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November 22, 2019 - Image 5

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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, November 22, 2019 — 5

Avant-garde
British
singer
FKA
Twigs returned with her first project in
four years on Friday, Nov. 8. The highly-
anticipated Magdalene is a glimpse into
the distorted interiority of FKA Twigs,
a masterful depiction of the connection
between pain and beauty.
The release of Magdalene comes a few
years on the heels of a well-publicized
breakup
with
former
vampire
Robert
Pattinson
and
about
a year after
FKA
Twigs
revealed that
she
suffers
from
fibroid
tumors. In fact,
the struggle of
dealing
with
the
pain
of
heartbreak
and
physical
afflictions
while
under
the public gaze is discussed in a few
places across the album (most notably
“thousand eyes” and “cellophane”). The
emotions on display are so intimate and
imbued with jagged resonance that at
times it feels wrong, almost intrusive,
to be listening to the album, as though
you’re reading pages out of someone’s
post-breakup diary.
The album’s title refers to Mary
Magdalene,
a
devoted
follower
of
Jesus who has
developed
a
widespread,
inaccurate
reputation
as
a
repentant
prostitute
due
to
centuries
of
ecclesiastical
confusion.
She
is
representative of both the vitriol with
which the sexuality of women is treated
by Western institutions as well as how
information and communication can
be corrupted through compounding
misunderstandings.
Both
of
these
connotations play a role on Magdalene.
FKA Twigs certainly does not shy away
from sexual themes (e.g. her references
to masturbation on “daybed”), and many
of the songs about romantic relationships

revolve around her struggles with
reciprocity
and
misunderstandings:
a similar gradual decay of truth that
led to Mary Magdalene’s promiscuous
reputation leads to disintegration and
heartache for FKA Twigs: “I didn’t know
you were lonely / If you’d have just told
me, I’d be home with you.”
In spite of the overall strength of the
project, certain tracks manage to stand
out even in comparison to the rest of the
album: “fallen alien” is a stunning, acerbic
reflection upon a failing relationship
featuring
some of the
most creative
production
on
the
project,
and
“cellophane”
is an aching
ballad draped
in detuned, icy
piano.
The
production
is handled by
an
eclectic
collection
of
eminent
artists,
including the
likes of Skrillex, Oneohtrix Point Never
and Jack Antonoff (as well as FKA Twigs
herself). Perhaps the guest producer with
the most evident influence on the overall
sound of the record is Nicolas Jaar, whose
creative sound design and use of empty
space is fundamental to the cold, glitchy
emotional resonance of the project.
In my experience as a music critic, I
have found it much easier to discuss bad
albums
than
good albums.
This
is
not
because I enjoy
being cruel or
derisive (quite
the
opposite)
but
because
I
am
lazy.
Bad
albums
tend
to
be
bad in similar and identifiable ways,
whereas good albums tend to be, by their
nature, idiosyncratic and very difficult
to describe or dissect in a way that feels
sufficient. The emotions conveyed by
an excellent project such as Magdalene
are impossible to convert back to mere
language. The album’s exploration of
internal disjunction and its relation
to anxiety, fatigue and love is deeply
impressive, and I hope you enjoy it as
much as I do.

FKA’s masterpiece

ALBUM REVIEW

JONAH MENDELSON
Daily Arts Writer

Reading Sharon Olds’s “Arias” is quite the adventure, albeit
an adventure for which Olds does not provide a map. “Arias”
refers to the alphabetized collection of poems depicting
anything from emotionally-draining memories of hardships
Olds has incurred
in her 76 years to
obscure tangents
that seem to be
the product of a
wandering brain
late
at
night.
Olds’s balance of
vivid description
alongside
eye-
catching
but
not
pretentious
literary
experimentation
helps the majority
of
her
poems
shine in their own
right.
Unfortunately,
Olds’s
presentation of her poems often falls flat. As a result of the
poems that pack in around them, the more exceptional poems
often don’t reach their potential. Since these poems, or arias,
are alphabetized, they have a thematic consistency emulating
the composition of a thoroughly shuffled deck of cards. Olds is
no novice author; this was a deliberate decision with calculated
effects. The reader wears a hyperactive mood ring as they
progress from one poem to the next, often amplifying the
emotional impact of each poem as it varies so heavily from the
last. When this technique works, it exemplifies the evocative
power of literature. Olds eloquently executes this transition in
the few pages between “Mortal Aria” and “Object Permanence
Aria.” One moment, Olds is depicting the heart wrenching
final stages of her late partner’s battle with cancer, the
simultaneous planning for his death and longing for his youth
that she experienced in the days leading up to his passing.
Olds’s recollection of her partner’s youth prepares the reader
for the more innocent portrayal of Olds herself as a young child
in the subsequent aria, where Olds describes the moment in
which she understands that her mother still exists when she
exits the room — that her mother’s being doesn’t orbit her own.
A chronological organization of these poems would not have
granted “Object Permanence Aria” the same magnitude of
innocence, as the poem’s tone may have been diluted by that of
similar recollections of early childhood.
But this desired effect does not always materialize. In fact,

getting through certain portions of the
collection can be outright frustrating.
In one poem, Olds reflects on her
relationship with her father and considers
the various forms in which love may
manifest itself. Then, without warning,
Olds depicts an eerily realistic scene
— one of a toilet flushing after a bowel
movement.
Although
she relates this scene
to
the
upbringing
of her children and
perhaps uses it as a
metaphor for a turn for
the worse in her later
years,
its
inclusion
and lingering takes the
sting out of the more
emotion-ridden poem
preceding it. This is
a
recurring
theme
among the arias. At
times,
Olds
wholly
exits the territory of
vividness and enters
that of the jarringly
explicit. While a reader aspires to hear the
unadulterated version of a poet’s mind and
vision, few aspire to read “the gathers and folds of the asshole”
in the same sentence as “like a child at a petting zoo.” Moments
like these reflect the hiccups in consistency that hold Olds back
from an immaculate work. Olds’s attempts to push the limits
of poetic norms
are
valiant;
innovation
would
never
happen
without
experimentation.
But Olds’s edgier
instances
of
experimentation
simply
do
not
work.
While
tangents
and
comic relief can
be
refreshing,
at
times
their
inclusion
seems
poorly
deliberated,
serving to derail
a previously well-worked narrative instead of contributing to
it.
By removing overt, inter-poem relatability, Olds actually

supplies an additional layer of realism — her structure begins to
reflect the curious organization of the human psyche. Everyone
has obscure memories that, no matter how aged or insignificant,
do not fade. The human brain is not a pristine filing cabinet of
memories organized by date or theme. There is rarely a rhyme
or reason to reminisce. One could only imagine this effect
amplifying
as
one’s
inventory
of
memories
expands over
nearly
eight
decades.
Olds’s
spontaneous
and
thematically
inconsistent
recollection
of
events
sacrifices
an
even
flow
between
poems
to
obtain
an
authentic and unfiltered glimpse into her mind. But without
access to Olds’s mind, “Arias” requires multiple readings to
offer more than just this glimpse.

The enigmatic organization of reminiscence in ‘Arias’

BOOK REVIEW

ANDREW PLUTA
Daily Arts Writer

FACEBOOK

Since I began writing this column, I have mainly used
it to express my views on things that I love or facets of
the entertainment industry that have left me grumbling
for one reason or another. Many of those articles have
mentioned “Star Wars” in some capacity. I like “Star Wars”
a lot. I always have. Over the past year or so I have tried
hard to branch into different parts of the entertainment
industry, writing about Spotify, podcasts and the Chinese
marketplace just to name a few. It’s been a long time since
I went back to the old “Star Wars” well. But in a few short
weeks “The Rise of Skywalker” will be released in theaters,
ostensibly a final conclusion to the story that began a long
time ago in a decade far far away, and I would be remiss
if I didn’t get my two cents in before all is said and done.
I’ve argued time and time again in these pages that the
ending of a story is what defines its meaning. The curious
thing about “Star Wars” is that it has already ended.
Twice. In 1983, “Return of the Jedi” brought the original
trilogy to a conclusion that left audiences thinking “Star
Wars” was about the redemptive power of love and the
relationship between a father and a son. In 2005, “Revenge
of the Sith” brought the prequels to a close and in doing so
redefined the then six-part saga as the tragedy of Anakin
Skywalker. Now “The Rise of Skywalker” will seek to put
its own stamp on the story George Lucas told and, in turn,
must justify the Disney trilogy’s entire existence.
It feels like a lifetime ago that Disney first bought
Lucas film and announced that there was to be more
“Star Wars” and yet,
as it so often goes, it
also seems as if the
years
in
between
have gone by much
too
quickly.
When
“The Force Awakens”
was released, I was a
senior in high school.
I actually got into
Michigan the same
day the film came out.
Driving back from
the movie theater, I
pulled into the park
by
Barton
Pond,
loaded
Wolverine
Access on my friends
phone and heard the
news. My time at
Michigan will forever
be linked with the
time
these
movies
came out. Now the last movie in the trilogy is coming,
and as the future of “Star Wars” once again becomes
uncertain, so too has my own. Unlike senior year of high
school, I don’t know exactly where I’m going to be next
year. I don’t know what kind of job I will have or who I will
be living with. But I know I’m glad that I took the journey.
Glad that I’ve had the experiences I’ve had at Michigan,
that I got to see what it was like for your team to go to
the Final Four while you were in school and what it was
like to anticipate a “Star Wars” movie. The anticipation of

these movies cannot be discounted; If nothing else, I have
deeply enjoyed the experience of wondering what was to
come. The number of conversations I had after “The Force
Awakens” about Rey’s parentage and what Luke was up
to were among the best times I can remember as a fan of
“Star Wars.”
So what do I expect to see out of the final movie? I expect
it to be exciting, fun, maybe a little bit sad. After “The Last
Jedi” I’ve learned to let go of what I want these films to be,
and just take them or leave them for what they are. That’s
not to say that I’ve come around to thinking that “The Last
Jedi” is a good “Star Wars” movie (some things can never
be redeemed), but it means that I will not enter this new
movie with the expectation that anything in particular
happen at all. That’s not what I’m here for anymore. For
me at least, it’s no longer just about the movie itself. It’s the
lead up to it, the weekly re-watching of all the movies in my
student house, the intense discussion right after we leave
the theater, the thrill of seeing a movie with a huge crowd
on opening night, that communal viewing experience we
so rarely get in this age of Netflix and Disney+. It’s not
just about going to see the movie, it’s about the people you
see it with. The best stories were meant to be shared with
others. No matter what I think of the Disney “Star Wars”
movies, I will be forever grateful for the opportunity they
gave me and so many people I love to have a meaningful
theater experience together. I have cherished each and
every opening night. And so as we approach this final
chapter of the Skywalker Saga I think not just about how
this chapter of my favorite film series will come to a close,
but how this chapter of my own life will soon come to a
close as well.
So
many
people
have asked me what
I’m
planning
to
do next year. It’s a
good question; after
all,
I
have
many
friends from the film
department
who
graduated last year
who still don’t know
what to do. But that
question
does
not
interest me. Not right
this
moment.
Not
when Michigan still
has a final shot at
Ohio State. Not when
I have two papers due
in the next two days.
Not when I can still
get that experience
of seeing new yellow
text roll across the
screen to booming John Williams music for the first time.
Not when there are still old classmates to reconnect with,
parties to hold, study spaces to uncover, stories to tell,
adventures yet to be had. Not when I only have six more
months of living in a home with six of my best friends. The
question that interests me is not “what are you going to do
next year,” but rather, “what are you doing right now?” To
that I simply answer the same way C3PO did in the final
trailer for the final “Star Wars.” I’m taking one last look
at my friends.

My senior goodbye to ‘Star Wars’

ENTERTAINMENT COLUMN

IAN HARRIS
Daily Entertainment Columnist

YOUNG TURKS RECORDINGS LTD. / YOUTUBE

MAGDALENE

FKA Twigs

Young Turks

Arias

Sharon Olds

Knopf

Oct. 15, 2019

By removing overt, inter-poem relatability,
Olds actually supplies an additional layer of
realism — her structure begins to reflect the
curious organization of the human psyche.

My time at Michigan will forever
be linked with the times these
movies came out. Now the last
movie in the trilogy is coming and
as the future of “Star Wars” once
again becomes uncertain, so too
has my own.

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