NO. 5 - RESOUNDING by The Collective X Liberation

COLLECTIVE X

NO. 5: RESOUNDING

WARNING: MAY CONTAIN REPRESENTATION NOT REFLECTED IN MODERN MEDIA. CONFRONT PERCEPTIONS BEFORE READING.

acknowledgements Closed mouths don’t get fed — or so they say.

MODELS ALEXANDER ESHELMAN CHIOMA ILOEGBUNAM LEILANI LATTIMORE JONATHAN CHIN CHEONG NWAKOSO EDOZIEN ALEXANDER SCHAEF JALEN WISE CAROLINE JOHNSON RISA SUNAKAWA LIBBY BROTHERS AALIYAH DANIELS TAYYABA ALI ARIANNE SEENAUTH MARAH SELIM

Your mouth may be closed because you are being forced to feed on something else. Some mouths are closed because they’re already eating. You call it listening, but there are many ways to reach the same goal: written language, body language, sign language. You navigate the world on hearsay, but how often do you think of what is left unsaid? Why is it neglected? Silence is not the absence of thought. It is the loudest reflection.

EXECUTIVE BOARD JEE YEON KIM KEMBA COOPER LEAH ESH AUDREY SIAW-ASAMOAH LEILANI LATTIMORE ZACHARY HANOYAN NICHOLAS RAHIM TAYYABA ALI NARKLIE GERVIL KARINA GUO SOCRATES ESPINAL

There is no Collective without the creative. To our contributors, models, dedicated photographers, and the executive board, patient as ever, You deserve a resounding thank you. Kemba, Co-President

contents

Created by Collective X â&#x20AC;˘ 8 songs

TITLE

+ melodramatic partygoer photographed by Leah Esh

+ a drop in decibel

photographed by Leah Esh

+ yes, iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m changing

photographed by Leah Esh

+ waves

photographed by Leah Esh

+ sound sensitivity

photographed by Nicholas Rahim

PAGE

5 8 12 19 23

+ fashion features

+ sound features

+ eboard playlists

Melodramatic Partygoer

By Laâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Treil Allen

Makeup: Lora You, Mina Huh

It started off with a Big Bang The reverb rippling my skin breaking bones And stretching muscles I had never used before Sweaty bodies everywhere but on the floor Newly free minds being shaken to their cores And this was all just the opening act House shaking Mind aching As the speaker’s vibrations pierce every part of my body And it feels naughty But I like it Echoes of songs I now wish to forget Still linger in my mind just as questions of why I ever stayed Friends move in synchronization to an off beat rhythm As I ponder why I even showed up with them They’ve loosened their morals to compensate for the loosening of belt loops that’ll occur to a playlist curated to satisfy the needs of one Before we came here we bloomed Yet as we left we withered Was it the people? Was it the smell? Was it the music? Or am I just a melodramatic partygoer

a d r o d

p e

in c i

by Stephanie Carmody

The wooden room echoed the glitz and

Old glamour of the partiers inside:

Girls born of chiffon and Boys of silk Who still early in the night and with such vivacity

Put on displays of synchronous greeting. When one voice rung over the other

It was met with the clashing chimes of someone louder â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Voices auditioning for a solo, Egos becoming incendiary

Brassiness contorting into overwhelming collegiate concerto. Air dense but our minds without resonance.

And it stayed that way for many hours until

Barefoot, I stepped over tousled hair pins

Littering lyrical battlegrounds and observed:

The room dimming like a star at the end of its life, Its decibel dropping below freezing.

To stay warm, people leaned in slightly closer,

Allowing them to hear each other clearly for the first time. Without disruption and a care for frivolity Words revealed their true natureâ&#x20AC;&#x201C;

Beauty in harmony As people talked

But also listened. 10

“Yes, I’m Changing” My Music Journey, Then and Now by Audrey Siaw-Asamoah

Since childhood, music has been a constant companion and a source of strength for me. It gave me a voice when I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t speak. It made me feel seen when I thought I was invisible. Throughout my life, when I thought that no one could possibly grasp just how I felt, there was always a song that could. I could always find or play a piece that captured any sense of anxiety, excitement, or fear I felt and saved me. Music gave me the courage to tell my story and my experiences; it helped me begin to understand the complex range of affectations I experienced as I grew into a black woman living in America. In white spaces in particular, musical expression proved to be invaluable in my life journey and in the assertion of my identity. Hearing it, learning it, and ultimately, creating it. Each of these stages in my music journey were incredibly impactful for me and contributed to who I am today. As I grew up, I found myself commu-

nicating what I felt and discovering who I was in different ways throughout each of these stages. As I speak to others that grew up in communities in which their identities were in the minority, they also speak to the ways in which music gave them strength, allowed them to express their unique experiences, and grow into the confident individuals they are today. Through each of our music journeys we found our voice and, later, one another. Hearing It I have always been someone with a song on my mind. Catchy melodies often stayed with me and I found solace in lyrics that described the palpable sting of failure and otherness, or the surge of joy that came with close friendships and romantic love.

In uncomfortable moments growing up, I developed a habit of singing a song I knew, internally, as a coping mechanism. It took me out of the situation for a moment and grounded me in the distinct experience and atmosphere a song conveyed. When I was young, I had less of a choice in the music I listened to because I lacked regular access to a computer or personal music player. Once my parents got a desktop for the home and I discovered online music streaming services, everything changed for me. For the first time, I was able to easily and cheaply find artists and songs I connected with personally. Streaming services like Pandora provided me with suggested songs and artists and I searched for their music on Youtube for free and devoured all of it. When friends came over, we prowled Youtube for the latest music videos of our favorite artists. We would argue about who was

best and what music videos were the coolest. Much of what I listened to at first was very much dictated by the popular hits from the radio mixed with Christian music my family played and traditional West African gospel music. Names like Kelly Clarkson, Taylor Swift, Rihanna, Beyonce as well as Hillsong and Bethel were much of what thought all of the music was. But then something happened and a light seemed to flicker on inside me. As I grew, I realized my music tastes did not have to conform to the music tastes of my peers and friends. It was okay if I disagreed with them on what music videos or musicians were the best. It was okay to stand out and not be like everyone around me. This reality was never a flaw of mine nor a shameful curse. Rather, it was my superpower, my blessing. I had the right to choose my own music for myself and no one could take this choice away from me. 14

With this new understanding of my agency, I began to delve into different genres and artists than what I was used to. I tried on for size pop punk, rap, psychedelic sounds, modern afrobeats, alternative R & B, and even 2000s garage rock. Artists like the Strokes, Lorde, Lauryn Hill, Kendrick Lamar, Vampire Weekend, Runtown, and Lana del Rey felt like friends, mentors, and confidantes.Their words reached me in a very real and personal way. Afrobeats in particular brought me a sense of warmth and joy that reminded me of family visits to the continent in its upbeat, elated sound. This diverse array of musicians and genres each made me move, sway, and jump. Their thoughtful words made me feel heard and understood. This conscious change from consuming the music I was told to love to consuming only what I truly did, very much paralleled my own overall personal growth into my truest self. Any activity I did, whether it was fin-

ishing grueling assignments in my demanding high school or commuting to and from music lessons, after-school activities, and school, headphones were always in my ears. My body was always moving, I was always looking to keep pressing forward through these uncomfortable years toward the woman I wanted to become. I would eventually turn to these artists when my high school years ever felt isolating and harsh: feelings that were so universal, yet at the time made me feel so alone. My environment remained white and American, yet I was changing, and realizing what I valued and experienced was valid and beautiful. When I speak to fellow women of color on campus, they too speak on how finding their own music gave them freedom and their own authentic voice. One of my closest friends on campus, Leah, described to me how her exploration of music led her to her truest self. Makeup: Jee Yeon Kim and Lora You

different set of values, customs, and experiences than my brothers and I. As a result of this reality, my siblings and I uniquely occupied a precarious identity that was shared by no one else around us. Attending school could feel like a daily, miniature culture shock. Maybe first-grade me began to consciously sense these differences and reacted, because this was the year my mother was first told by my teacher about my lack of concentration in the classroom. I remember I often felt constricted and trapped by school during this year, despite getting along with the majority of my classmates. I was beginning to truly note and even fear the dissimilarities between my friends and I and I desperately searched for ways to minimize them and feel normal. Eventually, during a parent teacher conference, my first grade teacher told my mom how piano lessons often improved concentration in students. My mother, recalling how I often sang along, loudly, to Gospel songs on the radio, agreed to look into it. Weeks later, “Honestly, I feel most myself when listening I had my first piano lesson Learning It to my favorite music...before I started devel- and from then on, I was oping my own music tastes, I didn’t know to hooked. Once I learned I I remember my create sounds simiaccess myself. I listen to different things at could first year of piano leslar to the songs I heard, I sons. This point in my different times on different days because the was thrilled and focused. I pieces offer me some truth and comfort about wanted to immediately get music journey rapidly my experience in words that I haven’t been better at reading notes so I changed everything I thought I knew about could play all my favorite able to find elsewhere.” music. For the first time, songs. I wanted to underI was able to understand what exactly went into stand rhythms and time signatures too so I could the music I heard and how complex it truly was. make the notes sound like the songs I loved and Timing, pitch, note reading, keys--all of these heard both in church or on the radio. As the years music theory concepts and more jarringly opened went on, I changed teachers multiple times and my eyes to the new language that music was. My even changed styles of piano. During middle learning process taught me to understand this lan- school and high school, I focused on classical guage and then eventually be able to speak it. piano while in elementary I mostly did contempo I first began my lessons when I was six rary, religious piano. In high school, I worked on years old and in the first grade. The school I was theory and composition. My recital venues, duraenrolled in at the time was small, Christian, and tion, and performance styles naturally changed as white. Conformity was encouraged through school well throughout my music education. Although policies and rules, yet ironically there was no way my piano education evolved in concepts and in some of us would be able to ever truly blend in. practice, one thing always stayed the same: the My brothers and I were one of two black famisense of peace and connection I felt whenever I lies that attended the school at the time and this sat down to play it. All my anxieties about who I fact was pointed out, both indirectly and directly. was or how others viewed me would melt away We were also the only students with immigrant until the final notes faded. I was able to speak parents. Many of our peers’ families had been back, to communicate directly and intimately, with living in this city for generations and had a very the music I heard and loved. I could learn to play Another friend of mine explained to me how music saved her and led her through a period of uncertainty and fear. “I had a tough high school experience… I switched high schools in the middle of the four years, but during this period of transition, I was still on my church worship team and playing in the orchestra... and doing those musical things was the one constant in my life. The times I’ve been able to sing have been the times I feel most connected to myself.” Like both of my friends, listening to and finding my own music brought me through childhood moments of isolation and uncertainty. This overwhelming sense of peace and self discovery both women alluded to is one I am intimately familiar with. As I walked into my the white classrooms and cafeterias, my hair and skin a drastic backdrop against the alabaster background, I sang my favorite songs in my head and held them against my heart.

Creating It Learning the technical, ultimately, then allowed me to learn to create sounds and compositions of my own. As I learned to master new songs, I would experiment with deviating from my sheet music to different chord and note combinations on the piano. This soon led to me creating songs and chord progressions. As I grew more comfortable in this process, I added words on top of it and started singing.I struggled to write much of the music I conceived down and often relied on improvisation based on chord and note patterns I had developed. I had sung before a little in my elementary school and church choir,but I never felt quite confident in my singing voice. Within these moments of songwriting, however, this uncertainty disappeared. I wasn’t afraid. This fearless in my artistic pursuits is something I have since carried with me. It became one of the few things I remained ardently hopeful and optimistic about to this day and I believe songwriting

is what led me to develop this. A few times, I even had the courage to perform my original compositions and the feeling was incredible: I was able to communicate with the world around me beyond just words. It was terrifying but as I played, all the fear and anxieties melted away. A friend of mind on campus summed up the feeling of performing her music, perfectly. I know my life and music journey is still very much beginning, but when I look back on how much fear I used to have--fear of being different or fear of failing--I see how far I’ve come. As I approach my senior year at Cornell, I realize just how much my love of music has played a part in bringing me this far. I see how it is allowed me to remain unapologetically myself: unafraid and full of joy.

“Music, to me, is not just for my own joy, but for the joy for others. When I think about what I’m grateful for...I realize I’m grateful for my voice and the voice that music gave me.”

waves

Caroline Johnson

he crackling of wood in the fire that is your eyes, so dark; so warm, so wavering as the tears ripple along the surface of your iris. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what keeps me alight and afloat as the days melt into one another. I can almost feel the vibration of your heart reverberate through the space that lies between you and me. It is almost as strong as when I put my ear to your chest, but not quite the same. No words needed; only the beat of a heart muffled through tissue, blood, muscle, skin, and fabric against the curve of my ear. Reverberating, circling, washing in and out as a conch shell on the sand, a swooshing sound swirling along the smooth curved tunnels.You remind me of warm summer days. The days where the sun filters through the trees, dancing and twinkling as the wind rustles gently.

You remind me of the days where I would float down a stream, with my ears submerged under the water, my nose peeking out from the surface just so I can take in the thick August air.You remind me of the calmness of the water pressing against my ears, muting the chirping of the birds, the rustle of leaves and the laughter of friends in the distance, just so I could focus on my breath and heartbeat. That calmness is what I feel whenever I’m with you. You center my emotions, you focus my attention, you make me feel at home,with each movement, each breath, each glance. I can hear those very words, “I love you,” you’ve said to me time and time again. This time, however, those very words are reminiscent in an echo that dissipates into a silence. It is that silence that captures an incomprehensible love that could not be confined to three simple words. It is the silence that holds power. I would like to be submerged in that silence with you just as the water surrounds us on a warm, honey lit day.

Direction, Makeup: Leah Esh

SOUND SENSITIVITY

Makeup: Jee Yeon Kim

As a kid, it was like my senses were turned up too high. I felt everything. Certain textures made me nauseous, the lights were always too bright, strong scents overwhelmed me — and I heard everything. The person on the phone across the room, the whispered secrets a few rows back on the bus, my parents conversations downstairs after I’d gone to bed. Even in the silence I heard too much. The subtle clank of the pipes, the creak of the walls as they settle, the whine of the machines left plugged in, the coffee pot, the computer monitor buzzing down the hall. My mom always accused me of eavesdropping, but that’s not quite accurate. I couldn’t turn it off. I couldn’t turn my brain off, my senses. Sitting in a silent room was often too much for me, there were too many sounds, and nothing concrete enough to focus on. These days, my senses have dulled some. But even now, complex music is too much some days. Each instruments, the voices, the beat, I hear each one sharply and individually. Like nails, or chalk, or shards of ice. I can go to a concert and pick out each voice and attach it to its body. One at a time I separate them, almost like a game in my mind.

my breathing to his breathing. To protect my mind from itself, from the world. Aren’t they one in the same? Where does the mind stop and the world begin, anyways. For each person, the world only exists only to ourselves, crafted by our sensation, our brain’s interpretation of stimuli. Each of us sense things differently, and no experience is identical. So aren’t we each crafting our own worlds which exist only in our minds? And how do we know what’s real? But what does it mean, anyways, for something to be real? If you don’t see something the way I do, if something feels or sounds different to you than to me, does that make my experience less real? Or yours? There’s no such thing as a single reality, as a single true, concrete thing. Because of the delay between our sensation and our brain’s processing of stimuli, nothing we experience is ever “present”, but instead is past. By the time the brain processes what it sees, or hears, or feels, our physical body has left that moment in time. We live just a few microseconds behind our experiences.

So I’ve learned to adapt. I turn a fan on to drown out the noise, I sing softly to myself when I’m alone. I find something to focus on, one sound. The rain on the house. The click of the heater. His heartbeat. Lying on his chest at night, I match

“For each person, the world only exists only to ourselves...”

I’VE always been sensitive to sound.

FEATURE CX: What are your pronouns? JY: They/them. CX: How would you describe your personal style? What inspires it? JY: I wear a lot of turtlenecks and corduroys, and colorful eyeliner. I think I’ve always been proud of my uniqueness, so I try to be bold and not afraid to stand out. Style [is] so often thought of as existing on the same plane as having a lot of money. I used to think of it as a crutch. I only wear second hand clothes now, and an even greater variety of stuff can be found [at thrift stores]. I like exploring beyond what I see on my screen. CX: What’s an item you can’t leave home without and why? JY: Lip balm. I really like [it]. I change things up so much that I don’t rely on too many things, but lip balm, definitely. I feel insecure without it.

JAMES YOON 26

Photographed by Karina Guo

Sound Feature.

K U YA Photographed by Leah Esh

CX: Introduce yourself (name, pronouns, role in your group). K: Hi I’m David Cabueñas. He/him/his. I’m a rapper and producer in No-Comply. CX: How would you describe you/your group’s style? What inspired it, and were there any previous iterations to get to where it is now? K: [Our] genre is hip-hop, I don’t really know how you would describe our sound...it’s pretty eclectic. Fashion wise, I think my style is just a refinement of how I’ve been dressing most of my life. Hats, jackets, sneakers. I guess my taste in all that is just grown now, in color, how I accessorize etc. CX: What would you say is special about music as a medium that you can’t convey in other types of performance? K: I don’t actually think theres anything special about music as a mode of communication. I think it can just be some peoples preferred medium, but if anything, music has the ability to make space in ways other mediums can’t..I guess I mean the ways music, for example, always occupies different spaces like shows, clubs, off a phone speaker etc. Even when you listen to music on your own and just close your eyes, you’re always making a space for yourself and others around you.

CX: How would you say your group’s presentation affects your performance/reception? Is there something you wear as a unit that make you recognizable? K: I think presentation always plays a big part on how people immediately receive anything. As performers, I feel like we always took presentation seriously. We’ve done projections in the past, played with various forms of lighting, hung flags, etc. Its about being thorough. It’s also nice to seize the means of production and feel like you have control over something. It’s been years of this shit, making t-shirts, music, running shows, and whatever other forms of media, all that sort of shows our attitudes towards the world, what we believe in, [and] who we are as people. There’s a certain amount of vulnerability in all the things we make and all the articles we leave behind, like being able look back at shit and see growth.

CX: What is special about stepping that you can’t convey through other mediums? P: Stepping is unique in that we do not require music in our style of dance - we make our own beats and sounds using our body and voices. Through stomps, claps, shouts and hits, we are able to make our own “music”

and engage with our audience in a fun, unique way.

N O MP H E N O MP H E

CX: How would you describe your group’s style? What inspired it, and were there any previous iterations to get to where it is now? P: Our style is all about cohesion and looking like a team. Initially, our performance gear included every team member wearing the same t-shirt, black pants, and our signature black timbs. We wanted to add personalization to our gear, so we decided to switch it up and go from wearing t-shirts to wearing jerseys with personally selected nicknames on the back. This way we still look like a cohesive team but everyone has their own unique nickname to add some flair to the look. We wouldn’t say anything really inspired our look, we just wanted to move away from wearing basic t-shirts to something different.

CX: How would you say your group’s presentation affect your performance/reception? P: Our uniform is very distinct - all black everything. Our distinctive black timbs and personalized jerseys already let the audience know that are ready to deliver a exciting performance. While we take stepping seriously, we also like to have fun with our performances by sometimes incorporating skits, music, and other unique additions, so sometimes our expressions are serious while other times we actually look like we are having a good time. CX: Anything else you would like us to know about you? P: Whenever you see a group in black timbs, black pants and black jerseys with the large 97 on the back, anticipate a FIRE and PHENOMenal performance from Phenomenon Step Team!

Sound Feature .

Photographed by Nicholas Rahim

PLAYLISTSPLAYLISTSPLAYLISTSPLAY ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Fridays Are for Freestyles Kemba

Created by:

Title

Artist

Jee Yeon Kim

Created by:

Artist

Big Latto Freestyle

Mulatto

Swan Song

Dua Lipa

98 Freestyle

Big L

Pressure

Muse

7am Freestyle

Future & Juice Wrld

Stranger

Gukkasten

Hunger

Florence + the Machine

Leah Esh

Created by:

Title

Nicholas Rahim

Created by:

Artist

Title

Artist

The Resume

The Chicago Kid

If you think you’re lonely now

Bobby Womack

Night Terrific!

ODIE

Going in Circles

The Friends of Distinction

Allure

Brent Faiyaz

Cause I Love You

Brent Faiyaz

Don't Worry Bout It

Kodie Shane

Kick the Rock! Wild Canyon

SEGA

Audrey Siaw-Asamoah

Created by:

Title

Leilani Lattimore

Created by:

Artist

Title

Artist

Lilo

Japanese House

Wasteland, Baby!

Hozier

Diplomat's Son

Vampire Weekend

Binz

Solange

Frontline

Kelela

Remember Me

UMI

Bagdad

Rosalia

I Gave to You

The Delfonics

Created by:

Title

Zak Hanoyan

Created by:

Artist

Title

Artist

Hopscotch

Opal

Trivia: Love

BTS

Selfish

Little Simz

Bad Boy

Red Velvet

Beam Me Up

Midnight Magic

Bad Luck

Khalid

Hundred

Khalid

Juices

Parallel Dance Ensemble

Tayyaba

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