From the Roaring ’20s art schools to the doldrums of the Great Depression to the horrors of World War II to the unabashed colors of the ’50s, Yasuo Kuniyoshi charted American culture in rapidly changing art with myriad influences.

A new exhibition on the 20th century Japanese-American modernist’s work opened April 3 at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. Curated by Tom Wolf, an art history professor at Bard College and museum deputy chief curator Joann Moser, the exhibit chronicles Kuniyoshi’s changing work from 1918 to 1953, the first such U.S. retrospective in more than 65 years, according to a museum press release.

Born in Japan, Kuniyoshi emigrated in his teenage years and would “become one of America’s most esteemed artists in America between the two world wars.” In his lifetime, Kuniyoshi was exhibited alongside Georgia O’Keefe, Edward Hopper and Frank Stella, among others, said the press release.

His ethnicity caused numerous difficulties during his life, most pressingly during World War II, when the U.S. government persecuted Japanese-Americans while the U.S. fought Japan.

Kuniyoshi escaped persecution by creating jarring propaganda posters for the U.S. government, but the detachment brought about by his race and nationality deeply affected his art.

According to an exhibition placard, “the artist enjoyed playing golf, [but,] owing to his nationality, he could not join a country club.” Instead, he played as a friend’s guest.

This divide is apparent in “Self Portrait as a Golf Player” where Kuniyoshi stands in “the traditional stance of a samurai,” according to the placard. His sword is replaced with a golf club and his kimono a sweater vest.

Kuniyoshi’s style is ostensibly American and his subjects are almost universally Western, from pastoral Maine boats and homes to Judeo-Christian theology.

Kuniyoshi spent time in Ogunquit, Maine, and the region comes through on canvas.

In “The Swimmer,” a woman swims, larger than life, around a quintessential island lighthouse.

For religious work, “Adam and Eve” comes to the forefront, as does “The Twist Loaf,” which appears to show a hunk of Jewish challah bread.

While the subjects may be particularly American, they are inspired by his childhood in Japan.

Angular caricatured cows like the one in “Little Joe With Cow” are a common trope in Kuniyoshi’s work because he was born in the Japanese lunar calendar’s year of the cow or ox, according to an exhibition placard.

In his early inkwork, the Japanese influence is much more apparent through the art’s subtlety and deliberateness of stroke. “Lady Slipper” is a quiet masterwork: the only color in the black inkwork is a deeply-veined, warmly gilded orchid flower reminiscent in shape of the human heart.

In later works, though, the black ink comes to all but dominate the paper.

Instead of meditative subtlety, works are aggravated, dark and of strongly macabre subjects: a dead fish’s head, a dying tree with a crow and an oversized insect.

This is symbolic of a shift that occurs as Kuniyoshi’s work enters the Great Depression and heavily at the start of World War II, a deeply traumatic time for the artist.

The women he depicted – until this point well fed and rather smiley – take an ominous turn with shaded eyes, melancholy faces and cigarettes. Where some had previously exposed their breasts in a nonchalant manner, they came to do so dejectedly with resignation.

They are gaunt in post-war works, walking among ruins or sobbing on a daughter’s shoulder. The beaches are no longer pastoral Maine sand strips, but litter-peppered patches of death.

“Between Two Worlds” brings the whole landscape into the sadness.

It is now messy, litter strewn everywhere. Men and women are hanged, murdered, bayoneted, whipped and tortured with “The Water Cure” – an early form of waterboarding. The art, like the world and the artist’s soul, was at war.

“Throughout the War and immediate aftermath, he was wary of showing any sympathy for the Japanese people or the Japanese internees in the U.S. for fear his patriotism might be questioned,” according to an exhibition placard.

“Somebody Tore My Poster” brings everything he had done thus far to a head. His smoking, submissive woman stands in front of a ripped war poster depicting the French struggle in World War II and revisiting a circus image, an early theme of Kuniyoshi’s art.

The circus theme, in earlier years was reserved in color and reminiscent of Fernando Botero and Diego Rivera, is colorful and abstract in the fifties, a confusing departure evident of a conflicted man with a crisis of life direction. “This Is My Playground” shows Kuniyoshi’s artistic mind utterly scattered.

“The Artistic Journey of Yasuo Kuniyoshi” is on view at the Smithsonian American Art Museum until August 30.

Evan Berkowitz is a freshman journalism major and can be reached at evanjberkowitz@gmail.com.

To American abstract portraitist Elaine de Kooning, John F. Kennedy sometimes radiated warmth and tones of deep, genial orange. At other times, he radiated fleeting emerald and yellow in a mass of movements that bespeak an energetic, restless man.

Working from sketches drawn during sessions with Kennedy before his death, de Kooning told LIFE magazine she “produced hundreds of sketches and 23 finished paintings” of the president.

Nine of those Kennedy paintings and drawings are on view, along with 57 other de Kooning works, in a new exhibition, which opened March 13, at the National Portrait Gallery.

The sketches and paintings of Kennedy are perhaps the most recognizable works on view. Her work includes basic sketches of Kennedy’s facial features, the final orange-radiating portrait that went to the Harry S. Truman Library and the emerald one that hangs in the Portrait Gallery among other presidents’ portraits.

And while the subject of the Kennedy portraits may be markedly special, the process of creating the portraits throughout is similar be it for a person as stately as the president or a common individual.

The other portraits, of everyone from de Kooning herself to her husband and friends to the president, are exercises in color and form from a woman who truly understood how to use them both.

Close up, the pieces may be a jumble of brushstrokes in seemingly random hues, but from a few steps back they take shape: here is a man, here is his suit jacket, here is the elaborate leg of his chair.

“Elaine de Kooning was one of the American artists who helped advance the reputation of American art in the mid-20th century as innovative, brash and highly individualistic,” gallery director Kim Sajet said in a museum news release.

Notably, de Kooning’s husband Willem de Kooning, a fellow abstract expressionist, significantly influenced her color palette and hurried style.

Within her specific expressionism, facial expressions are absent: in some cases vague, in others brushed over entirely.

If the face, in traditional portraiture, is the expression of mind, soul and emotion, it is not so in de Kooning’s work. She either chose not to or had trouble conveying faces, most interestingly producing a nearly-faceless image of her husband, Willem.

But the expression is still there in the aura she conveys through the colors of the portrait.

“As a portraitist working in the gestural Abstract-Expressionist mode, [de Kooning] never abandoned working with the figure but ensured that a person’s likeness was linked to their innate vitality and spirit,” Sajet said in the release.

The details arrive later.

Amusingly, de Kooning used a portrait of art critic Thomas Hess as a model for some of the Kennedy portraits because de Kooning hadn’t sketched in a jacket, according to exhibition wall text.

One of the most viewer-friendly aspects of the exhibition is a scheduled loop of three short films about de Kooning. Some portray de Kooning in the act of painting a portrait – she was famously quick, usually finishing a life-size portrait in one sitting – which is wondrous to behold. The films are available to view online in English and Spanish.

Another crowdpleaser on view is a portrait of Brazilian soccer star Pelé.

“This exhibition is a perfect opportunity to present our collection and [de Kooning’s] modernist spirit,” Sajet said in the release.

The de Kooning exhibit, curated by Brandon Brame Fortune, runs in the National Portrait Gallery through Jan. 10, 2016.

Evan Berkowitz is a freshman journalism major and can be reached at evanjberkowitz@gmail.com.

Editor’s Note: This article contains mild profanity.

10:45 a.m.

I’ve never seen so many people at Regents Drive bus stop, let alone so many people on campus before 1 on a Saturday afternoon. Everybody dressed to accommodate the Maryland heat: dresses, strappy sandals and muscle tees.

“Be cutthroat,” my roommate Emilie whispered to me when the 104 Metro Bus pulled up.

We secured seats on the bus while our slower, less cutthroat peers were forced to stand. Body odor and sunscreen battled for the strongest scent as we rode toward the College Park Metro Station.

11:15 a.m.

The line to purchase farecards extended all the way to the station’s entrance, making it hard for people to get in. Emilie and I, fortunate enough to already have loaded farecards, skipped the line and went up to the platform.

Again, too many people crowded one space. I thought of the scene from The Office where Dwight says we need a new plague.

Our cutthroat abilities landed us seats again, and the Metro shot off toward Washington, D.C.

“That’s a story,” Emilie said, looking away from the window to complete a private train of thought aloud. “One time I came home from a concert with half a necklace and two left shoes.”

She never told the story.

12:00 p.m.

A surprisingly short amount of time later, Emilie and I found ourselves at the entrance to the concert: a big white tent with a mob of people in front of it.

While in line to have our bags checked, a man behind us said, “Do you hear Usher? He’s performing right now.”

Personally, I could not hear anything. But if Usher was performing for free just on the other side of a maze of barricades, I was not going to miss it.

“Haul ass,” Emilie said urgently.

We climbed over a gate to avoid the tedious maze, rounded the Monument and found a huge stage and a couple thousand people.

Usher was nowhere to be seen.

12:15 p.m.

Sitting on a hill in the shade of the Monument, I had a cool view of D.C. To my right was the top of the Capitol Building; to my left the skyline peaked out from over the tops of trees; and directly in front of me were a couple thousand sweaty people, a huge stage and a line of porta-potties that stretched two blocks long.

“How is this concert eight hours long?” Emilie asked me. I shrugged.

Families and couples sprawled out on the grass all around us. A colorful array of blankets and towels saved people from the damp grass. Emilie and I had not been smart enough to think that far ahead.

Australia’s 26th prime minister took the stage. He talked about the importance of protecting the environment and the crowd cheered wildly at the end of each sentence.

“That’s how,” Emilie mumbled.

12:30 p.m.

While the breeze and shade kept us cool, the trek to the concert was scorching. When the first act went on – an hour and a half into the event – Emilie and I went a quest for overpriced water bottles.

Roy Kim, the South Korean artist neither of us had ever heard of, sang nicely, but the screams from the audience made me feel like I was at a One Direction concert – not that I know what that feels like.

After purchasing our $3 water bottles, we made our way back to the shade when a woman holding green wristbands stopped us.

“Do you like Fall Out Boy?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered too quickly, while Emilie asked if that was the band with Pete Wentz.

The woman handed us two of the wristbands and told us to go to the Meeting Point at 1:40 for Fall Out Boy’s meet-and-greet.

“Your hands are shaking,” Emilie informed me. 

1:50 p.m.

A public relations official said a professional photographer would be taking our pictures with the band and we weren’t allowed to use personal cameras, which means my Instagram picture is delayed until the official photograph is emailed to me.

While we waited for an hour, Train played their set and Emilie and I serenaded each other to “Drops of Jupiter.”

“Joe is my sun and my moon and my stars,” said the middle-school-aged girl in front of me wearing a shirt that warned everyone she has more issues than Vogue.

For the uninformed, Joe Trohman plays guitar in Fall Out Boy.

The term “meet-and-greet” was very misleading in this case. I was in Fall Out Boy’s presence long enough to stand between Pete and Patrick, get my picture taken and be ushered away by the staff.

However, it was still long enough for my middle school years to flash before my eyes.

2:45 p.m.

All of the shade vanished and the sun shone brightly. I felt myself getting a sunburn, despite my half-hearted attempt of spraying myself down with suntan lotion before I left my apartment four hours prior.

Mary J. Blige took the stage, receiving the most energetic reaction of the day.

“I can get into anything with a beat,” Emilie said, bobbing her head completely off-rhythm.

A girl wearing a shirt that read “on Wednesdays we wear black” walked past. I wondered if she knew it was Saturday.

3:25 p.m.

We found a spot with an unobstructed view of the stage and sat down to wait for Fall Out Boy.

The presenters tricked the audience multiple times, announcing a pianist or famous actor instead of Fall Out Boy, which drew audible groans from the crowd.

However, when Fall Out Boy took the stage, everyone got to their feet.

With performers like Train and Usher, it surprised me how many people seemed to be there for Fall Out Boy. The crowd was deafening singing the lyrics, and I lost my voice during the set.

Emilie knew the words to ‘Light ‘Em Up,’ which easily made my day.

“I know this one!” she said excitedly, her face lighting up when the song came on.

When the set ended, Emilie and I deemed ourselves too sunburnt to stay any longer. Most people seemed to have the same idea, as a crowd with varying degrees of sunburn filed toward the exit.

So, Fall Out Boy, thanks for the memories. Until next time.

Maya Pottiger is a sophomore journalism major and can be reached at mayabee777@aim.com.

“Facebook is a lousy mortician, trying to make us all look more alive” said Andrea Gibson, standing on the stage at the Sixth & I Synagogue Thursday night.

The audience members laughed, wept, cooed and snapped their fingers as Gibson delivered each spoken word poem. Usually the poem would lure in the audience’s and gain its trust with humor then expose stories of suicide and depression.

Gibson is small, but her stature seems inversely proportional to the amount of passion in her words. She wore a black scarf made out of part of the baby sling she uses for her dog.

Gibson expands her activism beyond poetry, she is a co-founder of Stay Here With Me, an initiative to raise suicide awareness and provide a community for those to come together and know that they are not alone. The website explores music and personal stories about coping with depression and suicide.

One poem stood out from the rest. It did not start off with an anecdote about mooning a lover in the grocery store, it got straight to the point. She wrote it to her best friend.

“This year has been the hardest year of your whole life,” she said, discussing what it feels like to feel unsafe everywhere.

She is the author of Pole Dancing To Gospel Hymns, Trees that Grow in Cemeteries, Yellow Bird, What the Yarn Knows of Sweaters, Pole Dancing to Gospel Hymns and Pansy.

Gibson gutted her truths onstage and displayed them for the audience to see. There were about 500 leaning forward in their pews, drinking in each word.

I have never seen so many girls with dreadlocks and men with hipster haircuts in one room together. There was something both ironic and fitting about the fact that the performance was in a holy place.

She explained to us through her poem A Letter to My Dog Exploring the Human Condition that her dog is saving the world every time he gets poo stuck in his butt hair and doesn’t go looking for someone to blame. She said that it is her favorite love poem that she has written in her entire life.

She mixed some poems with music, which was played on piano and guitar by musician Kaylen Krebsbach.

Sometimes Gibson would become overcome by everything that she felt. Once, while giving an introduction she almost forgot to say the poem. “I want to say more, but I’m not going to.” she said and turned around.  She walked back to the microphone and grabbed at her scarf before she began to speak.

“We’re in the feel too much club together, I fucking love it,” she proclaimed, while exploring panic attacks and suicide.

Gibson maintained good humor throughout. Her poems both celebrated and made fun of the intensity of life.

As the performance neared its end, Gibson humbly explored her privilege in having a microphone.

“I have a responsibility as an artist and as a human being that I have not lived up to,” she said, as she mourned the fact that most of her poems about LGBTQA+ community members involve white males.

One of her last poems was almost an apology for this, it began with: “It should never be the responsibility of people of color to educate white people about white supremacy.”

It is called A Letter to White Queers, A Letter to Myself.

Her poems were a battle cry for not only the LGBTQA+ community, but also for black and minority groups as well.

It seemed everyone was either highly uncomfortable, or crying. Gibson said her goal for the evening was to comfort the disturbed and to disturb the comfortable.

By the audience’s reactions, it seemed she had done that.

The performance closed somewhat abruptly, concluding with her poem Jellyfish, in which Gibson described the importance of staying and of feeling wholly. In order to do this, she used the metaphor of the Grand Canyon.

Gibson is unique, because instead of trying to please her audience,  she seemed to attempt to make them feel whatever it was they needed to feel.

Her poems were a call to be educated about one’s own privilege, whether that be race or simply peace of mind.

For Gibson, the stage seemed to be a safe place. She could talk to an accepting audience about being gay, having panic attacks and flashing her lover in the grocery store. She seemed to embrace everything, saying to the audience: “Just be good to yourself.”

One could have gotten up, screamed and cried, or run out.

But no one did –  the space seemed so inclusive it would have likely been acceptable to do so.

Raye Weigel is a freshman English and community health double major and can be reached at rayanneweigel@gmail.com.

Editor’s Note: All photos are courtesy of The Global Poverty Project and Earth Day Network. Global Citizen 2015 Earth Day’s PR team allowed The Bloc to publish the following photos. 

Global Citizen 2015 Earth Day, held Saturday on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., invited actors, policymakers, finance ministers, environment and development NGOs, industry executives, and musicians, to create a compilation of entertainment and advocacy for the environment.

Officials from Earth Day Network and The Global Poverty Project hosted the venue and more than 250,000 attended.

Editor-in-Chief Iman Naima Smith contributed to this photo essay. 

The nature of photography – as a science, a mode of communication, as an artistic medium – is at the center of many discussions about the history of art.

It’s relatively replicable nature along with its technological implications raises questions about how we constitute artmaking and what we consider art, from early daguerreotypes, an early type of photograph, to Instagram posts.

The exhibit, “In the Light of the Past,” which is on display at the National Gallery, showcases the works collected in the 25 years since the NGA began actively collecting photography.

In 1949, artist Georgia O’Keefe and the estate of Alfred Stieglitz donated the “key set” of Stieglitz’s photographs, according to a news release.

Later, the NGA received photographic works by Ansel Adams and Walker Evans en masse. In 1990, the gallery founded its department of photographs and has been actively collecting the medium for 25 years.

The exhibition, co-curated by Sarah Greenough,current head of the photography department, and Diane Waggoner, features 175 works spanning from the earliest forms of photographs to some of the most current work in the medium.

In Light of The Past

Early photographers experimented with photography in its true form. Early wall text asks, “Was photography best understood as an art or a science?”

“What subjects should photographs depict, which purpose should they serve, and what should they look like?” the text said.

Some are sharp – the recognizably deliberate, contrast-heavy contours of albumen prints – from the patterns of a decorative vase to the reflection on a grape to the curves of a woman’s bottom.

Other works are not as crisp. Some deliberately, as in the case of 1860s British works, others are simply consequences of the medium, as with daguerreotypes, an early type of photograph printed on a metal plate.

The early urban scenes are startlingly empty – from early views of central Paris to the train station at Toulon. The reasoning for this is twofold. First, some of the photos were meticulously staged and prepared to be empty. Second, early cameras could not capture images of fast-moving human beings. In Gustav Le Gray’s “The Pont Du Carrousel, Paris…,” shadowy forms of moving humans are just barely visible.

The early landscape photos of an ever-expanding American West show artists on three frontiers: artistic, geographic and technical. Platt Babbitt’s ambrotype “Niagara Falls” presents a photographic angle on the natural wonder painted in Frederic Edwin Church’s enormous landscape “Niagara,”a painting on view at the NGA until very recently as part of “American Masterworks at the Corcoran.”

At this point historically, American artists led by Stieglitz strove to establish photography as a fine art. One such example, Frederick Evans’s exquisite “York Master, North Transept…” was on view at the NGA last year as part of “A Subtle Beauty: Platinum Photographs from the Collection.” It is surely worth of the double limelight.

Edward Steichen’s “Rodin” truly blends photography and fine art. It is a portrait of the great French sculptor famous for “The Thinker” and more.

Eventually, modernity begins to creep through: there’s Georgia O’Keefe’s thimbled fingers; there’s an American cityscape; there’s a snowy gaslit park; there’s what appears to be the Queensboro Bridge. There’s the famous gelatin silver print of a mill girl child laborer in a North Pownall, Vt., cotton mill captured by sociologist-turned-photographer Lewis Hine.

The  Fort Peck Dam by Margaret Bourke-White was immortalized on the front cover of Life Magazine’s very first issue on Nov. 23, 1936. The photo represents another convergence between photography and journalism.

The photos of the Eiffel Tower and Berlin’s Radio Tower are geometric and modern. An untitled work by Marianne Brandt blends the avant-garde with the dated. The smoke of a city, a chained-up businessman, a seductive 1920s flapper, the plain dignity of a female factory worker, the contrails of formation-flying biplanes, a high tension power line and a pair of floating zeppelins combine in a cacophonous collage that, in totality, is coming out of a man’s lit puffing cigar. The wall of visual information perplexes and excites.

A circa 1938 work by György Kepes shows a face overlaid with a peacock feather on one eye and a red gouache leaf skeleton on the other.

Walker Evans, chronicler of the Great Depression, captures pure Americana in a photo of overlapping Beaufort, S.C., signs announcing “Art School,” “Fish Co.,” “Public Stenographer” and “General Lafayette Spoke From This Porch – 1824.”

In the postwar era, extravagance takes the cake – fancy dresses, jewelry, tiaras, lit up boulevards and expensive children’s toys. Robert Frank’s 1955 photo “Trolley – New Orleans” illustrates America’s racial divide: a small white child is holding his hand to the small wooden bar, installed on a seatback with brass pegs, that separated the white riders’ section from the section for people of color.

When the medium became more accessible, the composition and subject became the focus. In Irving Penn’s “Ballet Society, New York…,” a trio of stern-faced men sit on the ground in suits as a dazzling young woman clad in a sheer, draped grey toga and silk-leaf crown stands at the rear of a right-angle room corner starting back at visitors.

In the most modern works, the works often trick the eyes. Mel Bochner’s “Convex Perspective” creates the jarring optical illusion in which fuzzy grey dots appear at the juncture of black square forms on a white field.

“In Light of the Past: Celebrating 25 Years of Photography at the National Gallery of Art” runs until July 26.

Evan Berkowitz is a freshman journalism major and can be reached at evanjberkowitz@gmail.com.

A new exhibition of metalpoint artwork at the National Gallery is subtitled “Leonardo [Da Vinci] to Jasper Johns.” Admittedly, two out of three Da Vinci paintings on view are lackluster and the sole Johns offering leaves much to be desired.

These big names are most likely there to draw visitors in but once museumgoers get a look at what’s inside, the need for flashiness dissolves. If you did still need it, there are satisfying works by Raphael, Sandro Botticelli and Rembrandt Van Rijn among others.

The exhibition, “Drawing In Silver and Gold: Leonardo to Jasper Johns,” opened May 3 at the National Gallery and chronicles the history of metalpoint artwork.This technique uses “a metal stylus on a specially prepared surface,” according to a news release. “As the stylus travels across this slightly abrasive ground, it leaves behind a small amount of metal, creating a shimmering line,” the release said.

The most common metal used was silver and the silverpoint drawings have faded slightly in the centuries since their creation, turning a brownish color. The goldpoint on view, conversely, has remained much more striking – mainly because gold does not tarnish, a documentary film that accompanies the exhibition explained.

“Artists since the Renaissance have used metalpoint to create some of the most magnificent and technically accomplished drawings in the history of art,” gallery director Earl Powell III said in the news release.

The works on view range from the early Dutch, German and Italian practitioners of the craft, who used it mainly to create studies for larger works. The late Dutch revolutionized the technical aspect for more detail and ease of use,  and the Victorian-age British artists   picked metalpoint up again for completed works and the contemporary American artists  took it into the realm of modernism.

“Viewing the technique of metalpoint in this broad context provides a unique opportunity to recognize patterns in drawing practices and affords a striking demonstration of the versatility of the medium,” Stacey Sell, co-curator of the exhibition said in the release.

Albrecht Durer’s “The Cathedral at Aachen” from 1520 is so faded that it has a mystical quality, recalling an artistic time nearly as long gone to us as Charlemagne’s capital in that city was to him. Hans Baldung’s “Landscape With Two Views of Castles in Alsace” is similarly hazy; here in part tinted with watercolor, possibly by a later hand, according to exhibition wall text.

The highlight-negotiated musculature in Durer’s “A Dog Resting” is phenomenal as is the hurried silverpoint that suggests fur. In “Head of A Woman,” Durer uses a pigment wash, white paint and possibly chalk; the highlights formed, like those of Italian metalpoint artists, give a Roman quality to his work, which is solid and reflective, resembling marble.

A silverpoint from the workshop of Roger Van Der Weyden recreates a painted altarpiece portrait of St. Mary Magdalene,whichVan Der Weyden himself created for a triptych commissioned by the Braque family. “The Death of the Virgin,” a ghostly silverpoint done by an unknown artist using on the pale-green paper that typified Dutch metalpoint circa 1400, shows the shrouded Mary rising to heaven.

This tinted paper technique was used by 16th century Italian painters as well. Some on view include Fra Fillipo Lippi, Leonardo Da Vinci, Sandro Botticelli and Raphael. Some of the works resemble British Wedgwood pottery in their coloration and contrast.

Two intriguing works in the center of the Italian room stitch together numerous artists’ metalpoints in a collage exploration of the craft.

In the 1550s, the Dutch and Flemish created ridiculously fine detail in metalpoint by utilizing new techniques and materials. Two out of the three known metalpoints by Rembrandt Van Rijn are on view in “Drawing…,” one a double sided sketch of thatched cottages and human head studies, the other a quick landscape of a Netherlandic canal. As one visitor bemoaned, Rembrandt’s most complete silverpoint “The Artist’s Bride of Three Days” is not present.

Victorian metalpoint – done mainly by British artists emulating some of the Italian masters on view earlier in the exhibition – took a new degree of modernity, subtlety and elegance to the medium.

In Andrew MacCallum’s “Finest of Scots Firs,” the perfect silverpoint that captures the morning sun as it caresses leaves and trunks by casting ghostly shadows and inspired highlights reveal why this work is in the personal collection of H.M. Elizabeth II, according to exhibition wall text.

Joseph Southall’s 1899 “Head of A Girl” – like an updated version of Durer’s “Head of A Woman” – portrays a more modern damsel with a contemporary shirt neckline, wavy hair and even bangs.

Modern metalpoint focuses on the medium’s dependance on lines and patterns, such as John Storrs’s “Woman With Her Hand on Her Chin,” which, with outline only, merely suggests form. Jasper Johns’s untitled 1984 work on view presents a white vase casting a shadow on a geometric background.

“Strata #2,” a 1998 work by Susan Schwalb uses various types of metal in horizontal lines, truly experimenting with the nature of metalpoint itself with surprisingly aesthetically pleasing results.

“Drawing in Silver and Gold: Leonardo to Jasper Johns” runs at the National Gallery of Art until July 26.

Evan Berkowitz is a freshman journalism major and can be reached at evanjberkowitz@gmail.com.

She had tall hair, and blood dribbling down her neck like sweat.

She wandered around the room, ghostlike, covering her face with a masquerade mask. Removing the mask, chunks of flesh could be seen falling away from the area about her eyes.

Winnie Hartman-Gross is a self-taught makeup artist who runs A Winning Blush, a business of her own, where customers can hire her for a variety of occasions. She also works with actors in television, film and theatre.

At RAW: natural born artists, her zombie-faced models waded through approximately 600 individuals in Howard Theatre Wednesday evening.

The guests came to see her work, along with the creations of more than 50 local independent artists. RAW specifically chooses artists from all walks of life to participate in various international venues. The organization strives to showcases a diverse group of creatives while also helping to educate the public about art awareness.  

One of the featured painters, Roger James, said RAW is unique because it not only showcases visual art, but other mediums as well, including music, fashion and makeup.

AnaYelsi Sanchez

“Is it weird that it turns me on to think of your brown skin against my white skin?”

“I used to sleep with this Mexican woman but she was educated.”

“You’ve got the best of both worlds – big tits and Asian.”

AnaYelsi Sanchez reached out to women of color as well as ethnic genderqueer and non-binary individuals of color who present as women.

Her goal was to collect offensive phrases directed at them during a romantic encounter. She then used use them as a backdrop for one of her paintings.  

“It’s not a pretty piece,” Sanchez said. “The things written on it are not pretty statements, but it’s probably one of the pieces I’m most passionate about,” she said.

Through her work Sanchez explores social justice issues she feels strongly about, such as decolonization, racial justice and reconciliation. Additionally, she tackles gender and sexuality minorities in the Church.  

“Little Mulatto Curly Sue” is a piece named after a comment she received from a stranger. “As a woman of color, you encounter a really weird combination of racism and misogyny,” Sanchez said.

Sanchez also  works with The Reformation Project, a grassroots LGBTQ organization,and is a founder of www.browneyedamazon.com, an online community that explores Latinx feminism in the context of mainstream feminism.

Justin R. Canja

Justin Canja doesn’t paint because he wants to; he does so because he has to. He finds ties throughout history to the present and expresses his philosophy that nothing is new and everything  we do has been done or created before.

“[I was] a kid who was interested in art, but always afraid to do it,” Canja said.  “If you’re a guy in second grade and you’re painting flowers versus kids or people killing each other with swords, you kind of get looked at differently.”

Canja explained it took him a long time to accept who he was, but now he calls art “his love”. “If I didn’t do art, I would probably go insane,” he said, while bouncing on his toes.

He said there is no such thing as an original because history repeats itself. He expresses this through each piece by finding old magazines and incorporating the clippings into portraits.

Kayon Cox

Cox got her first watercolor set when she was 6 years old. She describes art as both her escape and her voice.

“I think RAW helps you to get exposed to an audience that you wouldn’t necessarily just meet on any given day,” Cox said.

When she was younger, she would only work with black and white, but as she evolved both as an artist and human being, she slowly began to incorporate color.

Her pieces now stand out in the room for their vibrancy. “I can tell you painted it,” she said, referencing what others have told her in the past. “Because it has every single color in it.”

She used to paint constantly, but was not confident about art. She would store all of her works in her mother’s basement.

Upon inspection, it appears her works explore her sense of self.

“I am my love before I am anyone else’s,” she said while describing a piece.

Another painting was based on one of Cox’s past relationships.

It is titled “I Play Myself.”

The painting features a  woman’s body, which represents being in an unhealthy relationship and overcoming it.

“Every single piece I have has something about me in it,” Cox explained.

For a time Cox did not display her work, in spite of her family’s encouragement. Whenever one of them asked why she didn’t exhibit her work she would respond, “because I painted for me.”

***

Other artists featured at the venue were  Preet Mandavia and Tyrone Singletary. Mandavia raises money with his photographs and uses the funds to hand out sandwiches to the homeless community in Washington, D.C.

Tyrone from Alchemist Photography stole a camera from his sister in the 1990s. In his words, it was a “big old brick digital camera … about two megapixels.”

Now he enjoys photographing nature and often finds himself waiting patiently for the perfect shot, blending patience and serendipity.

By the end of the evening, it appeared the vast array of onlookers walked away with a more broad sense of reality and a greater appreciation of unique artistic styles.

Featured Photo Credit: Stephanie Quin, an inventive hair stylist, distributes information and haircare products. (Julia Lerner/Bloc Reporter)

Julia Lerner is a freshman multiplatform journalism major and may be reached at julia.lerner.96@gmail.com. 

Raye Weigel is a sophomore multiplatform journalism and English major and may be reached at rayanneweigel@gmail.com. 

It was an unusual sight for an internationally acclaimed theater that hosted performers such as Great Britain’s Royal Ballet and plays like The Book of Mormon.

Instead of coat tails and dresses, the patrons who crowded the Front Plaza of The Kennedy Center wore Vans, helmets and torn denim jeans.

They weren’t there to see a show.

They were there to skate.

Skateboarders raced on their boards to the iconic theater to participate in Finding a Line: Skateboarding, Music and Media, a two-week long skateboarding expo, put together by The Kennedy Center’s artistic director for jazz Jason Moran and festival curator Ben Ashworth, that explores the relationship between the improvisational natures of skateboarding and music.

“We used to get kicked out of here in the late eighties, early nineties, trying to skate out here,” recounted 43-year-old Jimmy Pelletier, one of the festival’s coordinators. “So it’s funny to come back legally on top of water fountains, on a rock stage,  with a bowl inside and unify the whole city and surrounding areas with skateboarding.”

A skate park, complete with an enormous skate bowl, rails, grind boxes, a half pipe and a wide open street-skating area, filled the usually empty space before the Hall of Nations. And it wasn’t just the youth who were taking advantage of the prestigious theater grounds, participants of all ages crowded the edge of the bowl waiting for their turn to drop in.

“This is awesome!” said Rob Fall, a 27-year-old skateboarder. “When ever would you have a chance to be at The Kennedy Center skateboarding, you know?”

Fall said his favorite part of the festival, besides high-fiving his friends, was responding to the live music.

“When the music’s playing that’s when I think skating’s the best,” said Fall. “To be honest, when the music’s going that’s when people are skating harder, going faster–less cares are involved then.”

Musical performances at the festival featured artists ranging from punk rock bands, such as Loud Boyz, to hip-hop deejays such as KERIMtheDJ. Moran, the artistic director for jazz at The Kennedy Center, and his band The Bandwagon, will perform at the festival Sept. 11 and 12.

Young skateboarders at the event weren’t intimidated by shredding in the same bowl as skaters who were nearly five times their age.

“It takes you away,” said 11-year-old local skateboarder Trent Jet. “When skateboarding hurts you, it makes you tougher.

Jet’s friend, 12-year-old Cordell Green, who is a member of Pelletier’s DC-based philanthropic skateboarding group The DC Wheels, said this event was a unique opportunity to do something he’d normally never get to do.

“When do you ever get to build a bowl in front of The Kennedy Center and skate it and not be kicked out?” Cordell said. “That’s just rare.”

Following the festival’s conclusion, Pelletier said all of the infrastructure will possibly be donated to Dupont Underground, an emerging art exhibit that is repurposing the abandoned trolley station beneath Dupont Circle. He said this would be a great opportunity to give DC its first indoor skate park, something he believes is much needed by the local skateboarding community.

According to some skateboarders, though, the artistic venue isn’t necessary for their craft. It’s simply the act itself that is artistic.

“I think of skateboarding as an art, and each one who rides around is an artist,” said 11-year-old Jonathan Snede, a D.C. skateboarder. “And when they do their tricks, that’s their art.”

Finding a Line will be taking place everyday at various times on the Front Plaza of The Kennedy Center until Sept. 13.

Feature Photo Credit: Josh Loock, Bloc Reporter.

Josh Loock is a senior broadcast journalism and film studies major and can be reached at popozao.josh@gmail.com.

Ryan Eskalis is a senior broadcast journalism major and can be reached at ryan.eskalis@gmail.com.

With the U.S. debut of Lucy Kirkwood’s unsettlingly insightful and misleading play Chimerica, Studio Theatre’s 2015-2016 season began with an excited yet disoriented flash.

Literally.

The sounds of a camera’s snapping photos launches the show, as disjointed segments of a single photograph are streamed onto the stage in a series of boxes that eventually complete a whole.

A grey square in the background of the screen.

A white globe to the bottom right.

Brown and green squares in the foreground.

A red smudge in the bottom left corner.

Can you picture the iconic photo?

Now picture a man in a white shirt carrying grocery bags, standing up to the Communist Party before tanks on June 4, 1989.  

The street that fills the background is grey.

The streetlights in the bottom right are white globes.  The tanks are brown and green, and red smudges litter the street. This image of Tiananmen Square, revealed piece-by-piece, leaves the audience confused until the absolute last moment, when the whole image is exposed.

The entirety of the production follows this same structure: things can often be as they appear, but also may not be easily categorizable.

Through its focus on the idea of the many machines that govern our lives—literal machines like cars or figurative machines surrounding politicians—Chimerica forces audience members to reevaluate how we view these related concepts through the eyes of characters: photojournalist Joe Schofield and categorist Tessa Kendrick.

Artistic Director David Muse framed the play, stating it “presents individuals caught up in a giant machine.” This is true even on the most superficial level. The stage is virtually a machine, with moving parts and images. The idea of “the machine” is consistently present throughout the production, inspiring questions about our own autonomy.

It becomes incredibly easy to imagine a future in which high school students search for and attach meaning to every use of the word “machine” in Chimerica, as they currently do for the word “weight” in the American theatrical mainstay, The Crucible.

Photojournlist Joe constantly wears his camera, the machine of his trade around his neck, while shirking cars and other machinery. Other characters are intensely involved in political machines, namely the machine of the Communist Party in China.

While the future of the play in American theaters is incredibly bright, it is also exceptionally timely. If plays at Studio “reflect the contemporary world,” this production is a crystal clear mirror. Joe points his camera toward the audience, turning the public’s questions back on themselves.  

Studio Theatre has been forward about how Chimerica is “one of the most ambitious projects” they have ever done, particularly in technical complexity.  

Be that as it may, the degree of seamlessness and minute detail prove successful in this production. Every piece of paper ever used as a prop has actual material on it. One such paper has a full graph on it, demonstrating Chinese propaganda, while photographs are on all the papers in Joe’s apartment.

It is these details that make the performance so tangible.

Perhaps the most beautiful of details was the two-storied stage.  

The London production lacked this particular element, but it allowed for gorgeous upstairs / downstairs juxtaposition, as the audience watches a couple submit to the throws of passion in America downstairs as a man submits to the Chinese government in the upstairs portion of the stage.

During his first day as a journalistic photographer, Joe was told, “If it bleeds, it leads.”

And Chimerica bleeds. It shocks. It puts faces to events we have been socialized to not think about.  

But it also uplifts. It heralds. It celebrates.  

Yet it reminds us of our own humanity, our own success, our own failures.

Chimerica runs until Oct. 28 at Studio Theatre. More information may be found here. 

Featured Photo Courtesy: Background – Tessa Klein, Diana Oh, Julie-Ann Elliott, Jade Wu, Jordan Barbour, Lee Sellars, Jacob Yeh, Kenneth Lee, Kelsey Wang, and Paul Morella.
Foreground: Rob Yang and Ron Menzel. (Courtesy of Teddy Wolff) 

Courtney Steininger is a sophomore English major and may be reached at Courtneysteininger@gmail.com. 

It’s just past 6 p.m.

The wall was supposed to be up and running by now, but there is only an empty building with bland plywood walls.

The drone of the usual rumblings of a city are suddenly broken by ecstatic cries.

“We made it happen! We made it happen!” Omeed Tabiei said, as he rounds the corner in a gray business suit, sprinting at full speed and shouting with glee.

Omeed Tabiei, director of Think Local First DC, has been working tirelessly for two months to bring “The World We Want Wall” to Anacostia. He explained how difficult it can be to bring independent art projects into the community.

In 2008, President Obama delivered a speech on the anniversary of the March on Washington. He described the courage that development needs to reach “from the corners of Anacostia to the hills of Appalachia.”

What he did not mention was the rich artistic development already blooming in such areas.

Anacostia, known as the community “east of the river” is separated from the rest of D.C. by the Anacostia River. Think Local First DC recently partnered with Project Create, a nonprofit that provides art education for children and families experiencing homelessness, to bring “The World We Want Wall” to Martin Luther King Jr. Street in the area.

This black wall consists of multiple squares that prompted members of the public to write on them with chalk – what world they want to live in, and how they will create this world.

Bringing the wall into this community was not an easy task.

“I’ve always recognized how difficult this community is to come into,” Tabiei said. “This community is considered by many to be separated from the District of Columbia.”

He explained the long process that he went through to bring the project here.

“It was road block after road block after road block. They really tried to stop me in every way,” Tabiei said.

Once the wall was approved, minutes after the scheduled opening time, Tabiei said he felt jubilation.

Immediately, he sprinted up the stairs of the Project Create office, rushing into a brief celebration before everyone went back to work to actually put up the wall.

Lindsey Vance, art therapist and coordinator for the studio program for Project Create, still had spray paint on her blue flip flops from the two hours she spent decorating the large tiles to be drilled into the empty plywood wall around the corner.

She explained the importance of bringing art projects such as the wall into Anacostia. She said art brings outsiders into the community, and sparks discussion about social justice.

“There’s a lot of things happening in this community that people don’t know about because they don’t venture across the bridge,” she said.

She cited three different art events happening that same night, including two gallery openings around the corner. Vance said every day, she fights to end homelessness in an area known for disadvantage, not for its art.

The wall also happens to be drilled into the plywood store front of a future Busboys and Poets location.

Anas “Andy” Shallal founded the coffee and restaurant chain Busboys and Poets in 2005. He came to see the wall installation.

He seemed to look forward to seeing Busboys and Poets bring more to the art scene in the area.

“I always like to go to places where the people in the area want it,” he said. “Southeast, Anacostia, and this area certainly have been neglected for too long and there are people who want to have amenities that they have to cross the bridge to get to.”

On the wall he wrote in every color of chalk available to him: I want to live in a world where … “No other man will scorn and love will bless the earth.”

Anthony Powell is a junior at Anacostia High School, assisting in the wall installation.

He works with Project Create, and says if he were to write on the wall, he would state: “I want to live in a world where everybody is treated equal and everyone is willing to listen and help out everybody.”

Many visitors to the wall Sept. 18 were students from universities in the area. Most of them had heard of the event through Facebook.

One student wants to live in a world where everyone has the opportunity to get an education. Mckenna Pugh, a freshman international affairs major at George Washington University said her passion came from her sister having a disability, and that much of her mother’s life has been driven toward making education accessible for those with disabilities.

Victoria Alukpe, a junior at American University studying political science came to see what other people would write.

She appeared passionate about human rights, and wants to see basic equality accessible for everyone.

“Especially being a black female in America, there are so many things that people don’t see. It’s all hidden. I don’t want to live in a world where I make 64 cents to the dollar.”

After the wall was drilled into the plywood storefront and visitors started writing, Nicole Garder, who helped bring the wall to fruition, buzzed around with excitement.

She collected the emails of visitors in order to create a listserv to hopefully transform the goals on the wall into a reality.  

“There are little things you can do to help people on their way through those journeys” she said.

“Two months I’ve been coming to this community, going to government meetings,  going to every type of neighborhood meeting that I could find to tell everyone,”  Omeed Tabiei said.

Finally, the wall is up, a testament to the growing arts community in Anacostia.

Featured Photo Credit: Fiorella Montoya, a Kensington, Md. resident, leaves a message on the World We Want wall. This wall was one of two set up in the D.C. area, located at the intersection of 11th St. NE and H St. (Ryan Eskalis/Bloc Reporter) 

Raye Weigel is a sophomore multiplatform journalism and English major and may be reached at rayanneweigel@gmail.com. 

By now, you’ve probably already heard the news.

Yes, Drake, Miguel, Wale and a plethora of both mainstream and indie artists are headed to Washington, D.C., tomorrow for a first-ever two-day music festival.

As official press, The Writer’s Bloc staff will be in attendance and will be viciously reporting via social media.

So if you’re headed out to West Potomac Park this weekend, here are the logistics.

Time

Saturday, Sept. 26 and Sunday, Sept. 27.

Doors open at 10 a.m. and the final show concludes at 10 p.m.

Location

West Potomac Park in Washington, D.C. Officials recommend attendees use public transportation. The nearest Metro stations are Foggy Bottom (23rd St. & St. NW) and Smithsonian (12th St. and Independence Avenue SW).

There will be no sponsored parking.

The Cause 

The cause behind this festival concerns the restoration of The National Mall. As a host of roughly 29 million annual visits, the park faces severe financial maintenance.

Trust for the National Mall, an official nonprofit partner of the National Park Service, according to the festival’s press release, is working to restore one of Washington’s most beloved space.

An Excerpt of Saturday’s Lineup

Drake

Ben Howard

Band of Horses

Miguel

The War on Drugs

Nate Ruess

Wale

Twin Shadow

The Lone Bellow

Daughter

Albert Hammond Jr.

The London Souls

An Excerpt of Sunday’s Lineup

The Strokes

alt-J

CHVRCHES

George Ezra

Chromeo

Lord Huron

Manchester Orchestra

TV on the Radio

Dan Deacon

BOOTS

Rhiannon Giddens

Houndmouth

 Reminders / Tips

• Make sure to hydrate and in between fangirling, FEED yourself.
• Oh hey – here’s a map of the venue.
• Ticket opportunities are still available here.
• If you have a wristband, make sure to activate it here.
• Download the mobile app and have access to schedules and logistics.
• If you can’t make it, check out the live stream here.
• FOLLOW us on Twitter, Instagram and Vine. We’re happy to plague your timeline with every moment from the festival.

Featured Photo Credit: Courtesy of allhiphop.wordpress.com.

Landmark Music Festival, a two-day event on the National Mall, brought more than 40 artists, a first-ever venue in Washington, D.C. The Trust for the National Mall is leading the coalition to restore the National Mall.

The Landmark Campaign, a key component of the restoration’s plan, seeks to bring awareness and funds to “America’s front yard.”

This year, Drake and The Strokes headlined the festival held Saturday and Sunday, respectively.

However, there were a plethora of local and upcoming bands who performed, each presenting an eclectic sound and electric energy.

The Writer’s Bloc had the opportunity to interview several groups, from The Mowgli’s and The London Souls to The Joy Formidable and U.S. Royalty.

Saturday

The Mowgli’s

For a band based out of Los Angeles, The Mowgli’s are no strangers to the capital.

“We’re big fans of D.C.,” said Matt, who plays bass. “This has been a really good town and market for us since we started six years ago.”

The band recalled one of their trips to D.C. in which they “had a few libations” before roaming around the city and getting yelled at for singing at the Lincoln Memorial.

“We’ve seen a lot of this city,” mused Spencer, a singer and guitarist. “It’s always a good time here.”

“[D.C.] is a great place and it actually makes me feel at home, at some point,” Matt said. “Especially after I’ve had a few beers.”

The Mowgli’s closed their set with “I’m Good,” one of their more popular songs that was written for an anti-bullying campaign. The song is about being nice to those around us and having a positive outlook on life.

The London Souls

Q: I read online – this might be wrong – that when you guys first started out, you didn’t practice together; you were practicing over cell phones.

Chris: Yeah.

Tash: Yes.

Chris: That happened. It wasn’t the first time we ever played together, but it happened.

Q: Can you explain to me a little bit how that worked?

Tash: Funny story, I was in D.C. at the time, which is where we are right now, and Chris was in New York. This was before iPhones.

I had a flip phone, so it was easier to hold to your shoulder. So you’d be playing over the phone, you could hear each other, and we went over stuff that way.

Chris: He was living down and here and would come up for the weekend to play shows. So, during the week if there was a new song we wanted to go over to play for the next weekend’s show, we’d have to go over it over the phone because there was no time.

Q: Did you guys write songs separately?

Chris: Yeah. We wrote songs together, too. It was both. We’d bring an idea, and also from playing together we would come up with ideas.

Q: You were living in D.C. at the time?

Tash: Yeah, I was going to school down here for a second.

Q: Where did you go to school?

Tash: George Washington University.

Q: What were you studying?

Tash: Um … business.

Q: How long did that last?

Tash: Not very long. I mean, a year. A year and a half, maybe.

Q: Are you from New York? Both of you?

Both: Yeah.

Q: So how does D.C. compare to New York?

Tash: More government in D.C.

Chris: Yeah, government’s a lot bigger here.

Q: What about culture? Nightlife? Stuff like that.

Chris: I think New York is like, more … It’s hard to say. D.C. feels a lot stricter in a lot of ways. It’s also more, like, centralized. There aren’t as many neighborhoods you can go to and find stuff happening. It’s kind of stuff just happening in this one place or one or two neighborhoods as far as nightlife goes. But there’s a lot of great venues here. There’s more venues in D.C. that I like playing than New York, which is interesting because there are less venues here than in New York.

Tash: Yeah, I agree.

Q: So you guys are familiar with D.C., you’ve been here before. While you’re down here, are you doing sightseeing? Any places you usually go that are familiar to you guys?

Chris: Last night – okay, interesting story.

We played at the Hamilton and the owner showed us up onto the roof where you can pretty much see anything you want to see in D.C. from the roof, including the entire White House from above. That was pretty cool. We’re not big sightseers, and we’ve been here – Tash has family here and my sister is here, as well. So we’ve come down on our own many times. Pretty familiar with all the sights so, you know, we don’t need to do that. But it was cool to see the White House like that.

Q: That was something you’ve never done before?

Chris: No, never done that. Seeing the White House from above, you can see into the windows. Like whoa! So that was interesting.

Q: [To Tash] Anything to add?

Tash: This is a new experience. It’s our first time playing a festival in D.C. so it’s cool to play on the National Mall.

Q: Have you guys played on the Mall before?

Tash: No, never.

Q: Have you done other festivals or is this the first?

Tash: Many festivals.

Chris: Not in D.C.

Q: Is security tighter?

Chris: Yeah! This one’s particularly strict. It’s a national park and it’s in the capital, so there’s six or seven different levels of authority you have to go through before you can get to your stage. We’re not allowed in the VIP tent. We’re looking for water and they wouldn’t let us in. We’re the artists, so it’s like –

Tash: No water for you! You have to walk around.

Chris: Who’s more important than the artists at a music festival? That didn’t make sense to me. They’re just a lot more regulated here than at other festivals.

Q: So tell me about some of your guilty pleasures.

Chris: Guilty pleasures? I mean, all pleasures are guilty, right?

Q: Is there anything you’re embarrassed about?

Tash: She wants to know what you’re embarrassed about in an interview? That’s crazy.

Chris: What’s a guilty pleasure?

Tash: I mean, chocolate, man. I don’t know!

Q: That’s a bad answer.

Tash: I can’t really answer that question.

Q: Okay, what shows are you watching?

Tash: Anything funny, man. South Park is always great.

Q: South Park? Anything new? Anything current?

Chris: South Park is current.

Q: Is that still on? I have no idea.

Tash: What? Am I old? Shit. What’s current? What do you watch?

Q: I don’t have time for TV. I watch Modern Family. That’s about it.

Tash: Are you current? That’s crazy. South Park. Come in with Modern Family. I don’t know. You gotta switch that up.

Q: [To Chris] No TV? No Netflix?

Chris: No, I’m gonna go with your answer. I don’t really have time for TV.

Q: What are you guys most excited about for this festival? Is there anyone you’re really excited to see?

Chris: Well … who’s here? Honestly, we don’t even have time to see anyone. We have to fly right after the show. We’re just kinda in and out. We’re not hangin’ unfortunately.

Q: You’re not gonna get to see any other performances today?

Chris: Unfortunately not.

Tash: We literally … we played last night. But you kinda have to … you show up and then you have to set up. We have a flight right after our show so we don’t really get to stay and see anything. It’s also the first day, so that’s kinda how the cards were dealt.

Q: Those are all my questions unless there’s anything else you guys want to tell me.

Tash: Keep an eye out for The London Souls on the Internet. Google our website for tour dates. That’s it. Look us up.

U.S. Royalty

Q: You guys are primarily based in Maryland?

Luke: D.C.

John: We live downtown.

Q: Do you guys play a lot in D.C.?

All: Yeah.

Q: So what does this festival mean to you compared to a normal concert?

Paul: There’s more people, I think.

John: It’s great to play with bands that are from all across the country, and some local acts that are just blowing up right now. It’s pretty cool.

Luke: It’s nice to play in your backyard. You don’t have to travel, say, to Merriweather or something where you’re there all day.

Jacob: Less than a mile from my house.

Luke: It’s right in your backyard. It’s really cool.

Q: So have you guys been able to check out any other bands today?

Luke: We’re trying to.

John: We saw Albert Hammond for a second.

Paul: And Vandeveer. Vandaveer’s some cool cats that we’ve known for a while.

Jacob: Twin Shadows was cool.

Q: You know Vandaveer?

Paul: Those guys have been in the scene for a while so we’ve seen them play in different bands and when we were first starting they were playing a lot around the city.

Q: Your band name, U.S. Royalty, where did that come from?

All: [Point to Jacob]

Jacob: Um … I don’t know. I was honestly mowing the lawn one day and it just kind of came to me. I think I heard it in a song. I thought very, very highly of myself as I was mowing the lawn, and I decided … big dreams.

Q: And none of you opposed it? You all just kind of went with it?

Luke: He called me and he was like ‘Hey, I got this show booked.’ We were just writing some songs, we hadn’t really decided if we were gonna play anything yet. So he called me and said he booked a show three months away and told the booker our name was U.S. Royalty. That was better than anything else we came up with so I was like ‘Cool let’s go with it.’

John: Usually when someone makes a decision it’s a lot easier.

Luke: If someone just tells you what’s happening, it’s a lot easier than trying to deliberate over it. It’s funny, actually, how over time … there’s some cool stuff you can do with it. At the time, we were just like yeah okay.

Q: So what is the worst movie you have seen recently?

Luke: Does anyone watch movies anymore?

John: I hated that movie Her.

Paul: I loved it!

Luke: I turn it off if I don’t like it; I don’t make it through it. There a couple movies I want to see, though.

Q: Like what?

Luke: Uh … Black Mass. Actually, on Monday, I’d like to go to the movies and try to see as many as possible. Just buy one ticket and keep going until they kick me out.

Q: Do you guys have any guilty pleasures?

Jacob: Not guilty.

Luke: I don’t guilt myself.

Paul: I think when you hit a certain age you don’t feel guilty about it anymore.

Luke: I’m comfortable with my pleasures. […] Well, I just read all of Harry Potter in August.

Q: For the first time?

Paul: Hold on to the phone, please! Don’t drop the phone!

Luke: It was a total pleasure.

Q: That’s not a guilty pleasure. You’ve never read Harry Potter before?

Luke: No, this was the first time.

Paul: We listen to Lord of the Rings on the bus sometimes.

Q: All right, that’s interesting.

Paul: That’s a guilty pleasure.

John: We bought the books on tape. It’s like 15 cassette tapes.

Luke: It’s a BBC dramatization.

John: It took us, like, three months of touring to get through it.

Luke: We all know the story. We just wanted to hear them recreate it.

Q: I have all the Harry Potter books on tape.

Luke: It’s great! I never thought they were bad, there’s just so much stuff to read. I was a little bit older when that stuff came out, so I was like what’s the point? There’s like seven books. But then I started reading them this summer.

My girlfriend was like here, read the first one; you’re at the beach, just relax. So I read it and I was like boom! The books are amazing. J. K. Rowling? One of the best authors. The movies? Maybe they get better by the fifth one or something. I’m not a fan. I feel like, when I watching Lord of the Rings, I was thinking about how they were done really well. I think, with the subject matter, you can hire actors that have been doing this for a while. Whereas, with Harry Potter, you’re kind of forced to hire kids and maybe they’ll turn into good actors, but maybe not. I feel like, as they got older they got better, but when they were first starting [groan]. But with the books, she really did really well with the written word. The movies caught up slower.

Q: So you’re all Lord of the Rings fans?

All: Yeah.

Jacob: I love all things that increase children’s imaginations.

John: Jake just has to deal with it.

Q: How did you feel listening to them on tape on the bus?

Jacob: I felt great. It was something different. It was good. I remember laying in the back of the van listening to Lord of the Rings on tape and my imagination is like running wild. It’s very vivid. It made time fly by and I kind of got lost in my own feelings a little bit.

Q: But that wasn’t as inspiring as when you were mowing the lawn and came up with your band name?

John: She’s got you there.

Jacob: No, my imagination really runs when I mow the lawn. You’d be surprised.  

Empresarios

Q: Your sound is a little bit different than the other bands here, so what was the audience reaction and how do you think you guys fit in while still standing out?

Javier: It was a great response. We from D.C. so it’s an honor to have the response that we had because we love our crowd. We do have a following, but today we reached out to many audiences. We so happy that we look good. We have fun, we rocked the crowd. We did.

Sonny: From a DJ standpoint, I will tell you that it was so nice to see so many different people together. What we always expected to see, what we always wanted, our vision of why we started this, is to see so many people together. Just because we’re a Latin band, we’re not just Latin. We are a lot of different people. Different cultures coming together, but making a common stand in music. You’re going to hear a lot of beautiful music.

Javier: Our new record came out yesterday.

Sonny: Yes, and our beautiful CD came out yesterday.

Q: Did you guys play any of those songs today?

Javier: Yes!

Sonny: Yes we did. We played several, but I tell you what: even our old music made an impression today.

Javier: Yeah, it doesn’t get old. That’s a good thing.

Sonny: Everything’s different and we had to make our mark, we have to achieve our goals, and we’re going to keep going and that’s what we intend to do.

Q: Did you say you’re based in D.C.? So what does D.C. mean to you?

Sonny: For me, I was born and raised here. Javier got here in ’92.

Javier: It’s where I made it. D.C. see me born as a musician and give me the opportunity to showcase what I do and embrace it and love me and this is my city.

Sonny: I’ll expand on what he says. When I got together with this brilliant man, and we made music together, and we decided we’re gonna make it better. And now we’re here today and we’re more than humble to be standing in front of you, and especially in front of this stage today to showcase our music. That was the most important thing we ever did. To that, we are the most humble people in the world for that.

Q: Do you guys play a lot of festivals?

Javier: Yes, we have. We played festivals in Colorado. We played festivals – we’re gonna play a festival in Puerto Rico. We’re familiar with festivals, but this is special. This is home. I hope this grow to be something that we can keep doing every year for years and years and we can keep making something part of D.C. and then we can call our friends from every city and be like, “Yo, we got our own come through every year.”

Sonny: Great artists like Wale, who’s a local artist.

Javier: He was talking about doing his own thing. He was talking about doing his own festival next summer.

Sonny: You know what? We’re lucky we get to be a part of this and we’re very humbled to be here right now. We’re very lucky for the crowd that even came and adored us today. It feels special. It feels very special to us and we’ll never forget that.

Q: How did you get involved with Landmark?

Javier: C3, they hit us up and we got booked through our boy, through the Hamilton. Shout out. We love the Hamilton.

Sonny: We’re gonna keep doing our music no matter what we do. We believe in our music. We just hope everybody else does. And today we saw a nice crowd, a beautiful crowd, from Washington, D.C. All walks of life. They don’t even understand Spanish – I don’t even understand Spanish. But we make music that everybody can dance –

Javier: Music is a universal language and if the beat is fat, you’re gonna dance. That’s it.

Sonny: Welcome to America.

Q: On a lighter note, what is the worst movie you’ve seen recently?

Sonny: It’s hard for me to rail on somebody!

Q: Okay, then best movie?

Sonny: Okay, you ready?

Javier: That Narco thing? Everybody watches Narco, that’s not a movie. It’s a Netflix thing. Everybody call and ask, “You seen Narco? You seen Narco?” You wake up in the morning, it’s like, “Yo! You seen Narco last night?”

Sonny: I’ll tell you something.

Javier: What? What movie you like?

Sonny: It’s not a movie.

Javier: She asked about movies. You have to say a movie.

Sonny: American X. I like American X because – I’m a big fan of my boy. That was serious and that was crazy and that shows the difference between craziness and reality. That’s what I like to think about this country because that’s where we are.

Javier: You know what? The Amy Winhehouse because I love Amy Winehouse.

Sonny: It’s a documentary.

Javier: It’s called ‘Amy.’ It’s an actual movie. Amazing, amazing documentary.

Sonny: But I will expand –

Javier: What’s the right word for that? Mockumentary?

Sonny: I’m gonna expand on what I’m saying because what I said was very controversial. I don’t want anybody to get the wrong idea. The reason why I like that is because the difference in our lifetime. There’s a lot of things going on politically that, today – I’m not talking about being racist or anything like that, I’m talking about the difference showing how people can change. I don’t want to talk about… I don’t want to be political. I don’t want to talk about people being racist. I think people can come together and that’s what Empresarios really brings –

Javier: Let me add something! Maybe that’s what you were trying to say. Through music, we really bring people together. It doesn’t matter what race it is. It’s a universal language and that’s what we do so we can bring people together. So we are really proud to be here doing this through music.

Featured Photo Credit: Paul Thornley, the lead guitarist and vocalist of D.C. band U.S. Royalty, during their performance at Landmark Music Festival on Saturday. (Cassie Osvatics/Bloc Reporter)

Part two of our interviews will feature bands such as The Joy Formidable and Ace Cosgrove. Stay tuned. 

Maya Pottiger is a junior journalism major and can be reached at mayabee777@aim.com.

Cassie Osvatics is a junior secondary English education major and may be reached cosvatics@gmail.com. 

Editor’s Note: This article features explicit language. 

Landmark Music Festival, a two-day event on the National Mall, brought more than 40 artists, a first-ever venue in Washington, D.C. The Trust for the National Mall is leading the coalition to restore the National Mall.

The Landmark Campaign, a key component of the restoration’s plan, seeks to bring awareness and funds to “America’s front yard.”

This year, Drake and The Strokes headlined the festival held Saturday and Sunday, respectively.

However, there were a plethora of local and upcoming bands who performed, each presenting an eclectic sound and electric energy.

The Writer’s Bloc had the opportunity to interview several groups, from The Mowgli’s and The London Souls to The Joy Formidable and U.S. Royalty.

Sunday

The Joy Formidable

Q: Where are you guys from?

Ritzy: We’re from North Wales. [To Matt] Oh, and where are you basing yourself these days?

Matt: I’m saying, “Just the south.” South of the giant Welsh wall.

Rhydian: Two-thirds Welsh. Never mind about the other third.

Matt: And I can’t wash that off. I tried!

Q: So what brought you guys to Landmark?

Ritzy: Well they invited us and we were like, “Oh, okay then.”

Matt: We thought we might as well do a show. We hadn’t done one in a while. Twiddling our thumbs in the studio.

Ritzy: Quite a pretty location isn’t it? Not too ugly.

Matt: And, frankly, we’re contractually obliged.

Q: Have you guys been to DC before?

Rhydian: Quite a few times, actually. We love playing DC. Always great audiences. It feels like – well, it is a very musical city, lots of rich musical history.

Ritzy: You’ve got the 9:30 – How’s the Black Cat? Is the Black Cat still going these days?

Q: Yeah!

Ritzy: You’ve got two really great venues there. Especially the 9:30 Club. We love playing there; they treat you really good. Sounds good. It’s kind of the way a venue should be run, if you ask me.

Matt: They’ve got artist laundry facilities so you can wash your undercrackers.

Ritzy: That’s why I like it, is ‘cause you two stop stinking after we play the 9:30.

Matt: No, you two still stink, but at least our washing’s done.

Q: Have you done sightseeing before?

Ritzy: We try when we’re touring, but it’s quite difficult when you tour depending on the way your shows are scheduled. For instance, yesterday we were in Montreal and then at 3 a.m. this morning we weren’t in Montreal anymore!

Matt: This morning we were in Montreal.

Ritzy: And then at 6 a.m. we were here and soon we’ll be somewhere else. But when time allows, absolutely. Those are good days when you get to absorb a little bit of where you’re playing and see the festival, see some of the bands. We like D.C. There’s a lot to see in D.C.

Rhydian: I’ve wanted to see this area for a while, but there’s a festival in the way now.

Q: Other than the 9:30 Club, is there something about D.C. that stands out to you? A specific memory? A landmark?

Rhydian: [To Ritzy] Well, you actually lived here.

Ritzy: I did. I think, for me, it was … I came here just before forming this band with these guys. For me, it was a real place I wrote a lot. I think I found my lyrical voice in D.C.

Q: Where in D.C. did you live?

Ritzy: I lived just outside of Bethesda. I was locked in a basement for quite a long time, so it was a good place to write.

Rhydian: That’s where we like to keep you. […] Mine is the shows, really. It has been a little bit in and out, but we have experienced always really reactive and engaged audiences. We’ve done some interesting gigs here, as well. We did the church – I can’t remember what area that was now. It was very much a communal kind of gig, which we are very happy to endorse. Like you said, it’s got massive musical history, hasn’t it, D.C.? And kind of really questioning, aggressive stuff, as well.

Q: This last one is just kind of fun. What is your one guilty pleasure? Just one. You can only pick one.

Matt: I don’t feel guilty about anything. I do what I want!

Ritzy: That’s exactly what I was gonna say. I like, occasionally, watching a crappy film or watching something crappy on the TV. The only thing I’m a bit of a snob about is books. I’m not gonna waste my fucking time reading a bad book. One chapter in, I’m like “nah. This is rot. I’m not bothered with this.”

Matt: It’s a guilty pleasure. It’s not a pleasure then, is it?

Ritzy: I’m not snobby about anything else. It’s nice to swap things up –

Matt: Bridezilla. That’s a shocking one, isn’t it?

Ritzy: Yeah. You and I – why were we watching that the other day?

Matt: I don’t know, but by the end I just had to switch it off.

Ritzy: It was too much shouting!

Matt: Yeah!

Rhydian: Yeah … mine would be smoking, but that’s not a guilty pleasure, that’s addiction.

Ace Cosgrove

Q: You’re from the Gaithersburg area?

Ace: Yes.

Q: So are you familiar with the University of Maryland, College Park?

Ace: Oh, for sure! Yeah! My girlfriend goes there.

Q: So do you spend a lot of time there?

Ace: Not anymore. She doesn’t live on campus anymore.

Q: Oh, that’s where we’re from. But you spent some time at Maryland?

Ace: Yeah, for sure.

Q: Does the campus mean anything to you? Do you have any good memories there?

Ace: I met my girlfriend on campus at a party that I was not invited to. So yes, yes, yes, plenty of good times at Maryland.

Q: Growing up so close to D.C., have you spent a lot of time here?

Ace: Nah. They ask that shit a lot, like what’s it like? I guess, because I’m from the area, I don’t really come down here and visits because it’s more, like, some tourist shit, you know what I’m saying? I should, but no I don’t. I don’t.

Q: Were you here yesterday?

Ace: Yeah.

Q: Were you able to see any of the artists?

Ace: I saw Drake, of course. That shit was pretty tight. He did ‘Back to Back,’ he did ‘Hotline Bling.’ So yeah.

Q: What was your favorite song?

Ace: I’m not gonna lie, probably ‘Back to Back.’ Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Q: Have you heard his new mixtape yet?

Ace: With Future?

Q: Yeah.

Ace: Yeah, yeah, I fuck with it. I fuck with ‘Big Rings,’ ‘Jumpman’ – jumpman, jumpman, jumpman, jumpman! And uh, I like, what’s the other one?

Q: I like ‘Scholarships.’

Ace: ‘Scholarships’? I gotta listen to that again. I don’t remember that. Oh! And ’30 for 30 Freestyle.’ He body that shit.

Q: Have you been able to check out anyone today?

Ace: Nah, just been fuckin’ roamin’ around, talkin’ to everybody.

Q: Do you get a lot of press or is this kind of new for you?

Ace: Um … I get a lot of blog love, but this is kind of new, walking around to everyone saying, “Ace! Ace! Ace!”

Q: So you’re, how old? 23?

Ace: 24.

Q: How does it feel to have this much success so young?

Ace: Um … I don’t think I have that much success, so there’s no ceiling and I’m just trying to keep going up. I don’t think I have that much success.

Q: Do you have a current guilty pleasure?

Ace: Eating too much pizza. Ledo’s pizza. Are you hip to Ledo’s? There’s one in College Park. Do you go there?

Q: Oh, yeah!

Ace: Exactly, so that’s my guilty pleasure; eating too much pizza.

Q: What is the worst movie you’ve seen recently?

Ace: Worst movie that I’ve seen recently? Damn! I don’t know …  I’ll tell you the stupidest thing that I’ve seen: all that reality dumb shit that’s on TV. I hate reality shows. That shit is poison for your brain.

Q: So what shows do you watch?

Ace: ESPN. I don’t really watch TV, to be honest, unless I’m at my girl’s house. I’ll just watch ESPN. I just got into Narcos – are you hip to Narcos? – on Netflix. It’s about Pablo Escobar. And then I just like documentaries and stuff like that. I just watch a lot of, like music interviews. A lot of Breakfast Club and Hot 97. Yeah.

Q: If you had to describe this weekend in three words, how would you describe it?

Ace: Three words? Very, very epic.

Featured Photo Credit: Matt Thomas of the band The Joy Formidable. (Cassie Osvatics/Bloc Reporter)

Maya Pottiger is a junior journalism major and can be reached at mayabee777@aim.com.

Cassie Osvatics is a junior secondary English education major and may be reached cosvatics@gmail.com. 

Like many of the audiences at the National Gallery of Art’s free film screenings I’ve been to, I was one of only a handful of individuals under the age of 60 at the screening Saturday.

Perhaps this is understandable; Rohmer in Paris is a documentary about a dead director who was born 95 years ago, a director whose career spanned more than 50 years—most of those years being before I was born.

And yet with the universality of Éric Rohmer’s portrayal of urban spaces, chance meetings and complicated human relationships, I could not help but wish I had seen more young faces surrounding me in the East building auditorium before the lights dimmed and the projector started.

As with many of Rohmer’s own films, Richard Misek’s Rohmer in Paris centers on individuals crossing paths by chance.

In 1994, Misek inadvertently walked into a shot in Éric Rohmer’s film Rendezvous in Paris while Rohmer was shooting on location on a Paris street. Misek thought nothing of it at the time, not knowing or caring who Éric Rohmer was.

Several years later, however, Misek saw Rendezvous in Paris on television, seeing himself walk across the screen, completely by chance.

It was this, Misek said in his documentary, that set off his obsession with Rohmer’s films and the city he so often shot them in.

Rohmer in Paris is composed almost exclusively of footage from Rohmer’s films while Misek narrates, explaining the significances of framings, characters’ movements and biographical tie-ins of Rohmer’s personal life.

Rohmer’s characters stroll through the Latin Quarter, just as Rohmer himself did in the 1950s, with other contributors to Cahiers du Cinema and future directors of the Nouvelle Vague.

His characters ride busses and trains and commute to and from Paris, each of them having unique schedules and routines, just like the millions of other individuals around them who live and work in France’s most important city.

Misek claims Rohmer would inhabit his characters’ roles, taking their routes throughout the city for several days to get a sense of what they would see and hear.

Rohmer died in 2010 while Misek was still working on Rohmer in Paris. Misek never got a chance to show Rohmer how much his films came to mean to him.

Though my experience with Rohmer’s filmography is very limited compared to Misek’s (I had only seen My Night at Maud’s and La Collectionneuse prior to this screening), I felt like I could relate to his lamentations on losing the man who made all of these films.

When you see so many films by a good filmmaker, it’s not hard to feel like you know the filmmaker personally, even if you’ve never met them. It’s no mark of shame for a cinephile to even come to love them. When Misek says he truly loves Éric Rohmer, I believe him—I too know what it’s like to love artists long dead and gone.

After Rohmer in Paris, the first film in Éric Rohmer’s “Six Moral Tales” series was screened, the 1963 short The Girl at the Monceau Bakery.

This film perfectly exemplifies Rohmer’s style as articulated by Misek in Rohmer in Paris. There are coincidental chance meetings and spaces are navigated in a geographically sound way; you could chart the route taken by the main character on a map of the streets of Paris.

After leaving the auditorium and walking back to the metro on the streets of Washington, D.C., I myself felt like a Rohmerian character, just waiting to bump into some stranger who would change my life in some way.

Featured Photo Credit: Screenshot from Love in the Afternoon. (Courtesy of Flickr user Caspy2003)

Matt Kubisiak is a senior broadcast journalism and film studies double major. He can be reached at matt.kubisiak@gmail.com.

Hearts tangled with the microphones, soul and flesh blurring within the lights that resembled full moons, Colony House’s first show of their tour with nostalgic synth-pop band COIN and indie-pop band Flor, was one that will be painted gold in the shelf of my mind.

U Street Music Hall provided an intimate and intense venue for the almost sold-out show, the audience ready to soak in each lyric and each note.

The night was about liberation, freedom of expectations and the opportunity to dwell in the charged and triumphant world of the Nashville trio.

The emotional track “Glorious” had the crowd swaying, the lines “I’m still waiting for the day where I’m more than mistakes,” the weight of the lyrics passing onto the audience, the words tattooing themselves onto their chests. The word “glorious” was now a kissable reality.

The show was almost like a painting. Many tracks featured extended intros, coiled the suspense of the show and splattered hushed colors to the background of the masterpiece.

Drummer Will Chapman’s playful demeanor peeked through the curtains in certain moments,  including when he slapped his brother’s butt as he walked back to his drum set. The frontman reacted to it with a “good game,” the audience laughing at the sibling interaction.

Their top single, “Silhouettes,” had couples in the audience twirling; the energy dialed until it reached the night sky. Stomping and clapping ensued towards the end chorus.

“You’re beautiful!” I shouted to Caleb between songs, when the audience was quiet.

“You’re beautiful too,” he immediately said, smiling a bit to himself.

The band played a few new songs, such as “This Beautiful Life,” which Caleb hinted might be the title of the group’s sophomore album.

“I don’t know, stay tuned,” he said to audience members.

“This Beautiful Life” was like honey gliding over one’s wounds, slow and simple, but satisfying. The threads of childhood, mistakes, impatience and shadows were woven throughout the show and will most likely continue onto the band’s next album.

I think one of the most beautiful moments of the performance was near the end of “Moving Forward,”  the 11 second bit where only the drums are roaring, punctuating along with Caleb’s singing.

“My eyes are open, my heart is beating, my lungs are full,” Caleb sang, while everyone in the audience had their arms outstretched, light filling the cracks between the damage.

Their set ended with my favorite song “2:20,” the rich, dark and sensual subject matter proved so powerful, it suffocated us all.

The faded “2:20” that I had scribbled on my wrist earlier in the day seemed to glow, as guitarist Scott Millis stepped closer to the audience, losing himself to the siren call of his instrument.

Like the song, “Waiting for My Time to Come,” says, I’ll just have “to be patient now, [and] let the fire burn” until their next appearance in the D.C. area.

For now, I’ll sketch the constellations that they bloomed across my skin onto the walls and give pieces of the late hours to those who want to exist within the timeless presence of a band that made me realize how to breathe again.

Featured Photo Credit: Frontman Caleb Chapman of the band Colony House. (Julia Lerner/Bloc Reporter) 

Karla Casique is a sophomore journalism major and can be reached at karlacasique@hotmail.com.

Editor’s Note: This article contains explicit language.

Correction: Prior to this correction it was reported The Neighbourhood’s two albums were “Let it go” and “Female Robbery.” These are in fact song titles – not the names of albums. 

***

Jesse Rutherford, lead singer of The Neighbourhood, wore Adidas sweat pants, an “I Heart US” T-shirt and his signature sunglasses.

The venue was the intimate 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C., on a rainy Tuesday evening.

The set opened with strobe lights and the song, “What Do You Want from Me,” and concluded with the hit “Sweater Weather.”

An anxious and energetic crowd of hipsters and music lovers, all of whom yearned to be taken into a dream world by Rutherford’s powerful vocals and Jeremy Freedman and Zach Abels’s instrumental talents, welcomed them.

The show’s set list incorporated new tracks, which will appear on the band’s upcoming album to be released Oct. 30, in addition to hits such as “Let it Go” and “Female Robbery.”

@thenbhd plays one of their newer songs at the @930Club pic.twitter.com/2lm5qY97c7

— The Writer’s Bloc (@umdwritersbloc) September 30, 2015

Rutherford belted out the ballad “Baby Came Home,” hitting every high note and allowing his voice to pierce through the sounds of the electric guitars, synthesizers and percussion, leaving listeners with a chilling yet satisfying echo.

After “Baby Came Home” came the band’s most intense and powerful song, “Afraid,” which viscously describes the singer’s insecurities and paranoia. Upon hearing the bending guitar intro, fans immediately raised their hands in admiration and finished the song’s infamous line “Fuck You Anyway” each time Rutherford backed away from the mic.

Then the band briefly disappeared from the stage. Rutherford returned alone, performing some of the band’s newest hip hop singles, or as he put it “trying something new.”

He effortlessly took ownership of the small stage throughout the set—snapping his fingers and dancing to the music—exuding an incredibly confident, entertaining stage presence that left the audience hanging onto his every word.

Five out of the six members of the first show’s opening act, Hunny, vaguely resembled early, pre-Foo Fighters Dave Grohl, each fighting his own battle of long, sweaty hair versus clear vision, while wearing baggy T-shirts and ripped jeans. The up-and-coming band took the stage with an alternative rock, indie sound and mesmerized the crowd of the then half-filled venue.

Hunny’s lead singer looked as though he just walked out of the 1980s, sporting a yellow smiley face earring in one ear, a choker necklace, painted fingernails and a baggy sweater. He passionately sang each song with sensual gestures, vocals and body language, with his lips caressing the microphone in a way that every girl would expect from her significant other.

Hunny later offered exclusive pre-ordered EP’s for audience members, explaining that the only CD’s they had left were those with their “stupid autographs on them,” after having sold out during a previous show in Florida.

The second opener, Bad Suns, amped up the energy of the venue as more audience members filed in, playing dance anthems such as “Cardiac Arrest” and “Salt.” Lead singer Christo Bowman gyrating his hips and pointing to lucky members in the crowd, broke the audience’s trance from the previous performance, promising that the band would “keep playing as long as you guys keep dancing.”

Bowman’s exceptional vocals in accompaniment with his skilled guitar playing proved impressive, resulting in him having a visible effect on the audience. The removal of his leather jacket evoked screams from audience members and one lucky fan obtained bragging rights after having held his hand for 20 seconds upon his entrance into the first row of the crowd.

Upon the resolution of the concert, fans left 9:30 with satisfaction in their eyes, a ringing in their ears, songs in their heads and the desire to relocate to Southern California.

Jordan Stovka is a freshman journalism major and can be reached at  jstovka@icloud.com.

The fist-pumping boy with the white beanie was drowned out by the crowd, but he was no doubt ululating like there was no tomorrow.

Whether in preparation for this weekend’s oncoming storm, or in response to that day’s rain, MS MR’s vocalist Lizzy Plapinger glorified disaster and seemed to baptize herself in chaos as she dominated the 9:30 Club stage Thursday night.

One man shouted “Your outfit is the universe!” in the roar of the crowd. Her black onesie was indeed glittering.

With their song Fantasy, MS MR forged an extraordinary emotional echolocation with the audience. Plapinger’s flaming red hair defied gravity with each  flip as she grinned and swung the microphone like a lasso above her head with the proclamation that they were “there to call the assholes out” during their song Think of You.

MS MR was preceded on stage by two other bands: a duo from Seattle called Crater, and Circa Waves, a rock band from Liverpool.

The drummer from Circa Waves, Colin Jones, stood out from the others. All of the band members were clearly lost in the music but he seemed to be in another world entirely. “I completely lose myself … I like looking and seeing people smile and laugh,” he said.

“My favorite thing about being on the road is that there’s no normal schedule. I love waking up at 7 o’clock in the morning to go and do radio. Or I love waking up at 1 o’clock, getting a late checkout, and going to play a show at a normal time.”

His least favorite thing is leaving his favorite restaurants at home. He says his favorite Cantonese place is the first thing he eats once he gets back home.

Circa waves drove the audience over the edge with their song T-Shirt Weather, as Jones seemed to be possessed by the drums. He whipped his hair, stuck his tongue out, and grinned.

Jones’ command of the stage was evident in the audience’s enthusiasm. Grinning, Plapinger exclaimed “I know you can bring the fucking house down,” as an MS MR sign flashed bright red behind her. It was a wonder the faint of heart in the audience did not flee.

Both her power and her joy were evident as she thanked the audience after most songs and emanated a contagious positive energy.

In addition to fist-pumping, the boy with the white beanie was now violently thrashing his head.

MS MR transformed the audience members into criminals with their song No Guilt in Pleasure that celebrates chances taken and chaos without regret.

You will not see these audience members at church this Sunday.

They … will be elsewhere.

Featured Photo Credit: Lizzy Plapinger, the MS part of MSMR, and Max Hershenow, the MR part of MSMR, sing and dance together during the set. Hershenow admitted to bejeweling his outfit prior to the performance Thursday so he could match Plapinger. (Julia Lerner/Bloc Reporter)

Raye Weigel is a sophomore multiplatform journalism and English major and may be reached at rayanneweigel@gmail.com. 

If you’ve ever needed a band to listen to, a band to thrash to or a band to relate to, check out Wavves. Their surf-punk, unpolished sound, coupled with their truthful lyrics about their disappointment with the world and with themselves, has enticed listeners around the world.

Wavves performed last night at the 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C., promoting their newest album V.

V was inspired by a breakup and was written during a time of heavy, daily drinking, according to Pitchfork.

Nathan Williams started the band in San Diego in 2008. Since then, Wavves has been doing nothing but producing music, touring and promoting.

“I think they’re just raw,” Rob Groulx, a 27 year-old from Detroit, said. “I like that they have a sound that’s unpolished. I just like their punk and surf vibe.”

When Wavves was established, its sound could be categorized as lo-fi noise rock. Wavves has been developing their sound for seven years now and it has morphed into surf rock.

“I like how they’re style changes, but it’s always the same root style,” Nicole Young a 22 year-old from Frederick, Md., said. “You always know it’s Wavves.”

Williams’ lyrics reflect his day-to-day life. He often writes about his madness, his disappointment with the world and his desire to escape.

“I like that he doesn’t care what people think of him,” Mathias Henry, 23, of Frederick, Md. said. “He says anything he wants to say.”

The music offers something different than what most artists produce today–relatability.

“I like their vibe,” Evan Onestinghel, a 23 year-old of Vienna, W.Va., said. “They’re just chill. It’s great music to just chill and smoke weed to. It means having a good time, hanging out with friends, just the chill moments of life.”

Standing in front of a tye-dyed backdrop, Wavves’ stage presence is simple but powerful. A mosh pit was formed in the center of the crowd immediately after the set began. Audience members expressed themselves to the heavy bass and catchy lyrics through crowd surfing, headbanding and dancing.

“Wavves is God,” said Hali Myles, 20, of Florida. “It’s beachy, it’s fun, it’s different. It’s everything that no one else does.”

Wavves is currently headlining an international tour with Twin Peaks.

“We both love each other a lot,” Clay Frankel, the upright guitarist for Twin Peaks, said.

“They asked us to [come] so we said, ‘yeah.’ [We both make] good rock and roll music and that stuff always goes well together.”

Wavves’ newest album has been met with overwhelmingly positive reviews and has only heightened their popularity. The southern California dudes have been making waves around the world with their alternative sound.

Featured Photo Credit: courtesy of Flickr user Mike Cicchetti.

Katie Ebel is a sophomore journalism major and can be reached at katieebel@gmail.com.