This year’s Oscars were different from any show previous. The divergence was clear – this program had more music than ever before. Perhaps in an imitation of this year’s Grammys, which also had the most musical performances in its history, the Oscars had a penchant for bringing music back, in a bid to attract more viewers to a more song and dance oriented spectacle.
The Oscars were surprising in several other ways as well. Hugh Jackman, most famed for his turn as the X-Men mutant superhero Wolverine, exhibited none of that super masculine aura, instead offering a lighthearted, musically inspired side.
Surprisingly entertaining, he added to the event’s spectacle by singing, dancing, and joking his way through the awards ceremony. As he sang in the show’s opening number, “[N]o recession can stop my confession, or silence my song.” While Jackman was onstage, nothing did, though he was seen relatively little during the program compared to hosts of previous years.
The show was different from previous Oscars in other ways, which worked to both advantage and disadvantage. In an attempt to attract more viewers and keep them glued to the screen, as well as prevent the program from becoming stale and boring over the years, these Oscars featured more musical performances than any other.
Jackman sang and danced in both his opening number with Anne Hathaway, and a number dedicated to the return of the musical, which featured the young couples from 2008’s “Mamma Mia!” and teen hit “High School Musical 3.” Though these were well done, they also unfortunately added to the runtime of the show, making the creators of the Oscars break their promise of keeping the show under three and a half hours.
A medley of the three songs nominated for Best Song was a highlight, featuring exceptional performances from John Legend and A.R. Rahman. Choreography of the dancers in the background added to the sights and sounds of the whole affair. This worked to wake a sleepy viewer up in the midst of commercials and drawn-out presenters.
Celebrity musical accompaniment was again used to mixed effect during the “In Memoriam” segment, which paid tribute to those in the filmmaking industry who passed away during 2008. Queen Latifah sang an excellent rendition of “I’ll Be Seeing You,” which was neither overwrought nor underdone. However, it distracted from the simplicity of the memorial montage, making it more about Latifah’s performance than the people being remembered. At times, it was difficult to make out names on the screen or see the figures because of the zoomed out camera angle.
There were no real surprises in the awards themselves, however. Danny Boyle’s “Slumdog Millionaire” swept, taking eight awards, including those for Best Picture, Director, Cinematography, and Adapted Screenplay. As expected, Heath Ledger won Best Supporting Actor for his outstanding performance in “The Dark Knight;” Sean Penn and Kate Winslet were no surprises in the Best Actor and Actress categories. The only small departure from what was expected was in the Foreign-Language Film category, where Japan’s “Departures” trumped Israel’s “Waltz With Bashir.”
The Oscars this year were charmingly surprising in terms of musical influence. But overall, the show and spectacle came across as overblown. In today’s tough economic times, the Academy might have chosen a more modest approach.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Edited Review Outline
The review in a nutshell: introduction as to what the album is, a little background on Andrew Bird and a couple of other artists provided for reference; what makes the album distinct; what brings the album together; specific examples provided throughout (i.e. alliteration, ability to play with language). Small amount of wrap-up, information about companion disc, "Useless Creatures."
A Plethora of Sound Available on “Noble Beast” Part Deux
Andrew Bird has done it again. With his newest release, “Noble Beast,” the Chicago-based singer-songwriter has created another unique and diverse album, influenced by everything from the singer’s classical training to sounds heard on his Illinois farm. The result is a record that’s gentler and mellower in comparison to his earlier work.
The follow-up to Bird’s 2007 “Armchair Apocrypha,” itself critically acclaimed, this new record was self-produced. It bears comparison to other folk/indie rock albums such as Sufjan Steven’s “Come On Feel The Illinoise!” or Iron & Wine’s “Woman King,” both 2005 releases.
But what makes this disc great is the diversity of tracks it contains; every song is different. It opens with the infectious, fast-paced, “Oh No,” partly inspired by a child’s cries on an airplane. The track automatically hooks the listener with Bird’s characteristic whistling and wide range of vocals.
Contrast this with the more electric feel of “Not A Robot, But A Ghost,” which makes effective use of oboe and a crackling electric guitar. The song and Bird’s voice at its highest are oddly similar to “Gong,” by Icelandic slow-motion rockers Sigur Ros. Similarly, “Fitz and Dizzyspells” utilizes an electric violin to draw the listener into the song.
Bird has been inspired by vastly different sources in making this record. Trips to Chicago’s Field Museum and the Garfield Park conservatory were responsible for the folk-influenced ballad “Natural History.” In an odd twist, the introduction to “Souverian” bears an uncanny resemblance to the start of The Buena Vista Social Club’s “Pueblo Nuevo.” Whether this similarity was intentional is debatable – however, jazz was a large influence in Andrew Bird’s earlier career, so it’s possible.
Despite differences between individual songs throughout the album, the common thread of Bird’s voice, violin (and guitar) plucking and playing, and distinctive whistling unify this collection. His vocals are often given an echo effect, with tracks becoming spectral and inspiring as a result. The warm, rumbling drumming of Martin Dosh and the various instruments of the multitalented Jeremy Ylvisaker (including organ, shortwave, and guitar), also tie the album together.
Another subtle instrument that Bird uses to fashion this record into a whole is his ability to play with language. On “Noble Beast,” he shows a fascination with words. Whether it’s the “salsify mains” and “calcified arythmatists” of “Oh No,” the “proto-Sanskrit Minoans and porto-centric Lisboans” from “Tenuousness,” or the kittens with pleurisy in “Natural History,” it’s clear that Bird has a penchant for toying with odd words. More remarkable is his ability to use them fluidly in his songs without sounding clunky or awkward.
Use of alliteration adds to this sense of playing with language as well. “Fitz and Dizzyness” gives the listener “crooks and craggy cliffs” while “Masterswarm features “flailing feudal fleas feeding from the arms of the master.” Together with Bird’s wikipedia-worthy references, this creates an engaging aural experience that rewards close listeners, making this an increasingly satisfying record on repeat listenings. “Noble Beast” can be purchased on its own or in a deluxe edition that includes its companion instrumental disc, “Useless Creatures.”
The follow-up to Bird’s 2007 “Armchair Apocrypha,” itself critically acclaimed, this new record was self-produced. It bears comparison to other folk/indie rock albums such as Sufjan Steven’s “Come On Feel The Illinoise!” or Iron & Wine’s “Woman King,” both 2005 releases.
But what makes this disc great is the diversity of tracks it contains; every song is different. It opens with the infectious, fast-paced, “Oh No,” partly inspired by a child’s cries on an airplane. The track automatically hooks the listener with Bird’s characteristic whistling and wide range of vocals.
Contrast this with the more electric feel of “Not A Robot, But A Ghost,” which makes effective use of oboe and a crackling electric guitar. The song and Bird’s voice at its highest are oddly similar to “Gong,” by Icelandic slow-motion rockers Sigur Ros. Similarly, “Fitz and Dizzyspells” utilizes an electric violin to draw the listener into the song.
Bird has been inspired by vastly different sources in making this record. Trips to Chicago’s Field Museum and the Garfield Park conservatory were responsible for the folk-influenced ballad “Natural History.” In an odd twist, the introduction to “Souverian” bears an uncanny resemblance to the start of The Buena Vista Social Club’s “Pueblo Nuevo.” Whether this similarity was intentional is debatable – however, jazz was a large influence in Andrew Bird’s earlier career, so it’s possible.
Despite differences between individual songs throughout the album, the common thread of Bird’s voice, violin (and guitar) plucking and playing, and distinctive whistling unify this collection. His vocals are often given an echo effect, with tracks becoming spectral and inspiring as a result. The warm, rumbling drumming of Martin Dosh and the various instruments of the multitalented Jeremy Ylvisaker (including organ, shortwave, and guitar), also tie the album together.
Another subtle instrument that Bird uses to fashion this record into a whole is his ability to play with language. On “Noble Beast,” he shows a fascination with words. Whether it’s the “salsify mains” and “calcified arythmatists” of “Oh No,” the “proto-Sanskrit Minoans and porto-centric Lisboans” from “Tenuousness,” or the kittens with pleurisy in “Natural History,” it’s clear that Bird has a penchant for toying with odd words. More remarkable is his ability to use them fluidly in his songs without sounding clunky or awkward.
Use of alliteration adds to this sense of playing with language as well. “Fitz and Dizzyness” gives the listener “crooks and craggy cliffs” while “Masterswarm features “flailing feudal fleas feeding from the arms of the master.” Together with Bird’s wikipedia-worthy references, this creates an engaging aural experience that rewards close listeners, making this an increasingly satisfying record on repeat listenings. “Noble Beast” can be purchased on its own or in a deluxe edition that includes its companion instrumental disc, “Useless Creatures.”
Thursday, February 5, 2009
A Plethora of Sound Available on “Noble Beast” (1st version)
Andrew Bird has done it again. With his latest release, “Noble Beast,” he’s created an album composed of a diverse group of songs influenced by everything from the singer’s classical training, to sounds heard on his Illinois farm, to a small child’s cries on an airplane trip. The result is simply fantastic.
What makes this record truly great is the widely different array of tracks it contains. Every song is different. It opens with the infectiously catchy, fast-paced, “Oh No,” which was partly inspired by a child’s cries on an airplane. The track almost automatically hooks the listener with Bird’s characteristic whistling and vocals. Contrast this with the more electric feel of “Not A Robot, But A Ghost,” which makes effective use of oboe and a crackling electric guitar. The song and Bird’s voice at its highest range are oddly similar to “Gong,” by Icelandic slow-motion rockers Sigur Ros. Similarly, “Fitz and Dizzyspells” utilizes an electric violin to bring the listened into the song.
The album also contains more traditonally inspired songs. Trips to Chicago’s Field Museum and the Garfield Park conservatory were partly responsible for the folk-influenced ballad “Natural History.” Looking still further back, the introduction to “Souverian” bears an uncanny resemblance to the start of The Buena Vista Social Club’s “Pueblo Nuevo.” Whether this similarity was intentional is debatable – Andrew Bird is known to have been highly influenced by jazz earlier in his career.
Despite the differences between songs throughout the album, the common thread of Bird’s voice, violin plucking and playing, and distinctive whistling unify this collection. Quite often the vocals are given an echo effect; this can be heard on tracks such as “Oh No,” “Masterswarm,” “Fitz and the Dizzyspells,” “The Privateer,” and “Souverian.” The result is spectral and inspiring. The warm, rumbling drumming of Martin Dosh and the various instruments of the multitalented Jeremy Ylvisaker (including organ, shortwave, and guitar), also help tie the album together.
Another subtle instrument that Bird uses to fashion this record into a whole is his ability to play with language. On “Noble Beast,” he clearly shows a fascination with words, even if they’re being used for their texture and not their context. Whether it’s the “salsify mains” and “calcified arythmatists” of “Oh No,” the “proto-Sanskrit Minoans and porto-centric Lisboans” from “Tenuousness,” or the kittens with pleurisy in “Natural History,” it’s obvious that Bird has a penchant for playing with odd words. Even more remarkable is his ability to make them work in his songs without sounding clunky or awkward.
The use of alliteration adds to this sense of playing with language as well. “Fitz and Dizzyness” gives the listener “crooks and craggy cliffs” while “Masterswarm features “flailing feudal fleas feeding from the arms of the master.” Together with Bird’s wikipedia-worthy references, this creates an engaging aural experience that rewards close listeners.
For Andrew Bird fans, “Noble Beast” is an absolute necessity. Those looking to get into his music would do well to purchase it as well. And for the true fans, there’s a deluxe edition available, with a copy of the entirely instrumental companion disk, “Useless Creatures,” included. Both are a fantastic addition to any collection.
What makes this record truly great is the widely different array of tracks it contains. Every song is different. It opens with the infectiously catchy, fast-paced, “Oh No,” which was partly inspired by a child’s cries on an airplane. The track almost automatically hooks the listener with Bird’s characteristic whistling and vocals. Contrast this with the more electric feel of “Not A Robot, But A Ghost,” which makes effective use of oboe and a crackling electric guitar. The song and Bird’s voice at its highest range are oddly similar to “Gong,” by Icelandic slow-motion rockers Sigur Ros. Similarly, “Fitz and Dizzyspells” utilizes an electric violin to bring the listened into the song.
The album also contains more traditonally inspired songs. Trips to Chicago’s Field Museum and the Garfield Park conservatory were partly responsible for the folk-influenced ballad “Natural History.” Looking still further back, the introduction to “Souverian” bears an uncanny resemblance to the start of The Buena Vista Social Club’s “Pueblo Nuevo.” Whether this similarity was intentional is debatable – Andrew Bird is known to have been highly influenced by jazz earlier in his career.
Despite the differences between songs throughout the album, the common thread of Bird’s voice, violin plucking and playing, and distinctive whistling unify this collection. Quite often the vocals are given an echo effect; this can be heard on tracks such as “Oh No,” “Masterswarm,” “Fitz and the Dizzyspells,” “The Privateer,” and “Souverian.” The result is spectral and inspiring. The warm, rumbling drumming of Martin Dosh and the various instruments of the multitalented Jeremy Ylvisaker (including organ, shortwave, and guitar), also help tie the album together.
Another subtle instrument that Bird uses to fashion this record into a whole is his ability to play with language. On “Noble Beast,” he clearly shows a fascination with words, even if they’re being used for their texture and not their context. Whether it’s the “salsify mains” and “calcified arythmatists” of “Oh No,” the “proto-Sanskrit Minoans and porto-centric Lisboans” from “Tenuousness,” or the kittens with pleurisy in “Natural History,” it’s obvious that Bird has a penchant for playing with odd words. Even more remarkable is his ability to make them work in his songs without sounding clunky or awkward.
The use of alliteration adds to this sense of playing with language as well. “Fitz and Dizzyness” gives the listener “crooks and craggy cliffs” while “Masterswarm features “flailing feudal fleas feeding from the arms of the master.” Together with Bird’s wikipedia-worthy references, this creates an engaging aural experience that rewards close listeners.
For Andrew Bird fans, “Noble Beast” is an absolute necessity. Those looking to get into his music would do well to purchase it as well. And for the true fans, there’s a deluxe edition available, with a copy of the entirely instrumental companion disk, “Useless Creatures,” included. Both are a fantastic addition to any collection.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Response to Wilde's "The Critic as Artist"
Oscar Wilde's positions on how the critic functions in art seem to fly in the face of what one would conventionally think; on closer inspection and explanation, however, they're perfectly logical.
Among the most controversial is his statement that "[i]t is very much more difficult to talk about a thing than to do it." In other words, it's harder to critique an action or subject than it was to complete that action or create that subject. Another contestable claim is his position that "the highest Criticism [...] is, in its way, more creative than creation," that analysis of, say, a statue, is more creative than the fashioning of the statue itself.
Wilde also makes claims that criticism is necessary to foster truly good works of art; without criticism there can be no art, though it can exist without art. In addition, he states that criticism is higher than art because it lends the art form interpretations that the artist may not have intended.
In using a dialogue between two characters, the structure of this essay is unique. It also allows Wilde to make his points in an easily accessible way: Gilbert is clearly more intellectual than Ernest, and as such is trying to make his argument such that Ernest can understand it. So, we are put in the shoes of Ernest, and made to see everything the way Wilde, through the voice of Gilbert, wants us to. The subject's also more entertaining as presented, and reminiscent of the works of the ancient Greek philosophers.
I do agree with Wilde's position in this case, though perhaps not to the extreme extent in which he's written it. Criticism does foster the arts, by encouraging what is good to continue and discouraging what is bad. It also spurs artists on to attempt new forms of creation, in its best form. And it is true that the interpretations critics can lend to works of art lift the greatest criticisms above the works themselves, as they require a degree of creativity sometimes higher than the artist exhibited in their creation.
Having done a minimal amount of reviewing myself, I also agree that it's really difficult to do a good critique of anything. Actions are often committed in the heat of the moment, inspired by passion or other emotions, and thus in many cases would seem easier than the process of writing. So I'm with Wilde in that it's harder to write than to do. The one area where I'd contest him a little is his supreme emphasis on criticism as more creative than creation. Criticism is highly valuable and creative, but to the extent he glorifies it, I'm not in agreement with him.
Advice From "Elements Of Style"
I'd like to incorporate Strunk and White's advice about omitting needless words into my writing. More than I'd like to admit, I'll use unnecessary words only for the purpose of reaching the necessary word count, or the required amount of pages. Reducing my verbosity, therefore, entails more than just cutting down on superfluous content in my writing; this means I'll have to get to work on projects earlier, so I'll have time to put in more content and less fluff. This gives me the ability to edit out the words I then won't need.
The section on "Misused Words and Expressions" can help me as well. Since it acts basically as a condensed version of the AP Stylebook (minus a great deal of the technical aspects, and obviously not so in-depth), this section makes for great reference material on those niggling details that a writer often forgets. Additionally, the advice given often provides ways to cut back on unnecessary words, another tool that I can use to reach my goal of writing more vitally.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
"Taxi to the Dark Side" Shocks and Enlightens

The film, which Gibney directed, wrote, narrated, and produced, won the 2008 Oscar for Best Documentary. At its core is the story of an Afghani taxi driver known as Dilawar, who in 2002 was killed as the result of torture he suffered at the hands of American soldiers in Afghanistan's Bagram Air Base.
Through Dilawar's story, "Taxi to the Dark Side" explores the torture used on suspected terrorists in the infamous Abu Ghraib prison and Guantanamo Bay detention center, as well as taking a close look at what happened in Bagram itself. Utilizing a combination of archived footage of past interviews, dramatizations of the film's events, and interviews with U.S. soldiers who worked in the prisons as well as with a former Bagram detainee, the film works to provide a convincing and heartstopping portrayal of the atrocities that were committed under U.S. orders.
The film asks the hard questions: "Why is torture being utilized, despite the restricting guidelines of the Geneva Conventions?," "Who is responsible for the orders to torture?," and, more subtly, but very importantly, "How can these soldiers, seemingly normal people, be responsible for such cruelty?" And it answers them all, providing solid evidence throughout.
One such scene that highlights this concrete evidence is a snippet from an archived interview the late Tim Russert conducted with former vice president Dick Cheney, which also provides part of the film's title. Conducted only days after the September 11th attacks, the clip sends chills down the spine in capturing Cheney declaring "we also have to work the dark side, if you will. We've got to spend time in the shadows in the intelligence world."
This leads one to question just how far the U.S. should go in order to protect itself from would-be terrorists, and thoughts about how long one can be immersed in these dehumanizing procedures before being corrupted by them. Indeed, several former guards and interrogators speak of how some were driven to "go beyond the pale," in interrogations, and how while in the prison system "you lose your moral bearings" and are "morally isolated" from society.
All that matters while in these detention centers is getting information out of the detainees in the easiest way possible. In this, the film is similar to Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 "Apocalypse Now," which provides a perfect example of the ideal soldier, Walter Kurtz, and his slow descent into madness after considerable exposure to the horrors of war and the utter primality of human nature. These soldiers have experienced a lighter version of the degradations committed in Cambodia, and the photographs of prisoner abuse in Abu Ghraib bear a grotesque similarity to Kurtz's compound in the jungle.
The lighting and soundtrack of "Taxi" work similarly to that of Coppola's film, though not to nearly as dramatic an effect. Both accentuate the serious and somber mood that pervades the film due to the shocking nature of the footage and interview accounts, especially in several reenactments of torture and prisoner abuse. To be an informed citizen in today's world, anddue to its excellent quality,"Taxi to the Dark Side" is a must-see.
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