Monday, February 22, 2010
Final Piece Pitch
I intend to write my final piece on gender roles in children's television shows. As a babysitter and older sister I find myself watching a lot of television intended for children of ages from 2 to 13, and although I'm not intricately knowledgeable of any of them, I know most of the major plot points. I'm not sure if I should aim more toward 2-6 age shows or 6-13 age shows, because although the older shows involve more typical gender profiling—girly girls and tough, rowdy boys—younger television shows have a greater impact on the child, and may be a more important topic.
For young children's television shows I could use programs like "Higglytown Heroes," "Maya and Miguel," and "Max and Ruby." For older children's television shows I could use examples from "6teen," "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody," and "iCarly."
The way girls and boys are portrayed in children's television shows has a great impact on how children expect each gender to act and interact with one another. Expectations and presumptions formulated early in childhood carry on throughout life and determine the way these future adults will treat each other. Kids are most susceptible to things they see on TV and therefore the ideas conveyed through television shows are an important part of children's development: it is important that those ideas be constructive and equal rather than sexist.
Pauline Kael Revision
A Criticism of Kael's Criticism
Pauline Kael, one of the most famous and influential film critics, abandoned her intentions of law school to pursue her passion for writing. Her writing is as enthusiastic as her love for movies, and her knowledge of movies, actors, and directors was vast. Her taste was for lowbrow art, her writing is anything but academic, and her opinions often differed drastically from much of the critical world. For all of these reasons I should—and want to—love Pauline Kael and her independent spirit, but I do not.
Kael's vulgar, repetitive vocabulary does not bother me: the "whore" and the "trash" and the "horny" do not phase my teenage mind in the current era of violence and profanities. Her individualistic opinions do not tarnish my image of her. Even her belligerent attitude toward popular films, given her tendency to pan films, "She hardly praises a movie any more," Renata Adler writes in "House Critic," does not bother me.
Pauline Kael's snobbish and conceited attitude toward her audience is repulsive. Thinking herself a lover of movies more than anyone else Kael quoted in Afterglow, a book of interviews prepared by jazz critic Francis Davis, "I always assumed that movies had meant as much to them as they did to me. But they hadn't." And although no one can contest Kael's love for film, she uses this admiration as a justification to speak as the most knowledgeable person in regards to movies. She writes, "But, oh, God, why isn't it better? Why isn't there the daring and the exaltation that our senses fairly cry out for?" speaking on behalf of all audience members and their senses, as if her opinion is that of a constant truth.
In addition to criticizing films in her reviews, specifically "Hiroshima Mon Amour," Kael criticizes both educated people and other film critics. In the opening paragraph, Kael admonishes educated audiences who enjoy foreign or experimental films, accusing them of using film for the wrong purpose. According to Kael, movies are intended for an escape "from the tensions of their complex lives and work," rather than for an appreciation of "movies as an art." This rule is extremely frustrating, begging the question of what right Pauline Kael has to decide what functions films should or shouldn't have, or how the public should perceive them. Later, Kael criticizes the opinions of various critics. Her grounds for disapproval seem to simply be her own opinion which contradicts them.
Although unarguably influential, Pauline Kael was unnecessarily belligerent and pretentious in both the reviews she wrote during her career and in the ways that she looked back on her life during her interview in "Afterglow: A Last Conversation with Pauline Kael."
Pauline Kael, one of the most famous and influential film critics, abandoned her intentions of law school to pursue her passion for writing. Her writing is as enthusiastic as her love for movies, and her knowledge of movies, actors, and directors was vast. Her taste was for lowbrow art, her writing is anything but academic, and her opinions often differed drastically from much of the critical world. For all of these reasons I should—and want to—love Pauline Kael and her independent spirit, but I do not.
Kael's vulgar, repetitive vocabulary does not bother me: the "whore" and the "trash" and the "horny" do not phase my teenage mind in the current era of violence and profanities. Her individualistic opinions do not tarnish my image of her. Even her belligerent attitude toward popular films, given her tendency to pan films, "She hardly praises a movie any more," Renata Adler writes in "House Critic," does not bother me.
Pauline Kael's snobbish and conceited attitude toward her audience is repulsive. Thinking herself a lover of movies more than anyone else Kael quoted in Afterglow, a book of interviews prepared by jazz critic Francis Davis, "I always assumed that movies had meant as much to them as they did to me. But they hadn't." And although no one can contest Kael's love for film, she uses this admiration as a justification to speak as the most knowledgeable person in regards to movies. She writes, "But, oh, God, why isn't it better? Why isn't there the daring and the exaltation that our senses fairly cry out for?" speaking on behalf of all audience members and their senses, as if her opinion is that of a constant truth.
In addition to criticizing films in her reviews, specifically "Hiroshima Mon Amour," Kael criticizes both educated people and other film critics. In the opening paragraph, Kael admonishes educated audiences who enjoy foreign or experimental films, accusing them of using film for the wrong purpose. According to Kael, movies are intended for an escape "from the tensions of their complex lives and work," rather than for an appreciation of "movies as an art." This rule is extremely frustrating, begging the question of what right Pauline Kael has to decide what functions films should or shouldn't have, or how the public should perceive them. Later, Kael criticizes the opinions of various critics. Her grounds for disapproval seem to simply be her own opinion which contradicts them.
Although unarguably influential, Pauline Kael was unnecessarily belligerent and pretentious in both the reviews she wrote during her career and in the ways that she looked back on her life during her interview in "Afterglow: A Last Conversation with Pauline Kael."
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Criticism of Kael's Criticism
Pauline Kael abandoned her intentions of law school to pursue her passion for writing. Her writing is as enthusiastic as her love for movies, and her knowledge of movies, actors, and directors was vast. Her taste was for lowbrow art, her writing is anything but academic, and her opinions often differed drastically from much of the critical world. For all of these reasons I should—and want to—love Pauline Kael and her independent spirit, but I do not.
Kael's vulgar, repetitive vocabulary does not bother me: the "whore" and the "trash" and the "horny" do not phase my teenage mind. Her individualistic opinions do not tarnish my image of her—though I wonder how many of those opinions are how she really feels or simply for the sake of being independent. Even her belligerent attitude toward popular films, given her tendency to pan films, "She hardly praises a movie any more," Renata Adler writes, does not bother me.
Pauline Kael's snobbish and conceited attitude toward her audience is repulsive. Thinking herself a lover of movies more than anyone else Kael says, "I always assumed that movies had meant as much to them as they did to me. But they hadn't." And although no one can contest Kael's love for film, she uses this admiration as a justification to speak as the most knowledgeable person in regards to movies. She writes, "But, oh, God, why isn't it better? Why isn't there the daring and the exaltation that our senses fairly cry out for?" speaking on behalf of all audience members and their senses, as if her opinion is that of a constant truth.
In addition to criticizing films in her reviews, specifically "Hiroshima Mon Amour," Kael criticizes both educated people and other film critics. In the opening paragraph, Kael admonishes educated audiences who enjoy foreign or experimental films, accusing them of using film for the wrong purpose. According to Kael, movies are intended for an escape "from the tensions of their complex lives and work," rather than for an appreciation of "movies as an art." This rule is extremely frustrating, begging the question of what right Pauline Kael has to decide what functions films should or shouldn't have, or how the public should perceive them. Later, Kael criticizes the opinions of various critics. Her grounds for disapproval seem to simply be her own opinion which contradicts them.
Although unarguably influential, Pauline Kael was unnecessarily belligerent and pretentious in both the reviews she wrote during her career and in the ways that she looked back on her life during her interview in "Afterglow."
Kael's vulgar, repetitive vocabulary does not bother me: the "whore" and the "trash" and the "horny" do not phase my teenage mind. Her individualistic opinions do not tarnish my image of her—though I wonder how many of those opinions are how she really feels or simply for the sake of being independent. Even her belligerent attitude toward popular films, given her tendency to pan films, "She hardly praises a movie any more," Renata Adler writes, does not bother me.
Pauline Kael's snobbish and conceited attitude toward her audience is repulsive. Thinking herself a lover of movies more than anyone else Kael says, "I always assumed that movies had meant as much to them as they did to me. But they hadn't." And although no one can contest Kael's love for film, she uses this admiration as a justification to speak as the most knowledgeable person in regards to movies. She writes, "But, oh, God, why isn't it better? Why isn't there the daring and the exaltation that our senses fairly cry out for?" speaking on behalf of all audience members and their senses, as if her opinion is that of a constant truth.
In addition to criticizing films in her reviews, specifically "Hiroshima Mon Amour," Kael criticizes both educated people and other film critics. In the opening paragraph, Kael admonishes educated audiences who enjoy foreign or experimental films, accusing them of using film for the wrong purpose. According to Kael, movies are intended for an escape "from the tensions of their complex lives and work," rather than for an appreciation of "movies as an art." This rule is extremely frustrating, begging the question of what right Pauline Kael has to decide what functions films should or shouldn't have, or how the public should perceive them. Later, Kael criticizes the opinions of various critics. Her grounds for disapproval seem to simply be her own opinion which contradicts them.
Although unarguably influential, Pauline Kael was unnecessarily belligerent and pretentious in both the reviews she wrote during her career and in the ways that she looked back on her life during her interview in "Afterglow."
Alastair Macaulay: A Humble Authority
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/12/arts/dance/12opus.html
Alastair Macaulay is a busy man. As the chief theater critic of The Financial Times and the chief dance critic of both The Times Literary Supplement and The New York Times, he is expected to write well-informed pieces demonstrating the highest of authority concerning dance and theater, and he does so in "Wheeldon's 'Ghosts,' Haunted by Dead Choreographers Society" in Friday's Arts section.
The striking photo and clever title drew me in, and Macaulay gives his opinion of the dance in the very first sentence: "Very few ballet makers today create movement that is as completely dancy as Christopher Wheeldon does…that for nine years have placed this still young choreographer in high national and international demand." Throughout the piece Macaulay describes the movements, set, and costume with such grace that shows his enthusiasm for the work, and though in the end Macaulay criticizes the lack of meaning conveyed, writing, "'Ghosts' is strong on atmosphere but mighty thin on meaning," his overall appreciation of the film shines through.
As the title suggests, "Ghosts" draws from many previous choreographers, and Macaulay touches on many of these similarities. Although he addresses an audience familiar with dance, "If you've seen a few Wheeldon ballets…" his description of each allows any audience to follow along easily. Here he derives his authority, with his vast knowledge of dance conducted without being pretentious.
Alastair Macaulay is a busy man. As the chief theater critic of The Financial Times and the chief dance critic of both The Times Literary Supplement and The New York Times, he is expected to write well-informed pieces demonstrating the highest of authority concerning dance and theater, and he does so in "Wheeldon's 'Ghosts,' Haunted by Dead Choreographers Society" in Friday's Arts section.
The striking photo and clever title drew me in, and Macaulay gives his opinion of the dance in the very first sentence: "Very few ballet makers today create movement that is as completely dancy as Christopher Wheeldon does…that for nine years have placed this still young choreographer in high national and international demand." Throughout the piece Macaulay describes the movements, set, and costume with such grace that shows his enthusiasm for the work, and though in the end Macaulay criticizes the lack of meaning conveyed, writing, "'Ghosts' is strong on atmosphere but mighty thin on meaning," his overall appreciation of the film shines through.
As the title suggests, "Ghosts" draws from many previous choreographers, and Macaulay touches on many of these similarities. Although he addresses an audience familiar with dance, "If you've seen a few Wheeldon ballets…" his description of each allows any audience to follow along easily. Here he derives his authority, with his vast knowledge of dance conducted without being pretentious.
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Tables Have Turned: English Professors Present Readings to Students
Each letter grade and comment on a student's paper is received with the assumption that the professor behind that red pen is a great writer. Every year the English department faculty has a chance to prove that assumption by reading a piece or two of their own work at the English Faculty Reading. On Wednesday students crowded into the Olmsted room to listen, judge, and enjoy the presentations that their own professors put together. The professors found themselves in a familiar position—at the head of the room—though not to teach but to share.
The first to share after a welcome by Gail Griffin was Andy Mozina with "My Non-Sexual Affair." He read not with energy and vigor but with discomfort and awkwardness as if telling a boyhood friend about a wrong he had just committed—unsure if he should be excited or guilty. His witty humor cause the crowd to burst into laughter while other readers chose a more somber tone.
Gail Griffin revisited the horror that was the murder-suicide of Maggie Wardle and Neenef Odah ten years ago on campus. Her personal account of the story, well known to most Kalamazoo College students, was moving, leaving the audience silent in respect both for Maggie and Dr. Griffin.
Another moving performance was that of Marin Heinritz as she told the story of her mother with the love and understanding that only a daughter could. Dr. Heinritz seemed to be on the verge of tears by the end of her reading, making her segment all the more captivating and powerful.
On the opposite end of the scale was Babli Sinha's piece on the "New Woman" of India. Reading like a research paper, the performance was arid and left many listeners uninterested. Although well researched and well informed, Dr. Sinha's informative lecture was pitted against the lively storytelling of many of the other readers and left as an outcast that night.
Di Seuss shared her piece titled "It wasn't a dream, I knew William Burroughs" a provocative poem about her encounter with the Naked Lunch author. She read, "He would have peed on my poetry but loved my porn." Outlandish and unapologetic, her piece received a variety of claps and whoops from the audience.
Both Beth Marzoni and Amy Rodgers shared pieces about academic exploration, appropriate for an audience of college students. Dr. Marzoni recreated the thoughts and feelings she experienced while visiting Rothko's Room in London, a room filled with the art of Mark Rothko. Dr. Rodgers told her secret of the times she snuck away from her studying to do a little detective work in the library on the son of Robert Frost, Carol. Her excitement of the subject alone kept the story alive and interesting, whether or not anyone in the audience had heard of Carol Frost.
The night ended with a reading by Bruce Mills about his son's autism. This touching tale told of the misunderstandings and confusion so common between parent and child. Dr. Mills gave the audience a different perspective on a lifestyle concerning a condition that is becoming more and more common in today's world.
The night was over. All of the professors had proved their writing skills great, and along the way honored the audience by sharing themselves and providing a few life lessons.
Audience: The Index
The first to share after a welcome by Gail Griffin was Andy Mozina with "My Non-Sexual Affair." He read not with energy and vigor but with discomfort and awkwardness as if telling a boyhood friend about a wrong he had just committed—unsure if he should be excited or guilty. His witty humor cause the crowd to burst into laughter while other readers chose a more somber tone.
Gail Griffin revisited the horror that was the murder-suicide of Maggie Wardle and Neenef Odah ten years ago on campus. Her personal account of the story, well known to most Kalamazoo College students, was moving, leaving the audience silent in respect both for Maggie and Dr. Griffin.
Another moving performance was that of Marin Heinritz as she told the story of her mother with the love and understanding that only a daughter could. Dr. Heinritz seemed to be on the verge of tears by the end of her reading, making her segment all the more captivating and powerful.
On the opposite end of the scale was Babli Sinha's piece on the "New Woman" of India. Reading like a research paper, the performance was arid and left many listeners uninterested. Although well researched and well informed, Dr. Sinha's informative lecture was pitted against the lively storytelling of many of the other readers and left as an outcast that night.
Di Seuss shared her piece titled "It wasn't a dream, I knew William Burroughs" a provocative poem about her encounter with the Naked Lunch author. She read, "He would have peed on my poetry but loved my porn." Outlandish and unapologetic, her piece received a variety of claps and whoops from the audience.
Both Beth Marzoni and Amy Rodgers shared pieces about academic exploration, appropriate for an audience of college students. Dr. Marzoni recreated the thoughts and feelings she experienced while visiting Rothko's Room in London, a room filled with the art of Mark Rothko. Dr. Rodgers told her secret of the times she snuck away from her studying to do a little detective work in the library on the son of Robert Frost, Carol. Her excitement of the subject alone kept the story alive and interesting, whether or not anyone in the audience had heard of Carol Frost.
The night ended with a reading by Bruce Mills about his son's autism. This touching tale told of the misunderstandings and confusion so common between parent and child. Dr. Mills gave the audience a different perspective on a lifestyle concerning a condition that is becoming more and more common in today's world.
The night was over. All of the professors had proved their writing skills great, and along the way honored the audience by sharing themselves and providing a few life lessons.
Audience: The Index
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
