Issue No. 4 Editorial Board
Layout & Art Director
Summer 2013 Jimmy Chung ‘14 Iris Garcia ‘14 Justin Hung ‘14 Evangeline Warren ‘14 Vivian Xiao ‘15 Vivian Xiao ‘15
Layout Team
Grace Cheng ‘16 Mingxi Li ‘14 Rebecca Li ‘16 James Post ‘15 Cece Wang ‘16 Elaine Wang ‘16 Evangeline Warren ‘14 Vivian Xiao ‘15 Della Xu ‘15 Anna Xuan ‘14
Contributing Writers
Sam Bartusek ‘15 E-Yeon Chang ‘15 Jimmy Chung ‘14 Iris Garcia ‘14 Justin Hung ‘14 Walker Jordan ‘15 Brian Ryu ‘13 Helen Shapiro-Albert ‘14 Evangeline Warren ‘14 Vivian Xiao ‘15 Della Xu ‘15 Jake Yoon ‘15
INKredible is a student-run Hotchkiss Arts publication established in 2012. Email: inkredible@hotchkiss.org Facebook: facebook.com/inkrediblehotchkiss Issuu: issuu.com/inkredible Cover Photo by Mia Grindon ‘14 Contents Photo by Naomy Pedroza ‘16 Special Thanks To Brad Faus, Greg Lock, Ann Temkin, Fabio Witkowski, Kevin Xiao
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“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.� - St. Augustine The Hotchkiss community travels throughout the world during the Summer. In this issue, we aimed to capture not only the places that people traveled to, but also their unique experiences. Through a combination of writing, photography, and artwork, we look forward to sharing these experiences with you. Our warmest thanks for your continual support, and we hope that you enjoy this issue! All the best, - The INKredible Team
06 road trip 08 interview with Mr. lock 12 teaching 16 moma: ann temkin 18 The art of living 19 Confessions of a teenage fangirl 22 summer portals 24 psycho-pass 26 creative writing: A Summer-y Hold on to Your Summer Night Good Night Breathing
30 amalfi Coast Music & Arts Festival 32 photo showcase SUMMER 2013 INK! | 5
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Wisconsin, man. What a surprise. And Fargo, North Dakota.
When Peter and Cam brought up the idea during our prep year of going around to all the 48 states in one month after graduation, I said yes on a whim, expecting that this wild dream would never actually become a reality. Of course, I said yes again during lower-mid year, but when they asked again during upper-mid year, I knew that I had to ask my parents eventually. And they, of course, said no. After two years of subliminal convincing (throwing the term “road trip 2013” out there once in a while when they were in a good mood) and easing my parents up to the very day we got into the red camry at the Moon’s house beside Wieler, I finally went on the trip that really opened up our eyes with Carmina, Cam, and Peter. We spent the consequent month together 24/7, Cam and Peter taking turns driving and Carmina and I being the backseat crew. We had an itinerary that Cam and Peter had planned out for each day including meal locations and hotels. But after we hit Ohio, we decided that we didn’t want to stay in Cleveland for 4 hours (sorry to any Ohio residents reading this), taking ourselves ahead of schedule. Despite our many days cramped up together (sometimes quite literally), we all had different experiences. For example, Cam and Peter disliked Los Angeles to the point that they swore they would never return to the “car-mageddon”, but Carmina and I lived the life. We went to Los An-
geles Film Festival, where a director gave us free tickets to her movie. We all had different opinions of Virginia (especially the Washington D.C. area). I think Cam enjoyed himself a bit more than others, but we all ended up agreeing that Wisconsin and North Dakota were quite awesome. Who would’ve guessed? Between all the mini-golf tournaments and national monuments, it was the generosity of the people that kept us going. We met people all over the country who enjoyed listening to our stories and helping us in whatever ways that they could to ensure our journey’s completion. Sometimes, we met people whom we deemed either crazy or unconventionally mean. But a lot of the times, we felt gratitude — gratitude for a small local café in Arkansas packing us a free goodies bag for the road, gratitude for a couple in Minnesota helping us determine the mysterious noise under our car, and even gratitude for a hotel front desk lady letting us sneak four people into a two-person room. And can I just add in here that southern hospitality is an actual thing? More importantly, it was the Hotchkiss people who let us stay with them that made a huge difference. Hotchkiss connections can really get you around the entire country, whether that be a person that you’re best friends with or a person that you barely know. Just because we all go and went to the same high school, we are bonded by a string that will allow us to extend and share our Hotchkiss experiences. Many thanks to the Ogles, Pedrozas, Robinsons, Barths, Mr. Babcock, Mankutes, and of course, the Moons amongst many others who have all made this trip possible. Article and Photo by Brian Ryu ‘13 Layout by Vivian Xiao ‘15
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Interview with Mr. Lock otography? you got involved in ph w ho t ou ab ry sto ur you tell us yo INK: To start off, can hool; I favorite art in high sc y m s wa y ph ra og ot er. Ph t pictures. But ally complicated answ I got some really grea s. es oc pr Mr. Lock: That’s a re d an y og ol dy art, ally enjoyed the techn gland if you want to stu En in So ? ht did a lot of it and I re rig , nt u wa r three years at n’t really know what yo do your full degree fo d an go in high school you do u yo en th d ded to dation at college an n course, and I inten tio da un fo ar ye eyou do a one year foun on y m ictive. I fell in nt to Cambridge to do I found it really restr — it ted a different college. I we ha of nd ki I could and graphic design. atever I wanted and I wh g in ild bu e pursue photography tim t ea a gr d exciting way. ere, because I had such but in a more free an y, ph ra love with sculpture th og ot ph in g in sort of to what I was explor d did that on the side, an o ot ph in explore similar ideas led bb da I still ge for sculpture, but So I went on to colle like a minor. ral part of the otography as an integ ph ed us s ay alw I t bu ace, seehool for sculpture, was in a brand new pl I so , es di stu I went to graduate sc te ua ad y gr started using the me to New York for m y important again. I all re e way I saw things. I ca m ca be a er m w things, so the ca oring in sculpture. ing all these brand ne something I was expl s wa ich wh , rm fo e camera to captur
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“There was all sorts of new potential.”
ee program in England, and A few years later, I went onto another masters degr worth looking at; they were that was right when digital cameras were suddenly arable to old film technology. capturing enough information that they were comp similar capabilities, so I started For the first time digital photography had some looking seriously at photography again. creative technology, I had acBy the time I got through my graduate study in al renderings of reality on the cess to really good equipment. I was creating virtu phy can do. In its digital form, computer, and I really got back into what photogra g: there was all sorts of new poI thought photography was especially interestin g photography that I initially tential that was even more appealing than the analo learned.
in the future, and would you INK: Do you think that 3D art will be more prevalent be interested in exploring that as well? about how much 3D virtual Mr. Lock: Well, 3D art is huge right now. You think really massive industry; people experience you have through gaming, which is a g them alongside other people. are building these virtual spaces, and inhabitin your own 3D world and navigate Take Minecraft, for example, where you generate graphics: World of Warcraft is it. Or take something with really high-powered rate space where art is crafted, sort of an old example now, but that’s a really elabo There’s no way that’s going away. which people interact with and navigate through. 3D printing is popping up everyNow you can scan objects with your iPhone, and where; the whole 3D world is not going away.
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I think there’s something really appealing about the idea of replicating reality and simulating something known, or tweaking reality and making your own new reality. You can do all that in a virtual landscape. The really cool thing is the fine line when you see something (especially when its presented to you in the form of video or film or on the internet) and you really can’t tell if what you’re looking at is real or not. INK: On a philosophical note: in your definition, what is art? Mr. Lock: That’s difficult. In a way, I don’t want to go on record as saying I can’t answer that, but at the same time, I don’t feel I could answer that... Here’s a definition of art, and I’m kind of borrowing it from someone: Art is something that is made that has absolutely no purpose. It does not function as anything — that is Art. I’m a bit of an Art snob, though, so I don’t think Art should be something that serves just as ornamentation. It’s not decorative; that’s not the purpose of art. I think the purpose of art is more to do with expression and an exploration of ideas. INK: Switching gears to Hotchkiss, can you talk to us about the Hotchkiss Arts Department? Are you impressed? Do you think that it needs some improvements? Do you have any suggestions? Mr. Lock: I think Hotchkiss is extraordinary in that it supports all these individual arts and gives students access to them. I also find Hotchkiss very supportive of the faculty and all the ideas we bring to the table. Forty four years ago, they hired a guy called Bob Haiko, and he developed the whole photography and film department basically from scratch. He was always pushing the boundaries of how film and photography were defined. He introduced early film and video; he was always looking at what’s next. I try to approach the position in
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the same way: I’m supporting the fact that most photography now is digital. We are still looking at analog, but it might soon be too difficult to do that with all the nasty chemicals, especially in relation to environmental issues. But then working digitally uses a lot of electricity, so who knows. The school is very supportive of the idea that the students are not only given a philosophical understanding of photography and film as art forms, but also some sense of the technical possibilities — where it could go, how it fits into our society, and how this media is changing things. There are all these different components of photography and art that are really important. The lecture by Mr. Goodell brought up how powerful the media is in drawing our attention to different things — that idea is amazing. I feel that the dialogue surrounding this issue needs to happen within the art program. I feel that there are not very many places where technology is taught at Hotchkiss, really. But it is going to happen in my area. The proliferation of technology is something so big that you can’t hide behind a bush and hope it goes away. Technology is driving what we do now, and it is on its own course. You’re not going to stop it, so you need to understand it as best you can. I feel that that’s something that we have really got to allow students to do: Be creators of technology and not just consumers or end users.
“I’m a bit of an art snob.” Article by Jake Yoon ‘15 and Sam Bartusek ‘15 Layout by Della Xu
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There was a time when I was convinced that I wanted to be a teacher. I think my idealistic vision was rather easily shattered after my first teaching experience ever; I still remember the little devils who wouldn’t sit still for five seconds as I tried to read from the English version of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” I don’t think I taught them anything, but they taught me that knowledge on its own wouldn’t carry me far in my teaching career. But I had reason to hope for a different experience when I was told that I would be in charge of a newly created summer English class at a local community service center. Unlike in my previous classes, I was given complete autonomy with the class material. In other words, nobody forced me to read aloud from “Snow White” or review a grammar book that I knew would do no good to anyone’s English proficiency. I was on my own. The best part about being both a teacher and a student is that I know exactly what not to be. In that regard, I had more than plenty of models to refer to. After all,
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the English section of Korea’s private education market is fraught with irascible, intimidating, and less-than-capable teachers. In most English hagwons (after-school academies where students pay astronomical sums of money to learn various subjects ranging from English to calligraphy) the class curriculum is a stressful mix of rote memorization and bulldozing through incomprehensible reading passages for the sake of nominal progress (the money has to be worth something, right?). Such education often leave students with unnecessary mental pressure and general rage against the English language. The last thing I wanted to do was stress out my own students — if there was one thing I knew about teaching, it was that learning had to accompany interest and would do well to end with passion. So I considered this new class my opportunity to experiment. I was ambitious. I wanted to transfer my own experience at Hotchkiss and show these kids that sometimes, learning’s not so much about how many big words they can jam into their heads in an hour. But from the very first class, obstacles manifested. For one
thing, these kids were there because their mothers sent them there. In their eyes, I was already The English Teacher — no further explanation needed. Although they don’t know this yet, two English teachers who left Hotchkiss helped me run my first class. Cracking my head over how to get off to a good start, I remembered my own first class with Mr. Marchant. He showed us Pieter Bruegel’s painting, “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus,” and everything began from there. It certainly seemed like a better opening than a boring old textbook or vocabulary sheet. So I printed out six copies of the painting. Then I heeded the golden advice from Sam Prouty on the subject of teaching: “Wing it.” When I handed out the painting, the students looked puzzled. I’m almost sure they had been planning to whine about whatever came their way. Clearly, they had never seen an English teacher trying to teach English with a painting. That was good; at least I had their attention. “OK, what do you see?” I asked. Korean students are not in the slightest accustomed to a discussion-based class. Not to mention that these students could barely talk in English. Naturally, I got nowhere near the inspirational peer-topeer conversations that Mr. Marchant’s class routinely arrived at. At most, my class came up with rudimentary descriptions of the painting (“The sun is setting in the back.” “The ship is floating on the water.”). But something came out of the whole thing. I said to myself, if they learned at least one thing from this lesson, let’s call it a success. And the best part was — as Mr. Marchant said himself — that these students had not walked into class planning to say, “The sun is setting in the back and the ship is floating on the water.” Next on the agenda was vocabulary. While coerced memorization clearly bore no long-term fruit, studying words did matter a great deal in learning a language. I tried out an idea that worked surpris-
ingly well. Instead of telling them what words to memorize, I first told them to write a passage—perhaps on their weekend activity, or on their favorite movie. As they wrote, they inevitably came across words they didn’t know how to say in English. I made them write those words down on blank cards and submit them to me. Then I wrote the English equivalent on the back of each card and returned the words. This way, I thought, the students could be active, not passive, learners—they would learn out of their own need and curiosity. Sure enough, the words seemed to stick with the kids quite well, and they raised no complaint to this method.
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As I said, I was ambitious. I wanted the class to last more than just a few summer weeks; I wanted it to be a lifelong memory. According to Oscar Wilde, my students would most likely forget what I taught, but remember what I was. I wanted to be remembered as That English Teacher, unique and unforgettable. Call it vanity, but if my character can create a stronger inspiration than the words I say, why not? So I spent a couple of days writing a story tailored not only to the kids’ English level, but also to their lives, because I wanted to be remembered as the guy who cared. During one class, we shared our future dreams. The discussion produced an interesting list—nail artist, barista, choco-
latier… Unlike these delightful kids, many Korean teenagers suffer from a disease — one that somehow robs them of their dreams and replaces them with college and jobs. These kids had not yet caught the disease, and by God, I wanted them to stay immune to it. The result was a story titled “Sail for the Stars,” in which I did my best to relay a hopeful message about dreams by means of two characters who each want to grow up to be a nail artist and barista. Written, of course, by a clueless teenager who wants to grow up to be a writer.
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What is all this about anyways? Am I showing off my exciting summer experience and glorifying myself as the godly teacher? Certainly not. I went through a couple of not-so-happy phases with the class. And as hard as it is to admit, more than half my grand teaching goals never came true (two of the students strongly disliked my story; it was difficult and boring). But I wanted to share something important I’ve realized about teaching, that it’s another form of art. There’s craft, yes, but art also. I’ve taught each student at least one thing they won’t forget, and that’s quite an amazing feeling. It might be a particularly difficult word that they finally mastered, or Icarus floundering in the water, or the phrase “Sail for the Stars”, or how to order a burger in English. Some of these things come from me. Amazingly, some come from Mr. Marchant, Mr. Prouty, and other mentors in my life. They in turn learned it from their teachers, and so on. Hard to believe, but all of us live in other people’s minds, and will live as long as the train of inspiration continues. I think we all had our own starting point; for me, it was an angry rant on my home country’s English education. From there, we have to believe in ourselves, and in Something Good that will happen during class. Teaching, I see now, is more about faith than I thought.
I often ask my students why they come to my class. One adamant girl would consistently answer, “Because my mom told me to.” My favorite three words from the class are her now-revised response: “This is fun.” Article by Jimmy Chung ‘14 Layout by Vivian Xiao ‘15
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Since assuming what many describe as the most prestigious position in the curatorial field at MoMA in 2008, Ann Temkin has bolstered and diversified the museum’s already impressive portfolio. During a phone interview with Walker Jordan ‘15, Ann explains her role at MoMA, discloses her interpretation of several significant Expressionist pieces, and shares her insight into the future of art. An Art History major, Ann’s passion for art manifested itself in a desire to connect people with art in original and surprising ways. Clairvoyantly, Ann describes the creation of a show as an organic process. “Part of the reason why we explore and research art in preparation for an exhibit is to learn and discover for ourselves. The message of a show changes with the curator’s perception. A good curator will listen to his or her instincts and won’t conform to the original plan. The driving subject of a show is similar to a hypothesis.You research, you look, you listen, and then you reconsider.” Once a curator has formulated an idea for a show, it is presented to the entire curatorial staff of twenty five members. Ann emphasizes the importance of honest and constructive criticism at this stage; bureaucracy and unspoken opinions have no place at these meetings. MoMA’s unparalleled standing in the world of modern art attests to the power of this method of critique; Pixar has found similar success.
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Last October, an anonymous donor agreed to lend the museum one of the four original versions of Edvard Munch’s 1893 The Scream. In addition to the pastel-onboard masterpiece, the Munch exhibit displays a plethora of the tortured Norwegian’s other works including a lithograph print of The Scream. The inspiration behind Munch’s paragon creation remains unclear; did nature call out to him as he once stated, or is the howling figure Munch himself after uncovering his girlfriend’s treachery, as suggested in Melancholy and Jealousy? Ann muses, “We will never know what made him create it. And I don’t suppose it matters either. What matters is that Munch transformed a private motif into an emblem for anyone with anxiety. It represents something inner, immediate, and absolute.” But why the $120 million price tag? Ann replies “Partly because of the emblem I mentioned before, but partly because the image is universal. It remains an image for all people; it is real, genuine art.” “What are some of your favorite pieces currently in the museum?” I ask out of an obligation to the gods of softball questions. As usual, Ann acknowledges the question with a unique and thoughtful take. “It’s hard for someone like me to say that. Previous generations focused on ranking art. Now, our generation says ‘let’s look at art in as many ways as possible.’ Collectively, we view art from different perspectives to con-
tribute to a more grand understanding of the piece as a whole. However, I think many of the most beautiful pieces in the museum are Matisse’s. Matisse once said he wanted his art ‘to be an armchair for a tired businessman.’ When I walk into the room and look at his work, I feel so much calm and beauty. Too many people think art has to be a complicated, intellectual thing. But oftentimes, art is about pleasure.” As our conversation heads toward the future of art, I implore Ann to reflect upon the effect of the Information Age on art and artists worldwide. With instant communication, will artists have an easier time sharing their work, or will the growing competition negate that advantage? “It could go both ways. Although the world is different, it is in many ways the same. There are more ways to enter a greater stage, but the difficulty in spreading your work remains the same. By definition, only really great art will be everlasting. If you are a person aiming for that, then you are setting a big goal for yourself. I think most artists work for themselves; they want people to see their creations and ideas. In that sense, the digital age has left the art world untouched.” With the voices of several classmates in the back of my mind, I ask,“Many have claimed all new art reflects an antecedent movement. In 50 years, do you think people will look back and remember a distinctive and original movement? Or will every piece be evocative of an earlier generation? I think of Jeanne Claude’s
The Gates installation in Central Park as a major work during my lifetime; could installation art be the definitive movement of the early 2000’s? Or perhaps something digital?” “Certainly screens are so deeply part of our way of life now, they have a tremendous effect on young artists. The influence of technology is inescapable; I know the effect of digital media on art will be significant, but I cannot predict what we will remember. A lot can happen in fifty years.” As Ann prepares to leave the call and return to her family, I bother her for one last question. “What has been the biggest surprise to you since accepting your position?” Graciously, Ann stays to respond. “I have a better understanding of the future of the museum. MoMA is what it is because of the curators’ legacy. MoMA won’t be as great as it is if we don’t add in a smart way. The museum could be unimportant in twenty or thirty years if we don’t add and build in interesting ways. If the works we choose are important, MoMA will remain the great institution that it is.” Following our conversation, I review my notes and consider Ann’s words concerning legacy. In all things, we must find a balance between recognizing the work of those before us and setting ourselves apart from it. As a people, we can look to art to better understand ourselves. Whether the disfigured form of Munch’s quintessential work causes us to ponder the unbalanced state of man and nature, or the colorful fluidity of Matisse’s masterpieces strengthens our inner peace, we will continue to reckon with the force of art for the years to come. Article by Walker Jordan ‘15 Layout by James Post ‘15 Image 1: Edvard Munch. The Scream. 1895. Image 2: Jeanne Claude. The Gates. - Image by Jim Freund Image 3: Michael Falco for the New York Times
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This summer I had the odd pleasure of spending three weeks living in a cabin in the woods with fifteen other girls and a chipmunk. Yes, the early morning trump et calls, thirty- minutes of cabincleanin g chaos, and two-hundred -meter breakf ast sprints to make first period class were somew hat tiresome — but against the remain ing 22.7 hours of each day, these morning trifles were worth it. Music jams, dance offs, storytelling , and mooch ing off each other’ s secret stashes of gummy worm s - these were regula r activit ies within Cabin 23, dubbed the ‘ b atcave’ by a predec essor who had painte d a giant batman-sym bol across one of our walls. So too did other dwellers leave their marks ; inscrib ed on every inch of wood panel were quotes , poems , signatu res, letters and the occasional inappropri ate term from as far back as 19 74. More importantly, however, I took art classes . Experi menta l fashion , book arts, figure drawing, and a major in metalsmith ing; not sure why I chose metalsmith ing, but it sounde d industrious and had a nifty studio . It looked like a cross between a science lab and a hardw are store with a hint of Dumb ledore’ s office. Imagine a room full of strange tools and trinkets: texturing hammers, planis hing hammers, files, sandpapers, anvils, vice grips, metal presses, saws, drills, torches, enamelling kilns, mysterious jars of chemi cal solutions, and a pot of green bubblin g acid. Before these gadgets and gizmo s a plenty and whozits and whats its galore I felt posses sed by an invento r’ s creative mania . 18 | INK! SUMMER 2013
With that mania came a plenti ful and potent ially unhea lthy amount of time spent workin g. I practi ced art from dawn to dusk. In my first- ever experi menta l fashion class, I embarked on a thirtyhour bead- and-sequin- sewin g marat hon. Sewin g beads for up to six hours at a time, I grabbe d every wakin g moment to sew those beads. In the library, on main camp, and at the beach, I kept my scorpi on clutch close at hand, occasionally gleanin g curious stares from passer sby. I still left some space to just be present; to take in my surroundings and connec t with the time and place of Interloch en. My favorite moment of each day was the golden hour right before check- in, when the sun would be just high enough to cast its warm glow across the treetops in the woods . I would sit out on the sun-deck and just gaze at the mesmerizing colors in the sky: a thin purple lining along the mountains, a soft pink glow right above, streaks of orange and yellow, a hint of green, and finally clear blue for miles above. On days after rainfa ll, enchanting clouds danced across the sky. After each day of hard work, absorb ing the sights , sounds and smells of nature reminded me of how lucky I was to be in this place. At Interlochen I lived and breath ed art. If you’ re looking for a place where you can feel a sense of belonging, discover new things , and pursue your own passion, then perhap s you should try spending three weeks living in a cabin, in the woods , with fifteen room- mates , and, of course , a chipmunk. Article and Layout by Vivian Xiao ‘ 15
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I’m about to tell you one of my deepest darkest secrets. Are you ready? Here it goes: I am a closet fangirl - unless, if you’ve already checked out my dorm room, then the posters kind of give that secret away. As often goes hand-in-hand with this affliction, I read fanfiction. I’ve been reading (and occasionally writing) fanfics since Thanksgiving of my Prep year when I first heard about fanfiction.net from some older friends of mine. I checked out the site and was quickly initiated into the world of fandoms and fangirling (or fanboying as the case may occasionally be). For those who have yet to discover this wonderful world, let me give you a brief tour. I define fanfiction as taking one or more elements of a fictional world and tweaking it. I use the example of Harry Potter frequently. A fic could answer the question: “What if Harry, Ron, Hermione and everyone else were just muggles at a boarding school? What would change? What would stay the same?” Or, a fic could answer the question: “What happened in those nineteen years?” The Fandom is a collective term referring to the fangirls and boys of a show as well as the content that they produce and distribute, be it memes, fanart or fanfiction. Recently, fanfiction has crept out of the dark corners of the interwebs and reluctantly into the spotlight. I’m sure many of you are aware of Fifty Shades of Grey and the following two books in the series. Regardless of one’s stance on the subject material and the writer’s talent (or lack thereof as may be the case) the books were certainly popular. Fifty Shades of Grey was originally written as graphic fanfiction of the Twilight series. Christian = Edward and Ana = Bella. It was quite popular on the niche forum that E. L. James originally posted it on and so she changed some names around and badabing badaboom, a wonderful series made for the lonely housewives of the world.
Article by Evangeline Warren ‘14 Layout by Anna Xuan ‘14 With the rising popularity of Christian Grey and Ana Steele came growing interest into the original form of the story. This brought increased attention to fanfiction in general and the community that creates it. Due to the nature of Fifty Shades of Grey and the tendency of fangirls to ‘ship’ (place in a relationship) anything that moves, fanfiction found itself in a very negative light. Fanfiction may be overly fond of graphic sex scenes between unlikely pairings, but it offers something found nowhere else: a writer’s playground without criticism and the structure of more formal writing. You don’t need to worry about world building or character sketches and can work on developing the all important “writer’s voice.” Once you gain a bit more confidence, you could experiment with original characters and alternate universes, honing different aspects of a writer’s skill set. For me, fanfiction allowed my writing to be shared with a receptive audience who were quite willing to give praise when deserved and advice when necessary. All in all, it’s a very healthy environment for budding or bashful writers. I still have, saved on my computer, those first reviews I received on my very badly written Vampire Academy fanfiction (I was a Prep) and I look at them when I need a reminder of why I’m staying up an hour later than everyone else to bash out another chapter. Even now, when I have, for the most part, abandoned my longer stories, I still receive requests for me to continue writing and new subscriber emails every few weeks, a constant reminder of past successes. The existence of fanfiction as a medium is an invaluable tool in the development of writers. Fanfiction allowed me to stretch my writing muscles and even now, when I’m primarily focused on writing original fiction, it offers me a refuge. I’m always happy to write some sappy Destiel one shot (a one chapter story, often focused solely on fluff, or pure cuddles) when writer’s block is making work on Phoenix difficult. Fanfic writers are people who are passionate about writing and are in no way forced to write. Unlike a homework assignment, the often daily drive to write comes from the joy derived from the art itself, not the grade it receives. I am of the opinion that the next batch of JK Rowling’s and Dr. Suess’s are right now honing their talents with stories of Booth, Brennan, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Dean, Cas,xxx Sam, Bella, Edward, Renesmee, Jacob, Eragon, Arya, Rose, Dimitri, Lissa, Christian, Ana, Legolas, Arwen, Aragorn, Rachel, Finn, Quinn, Kurt, Blaine, Buffy, Angel and others and I can think of no greater gift to the world than that.
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Summer Portals
Blistering heat. Gnats clouding every corner. The barely tolerable, blinding rays of sun cascading into every crevice. Hot winds, violent storms, and, here’s the kick, no air conditioning. Summers in Hotchkiss can barely be adequate. How can anyone tolerate that extreme heat, lack of proper facilities in dormitories, and not having any friends on campus? But, friends were easy to make here, even with the life-threatening weather. The Summer Portals Program includes a set of summer activities for students from across the globe. These programs range from Environmental Studies for a potluck of students all over America to teaching Theatre and Literature to a group of Chinese students who have travelled over a sea to be part of the three- to fourweek program. But with the blinding sun, random thunderstorms, and occasional (read: frequent) bug bites, why would anyone want to come back to school here to spend a summer? People are different in Portals, as evident from Mrs. Rawlings immediately telling me to call her “‘Christie’, because I don’t like to hear ‘Mrs. Rawlings’ during the summer” as I walked in to get registered, and the atmosphere is lighter. There is no stress or the sense of overwhelming responsibility that I expected to come with spending a week or two at Camp Hotchkiss. I hope the people I’ve met through the Core Leadership Program with Ms. Cornelia Holden, and the people I’ve met through passing, will grow to be lifelong friends of mine. I felt, in all honesty, at home for the first time in my three years at Hotchkiss. People are welcoming in Portals, as shown by everyone from all different walks of life and all different types of programs simply saying “hello” to me in the hallway. I was happy to oblige, waving at familiar faces and not too familiar faces, giving Mr. McKib-
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“There is no stress or the sense of overwhelming responsibility...I felt, in all honesty, at home for the first time in my three years at Hotchkiss.”
ben a high five in passing, giving Mr. Ellington from IT a hug after his farewell party for his time at Hotchkiss, a simple nod and smile to Mr. Zackheim as he roamed the halls finding his theatre students and spending his own final days with the school. There’s so much life in Portals that I wish it was sometimes more visible during my actual school year in Hotchkiss. Through Portals, I am reminded that people could be genuinely kind and happy. Sometimes I forget that little piece of positivity during the school year. I heard praise for Elfers Hall, exclamations for Walker Auditorium, admiration for Hotchkiss alumni who came back to be counselors for various Portal programs, and the intermittent “I love it here!” from quite a few Portals’ students. Kids were happy to be here, experiencing the campus and all its 800-acre glory. What made these students so different was the gratefulness the exuded. With the reverence of the campus came respect for the other participants of Portals. The humbleness that the students emulated could only push their kindness towards others even more. I’ve never met such a community where their appreciation for everything included an appreciation for one another. And even through the heat and rain and god-awful humidity, I was able to make a family here with all this excitement about life. With all the papers, essays, projects, speeches, and grades that we face during a normal Hotchkiss day, we forget how to simply enjoy life, and that’s probably something I took away from my Portals experience: how to live a good, fulfilling life with people who honestly, genuinely care for your health, opinion, and well-being. I won’t forget that when I come in this senior year, proctor to a group of rambunctious lowerclassman girls. I know it will get tough, but if I can be there to make their days through some stormy clouds, I know I can help make Hotchkiss a better place when I finally leave, because a community like Portals shouldn’t exist for just a summer.
Article by Iris Garcia ‘14 Layout by Rebecca Li ‘16 Photos from Hotchkiss Summer Programs Catalog
“There’s so much life in Portals... I was able to make a family here.” SUMMER 2013 INK! | 23
Article by Justin Hung ‘14
Layout by Mingxi Li ‘14
We all spend much time debating utopian and dystopian universes. In due time, we eventually may succeed in accomplishing and meeting utopian ideals, satisfying the fundamentals of equality in a harmonious equilibrium with efficiency. That’s what Psycho-Pass does. And then there emerges some discrepancy, a paradox or loophole of sorts that only a minority notices. What happens then? Psycho-Pass does. So what IS Psycho-Pass? Well, one could define that, in this article at least, as one of two things. Psycho-Pass is a Japanese Animation show, more colloquially referred to as “anime,” that debuted around October of 2012. Set around one hundred years into the future, the series chronicles the tale of a newbie inspector, born and raised as the perfect specimen to the utopian future as she meets individuals still clinging to the past. As a police inspector, she, along with these estranged individuals and an overly harsh supervisor, must traverse the country in search of a homicidal madman who bases his actions off the writings of many great authors. The creator of PsychoPass has since confirmed the planning of a second season to expand upon the universe introduced in the first series, due to popular acclaim. Of course, he hasn’t leaked much about the plot or
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any of the details with regards to the sequel in any way. “Psycho-Pass” is the quantitative measurement of a person’s psychological well-being, also known as a crime-coefficient: Based on a number of psychological evaluations by the super computer governing system, otherwise known as SIBYL , each citizen is evaluated and given a number to measure his or her worth. Any act of violence, reaction with negative emotion or even a single thought of retribution and one’s Psycho-Pass can skyrocket. Happen across a bad day? The number goes up. Feeling kind of blue? The number goes up. Trying to show off? The number goes up. Oh yes, and if you know something or someone that has problems, your Psycho-Pass will rise too, in proportion to their gravity. In the series’ universe, once the Psycho-Pass of a person exceeds a certain value, the cruelly rational system will determine the person’s worth and chances of psychological rehabilitation, requiring affected individuals to attend seminars to seek counseling or suffer from full lockdown. Certain individuals who pass the threshold, however, can work as Enforcers, the hunting dogs of the taming inspectors to execute the system’s will. Luckily enough, to restrict Enforcers to making rational
decisions unaffected by their supposedly “psychotic nature,” guns will only shoot at those with a crime co-efficient high enough to deem the target one for enforcement, which may include execution. You can imagine the detrimental trade-off and one great loophole this produces. If you can’t, I won’t spoil it for you. Visual artists may benefit from the incredible scenery and character design of the series. For an animated series from a major hub of animation pictures, this should come as no surprise. Designers and animators alike have meticulously crafted the setting of Tokyo into a daylight utopia and turned the same city into a dystopian nightmare. Here, one may witness the beauty of the metropolitan landscape, illuminated by the abundant collection of streetlights, skyscrapers and neon store signs. Those looking for inspiration for their next sketch or perhaps an idea of how the world of Alduous Huxley’s Brave New World or Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle might seem will surely finish every episode astonished, if not satisfied. Of course, the story far surpasses that of your average detective novel. Within each character lies a singular arc that deviates from the main story’s continuum but nevertheless, entertains any and all who can associate with the charac-
“Combine 1984 with the Sherlock
Holmes series and additional elements drawn from pretty much any novel with a modern setting and out churns PsychoPass.”
ter. Though tempting, you should not even so much as try to follow all of the storylines at the same time in one go. Even if it were possible, you might need to spend weekends upon weekends for months to come before finally finishing their well-detailed map of character relations and timelines. Furthermore, the crimes and investigative riddles far trump those of the average brain-teaser, each subsequent incident requiring more thought on the viewers’ part. To summarize, combine 1984 with the Sherlock Holmes series and additional elements drawn from pretty much any novel with a modern setting and out churns Psycho-Pass. Fancy firefights and spectacular plot twists aside, viewers who enjoy a little philosophy and psychology may also take solace in the benevolent amount of theory and ideology presented throughout the series. With each character coming from a slightly different background, the eclectic cast forces viewers to ponder upon life and the prospect of living given the parameters of organized society. What does it mean to enjoy life? How can one fit in? Will justice ever truly triumph? Such questions and many more pop up more than once throughout the episodes and asides. Pay close attention to these and you may benefit from the thoughtful consideration the writers and creator place in every word, action and setting in the series. I don’t recommend spending all of your time watching this show, of course: We all have more important things to tend to such as work, work and…. Well, work. However, if you ever find yourself with time and little to do, you should definitely give this series a try.
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e v i t a Cre riting W A
r-y
me Sum nS
Hele
lbert
ro-A hapi
on at no une e e k a I aw s of J g my nam air. d n u llin the e so to th fields ca soon fill ill and ests mpfires w r o f ca the rom f e k Smo h y sig p p a ah erts With it’s July s and des plore. x le now jung r me to e o t f f o f yo dy y to fl nths rea d a e I’m r still mo st e are thru m Ther ’ I t wi . I kno f August e r o t too f o e e t r e b i a f e a n e h the bar The the into ater is in re under a w Salt and that s d ks an c o r r eets embe r m e and m r e n. eft to Septemb l crow m e ’ I h s t ’ d t es An rk wi t, no AM is da chool tak a h t l al ds six n, an And w o d ed push e r a days s d m n a a e dr ous s. mer ng th sun ray i m Sum e se er for a el summ t i a w fe I will ce again n to o
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Hold on to
Your Summ e
Jimmy Chu
r Night
ng
Beware, ho ld on to you r summer n A most unw ight! elcome kno ck you’ll he if you gamb ar le away the dawning lig ht. Slithering w aves evade and steal yo your sight, ur rhythms you held so Beware, ho dear— ld on to you r summer n ight. Silence, sile nce! No rea son to delig melting me ht; mories dese rve your fea if you gamb r le away the dawning lig ht. Do not emb race what y ou cannot fi Hide your s ght. mile, tomor row lurks n you must h e ar— old on to yo ur summer night. Watch it, th is fragrant darkness m drift awhile ight , and aband on you here if you gamb le away the dawning lig ht. From lush g reen to old red to cold the tale of T white, ime rings a You cannot ll too clear— hold on to y our summe if you gamb r night le away the dawning lig ht!
Poems by Helen : Shapir o Jimmy Chung -Albert ‘14 ‘ 14 Layou t by: Rebec ca Li ‘ 16
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Good Night
Article by Della Xu ‘15 Layout by Elaine Wang ‘16
The chubby boy sat there playing with his toy train. “Choo-choo…” He puckered up his dainty lips as he imitated the sound he loved. On the couch, the woman smiled, taking in the scene of the warm room. The fireplace lit up her face; a few wrinkles, big brown eyes, warm—yet a cloud seems to linger behind the chestnut pupils. Her gaze were fixed on the child with tenderness. “Mommy, I’m tired.” “Oh honey, it’s not bedtime yet.” “I know,” whined the boy, “when is daddy coming back from work?” “Soon, my darling, when his car is fixed.” “But you always say that.” He protested. She ignored him by turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “Those need some cleaning,” she started, but soon stopped her thoughts in time. ‘Maybe not today, not this time.’ People stare now—as if she couldn’t notice, she laughs to herself. The sound of a dropping necklace lowered her gaze; she picked up and grasped on more tightly to the beauty that has lost its luster. “Beautiful, that’s the word”, she ran her tongue over the syllables as she recalled the firm hands which cupped her face in them, the talking blue eyes looking into hers, and the familiar lips forming the word: she should really stop thinking. When was the last time she had convinced herself to forget? This morning when she was pouring coffee? Or was it when she picked up the newspaper? Walking to work alone? She waved her arms in the air to ward of the thoughts. It was impossible to look into her baby’s light blue eyes without thinking about another such pair. There must be a way. After tucking her boy in, she walked towards the table—the table replete with memories—almost stumbling over a stool on the way. Damn the stool; why was it always in her way? The impediments in her life were overwhelming. People stare and talk, spitting knives behind her back and in her face. Even her own father thinks she is to blame. Why does no one understand, why does no one try to understand; the blame and guilt of not being there that day is driving her insane. Opening a drawer in the table, she fumbled out a scrap piece of paper. “Another of those stories,” she mumbled as she turned to the mirror and smoothed out her hair. It’s been months since she’s looked at herself closely. The pale tired face in the reflection seems to smile at her. Maybe today is the day, it is the right time. She turned around and walked back to her baby’s room. Singing a lullaby, she placed the pendant around his neck. “Good night,” she whispered, as she took out the bottle and gulped down a handful with warm water. She held out another few to the boy before her dreary brown eyes fluttered into deep sleep. Two days later, the newspaper boy found the body; a woman clutching a poorly stuffed teddy bear with blue-glass eyes and a blue pendant hanging around its neck; a piece torn from three month old newspaper lay with shards of glass by her other hand: Tragic car accident killing father and son.
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Breathing comes easier through her clavicle but for you, I gave up the simple pleasures of exhaling every night.
Breathing comes easier through her clavicle but Inhale for you, I gave up the simple pleasures of exhaling every night.
g n i h t a
e r B
Article by E-yeon Chang ‘15 Layout by Elaine Wang ‘16
Most of my dreams are of sleeping,
did you know? Inhale once heard someone say MostIsleep of mywas dreams are of sleeping, a natural temptation. did you know? I once heard someone say Inhale sleep was a natural temptation. I bought condoms for my nightstand so you’d never suspect.
Inhale Inhale I bought for myme nightstand so you’d never suspect. Fathercondoms Simon asked to stand up in the middle of mass,
Inhale acknowledged me for my piety. Father Simon asked me to stand in the mass, Heup told the middle crowd of that acknowledged meme forrid my the piety. Catholics like world of evil things. Then he asked to lead me a prayer
He told the crowd for people like that me to find God. Catholics like me rid the world of evil things. ThenI only he asked to lead methe a prayer stuttered over Amen. for people like me to find God. Inhale
I onlyyoustuttered over the Amen. ask about Phillip Inhale Inhale you Iask Phillip metabout one of your friends
in the middle of the street.
Inhale She complimented me on my diligence, I mettold oneme of I’d yourmake friends one lucky boy very happy one day. in the middle ofher. the street. I thanked She complimented me on my diligence, toldExhale. me I’d make one lucky boy very happy one day. I thanked I thanked her. her but apologized right after
‘cause she must have mistaken me Exhale. for someone else’s girl who needed I thanked her make a boy happy but to apologized right afterto feel complete. ‘cause she must have mistaken me Exhale else’s girl who needed for someone Phillip was happy a lying,to cheating bastard. to make a boy feel complete. Exhale Exhale You know her name Phillip wasdon’t a lying, cheating bastard. ‘cause I didn’t want you to but
call her Hell anyway Exhale that’s Youbecause don’t know herwhere nameyou think I’ll go for loving her. ‘cause I didn’t want you to but call her Hell anyway Hell laughs into my shoulder blades. because that’s where you think I’ll go for loving her. Exhale
look atinto youmythrough eyes Hell Ilaughs shoulderpryed blades. I mean,
Pride eyes. Exhale Wow, it must be so frustrating in your mind. I look at you through pryed eyes I mean, Exhale PrideI start eyes.sleeping Wow, it must beshe so frustrating your mind. even when holds me inlight.
Exhale Exhale I start sleeping I catch falling flowers with my eyelashes, evenfind when holds me light. theshe moon nestled in my rib cage,
and drink in the rain drops between our entwined fingers.
Exhale I catch falling flowers with eyelashes, I read somewhere thatmyGod created nature ‘cause He loved man. find the moon nestled in my rib cage, andHe drink in the drops between our entwined must stillrain love me. He must have made herfingers. for me. I read somewhere thatexplanation God created ‘cause loved man. There is no other fornature how her noseHe perfectly crooks into my clavicle,
He must still love me.dance He must made her for me. and lets the air offhave my skin.
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Betsy Li ’14
Isabel Weiss ‘14
Drew McKinzie ‘14
Franton Lin ‘14
Isabel Weiss ‘14
Pat Kelly
Mia Grindon ‘14
Drew McKinzie ‘14
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Maria Xu ‘15
Caroline Reilly
Maria Xu ‘15
SUMMER PHOTO SHOWCASE Layout by Cece Wang ‘16 Maria Xu ‘15
Pat Kelly
James Post ‘15
Naomy Pedroza ‘16
James Post ‘15
Cece Wang ‘16
Drew McKinzie ‘14
Naomy Pedroza ‘16
Mia Grindon ‘14
Naomy Pedroza ‘16
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Franton Lin ‘14
Jake Yoon ‘15
Mia Grindon ‘14
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Stephen Moon ‘16
Maria Xu ‘15
Naomy Pedroza ‘16
Cece Wang ‘16
Letty Downs
Amanda McClure
Cece Wang ‘16