Herald Volume LXXXV Issue 2

THE YALE HERALD Feb. 8, 2019 | vol LXXXV | Issue 2

Yale’s most daring publication since 1986

Laurie Roark, ES ’21, profiles Angelo Appi, the self-proclaimed “most distinguished marksman in Connecticut.”

The Yale Herald is a not-for-profit, non-partisan, incorporated student publication registered with the Yale College Dean’s Office.

If you wish to subscribe to the Herald, please contact the Editor-in-Chief at fiona.drenttel@yale.edu.

Receive the Herald for one semester for 40 dollars, or for the 2018-2019 academic year for 65 dollars.

The Yale Herald is published by Yale College students, and Yale University is not responsible for its contents. All opinions expressed are those of the authors and do not reflect the views of The Yale Herald, Inc. or Yale University. Copyright 2018 The Yale Herald.

VISIT US ONLINE AT YA L E H E R A L D . C O M

The Herald Masthead EDITORIAL STAFF EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Fiona Drenttel MANAGING EDITORS Marina Albanese Chalay Chalermkraivuth

EXECUTIVE EDITORS Emma Chanen, Emily Ge, Margaret

Grabar Sage, Jack Kyono, Nicole Mo,

Marc Shkurovich, Eve Sneider, Anna Sudderth, Oriana Tang FEATURES EDITORS Joe Abramson, Jordan Powell CULTURE EDITORS Laurie Roark, Helen Teegan VOICES EDITORS Hamzah Jhaveri, Mariah Kreutter OPINION EDITOR Spencer Hagaman REVIEWS EDITORS Kat Corfman, Everest Fang, Douglas Hagemeister FUZZ EDITORS Matt Reiner, Harrison Smith INSERTS EDITORS Sarah Force, Addee Kim

DESIGN STAFF CREATIVE DIRECTORS Julia Hedges, Rasmus Schlutter DESIGN EDITORS Paige Davis, Michelle Li, Molly Ono

IN THIS ISSUE

6

Voices Selena Martinez, DC ’22, captures the placememory of a street called Caminito.

Addee Kim, JE ’21, dreams of kimchi.

8 Week Ahead THE EXIT PLAYERS PRESENT MIXED CO PRESENT THE EXIT PLAYERS FRIDAY FEB. 8 @ 8:00 P.M. LC 101 YALE PLAYWRITES FESTIVAL 2019 FRIDAY FEB. 8 @ 2:30 P.M - SATURDAY FEB. 9 @ 7:00 P.M. OFF BROADWAY THEATER CHEWING THE FAT: “ETHICS INNOVATION AND THE FUTURE OF FOOD” THURSDAY FEB. 14 @ 4:30 PM WLH ROOM 208

INCOMING OUTGOING

All the fluids in your face

Features Abeyaz Amir, SC ’22, takes a closer look at Yale’s resources—and lack thereof—for responding to discrimination on campus.

18

Culture

Opinions

Kat Corfman, SM ’21, recounts the technical difficulties that plagued the remote viewing of Roxane Gay’s public reading.

From the YH archives: in February 1989, Carolyn Bordeaux, MC ’91, contemplates the balance between security and freedom at Yale following a rise of violent crime on and around campus in the late 1980s.

Marina Albanese, PC ’20 builds a bumpin’ warm asparagus salad without any BA, and just a little BS.

9

Fuzz Fuzz talks with Molly Ono, ES ’20, about her painting practice.

12

Cover Laurie Roark, ES ’21, profiles Angelo Appi, the self-proclaimed “most distinguished marksman in Connecticut.”

Neti Pot

10

20

Reviews Nicole Mo, BK ’19, tackles Maroon 5’s performance at the Super Bowl LIII Halftime Show.

Emma Keyes, PC ’19, takes you back to the ’30s with a review of the academy awardwinning romantic comedy, It Happened One Night.

Judson Potenza, SM ’21, gives his take on a classic neo-noir from the ’60s, Le Samourai.

INSERTS

Dear Jason REBECCA SALZHAUER, SY ’22

Y

ou didn’t see my eighth grade production of The Music Man, Jr., and therefore, you are dead to me.

That blissful, 90 minute chronicle of the sleepy town of River City, Iowa, circa 1910 was not to be missed. As I said every time you passed me while I was selling tickets alone in the cafeteria, it was the theatrical event of the semester.

of the traveling salesmen in the proto-LinManuel Miranda-esque opening number, “Rock Island.” And yes, I die a little every time I hear the act two production number “Shipoopi,” not because of its lyrics’ blatant slut-shaming, but because it still reminds of my audition, where I danced circles around everyone. Even Jared’s mom. And she was the choreographer.

If you don’t believe me, let the reviews speak for themselves. Jessica’s mom said that I “was so good” and that I “was like a Jewish Tilda Swinton.” Also my aunt told me that I really looked like I was having fun up there. And I was. I know you had to sit shiva for your great uncle, but Vanessa Hudgens’s dad died the morning she delivered a heart-wrenching yet kaleidoscopic portrayal of Rizzo on FOX’s Grease Live! You can learn to toughen up.

So, no, Jason. There is no way in hell that I will “come to your wedding” and “participate in a flash mob” to surprise your fiancée “Lauren.” Of course you could “benefit greatly from my dancing,” Jason, but if you thought it was so awesome, you would have skipped a night of shiva 19 years ago. Sorry for your loss, by the way.

What I mean to say is: that chapter of my life—the chapter that includes you—is It’s not that being denied the romantic lead of closed. Period.

Marian “the Librarian” Paroo to play one of six Pick-a-Little Ladies was the hardest thing That said, if you’re free March 28 through I’ve had to do, but it’s up there. Especially 30, I’ll be playing Silly Girl #2 in Beauty and after hearing Alexa’s sub-par soprano on the Beast at Southern Valley Community Marian’s “My White Knight.” Yes, it was a Theater. Tickets are $12 online, $15 at the real punch in the gut to not be chosen as one door. We would love to have you.

4

THE YALE HERALD

5 Top 5 Tips to Overcome Your Writer’s Block

1.

SARAH FORCE, SY ’21 YH STAFF

Buy some Silly Putty! It’s proven to help with concentration.

Eliminate distractions! Lock your phone in your room. If this proves insufficient, lock away your copy of Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake. After all, masturbation is time consuming.

3.

Buy some Play-Doh, if you didn’t like the taste of the Silly Putty.

If you’re really stuck, readers probably won’t notice if you skip a page or two or fall short of the word count.

Looking 4 pet Craigslist > new haven > for sale > pet - looking for

2.

About Me My name is Doug, and I want a nice pet. I’m in my late 40s, and I work in HR at an advertising company. Because of my career, I’m a pretty responsible person. I live in a one-story house, and I have a decent backyard for a pet.

I don’t travel a lot, either, and I have friendly neighbors. I don’t own any animals, if that’s important. I also have very few allergies, so we should be good. No spouse or kids.

5.

HAMZAH JHAVERI, TC ’22 YH STAFF

Here are some qualities I would prefer in my pet: • Gentle • No scratching • Makes some noise, but not too loud (neighbors) • Not sexual • Right around my lower back to the start of my butt • More rublike than taplike This is not a massage. I want a pet. I do not want a massage or oils of any kind.

VOICES

It all happens here, on a street called Caminito.

Every bad thing breathes in its first bit of air, Selfish and gray in its spirit, and it takes, Billowing and filling up rooms until there isn’t any air left.

Painted-blue patios become scenes of destruction, Places where only the grittiest souls return, And, even then, their eyes are open And they carry rabbit’s feet in their palms.

The paint peels, But a blueness of the mind remains, Rising and mixing with the gray air, A joint occupation of the lungs, A mixed asphyxiation.

A Street Called Caminito SELENA MARTINEZ, DC ’22 YH STAFF

6 THE YALE HERALD

Walking here does a damage to the heart, As though God is mashing the thing of His creation Between two unearthly hands, Abusing the organ born to love wholly.

A glass table, warped and marbled by dust and sunlight, sits Empty outside on the deck, Plastic chairs left crooked and a screen door slid left, Etchings in the place-memory.

Place-memory, the bed that commands visions, The kitchen that cannot exist without it, Dictates every grief-laden footstep, each burdened jerk of the arm To defend someone–an apparition, maybe–no longer there.

Armchairs, plaid-fabric sewn, wait here, Refugees from Grandfather’s law office, Set just so, a brother angled toward his sister in V-shaped agony, Facing an old portrait, wiped of dust each morning; A long and wrinkled face, baring fangs, Haunting a living room, unsafe for the living.

7

The Weekend ADDEE KIM, JE ’21 YH STAFF

S

he was under the kitchen table, the sound of chopping right above her and the scrape of the knife against a wooden cutting board. It was a Sunday morning. She knew this because Joel Osteen was on the TV, preaching to a faceless audience. His spit projected through the glass and landed on the floor before her. Reciting something about “seasons of pruning” with interjections of the customary “God is good!” Osteen’s face grew bloated and red.

“Up now,” a voice from above commanded. She emerged from under the table, pleased to see the familiar face. “Shake it,” Halmeoni demanded, continuing to dice garlic with unmatched precision. Lily hoisted up the industrial bucket and thrusted it back and forth, using the entire mass of her little body. A ‘thank you’ wasn’t in order, but she was happy to assist, nonetheless. Halmeoni, wearing a coral muumuu and wide beige glasses, cupped her hand to the side of a Santoku knife. She tossed the palmful of garlic, then lifted the bucket to rest alongside jars of kkakdugi, dongchimi, and oi sobagi.

The lidless bucket would sit there for the next two weeks, a world of bacteria inside it. The microorganisms would work to intensify the aroma and taste of the spicy cabbage. It was a science experiment, and like all successful experiments it required testing. Lily scanned the kitchen. She heard Beethoven’s “Symphony Four, Movement Two” blaring from the record player in the living room. Her grandmother nowhere to be found, Lily plunged her arm into the vegetal entrails all the way up to her elbow.

Lily woke up in a mess of sheets, her dream perturbed by dueling car horns on Bleecker Street.

She reached out for the journal on her nightstand and sifted through sparse details. Joel Osteen? was all she came up with. It was a Saturday. She needed to go grocery shopping.

Eggs Coffee (Decaf ) Tea (Green) Cabbage Salt Garlic Garlic Powder Ginger Gochugaru Sugar Fish Sauce

OPINION From the YH Archives: Robberies in Silliman, Trumbull, and TD. A female student assaulted with a fourteen-inch lead pipe on Beinecke Plaza. The sudden death of a Yale graduate student in her apartment. A woman raped in Bingham Hall. These crimes were only the tipping point of a growing crime problem that plagued the Yale and New Haven community in the late eighties, causing the Yale administration and University President Benno Schmidt to undertake serious security reforms. In a February 1989 issue of the Herald, first-year student Carolyn Bordeaux, MC ‘91, considers how the ring of security surrounding Yale’s campus isolates students from the New Haven community, creating an almost inescapable bubble.

While crime in New Haven has drastically dropped since 1989, today Yale security remains as tight as ever.

Despite decreased crime rates and increased student engagement with the City of New Haven, many of Bordeaux’s same concerns about security and freedom still linger among Yale students. These concerns persist not because of actual safety concerns, but because of discourse on campus like Bordeaux’s.

CAROLYN BORDEAUX, MC ’91

A

friend of mine was telling me of his visit to the University of Chicago, and I found his story disturbing.

He spoke of a university surrounded by fences and barbed wire where a student had to have a police escort to move from one enclosed part of the campus to another.

Though I hope Yale never reaches this extreme, we are increasingly locking ourselves into the campus and out of the city. We are starting to shut ourselves in prison while criminals live outside. To reach a room in my own residential college, I need two keys and must navigate my way past three locks.

I realize there are security reason behind these measures. I also realize that the city is a dangerous place, but we are losing our freedom. Though this problem hurts us all, it is particularly acute for women because of the traditional and very genuine fears of rape and assault. At night, it is not just ill-advised for me to walk alone across the Yale campus: in light of the recent crimes in the area, it is stupid. I must always to be dependent on someone else–someone else to go to the language lab with me, someone else to walk home with me from the library. Where is the freedom of college life? Where is the basic freedom of being able to walk outside your room without being afraid? Locked in the campus, locked out of the world, we’re becoming like rabbits afraid to venture out of our holes alone.

“You chose to attend Yale, and it is in a city. Naturally, you must accept the restrictions that come with urban life…”

By the end of last semester, I was becoming more and more claustrophobic. The gates on Old Campus were closed at

8 THE YALE HERALD

12:00 a.m. and I trekked home from CCL down the dark street and around Phelps Gate. As I walked, I dreamed of the freedom of my hometown in Virginia; Roanoke, a young city nestled in the middle of rolling mountains. There I would be free. I could walk in the doors. I could walk out of the doors. I could go outside. I could go anywhere without three keys and an I.D. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how wrong I was. Even in Roanoke, people have been affected by fear, though on a different scale. At night, I can walk around the block by myself with a 99 percent chance of returning home safely, but my freedom ends there.

“Don’t drive alone at night. Lock the doors before you leave: the next-door neighbors had a break-in. Don’t walk down to the creek. Don’t walk in the mountains alone.” Locked in locked out… Even in the country there have been kidnappings and murders.

I found a similar example of self-imposed isolation in Tom Wolfe’s latest book, Bonfire of the Vanities. He described the Bronx courthouse as an island in the midst of the violence and crime of the city. The people who worked in the courts had to follow careful security measures. They walked from the subway to the Courthouse and back, not daring to step outside this path. At night, they were terribly afraid to even venture outside the building. We, as a society, are losing our freedom to fear. As gang violence escalates and drug-related crimes become more frequent, the educated and the wealthy are isolating themselves and gradually moving behind fortresses of barbed wire and iron gates. We are locking ourselves in and locking out the world.

FUZZ

HARRISON SMITH, ES ’20 YH STAFF

T

his week Fuzz interviewed artist Molly But it’s not necessarily just artists, it’s also the Ono, ES ’20 about her practice. ways people have presented themselves on Instagram, other social media, fashion magazines, adFuzz: Describe your work in 5 adjectives. vertising, movies… I’ve been really obsessed with Lady Bird, which is not controversial at all, but I Molly Ono: Humorous, color-conscious, impul- think that sort of mood has saturated my brain. sive, instinctual, and expressive.

F: What has changed most about your work in F: How would you describe your work to your the last three years? grandmother?

MO: I’ve definitely turned more towards abMO: An investigation into being a young wom- straction. I didn’t really know how to do that in an through paint. high school, but I’ve learned so many tools about how to approach it in a smart and interesting way F: Which artists are you most interested in right since coming to college. I’ve gotten more confinow? dent in my choices of color and form, and more considerate of what I want to paint and what I MO: Charline von Heyl, Eva Hesse, Ana Mend- want to investigate with my paintings. In high ieta, and Marlene Dumas. school I was just painting people because painting people was the mark of a ‘good artist,’ espeF: Which artist informs your work most, con- cially since my school was a pretty weak in the ceptually? arts. Back then I would paint pretty dumb stuff, just because I knew I could, like fleshy flowers MO: I’d say Helen Frankenthaler. I like the loose- and skeletons, very teenage things. ness with which she paints, the ideas around the drip and paint guiding form instead of the artist F: What is the most challenging aspect/stage of guiding form. When the artist is guiding paint your practice? and the paint is guiding the form—that distance is something I am really interested in currently. MO: There’s kind of this turning moment where That kind of ‘letting go.’ you think you have a handle on it, and the piece starts to approach this state where you can feel it F: Which artist informs your work most, aesthet- coming together. It’s that moment of preciousically? ness. There’s this very sensitive zone at some point, like three-quarters of the way through the MO: Probably Van Gogh. I don’t think it was piece, where you realize you could so easily mess a conscious thing, but people say that about the it up, and that’s the scariest part. work I made last summer, and the background on my phone is a Van Gogh which I look at that Conversely, there are times when you’re making all the time. It’s not conscious, but I think be- a painting and it looks really good, but you know cause I see it so much it’s leaked into my brain… that it’s not quite finished and you don’t know I’ve seen so many images of his work without what to do from there. It becomes a kind of probbeing actively obsessed with him that the color lem to solve. That can be very difficult because choices and painting choices that he’s made have you could so easily make the wrong move, and subconsciously informed me, even though I am then it looks worse and becomes even a larger more actively interested in contemporary women problem. I’ve gotten into this negative feedback artists now than I am in his work from the 1800s. loop where I keep working and working and it looks worse and worse.

Molly Ono, Mother I, 2018, oil on canvas

F: What music do you listen to while painting?

MO: The other day I was listening to my party playlist, so I think I was listening to T-Pain.

I’ve been listening to “I’m Sprung” a lot, I had that song stuck in my head continuously the other day.

F: What is the next step for your work?

MO: I’m considering very heavily the legacy of female artists right now and wanting to investigate more queer art, which maybe is not my sphere to look into, but it’s so closely linked to feminist art that it’s hard to separate from that.

Along that vein, I’ve been interested in the role that men have been playing in my life and how they’ve affected me. I’m doing a set of paintings right now that are text messages I’ve received from men that I’ve been involved with in the past. I like the idea of repackaging it as my artistic work, versus just language they’ve sent me.

FEATURES

ABEYAZ AMIR, SM ’22

O

n May 8, 2018, Lolade Siyonbola, GRD ’19, was questioned at length by Yale police after a white graduate student felt threatened by the sight of her napping in her common room late at night.

On Nov. 13, 2018, a more flagrant display of white power appeared on Cross Campus: posters declaring the presence of a White Student’s [sic] Union of Yale. The posters featured a quote by John C. Calhoun, reading: “In looking back, I see nothing to regret, nothing to fear.”

In neither case did students of color have means of formal recourse, and in neither case were the white perpetrators held accountable. Students who face racial discrimination may ostensibly seek legal redress through Title VI, but no office at Yale has been established to address the race-based discrimination that students experience.

Currently, Yale defines discrimination as “treating a student adversely based on sex, race, color, religion, age, disability, status as a special disabled veteran, veteran of the Vietnam era or other covered veteran, national or ethnic origin, sexual orientation, or gender identity or expression.” Yale’s procedure for students to address discrimination and harassment recommends that students reach out to a Dean’s Designee—a member of the Yale administration tasked with the responsibility of addressing discrimination and harassment complaints. Designee Dean Burgwell Howard notes Yale’s dilatory handling of cases of racial discrimination, citing the University’s prolonged procedures: “This timeline can be, in many ways, out of sync with today’s speed of media, especially social media, and people’s quick understanding of happenings from video clips or social media posts.” The outcome of Dean Howard’s and others’ findings resulted in the creation of belong.yale.edu before the Fall 2018 semester, which serves as a reference for Yale’s discrimination policies and support for students.

Though Yale is bound to Title VI laws that prevent discrim-

10 THE YALE HERALD

Though Yale is bound to Title VI laws that prevent discrimination on the basis of race, sex, or nationality, it has made a decision not to open a title VI office, which would handle racially motivated incidents with the brisk formality of the Title IX office. ination on the basis of race, sex, or nationality, it has made a decision not to open a title VI office, which would handle incidents of racial discrimination with the brisk formality of the Title IX office. Dean Howard references the differences in the establishment of Title VI and Title IX policies in citing Yale’s reasons for not creating a Title VI office: “Title VI is a very broad category under the Civil Rights Act, and was not narrowly interpreted for the educational context, many universities have created policies and procedures designed to address the requirements outlined in Title VI, but don’t have standing offices focused on this work—unlike Title IX, which was specifically carved out to address issues in education.” Because of this gap in policy, Yale created its own office of harassment, though with a process that prefers not to involve the executive committee.

Dean Howard explains that current Yale policies are “set-up to address the conduct of individuals, not necessarily collective groups or organizations.” The White Student’s Union posters serve as an example of how cases of racial discrimination do not always occur on an individual level. Howard states that in these cases, situations will be considered by the Executive Committee.

In a letter written in response to Siyonbola’s mistreatment at the hands of a peer and the police, President Salovey outlined the role of Secretary and Vice President for Student Life, Kimberly Goff-Crews, BK ’83, LAW ’86, in creating new policy. Secretary Goff-Crews, he writes, “has met bi-weekly [with a group of faculty and staff ] throughout the summer and will continue to meet to evaluate short and long-term actions.” In addition, he writes, “[She] has met extensively with students, as well, to seek their input.” GoffCrews has also been tasked with creating a student advisory group for “Diversity, Equity and Inclusion.” However, the process by which students may join the committee is not provided. President Salovey also outlined the introduction of implicit bias training, though only required for graduate students, faculty, and staff.

When asked about future initiatives, Secretary Goff-Crews explained that Yale has been working with the Vice President for the Office of Institutional Equity at Duke University to revamp Yale’s infrastructure for complaint procedures, which are currently managed by the Office for Equal Opportunity Programs (OEOP). Secretary Goff-Crews explains that the OEOP “manages general oversight of the university’s compliance with Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and “also oversees compliance with Title VII, Section 504, the Americans With Disabilities Act, and other federal and statement discrimination laws.” Secretary GoffCrews also expressed that she plans to share the results of her work with Dr. Reese within the upcoming month.

11

Yale has also developed the Bulldog Mobile App (LifeSafe) in an attempt to streamline the process of reporting racial discrimination. Students can upload pictures or videos as an formal means of reporting. Dean Howard is hopeful that the app will improve the efficacy of Yale’s investigation process into harassment, but he adds: “Unfortunately, students sometime assume, that because a student has posted something on Facebook, Snapchat or Instagram and their friends are talking about it, that somehow that is equivalent to notifying the University or submitting a formal report…

That is not the case,” he writes. He blames the “viral” pace of social media both for students’ impatience, and for their failure to report racist incidents through channels vetted and monitored by the University.

It remains unclear, however, how the app has improved the complaint resolution process. The app does not replace the duty of Yale’s faculty and administration to serve its students.

Dean Howard recommends that in cases of broad, generalized attacks to the community, students should still reach out to the administration as soon as possible. He applauds the students who reported the posters for following what he envisions to be the ideal procedure: “[Students] reported their concerns to a campus dean, who alerted me and others.

We immediately dispatched police to investigate, search the area, meet with the students and allowed for university staff to do follow up investigations to see if this was an isolated external provocation, or an internal act that violated Yale’s rules and required action.”

Until Yale develops a standardized system to handle cases of discrimination, it will fall short in fully supporting students of color. The implementation of a Title VI office and an extension of implicit bias training to undergraduates seems like a good place to start.

illustration by Molly Ono

Trigger Appi

LAURIE ROARK, ES ’21 YH STAFF

W

The APPI method distinguishes itself from the NRA’s Basic Pistol Course by teaching two subjects in detail: marksmanship and the use of deadly force. For the marksmanship component, APPI serves as an offbeat acronym for the Application of Positive Pressure Improves trigger control. The second fold of the APPI Method concerns the use of deadly force. Connecticut General Statute 53a-19 makes legal the use of deadly force if an individual has established a “reasonable belief ” that they are being threatened with great bodily harm or deadly force, themself. 53a-19 does not define “reasonable belief,” so Appi has taken it upon himself to do so with his own name. Appi instructs his students to think through four “deadly” criteria when they find themselves standing, gun loaded and aimed: Armed, Proximity, Physically able and Intent. The He teaches his pistol permit class to a maximum of NRA course does not provide any such instruction, three students. He gives each student a custom 25- not even covering the use of deadly force. page curriculum in a black binder, puts a revolver on the table, and begins.

The homepage of Connecticut-Firearms-Safety.com Appi is one of dozens of private instructors who teach features a headline in bold red text: “MY PISTOL pistol permit safety courses. An individual is required SAFETY CLASS IS FREE.” Below, a condition to take one of these courses in order to obtain a pistol appears in blue: “If you can locate a State or NRA permit from local law enforcement, which allows certified instructor with credentials superior to those I them to carry a handgun in the state of Connecticut. have listed below with documented proof of his or her The minimum requirement by law is the NRA’s credentials and accomplishments.” The assumption Basic Pistol Course. This course requires five hours is, of course, that there is no state or NRA-certified of instruction, which includes coaching on loading, instructor whose credentials even compare. The class unloading, cleaning, safety storage, and live firing. costs $130.

Appi’s course includes three additional hours of class time, culminating in a total of eight hours of instruction. The neighbors in Appi’s cul-de-sac, Cricket Court, are unbothered by his home business. This is mostly hen I knocked on the door of Angelo Appi’s light blue split-level, the 76-yearold greeted me by name with a warm handshake. We walked up the stairs and into the dining room, past collections of roughly 50 vintage toy guns and 150 World War II model airplanes. His dining room windows are adorned with sheer pink curtains, shooting targets, and sight aids suspended from wooden hangers. The table is covered with a plastic tablecloth, and around it are four brown-leather office chairs. It’s at this table that Appi teaches his classes.

He is the sole operator of Connecticut Firearms Safety, LLC, a private gun safety school based in his home in the quiet suburb of North Haven. He claims to be the “most distinguished marksman in Connecticut.”

because no loaded firearms are handled in Appi’s dining-classroom. When Appi’s pistol permit students shoot live rounds—a mandatory requirement for the state certification—they leave the classroom for the Branford Gun Club.

Appi drove me to the Branford Gun Club in his blue Nissan sedan. His adult son has put stickers on the back window: one for Trump, one for Pepe’s Pizza.

On the passenger side, Appi has covered a dent with a set of bullet hole stickers. “Sometimes people take a second look,” he laughed.

The Branford Gun Club is composed of three prefabricated yellow buildings situated around a gravel parking lot and an outdoor shooting range, littered with the orange carcasses of shattered clay birds. The member demographic is unsurprising: mostly white, middle-aged male NRA members, many of them veterans. Appi knows them all. The largest building is the clubhouse, a hyper-masculine den with a pool table, a bar, and a persistent odor of cigarette smoke, although the club has just banned smoking. The second building is for storage, and the third is a bare indoor range. This third building smells like gunsmoke.

Appi has adorned each shooting station with a number, the iron kind you would normally drill onto the front of your house to signify the address.

Appi has covered the Branford Gun Club in safety posters, warning members to be careful, “vigilant.”

This work is a point of pride for Appi. He recounted how his friends have questioned why he would put in so much unnecessary work: “You think people are

going to read the signs?” Appi’s reply: “If they want to be safe, they will.”

ppi grew up in the Fair Haven neighborhood of New Haven in the 1940s. He remembers walking from his home to the Pequot Theater on Grand Avenue to watch the Saturday matinee Westerns. He was fascinated by cowboy adventure stories because “there wasn’t that much else to do.” He played obsessively with toy cap guns before begging his father for a BB gun. In high school, he got a 22-caliber rifle and joined the Wilbur Cross High School rifle team, and at age 17, he enlisted in the United States Marine Corps “to see if [he] was tough enough.”

A

In the Marines, Appi learned that he was not only tough enough, but that he was a talented marksman and, by his own account, the best shooter in his class. In 1964, he returned to New Haven and joined the police department. He told me that he joined the force after witnessing a woman’s assault and murder in New York.

He had watched and done nothing. He said he wanted to become a police officer to make up for it, “to make a difference.” As an officer doing car patrols, Appi passed out candy to kids. They called him “Happy.”

Today, “Happy” is retired. Connecticut Firearms Safety is a supplement to his pension. He spends most of his time doing another kind of shooting: wildlife photography. He describes his practice as “subamateur.” When his knees are healthy, he walks through the woods for upwards of two hours a day, looking for birds and deer. He knows the deer families at East Rock Park well. He cuts apples and feeds the deer by hand.

His greatest dream is to photograph an owl. There’s a stark contrast between the Appi who shoots photos and the Appi who shoots guns. Gun Appi “will go one on one with anybody.” Photo Appi is so gentle that a doe once put her snout inside the pocket of his pants.

Appi shared stories about his legacy among New Haven police. He was shopping in a dollar store in North Haven when he heard a man yell across the store, “Angelo Appi: Master Sniper!” Appi revealed that the man was another retired police officer, and added with a coy smile, “He thinks I’m the best shot in the world.”

Another time, a young married couple, both officers in New Haven, approached Appi at the Branford Gun Club and asked, “Are you Angelo Appi?”

Appi said his best shot was when his colleague, a Detective Lou, dared him to shoot a soda can with a handgun at a fifty yard distance. As the story goes, he hit the can, not just once, but twice, knocking it down and then stopping its roll. Detective Lou’s jaw dropped. But Appi kept his cool. He told me, “I never let people know what I’m thinking . . . unless I’m talking to you.” At this point, we had been together for less than three hours.

In 1966, when Appi was a firearms and tactical instructor at the New Haven Police Academy, he started participating in marksmanship competitions. Appi competed until 1993. He has two distinguished badges, the highest award authorized by the U.S. government for excellence in marksmanship competition. He says these records prove he is “the most distinguished shooter in Connecticut.” The Civilian Marksmanship Program’s Club and Competition Tracker keeps a record of shooters with distinguished badges.

Currently, the list features the names of 966 shooters with distinguishment equal to or greater than Appi’s.

officer to every elementary and middle school in the district. The school district has a full time police officer stationed at North Haven High, but Appi demands more. In his letters, he implores, “Who is protecting the children in the other five schools?” Appi’s letter is graphic, describing the wake of a school shooting: “broken and mutilated bodies of numerous children lying in their own pools of blood and in the blood of their classmates.” Querfeld never responded to Appi’s suggestions.

On Dec. 14, 2012, 20 children were shot and killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn., just 45 minutes away from Appi’s home. In October 2013, Appi pushed the issue by calling a community meeting at the North Haven American Legion. He held a sign that said, “Sandy Hook: Is North Haven next?

Your children’s lives are in jeopardy.” Just before the meeting, Appi’s son, Angelo Appi, Jr., was arrested for a breach of peace after various efforts to highlight what he perceives as the security failures of his daughter’s East Haven middle school: he slipped through the school’s open front doors and threatened to bring a toy gun into the school on Facebook. Appi, Sr. defends his son and has spoken about the same issues at numerous school board meetings as recently as June 2017. The school board has not changed their policies.

Appi has now been teaching for 28 years, having retired from the police force in 1991. He’s motivated by the testimonials he receives from students, and his website has an entire section dedicated to them. They’ve been copied and pasted directly from emails in the original fonts. He quoted one to me, “I also noticed you have ince 2004, Appi has launched a fifteen- a cheerful view of life tucked-in behind that military year long campaign against North Haven demeanor.” Appi has no plans to stop teaching. “I’m public schools’ lack of adequate security. doing pretty good,” he said.

In 2007, Appi wrote a series of impassioned letters to then-Superintendent of Schools Sara-Jane Querfeld, proposing the assignment of a North Haven police

S

53a-19 does not define “reasonable belief,” so Appi has taken it upon himself to do so with his own name.

REVIEWS

JUDSON POTENZA, SM ’22 YH STAFF

W

ho are you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you want?”

“To kill you.”

The questioner reaches for his gun, but it’s already too late. Quick on the draw, the assassin’s whitegloved pointer finger squeezes the trigger, resulting in a smoke-filled room, tinnitus from the deafening bangs, and one corpse in lieu of a living person. Thus begins the chain of events that make up the rest of this bad-ass film.

The plot is simple in this seminal 1967 neo-noir thriller: hitman Jef Costello, played by Alain Delon, finds himself pursued both by the criminal underworld and the Parisian police force after a routine hit goes wrong. Simplistic plot aside, the film lends itself to multiple rewatches partly because of director Jean-Pierre Melville’s exquisite sense of aesthetics.

Melville combines slick camera zooms and pans with carefully concocted compositions, taking the flexible camera movements of the tradition-eschewing French New Wave and using them in tandem with the carefully planned compositions more reminiscent of the classical style. Each scene is simultaneously a sumptuous photographic feast and a hypnotic display of creative filmmaking at work. In keeping with the story, Melville’s style mirrors Costello’s methodical way of life: he keeps things ordered and acts in a carefully planned manner. Yet, it all feels strangely poetic and graceful due to Delon’s body movements, which are a symphony of free-flowing rigidity.

But the film is mostly riveting thanks to its complex character dynamics, which are buoyed by fantastic acting. Alain Delon, with a career-defining performance, personifies stoic detachment as the

20 THE YALE HERALD

title character. His seeming expressionlessness belies a mysterious adhesion to a self-prescribed mode of life, which provides the thematic bedrock upon which the film is built. The straightforward plot imbues the work with a fatalist quality that provokes questioning of Costello’s motives—he could have escaped from the violent life, but why didn’t he? Melville reinforces this question through set design, contrasting the mundanity that Costello subjects himself to with the beauty of escape. The Parisian nightlife is lively, exciting, vibrant. The women wear glossy, sequined dresses. The clubs pulse with energy and jazz music and feature slick, modern interiors that bespeak stylistic pizazz. Costello’s belle and her apartment exude domestic homeliness, the spare decorations indicating a quaint, modest comfort while the woman herself (played wonderfully by Delon’s real-life wife Nathalie) is soft-spoken, yet firm and intelligent, making her a lively and viable exit from a dangerous life.

Yet, Costello remains fixed to his self-chosen way of life, his beige trench-coat and gray fedora barely discernible from the cityscape of rainy afternoons and the carbon-copy sedans that he steals. This sense of lacking identity and self-isolation is expressed through the magnetic opening shot. Costello lies on his mattress in the bottom right corner of the frame, puffing smoke from his cigarette. In the center of the frame is his pet bird, twittering away in a cage on a table in between two light-filled windows. His apartment is dreary, especially compared to the aforementioned sets: the wallpaper is gray and peeling, the walls have no decoration, the lighting is dark, the left side of the frame is crowded with chairs and dressers, and there are no sounds save for the rain pattering on the windows and the high-pitched chirps of the bird. All at once, this shot establishes Costello’s disciplined

and ascetic nature as well as the encaged and lonely existence he chooses for himself. If it weren’t for the smoke, we wouldn’t even know he was there. Even the smoke is symbolic of his entrapment: it rises up, trying to move beyond the confines of the ceiling, only to dissipate unceremoniously.

By the time the other sets and characters roll around, we are left with the inevitable question: why is Costello doing this? Why does he cut himself off from society when he so easily could adapt? Is he disillusioned with modern life, unhappy with the consumerism of postwar France? Or, are his actions an altruistic upholding of traditional codes of honor, as the title suggests?

To be honest, asking such questions is as fruitless as asking what the ultimate purpose of Don Quixote’s quest was. It was never meant to be answered— answering it would ruin the aura, the mystery, and the magical quality that makes the work so engrossing.

Costello only speaks when he must, and even then, his replies are terse and robotic, his voice never giving way to inflection. He doesn’t want people to know his true feelings or motives—he’s a closed book and, because of that, he is ten times more interesting and compelling than any other fictional criminal.

By the end, however, we do find out one thing. We know that what he does want is for people to wonder at him, to contemplate his actions as the audience has implicitly done for the entire run-time. And wonder we shall, again and again; as a fascinating character study and a stylistic tour-de-force, Le Samouraï is a gift that can be reopened in perpetuity, a film that— no matter how many times it has been viewed—leaves its viewer catatonic and awestruck, unable to see cinema in the same way ever again.

21

Halftime Show

NICOLE MO, BK ’19 YH STAFF

F

of sappy couples releasing lanterns covered with words like Here’s where I have to reveal a bias: I’ve watched Prince’s “DANCE” and “BELIEVE.” 2007 Super Bowl performance countless times, and I’m convinced it’s the best there’s ever been. But this also Guest features Travis Scott and Big Boi fulfilled their means that, when Levine shouted, “Can I play guitar for roles of briefly lending the night some cool. Scott actually you right now?” I was acutely aware of how Prince said provided a moment of relief when he literally exploded nearly verbatim the same thing in his climactic final song. onto the stage, delivering the start of “Sicko Mode” alone Maybe I’m paranoid—maybe it’s just the polite way to and engulfed in fire. His energy, contrasted with the glossy start a guitar solo. Yet I can’t help but think that this was set-up that insulated Maroon 5, felt electrifyingly sincere. a concerted effort to walk in the footsteps of bona fide It wasn’t that Maroon 5 fell flat because they were unaware legends, and a failed one at that. Perhaps this is what made of what the people wanted; they fell flat because, in the the performance so distinctly hollow—not the fact that formulaic pursuit of giving the people what they want, they Maroon 5 is a bunch of indifferent corporate rockstars, but that for 13 minutes, this bunch of indifferent corporate lost any semblance of authenticity. rockstars went through the motions of trying to prove so That’s not to say the performance was a disaster. To the After Cardi B and Rihanna both allegedly turned down the hard that they’re more than that. band’s credit, they checked off all the boxes of a mass- slot in response to the NFL’s treatment of Kaepernick, and appeal stadium concert: fan favorites, fireworks, guitar after so many people called for a boycott of the event, it’s solos, performative horniness, and the occasional shout- unsurprising that Maroon 5 would get on stage and deliver out to Atlanta. But if I wanted to watch a 39-year-old in a performance divorced from racial and political reality. a bomber jacket and gold chains loyally sing “This Love” From the mostly-black gospel choir brought up during with total emptiness in his eyes, I could’ve gone to any “Girl Like You” to the heavy-handed “ONE LOVE” that bar in New Jersey on a Thursday night. “She Will Be the lanterns spelled out in the sky, superficial unity and Loved,” the highlight of their medley, featured stripped sickly feel-good uplift pervaded the show. down production, but it also peddled a cloying montage rom the moment they were announced as the Super Bowl halftime performers, it seemed like Maroon 5 had nothing to win and everything to lose. What’s the payoff when you’re a band who’s basically embedded in the DNA of radio music? I can’t imagine it was for the check or the publicity. Was it an attempt to regain lost cred after they transitioned to mainstream pop, after frontman Adam Levine took on a corny Proactiv deal and cornier judge position on The Voice? Did they hope it would launch them into a new echelon of ubiquity? Did they think they would, at the very least, have fun? Maybe— but by the time Levine was fully shirtless and dutifully gyrating on screen, it was clear that nobody was having fun.

It Happened One Night O

nly three films have won Best Picture, Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Actor, and Best Actress at the Academy Awards: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, The Silence of the Lambs, and It Happened One Night. It Happened One Night, directed by Frank Capra and written by Robert Riskin, was released in February 1934, and it remains one of the best Great Depression-era escapist romantic comedies.

Ellie Andrews, played by Claudette Colbert, is a rich, bored socialite who has married a man her father disapproves of, mostly for the sake of having something to do. After her father tries to force her to annul the marriage, she literally jumps ship—straight over the side of her father’s yacht. Ellie hits the road in disguise, with a grand plan to make it all the way from Miami to NYC to reunite with

EMMA KEYES, PC ’19 YH STAFF

much treats Ellie like a naive little girl, it eventually allows her to come into her own as a character who is more than able to keep up with the sarcastic but golden-hearted Peter. That shift in their relationship also allows Colbert and Gable’s chemistry to shine through. If you’re looking for a warm and charming film to get you through the cold The film picks up after Ellie and Peter get off the bus and and dark month of February, look no further. are forced to make their own way north. Cue an especially amusing hitch-hiking scene and the always entertaining predicament in which two people who ostensibly dislike each other must share a room under the guise of being a married couple. Like I said, hijinks. The jokes hold up pretty well and there’s even a hint of a class critique; yes Peter, a man of the people, falls in love with a wealthy socialite, but only after she’s (temporarily) in almost dire financial straits. Although the first half of the film very her beau. On the bus, she meets a journalist named Peter Warne, played by Clark Gable, who decides to help her in the hopes of breaking the big story about the missing socialite. Along the way, of course, they fall in love, and lots of hijinks ensue.

Yale University Program in Judaic Studies

presents

“Mystical Narrative and Theological Poetics: The Literary Craft of the Zohar” Presented by

Dr. Eitan P. Fishbane

Associate Professor of Jewish Thought

Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS)

February 7th, 2019 4:30pm With a Response by

Peter Cole

Senior Lecturer in Judaic Studies and in Comparative Literature Yale University Dr. Eitan P. Fishbane is Associate Professor of Jewish Thought at The Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS), specializing in the history and literature of Jewish mysticism. Fishbane earned his Ph.D. and B.A., summa cum laude, from Brandeis University, and he has served on the JTS faculty since 2006. He currently serves on the Faculty Executive Committee and the Rabbinical School Council at JTS, and as Division Chair for Jewish Mysticism at the Association for Jewish Studies (AJS). Among his published works are The Art of Mystical Narrative: A Poetics of the Zohar (Oxford University Press, 2018) and As Light Before Dawn: The Inner World of a Medieval Kabbalist (Stanford University Press, 2009). Fishbane was a 2011 recipient of the Charles A. Ryskamp Fellowship from the American Council of Learned Societies, and he was named a JTS Chancellor’s Fellow in 2015.

For additional information contact Program in Judaic Studies 451 College St., Rm. 301 Phone (203)432-0843 Fax (203)432-4889

OUR KIND

Lecture will be held at the

Whitney Humanities Center 53 Wall Street, Room 208 New Haven, CT 06511

Patron T. Spielberg

Silver Contributor Dan Feder David Applegate

Gold Contributor Abra Metz Dworkin

Donors C. Morales Ervolino Sam Lee Joshua Benton George E. Harris Laura Yao Ted Lee Michael Gerber Brendan Cottington Marisol Ryu Natasha Sarin Emily Barasch Marci McCoy

SPONSORS

THE BLACK LIST Aberration I’m never having sex on that carpet again!

Abrasion I’m never having sex on that carpet again!

When your high school sweet heart becomes a serial killer RIP my love for Zac Efron, 2007-2019.

Snapped necks Hands off my neck, dude!

Snapbacks No one snaps my back.

Dibs That’s my stuff, dude!

Ribs Too much bone.

Lil Uzi Vert When all your friends are dead.

gn for the ya le h

a m e . d l a er

w r

ite

m a i l f

w r it

u d .e

e yale h rald. e the

al e

wr ale hera y e h t r ite ld. e fo n ma ig s e il f d r io o

n e

tel@yale. t n e ed r d .

u a n o i

a.drenttel@ y a fion l e . ail e d u em write or d. d e s i g n

u ed le. ya

a l r d. emai e h e l a y l fio e h t na. r o dre f n u d e . g nt e i l a s y te e @ l l@ d e t t n or e sign for the y e r d r d ale o . e a he it r

ra w

l

r fo

h

ale.edu y @ l e t t en r d . a n o il fi

yale herald. email fio n r the a .d r n fo e n t sig t e l de @ ya or l e