For some reason we doubt that's an emergency call.

Performing arts don’t only demand prodigious skill, but a willingness to expose emotions, even if the exposure only occurs through an interpretation of someone else’s work.  This is why performing artists should be commended—not just for developing ability, but for risking emotional vulnerability in front of a subjective audience.  The interactions of performer with audience are very interesting, but almost commensurate in complexity is the behavioral response of an audience during a performance.

As depicted by a scene in the movie Amelie, viewing the rapt faces of an audience in a movie theater can be more entertaining than the film itself.  Not only can audience behavior be fascinating, but it can also be excruciatingly and infuriatingly distracting from the performance itself!  Fury, rather than fascination, was what audience behavior provoked in me during the Regina Opera’s performance of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and at the very least, massive irritation. The Regina Opera puts on performances in a venue identical in appearance to an elementary school auditorium, and they are practically an antithesis to the very behavior oriented Met, or City Opera.  Such a relaxed environment, in which latecomers are welcomed in, rather than glared at, and in which bottles of Scotch are raffled off during intermission, is conducive to loosening the etiquette of an audience.   However, the misfortune of being a friendly and relaxed opera company is that to some people it gives the impression that it’s acceptable to do whatever the hell you want during a performance.

Oh, yes.  They did.

The couple who sat behind me came in unabashedly late during the first scene, which was already high in tension (since Don Giovanni is accused of rape by Don Anna, and then proceeds to kill her father).  The man, who sat directly behind me began, as soon as he was fully seated, to kick my chair.  He then proceeded to bounce his leg rapidly, shaking my entire metal folding chair.  This was both uncomfortable and audible.  He also whispered wetly to the woman next to him.  She was not just an accomplice however, but his equal in crime.  The woman of the duo, who had arrogant and beady eyes, began with a rather stupendously cliche offense:  her phone began to ring, tinkling tunefully.   (So, not only were they late, but their phones were on, and they had noisy ringtones!)  Then, to truly mark her territory in the world of concert offenders, she didn’t even apologetically turn her phone off in a rushed manner.  She stared ahead, determined to not admit her wrongdoing, until I turned and gave her a foul look, after which she turned her phone off.

Oh, no, she wouldn't. (Oh, yes, she did.)

Then, crescendoing in her virtuosic performance of defiant rudeness, she began to chew gum.  This wouldn’t have been so bad if she had chewed gum like a normal person.  That is, silently!  Instead she actually cracked and popped and sucked on her gum like some sort of  beatboxer, which, I’ll say, didn’t really add anything to Don Giovanni.

Resigning myself to the role of the haughty audience glarer, I repeatedly turned around and  indicated with a frown that she quiet her salivating din, and repeatedly she would obediently stop and then, within a minute, begin cracking and popping again!  Ordinarily I would have dismissed this as an obnoxious pair, and wondered briefly “Why the hell did they come to the opera if they would rather kick, jiggle, and suck?”  But then during intermission, they truly imprinted themselves in my memory forever by actually having the gall to make friends with me as though I had not given them dirty looks during the whole first act, and made it intensely clear that I disliked them enormously.  As they asked me inane questions like “Are you an opera buff?” and “What do you think of teenagers and classical music?”, I  barely restrained myself from demanding, “Are you completely oblivious to social convention AND deaf to the amount of noise that you make???” and “What do you think of men who whisper and bounce their legs on other people’s chairs???”

They tell musicians who are playing the accompaniment “If you can’t hear the soloist you are too loud.”  If YOU, in the audience, can’t hear the soloist, you are certainly too loud.  If the audience members around you can’t hear the soloist, you are Obnoxious.  I don’t care how informal the venue is:  Don’t be rude.  Don’t giggle, bounce, suck and whisper.

So easy!

And that’s my rant.  Thank you, kindly. 

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Modernity…whether you like it or not, it’s in. In today’s day and age people want to see innovative and experimental artwork. Some like brand new and modern, some like traditional with a twist.

Recently, I went to the Guggenheim Museum and the Museum of Modern Art otherwise known as MOMA. Both buildings are modern and clean cut, but they are extremely different. You know what they say, “First impressions are everything,” so before I even entered the buildings my impressions of both went different directions. I personally like clean cut and modern design but at the same time I also love traditional. The mix of the two is neo-classical design, which is basically traditional with a modern twist. I guess in this case you can call me a centrist.

The Guggenheim is an amazing sight to look at. It almost looks like the top half of an ice cream cone but it has a crevice circling downward causing a very interesting desing aspect and annexes that stick out that give room for the many exhibits that the Guggenheim has to offer. Not to be harsh but all I could say about MOMA was that it was a box. It’s modernity is so modern that there is no creativity and innovative design.

The Guggenheim featured an exhibit called Frank Lloyd Wright: From Within Outward, in honor of the fiftieth anniversary of the museum that he built. It was a very amazing and innovative exhibit even though the works were from around fifty years ago. The exhibit focused mainly on architecture, which is what he was, an architect. There were his original sketches, models built that resembled his designs that never came to fruition, and videos made to show his unbuilt designs. The rest of the museum had works by various artists. I appreciated it because I was able to see the work they put in and be inspired by the work that came out. There was modern, traditional, and everything in between. Even the way to get around is cool, by way of a circular walkway that slowly makes its way up the cylinder like shape of the Guggenheim, and the ceiling is a beautiful piece of glass with metal inlay all around, like the museum itself is a work of art.

MOMA was all modern and though I enjoyed myself, it felt very uninspired. Many of the works were furniture that I loved and found very innovative, while still being functional and useful. The exhibit on the top floor was by Ron Arad called No Boundaries, an Israeli architect and designer. His works were also pieces of artistic, functional furniture, and also other forms of art. It was amazing to see what people can create that resembles ordinary things but offers much more. Then there was the work by Song Dong. I liked his work’s message to us all about consumption and how we are all wasteful, and felt the inspiration was there and it was truely touching, but the message was not translated in my perspective, an artistic manner. Unfortunately, I did not get to see the Sculpture Garden because they temporarily closed it and I had to leave so no sculptures and gelatto for me.

All in all I loved both museums and they both have a lot to offer but for me, many of the works in MOMA almost seem like a joke, while the works in the Guggenheim showed work put in and in turn work was brought out.

Now, it’s your turn. Why not check them out for yourself and let us know what you think?

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On a breezy Tuesday afternoon, many Manhattanites were sitting on the newly opened Highline and enjoying the gardens overlooking Chelsea. It was underneath this public park that fifteen teenagers decided to take over a plot of land and plant a party.

“Why not bring a culture to the Highline and try to make it more than just a walkway with a garden,” said Spencer Brown, 16, welcoming people on the street with what he called a “mobile” lemonade stand.

The teenagers are all part of Digital Day Camp (DDC), a program they are paid to participate in at Eyebeam Art and Technology Center’s Summer School. The twelve-day program introduces artistic high school kids around New York City to careers in art and technology, with an emphasis on activism in an urban environment.

The party, creatively titled “Pop Up Party,” for the colorful balloon-decorated set and the free “PUP” lemonade stands, represents the teens’ final project (for more, check out their site). Everything was brainstormed and created by the students, with the support of artists Adriana Young and Christina Kral, Education Coordinator Stephanie Pereira and Teaching Assistant Malwina Andrucczuk.

The idea was to “create a sense of curiosity for people who usually do not go to the High Line through the interaction with art,” said Siena Larris, 17, from Lab School For Collaborative Studies.

And cause a sense of curiosity they did. The party from far away looked like buckets of a painter’s palate were spilled onto the concrete, topped off with a levitating sign reading “Pop Up Party.”

Delving deeper in exposes a hubbub of activity. Visitors could stop and listen to Jade Highleyman, a member of DDC, performing mellow favorites like “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz. The more sporty inclined could join an intense game of four square with players of all ages. Or, if the wonderfully bright colors of party weren’t visually pleasing enough, a pair could enjoy a make-shift movie theater for two, showing a selection of short videos made by the DDC students over the course of the program.

In line with the environmental motif, participants of the party could walk away with a free plant. Evonny Escoto, 17, Bronx High School of Business, headed the planting section where she offered “sunflower, mustard, cherry, tomato, Yeats, poppy, dill, lettuce, and broccoli” seeds to be planted in a personalized pot and taken home.

Refreshments were available in the form of free lemonade distributed in exchange for a “story, secret, or interesting fact.” At the start of the party, Brown, from the mobile lemonade-stand, headed a pulley system that brought the drink up to the Highline, thus connecting it to the street.

That kind of connection between the Highline and the general public is what the Digital Day Campers hoped to achieve.

“A popular belief is that it was built to endorse Chelsea for the more rich in taste,” said Caroline Spivack, 15, Institute For Collaborative Education.

By creating a carnival so visually alluring, a rare splash of color on an otherwise dull street, and by being so interactive with its visitors, the “Pop Up Party” captured the interest of many New Yorkers who would have otherwise walked right past the Highline.

“We wanna say ‘Hey your totally entitled to this public space,’” said Larris.

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Lucy Thurber‘s play Monstrosity, featuring “singing teenage fascists, magic, war, and love”, is one of the most ambitious theater productions I have ever experienced. With a cast of over forty people, three acts, and cold tangy lemonade during intermissions, Monstrosity was basically two hours of intensity and fun.

Did I mention I was in it?

With no experience in theater, singing, or acting, I went to the Connelly Theater not knowing what to expect when High 5 put out a call for volunteers to be a part of the play — to join the “teen army.” I went and joined. I’m happy I took the risk and ended up having one of the coolest summer experiences I could ask for. Instead of just seeing and reviewing a play, I was in one!

It was interesting to be on the other side of the curtain. I saw how producing a play was a never-ending process involving run-throughs and editing that takes weeks of hard work, persistence, and cooperation. Getting together with the Monstrosity teen army to practice a couple of times a week was a fantastic experience. I met people who had a lot of experience with theater and I also met some people who were just like me. Together, we cheered for our leader Michael, listened to his speech intently, and sang our anthem with pride. We stood on the balcony and surrounded the audience, producing what I imagine to be an intimidating surround-sound effect; it showed just how crazy and powerful youth can be.

The best part of being in the army was that I got to see my favorite scene, which happened to be the scene after mine, after every performance. Two clowns on a bicycle circled the stage and told the audience about the story to come. It was haunting and oddly catchy writing and images, like “a brother and a sister with identical eyes.” The eerie lighting and music made this scene, along with the perfect harmony of the voices. It also contained my favorite line of the show:, when the clowns warn ominously, “it’s coming dear audience, and we’ve chosen you.”

It was such a treat to be chosen and spend my summer off with Monstrosity.

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As you walk up the steel stairs, looking up at the black metal structures beside you, you are unprepared for the blow of beauty waiting to attack. As you reach the top, you peer around, soaking in all of the cool greens and warm yellows and reds. You sit on the wooden bench and look around at all of the natural beauty.

As the wind rushes by, the tall grass whispers in your ears. The tree leaves tremble and sway. Greens cover the tracks with sprinkles of pink, purple, brown, red and orange. Flowers I’ve never heard of tuck themselves inside common flower groups. Young children play along the edges of the grass as young poets sit and write down their magical words. Bits of cotton and tiny groves of berries pop up here and there.

The High Line Park is a miniature world in the Chelsea district of Manhattan. It is an escape from pollution and cars, a travel back in time when it was more of a fertile and natural feel. You can sit down on the wooden benches on the tracks that can serve as lounge chairs that you could see at a beach. The original lights and structure still stands and if you look hard enough, you can find the STOP/GO light!

Near the middle, there is a miniature theater with a view of the street. It is fully wheelchair accessible and is large enough to hold many people. Right outside the “theater” is a mini-forest. There are trees and benches you can sit on and my mom commented, “It would be a beautiful place for a date.”

The High Line is a wonderful place for anyone and many people (including movie stars) have come to see it. Everyone should see it and appreciate the nature. Anybody should come and express their feelings and I am sure that artists, poets, writers and photographers have come to practice and enjoy.

After I travelled the entire High Line, I went to ask a staff member some questions. She was kind and eager to answer my questions.

Meagan Rose Rodriguez: Can the general public contribute to the High Line?
High Line: Yes. There is a volunteer program and people can donate money.
MRR: Can people get a High Line T-Shirt?
HL: No, not yet, but it may happen in the future.
MRR: Will the High Line continue to expand?
HL: Yes, there are two more sections in progress, the first section — from 20th to 30th St. — is in progress and there will be some miniature rivers installed into the High Line.

You see? Even the staff are wonderful!

Before departing my younger sister reminded me of the author Peter Brown which we’ve both met and his latest book called The Curious Garden, which was inspired by the High Line. Now I can see why.

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I had wanted to see the Neo-Futurists for some time, but was always too busy/lazy and never got around to asking for tickets. This particular week, though, it just seemed to make sense for no particular reason whatsoever. The Neos would appreciate this reasoning, I think. Also, another show popped up this time on the freelancers’ weekly email from Eric (monsieur Editor-in-Chief at High 5) — an improv night at the National Comedy Theatre — which piqued my interest. I had never heard of the place, but I like comedy about as much as the next guy, so I figured it couldn’t be all that bad. Impulsively, of course, I got tickets to both. It was an odd pairing, to be sure.

I was then asked by monsieur Editor-in-Chief to do a “comedy weekend write-up” of the two shows. Of course, I replied; of course! Great. I didn’t even realize the Neos were doing a comedy show! (They aren’t.) The original title of this article, “Comedy Weekend Write-Up” (summertime laziness on my part) was rather deceptive, however. There are funnier things to do with one’s time than watch a performance from the Neo-Futurists or the National Comedy Theatre. There are surely funnier shows out there to see.

This doesn’t make a whole lot of difference for the Neos, whose experimental piece, Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind, is not so much a comedy show as it is simply an event. But what an event it is! Cast members usher you to your seat, handing you your very own made-up-name name tag (I was “Voodoo Doll”) and a program, and eagerly welcoming you to the show. They might come back and ask you how you’re doing a bit later on. If the show is sold out, the cast orders pizza for everyone. They have nothing to hide as they attempt their nightly feat of performing 30 (very short) plays in 60 minutes. There are no blackouts in-between plays, mainly because the cast doesn’t know which play is coming next until the audience, whose programs include the titles of all 30 plays, decides on the spot. The process is messy, sloppy, and often quite fun. (Probably even more fun with a slice of pizza.)

The plays themselves are sometimes funny, sometimes charming, and more often than not, quite trippy. For the most part, they’re tolerable. A few moments even walk the line of poignancy. The pieces that work the best, such as “[A Search for] the Funniest Spot on Stage” and “Hokey Pokey in Hell” — which are exactly what they sound like — are focused single gags (“Hokey Pokey in Hell” is funny as hell). As for the rest, try to come in with an open mind; these people will perform most anything. They run through a lot of material, as the show is constantly changing: plays are added and cut weekly. I say try it! High 5 has cheap tickets and chances are you’ve never seen anything quite like this before. A word of warning, however: don’t sit in the first few rows unless you are willing to get wet — and I don’t just mean with water.

That was Friday night.

But now, from the postmodern to the..well, to the National Comedy Theatre, which, regrettably, is not as humorous as its name would suggest. The conceit of the improv show here is that it is A.) family-oriented and B.) competitive. I think I could have enjoyed the show more, despite the former, if the latter hadn’t annoyed me so much. By “competitive,” I mean that the show is run like a sports game: performers are on one of two teams, signified by a softball-type uniform, the host is a man in an umpire’s uniform (if you’re at all familiar with Who’s Line Is It, Anyway?, this guy is the equivalent of Drew Carey), and the teams play improv games for points. The performers exude a campiness bereft of the humor that so often accompanies the form. Their canned shtick simply isn’t charming (or at least I wasn’t terribly amused). It follows that the evening’s funniest moments came from the audience suggestions.

Not that the show was completely terrible; it wasn’t. The pairing was odd, though — Neo-Futurist trippy experimentalism and PG-rated improv — and it left a rather sour aftertaste, I must admit. I’d sooner recommend just seeing Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind — you get a name tag and possibly even pizza. And in the end, what could be better?

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