分类： 赛事资讯

获奖评论

Abigail Brunn, age 17: “‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’: Tackling Bigger Monsters”

Maya Charlton, age 16: “Listening to The (Not So) Modern Lovers Forty Years Later”

Andrew Chung, age 16: “The ‘Wonder’ of Minimalism”

Gabriel Gonzalez, age 16: “432 Park Avenue — A Splinter in the Sky”

Morgan Hickman, age 17: “Lolita: Beauty Versus Crime”

Avery Kim, age 17: “Gimme Danger, Gimme Great Films: Both at the IFC”

Ruiyi Li, age 18: “‘Catch-22’: A War on Our Conscience”

Libby Lee McDaniel, age 17: “No Country for Old Men, or Anybody for That Matter.”

Ben Miller, age 16: “Cooking Mestizo”

Madeline Polkinghorn, age 17: “Book Review: Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt”

亚军

Amelia Bertaska, age 17: “The Partly Cloudy Patriot”

BSArul, age 16: “Where History Ends Up: A Review of ‘At Home’”

Denise Camarillo, age 17: “A Taste of the Andes”

Ian Cameron, age 14: “Schindler’s List: Tension, Repulsion, Bitterness, and Pride”

Hannah Cho, age 14: “Frankenstein’s Message From 200 Years Ago”

Eve DeAmbra, age 17: “A Plant Grows in Brooklyn”

Matt Frattura, age 17: “A Film Review: ‘The Accountant’”

Alex Frendt, age 17: “Why ‘9’ Is Absolutely Worth Your Time”

Sophie Frieden, age 16: “Oppositional Enlightenment: A Review of Jhumpa Lahiri’s ‘A Temporary Matter’”

Sarah Hanson, age 17: “Reflection in the ‘Black Mirror’”

Matt Kinloch, age 18: “‘Arrival’ Movie Review”

Alexander Leo, age 15: “Laziz Kitchen: An Oasis of Flavor in A City of Salt”

Tim Mikulski, age 17: “Naf Naf Grill Surprises With Simplicity”

Emma Miller, age 17: “Amanda Knox: A Social Critique”

Bela Omoeva, age 14: “‘The Stranger’: A Meditation on the Nature of Existence”

Nandi Ndoro, age 15: “Black Girl Lemonade”

Kate Patalino, age 16: “Uber Car Services”

Rose Paxon, age 14: “Green Day Started Their Career With a ‘Bang’ and Added Two More With Revolution Radio”

Charlotte Robbins, age 15: “Coloring Book Shows Chance’s Switch from Los Angeles-Style Partying to Louisiana-Style Praying”

Meg Schwartz, age 17: “‘The Hole’: A New York City Gem”

Randall Seder, age 17: “It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World”

Khalil Siddeeq, age 14: “‘Luke Cage’ — A Hero for Hire”

Demetrios Ventouratos, age 17: “If You Yearn for Greek Food, E Taverna Is Your Place”

Ye Bin Won, age 17: “Hollywood’s Satan: The Surprising Depth and Creative Potential of FOX’s New Member”

荣誉奖

Will Armstrong, age 17: “Wind, Sand and Stars”

Jackie Ayers, age 15: “Black Pink in Your Area”

Eric Ballesteros, age 16: “Getting Groovy in the City Club”

Ishita Bhimavarapu, age 14: “Stranger Things: Horror, Mystery, Sci-Fi and Nostalgia”

Jean Cambareri, age 16: “Me and Your Mama Review”

Sydney Crawford, age 16: “Josey Records Leads Vinyl Revival”

Ally Crumb, age 16: “Kate McKinnon’s Hallelujah”

Catherine Dehaemers, age 17: “Sway, Swish, Splash: ‘The Dory’ by Edward Hopper”

Takanga Feimoefiafi, age 15: “Anderson Paak Review Through Malibu”

Naiem Gafar, age 17: “The High Line: Where Sustainability Embraces Rich History”

Marco Garcia, age 17: “‘We Got It From Here … Thank You 4 Your Service’: A Tribe Called Quest’s Final Chapter”

Lauren Ismert, age 17: “Cocktails and Breakfast: A Perfect Mix”

Moriana Jaco, age 16: “A Seat at the Grammys: Solange Knowles Sings Boldly in Her Triumphant Return”

Josh Karas, age 16: “‘Saint Pablo’ Review”

Ridhi Shashi Kumar, age 16: “‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’: Probably More Useful Than We Thought”

Milton Joonhee Lee, age 16: “Oden Restaurant: Value in Authenticity”

Brianna McAvey, age 14: “Addicted to ‘Go Ask Alice’”

Sabina Mehdi, age 19: “TILT’s Enchanted Promenade: The Streetlights of Wonderland”

Neve Polavarapu, age 17: “‘Sweet/Vicious’ TV Show Review”

Skye Richmond, age 16: “To Crutch or To Not Crutch, That Is The Question”

Paige Ritter, age 17: “Interview With a Serial Killer”

Ava Rossides, age 15: “A Heroine Soars From the Steppes”

Sadia Saba, age 17: “Gantry Plaza State Park”

Erin Schultz, age 16: “Sigur Rós’s Real-Life Soundscapes”

Julia Therrien, age 14: “‘The Other Wes Moore’ Will Leave The Readers With a New Life Perspective”

Tucker Tull, age 18: “Skyrim Special Edition Review”

Sydney Ward, age 15: “‘Flowers for Algernon’ Book Review”

Sophie Zimbler, age 15: “‘Black Mirror’: A Terrifying Look Into What Could Be Our Future”

Sometimes the name says it all.

Painted eight feet high on the back wall of Silver Spring, Maryland’s La Malinche is the restaurant’s namesake, a beautiful Nahua princess who aided the Spanish in their conquest of the Aztec Empire. Though lauded by history as the conjoiner of Spanish and Amerindian culture, La Malinche is reviled by many Latin Americans, denounced as a traitor who abetted the oppression and extermination of their ancestors. But within the confines of this tapas spot, past troubles are pushed aside in favor of small plates which effortlessly fuse Hispanic cuisine of the old and new worlds.

Founded by three brothers in November 2012, La Malinche impresses from first glance. Its warm color scheme and heavily decorated walls evoke the rich, historic spirit of Seville, from which tapas originate. Simultaneously, the restaurant’s décor, showcasing Central American art and imagery, reminds guests of the equally forceful presence of the new world in Hispanic culture.

La Malinche’s bicultural ambience perfectly prefaces its tapas. Given the restaurant’s diverse menu of meats, vegetables, and seafood, it is almost imperative to try it all. Luckily, La Malinche offers a $20 all-you-can-eat lunch special, offering an affordable means of sampling all the restaurant has to offer.

While La Malinche offers capable renditions of both Spanish classics, including pan catalana and tortilla española, and Latin standbys, like fried yuca and empanadas, the restaurant truly shines when blending both cuisines. The highlight of the menu is carne asada, grilled skirt steak topped with guacamole, onions and green peppers. The cilantro and coriander of the guacamole complement the traditional Spanish seasoning of the steak, creating a complex, layered taste which mandates a second helping. Likewise, the patatas bravas, fried wedged potatoes, are elevated through a distinctly Mexican chipotle aioli, which adds nuance to the typically crispy but bland Spanish dish. Other standout plates include the Mejillnoes al Vapór, steamed lemongrass mussels with a fresh Mediterranean flair, and the grilled asparagus spears, which are seared to a light char and smothered in salt and olive oil.

For all its success, certain menu options fall flat. The albondigas, traditional Spanish meatballs, are dry and over-seasoned, creating a musty taste. Similarly, the chorizo and pico de gallo are plainly underwhelming. Beyond the food, La Malinche appears chronically understaffed, leading to forgotten orders and habitually empty glasses.

Despite the hiccups, La Malinche offers an enjoyable culinary experience. By the time dessert (warm churros and buoyant caramel flan) is complete, a diner will have partaken in a unique cross-cultural dining experience. As the restaurant’s name promises, La Malinche presents an enjoyable blend of Spanish and Latin culture, though one decidedly less violent and controversial than its titular historical precedent.

What do you do when you’ve stolen millions of dollars and are being chased by a serial killer who wants that money? You run. In the film “No Country for Old Men,” this is exactly what Llewelyn Moss does. Set in 1980s Texas, Moss stumbles across a drug deal gone wrong while on a hunting trip. Among the carnage, Llewelyn finds a briefcase full of cash. Of course Llewelyn takes the money, but this does not end his story.

Adapted from Cormac McCarthy’s novel, the Coen brothers come together to create a spectacularly original film. Loaded with talented actors, Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Bardem, Josh Brolin and Kelly MacDonald being a few, this movie is a cinematic masterpiece. Suspenseful, violent and poetic, “No Country for Old Men” poses the question of morality itself. The movie seems to transform itself from being singularly a “chase” movie into something that is bigger than itself: a social commentary on the nature of violence.

The film opens with a monologue from our main protagonist, Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, played by Tommy Lee Jones. Scruffy, smart, intuitive, and on the chase after Moss and Chigurh, this sheriff stands as a symbol in the film’s major theme. Jones is so fitting to this character; it is hard to believe he is not actually a sheriff. Not to anyone’s surprise, Jones’s acting is impeccable in “No Country for Old Men.”

In “No Country for Old Men,” Moss is simply a character in the wrong place at the wrong time. Little does he know that stealing the money found would cause him to be chased by the merciless Anton Chigurh. Josh Brolin plays the simple cowboy role perfectly. Although simple, Brolin brings out the cunning in this cowboy. His wife, Carla Jean, is played by Kelly MacDonald. MacDonald depicts Carla Jean flawlessly as well, as a strong, faithful, stubborn woman.

A psychopathic, serial killer takes form in the character Anton Chigurh. Played by Javier Bardem, Chigurh’s character doesn’t believe in rules, but only in fate. With his twisted principles, Chigurh is willing to bargain your life with a flip of a coin. Bardem achieves this astonishing depiction of Chigurh with a dreadful haircut, a captive bolt pistol, and a mysterious persona. Chigurh, being the antagonist, is an awesomely terrifying creature.

A seemingly cat-and-mouse movie, in which the cat and mice never truly meet one another, “No Country for Old Men” is an epic tale. What makes this film so great is that it never outright makes a comment on morality, or violence, or any of the underlying themes of the film. It is up to the audience to decipher its meaning, and that may be different to each viewer. Without a doubt this film is clever, original, and deserves recognition for its beauty.

Set on the small fictional island of Pianosa, where the 256th squadron is stationed, “Catch-22”, a gloomy, comic, preposterous World War II novel written by Joseph Heller 55 years ago, confronts us with chaos and asks us to overcome it each in our own way.

Captain Yossarian, a cynical, young bombardier, has no problem being an antihero. With his goal of “living forever or die in the attempt,” he actively engages himself in efforts to get grounded or sent to hospital, but Catch-22, the imaginary rule of the 256th Squadron, the omnipresent double bind, always stops him at the last minute. If he is crazy, rule Catch-22 states, he does not have to fly more missions; but if he applies not to fly missions, he is not crazy. “That’s some catch, that Catch-22.” Even Yossarian respects its ingenuity.

Following Yossarian’s grotesque journey out of the war, I find myself frequently confused and challenged by Heller’s sharp, quizzical comments.

“Anything worth living for is worth dying for,” Nately says.

“Anything worth dying for is worth living for,” the old man from the brothel says.

Conversations like these tear open my preconceived ideals of justice and crime, bravery and cowardice, love and hate, and make me think more than twice about what’s right and what’s wrong.

The characters, too, seem to be the embodiment of conflicting qualities. Milo, the considerate, affectionate mess officer, ruthlessly accumulates wealth for his syndicate under the mask of patriotism. Orr, a small, simple-minded pilot, has a disastrous record of plane crashes, which turn out to be practice for his final escape. Is he good? Is he evil? Is he crazy? Is he not? Even the simplest questions have no simple answer for these men and women living in the upside-down world so close to our own.

By throwing us into a chaotic ocean of confusion and uncertainty, “Catch-22” helps us learn to swim in it. It also inspires me to see the world beneath its appearance, where the real-life Catch-22s exist. As a Chinese in America, do I stay in my own culture or try to integrate into another that I may never fully understand? Do we choose to be disheartened by the thorny problems of contemporary society or pretend to have solved them by moving up the “satin-ribbon bombing line” on the map? After witnessing the war’s mercilessness and struggling through internal conflicts, Yossarian is firmer than ever in his will to survive. After experiencing “Catch-22,” literary or real, we are called to strengthen our own character by trying to answer the hardest questions and making the toughest choices.

Watch out! Catch-22 is always there to mess with your best-laid plans.

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.