate about the origin of mumbo sauce. The trademark on the word “MUMBO” is held by Select Brands, LLC, a Chicago-based company that sells barbecue sauce and has been using the term since 1950. However, the story of Washington’s mumbo sauce began in Chinese carryout restaurants, often located in primarily African-American neighborhoods in the eastern quadrants of the district.

“Many of these restaurants were owned by whites,” said Maurice Jackson, Ph.D., an associate professor of history and African-American studies at Georgetown University who specializes in D.C. culture. “When the riots [of 1968] came, many left. African-Americans couldn’t buy any of these places because they didn’t have the capital, but some of the Chinese immigrants were able to scrape together capital to buy them.” “One day you were buying a snack and a sandwich, a cold cut or something, and before you knew it, now you’re buying wings and sauce,” said Marcus Douglas, a 42-year Washington resident. This Chinese-African-American fusion quickly became popular throughout the district. “The Chinese immigrants have adapted to an African-American tradition,” Jackson said, “and learned to cook things the soul food way.” The relationship between mumbo purveyors and their clientele isn’t always harmonious though. In most carryout restaurants, a thick layer of plexiglass separates the kitchen and the public area, and a lack of seating indicates that the name “carryout” isn’t a suggestion.

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Grand China Carry-Out serves typical D.C. mumbo sauce. “In some Chinese carryouts, there’s a great appreciation for blacks; in some, there’s not,” Jackson said. As with the attitudes, the food in each Chinese carryout restaurant is different. Mumbo sauce is clearly always mumbo sauce, and the variations are subtle, but try a few and a personal preference will emerge. The neon red-orange sauce at Grand China Carry-Out, on the corner of M Street and South Capitol Street by Nationals Park, is sweet and tangy, without much heat or tomato flavor. At Jerry’s Carryout, at the intersection of Florida and Georgia avenues by the Shaw-Howard University Metro station, the tomato element is especially apparent. And at Good Hope Carry-Out, in Anacostia at the corner of Good Hope Road and Minnesota Avenue, the mumbo is darker in color and a little more reminiscent of a barbecue sauce. One thing they all have in common: Mumbo sauce isn’t on the menu. It is readily available when ordered, but only to those familiar with the scene.

“Fifteen years ago, we didn’t have mumbo on the menu. We didn’t have the memo. Everyone kept asking me ‘do you have this sauce?,’ so we went out and got it,” said Michael Arthur, the manager of Wingo’s. Now, it’s their best seller. “If you were looking at the flavors of sauce, and said ‘Mike, what should I order?,’ I would say, ‘Oh, try five mumbo and five garlic parmesan, or five mumbo and five lemon pepper.’”

*** Washington’s demographics are changing. Though once known as “The Chocolate City,” the district dropped below 50 percent black in 2011 for the first time since the ‘60s. Gentrification has taken its toll on the traditional carryout and soul food restaurants. “As far as I know, there may be only one or two black soul food restaurants left,” Jackson said. “There used to be many when I came in … they’re just gone. A lot of it has to do with not being able to afford where the places were before.” With that decline, mumbo sauce has had to evolve to survive, finding success outside its original neighborhoods. “It’s hard to find a good quality mumbo sauce,” Douglas said. “If you do find it outside a Chinese restaurant, it’s that restaurant’s version of a mumbo sauce, so you just got to hope they make a good mumbo sauce. In the Chinese restaurants, their mumbo sauce has become more watered down.” Douglas prefers to get his wings and mumbo from a location familiar to many students: Wingo’s, at the intersection of Wisconsin Avenue and O Street in Georgetown.

Wingo’s makes its mumbo sauce with Thai chili peppers.

At Wingo’s, the mumbo sauce is rust orange, with sweet, smoky flavors, and a surprising heat. The unique taste comes from a secret ingredient. “If you look at the ingredients [of a traditional mumbo sauce], it’s just ketchup, or tomato sauce, vinegar, and hot sauce,” Arthur said. “We tweaked it, because I needed something a little more spicy, so we took it, and added Thai chili peppers.” When Wingo’s first started making mumbo, they carried both a traditional version and the spicier version. After a year, they stopped serving the traditional because there simply wasn’t demand. While Buffalo wings are traditionally dipped in blue cheese, Arthur recommends pairing mumbo wings with ranch. Ranch might not be a traditional feature of the carryout restaurant, but the creaminess of the dressing compliments the crunch of the fried chicken and the heat of the Thai chilies. As mumbo has entered the culture of the new Washington, more and more commercial mumbo products have emerged on the market. Capital City Company bottles and sells mumbo sauce, with mild and sweet hot varieties appearing on the shelves of district stores. In Columbia, Md., Black Flag Brewing Company even bottles a mumbo sauce beer. “When me and my friends would go out, we’d have a couple drinks, and then we’d always end up at this carryout place, that has chicken and wings and fries and all that,” said Brian Gaylor, the founder of Black Flag. “The food was junk, but the best part is that they covered it all in mumbo sauce.” The beer is citrusy, and the slight acidic tang is mildly reminiscent of the sauce. The name mostly comes, however, from the idea that just like carryout food drenched in mumbo sauce, the 8.0 percent ABV double IPA is smothered in hops. Both the city and the sauce have undergone fundamental changes. But it seems like as long as there’s a District, there will be mumbo. “If I had friends coming to D.C., and they asked me what to do,” Arthur said, “I would say, ‘Go to the monuments and eat mumbo sauce.’”

JANUARY 17, 2018

Residents Criticize Dockless Bike-share Program

By Michael Coyne Margaret Gach

Since dockless bike-sharing came to Washington, brightly colored bicycles available for public use can be found all over the city, unencumbered by any permanent docking station. However, some Georgetown residents see the seemingly omnipresent bikes often left in the middle of streets and sidewalks as a nuisance and have reported bike users to 911. On Dec. 26, 2017, WAMU reporter Martin Austermuhle tweeted a screenshot of a message in a Georgetown neighborhood listserv from a resident opposing the use of dockless bike-sharing in the neighborhood. “When I come home from work, the bikes are all over the sidewalk and in the street,” the author of the message wrote. “These bikes serve no purpose whatsoever.” The resident wrote that one of their elderly neighbors tripped and bruised her head on a dockless bike. They urged neighbors to call 911 and report “suspicious activity” if residents saw any individual using a rideshare bike and added that this strategy had already achieved results. “We have noticed a DRAMATIC decrease [in improperly parked bicycles] since initiating these calls directly to MPD 2D,” the resident wrote. The Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) responded to the listserv message by telling citizens on Dec. 26 to refrain from dialing 911 to report suspicious activity for merely using bike-share services. The department wrote in the statement it was working with the rideshare companies to develop a solution to parking the bikes. Parking enforcement is the responsibility of the D.C. Department of Public Works, not the MPD. Dockless bikes are currently offered to residents in Washington as part of a D.C. Department of Transportation “demonstration period” that will last until April 2018. Upon the program’s completion, the department will make a decision about the future of dockless bike-share companies and has encouraged public feedback on the program. According to David Alpert of Greater Greater Washington, D.C. currently allows dockless bicycles in the city from five companies: Jump, LimeBike, Mobike, Ofo, and Spin.

Zachary Schroepfer (MSB ’19), a member of the Advisory Neighborhood Council that includes Georgetown, said dockless bicycle programs are a valuable resource for Georgetown students. “The dockless bike program presents a lot of benefits for students, especially given the lack of transportation options within the Georgetown area,” Schroepfer said. Schroepfer also understands the concerns of neighborhood residents who are annoyed by improperly parked bicycles obstructing traffic and pedestrian activity. He highlighted the fact that five of the Washington’s neighborhood councils held a collective town hall meeting to discuss community perception of the dockless bikes in mid-December.

They urged neighbors to call 911 and report “suspicious activity” if residents saw any individual using a rideshare bike and added that this strategy had already achieved results. “We’re definitely going to have to have a conversation about this,” he said. Georgetown student and cyclist Cate Calogero (SFS ’18) said she appreciates the added flexibility dockless bike sharing affords to riders. “With the dockless system you don’t have to risk being charged extra if you cannot find an open dock in 30 minutes like I have experienced with Capital Bikeshare,” she said. Calogero also said that the university’s bicycle regulations have yet to accommodate the new technology. “While there are places on campus where you can’t lock [conventional] bikes, there are no rules about [dockless] bikes that do not need to be locked to be safe,” she said. “I would bet that in the future the campus will have to enforce

rules so that bikes are not blocking pedestrian traffic or in the middle of sidewalks.” Bike-share companies participating in the trial have explicitly addressed the issue of improperly parked bicycles. LimeBike’s user agreement tells customers, “the Bike must be parked at a lawful parking spot, i.e. the Bike cannot be parked on private property or in a locked area or in any other non-public space.” Similarly, Mobike asks users to “park at any public bicycle rack or at any public accessible location that does not obstruct the traffic flow of pedestrians or vehicles.” Despite citizens’ complaints, there is no standardized process for reporting the presence of illegally parked bicycles to bike-share companies. Ofo and Mobike both allow users to report improperly parked bikes from their smartphone apps (Mobike also rewards users who do so with rider credit). However, Spin allows users to report issues over the company website without downloading the app at all. It’s unclear what effect, if any, these company recommendations and policies have on rider behavior. Washington dockless bike-share users still park bicycles in strange and inconvenient locations. A notable example is from Jan. 3, when The Georgetowner reported that an Ofo bicycle was found parked in the middle of the frozen C&O Canal. It is possible that the D.C. Department of Transportation will decide to create new restrictions on the use of dockless bicycles, following the example of other cities around the world. Mashable reports that the government of Singapore decided to introduce designated parking zones for dockless bike-share vehicles in October 2017, after numerous complaints about improperly parked bicycles. Schroepfer sees such measures as a possible way forward for dockless bike sharing in Georgetown and Washington. “There is a way forward here to make sure we can have this increased transit option,” he said. “There is no perfect solution when it comes to increased transportation; it has to come with compromise.”

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Charlie Visconage’s Cool Guy Alert! Cartoon Politics, Colorful Pop Stars, By Brynn Furey Front and center in the second room of Charlie Visconage’s exhibit, Cool Guy Alert!, is a 40x30 inch acrylic painting of a man’s face. His blue hair is dishevelled, his red lips are puckered and chapped; the deep bags under his eyes shadow pulls his tired look together. The painting is entitled “ME, SELF PORTRAIT”—and this is cool guy, Charlie Visconage. Cool Guy Alert! will be showing at the Hill Center at the Old Naval Hospital through Feb. 25. Through the bright colors, messy brushstrokes, and hilarious blend of pop cultural and political references in his work, it is clear that Visconage uses painting as a way to cultivate his passion for humor and creativity. Self-taught pop artist Visconage is the former host of a local talk show, The Charlie Visconage Show, on which he and co-host Taylor Durant interviewed a variety of talented D.C. comedians, musicians, and interesting individuals such as artist Dana Ellyn, comedic writer Akilah Green, and Frank Walker, the creator of the international suicide prevention website PostSecret. Twenty episodes of the show were aired over the span of 2011-2013. On Visconage’s website, he writes, “At the time, the show felt like my only way to express my need to perform. Today, I still express that need in a different way through painting.” “ME, SELF PORTRAIT” illustrates an element of Visconage that is present in all of his paintings—a carefree spirit. His depiction of himself as slightly unkempt and downto-earth matches the large, visible brushstrokes that constitute his style of painting. His often easy-going hand invites the audience to follow his painting process where the brushstrokes can be seen. Where he paints clear outlines of his subjects or the words on the canvas, he does not always paint inside the lines. Even the outlines themselves are often not smoothly

shaped—to him, there is no such thing as a perfectly round or straight line. There are sharp corners, small dips, and an ever-changing line thickness. These “imperfections” paired with the use of bright, radiant colors are essential to creating Visconage’s cartoonish depiction of the world. Brilliant colors jump off the canvas and are the driving force of Visconage’s work. His use of color sometimes matches the real world and other times does not, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. For instance, in “CHAMPAGNE PAPI,” Drake is depicted with brown skin yet his hair is bright blue. In fact, the further away the color scheme gets from reality, the less human the subjects seem. “XOXO” features a woman with red skin, green hair, and yellow lips, all of which almost get lost behind her shimmering gold, Wonder Woman-esque facemask. Save for her conventionally female body and hair, she is less relatable than the more human “ME, SELF PORTRAIT.” Even the animals defy traditional color schemes, leaving a question of how intentional each color choice is—or if Visconage just values the adventure of color chaos. Cool Guy Alert! is primarily a collection of Visconage’s 2016 and 2017 works, so it tends to echo the recent political and pop cultural climate. Not only does the exhibit include Drake and Kanye West references, but it also features a rather poignant tribute to Prince, with the title “YOU’RE GONNA BE LONELY WITHOUT ME”—likely an allusion to Prince’s lyric “It’s gonna be lonely without you.” On a more political note, “I’M AFRAID” shows a man who looks like a thumb showing that he is “A-okay” while the ominous words “I’M AFRAID” are sprawled next to his head. Although most of the pieces in the exhibit are merely fun to look at and decipher for political and cultural messages, a few stand out for their raw and striking criticism of modern

technology culture. “SOCIAL DEATH” depicts a demoniclooking person that is distressed and holding out a broken Nexus 6 with a crying emoji on the shattered screen. The phone is surrounded by a golden glow as if it were a holy artifact. The same eerie implication of the effects of contemporary reliance on social media and networking is shown in “TIME MERCH 2.0.” The painting features a person who has had half of their face removed, yet all that is underneath is a collage of logos for companies like Twitter, Snapchat, and Facebook. What makes the painting even spookier is the bloodied, removed canvas, indicating a loss of humanity to social media. Among all the paintings in Cool Guy Alert!, the centerpiece is undeniably “19 FART’N TURTLES” which depicts exactly what you might imagine—19 turtles swimming together and releasing clouds of green gas. It is the largest, most expensive piece for sale in the exhibit, and it has an entire wall to itself, save for a short blurb about Visconage. It is clearly his pride and joy and for a good reason. It is impossible not to crack a smile when you look at the piece, and the longer you try to seriously analyze it, the funnier it seems to become. “19 FART’N TURTLES” is an absurdly hilarious painting that unequivocally showcases Visconage’s sense of humor and love of art. Charlie Visconage’s paintings are bright, entertaining, and fun to look at and try to decode. His art is relatable and engaging, each painting a puzzle with both subtle and blatant, cultural references. The laughter and knowing nods that follow the “A-ha!” moments of solving each puzzle make Cool Guy Alert! an amusing and enjoyable place to spend the afternoon. The impression left by Visconage’s work can be described in the two words written boldly across the last painting visible on the way out of the collection—“MIND. BLOWN.” Photos Brynn Furey

January 17, 2018

LEISURE

IMDB

Gorgeous and Gothic, Phantom Thread Probes the Dark Edges of Love acting giant released a statement announcing his retirement, guaranteeing Phantom Thread all the publicity and pressure that accompanies the swan song of one of the most celebrated performers of a generation.

from fairytale-like bits, including Flemish lace from the 1600s, and sumptuous fabric. During a private exhibition for clients, Alma models a burgundy dress as Reynolds watches intently, torturously, from another room. The dress is wonderful, but it is not yet perfect. To watch Phantom Thread is to be like Reynolds in those minutes of mania, pressed up against a keyhole observing a beauty that is too breathtaking to be of this world.

Phantom Thread’s Reynolds Woodcock, a man who is, above all else, intensely devoted to his craft. (Day-Lewis reportedly created a Balenciaga dress from scratch in preparation for his turn as the perfectionist designer, much like how he built canoes for The Last of the Mohicans or how he barely left his wheelchair on the set of My Left Foot.) Anderson, who serves as not

from a well-paying, unseemly client. All cues indicate that this woman is a disgusting blemish to the cultivated elegance of the Woodcock brand: she is unattractive, ostentatious, and often drunk. They storm the woman’s hotel room; Alma reclaims the dress and Reynolds, overwhelmed with gratitude, kisses her on the streets in a sweeping motion, his

with the perils of obsession and control. In their second collaboration, he and Day-Lewis develop this thread throughout, linking art to life and back again. At the beginning of Phantom Thread’s hefty 130-minute runtime, Anderson makes one

but the triumph meant to be inherent within the gesture feels empty and even exploitative.

in and out of his realm are mere mealtime distractions. Flanked by his imperious sister Cyril (a pitch-perfect Lesley Manville) and lost in his morning sketches, Reynolds bristles when his latest former muse dares to engage him at breakfast, disrupting his air of careful concentration. Cyril dismisses the offending conversationalist at her brother’s request (this woman is of so little importance that this exchange occurs offscreen), leaving Reynolds free to hurtle his sporty car into the countryside and encounter Alma, his next inspiration. Played with limpid assurance by Luxembourgian actress Vicky Krieps, Alma begins as a clumsy waitress in a hotel restaurant. Charmed by her warmth (and no doubt by her unblemished youth), Reynolds invites Alma to dinner after he lists off his lengthy order in a voice so dulcet that it sounds like seduction. That evening, he delicately wipes off her lipstick so he may “see” her and later requests that she strip down to her sheer negligee so he may take her measurements for a dress. Despite the erotic setup, implied sex will have to wait. In this moment, Reynolds loves Alma’s body only for its perfect proportions. It certainly doesn’t help that Cyril shows up ready to jot down the numbers that Reynolds dictates, all the while regarding Alma with a look of thin pity. Scenes like these reek of a gentleman’s misogyny, and it is to Krieps’ and the script’s credit that Alma does not dissolve into a swooning puddle at the undeniable power of Reynolds’ gravitas. “If you want to have a staring contest with me, you will lose,” she tells him early on in their partnership, a Though Reynolds’ repulsive paternalism makes for a less-than-healthy relationship, becomes tinged with romance thanks to Anderson’s lush visuals and Jonny Greenwood’s classical score. The costumes, created and curated by Mark Bridges, are exquisite, born

a dress, however beautiful, is just a dress. Still, there is something mesmerizing about Phantom Thread that goes beyond its performance. Reynolds is often infuriating, yet Day-Lewis infuses the character with a latent vulnerability that allows the audience to empathize even when he throws a tantrum about the preparation of his vegetables. It is Alma who brings back to Reynolds a more tender and by extension, Day-Lewis’—that binds together man and myth. In a rare November 2017 interview with W Magazine’s Lynn Hirschberg, Day-Lewis spoke about how he reached his decision to retire after Phantom Thread: [Anderson] and I laughed a lot before we made the movie. And then we stopped laughing because we were both overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. [...] I dread to use the overused word ‘artist,’ but there’s something of the responsibility of the artist that hung over me. I need to believe in the value of what I’m doing. The work can seem vital. Irresistible, even. And if an audience believes it, that should be good enough for me. But, lately, it isn’t.” Phantom Thread is a love story between Reynolds and Alma, but it is also a love story between a master and his art. Day-Lewis, like Reynolds, strives for the extraordinary, oddly comforting to know that he is retiring only because he has given so much of himself in relentless pursuit of transcendent storytelling. I doubt we would let him leave us for anything less.

By Amy Gu ay

THE GEORGETOWN VOICE

Critical Voices

LEISURE

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club:

Wrong Creatures By Anne Paglia Art can find purpose by offering cultural commentary, and the possibilities to do so abound in today’s sociopolitical climate. But instead of capitalizing on the issues, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club continues to skirt them. Nothing more than another inside-the-box rock album, Wrong Creatures is a 59-minute bland and timeworn ride that fails to make any statement besides one: 2018 will not be the year of garage rock revival. Five years after the release of Specter At The Feast (2013), the band has regressed even further into convention, with few signs of growth. BRMC’s biggest weaknesses continue to be its ineffective storytelling and apprehension toward making bold critiques. “Spook” is a charged anthem whose lyrics are at best incoherent and at worst meaningless. Unclear at whom,

Vagrant

if anyone, the chorus’ lustful declaration is directed—“I’ll be your innocent (Lie, lie, lie)/ I’ll be your last mistake (you take, you take)”—the song comes and goes aimlessly. Likewise, “All Rise” is not a rallying cry, despite any suggestion in the title, but an empty love song of unfitting rhymes that gives the impression of being written before the lyrics. The influences of producer Nick Launay, known for his work with Nick Cave, become evident in “Haunt.” It’s the first palatable track on the album, slowed down and sporting Cave’s signature gothic croons. “Echoes” is also pleasantly reigned in, liberation from an otherwise tedious work, although too derivative of breakout U2 to claim much originality. The 20 years BRMC has under its belt are not without explanation. Musically, the band has plenty of talent between

the three members: Leah Shapiro maintains steady rhythm on kit and Robert Been and Peter Hayes are capable of blending guitar and bass into a distorted stew that brews and swells but never muddies. Those elements alone could make for an engrossing album, if only the band’s songs were not meticulously crafted to the point of banality. “DFF,” the intro track, is filled with anxious drum beats and throaty growls—as if attempting to summon a human wolf pack of dazed and confused Zepheads, desperate for a lingering whiff of rock and roll—and sets hopes too high. What follows is neither chaos nor lawlessness but an unintriguing abidance to rock formula and a rebelliousness that is merely professional, running no deeper than the trio’s trademark leather jackets.

Camila Cabello:

Camila By Ryan Mazalatis For most pop stars, the transition from band member to solo artist can be a rocky one. Many pop artists have tried and failed to find commercial success after escaping the bands that launched them into stardom. Camila Cabello, formerly of pop group Fifth Harmony, has bucked this trend with her self-titled album Camila. The album has dominated the charts since its release, and Cabello has topped off its success with an impressive performance on The Tonight Show. But despite the commercial success of Camila, the album itself is nothing extraordinary. In fact, the album’s largest shortcoming is its mundanity. Most of the album is cookie-cutter pop, no different than the torrent of music that has frequented the radio for the past few years. Whether that was Cabello’s intention or her record label’s is unclear, but the end product is disappointing. Songs like “Never Be the Same” showcase this blandness, with basic synth beats and unoriginal lyrics. Most songs tend to revolve around lost love, a trope that’s as sappy as it is worn out. Accompanied by acoustic guitar on the song “All These Years,”

Sony Music Entertainment

Cabello sings, “Sounds like you’re happy with her. But does she kiss you like I kissed you? Ooh, I wish I loved you like I miss you.” Cabello’s lyrics never abandon this level of simplicity, leaving the listener largely unsatisfied. The album as a whole seems contrived and disingenuous. The songs are catchy enough to sell, but one would be hard-pressed to point to any instance of originality. Where the album shines most, however, is in the songs that tap into Cabello’s Cuban roots. Songs like “Inside Out” are influenced by Cuba’s rich musical heritage and allow one to forget some of the lackluster lyricism. The song “She Loves Control,” for example, incorporates Spanish guitar and Afro-Caribbean percussion, resulting in a track that sounds refreshingly unique in the pop genre. “Havana,” undoubtedly the most successful song to come from Camila, also incorporates elements of Cuban music, even going so far as to include a riveting, exotic trumpet solo. Cabello’s performance of “Havana” on The Tonight Show this past fall was incredibly encouraging, with the song tout-

ing a predominantly Latin sound. However, this sound is muddled on the album. The Latin instrumentation of Cabelo’s TV performance takes a backseat to old pop tropes, most notably a feature by Young Thug. While many songs, both pop and Latin, successfully incorporate rap, Young Thug’s inclusion on “Havana” comes off as unnecessary. Young Thug’s verse is nothing particularly special, and his lyrics are nearly unintelligible. Cabello infuses beats and instrumentation inspired by her Cuban heritage to a great effect in many of the songs on Camila, but these moments are undercut. One can’t listen to the album without feeling that Cabello wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted it to be or where she wanted it to go. What’s tragic is that Camila clearly demonstrates that Cabello has great potential. This potential, however, gets trampled in the search for catchy hooks and a profitable pop sound. Perhaps as Cabello matures as an artist, she’ll be able to change the pop genre with her unique incorporation of Cuban music. For now, listeners are left with an album that fails to stand apart from the crowd.

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