分类： 赛事资讯

Hipsters, college kids and seasoned New Yorkers huddle nightly outside of Manhattan’s IFC Center, an independent cinema, located on Avenue of the Americas near West 3rd Street. A retro-style black and red marquee resides above the single box office. “Now Showing” posters line the IFC Center’s exterior and exhibit the eclectic assortment of international, experimental, documentary and classic films shown at the iconic Greenwich Village theater.

Once a Dutch Reform Church in 1831, later a second-run film house known as the Waverly Theater in 1937, the IFC Center was birthed in 2005 with a screening of “Me and You and Everyone We Know.” Though modernized and commercialized, the community feel of the multiplex thrives. Cinephiles from all walks of life continue to come together and admire the art of the moving image.

On a cold November evening, a diverse crowd waited in line at the box office. I stood in the queue, the illuminated Empire State Building glistening from a distance in my peripherals, amused by a handwritten sign in the IFC’s window proclaiming “[their] shirts go to 11!” (alluding to Reiner’s “This Is Spinal Tap”). Craving a rockumentary, I purchased a ticket to “Gimme Danger.”

The aroma of cigarettes from the street dominated until I opened the theater’s door — a total immersion into buttery, fresh, hot popcorn. After handing an usher my ticket for entry, my body involuntarily waltzed over to the snack stand.

Despite the IFC’s expansive menu, adorned with organic popcorn, hot teas, Jacque Torres chocolate treats, Melt ice cream sandwiches, and Popsicles from a local favorite, Popbar, I opted for traditional Sour Patch Kids.

The concession vendor was quaint, but kitschy and trendy, nonetheless. A vintage popcorn maker sat behind the clerk, featuring golden kernels exploding on-site.

Theater 3, where “Gimme Danger” screened, was smaller than average, but allowed for a more intimate experience. The leather seats that stippled the theater were plush, buoyant, wide and cloudlike.

The lights dimmed and an IFC-sponsored message enveloped the screen: “No texting, no smoking, no talking,” it started; “No clowns,” it continued with other quirky choices; “No bad movies,” it ended.

Trailers followed. No two genres were alike.

Finally, Iggy and The Stooges appeared on screen, and I knew that “Gimme Danger” had begun.

The film, being a cinematographically inspiring Jarmusch documentary, I would definitely recommend. I would also encourage others to take a journey to the IFC, pick a movie from the carefully curated collection, and appreciate it or hate it or have some reaction to it.

Accessible by trains to West 4th or Christopher Street, heterogeneity is the norm; the IFC Center is in the soul of Greenwich Village, one of Manhattan’s last cultural hubs. It reels in people of all backgrounds and hones in on inclusivity with all-gender bathrooms.

The New York skyline has undergone many changes in the 400 years since being settled by Dutch colonists. The dynamic skyline has represented the evolution of this world city, the changing architecture serving as the city’s vertical strata that document the different historical periods the city has lived through. However, a recent trend of residential skyscrapers has begun to transform the skyline in a completely different way, chief among them being the one at 432 Park Avenue.

Instead of the graceful Art Deco forms of the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, or the gleaming modernism of One World Trade Center, we are presented with a blocky cage, a contemporary take on Mies van der Rohe and 1950s functionalist/international style architecture. The structure itself is composed of glass and steel, and is the tallest residential skyscraper in New York City, with the tallest roof height of any building in the City. 432 Park Avenue has a 19:1 height-to-width ratio, making it one of the most slender skyscrapers in Manhattan. The unconventional width of the building makes it appear as an intruder, invading photos of the beloved New York skyline.

Towering over established landmarks, it impudently demands attention, claiming its height as a verification of superiority. However, it doesn’t take much digging to reveal that the skyscraper’s design was inspired by nothing other than a trash can. Yep, that’s right. New York City has its very own trash can in its skyline. The can in question was designed by Josef Hoffman, and sports the same blocky, square design of the tower — without all the glass. Instead of using rectangular windows, or a tower cloaked in glass, the architect decided to go with square windows that look out of place on the slim tower, and make it appear as if it were composed of gray Lego bricks. The choice of square windows makes the building appear squat, giving passer-by a confusing image of an anorexic giant that seems uncomfortably compressed.

It seems that the Architect was afraid that narrower, vertical, rectangular windows would draw the eye upward and make the tower seem too tall to fit in with the surrounding landscape, but he made the tower so tall that any window configuration would have this effect. It might have been better to cloak the entire building in reflective glass. That way, it would mirror the sky above and the buildings around it, and would camouflage its abnormal dimensions with its surroundings. As this building is the first completed one in a slew of supertall residential towers under construction, it draws alarm to the future of the iconic New York skyline.

South Korean artist Crush’s latest album “Wonderlust” comes across as a pleasant surprise to fans of the 24-year-old R&B wunderkind. The minimalism of “Wonderlust” contrasts directly with the rich instrumentation showcased in his last EP “Interlude” and allows Crush to come into his own as a strong writer and vocalist. The album is also a breath of fresh air in a somewhat shallow K-pop music industry that mainly prioritizes catchiness. The ubiquity of consumer-oriented music in this market allows artistic visionaries like Crush to shine brighter in every project, and “Wonderlust” is no exception.

“Wonderlust” captures a spare, yet nuanced sound that effortlessly evokes the wistfulness of autumn. “Shall we leave this stuffy city,” Crush suggests in the highly economical intro track “Wanderlust.” Without much else said, he entices the listener to take him up on his offer. Fortunately, Crush stands by his word — he seamlessly interweaves a highly minimalistic sound with deep yet simple emotions from times past, leaving all the stuffiness and complexities of the present in the dust.

The overall texture is thin to the point where one might claim that his minimalism skirts lazy production under the guise of art. However, Crush shatters all such impressions upon close inspection, as all five tracks on the album are laced with sheer sensitivity. “2411” is the love child of lyrical precision and purposeful instrumentation, arousing vivid images of Crush’s past as a no-name singer who resolved to “never give up.../ in bus 2411, [his] only shelter.” The third track “Nostalgia,” characterized by a soothing yet painfully restrained vocal line, evokes a pang of reminiscence without explicitly referencing the past. The guitar emotively rolls jazzy chords to produce a yearning vocal quality, reaching the heights of wistfulness every time it follows the melody line. The title song “Fall” follows with straightforward lyrics and seasonal metaphors (“My reality is a cruel fall without you / I still can’t forget”) in a longing message dedicated to a past love. “How’s by you?” he then gently asks, establishing a bond of sympathy with listeners who have most likely asked the same question at one point or another in their lives. The finale “Like My Father” is the apotheosis of both emotional sensitivity and minimalism, as Crush engages in personal dialogue with his father and yearns to “remain in [his] younger days” in a touching duet between falsetto and piano.

The acoustic-ballad-themed “Wonderlust” greatly deviates from the “trendy” alternative R&B sound that dominates Crush’s past albums. There’s nothing fancy to it — the overarching narrative, the production, the vocal techniques, everything. Then again, aren’t our emotions, however strong, simple as well? Crush realizes this very truth in “Wonderlust,” masterfully relating to his audience through overwhelming simplicity and sensitivity — and to do just that, sometimes 13 minutes and 37 seconds is all it takes.

In a magical world of shapeshifting snakes and pilfering platypi, could humanity pose the greatest threat? For indisputable philanthropist and quintessential Hufflepuff, Newt Scamander, the theory seems all too plausible. “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” transports devoted fans and muggles alike into a new realm of witchcraft and wizardry. A story of preserving wildlife, challenging governmental influence, and embracing individuality, the fantastic film seems to have an unexpectedly realistic edge.

Set in 1920s New York City, “Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them” creates a magic of its own. Bustling streets, towering skyscrapers, and mustard-topped hot dogs immerse viewers into the uncharted universe of early 20th century America. J.K. Rowling, the reason for Harry Potter’s existence and sole screenwriter for the film, adds her own twist — the unlikely protagonist himself, Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne). Scamander, joined by comical no-maj, or non-magical person, Kowalski (Dan Fogler), and ambitious witch, Tina (Katherine Waterston), travels throughout the city, from Macy’s Department Store to goblin-owned speakeasies. But there’s a catch: Scamander, avid lover of all fantastic beasts, has brought some creatures along in his suitcase. They, too, have decided to explore the city — on their own.

Scamander’s subsequent journey is not only one of recovering creatures; it is one of discovering himself. Like a selfless and loyal Hufflepuff, Scamander fights to defend his beasts from “millions of the most vicious creatures on the planet — humans.” He defies orders from an oppressive government — Rowling’s version of Potter’s Ministry of Magic, the Magical Congress of the United States of America — to protest the state of creature rights. He mentors a young wizard, freeing him from suppression and the puritanical grasp of an anti-wizardry organization, the Second Salem Preservation Society. He exposes the man whose bleached blonde mohawk and infamous name appear on every magical newspaper throughout the wizarding world.

The beauty of the film is not found in Rowling’s shy protagonist or his boy-next-door British charm. Nor is it found in the brilliant cinematography behind window-shopping monkeys and Arizona-bound dragons. It is found in Scamander’s attempts to save his creatures and friends from the world’s most terrible beasts — humans. With the help of an otherworldly cast and captivating story line, “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” transforms a fantastic tale into a modern social statement. No magic needed.

Theodore Sakellaridis, age 15: “Cuphead: A New Take on the Past”

Olivia Roark, age 15: “‘Mean Girls’ Finds a New Medium”

Elizabeth Puthumana, age 16: “The Heart of a Lion”

Taylor Pitzl, age 16: “Mother! Doesn’t Know Best”

Elizabeth “Betsy” Kim, age 18: “Death and Deep Questions in ‘Dunkirk’”

Cameron Kaercher, age 17: “Baby Driver — ‘He’s a Looney. Just like His Tunes.’”

Kaitlin Jones, age 16: “You’re Getting Warmer: A Review of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’s Ninth Studio Album”

Betsy Jenifer, age 18: “Ten Days in a Mad-House by Nellie Bly: A Chilling Peek Into Madness”

Reed Holland, age 14: “‘Your Fathers, Where Are they? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?’ Raises More Questions Than it Answers”

James Heffner, age 18: “Dancer in the Dark: The Musical Against Musicals”

Konrad Fondrie, age 18: “In Wonderland, an Impossible Permanence”

Jackson Edwards, age 17: “A One-Woman Show: Sarah Huckabee Sanders Shines in the White House Press Briefing”

Archie Barnes, age 14: “Wu-Tang Clan: The Saga Continues”

Laura Angulo, age 16: “Origin by Dan Brown — The Existential Questions of Humankind”

Guy Anello, age 16: “The Science of Everything”

荣誉奖

Joanne Yang, age 14: “Fetish Review of ’Fetish’ by Selena Gomez”

James Wilt, age 16: “The T-Rex Cafe, Somewhere You Can Really Sink Your Teeth Into.”

Samantha Vatalaro, age 17: “‘Humanz’ After All: Gorillaz’s New Album and Dancing Through the Darkness”

Nandini Talwar, age 17: “Rain: A Thought; A Squall”

Simon Sweeney, age 16: “Our Kingdom for a Horse: Peter Shaffer’s Equus in Pittsburgh”

Sophie, age 16: “What Is a Feminist Anyway?”

Cate Schultz, age 15: “Chance the Rapper: An Artist Who Redefined His Artist”

Elena Seaholm, age 16: “‘Baby Driver’: A Thrill Ride From Start to Finish”

Kendall Rogers, age 16: “The Most Empowering Game of Truth or Dare”

Lily Meyers, age 14: “Love and Loss”

Claire Lewing, age 16: “The Making of Modern Art”

Ridhi Shashi Kumar, age 17: “‘Before the Flood’: Icebergs Are No Longer Leonardo DiCaprio’s Foes, but His Friends”

Mary Hudak, age 15: “The Masterpieces of Myrna Minnis”

Nicole Guittari, age 17: “Once Was Enough”

Zac Gill, age 15: “Brockhampton: Not Your Average Rappers”

Maeve Donovan, age 14: “Feeling Invisible in ‘Because I Am Furniture’”

Arianna Coan-Prichard, age 16: “The Anomaly”

Emily Bukaty, age 15: “Ellen’s Stardust Diner: An Aspiring Broadway Singer’s Dream Come True”

Jonathan Badonsky, age 16: “‘Loveless’: the Anti-Romantic Comedy”

Hannah Babcock, age 16: “Hauntingly Beautiful”

As minority groups feel increasingly insecure, there’s been a trend for artists to churn out superficial albums that receive praise for their sheer mention of race, gender or sexuality. Real representation of insecurity ought to be messy, just as is the subject itself. Dev Hynes’s third album, under the alias Blood Orange, perfectly encapsulates this dilemma through his politically-charged lyrics and beats reminiscent of the ‘80’s. Titled “Freetown Sound,” Hynes pours his thoughts into the project, making for a raw and hypnotic depiction of identity.

Fans of Hynes will see similarities to previous projects in his powerfully-subdued lyrics, but “Freetown Sound” creates a listening experience far different from the alt-pop boppy anthems of prior albums like “Coastal Grooves.” In Freetown, tracks are broken up through conceptual interludes, like the messy and atmospheric album opener “By Ourselves”. The track features no clear hook and a layer of vocals that creates a state of confusion, setting the perfect tone for the tracks to come. Before ending, the last sentiment of a sample of black slam-poet Ashlee Haze’s “For Colored Girls (The Missy Elliott Poem)” echoes “there are a million black girls waiting to see someone who looks like them” as the statement trails off in free-jazz, clearly leaving the listener who’d come for Hynes’ classic ‘80’s dance beats somewhat confused. However, this album is not just for the abstract-minded listener; one can certainly look to the track “Best to You” for the same blast-with-the-windows-down sensation that might have drawn them to Blood Orange in the first place. And even so, the politicization of the tracks is not so far-fetched to no longer be enjoyable; the track “Desirée,” despite being adorned with samples from queer-minority cult documentary “Paris is Burning,” still manages to flow beautifully in a more conventional sense.

Not only is the album compositionally vital, it really does sound good; it arguably features Blood Orange’s best vocals yet, with his range on full display in “EVP.” In this and other tracks, the heart-thumping rhythm of the gated reverb creates an air of ‘80’s nostalgia. And yet these appealing rhythms have a purpose, as their inspiration draws on a decade filled with immense identification struggle in the midst of political and social turmoil, honing in on Hynes’s own story. Of the problems he addresses — those based on his experiences as a queer black male — none are given clear-cut solutions. There is no one specific question posed by Hynes on these 17 tracks; to most genuinely represent these issues, Hynes proves that there can’t be, given all of their complexity, confusion and frustration.