way that complicates the
narrative of the internet as a
void of narcissism. There’s an
intentional
and
maintained
level of anonymity that feels
very
akin
to
the
mythic
recluses
and
anonymously
published poets of the print
canon.
And online, a community
has
formed.
Poets
can
communicate,
read
one
another’s
work
and
talk
from across the globe. It’s
a
community
that
values
authenticity, something that
the medium often facilitates
more
than
traditional
print media. No editors, no
publishers, all that stands
between a poem and the world
is a click.
Some
poets,
like
@pds.
literate,
use
Instagram
in
a similar way. They post
pictures, often screenshots
from iPhone notes or stylized
photo collages, of their poems.
For many poets, the roots of
this kind of publication are
more based in street art and
photography. Because Twitter
poetry
has
historically
favored canon or traditional
poetry, Instagram is an outlet
for poets who can sometimes
feel left out or overwhelmed
by the noise of Twitter.
The draw of these online
platforms
as
opposed
to
traditional
forms
of
publication — even small-
scale
self-publication
—
for many young writers is
the instant accessibility of
their
art.
Publication
is,
realistically, a lot of work for
little
readership,
whereas
in an instant a tweet or an
Instagram post is available
to anyone with Wi-Fi. In that
way, the internet actually
becomes what Silicon Valley
always dreamed it could be: a
great equalizer.
Anyone who writes can be
published and anyone who
reads can come across poetry.
Some people think this is
all just horrible narcissism.
Poetry is just another thing
for millennials to kill, to
over-post it into oblivion. The
self-awareness is seen as self-
absorption, and 140 characters
— or 280 if you’re one of the
lucky (or cursed) who got to
use the boosted count in beta
— just isn’t enough for a poem.
Twitter
becomes
a
microcosm for the English
language,
which
can
be
beautiful
and
stupid,
and
often both at once. This new
wave of internet poets has
seized on the possibilities,
viewing every tweet as a poem
or part of a poem.
Then, like in traditional
print poetry, the reader is
tasked with making sense of
it. Is the individual tweet the
poem or is it the whole feed?
And, of course, the answer
is both. The medium allows
poets to publish their process,
send words or phrases or
sentences out into the world
and see how readers respond
to them — what they retweet
and what they scroll past. The
platform
is
revolutionizing
the way people make and
interact with poetry.
Internet
poetry
—
like
all worthwhile art — is an
adventure in sifting through
dirt (and sometimes shit) to
find gold. The fact that the
pile of dirt has grown doesn’t
dim the gold’s glow.
It feels natural that people
have taken this cold and
detatched thing — Twitter,
Instagram, the internet — and
animated it with art. What
could be more right than that?
songs, a rigid schedule is
never set.
“I’ve always felt limited
by writing vocals,” he said.
“Writing
words,
I
would
just stay up until 3 a.m. until
something came to me and
something just came out and
was like this is what sounds
good
here
and
it
should
happen.”
It’s a decisively informal
creative
process
that
fits
Stoitsiadis’s
style
well,
paralleling
the
decisively
informal way he first started
to make music.
However, while the method
has remained constant, the
way
Stoitsiadis
personally
defines
DIY
music
is
something that has changed
significantly over the years.
“When
I
first
started,”
he said, “DIY was sort of
just doing it all by yourself…
and kind of rejecting any
help you can get. But, as I’ve
kind of grown and the band
has grown, and we’ve been
exposed to this community
of people who believe the
same way; it’s kind of like now
you’ve got to open yourself
up to others and you’ve got to
take inspiration from others
and give inspiration to them.”
It’s a constructive back-and-
forth of ideas, a connection
that seems integral to the
expansion of DIY music.
Out of basements, living
rooms
and
cafe
corners,
music is being made. It’s not
perfect. Like all forms of art,
it has its shortcomings. But
no matter what your opinion
is on this type of sound, there
is no denying the passion and
resourcefulness behind these
underground explorations of
artistic expression.
There is no denying the
significance of bands like
Dogleg.
Especially
during
live shows, their preference
to play smaller venues allows
them to easily build a level of
intimacy with the crowd.
“We always prefer to play
houses,” Stoitsiadis said. “It
just allows us to get close with
the crowd and talk to people,
like right after and during
the show. And just be more
connected.”
In addition, the way Dogleg
genuinely seem to appreciate
and become motivated by the
support of listeners allows
them, and potentially the rest
of the DIY music community,
to be seen as approachable.
“I
think
just
knowing
that somebody out there is
listening to us,” he said, “and
just like really connecting
with us is what makes me keep
wanting to write more songs.”
It’s this selfless gratitude
that highlights the strength
of groups like Dogleg; their
dedication has the potential
to influence others to strive
and create similar DIY spaces
in Ann Arbor.
Above all else, DIY art
simply empowers creativity:
the ability to take that initial
low-quality recording device
and turn it into something
that is so much more.
You can listen Dogleg on
Bandcamp and Spotify and
follow them on Twitter and
Facebook.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Thursday, September 28, 2017 — 3B
TWITTER
From Page 2B
DOGLEG
From Page 2B
It’s an unassuming lot —
that is, if you make it out
there. Nestled in a quiet, hilly
patch of various shades of
green next to the Matthaei
Botanical
Gardens,
seven
miles from Central Campus,
sit an un-showy few plots of
land. Deftly manicured rows
of crops, a full, working hoop
house, an abundance of hoses
watering plants — even though
we’re definitely not on campus,
this is the Campus Farm.
***
Founded in 2012 by a group of
graduate students, the Campus
Farm
is
a
self-sustaining,
student-run, year-round farm.
There are 10 student managers
that oversee almost all aspects
of the operation, from planting
to harvesting to distribution,
and every Friday, about 40
volunteers It’s one of those
“Duh!”
extracurriculars,
if
you get what I mean — you had
never heard about it, but once
you did, of course that makes
sense.
Engineering
junior
Carly
Sharp is one of those 10 student
managers. She’s also in charge
of
coordinating
volunteers
for Volunteer Workdays every
Friday.
“It’s
a
living-learning
community, so the idea is to
bring students out there to
learn more about agriculture,”
she said. “It’s meant to provide
a space for students to get a
chance to see where their food
comes from and its impacts on
the environment.”
The Campus Farm is funded
by grants and donations, but
as a model of sustainability,
its recent Good Agricultural
Practices
certification
has
been a huge step forward for
the program.
Previously, Campus Farm
produce was sold to Argus
Farm Stop (a local produce
stop) or Student Food Co.,
or
volunteers
and
student
managers would take home
what was left. In the past
year, the program hired a full-
time manager to help achieve
GAP certification, and ever
since, the Campus Farm has
sold much of its produce to
the University dining halls
and the Ross Business School
Executive Suite.
“I feel like the cool thing
about the farm selling to the
dining halls is that it’s full
circle, almost like we grow the
food that we eat,” Sharp said.
“We grow food for students,
and the students that come out
and volunteer grow food for
other students.”
Katie
Samra,
another
school yeat student manager,
tells me that every Sunday
at noon, when the Campus
Farm sends out its emails
detailing the harvest list for
the coming week, MDining
is often the first to respond,
within a matter of minutes.
The program even helped the
University
dining
program
achieve its goal of sourcing at
least 25 percent of its produce
from local, sustainable options.
***
As weekly volunteers mill
about — some experienced
gardeners and some first-time
freshmen — student managers
implore them to wash their
hands. This is food to be
harvested, bought and sold,
after all.
Groups
are
made
and
volunteers are split up: Some
will help with the weeding,
some will help to clean up
around the farm and some
will
actually
help
harvest
the
crops.
The
latter
are
then taken aside for a long
instruction period about food
handling,
cleanliness
and
safety by Jeremy, the recent
full-time hire; the Campus
Farm places a great deal of
importance on cleanliness and
good agricultural practice.
In the first plot, there are
rows upon rows of tomatoes,
peppers and lettuce mixes.
In the hoop house — recently
built, and of which there will
be two more very soon — is an
assortment of kale and chard.
The farm isn’t like one you’re
used to; it’s smaller, more
compact. But it is impressively
well-maintained — and quite a
sight to behold.
***
Christian Mackey, a first-
year Masters student in the
School of Public Health, is
a program director for the
Student Food Co., which is
an organization dedicated to
making
produce
affordable
and convenient for students on
campus. As one of the Campus
Farm’s main buyers, SFC has
been, in Mackey’s experience,
nothing but impressed with
the program’s success.
“They not only help us in
making food affordable, but
they really help us in the side
mission of ours, which is the
promotion of sustainability,”
he said. “Their practices are
all organic and the fact that
our partnership gives us a
really convenient source of
high-quality organic goods is
invaluable to us.”
Student Food Co. — which
doesn’t process any produce,
and only sells whole, uncut
fruits and vegetables — began
partnering with Campus Farm
last year, and it now sells their
produce twice a week in Mason
Hall.
“It’s felt like a growing
movement
since
I’ve
been
with them, and the academic
side of food is starting to grow
here at U of M,” he said. “It’s
a relationship we want to keep
up.”
It is quite remarkable, too,
to consider how much work
goes into maintaining and
running a successful farm,
especially as students with
classes,
extracurriculars
and other jobs. The fact that
they’ve achieved this level
of self-sustaining success in
such a short period of time
is downright impressive. But
Sharp says it never feels like a
job to her.
“It’s my favorite part of
every week,” she said. “I just
think it’s important to get out
in nature, so I love going out to
the farm — and I definitely got
a community out of it.
***
The
students
who
volunteered to help weeding
are crouched on their knees in
the main plot, plucking leaves
that look — to the untrained eye
— nearly indistinguishable from
the crops to harvest. It’s hot out,
but they’re having fun, and they
look committed.
So
does
everyone
here.
The harvesting group listens
intently and seriously to the
instructions about cleanliness
before
steadfastly
cleaning
their hands and heading over to
the hoop house. A volunteer —
presumably a regular — pulls out
a couple of poster mock-ups to
help advertise the Campus Farm
around campus.
Mackey tells me, “I know that
when I go to the farm I feel an
emotion that is similar to things
that people would traditionally
call art.” It sounds a bit cheesy,
but it makes sense in context.
It’s an experiment that’s paid
off, a model of DIY hard work by
students, for students. You could
definitely call it art.
FOOD
COURTESY OF THE CAMPUS FARM
Food: It comes from the
ground at Campus Farm
How often do you wonder where your food is coming from? The
ground? Sometimes. But only if it’s from the Campus Farm
NABEEL CHOLLAMPAT
Senior Arts Editor
Deftly
manicured
rows of crops,
a full, working
hoop house, an
abundance of
hoses watering
plants
A volunteer
pulls out a
couple of poster
mock-ups to
help advertise
the Campus
Farm around
campus
But no matter
what your opinion
is on this type
of sound, there
is no denying
the passion and
resourcefulness
behind these
underground
explorations of
artistic expression
STEPS TO DIY
1.CHECKERED VANS
2. SOUNDCLOUD RAP
3. SKATEBOARDS, BUT ONLY
WHEN SAD
4. CUTS OWN HAIR WITH CHILD
SCISSORS
5. SOUNDCLOUD
6. DEATH GRIPS
E-mail arts@michigandaily.com for more helpful tips, tricks and
lists