Beyond the White Picket Fence
Editors-in-Chief: Riya Mirchandaney and Maya Varma Blog and Publicity Editor: Scott Stevens Content Manager: Katherine Lazar Writing Editor: Samantha Frenkel-Popell Layout Consultant: Lauren Jacques Photography Editor: Avalon Edwards Staff Writers: Kaitlin Hao, Emily Finke, Sylvia Chen, Anna Boonyanit
Contents Letters From the Editors
Farewell, Helena
5
Ethnic Cooking Recipes
Cultural Dance
3 7
9
Profile: Keti Vaka and Jasmine Charles
Classical Music Playlist
Foreign Films Review
Rocky Horror
20 21
23
Kaitlin Hao Portfolio
25
International Music Playlist
28
13
Letters From The Editors
I have always been protected. For seven years of my life, I lived in the middle of Bangalore— a dusty, potholed, beehive of a city—but I spent almost every waking moment in an upper class neighborhood with other expats who wouldn’t dare to attach a “yaar” to the end of their sentences or leave the confines of the apartment clubhouse. I went to an international school that experimented with vaguely-Nueva-esque styles of teaching. I feasted on duty free M&Ms. I had created (or rather, others had created for me) my own little safe haven within the culture and city that were so much more alive and complex than my eight year old brain could ever comprehend. For me, this issue is centered on the realization that you can live in India but still be stuck in Menlo Park. I dare you, and I dare myself, to step outside our comfort zones. To talk to people who haven’t grown up in Atherton or Woodside. To learn about Tswana, Greek, Brazilian, Malaysian, Tongan, and Portuguese cultures. To explore the world beyond the white picket fence. -Riya
My only exposure to the symbolism behind the White Picket Fence was in Blue Velvet’s famous opening scene, where a series of white picket fences enclosed rose gardens and perfect houses that looked apparently innocent. But as the camera moved past the picket fences, the audience could see that the man mowing his lawn was actually having a heart attack, and the surreal green grass turned out to be hiding piles of beetles in the dirt. There’s a certain facade to the white picket fence—the symbol of middle class America, peace, and seclusion—that I find disturbingly questionable. Many of our Silicon Valley homes are cleverly surrounded by these fences, not high enough to block out the rest of the world, but high enough to create an aura of seclusion. The parallel panels of wood spaced evenly apart, covered in clean white paint, leaves a certain sense of unity and equality to the observer. What better symbol to represent the American dream, right? It’s probably true that every culture has a white picket fence of their own, but at Menlo we often seem to forget that there is a world beyond our perfectly manicured, plastic gardens. That’s what this Bard issue is about: looking past the facade of our picket fences to see that our community is more diverse than we think. When David Lynch filmed that opening scene of Blue Velvet, he nailed it on the head. Those fences are easy to hide behind. -Maya
With the graduation of the Class of 2015 comes our farewell to Editor-in-Chief Helena Ong. Fluent in constructive criticism, yet well-versed in the language of management, Helena cared deeply about sustaining the momentum set in motion by our magazine’s founder, Maya Singhal. Helena also pushed this publication forward this year, keeping the writers of the club together as we brought to Menlo stories from artists, dancers, and teachers.
Farewell, Helena By Scott Stevens
She invited us to write with composure about artistic events in Menlo and around. She encouraged new teachers to share their stories, and she helped us find old teachers’ stories buried in dusty desk drawers. Perhaps most important out of all of these were the stories of mental health she led us through in the editing process. The mental health special issue is an example of how this club wishes to voice Menlo’s unheard voices, and Helena made sure we reported on these voices well. She said that that issue was her favorite “because it was one that many students put a lot of work into and it was a risky piece that payed off with a lot of positive responses.”
Reflecting on how she joined Bard as a sophomore, Helena came to the first meeting simply to try it out, but she stayed for the writing. While publishing the magazine, she witnessed the interplay between good writing and editing: “Writing is something expressive, and I find that it’s an art in itself; and I think editing is good practice for writing. It’s hard for me to edit my own work, but by looking at others’, I can spot similar areas where I would mess up as well, and overall, it makes me a better writer.”
Our magazine is Menlo’s magazine, and Helena sought to extend Menlo’s mission to “expand [the] interests” of our classmates as well as our own. Before leaving her community here at Menlo, Helena wants to articulate Bard’s mission: our publication is “for the ignored, the unnoticed, the overlooked.” We wish her luck at New York University next year, where she will be studying international studies and journalism and staking her spot in a new city. We are sure she’ll bring to future publications her organizational skills and her belief in quality writing.
Let’s Get Baked: Desserts From Around The World By Avalon Edwards
Dulce de Leche Ingredients 1 can (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk Âź teaspoon fine salt Directions 1. Heat the oven to 425ÂşF and arrange a rack in the middle. 2. Pour milk into a pie plate and sprinkle with salt. Cover tightly with aluminum foil and place in a roasting pan. Place the roasting pan in the oven and add enough hot tap water to reach halfway up the sides of the pie plate. Bake for 1 hour. 3. Remove the roasting pan from the oven and remove the pie plate. Carefully uncover the plate and whisk the mixture until smooth, about 1 minute. Replace the foil and return the pie plate to the water in the roasting pan. Place back in the oven, adding more hot water so that it remains halfway up the sides of the pie plate. Continue to bake until the dulce de leche is dark golden brown (about the color of peanut butter), about 1.5 hours more. 4. Remove from the oven and transfer the pie plate to a wire rack. Remove the foil and whisk the dulce de leche until smooth, about 3 minutes. Let cool to room temperature, then refrigerate in an airtight container with a tightfitting lid for up to a 1 week.
Hamantashen Makes 36 cookies
Ingredients 1.5 cups butter of margarine 1 cup white sugar 2 eggs 6 tablespoons orange juice 1 tablespoon vanilla extract 2 teaspoons baking powder 4.5 cups all-purpose flour 1 can (12oz) poppyseed filling Directions In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until smooth. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the orange juice and vanilla. Mix in the baking powder, then gradually stir in the flour until the dough forms a ball. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours. I like to do mine overnight. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Grease cookie sheets. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to 1/4 inch thickness. Cut into 3 inch circles using a cookie cutter or drinking glass. Place circles on the prepared cookie sheets. Spoon 1 teaspoon of filling onto the center of each circle. (Any more and it will ooze out) Pinch the sides of each circle to form a triangle, covering as much of the filling as possible. The cookies may be frozen on the cookie sheets if desired to help retain their shape while cooking. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven, until light golden brown. These are best undercooked slightly. Cool on the baking sheet for a few minutes before removing to wire racks to cool completely.
Cultural Dance in Our Own Backyard by Emily Finke and Scott Stevens
s ’ o l n e M f o y h p a r g o e Chor f o o R e h t n Fiddler o Anyone who saw Menlo’s Spring production of Fiddler on the Roof could tell that while there was plenty of movement on stage, it was not in the style of typical dancing that people expect when seeing a Broadway show. Jerome Robbins, winner of five Tony awards and choreographer of Fiddler, has choreographed several legendary Broadway productions including The King and I by Rodgers and Hammerstein, West Side Story by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, and of course, Fiddler on the Roof, with music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, and book by Joseph Stein.
In Robbins’ choreography for Fiddler, a general sense of tradition and pride is evident in every movement made by all the villagers of Anatevka. This shows in the very first scene when the cast comes on stage - arms held high, chins and chests up, circling the lead character Tevye, and continues all the way to the final scene when the villagers are forced to leave their beloved village. Robbins drew from traditional Jewish dances in his choreography in scenes such Motel and Tzeitel’s iconic wedding scene. The couple is lifted up in chairs and circled around the stage in a traditional Jewish dance known as the Hora. This is a celebratory dance that is even today danced at Jewish weddings and Bar or Bat Mitzvahs.
One of the most memorable parts of Menlo’s production of Fiddler was the three characters who balanced wine bottles on their heads and danced slowly and meticulously in unison without dropping them. For the show, Robbins did “field research” by attending Jewish weddings in Brooklyn and observing the way people danced. The famous “bottle dance” was something that Robbins witnessed at one of these weddings and decided to include in the show. Audience members are fooled by the notion that these bottles are somehow glued or velcroed on the hats, but in most professional productions (and in Menlo’s production) the bottles remained balanced on the dancers’ heads because of practice, precision, and skill. Anyone who has seen another production of Fiddler on the Roof may have felt a bit of déjà vu watching Menlo’s version of Fiddler. When a theater company obtains the rights to the show, they also receive a “Choreographic Guide” with all of Robbins’ original dance moves. But Menlo’s production rang particularly true to the original because the school’s Upper School Theater director, Steven Minning, danced in a revival of Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway, under the choreography direction of the legendary Jerome Robbins himself.
a drunken stumble the streets are cold with food, hot quartz’s fused the new’s eyes with the old’s powders. 5 paths to throw the sticks and read how fucked up one can get. xú fú had to chase rabbits pounding the moon, and now the howl for stalactites, failed rock dripping out of minds, green rock glowing in promise of dragon fire it could be locked in a lab or a vault, it could be locked up, locked up, growing. shredded lace falls from the night sky as the court goons float through and think of pentagon eyes, milky and hard to the old and the new.
The Lion Dance As part of taking Mandarin 1 at Menlo, students perform the lion dance around the time of Chinese New Year. Red shiny lishi candies flying, cabbage hurdling at the audience, the lion dance, or wushi (a small example of the color and energy in traditional Chinese culture. Though one can find the paper-wood lion head and the matching fluffy pants in such countries as Korea, Tibet, and Vietnam, Mainland China is the bastion of this festive dance form. Even from the Qin Dynasty (221 BC - 206 BC) are records of performers miming animals to exorcise demons, with bearskin masks, dragon and phoenix mantles, and, eventually, the red and gold cloak mimicking the lion. Because lions are not natives of China, historians theorize that the dance came through the Silk Road from India or Persia. Initially, the emperors and people of China saw the lion dance as a cultural practice of Central Asia, but it gradually became a part of the official, centralized Chinese culture by the end of the Song Dynasty, when the Mongols began to eclipse the empire to form the Yuan Dynasty. Today, there remain the Northern and Southern forms of the lion costume and dance, though some ethnic minorities have other variegated styles, such as the Green Lion of Taiwan and Singapore. Northern Lions resemble Shih Tzu or Pekingese dogs in appearance and movement, while Southern Lions’ costumes more closely resemble Menlo’s own sequined lion head, with a vigorous dance style similar to martial arts.
My experience with the lion dance started when I began studying Mandarin as a freshman. When Ms. Chen held up the heavy head and asked us who would bear it, I raised my hand, not knowing exactly what I was getting myself into. Sean Morgenthaler (‘14), Nicole Henderson (‘16), and I would sweat in the afterschool sun, Sean attacking the drum top; Nicole, as the tail, bent over and scurrying to follow the lion head; all the while I jumped and shoved the head to the left, right, and center. The work was tiring - I could make an exercise program, The Wushi Workout, but our group soon understood the rhythm and the fierce, snapping movements to the lion and drum. A week before the New Year performance in assembly, I suffered a bone contusion on my femur. Yet the group pushed on, and we still pulled off an entertaining performance at assembly. The whole Mandarin 1 class bonded: those not in the dance threw candy and cabbage at the crowd, all together confusing the student body, but reveling in the weirdness anyway.
I did the lion dance again in sophomore year for Chinese New Year. I felt my head twists were sharper, my steps more precise. Ms. Chen in-vited me after the New Year to a Mandarin Speech Contest in San Francisco to compete with a speech and perform the lion dance during the entertain-ment section. Even this year, I returned yet again to participate in the con-test and dance. Shaheen Abkenari (‘15) was the tail, and we were ambitious to do more stunts than I had before. We trained multiple times a week to do rolls, head changes, and lifts, when I would lift Shaheen up while we spun and shook the lion head.
It was strange, slightly nerdy, but fun. The lion dance reminded me of the odd wonder in every culture’s rituals and celebration, and it was an opportunity to see how Menlo students accept these odd wonders. Of course, I occasionally hear my peers disparage this foreign custom or that peculiar accent. But they generally seemed to enjoy the performance, and congratulated me on the work that I’d put into this unfamiliar but animated activity. It was a good example of having fun at our school by breaking down the idea of what’s “embarrassing” or, more precisely, what is foreign to us at first, and doing whatever feels interesting. I hope Ms. Chen will continue the lion dance, celebrating Chinese New Year, as well as welcoming new students into appreciation of a new culture.
The Artistic Duo
By Maya Varma and Riya Mirchandaney
Juniors Keti Vaka and Jasmine Charles seem to be inseparable. Ruminating on their friendship, they tactfully finish each others’ sentences: Keti begins, “our friendship is…”—and Jasmine cuts in with a crisp “complicated.” And perhaps that’s the only appropriate word for any sort of relationship. Keti and Jasmine didn’t meet on their own; in fact, their moms introduced them to each other at the Menlo club fair for incoming freshmen. “My mom was wearing some East Palo Alto shirt and her mom was like, ‘Oh, you go to East Palo Alto,’ and my mom was like, ‘Yeah! My daughter goes there!’ and her mom was like ‘yeah, mine too!’” said Keti, laughing. Their formal, parent-supervised introduction was awkward and uneventful, with Jasmine “just nodding, and not saying anything.” It was the “freshman summer thingy” that really brought Keti and Jasmine together. “Jasmine and I did not stay still. Everyone hung out with each other, but we just walked around the school,” said Keti. Expressive, unapologetic, and adventurous, Keti and Jasmine are an artistic duo at the heart of Menlo.
At first glance, Jasmine seems to be a woman of few words. (“You were actually so shy!” exclaims Keti, “I thought I was shy, but you were so shy.”) But it turns out, for Jasmine, she isn’t stuck with being predominantly quiet or loud—she has a choice. “The day before freshman year, I told everyone my name was Jessica,” said Jasmine. “And she was extremely outgoing!” added Keti. “I say different names, like I’ll say ‘Melinda’ or ‘Jessica’ or whatever but those names are kind of like characters that help me portray certain aspects of my personality. Jessica helps me be more outgoing, doesn’t really give a shit about stuff. And so that’s why I’ll say, ‘oh my name’s Jessica’...” explained Jasmine. Regardless of Jessica, Jasmine is still relatively quiet and humble about her artistic endeavors. When asked about her art, Jasmine insisted, “the real artist should go first.” While Jasmine may not be currently enrolled in an art class, she is indeed an artist. “She’s musically talented, and she’s very good at drama. She doesn’t believe so but she is. She’s also very good at making beats, like out of nowhere,” said Keti, urging on her friend. Jasmine proceeded to create a beat with just her fists on a table. “But that’s not artistic,” she insisted, “That’s just being bored in class.”
Many who know Jasmine recognize her for her eclectic, unique style. Jasmine’s outfits aren’t exactly planned though. Genuinely confused at this recognition, Jasmine said, “I don’t understand. People are like ‘You dress so nicely sometimes!’ I wake up really late, and whatever I see, I throw on. And then I look in the mirror and I’m like, ‘good’ and then I’m like, ‘Dad? This good?’ and he’s like, ‘Yeah!’ I’ll go out and my mom will be like, ‘What the hell are you wearing?’ and I’ll be like, ‘Dad said it was fine, so i’m going!’ Later, people will say, ‘It’s so nice!’ and I’ll be like, ‘Mom, everyone liked my outfit today’ and my mom would go, “They lied to you.” But there is a method to her madness. Describing her style as “everywhere” like her taste in music, Jasmine’s outfits often correspond with her mood. “Like one day I’ll dress emo and other days preppy...it depends on my mood. If I’m feeling down that day I’ll probably dress edgier or if I’m feeling happy I’ll probably wear yellow or pink or something,” she said. In awe, Keti remarked, “I wish I could be like you. I’m just not expressive in anything.” I pointed to the art on her hand, “that seems pretty expressive to me!” Nonchalantly, Keti replies, “Oh, okay.”
When Keti was in preschool, she would draw the same picture of the same house every day. Everytime she’d bring it home, her mom would tell her how pretty it was, and then proceed to throw it away. “We lived in an apartment at first so we didn’t have room to keep all my drawings because I drew a lot,” Keti said. But unlike most preschoolers, Keti didn’t take this as an insult to her artistic talent—she took it as an opportunity. “I was never sad when she threw away my drawings because I was like ‘oh, I can just make a new one!” But Keti didn’t use paper as her canvas for very long. By seventh grade, she started drawing on herself. “It was somewhat bringing my drawings closer to life unlike paper,” Keti said. “It’s like a 3D canvas.” Rather than her signature drawing of a house, Keti began drawing tribal symbols and incorporating those designs into her own style. “My mom doesn’t think I’m that close to my culture, but I really love it.” Keti’s family comes from Tonga, a Polynesian Kingdom. While her older sister tends to take the reigns at speaking Tongan and performing Tongan dances, Keti prefers to appreciate her culture in her own way. “I’d rather observe how people interact with each other.” Keti said. “The tribals help me feel like I’m actually doing something, if that makes sense.”
Before preschool, Keti could speak Tongan fairly well. “When I went to preschool, I learned English and I got so excited I just spoke english, so I forgot the language,” she said. But preschool wasn’t the first place Keti’s culture got lost among English speaking ones. Coming to Menlo, she’s noticed the lack of diversity in more than just skin tones. “[The Menlo community] said to not just focus on ethnic diversity but also different experiences, but really everyone at Menlo has the same experience,” Keti said. To Keti, it seems as if the Menlo community comes from very similar backgrounds, is fairly close-minded to the world around them, and doesn’t always know what’s going on. “Like, they think that East Palo Alto and Oakland never have anything good in them, but there are good parts to the Ghettos.”
While Keti has had much of her culture buried at Menlo, where Tongan culture is rarely if ever brought to the surface, she has found ways to embrace her culture through art. She was a student in AP art this year and created a concentration (12 pieces with a common theme) revolving around her family and culture. “I don’t really like art as much because of AP art. I don’t like how they demand something. Art is supposed to be expressive, but they have all these rules,” Keti said. While AP art didn’t quite resonate with Keti, she did end up creating a concentration depicting different perspectives of Tongan life. She painted her grandmother making “ngatus” from mulberry tree branches, a traditional cloth with designs on top. The designs are lifted from her grandmother’s cloth and surround the figure, representing the fact that her grandmother is always surrounded by her culture. Keti mixed photographs and Tongan designs to give Menlo a glimpse of a culture they’ve never really learned about.
Non-Cliché Classical Musical By Anna Boonyanit
Rachmaninoff- Piano Concerto no. 2 mvt. 2 Brahms- Piano Concerto no. 2 mvt. 1 Chopin- Ballade no. 4 Gershwin- Piano Concerto in F mvt. 1 Chopin- Nocturne op. 48 no. 1 Brahms- Piano Trio no. 1 mvt. 3 Gershwin- Prelude no. 2 Brahms- Intermezzo op. 118 no. 2 Rachmaninoff- Sonata for Cello and Piano op. 19 mvt. 3 Scarlatti- Sonata in D Major K. 492 Brahms- Intermezzo op. 117 no. 1 Rachmaninoff- Moments Musicaux no. 6 Chopin- Concerto no. 1 mvt. 2 Mozart- Sonata no. 13 K.333 mvt .1 Dvorak- Piano Quintet in A mvt. 2 Rachmaninoff- Concerto no. 3 mvt. 1 Ravel- Jeux d’eau Chopin- Sonata no. 2 Brahms- Violin Sonata no. 2 Chopin- Nocturne op. 27 no. 2 Shoenfield- Cafe Music mvt. 2
FFuunn Fo Forreeiiggnn FFiillmmss wwiitthh LLaauurreenn && RRiiyyaa Ida (2013) (streams on Netflix) Sad, slow, and gloriously black and white, this Oscar-winning film is sometimes hard to watch. But it’s worth it. In post-WW2 Poland, Anna, a young Catholic woman about to take her vows, learns that her real name is Ida Lebenstein— she’s Jewish. She travels with a tough disillusioned aunt and meets a flirtatious saxophone-playing boy, but this film could not live without Ida. Ida staring out the window, Ida rarely saying a word, Ida letting loose her hair. This film is a rebellion against action-filled modern films, gleaning its beauty from the stillness and the silence. --Riya Chicken with Plums (Poulet aux Prunes) (2011) This surprisingly upbeat French-German flick directed and written by Marjane Satrapi (based on her graphic novel of the same name) focuses on the themes of death, love, and spirituality through the story of a depressed middle-aged violinist who decides to die after his wife smashes his instrument. Everyone read Persepolis (also by Satrapi) in middle school, so if you liked that, you’ll love this. Her wonderfully dark humor flows seamlessly from one medium to the next. --Lauren
The Way He Looks (Hoje Eu Quero Voltar Sozinho) (2014) (streams on Netflix) This Brazilian rom-com doesn’t have the most original plot, but it still manages to pull hard at the heartstrings. It’s about blind teenager Leo—his wavering friendships, his inability to fit in, and his infatuation with the new boy Gabriel—all sprinkled with charming extended metaphor and an impeccable soundtrack (Belle & Sebastian, Bowie, etc.). There are the usual cliches—the angst, the “never kissed,” the “pretending to be straight”... But cliches are cliches for a reason. This film is a reminder of the simplicity of being young and in love. --Riya
Boy (2010) (streams on Netflix) This slice-of-life film set in 1984 New Zealand follows a native, Michael Jackson-obsessed 11 year old boy who gets to know his elusive deadbeat father when he returns to retrieve a bag of money he buried years ago. The dramatic comedy discusses family, poverty, love, and loss all while making you gasp for air laughing. In addition to the film’s social commentaries, its beautiful camera work and music makes it a pleasure to watch. Peep this movie for an astoundingly relatable bildungsroman that draws a dichotomy between tradition and pop-culture in modern indigenous societies. --Lauren
The Lunchbox (2013) “Sometimes the wrong train will get you to the right station,” preaches this touching epistolary film centered on Mumbai’s stunningly complex and efficient lunchbox system. When Ila, longing for nothing but her husband’s love, finds that the lunchbox she made was sent to a stranger instead, everything changes. About fate and the accidentally perfect, The Lunchbox fosters a sense of yearning that fills the pervasive loneliness—it’s beautiful and quietly powerful. It’s a film about love that stems from daal and rotis, but ultimately, stretches beyond it. --Riya
We are the Best! (Vi är bäst!) (2013) (streams on Netflix) Are you a feminist who wonders what the punk music movement of the 80’s was all about? Okay, maybe you’re just a feminist, but you’ll dig this. Like Chicken with Plums, this film is the adaptation of the director’s wife’s graphic novel, Never Goodnight. Flash back to 1982 Stockholm where three 13 year old girls are exploring music and self expression in a music scene run by men. Bobo, Klara and Hedvig are pioneers as they break down the stigma around punk female musicians. These girls’ story is painfully relatable to children of suburbia because their rebellion has a curfew. When they go to a friend’s house to give her a mohawk, they have to lie about doing math homework. As long as you can survive the flashbacks of preteen love and frustration, this movie is worth your time. --Lauren
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You can watch the movie on Netflix or Amazon if you want to indulge in a cheesy musical night, but it is recommended that, particularly as a Menlo student, you go to the Guild Theater in Menlo Park on June Oct. 3rd 6th at 12:00 am for the next showing.
By Scott Stevens
Here’s why. First, you’re likely never to witness the absurdity that Rocky brings to a theater outside of this magic witching hour. It begins when you pull up by the curb on your way to park, your jaw loosening at the people lined up. There will be men with eye shadow, boys in fishnets, girls in gothic corsets, and an assortment of heels, black leather, and more articles of trampy clothing. Waiting in line, you will be approached by a tall, Halloweenish lady who will request to write a “V” in lipstick on your cheeks. This announces that you are a Rocky “virgin,” one who hasn’t had the pleasure of participating in the show. Once you find a seat, you will listen to the speakers blaring music alternating between “YMCA” and “Drop It Like It’s Hot” before the pre-show starts. The pre-show is an especially intimate event. The MC invites all the virgins to come onto the stage, where they will compete in a competition, the winners of which will unwittingly be subject to cross-dressing into bride and groom outfits and placed on stage in the opening scene. One memorable competition was a dating show, the winners being those who produced the most scandalous skit. Of course, the main reason why you’ll go to Rocky is for the audience participation. It is a moderately bad movie when you watch it alone at noon. The allure of Rocky is its midnight community, with its costumes and the startling “call-backs,” or funny lines the seasoned audience members shout at the screen at specific moments. You’ll hardly be able to hear the movie with the affectionate name-calling and innuendos around you. Some theatres don’t have actors lip synching and miming characters below the screen, but the Guild Theater does.
If you’ve watched or read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, you may be familiar with these miming actors. Why should Menlo students be exhorted to attend this monthly magic? Because the show, in all its camp, candor, its silliness and insubordination, undermines the Menlo pose we hold - cultured, unflappable, verging on asexual. It is true that hedonism interferes with learning; therefore at an ambitiously academic school as our own, pure sensuality and its pleasures are taboo. But step off the campus and into this Menlo Park gem, and you’ll find the opposite. We study foil characters in literature all four years here, yet it is so difficult to find foils for our own selves in an environment of almost homogenous views of success. Many of the people who participate in Rocky have a different way of living their life, or at least they do one night a month. They value a coarser humor, a stranger approach to fashion, and the notion that it’s forgivable to fail and fall into the arms of friends. Speakers on stress at assemblies as well as faculty members may emphasize this last value as part of building an education and a community, yet many students overthink the failures that are, in fact, inconsequential to college admissions and, more importantly, their identity. Whether you feel stifled by Menlo and need models to form a unique identity, or whether you simply want to confirm your idea of how weird you don’t want to be, Rocky offers the perfect reprieve from the ordinary world of elite education. Get a senior to drive you, sneak out if you must, because there exists a stranger world outside our community, and Saturday midnights at the Guild is a window to that world.
Kaitlin Hao: Exploring an Advanced Placement Art Portfolio I love to explore all aspects of the world with my art, from gender-bending and teenage angst, to the past and my childhood. Even though I dabble in anything that pops into my head, one topic I always return to is culture. In my Advanced Placement Art concentration, I explored the juxtaposition between the Western culture and the Tanzanian Ma’asai tribe culture. Although the colorful beads and African plains are breathtaking, it doesn’t affect my work as much as my own Chinese heritage. My Chinese blood influences every facet of my art with its rich history and fascinating values. I am proud to be a second-generation Chinese immigrant.
In “Fusion,” I tried to capture the cultural fusion of China and the U.S. China, with its delicate silks and mountain landscape, clashes with the garish red, white, and blue colors and the indulgent capitalism represented by the cheeseburger. Although these two cultures are so different, they still work together. Personally, my family had to learn to balance the wild, fresh aspects of American life with the rich culture of their ancestors. When my grandparents immigrated to the U.S., they didn’t speak one word of English and knew nothing about the American way of life. Forty years later, they are proud to call themselves American citizens.
“Lotus Feet” highlights the traditional Chinese standard of beauty versus today’s meaning of beauty. In my grandparents’ era, society viewed tiny, narrow feet (commonly known as “lotus feet”) as the epitome of beauty and sex appeal. Men found it intensely erotic when women with bound feet, or “lotus feet,” walked with dainty, swaying steps. To achieve the ideal length of less than than three inches, mothers broke their daughters’ toes and folded them into the sole, causing excruciating pain and permanent damage. My own great-aunts were victims of this twisted practice. Although foot-binding is no longer in fashion, the values and ideas of lotus feet are recognizable in modern Western stilettos, which are used to elongate the legs to attract the opposite sex, and are also a killer to walk in. In my painting, I depict a woman leaving painful ancient Chinese standards of beauty behind, but stepping into Western culture with similar values. No matter what matter what society we live in, beauty always comes at the price of pain.
In my next painting, “Great-Grandpa’s Great Adventure,” I tried to capture the beauty of America through a foreigner’s eyes. Although my great-grandfather never lived in America, he was able to visit San Francisco one time in his life. My painting depicts his emotions on his first visit to America. He stands on the Golden Gate Bridge, awed by its massive size and beauty, with his beard blowing in the famous, foggy San Francisco wind. Although he appreciates the splendor of America, he still is proud to wear his silk robe and outwardly demonstrate his Chinese identity. Though there may be beauty in modern innovation, but there is still beauty and comfort in heritage. I love to capture the small details of Chinese tradition and art. Brush painting and calligraphy are renowned Asian art forms praised for how well they captures the movement and fluidity of nature. However, as time goes on and the number of Chinese brush masters dwindle, brush painting could become a lost art form. I attempted to capture the forgotten beauty of brushes and ink in my painting, “The Forgotten Master.” These days, it’s easy to forget the simplistic beauty of tradition, roots, and heritage for the complex, innovative world of technology and convenience, but we must remember that the today’s world would not exist without the past.
Marvelous Music with Lauren and Riya Melodies From Around The World
Jaan Pehechaan Ho - Mohammed Rafi Les Champs-Elysées - Joe Dassin Sabaku - Tenniscoats Bonnie And Clyde - Brigitte Bardot, Serge Gainsbourg Alla l’aa ke - Alhaji Bai Konte Azul - Natalia Lafourcade, Rodrigo Amarante Love Song - AV Okubo Elle et moi - Aline Taal Se Taal - Udit Narayan, Alka Yagnik, A.R. Rahman Zhi Yuan De Ren - Carsick Cars Bo’ee (Come With Me) - The Idan Raichel Project Limón y Sal - Julieta Venegas Katachi - Shugo Tokumaru Vagalumes Cegos - Cícero