In a book-filled room—before a goblin’s cap and image of a cat—the Friday Reading Group had been talking Shakespeare.
Professor Josh Cohen had been speaking of Titus Andronicus with Debra San and Lin Haire-Sargeant and Carol McCarthy and Louise Myers and Athans Boulukos and Norrie Epstein and Robert Gerst, readers all, professors all…
Made a movie? A film festival nearby or far might be the right place to show it. They are numerous, many are wonderful, and most are open to submissions.
Professor Chico Colvard curates the Independent Film Festival Boston. FilmFreeway lists many others. This one waives submission fees for Mass Art student documentary filmmakers.
The film premiers at the Museum of Modern Art’s Docs Fortnight 2018. ArtsDaily.org describes Docs 2018 as the Musuem of Modern Art’s
“17th annual showcase of outstanding and innovative nonfiction film from around the world. This year’s festival, which runs February 15–26, 2018, includes an international selection of more than 20 documentary features and an extensive program of short films, with filmmakers and artists present for discussions following many of the films. These screenings represent the North American, US, or New York premiere of nearly every film featured in the festival—along with the world premieres of Susanna Styron’s Out of My Head (2017), Jeffrey Perkins’s George (2017), Chico Colvard’s Black Memorabilia (2017), Jules Rosskam’s Paternal Rites (2017), Michelle Memran’s The Rest I Make Up (2017), Amy Jenkins’s Instructions on Parting (2018), and more. Doc Fortnight 2018 is organized by Kathy Brew, Guest Curator, with Gianna Collier-Pitts. ”
Go visit!
Writes Professor Jennie Rebecca Falcetta:
Although I consistently see fine visual art projects from Literary Traditions students, Elizabeth’s Ogle’s Odyssey book is unusually exquisite and painstaking. Furthermore, she based her visual work on Emily Wilson’s new rendition of the Odyssey, the first version of the epic translated by a woman.
Elizabeth opens with an examination of the word in the first poem’s first line, the basis of a New York Times profile of Wilson’s translation, and then proceeds with a unique visual response.
Writes Elizabeth Ogle (’20):
I came across an article in The New York Times by Wyatt Mason about the translation process of Emily Wilson, the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English. I was inspired by Wilson’s description of the word, πολύτροπον or polytropon, as quoted in the article:
The prefix poly,” Wilson said, laughing, “means ‘many’ or ‘multiple.’ Tropos means ‘turn.’ ‘Many’ or ‘multiple’ could suggest that he’s much turned, as if he is the one who has been put in the situation of having been to Troy, and back, and all around, gods and goddesses and monsters turning him off the straight course that, ideally, he’d like to be on. Or, it could be that he’s this untrustworthy kind of guy who is always going to get out of any situation by turning it to his advantage. It could be that he’s the turner.
“Then, then in the same breath Zeus hit the craft with a lightning bolt and thunder…
Reading this caused me to re-examine Odysseus’ character and credibility. As I did so, I came to realize that Odysseus is neither exclusively the “turned” nor the “turner”—he is both. I chose to explore this visually in five ink-and-watercolor illustrations. The logic with which I approached, executed, and arranged these illustrations was to portray Odysseus as “turned” in the first illustration, and increasingly more “turning” in each subsequent illustration.
In the final illustration, the seemingly omniscient Athena looks on while Odysseus, lashed to the mast, feasts his ears on the Sirens’ song. I chose to show Odysseus reflected in the goddess’ eye because of the numerous epithetical references to her eyes: “sparkling-eyed Athena” (1:53), “Her eyes glinting” (1:206), “the clear-eyed goddess” (1:256), “bright-eyed Pallas” (2:422), “her eyes brightening now” (13:268), “gray eyes gleaming,” (13:325), “her glances flashing warmly” (13:375), “eyes afire” (13:412), “Gray eyes ablaze” (13:448), etc.
“Always the same, your wary turn of mind”
This epithetical trend characterizes her as omniscient—she is all-seeing, all-knowing, and all-wise. Odysseus’ decision to listen to the Sirens’ “thrilling song” (12:199) was a completely unnecessary and selfish risk at the expense of his men, who would be disordered if not lost without their captain. I took some artistic liberty in this illustration as well: Athena is not said to be present in this scene. I included her because of the exchange between Odysseus and the goddess which takes place after Odysseus finally lands on Ithaca. She chides him, “Always the same, your wary turn of mind…” (13:374). Her words are clearly sarcastic: it is evident that the all-seeing goddess has been witness to many of Odysseus’ detours, otherwise she could not have formed any opinion of him. Having witnessed his two lengthy liaisons and especially his selfish insistence upon hearing the deadly Sirens, the goddess of wisdom could not seriously call him “wary.”
“You who turned my men to swine”
The ambiguous word πολύτροπον raises an issue of which the Greek oral tradition and Homer (if he is indeed the author of the written epic) were well aware. That is, the epic deals fundamentally with the question of fate and free will: are our choices truly our own, based only upon reasoning and desire? Do we determine our own futures? To what extent are both these things influenced by our personal and generational pasts, by our genes, by the intervention of unseen deities, each with their own agenda?
“Odysseus journeys home—the exile must return. But not in the convoy of live gods or mortal men, No, on a lashed, makeshift raft and wrung with pain.”
Among Picassos and a clip from 1950’s Lassie and paintings by George Garrard and Gustave Courbet are drawings of dogs that never existed imagined by students in Professor Norrie Epstein’s Dogs and Their Humans freshman seminar.
We humans lead and follow dog companions. We return home to “a hound that lay there raised his head and pricked up his ears, Argos, the hound of Odysseus.“
Natalie Martinez appraises her “St. Pugard” as “loyal and affectionate,” “a great guard dog like a German Shepherd or a Giant Schnauzer.”
The Nox, writes Rio Castanenda-Gurtherau, means “night” in Latin.
Linda Nyguen envisions her “Shigo” as “small” and “soft-looking.” Dogs like that, she writes, “are more approachable than big ones.”
The “Seco” belongs in the dessert, according to Joe Causey.
The American Bulle Dog, writes Damon Dye, is the dog for rock climbers and hikers.
“The new, life-changing breed, the ‘Dormer,'” writes Anna Reidister, “is a companion for anybody living in a small space (apartment, dorm, etc.) with a no-pet policy. The Dormer can easily be hidden inside a large cookie tin or laundry basket when your RD or landlord comes around. Affectionate, quiet, and hypoallergenic, this dog is the perfect inconspicuous fit into your life.
The Dormer is a combination of multiple breeds: the Russian Toy and Maltese for size; the Bichon Frise for size, hypoallergenics, and cuddliness; the Leonberger for body shape; the Plott hound for sweetness and resoluteness; the Whippet for intelligence and quietness; and finally the Golden Retriever and Border Collie for fur texture, length, and markings. Note that the Dormer’s appearance is simply based on personal preference.”
The pointed ears of the “Boston Motherhound,” writes Chloe Dealmeida, prevent children from pulling them. And the dog’s short tail keeps the dog from hitting small children.
Writes Jameson Bernard (’21) for Dogs and Their Humans:
My dog breed is called the Avion de Papier, French for “paper airplane”, because they are very light in weight and are good at weaving around obstacles, turning like a paper plane in the wind.
Characteristics:
Slower gait (shorter legs)
Liftable by myself (15-20 lbs)
Less activity needed, lower energy
Suited for a dorm or smaller apartment (smaller size)
Less of a chase and kill response (avoiding terrier similarities, not needed)
Less shedding (I often have either wet paint or projects on the floor)
Confident, friendly demeanor (helping me feel more capable walking out in public)
Greatest strength: weaving between obstacles (the various detritus I leave on my floor), requiring clear eyesight and a thinner build.
Avion de Papier are part of the hound class, with the general build and size of a dachshund. Their fur texture and coloring is like that of a Shih Tzu: creams and neutral greys. Their hair only falls out when brushed, making them hypoallergenic.
The Avion de Papier has the strong eyesight of a greyhound, with more frontal-facing socket placement. They look down longer snouts as well, making breathing issues uncommon.
Their general personality tends to be a mix between the dachshund’s more forward nature and the Cavalier King Charles spaniel’s low energy and friendliness, making them good therapy dogs that need less exercise.
Due to their size and general demeanor, the Avion de Papier is perfectly suited for my lazy dorm life, while still being properly trainable to avoid stepping on/bumping into my art projects, or anything else for that matter. I feel that their friendliness and courage would inspire me to feel more motivated when I’m in a rut.
Writes Laryssa Fliatov (’21):
My imaginary Dogs & Their Humans dog is a “Spanielton.” The dog has the head of an Irish water setter and the body of a Bedlington Terrier.
This dog is conveniently sized—not too big or small, easy indoors and outdoors, hypoallergenic due to a combination of hairs forming a natural water repellant coat rather than fur. You groom this dog once or twice a year. The dog’s long face is good to get into corners to retrieve things, and the friendly personality that the dog inherits from both species make the Spanielton great with kids.
My Ideal Dog (Detail), Madeline Peck
Writes Madeline Peck (’21) for Dogs and Their Humans:
My ideal dog…Big enough to help me, but not big enough to be noticeable. Strong teeth to hold bags if I drop them and can’t pick them up. Soft fur that doesn’t shed and doesn’t really grown that long naturally.
(See her image and statement together on a different background here.)
Writes Professor Norrie Epstein:
Austin Jagodynski’s imaginary dog for Dogs and Their Humans, the “Medium Biscotti,” is based on the dog in Chekhov’s short story, “Kashtanka.”
The story begins thus:
A YOUNG dog, a reddish mongrel, between a dachshund and a “yard-dog,” very like a fox in face, was running up and down the pavement looking uneasily from side to side. From time to time she stopped and, whining and lifting first one chilled paw and then another, tried to make up her mind how it could have happened that she was lost.
