Ben Hopkins' film 37 Uses of a Dead Sheep is not what it sounds like.
While a sub-interview of the film does actually discuss these uses, it documents a story far more captivating and engaging than that of a dead sheep.
It follows the lifeline of the Pamir Kirghiz, a once-nomadic tribe forced to leave their homeland in the central Asian Pamir mountains to escape the communist regimes of Russia and China. Through the leadership of Haji Rahman Qui, the tribes last Khan, they struggle through blistering climates and battles to their final settlement in East Turkey.
The film is unique in its reflexivity, as it was common to catch glimpses of the camera crews and sound technicians. It was also reflexive in that one of the main points of the story was to recreate scenes of their past by creating silent films using the current people of the tribe as actors. The creation of this living history is documented as well within the film, as members of the tribe often spoke their mind and gave insight to certain scenes.
What intruiged me the most about the dynamics of this tribe was how communal and giving they were to each other and the travelers who passed through the Pamir on the silk route. In my mind, that's what I envision as communism at its best. However, they were constantly running from the communist regimes of Soviet Russia and China. They were self-sustainable tribe who lived off the land and their animals, as noted by the final interview of discussing how much can be done with just one dead sheep.
The final segment of the film was very intruiging as it discussed the future of the tribe, which was assimilating to modern culture at an alarming rate because of the new generation not upholding the ancient traditions. Most of the tribe has grown accustomed to skilled labor in Istanbul, leaving the agriculture and livestock behind. The growth can be seen as positive, as a female Pamir has risen to a high position in Nursing and wants to be the best in her field. This ambition and opportunity was never available thirty years previously.
I love seeing films like this. They make you realize the differences in the billions of us, and that there are other ways and walks of life that deserve and need to be appreciated and understood. It puts your own life into perspective, and may possibly question it, because you start to really think about how easy it is to live in a priviledged society.
37 Uses of a Dead Sheep
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Def Poetry Jam 9/19/09
I've been working events for 2 1/2 years now, and I can honestly say there have only been a few that stick out in my mind as inspiring and memorable.
The beginning of this school year has not proven promising. Every time I worked, something went wrong. Equipment would fail, clients would go way over their end times, departments overstepped boundaries, I would lose my cool, etc...
On my Saturday evening shift, I refused to let the event get the best of me. With a positive outlook and professional demeanor, and with enough time to set up the event, I knew I could have at least one good shift.
I was pleased beyond any expectation.
I had the honor of meeting Bruce George, the co-founder of HBO's Def Poetry Jam. He was the special guest speaker for the Poetry Club, who gave an in depth look at his rise to success and his passion for spoken word artistry. The first three hours of the event, which included a speaking portion and a poetry workshop, went almost completely unnoticed with no attendees. Finally around 9:30pm, people started to show up for the open-mic night. This is when the event truly started.
I had heard spoken word, or a Poetry Jam, in years previous in high school and on the internet, but I didn't know what to expect from peers at Towson. Needless to say, I was totally blown away. The way these students could articulate themselves with such speed, passion, and thought provoking lyrics astounded me. Students turned their lives and powerful experiences into poems, and some even brought me to tears.
The first poet spoke on how it felt to be the only person of color to graduate from her high school.
Another spoke of how it felt to be a young black man in a neighborhood highly influenced by life and crime in the street.
A young black girl exposed her addiction to drugs and the struggle she had to ween herself off.
The final girl who completely blew me away did a five-minute oration on a childhood friend who was shot and killed at a very young age. Her poem ranged from nostalgia to commenting on the black youth and the stereotypes and struggles of black culture. Of course I can't remember what she said verbatim, but her words hit me very hard. It was a shift in perspectives of understanding what it's like to grow up in an environment where people are pushed to certain limits to survive which are completely dependent on the larger context of government and city development.
It was awe-inspiring to hear voices speaking against the stereotypes of young blacks. Bruce George made a point of stressing the fact that they as young people had much more to live for than drugs, sex, violence, and gangs. He even told them not to work for anyone else but themselves.
The evening made me realized how priviledged of a life I've lived, and gave me a greater insight into the experiences of people I'll most likely encounter in my research.
Best of all, the event planner loved me so much she's requested me for all her upcoming events. And I've gotten nods from event coordinators for my job well done!
Amazing what a positive attitude will bring!
http://www.hbo.com/defpoetry/
The beginning of this school year has not proven promising. Every time I worked, something went wrong. Equipment would fail, clients would go way over their end times, departments overstepped boundaries, I would lose my cool, etc...
On my Saturday evening shift, I refused to let the event get the best of me. With a positive outlook and professional demeanor, and with enough time to set up the event, I knew I could have at least one good shift.
I was pleased beyond any expectation.
I had the honor of meeting Bruce George, the co-founder of HBO's Def Poetry Jam. He was the special guest speaker for the Poetry Club, who gave an in depth look at his rise to success and his passion for spoken word artistry. The first three hours of the event, which included a speaking portion and a poetry workshop, went almost completely unnoticed with no attendees. Finally around 9:30pm, people started to show up for the open-mic night. This is when the event truly started.
I had heard spoken word, or a Poetry Jam, in years previous in high school and on the internet, but I didn't know what to expect from peers at Towson. Needless to say, I was totally blown away. The way these students could articulate themselves with such speed, passion, and thought provoking lyrics astounded me. Students turned their lives and powerful experiences into poems, and some even brought me to tears.
The first poet spoke on how it felt to be the only person of color to graduate from her high school.
Another spoke of how it felt to be a young black man in a neighborhood highly influenced by life and crime in the street.
A young black girl exposed her addiction to drugs and the struggle she had to ween herself off.
The final girl who completely blew me away did a five-minute oration on a childhood friend who was shot and killed at a very young age. Her poem ranged from nostalgia to commenting on the black youth and the stereotypes and struggles of black culture. Of course I can't remember what she said verbatim, but her words hit me very hard. It was a shift in perspectives of understanding what it's like to grow up in an environment where people are pushed to certain limits to survive which are completely dependent on the larger context of government and city development.
It was awe-inspiring to hear voices speaking against the stereotypes of young blacks. Bruce George made a point of stressing the fact that they as young people had much more to live for than drugs, sex, violence, and gangs. He even told them not to work for anyone else but themselves.
The evening made me realized how priviledged of a life I've lived, and gave me a greater insight into the experiences of people I'll most likely encounter in my research.
Best of all, the event planner loved me so much she's requested me for all her upcoming events. And I've gotten nods from event coordinators for my job well done!
Amazing what a positive attitude will bring!
http://www.hbo.com/defpoetry/
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Dan Deacon Show 9/11
Last evening (Friday, 9/11) I had the special pleasure of attending an experimental music show at the Nicholas Cage Annex on E. Oliver Street. I had never been to a place like this before; a seemingly abandoned warehouse transformed into an artist enclave/commune type arrangement. The surrounding neighborhood was not my typical hangout spot; boarded up houses, people roaming the streets in black hoods and baby-strollers, little kids throwing rocks at my car.
I was invited to this gathering by a new friend in my Audio Documentary class, Dave Syzinski (SP?), who has become interested in my research endeavors with the art community in Baltimore. He has a lot of "ins," and really wants to help me out. I was introduced to Alex, a gentleman in a snug fitting suit and styled hair that suggests a throwback to 1950's nostalgia. He apparently has a stack of numbers, and we should have lunch sometime to discuss the new artist housing that may be put into the empty lot across the street from the Annex, where MICA students will have new and relatively cheap housing (and perhaps they'll have more than one bathroom per floor).
The people who live in these buildings have very eclectic tastes for decoration and design. They also have little contempt for dirt, grime, and mess. The bathroom I used looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years, there was no flooring, and paint brushes were scattered among the sink.
The kitchen area had been sectioned off with Christmas lights, but with good reason. All of the inhabitants food was stashed on shelves, an indication these people were rather more open with their food supply and probably didn't have the affordable funds for cabinets.
While I don't care what people think of my dress and style, it was obvious that my friend and I stuck out like sore thumbs. I was wearing matching clothes of bright purple, orange, and pink, with jeans and Converse sneakers. My friend, Billy, was in Spuries, a Stevenson U hoody, and green Polo shorts. Everybody else was as unconventional as you can get. Skinny jeans, oversized sweaters, ridiculously awful (in my opinion) hair cuts, and a general off-beat, counterculture, non-conformed look that I don't think I could attach myself to if I even tried.
The music was another interesting aspect. There was, as my friend put it, "an abrasive Canadian experimental artist," who made abrasive an understatement. At one point, between her screaming and guitar shreiking, she managed to start playing her instrument with an animal bone (I hope it was an animal). Dan Deacon finally came on around 11:30pm. A dance party ensued for the following hour, led by my exhaustion and subsequent leaving to find a 24 hour-McDonalds, cause damnit, I wanted a quarter pounder.
I was invited to this gathering by a new friend in my Audio Documentary class, Dave Syzinski (SP?), who has become interested in my research endeavors with the art community in Baltimore. He has a lot of "ins," and really wants to help me out. I was introduced to Alex, a gentleman in a snug fitting suit and styled hair that suggests a throwback to 1950's nostalgia. He apparently has a stack of numbers, and we should have lunch sometime to discuss the new artist housing that may be put into the empty lot across the street from the Annex, where MICA students will have new and relatively cheap housing (and perhaps they'll have more than one bathroom per floor).
The people who live in these buildings have very eclectic tastes for decoration and design. They also have little contempt for dirt, grime, and mess. The bathroom I used looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years, there was no flooring, and paint brushes were scattered among the sink.
The kitchen area had been sectioned off with Christmas lights, but with good reason. All of the inhabitants food was stashed on shelves, an indication these people were rather more open with their food supply and probably didn't have the affordable funds for cabinets.
While I don't care what people think of my dress and style, it was obvious that my friend and I stuck out like sore thumbs. I was wearing matching clothes of bright purple, orange, and pink, with jeans and Converse sneakers. My friend, Billy, was in Spuries, a Stevenson U hoody, and green Polo shorts. Everybody else was as unconventional as you can get. Skinny jeans, oversized sweaters, ridiculously awful (in my opinion) hair cuts, and a general off-beat, counterculture, non-conformed look that I don't think I could attach myself to if I even tried.
The music was another interesting aspect. There was, as my friend put it, "an abrasive Canadian experimental artist," who made abrasive an understatement. At one point, between her screaming and guitar shreiking, she managed to start playing her instrument with an animal bone (I hope it was an animal). Dan Deacon finally came on around 11:30pm. A dance party ensued for the following hour, led by my exhaustion and subsequent leaving to find a 24 hour-McDonalds, cause damnit, I wanted a quarter pounder.
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