NO15 VOL. IV
SUMMER 2012
Photo by Marta Giaccone
NO15 VOL. IV
TABLE OF CONTENTS LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
3
15 THINGS WE LIKE
4
(UN)FAIR USE
6
SUPER MASH BROS.
8
POGO
12
CANDY
16
RUNAWAYS
24
STILLNESS IN THE MOVE
38
IT’S A JUNGLE. PLAY THE PART
40
DEBATE: HAUTE COUTURE KNOCKOFFS
44
THE GALLERY
46
8.3 MINUTES
60
THE SHAMANIC EXPERIENCE OF CINEMA
64
MY ONLY FRIEND, THE END
66
A NEW KIND OF FRIEND
68
VIRTUAL SANITY
70
á MICHA CARDENAS: TRANSREAL THOUGHTS
72
THE LONG GAME OF DEATH
78
EXISTENCE
80
PASS ME BY
88
STAFF
104
LETTER FROM
THE EDITOR
You’re finishing your last thought. Your lungs are about to stop. You’re taking your last breath. Your eyes start to close. And finally, your heart stops beating. What’s next? Are you dead? Most of us probably don’t know what its like to die, but we’ve definitely thought about it. We’ve thought about what we might feel as our consciousness slips away. We’ve thought about where we might go after our body becomes disconnected from our mind. We’ve thought about the possibility of finding nothing but darkness after the moment of death. Though death is full of uncertainty, we’ve been force-fed different explanations that attempt to pin down the exact meaning of dying. From what we’ve been given, we’re simply not satisfied. Rather than focus on the idea of death as purely physical, we explore the different ways in which we attempt to shift death, and transform it into life. Micha Cárdenas sheds light on how the extension of life through virtual identities change the way we perceive our own selves in the real world. Pogo & The Super Mash Bros.’s electrifying remixes challenge the existence of “birth” in the music industry. The cast of American Horror Story shares that their movement through time is not only the death of their past, but also the survival of their future. Our impulse to understand how the mind might survive the body will continue to drive us to search for more ways to challenge death. The end may be unknown, and the process of dying may be full of mystery, but the possibilities to outlive death and forever be eternal remain endless. I’m very pleased to present our “Immortality” issue. Our passion is reflected in our pages.
Kevin Nguyen Editor-In-Chief
15 THINGS WE LIKE
“Call My Name” by Cheryl Cole Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds “Stay” by Erik Hassle Father, Son, Holy Ghost by Girls Koop Island Blues by Koop
Event Factory by Renee Gladman Descent of Alette by Alice Notley The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho Transreal: Political Aesthetics Of Crossing Realities by Micha Cárdenas Little Birds by Anais Nin
Night Porter Prometheus In the Mood for Love Madame Freedom Heartbeats
NOISE
C
(UN)FAIR USE by Shane Konno
The human race has always built upon the past in order to create the future. Repurposing, remodeling, recycling. These common actions are vital to the advancement of our species. Each falls within the ever crucial process of the remix. Culture is constantly using what exists to innovate and create (or should I say recreate). New devices employ the ideas of existent technology, designers look to fashion past for inspiration, and we all know the same storylines are recycled and distributed in “new� movies, books and television programs. Remix affects every aspect of human life, but the term is most directly linked to the realm of music. In the music world, death is nearly impossible, but so is life. Through remix, music is in a constant state of decay and regeneration. The first definition that comes to mind when one hears the term remix, is probably a new version of already known song. Today, remixes of hit songs offer a new take on the existing song and often attract new audiences. Remixing has also given rise to the mash-up, in which multiple songs are layered on one another and manipulated to create a whole new song. Remixing has always been prevalent in music world, yet this common practice of taking what already exists, changing it and presenting it in a new way is heavily restricted legally. 6
Copyright laws place bars around the use of existent music and prevent full artistic expression of musicians. Every song produced, whether it is meant for radio play, live performance, or even a commercial jingle, is copyrighted. In order to legally use copyrighted music one must pay hefty licensing fees to the companies that own the copyrights. If you does not pay (and even if you do, in some cases) you could face major litigation from powerful corporations. Take the Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony” for example. In the late 90s, the Verve obtained legal rights to sample a portion of the Andrew Oldham Orchestra’s 1966 version of “The Last Time” by the Rolling Stones. Although they had obtained permission prior to recording, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, the “writers” of “The Last Time” sued the band, claiming they had used too much of their work. The lawsuit over the rights to “Bittersweet Symphony” resulted in Richards and Jagger receiving all credit to the Verve’s song. One might view this as just compensation for a stolen song, however Richards and Jagger committed the same punishable act that stripped the Verve of any rights to their song: remix. “The Last Time” clearly borrows from a traditional folk song called “This May Be The Last Time” popularized by The Staple Singers in 1959. [optional] In order to avoid the heavy hammer of American copyright law wielded by the fearsome fist of major music labels, one must refrain from using unoriginal works, but this is a nearly impossible feat. All music references the past, whether or not anyone notices it. As soon as people recognize an instance of musical borrowing, the song makers run the risk massive fines. The only music one is allowed to use without paying licensing fees is that which exists within the public domain. Because of copyright’s bloated state, the public domain is completely outdated. The only loophole within this stringent system is that of fair use. Fair use allows for exceptional use of copyrighted material without permission, as long as the use falls into one of the approved categories, commentary or criticism, news reporting, teaching, library archiving, research and scholarship. The remixes we usually come into contact with are not included within fair use guidelines, meaning the any mash-up you hear was probably created illegally. These musical forms are delegitimized by copyright law, and even with fair use, remixing is criminalized, preventing remix artists from gaining profit or recognition for their work. Modern remixers, like the Verve, are transparent in their use of existing material and are punished for doing so, while remixers like the Rolling Stone’s by pretending to produce purely original work are able to reap massive financial compensation. Legal or not, remixing is inevitable and in order for our culture to continue to evolve and innovate, copyright power must be reduced.
SUPER MASH BROS. by Nicole Wong
Ever since the DJs Nick Fenmore and Dick Fink, otherwise known as Super Mash Bros, stepped onto the mashup scene in 2008, they’ve hit their fans with three albums – their latest project, Mile(y) High Club, was released earlier this year. You’ll hear sound bits from Passion Pit, Drake, Ratatat, Willow Smith, some wonders from the 80s and 90s, and even the Rugrats theme song. Their mashups are guaranteed to keep you dancing and moving all night. No. 15 had the opportunity to interview this power duo and gain some insights in their creative minds. NO 15: What originally sparked your interested in remixing music? Nick: We started just as DJs, playing at parties here and there and not really remixing anything, in terms of sitting down and actually remixing something. We just created the remix on the side, which I think really is where the mashup genre came from- people accidentally layering things while they are playing a live DJ set and finding pairings and things that went well together. But in terms of sparking our interests, Dick and I both influenced each other pretty much as DJs. One day we decided to sit down together, try to put some stuff together, and honestly it was all just for our friends. We never really anticipated making a career out of it. It was just a fun little hobby. 15: What inspired the name “Super Mash Bros”? Nick: We invented up with it before of our heads. No, stole it from the
it. No one else came us. It just came out I’m just kidding- we video game.
15: How do you select the songs you are going to mash? Nick: Honestly, when we started it was based on instrumentally what we wanted to do. We wanted to sample a lot of these fun 80s and 90s songs we had listened to growing up and still listen to. At this point now, it’s ba-
sically sampling everything we ever wanted to listen to. Its more so based around the acapella and the vocal of what we want to do, so its more that we want to use that rap, but we want to use Robyn singing that verse, or you know Carly Rae Jepsen singing that really annoying song. When we sit down at this point, I think its more focused around what work can be remixed with what sound, as opposed to what instrumental. Dick: Earlier on, there were so many songs that were the low-hanging fruit of mashups that were so obvious to use. And now that we’ve sort of used those, we’re now trying to dig deeper into our nostalgic minds to find those gems of songs or moments that make you go “Oh my god, I remember this from when I was 15, and have forgotten about it for 5 years.” We are always hunting for those songs. 4. When mashing songs, how much do you take aspects like genre into account? Nick: I think we try to not use genre as a boundary because it lets us be more creative when we don’t really make the distinctions. At the end of the day, when we are producing something, our goal is to make it as danceful as possible. And a lot of the time, depending on what the tempo is - if its something like a dance beat tempo - a lot of influence production-wise probably comes from the Daft Punk Around the World New House. For us, its more so trying to take a sample and make
it into a dance set. Basically, the end goal is to make kids move. I think the classy new genre is to always make things fun when people aren’t expecting to hear the surprise element of something, like putting the Rugrats theme song with something. Dick: I think it’s almost too easy if you’re taking a rap acapella and another rap instrumental and putting them on top of each other. And same goes with dance music too. There’s no work in that, there’s no thought with that, and then there’s sort of no momentum behind that. And it’s also the way we set ourselves up - as mashup DJs in today’s day, doing dance music and playing a bunch of big house songs with different acapellas here and there. We set ourselves up for a broader spectrum of not only tempo and sound, but of also different fields and genres. 15: Do you ever collaborate with other artists? Nick: We haven’t actually in terms of Super Mash. But I personally have sat in with other DJs, just listening and giving pieces of advice here and there. We haven’t had a legitimate Super Mash Bros collaboration yet and I think we’re pretty much open to it if we just have the right pairing. I think it would be cool for us to be responsible for some sort of remix beat mashup type of thing and have some live artist come sing over it. 15: If you could work with anyone, who would it be? Dick: Probably Prince.
Nick: Okay, you stole my answer. You know you stole my answer because you know I’m the biggest Prince fan in the entire world. Dick: Yeah, but that’s obviously the right answer to that question. Nick: It’s totally the right answer to that question. I wonder what he would think about us playing the computer though. I would probably have to pick up a bass and actually show that I have musical skills before I can get into the computer thing because he’s such a purist. Dick: Yeah, we have to prove ourselves to him. Nick: Yeah I personally would love to work with just about with anyone. I know that sounds cliché and cheesy. But especially in electronic music, I learn from Dick and Dick learns from me almost everyday when we work together. It’s the way you use your tools and your craft. There are so many endless ways to do the same thing on a computer as compared to playing a guitar or a piano where there’s technique. You can pretty much learn from anyone something new in terms of using (software names). These computers are so endless that everyone kind of builds their own: their own voice and their own way of doing things. 15: What’s your opinion on the status of American copyright law and the extent of fair use? Nick: To be completely honest, I’m so not caught up on what is actually going on in terms of the American copyright law – that’s probably terrible for me to say that, being that what I do for a living is probably a lot to do
with the American copyright law and I apologize. But Dick might have a good answer for you… Dick: Maybe, maybe. It does seem a little ridiculous when you have the collective cost of the pirated song and how many songs you can fit on an iPod. It’s like an 8 billion dollar iPod in your pocket. When we have copyright laws that are so high, claiming the values on intellectual property with no physical tangibility, it seems a little distorted to me. And fair use is good, but it seems like it was made for teachers in classrooms distributing copies of poems to their English students. I really value people releasing things under creative commons and newer use policies that promote creativity, sharing, remixing, and the whole culture around that. Usually that’s how society and culture evolve. When things are locked down, nothing new is created because nothing new can come without drawing from the old.
POGO by Shane Konno
“Nothing is entirely 100% original. I think everything is derivative. Life itself is an evolutionary process…”
Nick Bertke, better known as Pogo in the internet world is a remix artist. Sometimes mistakenly looked down on by the music bourgeois, the art of remixing does not always accrue remixers respect, but Pogo’s unique craft has garnered him attention from Pixar, Microsoft and Showtime and helped him accumulate over 50 million views on YouTube. Pogo compiles thousands upon thousands of sound bites from popular culture sources such as movies and video games, and then employs these recordings as notes and chords to compose entirely new melodic lines. Many of his clips come from classic Disney films, yet are nearly unrecognizable after Pogo’s transformations. NO15 got a chance to chat with this 21st century composer from him home in Perth, Australia, about his innovative remix style. NO15: What originally sparked your interest in creating music? What made you choose your specific medium, sound bites from popular culture, as your means of creating? Nick Bertke: My parents surrounded me with music when I was a child. They showed me a lot of musicals, like Oliver, Mary Poppins and The King and I. I would hear all these little sounds that stuck out to me, like the way a certain word was sung or the certain way a chord was played. They resonated with me, so when I started making music in my early teens, I thought it would be cool to record those sounds and use them to make a patchwork of some kind. 15: Could you briefly walk us through your mu-
sic making process? NB: The first thing I need to do is rip a DVD or Blu-ray that to the computer. Once I’ve done that, I go into the surround sound channels of the film and I’ll use those channels to record from, because the vocals are always in the center channel and the music and sound effects are usually in the surround channels. That isolation helps me get the sounds I’m looking so. So I’ll basically just start looking for chords and for musical sequences and any kind of vocals or sounds that stick out to me. It’s usually 3 or 4 days worth of looking for sounds. Once I’ve done that, I’ll take those sounds in my sequencing software and the process is just to let the sounds speak to and inspire me to create some kind of rhythm or melody. It’s just about sequencing those sounds and layering them together to make sense musically. 15: How would you identify yourself? NB: I definitely see myself as a composer. I don’t like the word remix, because it sounds like something a DJ does whereas when you remix a film it’s very much an intricate process. You’re still using notes; they might be recorded from a film, but they are still notes regardless. With them, I compose a melody with a chord structure and rhythm. 15: You’ve produced songs for Disney Pixar, Microsoft, Showtime and the United Nations. Could you tell us a bit about your favorite experience?
major studios, which is not at all what I expected to happen. 15: How do you feel about the limitations imposed by copyright laws? Do you think that the system fairly protects songwriters or unjustly benefits big music companies? NB: Disney Pixar was my first major commission. They said, “let’s fly you over to San Francisco and talk about doing a remix on a professional level.” It kind of blew my mind that following your passion within your bedroom could surmount to something of this magnitude. The Pixar campus was riddled with murals, paintings and banners of their latest film, Up and so we thought we’d remix this film first. I remember asking myself “How am I going to satisfy one of the most creative (if not the most creative) company in the world?” I went on to do Toy Story. We also did Pirates of the Caribbean, which unfortunately never surfaced due to rights issues. 15: Speaking of rights issues, your work usually contains a majority of copyrighted footage. Have you ever encountered legal action due to your use of owned material? NB: There was one issue when I posted my “Bangarang” video, which is a remix from Steven Spielberg’s film “Hook.” Sony Pictures owns the rights to that film and when it hit 300,000 views Sony found it and contacted YouTube to have it taken down. I filed a counter-claim, which is the artist’s way of legally sticking up for himself, and said why I think it’s legal. It’s fair use, it’s free marketing and it’s not profiting off anything. In a few days they had the video reactivated and the Sony claim was dismissed. That’s the only copyright issue I’ve had. For the most part it’s been the other way around. I’ve been approached to do what I do at the request of these
NB: I think it serves its purpose but I also think it’s being exaggerated immensely. As a remix artist, my career is under threat. Nothing is entirely 100% original. I think everything is derivative. Life itself is an evolutionary process and I think that to create some kind of legal system that tries to expunge that is not a good thing for society. My music has inspired a lot of people to express themselves by making and creating. That’s one of the great things about are art is that it inspires the continuation of the freedom of expression. There’s people playing drums to my music, dancing to it, and there’s even people making their own remixes of it. Where would all of that be if laws prohibited our derivative nature? So I don’t support it. We need to reconsider the direction we’re going as a society. Things need to be thought about much more carefully than they are right now.
15
CANDY by Domenico Petralia
Is there anything that reminds us of our youth more than candy? The sweet pain of eating too much, the exuberant joy that comes from such multicolored confection. People say youth is sweet, but we think it is just the amount of sugar we ate--and wore.
Styling: Joanna Gyamera Makeup: Lisa de Plama Hair: Serena Plama Model: Lidi Kochetkova at IMG Milano Casting by Nancy Adjei
House of Holland denim jacket; House of Holland bleach shorts.
Studio 0001 Ferre’ vintage blazer; House of Holland bleach pants; Asos leather court shoes.
Asos jumpsuit; Adidas Originals trainers.
Asos platform pimsols; See by Chloe cutour dress; Topshop lace ankle socks; Tom Ford sunglasses.
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RUNAWAYS by Jordan Tiberio
Styling: Benn Pullis Models: KT Ferris & Benn Pullis
All clothes models’ own.
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FASHION
STILLNESS
IN THE MOVE by Conor Ford
Life has a certain symmetry to it. There is a built in balance that we depend on to function and when something is wrong or we feel uncomfortable with something, we are literally ‘out of balance’. My mind was blown in an organic chemistry class in college, when the professor declare that the universe, beautifully chaotic as it may be, “simply prefers symmetric molecules”. This symmetrical balance, which seems such a natural state of being, is paralleled in cyclical lifestyle of fashion. Over the past several years the popularity of Pre-Fall and Resort or Cruise collection shows has increased dramatically. Designers are seeing a need and demand to satisfy the a ever hungry appetites of consumers who want something new to wear in between the six month spread between the traditional Fall and Spring Seasons. Arriving in stores this month are the Pre-Fall collections designed by some of the biggest names in the industry. Chanel, Dior, and Givenchy, along with more available names like Alexander Wang, are producing these smaller, largely more wearable, capsule collections with our ‘natural state’ in mind. Not only are the Pre-Fall and Resort collections balanced on the fashion calendar, arriving in stores between the Spring and Fall season, but the pieces shown are often meant
for a balanced lifestyle. Where the full on runway shows of Fall and Spring seem to find their balance at both ends of extreme, the between-season collections exist balanced on an even plateau. With an emphasis on practical, wearable clothes, you can really see a designers sense of symmetry and they way they intend it for your life. If the Spring and Fall seasons are the spectacular birth and death of a year in fashion’s lifecycle, the Pre-Fall and Resort collections are what happens in between; they are the life. A life practical and calm, but very much needed and desired.
Pre-Fall collections for Emilio Pussci, Lanvin, and Céline.
IT’S A JUNGLE PLAY THE PART by Conor Ford
It’s no secret that with Ricardo Tisci at the helm, Givenchy has acquired quite the cult following over the past several seasons. Rappers, editors, celebrities, and laymen alike have been (relentlessly) documented donning snarling Rottweilers, seductive panthers hiding behind violets, and graphic geometric prints of jungle fauna. Apparently, we are all ready and willing to play the part in Ricardo’s urban safari. With a recent and interesting evolution, the most enthusiastic Givenchy explorers are looking more and more like the ones you might encounter on your luxe voyage into the jungle. Trekking through the streets of SoHo and countless editorial pages, the devout natives come at you with spiked horns through their ears and ornamental nose rings so large, they cover their mouths. It may seem ridiculous, but these ethnic ornaments are more than meets the eye. Tisci, a native Italian, is famous for his brooding mixture of Italian Renaissance and gothic romanticism. The motifs of life an death are common place in his collection and these almost weapon-like accessories are no accident. Like the lethal panthers and Rottweilers being worn all over town, the hardened accessories are Tisci’s comment on the hardened world we live in. The ‘end’ may be near, and perhaps the newest Bird of Paradise graphic prints are setting the stage for our final Apocalypto.
Septum ring from Givenchy Spring/Summer 2012 Couture and Fall/Winter 2012 Men’s Prêt-à-Porter.
Spike earring from Givenchy Men’s Spring/Summer Prêt-à-Porter; Rottweiler from Givenchy Fall/Winter Prêt-à-Porter.
Lanyard and print from Givenchy Spring/Summer 2012 PrĂŞt-Ă -Porter.
DEBATE
PRO by Tanaaz
Sorbier, Gaultier, Rolland, not all of us find them to be regulars in our closets, yet their styles and attitudes are well known. Fashion has taken a different path than the rest of the arts such as music and film. Its creations are open for the world to see and for all to mimic. Unlike the music and film industries with its thorny copyright laws and patent mines, fashion is an industry where people are free to copy styles. An environment of creative flow and movement without caging barriers of intellectual property protection breeds growth of new styles and trends, within fashion. However, this art form is still an industry and with it comes the business hard bottom line of profits. So, how is it that the haute couture clothing gurus keep their investors and stockowners happy? It is through strategically securing their brands. Trademark laws are applied tactically to ensure the booming of an artist’s talented work and its sales. Dior, Chanel, Valli thrive because consumers know their name and tastes. Trademark and recognition of the designers’ names and logos does more than just boost profits; it also incentivizes these endowed fashion heroes to innovate, create greater masterpieces and skyrocket their talents to a new arena of challenge. The flexibility and feasibility of fashion styles is difficult if not nearly impossible to limit. Unlike their creative counterparts, who are photographers or filmmakers, the elasticity of styles allows for fashion designers to taste and try a plethora of ideas from their peers. This also means that designers are not limited to the high-end, upper class tastings, but have the opportunity to sample street design with its unique palettes and recyclable creativity. Fashion’s mimicry spawns greater exploration of our abilities to communicate our identities in the clothes we wear. The jean and t-shirt attire to wedding dress made of sporks allows for us to shine our personalities as well as demonstrate our relationship to the societies we live in. It serves as the ice breaker for small talks along with the hour long deep conversations of identity. The movement of creativity and imitations within fashion provide a venue for the growth of individual personalities and the mass conglomeration of cultures. It is not a place for patent barriers and copyright bunkers but an arena for flowing creativity and spawning growth.
Haute Couture: Are we allowed to copy?
ANTI by Jasani
Webster defines plagiarism as “to steal and pass off as one’s own, without crediting the source”. Industries reliant on artistic creativity such as music, fashion and film indeed have a difficult time with defining the boundaries of plagiarism. However, music and film artists have gone to great lengths with their army of lawyers to create bulwarks so that phonies do not steal their hardworking creative ideas. It is within the fashion industry that this massive battlefield seems to be lacking on a day to day basis. It seems that fashion designers have gotten comfortable with stealing each other’s ideas and intellectual property. It is no wonder that in this world of fashion there is so much cat fighting and name calling. Artists are facing-off at their penthouse parties instead of the appropriate courtrooms. One might see the lack of barriers as an incentive for designers to continue growing their lines and creating new styles. However, it can act as a disincentive as well. Fashion designers might not want to grow their styles, seeing that others mimic it and credit isn’t given fairly. Furthermore, the expenses in creating new styles are not always recovered since other designers create the same “look” at a lower cost. It is with great speed that red carpet designs are quickly replicated by Faviana and Forever 21. This does damper into the profits of the original artists and harms their incentives.
ART
THE GALLERY
Curated by Rebecca Limerick
Staring at a painting, layers confront you. Layers of meaning, symbology, psychology. Layers of paint. Layers of interaction, time, and process. Carnovsky’s work is characterized by three basic layers. Red. Green. Blue. The blue of a Robin’s egg cuddled in its nest, layered with pine needles, hair, and bejeweled headdresses. Meyoko illustrates the meticulous elements of unknown interwoven microcosmic utopias. You must comb through her details like searching for lice to happen upon a labyrinth of treasure. Her intricate tight-knit worlds allow you to entangle yourself in the space between ink and paper, pulling you into an alternate maze of living. Domenico Cordua is drawn to living although he actively detests the world. Through his artistry he electrifies life with new color and hyperbolic skewing of form. Life is comprised of thick lasagna layers that form dense winding pathways. One day, you will undoubtedly find yourself stuck in the eye of a nasty snarl storm in some little girl’s hair. The only way out is art.
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CARNOVSKY “RBG Scarf Collection� Carnovsky is a Milan-based collective made up of artists Francesco Rugi and Silvia Quintanilla. They are primarily known for their RGB wallpapers that interact with different chromatic stimulus. These wall coverings contain three different layers of color and pattern, it is only by means of color filtered lights that one can differentiate and decipher the red, blue, and green layers. Carnovsky recently put out a collection of large, semi-transparent scarves which allow for their work to embody movement and light in a new way.
“RBG Scarf Collection”
“RBG Wallpapers”
DOMENICO CORDUA “Lanvin Rumbadaboom Boom� Domenico Cordua is a contemporary illustrator hailing from London. Dissatisfied with modern society, he augments his reality through painting ironic, surrealist forms of the people he observes.
“Tsunami”
“Illuminati”
MEYOKO “Unravel�
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Melissa Murillo, or Meyoko, is an illustrator based in Berlin. She uses a Black China ink fountain pen to explore intricate mythical microcosms lush with birds and braids.
“Soupir”
“The Republic of Utopia”
8.3 MINUTES Sestina by Nicole Wong Photos by Marta Giaconne
Is it possible to catch on fire – sunshine? The spirals of incandescently colored cloudsthey glow, they emit, they unravel Like the electrified sea creature below the bluff, its ripples set off the waves like wildfire. A bursting adult from diffracted youth. A brilliantly painted canvas upon which we see our youth, Draped on an easel, smeared with the sweetness of sunshine Youth sits, hopes, for merciful wildfire, to capture the scattered clouds, and swallow the black bluff. The threads of the canvas unravel. Like growth rings that unravel, So does the wrinkled skin of youth. Dark coffee rings stain the bluff, Inherent and inadvertent sunshineits rays smudge the clouds. Ultraviolet flares like wildfire. We yearn for bells of wildfire, For the thermal trigger to unravel. We reach blindly for the clouds, the casual inconsistencies of our youth, projected like pretty sunlight… Disbelief. We call bluff. Our visual tunnel ends with the bluff. The smoky arriving smell of the wild – Fire! We gently grasp the crepuscular rays of sunlight, Clutching the parallelism of light pillars as they unravel. Our youththrust into the clouds. They are not tangible, the white clouds. Just beyond the bluffthey caress our youth. We sleep soundly with wildfire. The oxygen particles unravel, emanating sunlight. Amidst the wildfire, unraveling clouds are set alight. Deep beneath the bluff, youth’s belly cries, suffocating from radiant sunlight.
“Chrysalis” “Chrysalis”
“We Are the Dead”
“Marble”
THE SHAMANIC EXPERIENCE OF CINEMA by Rebecca Limerick
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Twenty-four frames per second, each frame lasting about a fifteenth of a second, paired with an equivalent period of black. The screen is flickering, brimming with tiny voids, yet we don’t detect the gaps. Film is not a solid thing, and the intermittence of film reflects our quivering continuum of existence. A Shaman practices reaching altered states of consciousness in order to encounter and interact with the world of the spirits. A moviegoer enters a dark room hoping to give their illusion of a solid world a chance to breath, these air holes allow for luminosity to suffuse their human experience. In his book “Devotional Cinema,” Nathanial Dorsky contends that we alternate between the poles of existence and nonexistence at so rapid a rate that we cannot recognize it, yet we must accept the presence of the inbetween. In order for a film to be reach a deep truth, it must trust this intermittence, activating and stimulating the viewer’s mind and calling attention to the charged present moment. NOW! In his “Poetics of Cinema,” Raul Ruiz recognizes a certain type of cinema, which treats each segment of the world and the objects it contains on a case by case basis. “Capable […] of letting us travel to the confines of creation through the simple juxtaposition of a small number of trembling images. In this radical impressionism, the never-seen would be in our grasp. The cinema would become the perfect instrument for the revelation of the possible worlds, which coexist right alongside our own.” Intermittence can take the form of zoning out or meditation, any time we can get in touch with a moment of pure nowness, unhindered by the question of existing. When we enter into a room illuminated with images of imagined worlds we risk experiencing this direct connection as long as the screen itself is treated as a self-symbol – that is, it is allowed to resonate as what it truly is and not what it could represent. The images manifested by this rectangle of light should provide us with the storytelling elements of ritualistic Shamanic initiation that allow us to have a collective experience, an experience which renders us all queasy when we leave this dark haven and discover it is still daylight out in “the real world.” But is our reality more solid than our communal experience inside that theater? Mary TrainorBrigham identifies the key goal of “Deep Cinema” as exploiting the medium as to “tell stories that prioritize knowing our life-purpose and thus re-weave our connections to the Cosmos and to Nature.”
There is one film in particular that exemplifies the embracing of these flashes of intermittence in order to foster a direct connection with a deeper truth. Cria Cuervos by Spanish filmmaker Carlos Saura, is a story of a recently orphaned young girl named Ana whose fascination with death and juvenile curiosity allows her to wander fluidly through flashbacks and into illusions. Saura stimulates this vacillation between life and death through his visual treatment of Ana’s dead mother. In a flashback style scene, little Ana rummages through old objects in her house while a voiceover of her older self recounts the story of finding powder that her mother warned would “kill an elephant with one spoonful.” Ana holds the metal box of powder and looks into the lens; the camera pans right to reveal the source of the narration, a woman staring into the lens the same way, who is simultaneously Ana’s mother and adult Ana. This actor portrays two characters at once; her dual role makes her a more transient figure, she is not solid, she does not exist except in Ana’s visions and in a future beyond this film. These two characters meld to become one, and although she only physically existed in past, or, will exist in the future, she is the quintessence of now due to how she is treated by the camera. The dark innards of a movie screening room provide us a space to essentially gather around the fire with our comrades and hear stories of the forbidden beyond. Dorsky claims that, “viewing a film can have tremendous mystical implications; it can be, at its best, a way of approaching and manifesting the ineffable.” Respect for the ineffable is vital to faith and devotion; if we all believe in the intermittence of film in connection with an equally gap-toothed life, we will be closer to personal transcendence.
LIFE & DEATH
MY ONLY FRIEND,
THE END
by Milosz Rosinski
Is the end of life really “a beautiful friend,” as The Doors scream it? Or rather, is it an ugly beast – or is it, perhaps, something that actually lacks a face and with it lacks identity? One thing, however, seems certain when reflecting upon death: it is always made of the duality of being and not being – and concluding that death is the pure negation of life. “To be or not to be” – remains the question. The negation of life as life is the only way humans can reflect upon the experience of transcendental transgression against this duality. Still, what death is remains mostly uncertain, which is why the concept of life does not work, and the reason language invented the word death, because it is more than the mere negation of life. Art, however, has allowed us to transgress the boundaries of language into the unlimited unspeakable. If it can speak the unspeakable, maybe art can also serve to experience the unexperienceable terrains of death as non-life. What is an artform that can transgress the conceptual boundaries of this death/life dualism? Through several forms of artistic creation, film mirrors, in its very ontology, the dualist experiece of life/death: film is a form of photosynthesis, and like a sunless earth, without light or life, there is no film-- there is only darkness. Yet, film, through the identification of the spectator with the spectacle on screen, has made it possible to provide us with a clearer image of the very dark grey, of what it means to approach death, the dark friend. Suicide is the only way to physically explore our own death. No other
means of death, and no other utterance has put the dark friend of death in such a fundamental relationship to the self as Hamlet’s “to be”-- A monologue that reflects an embodied stream of consciousness that aims to speak for one self’s identity. This, therefore, makes it possible to transgress the boundaries of one’s own body. This timeless monologue of Hamlet, like no other, embodies the near-death experience through its use of metaphors to the unconscioussness of sleep and the vastness of the sea. A Heideggerian “Being-In-the-world” is weighted against the fascination of letting go of this being and experiencing what non-being may look and feel like. Beyond pure imagination, film adaptations of Hamlet have made it possible to give death a face, to allow us to feel like we know death a little bit better. Death comes not only as a friend, but death, like life, exists within us. Suicide is part of the living body the same way breathing is. It is the deconstruction of the self by acknowledging the loss of one’s body. The mind, though, comes first: death in the form of suicide is the dissolving the self to the state of the uncertain. What this may feel like, what this may look like, is experiencable through the mediation of films. More precisely, such as the numerous Hamlet’s, brings this feeling from the consciousness of the mind closer to the realm of the physical, experiencable realm of the body. The act of being and the subsequent dissolving into nothingness through suicide are realized with the help of Hamlet’s cinematography and mise-en-scène. The duality of life/
death, as light/darkness, is explored through the potentials of chiaroscuro, the use of both light and shade as a representation of a near-death experience. What becomes clearer through the amalgamate of cinematic language is the experience of decomposing oneself: Deconstructing who, what, and why one is through looking at one-self as the other. Through the mirror, as a reflection of the self, death, as the unknown friend, becomes as visible and as familiar as the image of the self is to one self. But with the difference of seeing oneself through a Velazquezian lens: One objectivizes their own body and mind through the eyes of the image-taker. The image of oneself taken from the point of view of oneself. More than being a portrait, suicidal thoughts expressed through mirror scenes, like the one in Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet, create a non-portrait from a non-point of view. Reminded by the mirror that we are always stuck with the mind and body we have, the experience of suicide becomes the journey of the transgression of the most fundamental boundary of existence. If anything, this is what Hamlet has taught us. If only we could ever know what that friendly, unknown terrain is before entering.
Collage by AnaĂŻs Ziae-Mohseni
VIRTUAL SANITY by Andrew Whitworth It is somewhere between four and five in the morning; many dozens of discarded plastic Heineken pint glasses roll across Paris’ Parc de la Villette. Inside the park’s ornate, art-deco Grande Halle, Four Tet is playing a DJ set to a massive crowd of young people. As with most large European festivals, the crowd is exceptionally diverse. The performers however, regardless of origin, are playing mostly homogenous music: huge bass, 1320bpm, and of course, the inescapable cut-up vocal sample. From Girl Unit’s massive 2010 single “Wut” to the James Blake / SBTRKT axis of musicians that have recently invaded the outer sphere of America’s pop consciousness, chopped and manipulated R’n’B vocal samples have become almost jarringly ubiquitous in pop music of all kinds. Back at the Parc de la Villette, Four Tet’s Kieran Hebden is playing Blake’s “CMYK,” a song which draws very explicit samples from Aaliyah’s “Are You That Somebody?” and Kelis’ “Caught Out There.” Blake became famous because of this track, and it’s obvious by looking at the crowd that the song’s vocal refrain draws the greatest reaction from those of us on the dance floor. This is clearly unsettling on an ideological level: artists like Hebden and Blake are gaining considerable amounts of cultural prominence (and, perhaps more importantly, money) off work that is in large part not of their own creation. Which brings us to the recent controversy concerning the rise of “hologram musicianship.” Most famously discussed regarding the Tupac hologram used at this year’s Coachella Festival, artists from Freddie Mercury to TLC’s Left Eye are slated to be represented by artificial visuals within the next year. In Japan, a successful synthesized pop musician named Hatsune Miku has been created; Hatsune consists entirely of a hologram image and a series of computer-generated vocal presets. Many claim that the development of holographic performers represents a sort of death in popular music, the beginning of a slippery slope that will surely culminate in sold-out hologram-exclusive tours by artists like The Beatles or Whitney Houston. I find that these two concepts, vocal sampling and hologram musicians, are innately linked and representative of a larger-scale development in the music industry: specifically, the slow disintegration of the barrier between authorship and product. The mindset that compels Japanese youth to spend large sums of money on Hatsune Miku tickets is entirely the same as the one that allows us overlook the fact that Neon Indian’s “Deadbeat Summer” is essentially a really long Todd Rundgren sample. Put simply, listeners are beginning to care less and less about whether the music they’re hearing is “authentic.” While this might sound like the kind of attitude that would lead to a terrifyingly soulless, emotionally-void music community, I think it’s a promising development. Becoming okay with the breaking down of musical barriers is, after all, a significant step towards becoming a more culturally open-minded society.
Collage by Ana誰s Ziae-Mohseni
A NEW KIND
OF FRIEND
by Kevin Fuhrmann
Artificial intelligence. It’s absurd, really--the stuff of science fiction. That was true for decades, when the imagination still far exceeded science on the subject. As of today, the gap has shortened. A quick YouTube search on the subject might shock many when they watch an easily accessible video of a regular human holding a sustained conversation with, well, something not human. But is that really the case? It could just be the illusion of putting a synthetic face atop a series of wires and rods, but there seems to be something more. It really all depends on what you consider to be human life. There is the purely biological interpretation that most certainly excludes artificial life from the definition. After that comes the function of human life: to act, to learn, to build. Today’s technology and future prospects give robots a lot more credit in that respect. Things become much more complex once the idea of humanity comes into play. We call it a “soul” and hold to to be something sacred that sets us apart from everything else, but it might just be programmable. One such example moves back to the realm of science fiction with the upcoming film Prometheus. The film has yet to be released, but with several viral clips and background knowledge of the thirty year old Alien franchise, David the Android (played by Michael Fassbender) makes a special case for artificial intelligence. The first film, Alien, provides a relatively cursory glance at the boundaries and melding points be-
tween human and robot. He (“it”) can behave humanlike enough to move about undetected as well as it can remove itself from the restraints of compassion and complexity. With David the Android, Prometheus director Ridley Scott elevated this complexity. David is kind and carries out his day to day tasks as any human would. The uplifting score is juxtaposed with an undeniable sense of heartbreak. He looks at us straight on, tightening our connection to him as he talks about what makes him sad, curious, happy. We are confused, and that is so important. How can we empathize with a piece of machinery? In what could subtly be the subtly important statement on artificial intelligence in our time, David produces tears as he declares an inability to feel emotions, despite understanding them. Watching someone cry is remarkably unsettling, but are we really watching someone cry, and if we are not, can we disregard our own reaction to it? There is no secret of David’s programmed emotions, but maybe human emotions are just as programmed. The conflict of emotion does not yet face us in reality, but we are close. Today’s robots can not only learn, but understand its own setbacks in the process of learning. They can change demeanor, adapt to various environments, and speak about as eloquently as a person speaking a seond language. This behavior may not equate to life, but it feels very close to living. As the years go on and technology bolsters, we may have to reevaluate not only how we interpret artificial life, but how we interact with it.
Collage by Ana誰s Ziae-Mohseni
MICHA CARDENAS
by N.M. Rosen
The first time I saw Micha CĂĄrdenas, I was up in a re-claimed military bunker in the middle of the night on Mt. Soledad, in La Jolla. A group of students had turned it into an art and performance space that was filled with possibilities for creation that I had never imagined possible. Being there was my first time performing in public in a long time, and the first time I had ever done improvisational dance in front of a (nontraditional) audience, and Micha was there to witness it. We met again when she guest taught a class of mine called Trans Performativity. We did exercises from the Theater of Oppression, and she shared video of her performance, “Becoming Dragon.â€? We met once again at the LA Transgender Festival, and discussed our shared love for dance. When she contacted me about working on a performance utilizing a new form of technological communication she created, I jumped at the opportunity. Micha is an artist, activist, and theorist all in one. Her new book, The Transreal: Political Aesthetics of Crossing Realities, challenges the ways that we conceive reality as singular, and explores the ways that transreal aetheitcs overlap with multiple facets of reality in order to create a truer identity.
Micha Cárdenas performs “Becoming Dragon”.
THE INTERVIEW
NO15: Beyond being a tool for identity itself, how do you think technology alters the identities that people consider to be “real identities” or non-virtual identities? Micha Cárdenas: There’s this really good essay called “A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist-Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century”, by Donna Harraway who is a biologist by trade and a feminist philosopher. In that essay she says that the barrier between humans and machines is totally breached, and the barrier between humans and animals is totally breached. But she was writing those things in 1985, so this came out long before cell phones were widely accesable technology. She’s already saying in 1985 that the line between us and out devices is not very clear. And today, we totally take for granted that we can know when our loved ones want to contact us by feeling a vibration against our leg.
So, what she says in that article is really important to me: she says that any simple notion of identity is basically obselete. A lot of other contemporary theorists agree with her, and a lot of queer theory is also this challenging of rigid binaries, like male or female, and even challenging catagories that gay, lesbian, or transgender. Queer theory works to blur those boundaries. Technology does this for us in a lot of different ways. To keep using the example of the cell phone: they provide a way of knowing things beyond our bodies and provide us possibilities possibilities for pleasure that are outside of any simple catagorization. “I’m attracted to people who have the same gender as me.” Or what if your attraction is for latex, or bondage. All of those things are technologies that don’t neccesarily fit into catagories like lesbian, or gay, or bisexual. 15: You’ve explored some of these ideas in your work, “Becoming Dragon,” which I saw and it had a great impact on me, which I why I was so excited to work with you. It really got me thinking about how technology can be used as tool to explore the meaning of identity or the myth that identity is unchanging. I found your exploration of virtual life very interesting, in terms of people creating their own identities that existed in this virtual world, which may or may not reflect their identities outside of the virtual space. Nonetheless, they were identities, connected to individuals. What do you think the relationship of virtual identity and non-virtual identity is? MC: For me, I actually find that I go back to psychoanalysis when I think about these questions, beacuse they were some of the first to really break down identity and say that it’s not so simple. Freud and Lacan were both writing long before Donna Harraway’s
essay. And Foucault talks about Freud’s idea of the unconcious as being really important for expanding the idea of what it means to be human, or to be a person. And I agree that what Freud was saying was that we don’t know what we are or what we want. We might think that we want something and we might say verbally that this is who I am and this is what I want, but their are unconcious drives and desires that underlie those statements. And they aren’t so easy to identify, or discover or get at. So, even though, in many ways Freud was a homophobe and misoginist, in a lot of other ways, his work is really queer. He even said, in a lot of places that being homosexual was not an illness and shouldn’t be catagorized as such (though he didn’t use that language). More importantly, after Frued came Lacan, who talks about three levels of reality, where he talks about the real, symbolic, and the imaginary. This really important to me in thinking about virual identities and when I was doing “Becoming Dragon”, I was reading and writing about Lacan, and I think what he says in really important. He differentiates between the real, which for was was this material experience of your hand touching the desk and there’s something happening there. For him, that’s before language, that’s not even something you can understand, because it’s just pure material existence. Then the symbolic, for Lacan, is the level of language, so all the words we create for ourselves: male, female, gay, straight. Or teacher, activist, professor, journalist, artist, whatever. And then on top of this is a level of the imaginary, which is this the INNER THINGS we have about ourselves. So for him there are these three levels of reality and in our daily experiences are are swapping
out those levels are we are never really in just one of them, rather, we are rapidly shifting in between all three of them all the time. So for me, this idea of virtual identity is not so separate from our real identity. I think that even ourside of our virtual lives, in our everyday lives, we have many virtual identtiies that we step in and out of all the time, which are closely intertwined with what we might call a real identity. In my book, The Transreal, my argument, which is based on “Becoming Dragon”, by now, in our time, there is a multiplicity of reality, there are lots of levels of reality that we can and do constantly move between. So not just three, as Lacan says, but lots and lots. Our ideas of ourselves actually inform our actual experience of the world. And that was a lot of what Becoming Dragon was about, thinking about identity in transition and thinking about how we are permanantly in transition in a way, and how that breaks down any simple notions of identity. I was interested in the concrete effects of how, if you happen to be a transgender woman, like me, you are using second life to play a female avatar that has the ideal body, then what is actually happening there? If that makes you feel good, or you see someone in second life that you feel attracted to, what does that mean? That you performing this virtual identity has an effect on your real self and your real desires. I think that’s similar with all the things we have ourselves, like what if you decide you are transgender or decide you are male or female, or student, or whatever, then those things start to shape your ideas and your feelings. 15: I agree. I think it’s amazing how much we can really explore our identities in terms
of not being something that is concrete or unchanging. Indentity isn’t neccesarily inscribed on the body, but it is something that we do. Which kind of implies that we have some conciousness about it, but not all the time, of course. MC: When I was thinking about Second Life, I was imagining these people who might have a richer virtual life than they do in their non-virtual lives. There’s a lot of negative connotations associated with that, but, taking into account what we have been talking about, there isn’t that much of a difference our virtual identities and our non-virutal identities. As I think about my relationship to say, Facebook, we all get to control what we look like on facebook, and some people find safer spaces within virtual worlds than they do in nonvirtual worlds. It feels like at least for me that moment we are in right now is that people’s identities are beng validated when they are virtual, whereas maybe before they were not. What do you think about this specifc moment that we live in, where technology, like our cell phones, have become so important to the way we identitfy ourselves, the ways we communicate with people in terms of our ientity? In some ways, the possibilies for virtual embodiment, whether it’s Facebook or Second Life can be a really good thing. It can be a way to find communities that are hard to find face to face. Like when I was doing “Becoming Dragon”, I was surprised by my meeting a lot of transgender people who lived in different parts of the world. Some of whom came from really small towns, and were experiencing their only transgender community through Second Life. That was partly a surprise to me because of the way Second Life works. In that space you have this virtual avatar, a lot of
the time there is no discussion or who you really are. So being transgender in Second Life is almost a non issue-- it’s just people being who they are. But even in Facebook, which I see as a performance of identity, like you said, you can choose what you look like, what you say about yourself, and what you share and don’t share. And even in Facebook I found groups or communites. I found one, Queer Femmes of Color Group, which I found through a friend, and it’s a group that when I first discovered it, I would read it every day. Because I don’t really have 50 real-life, everyday, Queer Femmes of Color to hang out with daily. 15: Absolutely. Something we are looking at this issue is how the life cycle has become blurred: this boundary of death is being transcended through technology. I’ve been doing some reseach on what happens to peoples virtual worlds after they die, but there is also this other side, the act of being born, this act of creating that we get to explore in this virtual space. Do you think the existence of virtual identities that have become so strong in our lives, do you think it’s enough to say that a person dies, but their facebook will exist, and thus a part of their identity remains unchanged, and by extension, are people adding to their identities when they create a virtual identity, as a prosthesis onto the life cycle? We continue to exist after death, because of technology, in ways that we didn’t before. MC: Yeah, the first thing I think of is Anne Balsamo, a professor at USC, who I saw talk about her trip that she took to Hong Kong, and how she worked with these students who made an online journal, and one of the articles that a student wrote about were about these “iPod Memorials.” Certain parts of Hong Kong are running out of physical space for burying people, so the government is really encouraging peo-
ple to buy iPods and have urns with an ipod video memorial about the person. But also recently, I was forwarded this email from a friend, and it was an email from another professor who had actually died a few years back. And for me it was such an uncanny experience. This reading of an email of someone who had passed. I think it’s because I read email all the time, and I associate it with people who are living. But I guess it’s also because visual technology has this way of presenting itself as timeless. When you read an email, it’s not like aged and torn and weathered like you might see on a letter from someone who lived a hundred years ago. There is nothing to indicate that it is old. I think that visual technology has this way of complicating time, in a really interesting way. And it happens in lots of different ways. Theorists like Jack Halberstam have written about this idea of queer time and queer space, that there is something that we can call queer time and space, as separate from straight time and space. And so, a lot of contemporary theorists are working on this idea of there being multiple times. We don’t just inhabit one time stream, but that we inhabit multiple timelines. So that really complicates a linear progression from birth to death. Having technology helps us to see the complications that are there, like babies that have webpages before they are born, or facebook pages for people that have died, but their wall still exists. Facebook might suggest that person as a friend, because they know somebody you know. I am also thinking about Alexis Rivera, who is a transgender, queer, HIV activist who passed on recently who lived in the Bay. She wasn’t close to me, but she was close to a lot
of my friends, and once she passed on, my friends updated their facebook pages to make their profile pictures as pictures with her, posting videos, articles of hers. So I think that in general, the way that our lives are so mediatized, presents interesting ways to live on. So yeah, while people have done that all throughout history, where you might get to read the thoughts of a selected few, of a group of people that others thought were important a thousand years ago. It was mostly rich, white men who were the select few who got to put their thoughts down in books that we read today. But today, it’s like we are all recorded. So much of our lives are recorded and will live on. 15: Wonderful. Well, I’ve already spent more than double the amount of time I was going to have you for, but it is always such an inspiration to talk to you. Thank you for speaking with me. MC: You’re welcome! Thank you for interviewing me. I look forward to seeing it. 77
THE LONG GAME OF DEATH: AMERICAN HORROR STORY by Kevin Fuhrmann Being killed off a television series is usually the last thing an actor wants; with American Horror Story, it usually means a more complex story line. Life and death are as fickle as a single person’s interpretation in the buzzy series. The very concept of death becomes not an issue of mortality, but something else entirely. It is fluid the way perception, motives, and time collide in the anthology series. I was able to talk to the cast about their time on the show and evoke some insight into what the highly unusual characters meant to them. The character of Moira represented much of what the show aimed to accomplish by splitting the part between two actresses. Frances Conroy (Six Feet Under) and Alex Breckenridge (Save Me) share a thirty year age difference, but they acted as the same in Horror Story. Breckenridge spoke about how her “character really brought to light men’s carnal desires in kind of a negative way in many forms, including disloyalty,” classifying her as the femme fatale of our story, and her postmortem state amplifies the behavior. “Moira’s motives were to seduce the men of the house to dig up her body because she thinks that if her body is dug up, her spirit will be set free,” Breckenridge explained. In death, having nothing to lose brought out the most devious modes of action and perhaps even justified them. Moira’s elder embodiment was played by Conroy. She acts with all the prowess of seduction that Breckenridge gets to flaunt, but reveals a darker, if not sadder, side of Moira. Conroy took into consideration that “Moira was a very poignant character. She had a very emotional life and was very involved with families living in the house [over] the years.]” A bitterness emerged in Conroy’s portrayal, forcing the audience to accept her fate in the afterlife as lost and frustratingly stagnant. The opposing nature of Moira’s two incarnations exposed the internal character of men in the show. Those who see her
primarily as a sexual object see Young Moira, and those who see her as more (for better or worse) interact with Conroy’s older self. Creator and writer Ryan Murphy made a horror show containing the usual tropes of spook and surprise, but spent more time delving into the psychology of those experiencing said horror. Patriarch Ben Hermon, played by Dylan McDermott (The Practice), was arguably most tormented throughout the show’s first season by both life and death. The irony of Ben’s occupation as a psychiatrist was an important device in the show. Because a psychiatrist is typified as someone expected to maintain logic and calmness in strife, the fact that bygone spirits reveal so much of McDermott’s character is a commentary in and of itself. The suspended nature of death in American Horror Story does away with finality and instead enforced justice for past offenses. This was especially true with Ben’s involvement with women. The combination of his ex-mistress continuing to haunt him after her death and Moira’s sexual advances revealed his unchanged ways along with the distress that causes him. Confusion over what was occurring and the larger concepts at hand were reflected through Connie Britton (Friday Night Lights), who played Ben Harmon’s wife Vivien. She agreed with this analysis, stating that, “my character representing confusion in the viewer is an astute point. It’s interesting because as an actor, there was a part of me that didn’t know if I wanted to be the vision for the audience or not, but at the same time, it felt right to the show. It was important for the audience to have that accessibility to the show.” This element came through in that many typical spooks of the genre occurred at her expense, the most memorable being Britton’s exceptional scream when a microwave explosion startled her already frightened state. The idea that Vivien- and human-
ity as a whole- have little to no control over death and its consequences is a powerful one driven home by her tumultuous marriage and rape-induced pregnancy. The only character in American Horror Story who seemed to have some understanding and control was Constance Langdon. Jessica Lange recently won a Golden Globe for the role. Though Constance remained living through the story and has a long history with the house, she was quite familiar with death. Lange mentioned that Constance “being from the south and kind of a failed beauty queen starlet with a lot of disappointment in her life and falling into hard times” had a lot to do with her character. Her ambitions died before she became acquainted with the house, and her role as a mother made death an even larger presence in her life. When Constance’s daughter Adelaide died during the show, it caused much of Constance to surface. Her past of vanity cause Constance to be quite cruel to Adelaide, who suffered from Down’s Syndrome. Lange felt that her character was, “a throwback to another time where we were not, as parents, quite so supportive. If you’re not pretty, I’m gonna tell you you’re not pretty. If you’re retarded, I’m gonna call you retarded.” Humor aside, Adelaide’s death revealed her to be fiercely maternal in a manner only hinted at during Adelaide’s life. The fact that Constance went on to stop at nothing to steal Vivien’s unborn child demonstrated that death turned Constance into a remorseful woman attempting to cling onto something already lost. American Horror Story is an anthology series, meaning that even though some actors will return next season, the story and location will be entirely new. The characters discussed were finite in their relationships with life and death. Each of them impart something different about the subject, yet as a whole, they speak to an ongoing theme of agony, loss, and confusion surrounding death.
EXISTENCE by Alejandro Parra
Model: Maria Nicola Mathioudakis
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PASS ME BY
Styling: Conor Ford Model: Sam Fuentes
LEFT: Vintage sunglasses. RIGHT: Burberry Prorsum shirt; Atreyu t-shirt; Custom Levi shorts; Vans shoes; Marc by Marc Jacobs hat.
Ever striped shirt; Costum Levi shorts; Dior Homme shoes (previously pictured).
LEFT: Andrew MacKenzie demin jacket; Ever sweatshirt; Calvin Klein tank; Marc by Marc Jacobs plaid shirt; Model’s own jeans; John Varvatos boots.
LEFT: Andrew MacKenzie demin jacket; Ever sweatshirt; Calvin Klein tank. RIGHT: Marc by Marc Jacobs shirt; AngnĂŠs B demin shirt.
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RIGHT: RVCA sleeveless button down.
Kevin Nguyen Editor-In-Chief Melissa Nguyen Managing Editor Kevin Fuhrmann Director of Visual Content
THE
STAFF
Conor Ford Fashion Editor Natalie Rosen Features Editor Shane Konno Music Editor Rebecca Limerick Art Editor Alina Dyndikova Writer Tanaaz Jasani Writer Mina Riazi Writer Milosz Rosinski Writer Shelly Yo Arts Coordinator Alejandro Parra Video Artist Rebecca Chien Marketing Robert Nguyen Marketing Anthony Hoang London Correspondant Leandro Marcelino London Correspondant Marta Giaccone Milan Correspondant Anna Li New York Correspondant Marine Laurent Paris Correspondant Aymeric Luczkiewicz Paris Correspondant
VOL. IV