By David Edward Clark
Photo by David Roswell.
Karl Rove spoke to a packed Finney Chapel on Tuesday. He focused on four major issues: the stimulus bill, increased government spending, increased national debt and healthcare.
By Alexander Bianchi
A fully illustrated children’s book on the First Family, a Romance and Adult Paperbacks section spanning nearly half of the back wall, Oberlin Alums, and even some nifty convenience baskets are only part of the the magic of the Oberlin Public Library.
From the outside, the OPL is a generic, sterile and slightly unattractive municipal public building. However, it quickly became apparent that there was something afoot when I noticed the mural of parrots, tigers, and tropical flowers tucked away to the left of the building. Entering the library, I found myself in a large room of grey carpeting, white metal bookshelves, and florescent lighting. Obviously, it was quiet. Yet again, I raised an eyebrow when I happened to peruse the billboard, covered with posters advertising Reiki classes, Jazzercise, and an Autumn Celebration of Midwifery.
By the time I got to the children’s section, I realized that this was no regular public library. Near a sign advertising storytimes–which resume in October by the way–I came upon Deborah Hopkinson’s new classic, First Family. Yes, a fully illustrated children’s book depicting a typical day in the White House for Barack, Michelle, the girls and their dog Bo – for ages five to seven.
After getting my First Family fix, I set out in search of the heart of any library: the romantic novel section. The OPL does not disappoint. Much to my guilty pleasure, I found the Romance and Adult Paperbacks section to be more than adequate, containing nearly a wall’s-worth of books. And luckily for me, my favorite New York Times bestselling author Mary Balogh was in stock. This library contained her Slightly series, a number of books with titles beginning with the word ‘slightly’ and ending in such adjectives as sinful, scandalous, tempted, dangerous, and my own personal favorite, Slightly Married, in which a London aristocrat marries a random soldier so as not to be turned out of her home. “When strangers become lovers, anything can happen.” Go figure.
Realizing that I still needed to pick up something for a bit of light reading, I headed over to the Biography section, where my literary needs were met with five different biographies on Richard Nixon. Placing these tomes in a handy convenience basket that I found nearby, I moved onward, dreaming of the juicy reading that lay ahead. My glazed eyes quickly snapped into focus when they caught sight of a shelf bearing a sign that read ‘Free!’–which was, unfortunately, filled with nothing but pamphlets.
Feeling that I had only just begun to plumb the depths of this literary treasure trove, I decided to consult the staff. I was lucky enough to find Joseph Maiville ’07, the jovial reference librarian. Joseph, who naturally was kidnapped by the fencing team and confronted by a man wearing a bear suit when he was a prospective student, decided to stay after graduation because, as he says, “The community in the town makes it above and beyond most of the experiences I’ve had in my life. There are so many people here who have led incredibly interesting lives, and there’s so much art and beauty.”
Joseph also informed me that the library has “a huge circulation turnout because of the college students. You can tell when finals are coming up because students will come in and rent a bunch of Disney movies.” With that, we ourselves took a stroll over to the rather extensive video section. I found critically acclaimed TV series like The Sopranos and Six Feet Under, as well as theatre, British, African-American, “Vintage Hollywood” and fitness sections. I’m sorry to report that there were no Jane Fonda films available; however, I did find five prenatal yoga movies, which I promptly placed in my convenience basket alongside my Nixon bios.
Joseph also showed me some of the special rooms of the library. One such room is the Owen Room. Looking out onto the OPL garden, the Owen Room is filled with rare children’s books and is also an excellent place for solitary study. Next, he brought me to the Genealogy Room, containing a computer used especially for genealogy, walls of books about Oberlin and the history of Ohio, and Oberlin News Tribunes archives dating all the way back to 1885.
My time was almost up for the evening. I got a library card so I could check out my biographies and fitness tapes. It’s a remarkably easy process for Oberlin students–simply show the librarian your OCID and fill out a short form. Before I left, I was sure to ask Joseph one last pressing question that had been on my mind: is there an age limit on storytime? He replied, “It depends. How old is your inner child?”
For many of us Oberlin students, the answer is obvious, but be sure to consult the children’s librarian before showing up.
All photos by Alexander Bianchi.
By Alison Kozol
Photo by Danielle Shiv.
After Tobacco’s set at the ‘Sco on September 22nd, all audience members could talk about was the weird video montage accompanying their performance. One of Tobacco’s infamous compilations of found footage, clips ranged from creepy workout videos to E.T.-inspired pornography. Tobacco’s music, like the montage, had a strange and sexually charged rhythm that kept the crowd dancing throughout the set.
Before the montage began, band member Ryan Gravestone from Tobacco’s other project, Black Moth Super Rainbow, opened the show with percussionist d.Kyler. The noisy audience quickly hushed once their first song began, remaining quiet throughout the entire set. With only a guitar and a drumset, the duo filled the ‘Sco with beautiful, whirling sound that kept the audience mesmerized.
After a short break between sets, the audience gawked at a man onstage decked out in a curly, gray-haired wig and wrinkled mask. Tobacco, a.k.a. Tom Fec, maintained his reputation as a mysterious musician who cares more about his weird, warped looping and grimy beats than acting as a front man. Fec, along with some help from Maux Boyle, d.Kyler, and Ryan Gravestone let the video montage steal the show as the group hid in the corner of the stage playing their instruments.
The set started off on a high note–Fec and Boyle launched into a noisy, psychedelic romp that got the audience moving immediately. As the crowd danced, Fec and Boyle stood stoically behind their instrument-laden table; countless colorful knobs and switches sat on top of a laptop, keyboards, a guitar, and Fec’s infamous vocoder. Every instrument was put to use: melodic synthesizers in “Truck Sweat,” looped blips and bloops from hand-made devices in “Overheater,” and slimy vocoder vocals in “Sweatmother,” the most well-received song played the whole night.
The music itself is hard to describe because Tobacco is one of the few artists today producing such a unique sound. Tobacco is Fec’s answer to hip-hop inspired electronica–a sunnier trip-hop or a darker IDM. From the minimalist techno of “Lick the Witch” to the rock-rooted “Creepy Phone Calls,” Fec and Boyle mixed varying genres into one raucous flow.
Tobacco has gained a lot of hype throughout the past year with the release of his highly acclaimed second album Maniac Meat; his performance proved that he deserves the critical acclaim. The music was mostly lively and inventive, and the presentation was captivating. Images of flirty girls popping bubbles at each other, snowplows slicing women into pieces, and break-dancing men resembling Screamin’ Jay Hawkins thoroughly enhanced the weird vibes of the music. After a while, people seemed to dance blindly and instead, watch the montage. Then again, electronica-hip-hop can’t top E.T. porn.
By Alice Beecher
facebook.com
“The themes of the show are friendship and happiness,” said Isabel Roth ‘11, playing a show at Slow Train on Friday. There isn’t a better way to describe the warmth and casual camaraderie of ‘Isabel and Friends,’ who came with a grab-bag mix of instruments and voices to deliver a performance that felt like jamming on a porch with your best friends. Even if you’re not a fan of sugar-sweet Michelle-Branch-esque singer songwriters, it was hard not to be charmed by Isabel’s humor and clear sense of community.
The show opened with a set by “Three Beards and a Bass” who feature two fedora-clad guitarists, a violinist, and a badass female upright bassist. They fit right in with the rollicking and tightly packed venue, playing twangy folk that kept the energy bubbling until eleven o’clock. This is a band best surrounded by hand clapping and joyful noise, and the crowd complied with great aplomb. The low groan of the bass provided a smoky undercurrent to hot guitars and spirited finger plucking on the violin, played with a confident swagger by the well-clad musicians. A romantic rendition of the Beatles song “Michelle” summoned a sweet hush from the audience, thick with loneliness and longing. The band ended with a “song popularized by Johnny Depp” that combined elements of sexy jazz and folksy soul.
Isabel began her set with a pretty, low-key rendition of the Corrine Bailey Rae song “Girl Put Your Records On”. The song showcased her voice’s subtle power and range, and later I wished I had seen her push her vocal capabilities beyond the too-cute singer-songwriter bubble. A sentimental song about Ohio written in the singer’s freshman year was met with knowing laughter from the audience, reminding us of the happy-hippie flower child a lot of us came here wanting to be.
Later, Isabel’s first set of friends came up on stage to perform as a Peter, Paul & Mary cover band wittily named “Peter, Paul & Party.” Their a cappella version of “Baby Beluga” was one of the best songs of the night, capturing the retro-sweetness of a 50s doo-wop trio, with voices as comforting and ethereal as a lullaby before bed. Generally, the crowd responded better to these friendly group a cappella songs than the somewhat saccharine piano pieces. Other mellow pop pieces with ukuleles and golden girl harmonies were interspersed with laughter and jokes about whales, summoning the feeling of sitting around with people you love and singing just because you’re too happy not to.
Songs about Oberlin and the friendships that are born here contributed to the tight-knit community atmosphere of the entire night, reminding us of how lucky we are to live in such a loving place. A freshman sang a song about Oberlin he had written three weeks ago while Isabel sang ‘the real freshman song’ she had written as a young and nervous first year. You couldn’t help but relate to her “I’m Not Fearless” refrain, however long you’ve been here learning the ropes. Later, Isabel spiced up the precious folk vibe with a sarcastic song about dumping a guy for his “annoying personality”. Still, I’d be interested in seeing Isabel stretch a little more and play something a bit darker, maybe a Billie Holiday ballad or a song that addresses more complex aspects of Oberlin culture. Nevertheless, it was nice to hear someone sing about the beautiful, funny, and always closely connected life she’s carved for herself in this strange little town, one which she has kindly invited us all to join her in celebrating.
By Shane Hisner
Photo by David Roswell.
Josh Ritter ’99 had everyone in Finney Chapel on his side Saturday night. The show was full of good songs, facetious one-liners, and remarkable showmanship—and that’s only accounting for bassist Zack Hickman.
The third installment of Oberlin College’s convocation series was a doozy. A blue-jeaned Marvin Krislov gave a brief introduction before Josh and his band played a full two-hour set.
To start things off, Ritter took the stage solo and under dimmed lights softly picked and howled “Idaho,” an ode to his home state. The rendition was no less than haunting—the kind of song that sets one to reflecting. Finney was motionless, dead silent.
Photo by David Roswell.
Photo by David Roswell.
Then the band came out. Sam Kassirer on the Steinway and the ‘01 graduate Hickman on the upright. Those bigger, fuller ballads swelled from the stage—songs like “Rumors,” “Wolves,” and “Kathleen.” Oberlin was clearly watching a trio that knew how to feed off of each other’s energy.
The concert ebbed and flowed all night. Every run of high-energy anthems was answered by a subdued, reflective psalm. Ritter trolled triumphantly about Kathleen only to cry longingly for Anabel Lee a song later. He left the nostalgia of “Me and Jiggs” for the desperation of “Lawrence, KS.”
Ritter’s ability as a lyricist truly makes his songs worth hearing, and Saturday night he put on a clinic in storytelling. The songs he played from his May release So the World Runs Away were perhaps the most intriguing—songs about mummies and archaeologists and polar explorers—but it was certainly nice to hear those good ol’ American folk tales that made Josh Ritter a name to know in the folk music community.
Ritter called upon charm and an array of concert tricks to keep things fresh from start to finish. In “Wolves,” he had crowd members howling at the moon. “In the Dark,” another Animal Years track, was appropriately played in a completely dark Finney Chapel. He even dedicated a new song, titled “Sarah” after the former Alaskan governor, to Tuesday’s speaker Karl Rove. Ritter sang over the laughing crowd. “I won’t forget the night we spent / when you stole my leather reindeer jacket.”
Hickman’s performance on the bass was something to marvel at as well. His sonorous rendition of Chris Isaak’s 1989 classic “Wicked Game” was a high point in the concert. He wooed the crowd all night with his impeccable style and stage presence. By the end of the show, one was left wondering what comes more naturally to him—his slick bass skills or his world-class mustache.
Probably the most impressive thing about Ritter’s performance was the fact that he brought the house down without playing many of his most popular songs. Perhaps even more impressive was the fact that a die-hard fan like me didn’t even realize these omissions until the day after the concert. Fan favorites like “Thin Blue Flame,” “Girl In the War,” “The Temptation of Adam,” and “Golden Age of Radio” didn’t even make the set list.
But it’s that time in his career now. He’s 33 and longer removed from his time at Oberlin than his energetic temperament would suggest. 2010 saw the release of Josh’s seventh album. Some songs are inevitably going to get skipped over.
Luckily, Ritter and his band won’t be long before they circle back around to our neck of the woods. They’ll be in Cleveland on November 15 at the Beachland Ballroom, a show that will conclude their North American tour. It would certainly be unreasonable to hold him to the standard of Saturday’s show at Finney, but, damn, anything close would do.
By Alice Beecher
myspace.com/owenpallettmusic
When Owen Pallett came to the Cat on Thursday, he only brought a violin, a haphazard looping pedal, and a sarcastic drummer/guitarist. Somehow, he managed to sound like the entire Arcade Fire consolidated in one skinny eccentric. “He made me see God,” said one enthusiastic audience member.
The audience walked in to find the Cat bubbling with quiet energy and excitement, aided by enormous cookies and overcrowded sofas. Pallett’s guitarist opened up with a set that was more stand-up than performance, to mixed results. Crooning, schmaltzy versions of Justin Bieber and Gwen Stefani songs were interspersed with funny banter more entertaining than the songs themselves. The audience responded to the last song with muffled laughter, as we finally recognized that we weren’t meant to take him too seriously.
In retrospect, the opening act provided a nice contrast to Pallett’s expansive and somewhat dark performance, which conjured up the feeling of being stuck inside a space age cathedral. After plucking a few notes on the violin, Pallett introduced his signature looping pedal, recording sequences as he played over them. This textured sound was well complemented by his angelic, soaring falsetto. All at once, the classically precise instrumentation propelled into modernity with pulsing drums and experimental finger-picking/double stops.
The eerie blend of harsh drumming and exquisite violin created the sensation of being pulled both forward and backward in time, as if a romantic alien had landed on earth and discovered classical music. Pallett’s poppy melodies contrasted sharply with apocalyptic lyrics about the future “turning to dust”. The song “Final Fantasy” (also the singer’s pseudonym) referenced “doomsday” and “the end of the century” over eerie layers of violin and cold synthesizer. This created the effect of an entire symphony orchestrated by two men confused about the fate of the universe. If Owen Pallett were alive at the end of the earth, I think he would still play music, regardless of whether or not he had a backing band.
Pallett tempers his focused, passionate stage presence with unpretentious joking between songs, as he told stories about putting dried contacts in his eyes and shouting at vegetarians who maintain their diet because “they hate vegetables.” The banter humanized a show that was at times almost overwhelmingly intense. Pallett is often compared to Andrew Bird for his experimental looping techniques and catchy pop melodies, but from this show, it seems that he chose to veer away from the folksier end of the hyper-articulate violinist spectrum for a more futuristic approach. Comparisons to the Arcade Fire are more understandable, as he did compose string parts for them for years. Nonetheless Owen Pallett should be recognized as a unique performer in his own right, not just through a series of famous associations.
Although the last song was interrupted by technical difficulties with the looping pedal, Pallett’s overall performance left the audience awestruck, incredulous that such a talented musician would play a free show for a tiny liberal arts college in Ohio. The simplified, technology-free rendition of the piece only added to the impression that Pallett doesn’t need the Arcade Fire to create a powerful sound–he is a force of nature on his own, a hypnotic robot with a heart of gold.
By Charlie Landsman
Picture from Facebook.
The combination of a tuba, accordion and cello might seem strange on paper, but Lost in the Trees, led by singer/songwriter Ari Picker, pulled it off beautifully. Playing for just over an hour at the Cat in the Cream on Wednesday, September 23rd, the band laid down an emotional (though sometimes awkward) soundtrack for the night.
The distinguishing quality of Lost in the Trees’s music is the diversity of their instrumentation. The band boasts two cellists, a violin player, a drummer, a guitarist/lead singer, and several other members who seem to switch between bass, tuba, French horn, xylophone, accordion, backing vocals and drums at will. Most of their songs were dark and melancholy with frequent classical string interludes and haunting melodies, like a mix between Conor Oberst and Sufjan Stevens. The lyrics often walked the line between heartfelt and sappy.
Ari Picker is the mastermind behind Lost in the Trees. Trained at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, Picker uses Lost in the Trees as a platform to combine his love of folk and pop music with his knowledge of classical composition. Despite being a talented musician, Picker’s stage presence left a lot to be desired. “A lot of times I don’t know what to say,” Picker said, stalling for time. “Play some music!” shouted a frustrated audience member.
Where Picker fell short, Oberlin graduate and French horn player Emma Nadeau ’06 filled in. She engaged the audience with stories of her daughter and of her time at Oberlin. “I was a biology and theater major,” she said, “and here I am!”
To conclude their performance, the band entered the crowd for an acoustic sing-along. The harmonies had three parts, but the Oberlin students in the crowd were able to join right in.
Lost in the Trees provided an easy listening atmosphere that was enjoyed by everyone in attendance. Wednesday’s show was the band’s second performance at Oberlin, and they will undoubtedly be back at the Cat in the future.
By David Edward Clark
In four to six weeks, the East College Street Project will be complete and The Slow Train Café will no longer be the only draw for students to the east side of town.
The building behind Slow Train will have an Asian food market that will also serve Korean food to go. Beside the grocery store will be a Tansu (a form of fancy Japanese cabinets) studio, and an accounting firm. A barbershop and a psychologist’s office will be on the second floor, though there is still space left for another shop.
On the corner of Pleasant and East College, a local couple is opening a gourmet pizza parlor. “They’re going to have like butternut squash and goat cheese pizza,” said Josh Rosen of Sustainable Community Associates. They should be opening their doors by mid-November.
SCA tried its hardest to bring an Indian restaurant to Oberlin, with no such luck. “It’s a tough climate for restaurants to go to banks and get business loans,” said Rosen. “But I should add, there’s still one 1,600 square feet space that an Indian restaurant could go into.”
In addition to retail and office space, the East College Street Project contains 33 mixed income condos. Over the summer, those who bought condos moved in. “All the affordable housing rentals are already taken,” said Rosen. Only eight condos are left that will be sold at the market rate.
In terms of the project’s LEED status, which measures a building’s environmental friendliness, SCA will not know their rating for sure for another six months. However, Rosen is confident that they will achieve their target goal of LEED Gold.
For their next endeavor, SCA is “investigating a two to three megawatt solar project with the City of Oberlin and Oberlin College,” said Rosen. “It just feels like energy is the next thing to do so that’s what we’re working on.”
SCA aims to stay local. “It’s been our home and we’d like to keep working here if possible,” said Rosen. They are also looking into development opportunities around the Cleveland area.
On October 9th, SCA is holding an open house in the courtyard behind Slow Train. At 2 p.m., there will be tours of the entire project and at 6 p.m. there will be music, pie and cider for all.
The Coolest Dads in Dadville
By Ben Garfinkel
After a reportedly mediocre premier show, the four-person comedy troupe The Coolest Dads in Dadville had their second show of the semester at the Cat in the Cream on the 17th of September. The show was eccentric and high-energy, and the group carried this attitude through an entertaining hour and a half of smart comedy.
The first sketch was strange; it portrayed a mother desperate to get her child to read in order to impress another mother. She eventually resorts to attaching a ‘Hooked on Phonics Shock Collar’ to her child that shocks him every time he makes a mistake. While the concept was relatively solid, the comedy fell flat; the sketch seemed to rely more on its eccentricity rather than its true comedic value. The Coolest Dads continued this strange vein of humor with two particular sketches–one about a man who struggles in relationships because he is in love with his umbrella, and another about a Russian who sells replacement grandparents to mourning families.
One striking sketch featured scientists pitching phallic rocket ship designs to the president. Lathered in puns and dick jokes (with a vagina joke at the end–that evens it out, right?), the sketch seemed to be a big ‘F you’ to any and all kinds of politically correctness in comedy. Though the concept was juvenile (and a little too close to a one-joke SNL skit for comfort), the Coolest Dads pulled it off with solid comedic timing and a surprisingly funny script.
The conceptual skill of the Coolest Dads’ writing stood out in a sketch featuring Jesus chatting to a recently deceased atheist; Jesus slowly realizes from the atheist’s comments about the Bible that he had forgotten to turn in his final draft. This was a smart scene that explored some of the stranger scenes in the Bible (e.g. walking on water, turning water into wine) in a funny, non-offensive style.
The strangest part about The Coolest Dads’s comedy? It works. The writing is solid and the actors are talented and entertaining, but where the troupe truly shines is in creating smart sketches that come together as a show that is greater than the sum of its parts.
An Alternative to the Ambiguous Entrée
By Molly Moss
After bidding a bittersweet adieu to chipotle mayo and the varied selections of the Wild Fire Grill, I headed fork first into my new co-op eating oasis. With access to an industrial sized kitchen and my spankin’ new title of Pyle “tasty things maker,” I can finally try out the recipes I concocted during last semester’s 10 a.m. lectures.
Cooking in a co-op is like participating in a low-budget iron chef competition. The not-so-secret ingredients rarely change from week to week and they are often the only ingredients available. Though I brag about the health benefits of ambiguous vegetable mash (or androgynous, for vegetable mash cannot proclaim preferred pronouns) just as much as the next co-oper, I believe that a variety o of textures is the key to a well-balanced meal. So, using nine staple ingredients of a co-op kitchen, I created a cheesy, caramelized onion flatbread that will most certainly cure the co-op concoction blues.
Caramelized Onion Flatbread
8 cups flour
5 tablespoons sugar
8 tsp baking powder
2 cups butter, cold or frozen
4 cups milk (with 4 tablespoons of white distilled vinegar)
10 onions
Balsamic vinegar
2-3 cups cheese
Salt
To give my flatbread some buttery flakiness without spending all day parenting puff pastry, I decided to use biscuit dough as the base. Good biscuits should have a crumb that is concrete enough to hold up its puffy layers and delicate enough to disintegrate effortlessly in your mouth. The secret to this contradictory grain: frozen butter. First chop the butter into ½ inch cubes. In another bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Then add the butter to the flour mixture and mix until all of the butter is coated. By leaving the butter in cold chunks, rather than creaming it into the flour, the butter will melt in the oven and create wonderfully flavorful air pockets in the dough (i.e. the biscuit’s flakes).
Once all the butter is coated, use your hands to break up the butter into smaller chunks (approximately 1/8th-1/4th of an inch.) You can also use a food processor for this part, but make sure to not break up the butter too much.
The other secret to perfectly flaky biscuits is buttermilk; however, buttermilk rarely shows up on a co-op’s “secret” ingredient list. For a buttermilk substitute, add distilled white vinegar to milk (approximately 1 teaspoon of vinegar per cup of milk) and let sit, refrigerated, for about 10 minutes. While the faux-buttermilk is setting, push the flour/butter mixture to the outskirts of the bowl to create a small well in the middle. Slowly pour the buttermilk into this well and use your hands or a spatula to slowly mix the wet and dry ingredients until they are just integrated. To avoid a crumb consistency that resembles papier-mâché, do not overwork the dough (overworking dough activates more gluten and renders the final product more like soggy cardboard).
Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead for about 2 minutes (the dough should be sticky). Then, roll the dough out with a rolling pin and fold it over itself a couple times to create the layers of the biscuit. Stretch the dough out until it is large enough to fill one of the co-op’s industrial sized sheet pans (which would make an excellent murder weapon in a co-op game of Clue… just sayin’…). Finally, place the sheet pan in the fridge to chill any butter chunks that may have melted during the kneading process.
Chop 10 onions into ¼ inch slices, and feel free to use your enzyme-induced tears to demand sympathy from any visiting munchers. Sauté the onions in a pot with butter for about 15-20 minutes, until they are light brown. To quicken the caramelization process, add a tablespoon or so of sugar to the pot. To add more flavor, I like to reduce my already caramelized onions in balsamic vinegar–pour in ½ cup to 1 cup of balsamic to the pot and stir until all the liquid is absorbed.
Spread the caramelized onions on top of the biscuit dough and cherry the whole dish with a very generous portion of grated mozzarella cheese. Bake at 400 degrees for about 15-20 minutes, or until the hissing of the bubbling cheese seduces you into prematurely taking your masterpiece out of the oven.
After two weeks eating in Pyle, I can confidently say that I am absolutely in love with the co-op lifestyle. All the ingredients are local, fresh, and seasonal. But after the eighth meal in a row of roasted carrots and sweet potatoes, I realized that eating seasonally, locally, and cheaply does not allow for a lot of variety, in both color and flavor. With a dash of creativity, as some of the more seasoned head cooks have taught me, a co-op kitchen becomes a mosaic of different flavors and textures, each combination easily adaptable to become something new and exciting.
