19 minute read

LIFE

PAGE 14

THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 2022 LIFE

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OLD GOLD & BLACK

Adam Coil, coilat21@wfu.edu Josie Scratchard, scraja20@wfu.edu Anime Convention provides a much-needed outlet

The event acts as a place where fans can display their interests without fear of judgment

BELLA ORTLEY-GUTHRIE Staff Writer

A sea of vibrant red, purple and yellow hair is visible at Winston-Salem's Benton Convention center. Adolescents, adults and families of mixed ages weave in between each other — some wield intricate silver swords, while others adorn glittery wings on their back. Upon walking into the convention center, some might think they had stepped into another world. In a way, they have — this is the distinct world of an anime convention.

The Triad Anime Convention ("Triad Con") meets from Mar. 18-22, drew attendees from across the Piedmont Triad. Anime is a style of animation originating from Japan marked by distinct colorful graphics, flashy storytelling and rich characters. Anime acts almost as a sub-set culture with an extensive fanbase and community.

At these anime conventions, cosplayers, fans and artists gather because of their love of the genre. However, because of this unique subset of culture, anime is often criticized and stigmatized, called out for being childish, weird, and even “satanic”. What the stigma fails to recognize is the community and freedom that anime conventions provide. It's a place in which people from all backgrounds and identities can come together to reckon with the best and worst parts of themselves.

Descending the escalators inside the convention center, tables line hallways leading to game rooms, expo rooms and dealer rooms. People crowd together outside the rooms and along the hallway walls — some posing to take photos by the entranceways and others awaiting entry into talks with guest artists. Service dogs accompany cosplayers, and groups of friends sit in corners of the long hallway, watching videos on their phones and talking.

Three blocks south of the Benton Convention Center, away from the convention hub and near the Milton Rhodes Center for the Arts, is a jagged rock pavilion. Lined with concrete steps and open in the sunlight, it’s a place in which people take prom photos and displaced citizens sleep for the night — but it’s also a place where anime cosplayers meet.

Posing on the rocks stood ten cosplayers. The cosplayers helped each other pose for photos, straightening each other’s robes and pushing back wigs against the harsh North Carolina wind. Sounds of laughter, Tik Tok references and compliments filled the space. Upon first glance, everyone seemed like life-long friends, but in reality, this was some of their first times meeting each other.

Of the ten cosplayers, I spoke with MC, Vi, Imani and Hannah. MC and Vi were Winston-Salem natives and siblings who created an Instagram group to find people to join their cosplay group for Triad Convention. They stood beside each other, smiling and looking at the cosplayers around them. Besides MC and Vi, the group had only communicated in the months leading up to the event through text messages. However, no one could tell that, because they all blended seamlessly — a cohesive family. They watched out for each other — making note if a fellow cosplayer was off to the side or seemed tense. MC and Vi stood close together, helping each other with costume snags and keeping an eye on the time before heading back to the convention.“Can I take a photo with you?” A young boy asked, approaching Vi and MC.

Everyone looked like superheroes, especially MC. MC, dressed as Shinobu from the anime “Demon Slayer”, donning a white cape with decorative butterflies.

MC started attending anime conventions in 2017, buying their costumes mainly online. Now, they make a variety of their costumes on their own like their Shinoubu costume with an intricate butterfly clip crafted from a PBC board and spray glitter adhesive.

“I highly relate and identify with this character,” MC said. MC relates to Shinobu in being the protective sibling and keeping their family together. MC said that coming as a group to an anime convention is special and brings them a sense of power.

“I feel powerful. It feels like wow …we’re living our best life,” MC said. And they do look like they’re living their best life with MC and Vi looking happy, confidently posing for each other and the camera.

Vi stood next to MC dressed as another character from “Demon Slayer”, Mitsuri. Vi — an eight-year veteran of anime conventions — dressed in a white overcoat with a braided pink-and-green-streaked wig. Mitsuri is often made fun of for her looks and eating habits and often restrains her eating.

“I think it’s a nice message — to eat and just be yourself. I just want to tell her: eat, girl, eat!” Vi said. Vi later said that Mitsuri is really self-conscious like herself and that cosplaying gives her the confidence to feel and act free.

“Like Mitsuri, I need to tell myself to eat at times. Like, if I want to eat, to eat,” Vi said.

To the right of MC and Vi stood Imani, another cosplayer and South Carolina native dressed as Tokito from “Demon Slayer”. She stood beside her partner Damon, who was cosplaying as Tokito, wielding a samurai sword. Triad Con makes her 25th anime convention. “In my real life, I like having fun, but feel kind of standoffish at times, like quiet and to myself. And that’s the same with this character,” Imani said. For Imani, the anime convention acts as an open space, one where making friends and being herself is easy.

“If you don’t know anyone at an anime con, you can literally go into the video game room and start playing a game with somebody or literally scream at someone for liking their cosplay and knowing their character — and then build it from there,” Imani said.

Sitting on the rocks across from Vi, MC and Imani was Hannah, cosplaying as Sketchy the Fox from the anime “SK8”. She sat on the concrete with her hands running through her hair.

“It’s such a great atmosphere — especially for people who can’t be themselves at home,” Hannah said, her black eyeliner glittering in the sun.

For MC, Vi, Imani and Hannah, there’s a pattern of acceptance that comes about through cosplaying. Victoria Albarn, one of the head organizers of Triad Anime Convention aimed to make the convention not only accepting of the attendees but to extend this motion of inclusivity to the volunteer environment, as well.

“Usually the way that it works is that anime conventions end up too much like a business. And it makes people feel like their voice isn't meant to be heard if they have a suggestion, or if they have a problem. And we're an anime convention — we're a bunch of people who've usually got bullied anyways, but we don't want people to feel like that in a space like this,” said Albarn.

The workers at the convention aspire to facilitate a welcoming environment with volunteers stationed around the convention center — attentive to the needs and cosplays of attendees and complimenting each other’s costumes. “And so we always try to kind of look around and if we'd see somebody who may not be feeling the most welcome like if they didn't come with friends … and you can kind of see them standing on the outside. A lot of our staffers will say things like, ‘Hey — question — do you like to people-watch? Do you want to do a badge check with us because, usually, we have two people indoors?’ We want to make sure that this con stays a place to make friends because it's such a niche community,” Albarn said.

The convention’s niche community aspect brings all humans together to celebrate their love for each other and anime. Walking around the convention center as an anime novice, I was in awe of the costumes and how cosplayers emulated specific details in their costumes. Cosplaying provides people a sense of agency — it gives them the means, power and space to express themselves and explore their identity. It provides a space for individuals to step back and view themselves through another lens and grow self-confidence to not only love others but to accept themselves.

In the hallways of the convention center, a group of cosplayers stood clustered in a circle. A man stood taking photos of another man in a wheelchair. The man in the wheelchair was decked out in a silver costume — his arms and legs detailed with silver spray and mechanical designs. With the help of his friend at his side, the man sitting down pressed a button on his chair, enabling himself and the costume to stand up in full form — a silver transformer-esque figure. Pride beamed across his face as people complimented his costume.

What I realized at this moment was that it didn’t matter if you knew the anime or not — people and children stood in awe at the superhero in front of them. This moment encapsulated the spirit of the anime convention and community — that while the anime characters might be fictional, they offer the power for anime lovers to become superheroes.

Bella Ortley-Guthrie/Old Gold & Black

Cosplayers Dama, left, and Imani, right, dress up as their favorite characters from different animes.

'Morbius' flops in eyes of both critics and the public

The latest Marvel production sparks wave of hilarious memes

BEN WILCOX Staff Writer

“Morbius” is an act of hubris. After facing many setbacks and delays, the Sony/Marvel venture aspires to be an intense character study of two men faced with the challenge of fighting off a rare disease and the lengths each will go to survive. However, it falls short of its goal by a large margin.

“Morbius” is what you get when studios assume they can release anything so long as it could potentially belong to a superhero franchise. They expect audiences to eat it up. “Morbius” is symptomatic of a disease that is becoming increasingly prevalent in Hollywood. The film is not that bad, but it is far from a good movie, even though everyone on set — from Jared Leto to Matt Smith — seemingly puts forward a legitimate attempt at making the tragedy of Dr. Michael Morbius come to life.

The core issue with the movie is the script, which lacks any sort of depth or self-awareness — two things that it desperately wants to try to show off at every turn. There are scenes where Leto’s Morbius struggles with the curse he has brought upon himself that are smushed together with Smith’s character goofily dancing around, enjoying his new disease-free body.

This is also supposed to take place in the same universe as the recent “Venom” movies, but based on the two drastically different tones and characters, it is nearly impossible to imagine that the world Venom lives in is the same one that Morbius inhabits. All of this is part of a greater effort to potentially construct a larger cinematic universe where the rogue gallery of Spider-Man villains teams up for a future “Sinister Six” movie.

It feels like we are due for a movie like this one every five years or so, where a studio wants to force all of their iconic characters into one movie, regardless of whether or not it makes any sense. Sony has already tried to do this — and failed — by stuffing “The Amazing SpiderMan 2” with villains and easter eggs hinting at a “Sinister Six” movie on the horizon.

Then, in 2017, Universal attempted to set up their “Dark Universe” of monster movies with the Tom Cruise-led “The Mummy.” It’s the perfect example of Hollywood putting the cart before the horse. Instead of trying to find a unique tone and vision that will keep audience members entertained, these films opt to play to the lowest common denominator and come off as lazily-made, “color-by-the-numbers” features.

A bright spot in the gray cloud that is “Morbius” is the endlessly entertaining role in meme culture the film has played online. From being the “Batman movie for real adults” to “becoming the first movie to sell a trillion tickets,” the “#MorbiusSweep” being promoted online is everything that the movie should have been.

It is ludicrous that this movie could even be considered a major release from a major studio — and the tone of the movie should have reflected this. Instead, what shows up on screen is a dark and dreary mess that doesn’t know whether it wants to be a serious drama about a man who can’t control the curse he brought upon himself or be the quippy, empty meal that most Marvel movies have become as of late. It’s a forgettable movie that I’d recommend skipping for now.

Photo courtesy of Forbes

"Morbius" fails to live up to audience's hopes of success.

Contact Ben Wilcox at wilsui20@wfu.edu

DOOM and Dilla: Paving a path for underground hip hop

FINNEGAN SIEMION Staff Writer

Everyone knows gures like Biggie Smalls and 2Pac in the rap industry as well as the braggadocious lifestyle of mainstream rappers and the chart-topping hits from Drake every year. e trap beats with repeated syncopated hi-hats make an appearance on nearly every hip-hop track heard today. Auto-tune vocals, laughably large chains and an abundance of colorful sports cars surround the culture of mainstream hip hop. Yet, these mainstream characteristics do not encapsulate the entire scope of hip hop.

If you look beneath the surface of mainstream hip hop, you’ll nd an underbelly of artists and sound that embraces going against the grain — led by a comic book supervillain who relentlessly raps about food, rapping without a chain and about the perception of time. If you do not know who I’m talking about, you are probably not alone. e masked rapper/producer MF DOOM has solidi ed his name in the folklore of underground hip hop while simultaneously paving the way for artists occupying the limelight of the underground scene today.

Ask any underground hip hop fan about MF DOOM, and it is almost guaranteed they will be able to spit a few iconic bars. at’s because while Pac, Biggie and Dre were leading hip hop in the late '90s chasing fortune and fame, DOOM began to make a name for himself by sticking to what he knew best: cartoons, food, fairytale-like storytelling and boom-bap beats.

DOOM released his rst project “Doomsday” in 1999 and attracted attention for his unique style. It was clear that DOOM was comfortable with not chasing a glamorous lifestyle, building his career under the persona of a comic book villain. DOOM created and controlled his image under a mask, giving himself the freedom to shape his character as he wished. What lies beneath the mask is a mystery — you can only use what DOOM provides lyrically and sonically to draft your own perception of what lies beneath the mask. is freedom is rare in hip hop because the image of a rapper is often tied to their real-life identity. DOOM was able to push the boundaries of rap. No longer is it the case that rap is supposed to “sound” or “look” a certain way. For example, on the “MADVILLAINY” track, “Operation Lifesaver: aka Mint Test”, DOOM takes you through a dinner date with a lady who has unbearable breath, and he contemplates if and how he should tell her. His 2004 record “MM… FOOD” uses food analogies throughout to explain his perception of the world. DOOM proved that nothing de nes hip hop — no particular sonic style, topic or lifestyle. And ultimately, I think this is what separates the mainstream from the true underground hip hop.

Not to hate on mainstream hip hop — I still love chart bangers — but there’s certainly less pressure beyond what the mainstream media covers. Every action, song and movement is judged and analyzed by media and fans alike, creating the pressure to maintain a certain lifestyle or sound. For underground hip hop, however, there is encouragement to appear di erent and run astray from social norms. is sense of freedom is a partial driving force behind why underground hip hop is appealing.

Underground hip hop mostly revolves around relaxed, drum-focused beats that use samples to drive the track. Many producers take liberty with sample selections as well, testing the limits of what is possible with sampling. It is often the case that the deeper the sample sound bites are underground, the more unique and talented they will be. Producers will take sound bites from 1950 TV shows all the way to Beastie Boys’ vocals to mix, reorganize and repurpose in beats.

Legendary producers like J Dilla and Madlib revolutionized sample chopping with their distinct styles. Dilla invented the style of chopping records purely to the kicks and hits of the drum set, ignoring overlaying melodies. What emerges is a clean drum beat, giving Dilla the creative freedom to craft basslines and pair vocal in ections for a remixed melody. Madlib is the king of crate digging. He pulls perfect sample loops from records and pairs them to make beats. e quality of a beat can often outshine a rapper’s verse, even if the verse is a solid one. is highlights the importance of hip hop’s two-step process, as no great track exists without both rapper and producer pulling their own weight.

Raised on the foundations laid by DOOM, Madlib and Dilla, artists currently occupying the underground scheme continue to push the limits of hip hop. From Earl Sweatshirt to the rap trio Griselda, sample choices continue to be more obscure and verses continue to evolve in rhyme and ow. As mainstream hip hop evolves with pop culture and TikTok, the hidden world of the underground continues to push the perceived technical and cultural limits of hip hop.

THE HOT LIST

TOP 10 THINGS TO SAY LOUDLY AROUND A TOUR GROUP

1 . 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

"Yeah, luckily I only have, like, three exams tomorrow"

I love it here. Everyone listens to Skrillex

Wake Forest is so eco-friendly... everyone wears the same outfit every day!

Did you hear about that girl that got hit by a hammer last night?

Do you know anyone here that has found joy or meaning in their life?

Yeah, well, all I've had today is an iced coffee

It's too bad Wake Forest has so much mold in the dorms

Administration should really do something about those ghosts in NCA

There's no way our football team ever does that well again, right?

Wayward Fashion

Take a glance at some of the looks from the sustainable club’s latest show

ABBY KOMISKE Staff Writer

The Wayward Fashion Club presented a sustainable fashion show on the night of April 8 at the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art (SECCA), which is across from Reynolda Gardens. The outfits for the show were curated from local thrift stores by Wake Forest students, with up-cycling as the focus for the 70s-themed Funkadelic looks that graced the runway.

A pre-runway event took place within one of the galleries. Wake Forest’s Indian dance troupe, the Deacon Dhammal — whose deep red and bright gold lehengas might have stolen the show before it even started. Afterward, Fifth Son — a student band — gave the audience a fantastic pre-runway performance with two funky songs. After the runway, the audience was invited into an open market for sustainable products — jewelry, purses, leather jackets, knit hats, antique jean jackets — from local artisans and vendors from the Winston-Salem and Wake Forest communities.

The main event of the night was the fashion show, in which the models worked their way around the back of SECCA, strutting down the cobblestone steps and around the audience before circling back into the building. SECCA itself is worth nothing. It is where the museum’s fusion of regal, old southern mansion meets postmodern glass, ceramic tiles and metal to create this valuable and beautiful multidimensional building.

The outfits the models wore were electric, funky and super groovy. Coming from local thrift shops — Cosmic Circle Vintage, Snop Shop, Finders Keepers Vintage, wheresdatfrom and Estrada Upcycled Apparel — the outfits reflect the creativity of Wake Forest’s students. Think of any and every shade of jean jacket, platform Converse, curvy bellbottoms, high and low-waisted jeans and amazing, heeled platforms. Models wore classic white Nike Blazer ‘77 shoes, pale yellow and deep red corduroy, pink plaid, bold and glistening velour — you name it. So many trends were brought back to life, making me think that I was in “The Bad News Bears” or some other non-horror 70s movie.

The show was beautiful, bold and entirely eccentric. Some outfits made me ready to end my bank account once and for all, while some made me thankful that I was born in the 2000s. Either way, the designers matched outfits and looks perfectly with their models, working to create looks that manipulate old clothes into something entirely new.

So, on to my top looks. Opening the runway was a baby blue, elegant ball gown with a sweetheart neckline and short-sleeved ruffles. While the look might remind some people of regrettable prom dresses, this 70s floor-length dress stole the show. It was gorgeous and regal, recalling the 70s’ emphasis on color, texture and dexterity. The model’s entire look affirmed the groovy theme, with her hair and makeup accentuating the vibe.

My next favorite is tied between two very contrasting outfits. The first was a matching blood-red, velvety corduroy set — the pants were just a little flared at the end, and the button-down featured gold and silver patchworks on the chest and upper back. The palm trees, moon and stars were so fun and engaging. The other was reminiscent of my old family photos of my dad getting up to trouble — the model sported beat up vans, high white socks; ripped yellow jean shorts from Levi’s and an orange, red and white button-down. What really made the outfit great was that the aforementioned button-down plaid shirt had sleeves that flowed in the wind as the model strutted.

Another classic look — one that I really think should come back in full — was a model’s brown Converse, white, high-waisted pants, satin orange top and a mid-length trench coat in show-stopping red and white. It bordered just between current clothing trends and 70s throwbacks.

Also, while my mom may tell me jean-onjean outfits really don’t work anymore, I still think there is a time and place to appreciate that bell-bottom and worn jean jacket look, especially with retro white, blue and red Nike’s — like one of the models in the show.

The fashion show was once again a big hit for Wake Forest’s Wayward Fashion Club, which was able to truly showcase how easy it is to buy and revitalize sustainable clothing while having a fun time. If you missed out on the show, just check out their Instagram @waywardfasion.wf.

Contact Abby Komiske at komiak21@wfu.edu

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