Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Monday, January 7, 2008

Wicked Review


Wicked is a musical based on the novel by Gregory Maguire. The musical portrays the characters from The Wizard of Oz in a perspective quite different from how they were originally presented. It re-imagines the classic story from the point of view of Elphaba, who becomes the Wicked Witch of the West. The post-modern approach to Oz is disappointing. Instead of augmenting the original film, the writer merely alludes to it and turns away from it. The musical numbers were mediocre for this caliber of musical. The songs/dances sounded/looked the same—all in dire need of raw emotion. What Wicked lacked in music, it made up for in full force with set design, effects, and lighting. These elements were flawless and crafty, enveloping us in this newly-imagined, though feigned, universe of Oz.
The greatest disappointment concerning Wicked is the scale and setting of the story. With the original Oz, we had the tale of an epic journey in the same tradition as the Lord of the Rings. Wicked, on the other hand, was the equivalent of a 1980’s John Hughes’ high school drama. Wicked claims to be the untold story of the Wicked Witch. Reflecting on The Wizard of Oz, I see the Wicked Witch to be true evil, not a misunderstood green girl. I may be an Oz purest, but it was upsetting to see the Scarecrow embrace Elphaba in the end of Wicked. The story of young Elphaba suffering racism and stirring activism to end animal cruelty could survive without being stapled to the world of Oz. Instead of thoughtfully utilizing the story’s existing themes and character development, Wicked only uses them as a spring board. It then springs far away from Oz, by making the Wicked Witch misunderstood. The original film viciously depicts her evil nature, while Wicked flips it around. Glinda is rendered a popular moron who is evil in her selfishness, leaving Elphaba as the victimized outcast. The use of the Lion and Tin Man were also annoying, considering the musical never comes to terms with the Witch being the center of their despair in the original Oz. The one element I thought was well-played is the idea of the Wizard being the architect Oz’ downfall. What kind of guy stands behind a robot head and yells at you? The kind of guy doing bad things from behind the curtain.
Since the release of Wicked, its popularity has seized the attention of countless families full of children. Outside of the theatre, one hears talk of its amazing music and how every member of the family has a copy of the soundtrack. I wasn’t impressed. The musical numbers felt redundant with no real emotion behind them. Instead of propelling the story, I felt like they took me out of it and put me in a trendy pop music video. Every time I heard Elphaba and Glinda sing with each other, it reminded me of a 13-year-old girl listening to her pink IPod. The next tracks had to be from Hannah Montana or the Cheetah Girls. Not to say that any of this is poor quality; it just doesn’t resonate with me. The end of the first act was by far the best musical piece in the show. When Elphaba rushes off stage and comes back flying in with lights beaming through fog, the music takes a downturn into a darker melody. If Wicked offered more moments where the music represents the psychology of its characters rather than the characters just singing along the music, it would have been a much stronger show.
The magic of Wicked wasn’t in the music or story, it was in the set design, effects, and lighting. The set transitions flow perfectly and the audience hardly notices, as gear panels slide out and beds appear from thin air just in time for witches to jump onto them. The special effects were an achievement for the stage. The first thing we see is a smoke-breathing dragon flapping its wings and whipping its head around. Then, monkeys fly from vines in front of a giant fantasy clock that a Dungeon and Dragons fan would want as a center piece. Next, we see a witch in a radiant gown float down on a bubble-blowing contraption. And Elphaba, in her witch hat, flies her broomstick through gleaming smoke. On all occasions, my mouth dropped. The stage design was perfect; they must have had the actual Wizard of Oz on a laptop controlling it all back stage, laughing to himself as people’s eyes lit up in amazement. To augment these moves, they had extremely well-planned lighting schemes. These allowed them to easily transition us into another scene or to make a special effect appear magnificent. Again in “Defying Gravity,” the light beaming through the smoke as Elphaba flew above the stage was masterfully orchestrated.
On stage, Wicked fails to grasp my heart as it did for most people, but the magic off stage with the effects and set design held me enough to appreciate the musical. The music was just too poppy for my tastes and seemed to lack passion. Finally, the story deceived The Wizard of Oz instead of playing off of its themes and enhancing Wicked’s relationship with the film.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Metal Enlightenment: Review of Heaven and Hell

The “Dio Era” of Black Sabbath returns under the guise of Heaven and Hell. The reunion of the geniuses behind albums such as, Heaven and Hell, Mob Rules, and Dehumanizer marks the revisiting of true metal music. This was exemplified by Heaven and Hell’s appearance at Irvine Meadows. The band, led by singer Ronnie James Dio, created a wall of metal that assailed the audience’s senses like the siren-seducing Odysseus. Tony Iommi, one of metal's greatest guitarists, shredded off more than a few blazing solos. Geezer Butler worked his fingers like a madman on bass. And the epically fast drummer, Vinny Appice, destroyed any noise ordinances within a five mile radius. The pinnacle of the concert was the band’s new take on their most famous song “Heaven and Hell.” There is only one thing to say about this return: hell yeah.
“Mob Rules” opened the night with Iommi’s guitar raging and Dio’s pristine vocals bellowing, which set the tone for a night full of flawless musicianship. The set list took off and they fell into the song “I.” Dio thundered on with his dark vocals about becoming a monster. The metal heads were pleased. Soon, the grand crescendo in “Sign of the Southern Cross”" melted the faces of 10,000 people, as Iommi and Butler took the forefront as master musicians. In between songs, Dio, being a gracious man, took the time to look at the audience and express his thankfulness.
By this point, the crowd was ready for one of the heaviest songs ever written, “Computer God.” It began with a heavy drag, which slowly became a blistering fire of metal music, illustrating a grim reality about computers taking over our souls. Dio muses, “This way to technical paradise, find it on the other side, when the walls fall down.” “Computer God” seemed to be the audiences’ favorite, judging by the pleased faces and excited hollers. Who could blame them? The song builds up to the fastest bass and drummer fusion I have ever heard. Right at the climax of the song, Vinny Appice and Geezer Butler wage a bass versus drum war. The sound waves shook my body. Butler soon finished his bass solo with a pulsating crescendo. Butler still raged on the drums with unexplainable speed.
The nail in my metal coffin was “Heaven and Hell.” It started slow, blossoming into a blues-hued instrumental, and then erupted into an onslaught of musical precision. On a brick, cathedral-themed stage with two castle doors, gothic wrought iron fencing, flaming lanterns and stained-glass window video screens, Iommi looked at home in his black leather jacket and gold cross necklace. As “Heaven and Hell” stormed he broke into a seven minute guitar solo. He strolled around the stage like a 17th Century vampire slayer, looking for the undead. Geezer and Butler did an incredible job keeping up with Iommi’s guitar, but they stayed back, letting the master execute his solo as sharp as guillotine. Iommi eventually slowed down and Dio retook the forefront with a blinding, white light coming from the heavens onto him. Dio rejected the light and the stage erupted into a fiery red, as if hells gates were opening on stage. This image is forever engrained in my brain as the greatest moment in concert history.
The band soon came to their encore, “Neon Knights.” Throughout the duration of the song, I could not focus because I was still thinking about the performance on “Heaven and Hell.” Even when I went to leave and tried to navigate through the crowds of drunk, ripped, stoned, or any-other-high-you-can-get people, I was still contemplating what I had just heard, seen, and felt. In awe, I later asked my friend, Dustin, how he felt about the concert. The only imagery he could give me is a Buddhist monk reaching enlightenment, while floating above the earth as waves and metal slam into his body. Metal enlightenment: the perfect way to explain the return of Dio with Black Sabbath.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

That Which Cannot Be Described

A. All things start with Brahman, the infinite. One does not describe Brahman by what it is, but by what it isn’t. Brahman is the state which all subjective and objective distinctions are annihilated. Brahman is the experience of being. To be, we must start with nirguna Brahman. nirguna Brahman is Brahman without qualities—a transcendent state of being with no distinction. Furthermore, nirguna, as an experience, is one where all things and their definitions are overcome. When the formless nirguna becomes neguna, the material realm takes form. Samsara is the material realm where life extinguishes and is reborn. Brahman in form is seguna Brahman. Seguna is all that we are aware of and how we experience life. Nirguna and seguna are one and that one is many. If everything we perceive comes from a formless state of being and is given characteristics when it creates manifestations in the material realm (samsara) and becomes the same state of being, but with qualities, we have an instance of “God as the world.” God as the world is expressed by the relationship of seguna and nirguna Brahman because God takes on all manifestations in the world, but still remains the same source. With the creation of samsara, it is easy for humans to fall victim to maya, the occasion for illusion. All we may see and worship is samsara or the image of ourselves. We forget our dependence on the infinite to live and believe we have total control over our own destiny. We forget that we are all part of Brahman when we die. The finite is destroyed, but the infinite still remains.

The relationship of nirguna and seguna can be illustrated by light passing through a prism. The white formless light is nirguna. This light passes through the prism, representative of seguna, and manifests into a spectrum of all colors to make samsara. The colors take on different characteristics after passing through the prism, but they still remain of the formless white light. Another example would be a boat. The boat is made of wood, but do we call the boat wood? No, we call it a boat. If the boat is destroyed, it becomes what it once was, wood. Wood as the boat. God as the world.

B. To reach Brahman, one must recognize and shed maya. Maya is the occasion for illusion. The occasions cause our minds and the jiva—our personal souls or the self—to become entangled. This ignorance is the cause of “material experiences” in the corporal world. Humans, under the spell of maya, feel they are limited by the material world. This illusion of Brahman as the seen world results in human emotions like sadness, happiness and fear. The jiva can become bound to maya. When maya constrains the self, then the Atman, or the true Self or God within, is not seen. Maya hides the one Atman and makes it appear as several Atmans, each in a single body. When maya is destroyed, the jiva can see Atman is one in the same as Brahman and ignorance is lost. Karma’s relationship to the jiva is through a person’s deeds. Karma can be defined as the moral law of cause and effect. Karma says that man’s actions have consequences but are arrived at freely. Thus, a jiva has the choice to act out of self-gratification or compassion. Each time one acts out in a negative manner, bad karma will cling to Atman and remain there as a blemish on the Self. A life of good deeds leads to rebirth in a better life, and foul deeds lead to a lower existence.

An example of maya can be demonstrated in a simple story of a man in the woods. One day, a man walking in a forest spots a snake on the ground. The man reels and is ready to stomp the snake dead, but then realizes it is actually a rope. The man calms down and the adrenaline subsides. The snake represents the occasion for illusion. Maya made the man’s adrenaline rush; it masked his vision so that he could only see what he thought was fact. He did not see the truth that there was no snake. His ignorance of what was the case and attention to his own mental construct rendered him physically sick and potentially a fool. Karma can be visualized by a man who buys things to please himself until they eventually surround him. He becomes trapped, as he is no longer himself but the things he owns. The man’s deeds trapped his Atman behind scars and blemishes so that it is too blind to realize its oneness with Brahman.

C. The blemishes of karma stain the soul if one cannot break the world of maya. Moksha must seem very far off. Moksha is liberation from samsara and all the suffering of the material world. An essential path to moksha would be that of the four yogas. Bhakti yoga is the most popular of the four. It is a discipline that consists of constantly loving and remembering God in all mortal actions. To master it, one must love God, not for personal gain but for love’s sake alone. It strives to ultimately connect with manifestations of seguna Brahman.
A follower of bhakti yoga would put God in his or her everyday life by singing or repeating His name, making God a friend to have an internal and loving relationship with, and being totally absorbed in Him. Surrounding oneself with Him is a path to become closer to Him.
Jnana yoga is attaining moksha through the path of knowledge and tries to attain oneness with nirguna Brahman. Jnana yoga is for the reflective minded to look at the self’s actions and liberate the self from the temporal. To reach moksha, a master of jnana yoga must attain the “me, I’m not” way of thinking and see past the self, onto what is past the worldly.
A Jnana yoga disciple would detach himself or herself from the earthly self. One way of doing this is by reflecting on actions in the third-person and analyzing them. For instance, if one were to get angry, one would not let oneself get lost in the anger. Instead, this person would realize that he or she is feeling anger and reflect on why that may be. This will help someone following jnana to detach themselves from the material and feelings brought up by the material.
Karma yoga is focused on liberation through one’s actions as expressed in the Bhavagad Gita. One can attain moksha by performing his or her duties selflessly and without becoming attached to the fruits of labor.
An example of karma yoga in practice would be a person who acts so they are not rewarded by the material but by how their actions are sacrifices for God and do not swell the ego. Those who live modest lives of service represent this behavior.
Raja Yoga is primarily concerned with the mind or the psychophysical. Raja yoga emphasizes the relationship between mind and body and the need to learn self-discipline. The main tool of raja yoga is meditation. To meditate successfully, one must master eight steps, starting with being able to ignore physical and mental distractions and ending with a state of samadhi. Samadhi is the deepest state of meditation and one of the last precursors to moksha.
A raja yoga disciple would attain moksha by disciplining the mind to drop the self and would perfect the paradox of seeing the invisible.



Critique of part A:
Most dualist ideals concerning salvation and “heaven” would not agree in the principle of God living as the world. In Christianity, we are at home when we are with God in heaven, while God has no home on earth. That means God is related externally to the earth. Hindu thought believes we are God before we are born, when we are on earth, and when we die. This directly relates to the Atman, which a dualist has a hard time understanding. The duelist would only consider the jiva and Brahman, leaving the interconnecting Atman out of the equation. Thus we are never a part of God. Therefore, the world and God exist independently. To a duelist “God as the world” is placing too much power in man. If one says “God is me,” then might this person also claim, “I am God”? That may not be the case, but someone could draw that conclusion, because the line between God and man is blurry in Hinduism.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Buddhism Paper "That Which Cannot Be Titled"

A. Siddhartha Gautama transformed into Buddha—the enlightened one—after 49 days of intense meditations and the battle against Mara the Evil One. Once he achieved enlightenment, his first sermon explained the Four Noble Truths: life is dukkha (suffering), the root of all suffering is tanha (desire), to defeat dukkha one must destroy tanha, and to destroy tanha one must follow the Eightfold Path. Buddha did not speak of suffering in the physical sense, such as pain, hunger, and sickness. There is no way of escaping these human conditions. If there is no escape from these sufferings, then the last two Noble Truths are fallacies, because following the Eightfold Path does not prevent hunger. The dukkha Buddha refers to is suffering upon suffering, or suffering of the spirit. This pain roots from tanha, or desire. Here, desire means to fulfill the ego’s needs. The quest for personal fulfillment causes dukkha, because one sees the world in his or her own projections and not what is the case. If we only seek the satisfaction of our egos, we will suffer. This behavior will create a rift between the interconnectedness of the world and our own egos. To be content, one must seek and act as if one is connected to all others and one must work with compassion. Acting in compassion and not personal desire will limit material feelings and suffering will subside. In order to defeat the ego’s embellishment of desire or anger, one can look at his or her psyche objectively. This will put the mind and heart ahead of the ego so that it can be analyzed. Thus, one will learn to free themselves from the confinements of desire.
“Trading Dialogue for Lodging” in Zen Flesh, Zen Bones illustrates a case of someone living with tanha and experiencing dukkha. A dumb, one-eyed monk has a wordless argument with a wandering monk over lodging. The wanderer held up one finger signifying the Buddha, and the one-eyed idiot—not able to think beyond his own perceptions—thought that the one finger signified his one eye. The one-eyed man holds up two fingers to signify the wanderer has two eyes; the wandering man thinks he is signifying Buddha and his teachings. So the wanderer holds up three to show Buddha, his teachings, and his followers. Of course, the not- too-bright monk believes the fingers represent that they have only three eyes between them. Offended, he gets ready to punch the wanderer. The clenched fist shows the wanderer that the Buddha, the teachings, and the followers are all one. He feels that he lost the argument and departs. This story juxtaposes an individual who is able to look past his ego and who is not seething in suffering with someone who does live in suffering as a result of allowing a handicap to dictate how he perceives the world. The one-eyed monk is so caught up in his handicap, he become spiritually handicapped and limits his mind to the material. He cannot step back and think of himself objectively; he only lives within his perceptions.

B. A common method of Zen Buddhism is the use of koans. A koan is a puzzle with no apparent trick. This definition only scratches the surface. In practice, it is a way to exhaust rational thought or shock the mind out of the rational level. A Zen master will ask a student to explain the sound of one hand clapping. The mind has no rational answer for this and there never will be. However, through the deep act of trying to rationalize it, one will exhaust the rational. This opens the mind to a revelation. This revelation is satori. Satori is a flicker of enlightenment, where one sees beyond the rational and material. After the mind loses its rational thought process, a door is opened so that a Zen student can find the true answer which he seeks. One may attain satori only for an instant. Just because a person reaches satori once, this does not mean that he or she is enlightened.

Satori is an ongoing quest—one that will not end until death. It can be described as a light bulb flickering: when it is off the rational mind blinds you, when it is on the light hits you and you attain satori for that instance, until the light is turned off again. In Zen Flesh, Zen Bone the story “Three Days More” depicts a student who returns to his master upset that he cannot answer what the sound of one hand clapping is like. The master sends him back to keep meditating on the matter, but the student still cannot attain enlightenment. Finally, the master tells him that if he doesn’t have an answer after three more days, he should commit suicide. The student becomes enlightened on the second day. The impending doom of suicide shocked the student’s mind into letting go of the rational and finding the truth, leading to satori.

C. The split in Buddhism occurred over fundamental arguments about humanity’s lot in the universe. Are we independent or dependent? Are we to give into the mind or the heart? Buddhism grew into division based on questions such as these. The larger branch is the Mahayana, or the “Great Raft.” The Mahayana believe Buddha is to be followed by example not by the Pali Canon (Buddhist scriptures). They also believe that Buddha did not stay in Nirvana; he came back to help others attain enlightenment. Buddha is Christ-like in that he is a savior and that Buddhists look to his image for guidance. The Mahayana contend that we must look at the compassionate side of Buddha, not so much at the expansion of the mind and wisdom-seeking aspects. The Theravada, the smaller group, looks at the wise and heavy-minded side of Buddhism. Buddha, to the Theravada, dissipated from the world when he went into Nirvana. They would also say Buddha was only a man, not a God or Savior. They follow his teachings rather than exemplifying his life. This explains why they follow the Pali Canon so rigidly. While the Theravada believe that followers must reach enlightenment by themselves, the Mahayana believe reaching enlightenment should be a group effort because all life is connected. According to followers of Mahayana Buddhism, if someone reaches enlightenment, then they will renounce it and help others attain it, becoming a bodhisattva. The Mahayana way is based on cultivating the compassion to let go of the personal quest to reach Nirvana in order to help others. The Theravada believe that the individual must seek wisdom as the prime attribute to enlightenment. They shall reach Nirvana alone and transcend into an Arhat. Even the goals of the Mahayana and the Theravada differ. The Mahayana want to help everyone reach enlightenment together, but the Theravada feel that it is an individual quest to pass into nirvana.

Six Buddhist monks, three Theravada and three Mahayana, were told that they must have a foot race across the desert and the end of the race is enlightenment. The race was epic. The monks ran as fast as their legs could go, all equally set on reaching enlightenment. None of them were able to pull ahead. Dust streams followed their feet as if they wore the winged sandals of Hermes. As they approached the finish line, a Theravada monk felt something awaken in his mind and he felt unworldly speed and he pulled ahead. At the same time, one Mahayana monk felt an awakening in his heart and shifted into the lead as well. The dust from their feet choked the other four monks. They all fell to the ground and tumbled, receiving many injuries. The line of enlightenment was looming ahead and the Theravada monk looked back at the fallen monks. He shrugged as he crossed into enlightenment. The Mahayana monk saw that his comrades had fallen and stopped at the line. He watched the Theravada monk disappear into the unknown, and then looked back at the four monks lying under the desert sun—a sun with the inferno to make any man burn to death in hours. The Mahayana monk turned from Nirvana and ran back to his brothers in order to assist them on their way to the finish line. That way, they will not be lost forever.

Critique of part C:
Theravada Buddhism seems to ignore the compassionate side of Siddhartha Gautama’s life. Their individualistic focus seems at odds with Buddha’s love for all people and becomes elitist in practice. If enlightenment were to be an individual task, then why didn’t Buddha do as Mara the Evil One said and just cross over and be dead to the material world? He wanted to share his experiences and philosophies on life with others. Even if Theravada Buddhists were to rigidly follow the Pali Canon, they would still find Buddha’s ideas of interconnectedness. They recognize the Four Noble Virtues, two of which are compassion and joy in the happiness of others. Yet, they chose to ignore it in their philosophy and turned Nirvana into a selective concept. Only the elite can make it, and the elite will never look back on his or her brothers and help them find their way.