Hiatus

So I'll be back to blogging in about a week, but until then I'm going to fall off the face of the world a little bit. The fact that I am writing this at 1:45 am when I have to get up for class in 5 1/2 hours should tell you the sort of week I'm having--48 papers graded in time to get 48 finals tomorrow, grades to figure out and submit, 20 pages of a HIDEOUS theory paper written, 20 pages left to write for that and other papers, books to read, facts to check, Christmas gifts to procur, two PhD personal statements crafted with four to go, a writing sample to edit, recommenders to remind, and a Sunday afternoon flight to catch. My last paper is due on the 13th, but I'm going home on the 11th because 1. I really, really want to go home, having not been there since August, and 2. one of my friends volunteered to print my final.

I'm in a much better frame of mind after ordering pizza for dinner, knocking out six pages of writing tonight, doing a solid months worth of laundry (hey, I'll have clean underwear tomorrow! Excellent!) listening to a ridiculous amount of Michael Buble's Christmas songs, and making lists.

This is my favorite time of year, and I'm sad I haven't been able to get into much of a Christmas-y mood, but hopefully that will happen soon. No tree here, no time to put up my lights, and it's been sleeting. One thing that is reassuring is that all of my friends are crazying out, since all of us are grading or teaching or working at the museum, and my friends who aren't at school are super busy with work, so I feel less bad about being a terrible communicator for a week. We started saying "you are on crazy pills" which then turned into "you are on cra pills" which then turned into "CRA PILLS." Art historian catchphrases?

Send me good, scholarly, multi-tasking vibes. I need them. And I'll send some to you! See you all in the middle of the month.

Wocka Wocka Wocka

I will never stop loving the Muppets.

In point of fact, how could someone NOT love the Muppets? The jokes are witty, the songs are catchy, the stories make you a better, kinder person. The Muppets taught me that it's okay to be different, that laughter always helps, and that if you work together and stick with your friends, things will turn out just fine. I'm approaching finals week, have forty papers to grade for Monday and about 30 pages to write this weekend, I'm going Christmas shopping and have a lunch date tomorrow and am all stress-stress-stress all the time, but for a few hours tonight The Muppets just made me happy, for the first time in a few days.

The new movie is great. It really is. I consider myself a little bit of a Muppets connoisseur (read: huge nerd) and it was very enjoyable. It's actually a bit sad, because it's about the Muppets being split up and missing one another, which is something I've been feeling a lot recently about my friends from college, but they get together for one last show to save their theater. I won't tell you what happens (though you can probably guess..)! The celebrity cameos were hilarious as always (I was hoping for Steve Martin, but no luck), the songs were actually pretty good, and the jokes were plentiful. The new Muppet, Walter, is ADORABLE. His talent is whistling! I actually think this movie was aimed at original Muppets fans, because it was a lot about how people have forgotten the Muppets because, as the Bad Guy says, people want "a hard, cynical act for a hard, cynical world." Except we don't, of course. I went with five of my friends and it was such fun--we all ended up crying, too. And smuggled in a bunch of candy. Most people in the theater were probably my age, or older. And then we sang Mahna Mahna in the parking lot.

One of the many things I love about the Muppets is that they have such a wonderful combination of silliness, wittiness, and a bit of nostalgia. While I'll always love "Good grief, the Comedian's a Bear!" some of the songs mean more to me now that I'm older, like "I Hope That Somethin' Better Comes Along" from The Muppet Movie with lines like "It's not often you see a guy that green have the blues that bad," or "You can't live with 'em, you can't live without 'em. / There's something irresistible-ish about 'em. / We grin and bear it 'cause the nights are long. / I hope that something better comes along." The "Rainbow Connection" makes me tear up, and Statler and Waldorf always make me laugh.

The Muppets have been there for me throughout the years. When I get sad about missing home and have too much to write I listen to the songs and skits. The songs are awesome, in the movies and especially the shows, "Lydia the Tattooed Lady" or Beverly Sills and "Pigoletto" (I mean, Pigoletto! that's awesome) or something low-key and sweet like Rowlf singing "Cottleston Pie". The Great Muppet Caper is my favorite of their movies, but I like them all. When I moved to Brooklyn, one of my friends got me The Muppets Take Manhattan as a housewarming present. The Muppet Christmas Carol is my favorite Christmas movie. My ex-roommate sent me Muppets Yahtzee over the summer, and my old subaru was named Kermit.

Jim Henson died when he was 53, which is sad and too young for anyone to die, but as someone who spread such a message of hope and inclusion it somehow seems even more sad. But I'm so glad that his legacy is living on in the people who work on The Muppets now. At his funeral, Harry Belafonte sang "Turn the World Around," just as he did on the Muppet Show. I didn't really know this song before I listened to it awhile ago, but it really is perfect, and something that makes so much sense for Jim Henson.

I'm going to close now with a few of my favorite quotations from the Muppets, but before I do, let me just say: thank you, Muppets, for being such a happy part of my happy childhood, and still being around now that I'm a happy 24 year old.

Ah, a bear in his natural habitat. A Studebaker!

Fozzie: [going over check list] Wax lips?
Zoot: [checking his pockets] Man, I just had them!
Dr. Teeth: Did ya leave 'em in your other pants?
Zoot: I don't have no other pants!

Kermit (Bob Crachitt): Uh, if you please Mr. Scrooge, half an hour off hardly seems customary for Christmas Day.
Rats: No, no.
Scrooge: How much time off *is* customary?
Kermit: Why, uh... The whole day.
Rats: Yeah, yeah!
Scrooge: The *entire* day?
Rats: No, no. That's the frog's idea...

Kermit: Quiet! (everyone gets quiet except Janice)
Janice: Look, Mother. It's my life. OK. So if I want to live on a beach and walk around naked... Oh.

Rizzo the Rat: [falls down a chimney] Hey! I'm stuck! Get me out of here!
Gonzo: I knew you weren't suited for literature.

Life's like a movie, write your own ending, keep believing, keep pretending; we've done just what we've set out to do, thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you!

Giving Thanks

This week was the second time I wasn't with my family for Thanksgiving, the first time being when I was in England, so there WAS no Thanksgiving, and it's not like I could have gone home, anyway. I could have gone home this time, and I didn't. It would have been expensive, really expensive, and expensive is not in my budget, and I had so much work, and I'll be home in three weeks anyway...so staying here was justified, but I still felt awful about it. I love Thanksgiving (apart from the, you know, "let's kill all the Native Americans and take their land" problem). It's probably tied with Christmas as my favorite holiday, because it's about family and friends and food, and giving thanks. And here's what I'm thankful for! Prepare yourself for some sappiness.

I'm thankful for my family. Even when I'm not close by, I know that they are always just a phone call or video screen away, and that is an immensely comforting thing. I was able to video-chat with my aunt and some of my cousins during the Thanksgiving parade, and then my mom, dad, sister, and grandmother after dinner, and that made the day infinitely better. This is our first Thanksgiving without my grandmother, and this is going to be a hard holiday season for me. But knowing that they will always make me laugh when I need it and let me cry when I need it is something that keeps me sane.

I'm thankful for my friends. I have awesome friends. I have been a mess this fall at replying to mail and calls (usually I'm pretty good, but not recently) and they have continued to send me cards, leave me funny voicemails, and put up with my whining. I'm really lucky in that I have close friends from high school and college and now grad school. I miss my college friends so much (I miss my high school friends too, of course, but I usually get to see them around the holidays) but it just makes our meetings that much better when they do happen. We're pretty good about staying in contact, and I hope that never changes.

I'm thankful that I get paid to go to school. I mean, really, how good is this gig? I teach something that I love, take classes that I like, and am able to live off of this without having to work more on the side. Not everyone gets to do this, and I'm very fortunate. Yes, sometimes it's pretty stressful, especially since I'm applying to Phd programs right now and not knowing what is coming up for my future is scary as hell, but--I'm glad I'm doing it.

I'm thankful for good food. This year, instead of super-traditional Thanksgiving fare, a friend and I just cooked parts of it that we liked. So we had garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, garlic bread, carrots and dip, black raspberries, guacamole and chips, mimosas, chardonay, and salted caramel cheesecake. I'm rather pleased about this cheesecake, as it was my first time making one. I decided to do it from scratch, from making the dulce de leche by boiling a can of condensed milk, to cooking caramel for the top. Which was really cool! I felt like a wizard, because when you add the cream to the hot sugar it freaks out, but you just whisk and whisk and it turns out ok. Rather cool.

I'm thankful for pets, especially the cats that I housesat for this week. I definitely would like to get a dog or a cat when I finally settle in a place for longer than a few years. One of the cats doesn't like people who she doesn't know, but by the end of the week she had crept out and let me pet her. And the other cat did not budge from my lap if I was sitting. Or typing, as evidenced by this photo, taken with my computer camera:
I'm thankful for Jane Austen. Self-explanatory, really.

I'm thankful to live in this country, much though I find it frustrating a lot of the time. As an American, I do have personal freedom (especially as a woman) that I would not have other places, and the means to protest if I so choose.

I'm thankful for feminist art historians. Without these people (especially one in particular) I would not have gone to grad school, and probably wouldn't have majored in art history in the first place. Thanks for changing my adopted corner of academia for the better.

I'm thankful for yarn, the way knitting needles click, and the satisfaction of making something out of, well, strings. I'm excited to spend my winter break knitting and watching Dr. Who.

I'm thankful that the Muppets are back, and REALLY jazzed about seeing the movie soon. We watched The Muppet Christmas Carol (aka the best Christmas Carol ever made, if not the best Christmas movie ever) on Thanksgiving, and it never ceases to make me happy.

And speaking of Christmas--I am thankful for Christmas things, especially Bloomington's Canopy of Lights! Some friends and I went to the big lighting kick-off the Friday after Thanksgiving and it was spectacular. So many people were gathered around the square, and the emcee and this fairly creepy clown led the singing of carols and then Santa arrived, and we counted down from 10, and then they turned on the lights! And then we all sang, "We Wish you a Merry Christmas" and dispersed. My friends and I went around the shops around the courthouse, got some soup (pumpkin with roasted pumpkin seeds on it, yum. There is a new soup restaurant on the square, perfect for lunchtime take out, and only $4 or so for a bowl--I think they have 8 different soups a day), and then went and got a drink, and went home!Post-lighting! The lights go from the courthouse to the buildings around the square, so it really *does* look like a canopy of lights!

A bit blurry, but a view of the courthouse and the Hospice Tree of Life.

Favorite bars, Irish Lion and Crazy Horse, all kitted out for Christmas! (fun fact, these two buildings used to be a brothel in the late 1800s)Friends. Lights. Happy belated Thanksgiving, everyone!

Why I Like Opera

I went to La Boheme on Friday night with my usual opera going friend and another friend who hadn't been to an opera before. La Boheme is the most played opera in the US, but I've never seen it live. I like Puccini as much as the next person, and have listened to La Boheme quite a bit, but I'd never realized that 1. parts of it are pretty funny, and 2. parts of it are gut-wrenchingly sad. It also made me quite nostalgic, as I listened to it a lot right before I went to Paris for a few days in the fall of 2007. My friend Jess and I stayed in the sketchiest hotel ever (no, really, she can corroborate this--there were a lot of hijinks that trip, in point of fact) but what mostly stuck with me about the hotel, other than the broken elevator and the winding staircases, was this view, from our tiny bathroom.
As I looked out the window, I remember thinking that this must have been what it was like to be in La Boheme, minus the consumption. I wanted to live in a garret, be a starving artist, and be able to look out at the city every night.

Well, the opera was awesome, as these opera performances tend to be--I'm so, so glad I go to a school with a world-renowned opera program. Almost better than the music, which was great, was the SETS. I've never seen such sets. The sets were such that one of my friends punched me in the arm at one point because we both were so pumped. The sets rotated as they were singing--the balcony of the Parisian garret turned and became the dingy interior of the poor artist and poet's apartment.
Most impressively, this rooftop apartment moved offstage, the lights dimmed, a rumbling could be heard, and a NEW set moved forward. Suddenly there was a cafe scene, complete with a bridge, and a marching band, at least 50 cast-members, and even vendor's carts. The audience burst into applause. Check out more of the sets here.
One of the reasons why I like operas is because they force you to suspend belief. Over the course of 2 1/2 hours, I had to believe that people could fall in love instantly, that hearts could be quickly broken and mended, that bohemians lived together by conning their landlord, and that sometimes things just end in sadness no matter how much we want them not to. When Mimi died, it was unnoticed by the other protagonists for a little while, but the audience knew--the girl behind me hissed, "NO!" And when Ridolfo notices that his friends can't meet his eyes (they've realized she's died) he exclaims in this extraordinary, anguished outburst. My Italian isn't good enough to translate it exactly, but even if you'd never heard Italian before it wouldn't matter, you just know that it sounds like loss, like pain, like anger. And then he stalked outside, and stood in what suddenly had become the chilly Parisian air, with snow falling, and just stood there as the curtain went down. I had chills, one of my friends was crying, and the entire theater was silent.

Other music doesn't have this affect on me, and I don't know what it is about opera that causes me to have a more emotional connection. And I know it's not like this for all people--I've heard the argument that it's too flashy, too substantial, too earthly to really be something transcendent or moving. And I suppose in some ways that is true. I think perhaps there is a corollary between those of us who like Baroque Art and those of us who also like opera--a longing for something so excessively beautiful that it sometimes hurts. You feel too much, if that makes sense. There are parts of Marriage of Figaro that are so stunningly perfect that they make me tear up, not because they're sad, but because they are so lovely that they make you feel something, deeply.

I don't know that much about opera, truth be told. I can tell bad singers from good ones, and I'm getting better at hearing differences in different versions (like I can now--sort of!--do with wine) and different singers approaches. I really can't name any favorite singers, other than Jussi Bjorling, but to me that's not really the important part. The important part is that for 2 1/2 hours, the whole audience was transported to Paris, to a garret full of starving artists and a cafe full of wine and song. To see a relationship come together and fall apart, to hear declarations of love and heartbreak. So much pathos, and so much beauty.

Here are two scenes from movies that evidence my feelings pretty perfectly, Philadelphia and the Shawshank Redemption. I remember once, my sister and I went to see Cosi Fan Tutte, and the old man next to us was so delighted by everything that was happening that he'd laugh for a good 10 seconds longer than everyone else, which was cracking ME up. There was a great set change there too, and he spontaneously started clapping, just like people did this past Friday. I glanced over at him, and his face was so happy. That's why I like opera.

Ogres

Some friends and I went to see Shrek: The Musical tonight, and before you judge me, let me just say that it was so fun. Yes, the songs were fairly forgettable, and if you've never seen the movie you'd probably not like it, but the message is really good: not judging people based on their appearance and knowing that being different is ok, and people will still love you. If you're in your mid-20s or younger, you probably grew up knowing about Shrek. It's never been one of my favorite movies, but it does have its moments. The audience was a mix of parents with young kids and college kids--we were next to a couple frat-y looking guys who had a great time.

And the special effects! The dragon was a 25 foot long PUPPET, there were strobe lights and awesome make-up and suits of armor and all sorts of fun things. There were quite a few "adult" jokes, and some sneaky broadway references--I caught ones to Gypsy, West Side Story and Wicked, and the BEST one: Donkey and Shrek are walking along and the background is moving behind them, and suddenly the Lion King music started and a giraffe and some birds popped out for a bit and then ran off. Awesome.

For 2 hours, I didn't think about all my reading, lesson planning, or non-written statements of purpose, and just enjoyed feeling like a kid and looking at really amazing set designs. I love art history, but without occasional bouts of music (musicals, symphonies, operas) I really do think I would lose my sanity.

As one of my friends summed it up during intermission: "today is a great day. You got a giant fake check [sidenote: I did. It's not that giant, but it is bigger than a notebook. I do not know what to do with this, it's laminated and has the museum as the background. The suggestions so far are: frame it, stick a bunch of magnets on the back to make a big magnet, or turn it into the world's largest coaster.] L brought Nerds for us to eat, and A is texting a boy. And we just saw a giant singing dragon." And that pretty much sums it up!

La Boheme tomorrow night! Maybe I will remain sane after all...

Survived!

Talks are over, and I did pretty well! I didn't get that many questions, and I can't tell if that is good or bad, but in any case, it's over! This is a cool competition, endowed by some long-ago fund at the museum. You apply to present research, and so four of us got it this year. The topics were on a Hellenic krater, a portrait of Mrs Chinnery by Elizabeth Vigee le Brun, one of John Marin's etchings of the Brooklyn Bridge, and Howard Chandler Christy's book illustrations (me!). I was in really good company--everyone else did a great job. Whoever wins gets $600, and everyone else gets a $125 gift certificate to the fine arts bookstore. And let me tell you, there are some CUTE earrings in that bookstore! There are four judges, and you are judged based on your scholarliness (a real word?), originality of research, and presentation. My friends brought both cookies AND cupcakes, so there were treats involved--I'm glad I'm with such collegial people!

I'm in the process of making butternut squash soup, the best around--the recipe is courtesy of one of my ex-professors (Dunbar! for those of you who know him) and it's got orange rind and curry and lots of amazingness in it. The last time I made it I exploded it out of my blender and burned myself, but I now have an immersion blender, so maybe fewer injuries this time around. I might even go crazy and make a bacon and grilled cheese sandwich. Then I'm going to read my current fun book (A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court) and The Grinch is on (the old, good one) then a Masterpiece Theater with the divine Emma Thompson and the even more divine Alan Rickman. Tomorrow it's back to business as usual, although oddly I do have dinner invites or shows planned for almost every night next week. A social life?! Me?! Sweet. Two phone interviews in there, too, so it'll be the usual busy time, too. But for now--whew. One thing over.

Jitters

I'm giving a presentation tomorrow on a few early 20th-century illustrations from our collection and how they present a nostalgic, idealized view of women (and the implications of this), so it's rather ironic that I just spent the last 20 minutes plucking my eyebrows. I'll probably wear mascara tomorrow, too. And heels. Idealization of women, alive and well.

The paper is written, the images are picked, I've thought a bit about some questions that may arise (that is the scariest part!), and I've got my outfit chosen--purple tights, of course, though I'm not sure on a scarf.

It's odd the rituals we have when something kind of big is coming up, and I've actually gotten tremendously better at dealing with talking in front of people--teaching and seminars are making that a lot less scary. Still nervous, but I'm not pacing. Yet. I'm going to reward myself for doing this with Ethiopian food next week and seeing Shrek the Musical with some friends. I'll cook a big breakfast tomorrow morning, listen to some show tunes, and try to distract myself as much as possible.

This isn't really an important post, but this paper and archival research are the main things that I've accomplished this week. So I should have more exciting things to report in the next few days, but for now: a view into the scarier aspects of academia! Send me good vibes tomorrow at about 1 pm, and I'm going to go back to watching Iron Jawed Angels. I get to talk about suffrage, Mary Wollstonecraft, and Mad Men in this paper--and really, what is better than that?