I planted the soles of my rarely-worn sneakers into the grassy terrain. My palms were sweating, I was in an awkward half-crouch, and the dew was beginning to creep uncomfortably towards my socks. It was once again time for 7th grade, first period gym class and, as I held my stance, I was contemplating Kelly Clarkson’s recent spectacular win on American Idol. This probably explains why the football that was hiked to me in the next instant made solid contact with my left cheekbone.
Though I have little zest for contact sports, I have always found myself consumed by (and having more luck with) the world of art. It is my solace from a bad day when I curl up in my comforter with a cup of steaming English Breakfast and my bookmarked copy of Poisonwood Bible. It is the Beach Boys concert that came unexpectedly to the town over from me in the bright budding month of May, my two best friends in tow, singing along to “God Only Knows” with no regard to pitch or tone. It is quoting, “Get back in the fiery water!” a hundred times over to my roommate, laughing until our abs seize up in protest. It is my comfort, challenge to my creativity, and reason for seeking to make myself a better person.
While I adore large-scale productions with dazzling scenery or explosive cinematography, sometimes the most gratifying art form is found in the minute. Like the narrator of Walt Whitman’s poem “When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer,” I (and probably most other college students) can easily reach a saturation point with the constant information rush that is the college lifestyle. The solution of Whitman’s tired traveler was, “Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself, / In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, / Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.” This is my motto when I consider the art I love most. Pinpricks of light that mean something different to everyone, transcendent of words.
Thus, I want to make the Boston College community feel the warmth I feel when I sit down and read a really excellent short story, or the impulse to skip like a five-year-old when I hear the opening piano chords to Coldplay’s “All the Lovers in Japan.” I hope to keep the arts section as a forum for dialogue of art appreciation. As a part of this plan, I hope to do many more previews of on-campus events, with interviews from students and administrators involved so that students can know about the work of their peers in advance. This, hopefully, will encourage more dialogue and attendence of campus events.
It is vital that while we may not all see the same pattern when we step outside to look at Whitman’s stars, that we step outside in the first place. This semester will bring many online changes to the Arts section, as I hope to institute blogs and student art slideshows (as a forum for photography, poems, paintings and the like). I will work with my fellow editors to produce podcasts and video blogs, which will hopefully include clips from a capella shows or comedy clips from improv groups. If you think you have an expertise in any of these new capacities, please come in and talk to us.
Really, if you have any ideas, comments, or complaints, never hesitate to contact me at houseka@bc.edu. I don’t purport to have any more arts knowledge than any of you — after all I was that girl that got hit in the face as a gym class quarterback — but I do want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make this section great. Come to our meetings on Sundays in the Eagle’s Nest and feel free to throw down over the reviews that were published. If you have a secret Colin Firth fetish and want to review his newest film, don’t be a stranger. Talk to us. We want you to be excited about what you write and what we publish. I can’t wait to represent the arts community in the coming year.
The Heights > Arts > The Scene
Taking A Look At The Stars
Published: Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Updated: Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Be the first to comment on this article!