KARSH 100

BOSTON, Mass. (11/24/2008) -- Sunday is a day for art. Deciding to venture into the Museum of Fine Arts on a frigid afternoon in Boston seemed like a unique idea, one that only I could have conjured up. Yet, as the warmth of the heating system in the building sucked me into the foyer of the MFA, it was surprising to discover the volume of people within the walls of the museum.

Knowing my purpose for trekking through the cold that afternoon, I wasted no time heading straight through the West Wing of the museum, past the bookstore and the Galleria to the Rabb Gallery. It was then that I reached my destination: a world captured by Karsh.

Canadian photographer Yousuf Karsh was one of the few humans that had the opportunity during his lifetime to play God. Karsh once said that it was “his goal to photograph the great in spirit, whether they be famous or humble.” And that’s exactly what he did.

Walking through the exhibit, it is easy to feel as if one is attending the Oscars, showcased on the walls are the most famous celebrities throughout the past century. Karsh seems to have photographed everyone who was ever anyone; his pieces range from portraits of Pablo Picasso to Audrey Hepburn.

Through the lens of his camera, Karsh shot negatives of history’s stars such a Jacques Cousteau and Eleanor Roosevelt. Yet, in the gallery, these celebrities hang side by side with a simple portrait of Karsh’s own wife, Estrellita. This is a form of realism that is unique to Karsh’s work. The humanity of the famous is something that is often forgotten, and for that reason, Karsh’s portraits resonated deeply with his audience.

Karsh did not take pictures by merely clicking the button of his Kodak camera. Karsh was an artist in all aspects of his profession. His professionalism was deeply rooted in his character. The National Portrait Gallery depicts Karsh as an internationally renowned photographer, but nonetheless, a gentleman. He put his subjects at ease while he photographed them—allowing him to produce the most accurate depictions possible.

The Museum of Fine Arts states, “Privileged individuals trusted Karsh to record their likeliness in a way that would protect their reputation.” Because of his way with people, Karsh photographed over 15,000 sittings throughout the course of his career. He always chose to present his sitters in the most formal manner, gaining him respect from his subjects that boosted his own reputation.

Walking through the gallery past portrait after portrait of celebrities, it is easy to see why Karsh’s work is so well loved. His images are sharp, so precisely focused that each print almost blinds the eye upon first glance. Every portrait is done black and white print, Karsh’s work revealing an aspect of the man’s character. Karsh did not emphasize the color of the subject’s skin, hair, or clothing. He looked at the inside of the individual and at his or her character.

The one painting that does pop out from amidst the sea of black and white is a portrait of the actress, Sophia Loren. Completed in 1981, it is a Chromogenic print, rich in color. The photo captures the delighted face of the actress, smiling from under a crimson wide-brimmed hat. Loren is depicted only in the bottom third of the portrait, leaving the other two thirds of the photo, black, empty space. The museum text alongside the portrait explains that the color in the print was necessary for the portrait’s replication in Life, Time, and Newsweek magazines, but it was not Karsh’s medium of choice.

The detailed beauty of all of Karsh’s portraits is found not only in the medium that he chose or in the outwardly aesthetic, but also in the inner spirit of each of his subjects. Karsh often focused on the face of his subject, dramatically lighting each visage with artificial light. This depicts Karsh’s fascination with the “inward power” of his sitters, as he later wrote in a memoir.

CBS News did a “60 Minutes” episode on Karsh in 1977 that traced his successful 60-year career as a photographer. The show’s host, Morley Safer, emphasized Karsh’s great love for the artists that he photographed.

Safer said that Karsh was enthralled with people’s faces and the stories that they told. “To Karsh, their greatness was the greatness if historical continuity,” said Safer.

Yousuf Karsh had his own history to tell; perhaps that is why he is so quick to capture the history of the subjects that he photographs.

Karsh arrived in Halifax, Canada in 1925, a 17-year old boy all on his own. He was an Armenian immigrant, escaping Turkish persecution and genocide to find a new life in North America.

Karsh writes in his own brief autobiography, “My first glimpse of the New World on a steely, cold sunny winter day was the Halifax wharf, covered in snow. I could not yet begin to imagine the infinite promise of this new land.”

The young immigrant grew up to be one of the most defined photographers of the 20^th century, but he left behind a sad childhood, one that he never forgot. “My recollection of those days comprise a strange mixture of blood and beauty, of persecution and peace,” said Karsh. His past haunted him throughout his career.

It is that balance of blood and beauty that Karsh freezes within each of his portraits; for a second the past surfaces in the face of the portrait’s subject, regardless of who the subject is or what story he or she holds.

The first of his Karsh’s portraits depicts Winston Churchill, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Taken in 1941 during a visit Churchill paid to Canada, the photo shows Churchill’s hostility on the occasion. According to the museum, Churchill had not been previously informed that he was required to sit for a portrait. He therefore, took out a fat cigar and began to smoke. After asking him politely to refrain from smoking, Karsh forcefully removed the cigar from Churchill’s mouth. The resulting portrait is one of defiance and the “indomitable spirit of the statesman and his besieged country.”

Hanging alongside Churchill, many fifty other black and white Gelatin silver prints hang with austerity. American President Dwight D. Eisenhower stares at the passerby with piercing eyes; Cuban Prime Minister Fidel Castro’s unwieldy beard fills the bottom half of his portrait and seems eccentric and wild next to First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy’s regal pose in all white.

Throughout the 20^th century, Karsh took over 150,000 photographic negatives, each unique by the nature of the diversity of his subjects. Many of the portraits are displayed in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts’ Rabb Gallery exhibition, titled “Karsh 100: A Biography in Images.”

By CATHERINE MOORE (camoore@bu.edu)

Finding Community

BOSTON, Mass. (11/24/2008) -- Ethan Rubin does not believe in the Christian God, per se. Instead, Rubin believes that God is a “sort of infinite sum of being.” He believes that all religions are seeking the same thing.

Rubin’s unconventional beliefs don’t stop him, however, from waking up for an eight a.m. Sunday morning church service every week. A junior enrolled in Boston University’s College of Arts and Sciences, Rubin plays bass guitar in a church worship band in Brockton, Massachusetts.

Rubin, 20, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania is also one of over 45 students from all over the Boston region who participates in the Inner Strength Gospel Choir. Although the group meets and performs at Boston University’s Marsh Chapel, it is not strictly for BU students. Religious belief is also optional. Participation is not.

Choir director and chapel staff member, Herbert Jones, said that personal faith does not always determine an individual’s dedication to the choir. Jones said that Rubin is one of the most reliable, consistent members of the crew.

“He’s actually been more faithful and more committed than some of the choir members,” said Jones.

Rubin, wearing a fire engine red t-shirt with a chainsaw manual printed on the front that reads, “Lumber assassin,” plays the bass guitar. He has been actively involved with music since age six.

The son of Dr. Emanuel Rubin and Dr. Linda Haegle, Rubin was always encouraged to pursue music. On his sixth birthday, he was told that it was “time to choose an instrument.” Rubin decided on playing the violin. Always up for a new challenge he transitioned to the mandolin by the time he was 12.

While taking mandolin lessons from a violin teacher with a background in classical jazz, Rubin became hooked on the bass. He likes how everything with the bass is so much more relaxed and less symmetrical than the violin. He said that he could relax more, when playing guitar.

“It’s easy to move things around and change key,” said Rubin, demonstrating the way he changes chords with his left hand on the fingerboard of the guitar. Rubin moves with the ease of someone who is handling the familiar.

And Rubin likes things that are familiar. Comfort is something that he seeks in all aspects of his life. That’s why he’s come back for a third year as a member of the Inner Strength Gospel Choir.

“The choir is probably the only reason that I’m still at BU,” said Rubin. “The only place that I felt at home was the choir, people were happy to see me here.”

According to Herbert Jones, that’s one of the unique aspects of the group. Jones said that the choir brings people together and gives them a sense of community. “A lot of people come from different singing backgrounds, not only in church,” said Jones. “The choir allows them to express themselves and to find an anchor and their place on campus.”

John Mason, a sophomore geology major at Tufts University-- eleven miles outside Boston-- is just now finding his anchor in the choir. Saturday afternoon is his first practice as a member of the Inner Strength Gospel Choir. Recruited to play tenor saxophone in the group, Mason is excited to join a choir such as this.

“I’m kinda religious too,” Mason said, adding that the group will provide religious meaning, as well as community involvement. “I don’t know. I just play music. I try to play as much as I can.”

Rubin and Mason, after meeting ten minutes prior, are already in deep conversation as they set up their instruments for rehearsal. The Inner Strength Gospel Choir is preparing for their annual winter performance Friday, November 21, but the boys are not discussing the concert. Rubin, making small talk with comfort and ease, is helping the newcomer, Mason, feel right at home.

As Rubin plugs in his amp and adjusts the knob on the speakers, he tells Mason how he randomly ended up sitting in the recording studio of the band The Roots, while back in Philly. “It was crazy,” said Rubin. “Wow, that’s dope,” Mason said with a grin.

Rubin, always fascinated with music, has chosen not to make a professional career out of playing the bass.

“In the last three years at college, one of the things I figured out is that I actually don’t want to go into music professionally,” said Rubin. “Not because I don’t love it, more the opposite really. I realized that I don’t want it to become the kind of obligation that I wouldn’t be free to enjoy the way I do now.”

Director Jones says that Rubin is a welcome member of the choir and since he joined the group, he has helped create a new “sound for the choir.”

With his black, thick-rimmed glasses and a gauge earring through each ear, Rubin sets his own individual tone, as well. He likes to listen to music groups such as Brahms, 2pac, and the Dead Milkmen; his favorite movie repertoire includes Full Metal Jacket, the Hustler, and Pulp Fiction; and his favorite thing to eat is steak, in Rubin’s words, there’s “no contest” there.

The son of a pathologist and an oncologist, Rubin was 15 days old when a live-in nanny named Carmela entered his life. He remains in close contact with Carmela and visits her every time he returns home. Carmela taught Rubin to speak in Spanish, a skill that has proven to be beneficial in multiple aspects of his life. She also helped shape Rubin’s faith and his ethical standards.

“I can credit her (Carmela) with a lot of the moral fiber I like to think I have now,” said Rubin. “She always stressed things like hard work, honesty, and kindness.”

Rubin says that Carmela also shared a lot of her culture and beliefs with him and his brother. “She (Carmela) was one of the first to pique my interest in religion,” said Rubin, something his parents never paid much attention to. “I remember being a little kid and sitting on the bed with her when she did her rosary at night, and being impressed with how sincere her faith was.”

With a love for travel and a desire to see Carmela’s home country, Rubin studied abroad this past summer in Argentina. Due to his bilingual capabilities, he has chosen to add a minor in Spanish to his undergraduate philosophy major. He says that he owes this all to Carmela and he will always be grateful to her.

However, Rubin says that he has yet to satisfy his continuous travel itch and he plans to attend graduate school in either Scotland or England in the fall of 2010. He likes the idea of picking a random location and moving there for a time. That’s the type of kid he is.

“I’ve known Ethan (Rubin) for three years. He just showed up to choir practice one day his freshman year,” said Jones. “I’m not even sure how he heard about it. He was good, so we tried to keep him around.”

As Rubin and Mason tune their instruments and Jones takes his place at the piano bench, a group of students sitting on the center pews of the chapel begin to clap their hands to the music.

One soloist stands in the front of the imaginary congregation, rehearsing his number for Friday’s concert. The soloist shouts out, “Lord, you are my shepherd!” The chorus responds, the forsaken textbooks and schoolwork on the student’s laps bounce up and down as they clap their hands and join the song of worship.

Rubin, positioned behind Herb’s left shoulder, hovers over the pianist. Strumming a steady beat on the bass, he maintains his own rhythm despite the many pauses in the choral number.

Unfazed by the actions of his choral peers, Rubin runs a hand through his shaggy blonde hair and continues to pluck away at the strings. Reliable, Consistent, and methodical, Rubin strums to his own beat.

By CATHERINE MOORE (camoore@bu.edu)

Double-Ew

By CATHERINE MOORE, camoore@bu.edu

BOSTON, Mass. (11/3/2008) -- George W. Bush is the type of guy you want to sit down and have a beer with. At least that’s the message Republican political strategist Karl Rove wanted to portray to the American public in the 2000 presidential elections.

Oliver Stone had that same idea in mind while directing Emperor Motion Pictures’ recent film, “W.” that was released October 17, 2008. The film illustrates the life and controversial two-term presidency of George W. Bush, giving the viewer a sense of the American president’s humanity, with a little more negativity than Rove would ever advertise.

President Bush (Josh Brolin) jumpstarts his political career in the same manner that he would get a cow moving on his ranch in Midland, Texas: a nice kick in the behind. Impulsive and flawed of character, Bush is just like any other run of the mill American—except that he’s in the public eye, he’s a Bush.

Elected governor of Texas in 1994 and son of one-term American President George H. W. Bush (James Cromwell), Bush Jr. has always been in the people pleasing game when it came to his father. Constantly striving to prove his worth to a disappointed Bush Sr., Stone shows Bush’s vulnerability in the presence of his father and his addiction to alcohol as a result of this pressure to live up to his expectations.

When Bush crashes his car into the front of his family’s home at the wee hours of the morning after a long night of partying and “carrying on,” Bush senior confronts his inebriated son. “My advice to you, Junior, is to get yourself to an AA meeting,” says Bush Sr.

Perhaps as a result of his alcoholism or the nature of his character, Bush seems to be going nowhere in life. “You disappoint me, Junior,” says Bush Sr. at more than one occasion throughout the movie. “You deeply disappoint me. You haven’t kept your word once, not once.”

Scenes such as these evoke a surprising degree of empathy from the viewer, causing him or her to question whether this emotion was what script writer Stanley Weiser intended when he chose to focus the bulk of the film on the dysfunction of the Bush father-son relationship.

Bush, after making it through Yale University by the seat of his pants, tries jobs as an oil worker, a salesman at a sporting goods store, a ranch hand, and a position in the Air National Guard. Bush Sr. pronounces them all failures. Comparing Bush to his older brother, Jeb, Bush Sr. is disgusted with his son’s lack of work ethic and, frankly, his lack of any sort of moral ethic whatsoever.

In one scene towards the beginning of the film, Stone shows Bush returning to his father’s office to ask for help in bailing himself out. This is a pattern that repeats itself throughout the film, as George W. Bush, patronizingly called “Jr.” by his father, consistently fails to live up to the Bush family name.

The epitome of Bush’s corrupt party life during his young adulthood is illustrated in one of these office scenes when Bush pays a visit to daddy. The morning after a carousing night at a bar, Bush wakes up and finds that he has proposed to a woman he has no intention of marrying. When he threatens to end it, she makes up a rumor that has impregnated her. “I use a condom, Pappy, I’m not stupid,” says Bush.

A less than pleased Bush Sr. responds to his son’s continual failures with accumulating frustration. After his son’s multiple mess-ups in the job market and academically, he is at a loss as to how to help him.

“Who do you think you are, a Kennedy?” Bush Sr. says. “You’re a Bush. We’ve always worked for a living and it’s high time you joined us.”

Unbeknownst to his father, Bush takes this advice to heart and after straightening out his life, he decides to make something out of it, or to at least try. In the office of Pastor Earle Hudd (Stacey Keach), Bush finds Jesus. With an over the top southern accent, the pastor instructs a crying Bush to let Jesus lift the weight of sin from his shoulders.

“Born again, W, that’s what you are,” says Pastor Hudd. With hymns playing in the background, Pastor Hudd repeats John 3:16 from the Bible and he tells Bush to “take the baton, reach out and treat everyone you meet like they are going to be dead at midnight.” To this perplexing advice, Pastor Hudd says, “Love without hope of reward.” To push the scene even farther, Stone has Pastor Hudd plant seeds in Bush’s mind that will one day lead him to the Oval Office. “We are a country of wounded sinners,” says Pastor Hudd. “We are a nation, a Christian nation.”

The next scene, go figure, Stone has Bush announcing his presidential aspirations. “What if I tell you that I’m ready to get into the family business?” says Bush to his family and friends one night at his parents’ home. Everyone assumes he means the oil business. Bush means politics. He then reveals his decision to run for President of the United States, to the chagrin of his shocked parents and advisors.

Barbara Bush (Ellen Burstyn), matriarch of the Bush clan, has a harsh reality she feels obligated to relay to her son. “The fact is you can’t win,” says Barbara. “Why do you say that?” says Bush. “Because you’re just like me,” Barbara says. “You have a big mouth and a short fuse.” Bush is not discouraged because he doesn’t see that as an issue.

“I’m in touch with real people everyday,” says Bush at the start of his campaign. He thinks that’s enough to get him to the White House, and it is.

Stone uses Bush’s time on the campaign trail to reveal the first glimpse of his complete lack of intellect. The scenes are shot from in front of Bush, with reporters and newsmen crowded around him, pelting him with questions. Bush’s young librarian wife and fellow Texan, Laura (Elizabeth Banks), follows behind him, pictured over Bush’s left shoulder on the screen. She pretty much keeps her mouth shut like a good southern wife, a slight smile at the corners of her mouth, as if she were humoring her husband.

In what many republicans would label “borderline criminal,” the film is filled with moments which highlight Bush’s ignorance, lack of tact, and plain stupidity.

Bush is shown to be incompetent in press conferences. In one scene, Bush is shown passionately answering a reporter’s question. He says, “Rarely is the question asked, ‘is our children learning?’”

In another scene, Bush just seems so flat out naïve that it is embarrassing for the American people to call him President. He visits a severely burned soldier, hospitalized from fighting in Iraq. He approaches him and immediately begins to speak in his choppy Spanish, assuming that he is Mexican because of the color of his unburnt skin. When he returns Bush’s questions in fluent English, Bush is taken aback. He then gives the soldier’s mother a T-shirt for her son, to commemorate his sacrifice to the country. On his way out, Bush squeezes the soldier’s puss-filled, bandaged thumb in what must have been an excruciating gesture for the soldier.

Highlighting only grammatically incorrect responses such as this, without also showing Bush’s positive leadership role on September 11, 2001, and at other times throughout his political career, leads the viewer to conclude that Stone is out to get Bush. Perhaps in showing the negative in Bush’s life, Stone intends to slander Bush, but his motives may go deeper than that.

It may be that Stone is making a political move. It seems like more than coincidence that a comedic mockery of the present Republican American leadership is released a week before Election Day 2008, an election that remains close between Democrats and republicans. Is it coincidence that the Democrats attack the Republican Party by deeming candidate John McCain, synonymous to Bush? The film makes one question whether he is synonymous to the Bush portrayed in “W” as stupid, incompetent, and flawed of character. Who would want to vote for him?