Rhapsody in Blue... white, yellow, red, & black

I realize the song “Rhapsody in Blue” is a little jazzier than boogie-woogie style tunes. Nevertheless, George Gershwin’s masterpiece immediately came to mind when I envisioned Piet Mondrian’s painting Broadway Boogie-Woogie, which I've seen hanging in the MoMA; the song’s order and rhythm for me speaks to the De Stijl art movement, which features paintings with white backgrounds, black grids, and an alternating pattern of the three primary colors. Broadway Boogie-Woogie differs from Mondrian’s usual style in that it is based on realism: the vibrant city streets of New York and their own special grid-like organization. That inspired me to try and bring in some sounds of Broadway music, mingled with the ubiquitous sounds of traffic and crowd chatter. Yet, I chose to have the piece end with a melodic, orderly portion of “Rhapsody in Blue” because I believe the painting is about finding harmony among the chaos.

Projects like this allow for a different creative outlet, and can speak to art historical sensibilities, which I enjoy. The software requires some patience, though, so I wonder what age set a project like this might be best for. Maybe middle school and up?

Internet Podcasts Set Storytelling Stage

While not a regular podcast fan, I am the daughter of an avid National Public Radio-listening mother. I'm so thankful for this upbringing because I believe it has led to my own interest in talk radio, and subsequently, podcast storytelling. Much of my childhood featured a soft-spoken talk radio soundtrack provided by WBEZ, or the not-so-dulcet tones of The McLaughlin Group's political thoughts on PBS...            ["Bye Bye!"]

In a culture where video media reigns supreme, audio podcasts have cemented their value. One podcast episode of NPR's This American Life has left a particularly indelible mark on me. This episode, "Mr. Daisey and the Apple Factory," aired in 2012. A show known for its truthful ruminations on-- you guessed it-- aspects of American life, T.A.L. audiences were shaken by Mike Daisey's tale of visiting the Shenzhen factory in China where Apple products are manufactured and the unimaginable horrors he encountered of the workers' living/working conditions.

What T.A.L. either failed to realize or flat-out ignored when they greenlit this episode is that Daisey is a monologist, a performer. Almost immediately after the episode aired, NPR retracted and removed the episode due to multiple "fabrications." Yes, there were fabrications because Daisey is a storyteller who utilized his access to one of the nation's top audio platforms and shared a tragic warning of what could be in our fast-paced, techno-driven future when we ignore "hand-made" objects and the hands that construct pieces of our lives. However, I wonder if it was really appropriate for Daisey to share this story without revealing to NPR that its contents were not entirely truthful? (Or is that the whole story? Did NPR possible know ahead of time and merely responded to audience backlash? The world may never know.)

I had the honor and privilege to see Daisey perform this piece in Washington, DC, and his story is even more visceral in person, due in no small part to his larger-than-life persona and the weight of his tale. That the spoken word remains so powerful via podcasts in the 21st century is truly exciting, and I look forward to discovering what stories unfold next. Let us consider how podcasts can be used not only as a nonfiction outlet, but also as a storytelling medium.

Stop Motion Animation: "The Fall"

This stop motion animation conveys the visual art concept of movement through the act of falling with a single magazine cut-out. Enjoy!

Stop (Motion Animation) In the Name Of Love

Why do I advocate for educational stop motion animation projects? Because I myself made one in high school:

Granted, the animation speed is about twice as fast as it needs to be in comparison to the transition slides, but I remain proud of this work that combined my then-strong fascination with lawn gnomes with an ongoing love of Parisian culture into a cute little video.

I recently took a college-level course in digital animation, during which I discovered that the 18 and up set still loves making stop motion animation. While some classmates pushed toys and other easily manipulated objects in front of the camera lens, my project features more cut-paper animation:

Why, then, do students of all ages get so much out of this art form? I believe it speaks to our intrinsic human desire for storytelling. Art is filled with stories, but sometimes the chosen media can hinder more than help "performances." Students who are young and old, familiar with tech or not can easily grasp the mechanics needed to make an object move across the screen. All it takes is a little push from the student's hand to move the object, and another push to click the button of the camera to capture a still frame. Move the object enough times and push the button enough, then process in a computer program and you’ve got yourself a movie!

Stop motion animation is a democratic medium, one that – thanks to the magic of photography – ensures what students place in front of the lens will reappear onscreen. It doesn't require the skill sets associated with other art forms, such as drawing or sculpture creation, which students who don’t consider themselves “artists” and/or lack confidence in these areas might worry will result in work that differs from what they “see” in their mind’s eye. I believe that, much like the theater arts I mentioned in my last post, stop motion animation is an ideal art medium to incorporate into new STEAM classroom curriculum because it's a prime example of creative project-based learning.