Author: Jandy Page 100 of 145

So You Think You Can Dance 4×01: LA Auditions

I LOVE SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE!!! I have missed it. You may have been able to discern a creeping apathy towards American Idol over the past few months, what with the lack of posting and all. Some of that was due to busyness, yes, but some of it was also I didn’t feel like putting up with it when it was actually on. But I feel nothing but excitement for SYTYCD. Let’s hope it keeps up. There is one note of apprehension about this season, and that is that apparently Wade Robson is no longer doing the show (perhaps he’s doing a group number, but not being a judge?), and neither is Shane Sparks. That pretty much leaves Mia Michaels as the only choreographer who consistently wows me. But we’ll see.

Here’s a handy list I made watching tonight for why SYTYCD is better than AI. And this is just from the auditions:

  • The audition section isn’t a joke. Yes, they have their share of terrible and funny dancers, but the humor is not as mean as on AI. The focus is always on the audition itself rather than backstage shenanigans/sob stories, which means you get a good sense of individual auditions rather than just a montage of clips separated by three or four longer numbers. And the ratio of good auditions to bad ones is much higher.
  • Cat Deeley. She’s beautiful, she’s British, she’s genuine, and she knows how to host without hogging all the screen time. I swear, she was on-screen tonight for a total of about four minutes, in a two-hour time slot. Ryan is on-screen probably 1/3 of the show, taking time away from the people we’re supposed to be watching.
  • The human interest stories aren’t played as much for sobs and feel more sincere. One auditioner tonight was visually impaired, and while she didn’t get through, the judges all struck a sincere note of gratitude for her attempt and inspiration while being honest that she didn’t have a chance in the competition.
  • I’ve said it twice: sincerity. I believe the judges, especially Mia, when they say things, or when they’re moved to tears. I do not believe Randy, Paula, and Simon anymore. They aren’t sincere anymore.
  • Relatedly, the judges care about this, and they’re having fun with it, too. Especially this year, the AI judges don’t seem to be having fun anymore. If you look back at earlier AI seasons, even Simon seemed to be enjoying many of the auditions, good and bad. Now he’s just bored and frustrated most of the time. I love Simon, I really do, but something’s gone wrong…maybe just time for a judge switch or something. (Interestingly, he seems to have far more fun on the British version, The X-Factor, than he does on AI.)
  • The judges are critical without being mean. Most of the time. They can be mean, and were more so a couple of years ago, but generally they’re good at actually giving constructive criticism.
  • Continuity with previous seasons. Of the auditioners featured tonight, five of them had auditioned previous years, and I remembered all but one of them. And the judges brought up the criticisms and encouragements they’d made in previous years and noted how the dancer had improved or not in those areas. These repeat auditioners (with notable exceptions) are serious about improving their dancing to get on the show, which says a lot both about them and about the show – it’s seen as a place to test yourself, to try new things and learn to become a better dancer rather than as only a showcase for your existing talent. This year American Idol tried to emphasize the singers’ growth and treat it as an avenue to better performing, but it’s not that (Australian Idol is to a greater degree, just sayin’).
  • Continuity with previous seasons, part 2. Not only are the auditioners repeats, but former contestants show back up. Travis Wall, runner-up in Season Two, was running the choreography segments tonight. Last year’s b-boys Dominic and Hok were in attendance, checking out the auditions from the side boxes. Last year, Season Two winner Benji choreographed one of the best routines of the season, and Season Three contestant Lauren had worked as an assistant on the show earlier. Where American Idol relies on outside celebrity talent as guest coaches and performers, So You Think You Can Dance relies on internal talent and thus is much more meaningful to repeat viewers. It has to, to some degree, because dance is a less celebrity-driven profession than singing, but it makes the show feel much more homey and familiar.

Is it next week yet?

American Idol Top 2

Is it just me, or were they REALLY pushing Archuleta for the win? I pretty much picked Cook over Archuleta every round, and then Simon did the opposite. Not that the judges and I usually agree, it just seemed like both Simon and Randy were giving Archuleta more praise than he deserved. His first song was not flawless, and the songwriters’ song he chose was not better.

So here’s the question. Are they pushing Archuleta for the win because they really think he’s better? Because he’s more marketable? Because they secretly want Cook to come in second because he’ll have more creative freedom without Idol’s contract? Because they secretly want Cook to win and they’re using reverse psychology hoping to motivate Cook’s voters? I’m totally overthinking this aren’t I?

And then the question for me, and how/whether I vote. I want Cook to win because I think he’s ten times better than Archuleta. On the other hand, I don’t want him to win because I don’t want him to make Idol’s record, I want him to make HIS record. Maybe I’ll just let it alone and save my cell phone bill. :)

In unrelated life news, I’m all moved out of Waco and am back in St. Louis for a couple of weeks before I drive out to LA and find an apartment. And a job. Hopefully will have leads on that before I go out there. So that’s what’s going on, for those of you wondering.

Last Paper In!

Who can write 20 pages of academic prose in one day when she really sets her mind on it? That would be me. That moment when procrastination turns into focused concentration? Good moment. Although it apparently hit too early this time, because I had two hours to spare. ;)

So that’s my last assignment ever for my last class ever. Of this Master’s degree. I have very little faith in my ability to stay away from school for ever. But for now. Yay.

The paper was on Godard, and I’ll probably post it on The Frame once I get it back and, you know, have confirmation that it didn’t totally suck. I feel good about it, which is usually a bad sign, so we’ll see.

Wow, you know what this means? I can read ANYTHING I WANT before going to bed now. I haven’t done that since…well, Christmas, but even then I was trying to read ahead for classes. So, then, since 2006. Really. I’m not sure I remember how to make reading decisions on my own. I’m a little overwhelmed by the possibilities.

Bordwell on Godard

David Bordwell has a whole chapter on Jean-Luc Godard in Narration in the Fiction Film; I almost returned the book to the library without reading it, but I’m so glad I didn’t. It’s great. And this quote is so right:

Those who dislike Godard’s films may well find the works’ resistance to large-scale coherence incredibly frustrating; those who admire the films have probably learned to savor a movie as a string of vivid, somewhat isolated effects.

I find myself more and more savoring films that are a string of vivid, somewhat isolated effects rather than devoted to large-scale coherence. Perhaps something to keep in mind when you decide whether to take or leave my recommendations. ;)

Objective and Subjective Aesthetics

There are a couple of month-old posts over on Gene Edward Veith’s blog that I’ve been thinking about for, well, a month. Not constantly, of course. And I haven’t commented on them, and probably won’t, because of the amount of time that’s passed, but still. I’m thinking about them.  It started when he posted briefly about aesthetics and American Idol, noting that Carly Smithson and David Cook were the two best performers, but that he liked Brooke White and Michael Johns the best. His point was that "liking" something or someone is not the same as it being "good." I’d agree with that to a certain extent, but I’m a little bothered by the way he just laid it out there without giving any reason why Carly and David are "good" but Brooke and Michael are only worthy of "like."  Everyone who reads me knows that I like Brooke a lot more than Carly, and I might be willing to go farther.

If you judge Brooke and Carly on vocal range, Carly wins, I’ll admit. If you judge them on vocal tone quality, I’m not sure. If you judge on sincerity, Brooke wins. If you judge on being an artist rather than just a singer, Brooke wins. I sense a singer-songwriter in Brooke that I don’t in Carly. Now, you can say that American Idol is a singing contest and not a singer-songwriter contest, and that’s fine. You might be right (though the judges’ praise of David C’s arranging skills tell a bit of a different story). Given that, you could probably say that within the context of American Idol, Carly was a more fitting contestant. However, my criteria for a good artist involve sincerity, artistry, and originality, and I see more potential for those things in Brooke than in Carly. Hence, I feel justified in saying that Brooke is better.

See what’s happened there? I changed the criteria for judgement. Within one set of criteria, the ones involving purely vocal ability, Carly is objectively better. But within the other set, which involves the way the vocal ability is applied, Brooke is objectively better. Okay, perhaps you can disagree with me about that (I have even more trouble removing subjectivity from musical taste than from taste in other art forms), which means that even that might be a subjective valuation, but my point is that you can make objective judgements, but they still depend on shifting criteria.  Who decides what the criteria are, and is that decision an objective one?

The second Veith post takes off from a comment made on the American Idol post about having to work harder for some great aesthetic pleasures – i.e., something you didn’t "like" at first can become a much deeper pleasure if you work at, which you do because you know it’s "good." I would agree with that, as well, but I still have reservations about the whole thing. The example used was Milton, and I’ll be honest with you, I can’t stand Milton. We were supposed to read parts of Paradise Lost in a World Lit class, and I slogged through as best I could, but I hated every second of it. Last fall, I had the choice between a seminar on Milton and one in Rhetoric and Composition. And I chose the class about teaching composition to freshman, a job I will never have, so that I wouldn’t have to take Milton. So I’m biased on that example. And, of course, since I just admitted that I haven’t read Paradise Lost completely, I can’t in good faith use it in this argument, so I’ll have to take a slightly different tack.

If there are truly objective aesthetic criteria, then theoretically they should be true for all times and places, yes? Yet when you look at literary history, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Values shift over time and from place to place…the French have never embraced Shakespeare, for example, the way English-speakers do, and it’s not merely a translation issue, because Germans valued him before even the English did. Neoclassicals appreciated Homer, but felt that he was too rough and vulgar, especially in comparison with later, more polished writers from the height of Greek civilization; when the Romantics came on the scene, they valued Homer BECAUSE he was rough and had greater vitality than later Greek writers. So which is the right objective criteria? Smoothness or roughness? Polish or raw vitality? The sublime or the beautiful?

The Victorian novel saw itself as, at least in part, a purveyor of moral lessons. Nothing should be depicted that might offend or lead astray. The late 19th-century realist novelists thought their mission was to show life as it was, whether or not it was pretty or moral (some, like Henry James, were sure that it was more moral to be honest about the dark sides of life). By the time High Modernism rolled around, the moralizing narrators of Dickens and Eliot had nearly disappeared to make way for detached, non-committal ones. So is the novel’s job to promote morality? Is it to depict life? Is it to be moral though depicting life? Is it to hold off judgement and allow the reader to do the interpreting?

I gravitate toward 20th century literature, enjoy some from the 19th century, and try to stay as far away from the 18th as possible, so you can probably guess which criteria I tend to pick when I’m deciding what to call good. Narrators/authors who let the reader decide what to think = good. Ones who tell the reader what to think = bad. Books that focus on consciousness and the inner life = good. Ones that focus on detailed physical descriptions and events = bad (or at least, less good – some authors do this to great effect). Art that is raw and vital and creates forms that fit the moment = good. Art that is perfectly polished according to specific pre-determined forms = bad. (And just to bring in Milton again, evocative simplicity = good, pretentious complexity = bad; I’m not a huge poetry fan in general, but I would much prefer to read Langston Hughes or Sylvia Plath or, like, haiku than Milton or most any other pre-Romantic poet, and even the Romantics frustrate me at times. Get over yourself, Wordsworth, for serious. Less is more.)

I can objectively say that given those criteria, the Romantics are better than the Neoclassicals and the Modernists are better than the Victorians. However, those criteria are NOT objective, and are based on, yes, what I like better, but not just me. Large groups of people have championed these criteria. But equally large groups of people have championed the opposite criteria, as well. So my question is – on purely aesthetic matters, how can the criteria by which something is judged be chosen in a completely objective manner, and who has the authority to choose that criteria? Maybe what I think is that you can judge things objectively, but you have to agree on the terms first. Kind of like for logical arguments to work, you have to accept the premises (or prove them, which is usually going to depend on other premises that have to be accepted or proven, and so on). And now I should actually go write my Victorian Novel paper, which is, ironically, about aestheticism.

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