6A — Wednesday, September 11, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
By Ed Sessa
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
09/11/19
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
09/11/19
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Wednesday, September 11, 2019
ACROSS
1 Braying beast
4 “Diamonds &
Rust” folk singer
Joan
8 Hop, skip and
jump
14 Where lowers lie
15 Ready and willing
partner
16 “Booksmart”
director Wilde
17 Psychedelic
decorative light
19 Beaus
20 Savory taste
21 Board game
gadget
23 University of
Nevada city
24 Not even a little
high
27 Set up
29 Chinese “way”
30 Aqua in Aquitaine
31 Whoopi’s Oscar
role in “Ghost”
34 Palm fruit
35 New York
waterway
38 Leaning
40 OTC antacid
brand
41 Possess
42 Notable time
span
44 EPA mandates,
taken together
48 Structure
renamed for a
president in 1947
52 Arp contemporary
53 Behind
54 Type, as data
55 Develop a liking
for
57 Simon &
Garfunkel hit, and
hint to the starts
of 17-, 24-, 48- ...
and 35-Across,
too!
59 Gobsmacked
60 Story of life after
death?
61 Quaint “Tsk!”
62 Zealous crusades
63 Letters on
Broadway-bound
letters
64 Craze
DOWN
1 Magnetism
2 Ship captains,
e.g.
3 Eminent scholar
4 Lingerie brand
5 Justice league?:
Abbr.
6 Nightmare loc.
of film
7 Youngest Marx
brother
8 Eye part
9 Mets slugger
Pete who won
the 2019 Home
Run Derby
10 Video-sharing
site
11 Dominate
12 Brazilian vacay
destination
13 Prof’s helpers
18 Kissy-kissy
22 Doctor in
training
24 Places for scrubs
and wraps
25 “Mangia!”
26 Poe’s “The
Murders in the __
Morgue”
28 Do the math
32 “Amadeus”
subject
33 Actress
Gasteyer
34 Unscrambling
device
35 Jewish Festival
of Lights
36 Checkout
counter unit
37 Shark or Dyson,
briefly
38 Short cut
39 __ Jima
42 Worked on
text
43 Repairs, as
infield grass
45 Fire
46 Pianist de
Larrocha
47 Signaled slyly
49 Gibbons of TV
talk
50 __ Sanders, only
athlete to play in
both the Super
Bowl and World
Series
51 Sheikdom of song
54 “Roar” singer
Perry
55 __ Mahal
56 Mate, across the
Channel
58 60 secs.
DEF JAM RECORDINGS / GETTY IMAGES
“God damn, man-child,” pens Lana Del Rey in her love
letter to America — fitting, perhaps, within the contemporary
culture of “fuckbois,” casual hookups and sneakerheads. Del
Rey’s latest album, however, is no feminist rage against the
patriarchy. No, Norman Fucking Rockwell! is all at once a
condemnation and celebration of American culture; an ode
to the complex, bittersweet history of the “American Dream.”
Disregarding layers of thematic symbolism and metaphor,
the album itself is a walk down memory lane. Del Rey’s
style has always held an a vintage flair, from her slow,
traipsing vocals to the timeless quality of her songs. Del Rey
often appears to be old beyond her years, as if a ghost from
centuries past inhabits her body, rather than a young woman
of the 21st century.
Throughout the album, Del Rey recalls artists and
genres from throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. The
opening of her first track, “Norman fucking Rockwell,”
is reminiscent of classic Hollywood soundtracks with its
flowing orchestration. “Fuck It, I Love You” echoes the big-
band era, borrowing from Doris Day’s “Dream a Little Dream
of Me.” Del Rey’s “Doin’ Time,” a cover of the Sublime’s 1996
song by the same name, recalls both the music from the end
of the 1990s and the artistry of George Gerswhin, whose
piece “Summertime” is sampled in the song. “The Next Best
American Record” references Led Zeppelin’s “Houses of the
Holy,” further reinforced by the track “The Greatest,” where
Del Rey croons “Me and my friends, we miss rock n’ roll.” By
the end of the album, Del Rey has given us a grand tour on the
history of American music
and culture.
But
where
the
album
shines isn’t simply in its
extensive
name-dropping
of
other
prolific
artists.
No, Lana Del Rey can stand
confidently
on
her
own
two musical feet, no piggy-
backing necessary. Rather,
this
walk
down
memory
lane
provides
momentum
for
an
overarching,
far
more important theme: the
simultaneous
oppression
and empowerment of the
American Dream.
Del Rey sets the scene
by evoking the legacy of
Norman
Rockwell,
both
in the title of the album,
the titular song and by
referencing
his
name
throughout
the
fourteen
tracks. Rockwell, a popular
artist throughout the 20th century, made his career through
illustrations which depicted domestic scenes of American
everyday life. Through his art, Rockwell captured the very
essence of the American Dream. However, these works,
unsurprisingly, focused on the greener side of the grass,
romanticizing much of the true American experience.
In reality, the American Dream excluded many from its
idealistic embrace. The dark underbelly absent from much of
Rockwell’s artist works was — and still is — characterized by
rampant racism, poverty, drug use, inequality and more. In
fact, it was Rockwell’s idealism of American daily life which
earned him varying degrees of condemnation from critics,
despite his popularity and success. Thus, Rockwell’s legacy
recalls not only what is evident in his artwork, but more so
what is absent from his work.
Wielding Rockwell’s legacy as her own painter’s brush, Del
Rey explores both the American Dream, and its ever-present
shadow of nightmare. This comparison is consistent throughout
her every song; Del Rey sings of dysfunctional, often toxic,
relationships, echoing the duality of the American dream and
the American people’s love-hate relationship with its mythic
ideal. This is further emphasized through the album’s striking
lyrics. In “Venice Bitch” Del Rey sings, “You’re beautiful
and I’m insane / We’re American-made,” referencing how
the American
Dream
has
been a sort of
ever-present
torment:
always just out
of reach, but
close
enough
to taste.
The American Dream, while a grand standard to strive
for, has always been poisoned by its diminishing tangibility.
“Fuck It, I Love You” reaffirms this. “Maybe the way that
I’m living is killing me” — whether it be back-breaking work
for a livelihood afforded to only the lucky few, or the self-
destructive rebellion that followed post-’50s disallusionment,
the American Dream often has inspired more harm than good.
Yet at the same time, Del Rey’s emotional, provoking
exploration of the American Dream in itself confirms that
she, like everyone, cannot help but be hypnotized by this
distant shore. Even in her criticism, Del Rey simultaneously
celebrates America in all its glory and shame. Just as love and
hate are said to walk the same thin line, so too does desire
and rejection of the American dream exist on two sides of the
same coin.
As a conclusion hovers over the final lines of this review,
one thing becomes starkly apparent: Despite all these words
strung together in an attempt to express the pure, radiating
power of Lana Del Rey, there is so much more to say. With
every replay of the album, more and more is unpacked within
Del Rey’s masterful singing and imaginative lyrics. Complete
comprehension of Norman Fucking Rockwell! may very well be
just as unattainable as that beautiful, cruel American dream.
But the thing about Lana Del Rey is that understanding is
irrelevant to enjoy the hypnotic, spine-tingling power of her
music.
So, go take a well-deserved listen to Del Rey’s new release.
Call it a mandatory exercise of patriotism, if this review
isn’t motivating enough. In true American spirit, bring your
speakers, find a lawn chair somewhere sunny and grab an
ice-cold Coke, because “baby, remember, I’m not drinking
wine / But that Cherry Coke you serve is fine.”
American dreaming in Lana Del Rey’s latest album:
The swings and sways of Norman Fucking Rockwell!
ALBUM REVIEW
MADELEINE VIRGINIA GANNON
Daily Arts Writer
POLYDOR & INTERSCOPE RECORDS
Norman Fucking Rockwell!
Lana Del Rey
Polydor & Interscope Records
Returning to Ann Arbor this past
week for my senior year has caused me to
reflect upon my first fall in Ann Arbor.
Coming from a small town in Florida, I
knew I was about to be inserted into a
very different environment, but I had no
idea how different it was going to be.
My town had a relatively small local
music scene; cover bands played at bars
every Friday and Saturday night but
that was about all that I knew of. I was
ready to get involved in a college music
scene, but because I didn’t know a soul
in the state of Michigan, I really didn’t
know what to do in order to get involved.
Then, someone that I met through some
huge Facebook page, who would later go
on to become one of my closest friends
freshman year, invited me to go to a
show for a local emo/pop-punk band,
Seaholm. They sent me an address, and
said that music was going to start around
8:00 p.m. or so.
I showed up at around five after
eight, terrified that I was going to be
late and miss the concert, and was
immediately terrified. There were so
many faces I didn’t know, all dressed in
shirts for bands I had never heard of. I
was nervously anticipating someone to
prompt me with the classic, “Who do
you know here,” but luckily, I finally
found my friend and we made our way
to the basement where Christmas lights
hung across the ceiling like a line of
frozen fireflies.
We stood right in the front for the
entire night, listening to loud chaotic
guitars
accompanying
the
moaning
vocals that flooded the room. But
somehow, it still felt inimiate. It felt
unapologetically Midwestern to me.
There’s a subgenre of emo music called
“Midwestern emo” that’s known for open
tuned, twinkly guitars and lyrics about
growing up and melancholy. People
often think this music sounds juvenile,
but I don’t think that’s a negative thing.
Standing in that basement listening to
people I never knew sing about feelings,
I felt myself coming into this strange,
foreign place.
As the crowd started to disperse after
the final set of the night, my friend
and I approached the current singer/
guitarist for Seaholm, and tried not to
fangirl as we complimented them on
their set. I had been to very few concerts
outside of the realm of jazz, classical
and the occasional big name rock band,
so being able to just walk up to band
members seemed like an insane concept.
However, Jake and the rest of the band
members were incredibly nice and told
us to come to more shows, giving us
some information on the scene and just
making polite conversation with two
wide-eyed freshman.
As I walked out of the venue, I saw
people sitting on the porch talking, joking
and hanging out as the night started
to emit the magical sort of presence it
has in the fall. This was the first “DIY”
event I had ever been to, and I can pretty
confidently say that if I hadn’t gone to
that event, I probably would have had a
very different collegiate experience. As I
plunged into the local music scene more
and more, I realized how creative Ann
Arbor really is, and how many distinct
and diverse ways there are to express
yourself.
So, if you’re a freshman and you’re
reading this: Go to a show. Even if you
don’t know anyone. Even if you have a
9:00 am the next day. Even if you don’t
like the bands playing. Even if you
don’t like music. Shows like these don’t
happen anywhere else in the world, and
they really are a special experience that
I hope everyone can enjoy.
Cox’s Corner: On Midwestern emo
COX’S CORNER
RYAN COX
Daily DIY Columnist
As I walked out of
the venue, I saw
people sitting on the
porch talking, joking
and hanging out as
the night started to
emit the magical sort
of presence it has in
the fall
Lana Del Rey can stand confidently
on her own two musical feet, no
piggy-backing necessary