Saturday, February 16, 2013

REMEMBERING LINDA

Linda first popped into my life when I had an office on the 6th floor of the Education Building and had just finished my stint as Chair of Music and Performing Arts and assumed directorship of the music education program. She struck me as buoyant and youthful, and reminded me of a bobbysoxer from the days of my past. She was a charming southern belle, and she was passionate about music. She had visited the musicology department in Arts and Sciences but did not feel at home there, so she decided to seek out the School of Education which is now called The Steinhardt School of Culture, Education and Human Development.

Right from the start I felt a rapport with Linda. I could sense her passion for music and her determination to continue to grow. She said little about her family life, except to say that her husband Greg was undergoing a crisis in his health and that she was devoted to caring for him and his well being. But she had a sense that music was calling her to explore new possibilities for herself. She wanted to know if NYU music education would provide her the freedom and support to do serious research. She pointed out she was a teacher, but she was also an organist with an enthusiasm for scholarly excellence. "Your experience will be what you make it,'' I said, "and you will find strong support and room to be original." She began her study as a part-time student with a true love for learning. She was an explorer and was constantly researching, writing, working for causes, and engaging her students in her personal and musical discoveries.

Her presence with her colleagues was uplifting, sustaining, and refreshing. She was constantly reassuring her fellow doctoral cohorts. She was critical but constructive, engaged in dialectical exchange, and most of all, a source of inspiration and encouragement. In everything she touched, there was a thirst for excellence and quality.

Her NYU odyssey began about seven years ago, and it has been a joy to be a witness to her inquiry and to help shape its direction. As she was entering the final stages of her research we made plans to meet in October, but then she sent a message that it was determined she was fighting cancer. I was optimistic that she would recover. As Christmas was approaching, she encouraged me to finish putting music to a Christmas poem I was writing. On November 24, she asked "How is the song coming?" Actually, I was so discouraged by her illness that I was struggling.

In replying to how the song was going, I wrote "Slowly... Trying to be traditional with a twist... Know what I need to do, but doesn't jell. Waiting in Favela Cubana for brunch with a friend ... Nice cold day with the promise of winter in the air..."

Linda wrote back: "Yeah, even looked like snow earlier.  Maybe that could be in the song, too.  I love it that you are such a Romantic, in addition, of course, to being a profound creator of new music!"

And so these lyrics came so fast:

"Maybe it is snowing
Christmas from above
Maybe winds are blowing
New Year hopes of love."

And these lines came as I thought of Linda and the extraordinary adventure we shared in music and her research and the ordeal she was facing:

"Fears disappear
And all that's here
Is all the Love of every year..
We see the truth of who we are
As bright as any Christmas star."

It was with great joy for me to learn that the music therapist at Sloan Kettering sang the song for her while Linda was able to follow the score with Greg's help.

Sadly, we lost Linda. Her husband Greg sent a message: "Following 2 weeks of Hospice care in our home, Linda died on Monday afternoon, January 28th.  Our daughter and I were with her, and our son joined us soon afterward. "

Her research was on the Third Chorale Prelude of Cesar Franck, his final composition which was not finished. Although fully notated, on the day he intended to put in the registration and interpretative markings he passed away, thus leaving a mystery concerning his intentions for the work. Linda's research is original, inquisitive, and inspiring. Almost in symmetry to her musical inspiration Franck, Linda had completed her research, transcribed the materials and needed only to add the finishing touches to her dissertation when she left us.

She was just beginning as a professor at NYU, mentoring M.A. students with their thesis requirements. I see her touches in the department everywhere. She continued to attend Proposal Seminar long after she had finished coursework to listen to our critiques and comments about the ongoing research. Her presence was such a source of inspiration. I see her still, sitting in the seminar, still inspiring students, still looking to me like a bobbysoxer in her pale blue sweater, wonderful smile, and buoyant optimism.


Sunday, February 10, 2013

Discovering Digital Awareness

Sunday morning,
Sitting for breakfast
With world-wide strangers...
Across from me,
A young man connected
To the ethereal digital world
Scrolls among his multimedia:
His laptop, tablet, and smart phone...
Occasionally tapping keys
And smiling sardonically,
Reveling in revelations
Echoing across synthetic synapses
Of some emerging global awareness
Manifest in a solitary compression
Of infinite possibility.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Maybe There's A Christmas

Maybe it is snowing
Christmas from above
Maybe winds are blowing
New Year hopes of love.
Maybe there's a Christmas
Just for you and me.
Maybe we can make it
All it's meant to be...
More than gifts and deck the halls
More than trees and shopping malls
Fears disappear
And all that's here
Is all the Love of every year..
We see the truth of who we are
As bright as any Christmas star.
All the years keep passing,
Falling flakes of snow.
Each of them is different,
How sad to see them go.
Maybe there's a christmas
Deep inside our hearts
Maybe peace is coming
Maybe now it starts.
So it keeps on snowing
And the winds keep blowing,
And the year is going
Fading fast away
Maybe here's the Christmas
Everyone can see
Maybe we're the miracles
Always meant to be.
Maybe it is Christmas.
Surely this is Christmas,
Yes, it must be Christmas today.

Copyright December, 2012 
John Gilbert
All Rights Reserved

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Still Singing

Two years ago I wrote about a poem from my Poet's Passage that was a challenge to myself: "I Still Have Songs to Sing." I have continued to sing, and now resume a project that is more challenging yet, but perhaps possessing some potential to create and bring something new into the world. Actually as I am writing this, I am listening to Lost Works, a short tone poem that was part of a series. As I listen to it, I find it totally new... hearing things I didn't know were there. When one visits the website of Poet's Passage, it plays automatically.

Time has passed, and I am a different poet now. I read the words of the past and listen to past inventions with a new ear. Time has dissolved my ties to past works. I hold no secrets to their emergence. I listen to Lost Works and wonder why I didn't do more works like this. The orchestration of new instruments is rich, and the textures are sometimes profound. I listen with wonder. "Did I do that..." I ask myself, words falling silent in an empty room.

In the emptiness of this chamber, I hear new sounds... my fingers wander over the keys as though guided by some inner force. I recognize some fragments, but they grow in different directions than the past, they find new pathways and diversions.

I realize I never knew who I was or even now who I am. I stand outside myself hearing the collective sounds that now define my identity, realizing that the filter of my mind transforms them into some mysterious substance of myself. Then I understand that we share this filtering. Each of us filters infinite possibilities into discrete realities that define us and define each other.

My voice is different now and yet the same. I am still searching and stumbling across neglected terrain and finding new miracles. But I am confronted by the hastening of Time. I see the constellations of my existence racing away from each other faster than the speed of light. I am confronted by sense of loss of the past and the lost presence of those who were fellow explorers who supported and inspired me. They have gone on to other feasts, and I still stumble in the accelerated debris rendezvousing at destinations yet unknown.

Too much distracted, I must remember to sing.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Final Hours

This is the final post for a difficult year, a year filled with extremes, with challenges and stellar accomplishments, with gains and losses. Posts to this Blog this year have been infrequent, but they have been serious journeys of inquiry.

Perhaps the greatest gain has been the discovery that the only we gift we really have is time and that whatever time might be, it becomes transformed when we create something which indelibly stamps the moment with a tangible and palpable presence that carries its beingness into the present and into the continuing ongoingness of Time.  We are creating the fabric of meaning that is inextricably the texture of Time itself.  This transformative act is intertwined as the process and product of humankind enriched by the depth and multiplicity of consciousness that erupts into singular awareness.

Time is the essence of creation.  It is original burst of awareness that created the texture of becoming. We can literally look at the past, since we exist in the context of the speed of light, which we use to measure the presencing of now and to peer backward through Time perceived as Space. With more powerful instruments we can look ever further back into the "beginning" of Time, in search of that moment of ignition that launched the flow from nothingness into somethingness.

My last post, until now was on my birthday, that marked the beginning of Time's gift to me of itself. I didn't post again because I thought that maybe that was my last post, and that I was in my final days. But then I realized that we are all in our final days. All of us confront each moment just as each moment confronts us to extract meaning, to experience and savor the essence unfolding as conscious awareness of the present, of Now.

Central to the creation of Now is the understanding of its finite properties.  Nothing is forever, and even as we create to savor and deepen our awareness of being, the knowledge that our possession of Time is limited, is finite, is hurtling to the edge of a singularity.  The singularity of the Black Hole remains a metaphor and mystery... there is a sense that Time itself stops and a dimension unknown to our understanding redefines reality, perhaps dissolves into another parallel reality. Perhaps the universe itself is simply the conscious awareness of the evolving isness.

The Mayans are said to understand that the year 2012 would be the final days of the universe, observing that the universe will end on 12/21/2012.  Yet, I celebrate this new year knowing that the hours unfolding hold the promise of fulfillment, of extraordinary creation and wondrous discovery.  Our experience of Time is not arbitrary.  Our connection with Time unfolding is the only reality we witness... it is an energy exploding, illuminating consciousness as dynamic awareness. Each possession of Now is unique and singular and in this incandescent aliveness we embrace the possibilities on the leading edge of Time as our gift of choice and creating.

In these final days of 2011 I have written new text, poetry, and music... each instance as a connection of time and celebrating the discovery of what each moment contained...   I think I look back on those moments of creation, but actually those moments are contained in my awareness of now, which is pulse of Infinite Awareness. I can see that everything is the yin and the yang, but there is that infinite pause of silence where opposites meet... some call it the silence, the emptiness... and from that comes the substance of our creating. In these final moments I am punctuating time with text in our electronic consciousness. For me it is an act of creating meaning for these final moments, not as what is being said, but as something that is in the act of becoming.

So for this planet at this time, we end an old year and begin a new one. It belongs only to us, but is infinitely replicated. It is our celebration of Time itself. This is the one true religion that unites us all in spite of ourselves.

Monday, September 05, 2011

The Integrity of Conscious Awareness

I am passing through uncharted waters at the point where conventional practice is to note the moment of coming into the world and to celebrate it.  So I have friends who click me as is the custom in these modern days, and one or two have sent electronic cards full of the right words and images to call attention that today is passing by, and I'm still here. These waters are uncharted as each day that carves out a place in Time is always new.  It is the newness of things that attracts us, but looking back at these days, as they enter memory and gradually crumble into fragments of remembrance, becomes more complex as you reach that point when the days grow short.  And indeed they do,  "the days grow short when you reach September."  Would that I were really at September of my years, but I know the year is late and "I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep."

In the incandescence of intense awareness I embrace those who continue to define my existence, who have nourished me through their response and their dialogic challenge to my conscious awareness.  Thought is the one dimension that moves faster than light, and I have entered parallel universes with such astonishing speed that I see our notions of reality are so primitive and uninformed. We have such richness and depth in our experiences that we could spend lifetimes trying to decode them, and we do. Isn't this what authors do all the time in their exploring and constructing new realities? 

It has been observed that nothing in the known universe contradicts Newton's law of entropy where energy (and matter) dissipates until finally all order disappears. The ordered universe is rushing headlong into disorder.  But there is one problem with Newton's observation: it doesn't include life, or the emergence of thinking, and finally consciousness. Life indeed does evolve toward greater order. Newton's universe is a machine, running like clockwork, but running down.  We are not in that universe, but standing somewhere observing it.

What has energized my thinking and action has been conscious awareness which is more than just consciousness.  This awareness is powerful and faster than the speed of light. It can leap to new realities and new awareness in an instant of insight and understanding. Some might describe this as a spiritual dimension, seeking some way of accounting for experience that is outside of our physical world bound by Newton's laws.

So now as I receive the best wishes in passing from friends and acquaintances, I appreciate that they are celebrating an event I had no control over. I do have prebirth memories, and I do note the days of birth and immediately following.  I still can see my father's blue eyes and his smile as he held me on a pillow in his lap and smiled down at me. I had an instance of insight that I had been particularized, and there was no way out, and what followed was an journey of learning how to survive, how to overcome each day, how to follow some path whose destiny was yet to be revealed.

I understand Hemingway's observations and the comments of existentialists who posit that while we have no control over how we come into this world, we do have a choice as to when and how we leave it.  From the standpoint of existentialism, life is meaningless.  We have the choice to create meaning, and our integrity stems from creating meaning and to understand that death is inevitable, but meaningless. Hemingway had reached a point where he believed  he could no longer create meaning with his life. The one remaining act was the deliberate choice to decide when and how to die. I do perceive we each must make meaning through our acts and choices. Creating meaning is our means for overcoming existential angst.

I just finished reading Yukio Mishima, a Japanese author who took his life in 1970.  He wrote an astonishingly lucid book about a Japanese officer and his wife who chose to end their lives as a final act of giving meaning to their life. Their deaths were an act of honor and bravery. The wife witnessed his death to celebrate his courage and a life of commitment to his country. She cherished her role as witness and followed him in death. Their final shared moments served to climax a life of constructed meaning. Their awareness of life and each other was never so vivid as in their final moments.

All of this now leaps out in vivid clarity in these unfolding days of September. Where once I looked for the meaning of life, I know that there is no answer to that question except the palpable destiny of my journey that constructs significance in an ever unfolding context.   At this juncture of my 75th year, I have more ideas, creative energy, and concrete projects than in years past, and I attribute this to new connections with others at a deeper level of conscious awareness.  There are those in my life that infuse me with a deeper sense of commitment to pursuing a universe of consciousness where life actually transcends and moves in the opposite direction of entropy. This maintains an integrity of conscious awareness at a level I have not experienced until now. But the most exciting prospect is that it is continuing to evolve.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

IMPACT 2011: Exploring Slices of Time

Urban Jungles (All Photos by Dr. Chianan Yen, All Rights Reserved.)
IMPACT 2011 at New York University was an exciting panorama of collaborative invention from July 25 through August 12. The production of "works in process" was performed in Frederick Loewe Theatre August 11 and was streamed live on the Internet. Interdisciplinary production teams collaborated and collected their work under the title Creating New Worlds. A breakdown of the scenes may be seen at IMPACT 2011: Creating New Worlds.
The opening Urban Jungles was derived from daily movement and visual arts activities, beginning with texting, and reflecting the process by which many individuals intersected to form interlocking groups working together.

The focus of IMPACT (Interactive Multimedia Performing Arts Collaborative Technology) is about collaborative process. Interdisciplinary production teams of international participants explore ideas in various media which are shaped into structures of media, theatre, with elements of all the arts permeating each scene conceptually powered by some paradigm or theme developed through interactive process. For convenience, eight interdisciplinary production teams were established to create and shape time and scene as a collaborative artistic entity.  Material was derived from daily experiences, including warm ups, focused or specialized workshops, and combined arts workshops.

The striking images here are from the camera and artistry of Dr. Chianan Yen.  These are "snapshots" of dynamic moments in scenes of movement and media interaction.  This documenting of moments transforms the essence of the content. What emerges from this is an essay in visual content with description and explanation that creates new material from the old content. We begin to realize from these images how multimedia can transform the scale of the experience.


 Suddenly performers are the content of the eye peering out from the screen. We glimpse them in an unexpected moment. Unexpected because they are in the flow of the moment, in the transformative action that segues into successive moments in a steady flow, but the camera enables us to trap time, to freeze it for our scrutiny. We gain insight into the moment.  The moment is performed again in a transfixed texture where we can see each detail. Structure and form leap out at us because we are not distracted by the motion.
The power of camera is to slice Time at a particular moment. The fixed image often contains dynamic kinesthetic power like a spring tightly wound about to be released. We sense the energy and imagine what the release will unleash. Proportion changes the relationship of objects and we can experience parallel movement in different dimensions and different scales. The still image releases the imagination to speculate on what will unfold in the next few instances. The still image communicates the power inherent in the juxtaposition of contrasting ideas and images. In the differences we discover the similarities. It doesn't matter if you have actually witnessed the movement inherent in the single frame. Still images engage the imagination in ways quite different than moving images. Still images allow us to look at the details embedded in that single instance. We submerge ourselves in the details of the moment, the isolation and implied connections.
Although the photographer has chosen a fixed position to snap the action in quick succession, the actual moments captured are a random guess that something significant is happening or about to happen. In some ways it doesn't matter which particular instance of time is captured, we have the luxury to review the results and to edit by selecting or discarding specific instances of Time. That editing goes on at very subtle levels, often not consciously derived, but with an instinctive perception that something significant is revealed about the whole in this particular session.  

Even as we concentrate on the visual elements, each image is a window into the moment with implications of what happened before and what is about to happen.  In video terminology it is a frame that we have chosen to isolate and its very existence defines it and gives it shape and meaning, an inadvertent relationship to the whole, and at some point might be viewed as an embodiment of the process. 

We are mistaken if we consider that the images are merely the visual representations of the moment. They are a window into time, a window for the imagination to build a context of all that is implied. The visual content contains context, but it
is also highly mysterious, evocative, and kinesthetic.  This remains true even if we have viewed the work performed or have access to a video representation.  It is possible to consider the still image as more powerful than the video record. Even the video is an edited instance of the event captured by specific lenses and camera operators.  Video is less evocative than the still image because it is controlling the our view of the context. Still images release us from the confinement of the succession of moments to focus on a particular moment where energy is compressed and imagination is challenged to create the context.
There is a natural tendency of the mind to insert meaning and context, even where none is intended.  Perhaps this is why still images are so profoundly interesting and arresting.  We seize the moment to enter into the context, to shape what we see and to make meaning, to experience a revelation that leads us to creating something new. So we celebrate these not so random moments from the camera of Dr. Yen. Embedded in these images is his years of experience capturing live moments and his countless hours of processing, where he is editing and refining each single image into an instrument for the imagination. In some ways the moments he captures are accidents, but if they are, they are happy accidents, and we are all the better for his efforts. But there is a point of view that nothing is accidental, which helps us distinguish that Dr. Yen provides a sense of excellence and meaning to the moments he has chosen to share with us.

But we also need to honor those participants creating content in time, of unraveling the essence of an idea into an iteration that is packed with so much meaning and information that we will never decipher it completely.  That is the wonder and mystery of it all, with still images providing us glimpses of that infinite continuum. Bravo to the IMPACTORS of 2011 for creating such moments of artistic discovery, and Bravo to Chianan Yen for his experience and practiced eye, and his instinctive sense of capturing the moment as it is about to happen.



A Walk on The Street of Dreams

It is so delicious to be utterly vacant. To have no thought that you should be any particular place at any particular moment...to be severed from schedules, time, and appointments...to wander freely.  So I permitted myself to wander down one of my streets of dreams... to mingle with so many walking along the street and to indulge myself in the fantasies of the past and the moment. To take snapshots of the mind and explore without any sense of accountability.

So I started toward Houston Street.  On the way, I came upon one of my favorite haunts, The Mercer Street Bookstore. It is a haven of quiet discovery. There is always something that catches my eye. On the shelves are so many possibilities that beckon like beacons.  Currently the most attractive section for me is the poetry section.  Here I discover poets with rich imagination... I stumble upon them in a much more meaningful search than Google could ever hope to deliver. I touch the covers,  leaf through pages, my eyes wandering over words and lines in random paths.


Today, as I walked into the store, sitting on a prominent display shelf was a book on American minimal music that I had never known. It was an electrifying moment of discovery.  Then I explored the books of poems and found many gems, but two caught my eye and ear right away. Celia Gilbert's voice in Bonfire was strong and sensuous with a clear sense of poetic rhythm and shaping metaphors that were inspired and insightful. I often like to read the poems aloud, and these seemed so so rich with possibilities.

In addition there was classic rough news, a profoundly erudite poetic voice of Kenneth Fields, who seemed to echo the tone and sensibility of Robert Graves. I always have loved Graves, and here I thought was a new found friend.
Both of these volumes reached out to me. I had gone in with the intention of just securing one new book to keep me occupied for an afternoon, but I left with three books. Even so, the cost for these is minimal compared to buying as new books, but they are usually mint condition, for the fate of poetry is that many poets publish, but few of us really listen to our poets. So these books have never been opened, never been read. Somehow poetry was something we learned to avoid in our classroom encounters in public school. I never understood this since so many of my high school friends "secretly" wrote poems that were expressive of the anguish that most of us go through as teenagers.


 I left with three books that are always a rich resource for my thinking and planning, for dreaming about the realities that lay ahead, for hoping to discover something of myself in these new voices, these new singers for a 21st century. How can one not succumb to the mystery of a a used bookstore, the filled shelves of books that have already taken a journey to end up on those shelves, lying like explosives ready to be ignited by the some incandescent insight triggered by the power of language.

My journey had barely begun and already so much was discovered and uncovered. I headed east on Houston Street, crossing Broadway and migrating to haunts that were once part of my younger days... most of them gone now, and most of the friends that inhabited these east village streets are gone. Crossing Mott street, the Rodgers and Hart tune of We'll Have Manhattan sounded in my head and I found myself singing "and tell me what street... compares with Mott Street..."

Not far from Mott street, on Elizabeth street, a dear friend had a serious struggle with drugs that removed her from my life for a while. We finally renewed contact and she had developed a promising career as a site specific composer... and then she disappeared and I have not heard from her again.

Crossing Chystie Street, I see the Sarah Delano Roosevelt Park which connects with Canal Street at the other end, an oasis amidst the brick and cement.  The trees are verdant green and the afternoon is punctuated by basketball players and people strolling almost aimlessly. The afternoon sun is bright, but the air is fresh and pleasant from the rainstorm the night before.

I continue east and soon I come to a poster for Another World, a film about Earth II possibly from a parallel dimension.  The film is about synchronicity and dual existences, a subject that has caught my attention and imagination.  It even figured into the idea of Creating New Worlds recently performed by 2011 IMPACTORS. As I look at the poster, I begin to realize that maybe there was a subconscious destination of the Landmark Sunshine Theatre, an Indie House that I haven't visited in a long while.  It really isn't so far away, but psychologically, across the great divide of Broadway, it seems remote and inaccessible.

I check the time and the film will start in about ten minutes, so I decide this will be a deviation from the journey.  Another World is metaphoric, for it is clear as the film begins that this is an investigation of alternative paths, of parallel lives where something creates a rift and a new possibility.  The film is focused on the narrative.  All though the film, I couldn't help wondering why such a large planet so near to us would not create extensive flooding and earthquakes, but that would be more the sci-fi element and not an examination of parallel possibilities.

The sun is starting to slant toward the western horizon as I emerge from the Sunshine Movie House.  I start back west along the the same path, now reversed, eerily aware through the movie that this route has been altered by Time.  I come upon the Puck Building, which once figured prominently in fundraising efforts for the Nordoff Robbins Music Therapy Center. It also was to be  a major asset in the plans for creating a new commuter university, The East West University of Art, Science and Culture. It was to be the second acquisition of a bold new venture in higher education, a venture of the spirit of Donghwa, the blooming and exchange between East and West.

A few yards further is the building that would be the first building acquired for the new university, a perfect location where subways converge.  The Addidas Building would lend itself to conversion with classrooms, a technology center, and the beginnings of the library. It would be the primary building that would become a first class commuting university where students would find an alternative through collaboration to the current competitive paradigm of higher education.  But it would also offer the world's best collection of Asian culture, literature, art, and science in the midst of the mecca of the West.  It would be a true meeting of East and West defined in new terms for a new era.

I found myself at the Angelika, another Indie film house.  I realized my journey of dreams  had film palaces at each end like book ends.  Not long ago, Woody Allen's Paris at Midnight opened in this theatre and helped me understand how the past erupts in the present and always colors our experience.  We all long for the greatness of times past, to be part of it. But I realized that today my journey was a mixture of past and future.
Inside the crowd was intent on the latest openings, and Paris at Midnight had no line. I could have walked right in to that showing.  But I was busy watching people and feeling the rhythm of the universe in the random collisions of people vying for position in the lobby. Over the entrance to the theatres, Angelika loomed as radiant as ever, a harbinger of dreams created with light and shadow on the screen... a dim reflection of reality like Plato's shadows in the cave in The Republic. Plato's allegory of watching the shadows in the cave has become a reality in our universe. We go into our caves and watch the shadows on the wall, more convincing and commanding than whatever we once understood as reality.
As I left the Angelika and continued toward the falling night, I passed Picasso's Bust of Sylvette as cryptic and alluring as ever.  She had sprung from the imagination of Picasso and had been rendered and enlarged, executed by Norwegian sculptor Carl Nesjär from a smaller original sculpture by Picasso. I realized that we seek to create permanence as best we can.  Stone survives the ages much better than film in canisters. Picasso's Sylvette is poised to survive wind and weather, even earthquakes. But we have outwitted the physical world through our reduction of the world to binary code. Films now exist as code transferable to various media until the end of time. Somewhere in the dreams of this afternoon's journey, reality flirts with imagination within the structure of awareness.  It is a Donghwa, a flowering of the essence of a new spirit, with new generations uncovering a world that has been waiting for us beyond our dreams.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Crises: Our Co-Existence with Dark Energy and Dark Matter

Almost everyone I know is going through some personal crisis.  And we are all aware that culturally and metaphysically we are engaged in a global crisis that has prompted visions of Mayan doom in 2012.  The basis for these crises is our perception of our lives, the universe, and experience as undergoing immense acceleration.  Newton had prophesied that everything would gradually slow down until the universe was out of energy. This was the so-called dismal law of thermodynamics.  Now the Hubble eye on the universe has detected that indeed, everything is speeding up. We also have become aware that there must be matter and energy that cannot be seen, and that this mass accounts for almost 95% of the substance of the universe (dark energy or dark matter).  It is this accelerating gravitational force that appears to be pulling the universe apart and our lives as well.  We are not immune from the force that created us.  You and I are part of the Big Bang or whatever it was that ignited conscious awareness.

Several of my friends are depressed after their great achievements and success. I know that feeling well.  I know what it is to ride the roller coaster of highs and lows as you engage in creating new work.  It is a cycle of success where the intensity of the moment is suddenly extinguished and you are left lost and empty, feeling that everyone has deserted you.  And they have.  No one can continue that intensity indefinitely. Inevitably the super nova burns out, and space is dark and empty. But the emptiness is an illusion. In riding the wave, you must inevitably pass through zero, to the silence. We all come from the silence.

In the silence is the birth of everything new. It all comes from the nothingness between the zenith and the nadir...that moment between the plus and minus, that nothingness that always precedes the "Big Bang." Probably these eruptions are continuous and infinite.  That is why we are beginning to perceive that there are parallel universes that completely redefine our concepts of dimension and time.  It is a reality that is both singular and plural. Gradually we have come to understand that what we call Space is just another word for Time.  For the moment we appear to be trapped in Time, irreversibly caught in the endless expansion whose only direction is outward or forward,  Even when we seemingly reverse directions, it is never the same space.  Einstein glimpsed the reality for a moment, but never really understood it. Perhaps that is why his attempts to unify two opposing theories failed.  Some think they have solved the riddle, shredded the Gordian Knot, since finally experts concluded it could not be untied because it wasn't really a knot.

Some imagine that the dark energy is consuming matter and storing it as dark matter.  Although Black Holes have been thought of as the creator of new stars and solar systems, they are also being studied as converters of substance into the hidden dimension of existence. Somewhere in this equation is the secret of ourselves, is the secret of conscious awareness.  Without the awareness, the universe is an empty charade.

IMPACT 2011: Creating New Worlds



 What is IMPACT?  It is an acronym for Interactive Multimedia Performing Arts Collaborative Technology that describes a workshop designed to promote collaboration and creative expression among international participants. It originated in the Steinhardt School of New York University and has now completed its fifth year.  Every year the workshop changes, grows, and develops, and IMPACT has come to mean a process of collaborative experience that is evolving. Each year the faculty, staff, and participants come away with an understanding that has built upon the past but added new layers of meaning and interaction. Most recently IMPACT has added the layer of social networking, using FaceBook as a means of communicating all aspects of the workshop as it evolves pragmatically and conceptually.

The posters above represent three planning stages for 2011. The first poster represents the collaborative and international nature of the workshop through the hands of different cultural backgrounds working together through technology, artistic expression, and multimedia to change our perceptions of the world and bring us closer together. The second stage represents a thematic process by which the participants agree upon a theme to explore for a realization on stage combining technologies and expressive artistry in collaborative production teams. Each production team took the name of a planet and the organization of each team had as its goal to establish an interdisciplinary group that worked together to develop concepts and materials that would eventually be expressed through media and stage craft. The final poster was designed by 2011 participants giving credit and reflecting on the nature of collaboration with a focus on collaborative process.

Though the description above attempts to answer the question of "What is IMPACT?" on a basic, descriptive level, it is clear that its meaning is deeper and continues to resonate long after the workshop is completed. Many new energies and visions interlocked and worked together intensely.  New personal insights came from this collaborative process, and the embryos of new ideas are still emerging and growing.  We continue to interrogate the process, because at the heart of this process is the idea of artist as researcher and collaborator. At the heart of this work is how we generate new ideas and new content. Ultimately the mentors are reciprocally mentored by the participants creating a cycle of interaction where the meaning deepens with each new coming together as collaborateurs. Activity becomes active engagement generating material through documenting the action and transforming it into various iterations across media. Documenting becomes a way of capturing process and gives meaning and structure to activity as a means of exploring and developing content.

On August 11, the participants collaborated on the "works in process" for an audience in NYU's Frederick Loewe Theatre while also streaming their work on the Internet as a live performance.The material was generated through actions designed to explore movement, images, moving images, sounds, and music using digital and stage craft techniques as well as exploring visual arts as expressive performance. Emerging was a spontaneous process of collaboration and interaction. This interactive energy enabled these young participants to engage the moment as dynamic, emergent content.

CREATING NEW WORLDS
Multimedia Works in Process


Prelude: URBAN JUNGLES
Every day, we create and recreate our environments through technology, architecture and human interaction.
FULL COMPANY

Scene 1: Inner Voice
 VENUS
       (Ji Eun Kim, Yeji Kim, Hsuanyu I, Yoo Jeong Nam)
 
Freedom is neither white nor black, but the possibility of painting our canvas of whatever color we choose. No matter our origins or upbringing, we are free to know and to experience, to mingle and to party, to expand ourselves and to forge who we really want to be.
Music and Movie: Ji Eun Kim Cello: Hsuanyu I         Dancers: Yoo Jeong Nam, Yeji Kim,

Scene 2: IMPACT around US
EARTH
(Sun-Mi Kim, Hyun Mi Jung, Chae-Won Song)

Having a trouble with artistic expression? Searching for something creative? Our video might suggest the answer for your concerns to just look around and fulfill your needs.
Music: Sun-Mi Kim, Chae-Won Song, Hyun Mi Jung     Video: Chae-Won Song
Dancers: Hyun Mi Jung, Kyung-In Kim, Su Min Jung, Seo Youn Lee, YooJeong Nam, Yeji Kim

Scene 3: Exploring Myself
JUPITER
HyeYeun Lee, Kyung-In Kim, Perla Vargas)

Where am I? I am a stranger. Everything is going different and makes me confused. But I try not to lose myself and stick with the strange path. Then I finally meet someone else familiar. Is that an alter ego?
Background Music: "Klavierwerke" & "I Mind" by James Blake
Art Directing & Video: HyeYeun Lee Choreography & Dance: Kyung-In Kim
Actors & Dancers: YooJeong Nam, Seo Youn Lee, Su Min Jung, YeJi Kim, Hyun Mi Jung, Hwan Soo Ok Lyrics & Singing: Perla Vargas

Scene 4: Birthday Girl
SATURN
(Yulimer Almonte, Eunsong Noh, YooJin Choi)

This comedy will make you laugh and have a nice time together with the birthday girl and her friends. The Birthday girl is at a restaurant to celebrate her birthday, but nothing goes out as planned. What will happen?
Video: Yulimer Almonte, Eunsong Noh Costume: YooJin Choi Music: Yulimer Almonte
Actors & Dancers: Yulimer Almonte, Eunsong Noh, Youngmi Ha, Seo Yeon Lee, Hwan Soo Ok, Youngin Ko, Heejung Nam, YooJin Choi, Mariam Chebly

Scene 5:  S.O.S. (Side-Effect Of Social-Network)

URANUS
(Kahyun Lee, Yunjin Cho, Jeemin Ha)

We can express our feelings and happenings without restriction of space by social network. However, it sometimes make people exposed to others unintendedly too much. Also people feel the sense of inferiority and isolation by watching other's privacy. "S.O.S" sheds new light on the effect of social network!
Video: Kahyun Lee, Yunjin Cho Actors: Kahyun Lee, Yunjin Cho, Jeemin Ha
Costume: Kahyun Lee, Yunjin Cho, Jeemin Ha

INTERLUDE
(YoungMi Ha, Perla Vargas, Deanna Jackson, Hsuanyu I)
Title: Pingu, Bouncy Fun
Music Making Penguins

Scene 6: A Chat with Cunningham
 GUEST ARTISTS: SPACETIME
(Chingwen Yeh, Yea-Chen Wu, Sunyoung Park)

Touching your spirit I move. Watching your work I touch. Feeling your aura surround me.
Art Direction & Video: Chingwen Yeh, Yea-Chen Wu, Sunyoung Park
Choreography & Dance: Chingwen Yeh Live Music & Composer: Sunyoung Park

Scene 7: Dream Your Reality
MARS
(Deanna Jackson, Yoo Jung Shin, Hwan Soo Ok)

Imagine, you’ re who you want to be; doing what you want to do. Believe in the impossible and explore the incredible potential. Take one step and hold on to your dream.
Performed by: Deanna Jackson, Yoo Jung Shin, Hwan Soo Ok, Jee Yun Hung, Yeji Kim, Seo Youn Lee, Su Min Jung           Music: Hwan Soo Ok        Video and Lyrics: Deanna Jackson
Scene 8: Neptune Avenue
NEPTUNE
(Ebru Yetiskin, Seo Yeon Lee, Youngin Ko)

One flees and creates a path to become a part of a different world. We will show aquarium video. Enjoy our beautiful blue scene!
Video: Ebru Yetiskin, Youngin Ko        Dancers: Seoyoun Lee, Youngin Ko, Yeji Kim, Sumin Jung, Kyung-In Kim, Hyun Mi Jung, YooJeong Nam


Scene 9: One World
MERCURY
(Whanee Choi, Su Min Jung, Mariam Chebly, Yea-Chen Wu)

The end of society as we know it has arrived. After a nuclear warfare a few survivors from different cultures take shelter in the last "Eden". How will they interact and communicate with each other?
Video: Yea-Chen Wu    Audio: Mariam Chebly, Whanee Choi      Choreography: Su Min Jung
Actors & Dancers: Perla Vargas, Deana Jackson, Yulimer Almonte, Mariam Chebly, Whanee Choi, Su Min Jung, Sharon I, Hyun Mi Jung, Kyung-In Kim, Yeji Kim, Seo Yeon Lee, YooJeong Nam, Yoo Jung Shin, Hwan Soo Ok, Jeemin Ha, Kahyun Lee    
Music: Mozart Requiem Lacrimosa          Original Music : Mariam Chebly, Whanee Choi

BOWS
FULL COMPANY


IMPACT 2011 Faculty, Staff, Guest Artists

Dr. John V. Gilbert, Director
Dr. Youngmi Ha, Music Director
Tom Beyer, Tech Director
Dr. Chianan Yen, Digital Imaging & Photography Director
Julie Song, Administrative Director
Dr. Carleton Palmer, Visual Arts Director
Jee Yun Hong, Dance Director
Kevin Pease, Theatre & Stage Director
Joellen Dolan, Assistant Tech Director
Yea-Chen Wu, Lighting Designer
Sunmin Kim, Stage Manager, Researcher
Nicholas Marchese, Tech Assistant
Yeejung Nam, Production and Administrative Assistant
Dr. Chingwen Yeh, Impact Guest Artist, Educator
Ebru Yetiskin, Guest Researcher In Sociology & Media
Sunyoung Park, Guest Artist