the eye

� e magazine of the Columbia Spectator05 March 2009 / vol. 6 issue 6

OK go talks SEAS and music hum \\\ bilingualism on broadway \\\ lemony snicket makes sweet music

Columbia Bluesexamining mental health and self-care on campusby Tom Faure

“�e depressed person was in terrible and unceasing emotional pain, and the impossibility of sharing or articulating this pain was itself a component of the pain and a contributing factor in its essential horror.”

�at’s the opening sentence of David Foster Wallace’s story “�e Depressed Person,” and it buzzes with a troubled self-awareness that transcends the usual Wallace modus operandi. �e story follows the thoughts of an unhappy young woman—“the depressed person”—afflicted by self-doubt and paranoia; but it’s the inner echoes of her ill feelings, which she cannot transmute from retches of emotion to communicable formulations of language, that make her feel most desperately alone.

Such ineffability is a theme of this week’s lead story, Tom Faure’s personal and investigative account of mental health issues at Columbia, where a sorrowful miasma still lingers from the death of one of its students. And ineffability seems especially

prescient in a week that saw the New Yorker’s disturbing account of the life and suicide of Wallace—a writer so recently at the peak of his career, a writer so capable of producing words by the bucketful, and yet a writer who, for all his novels and books of stories, couldn’t manage to write his way out of desolation.

As Faure’s story makes clear, depression is not something that can be contained by facile descriptions, or soothed with platitudinal remedies. �e sad life of David Foster Wallace, though, suggests that not even one of the clearest-eyed chroniclers of humanity could claw his way out of its darkest disappointments and perturbations. Writing about art, Wallace likened the slow embrace of a difficult work to people “pounding and pushing and kicking” at a locked door only to discover that the door opens outward, and that “we’ve been inside what we wanted all along.” If only, we lament, he had believed the same thing about life.

—�omas Rhiel

LETTER FROM THE EDITORCOLUMBIA BLUES

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\\\ EYESITESBad at Tea, Good at Tirso Tess Rankin

Self-Medicated Ariel Pollock

Depressions Tony Gong and Evan Omi

\\\ EYE TO EYEVan Am Jam Band Zach Dyer

Tom Faure examines the mental health of Columbia students and reflects on his own experiences with depression, pg. 07

cover photo by Linda Carrion

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ARTS\\\ FILMFilms Fight for �eir Rights Isaih Everin

\\\ THEATER¿Estás Confused Yet? Leslie Ribovich

\\\ MUSIC & BOOKSSnicket’s Duet Adam Kuerbitz

Editor-in-Chief�omas Rhiel

Managing Editor, FeaturesMelanie Jones

Managing Editor, A & EHillary Busis

Deputy Editor, FeaturesRaphael Pope-Sussman

Senior Design EditorMeredith Perry

Photo EditorKristina Budelis

Online EditorRyan Bubinski

Eyesites EditorCarla Vass

Interview EditorZach Dyer

Film EditorPeter Labuza

Music EditorRebecca Pattiz

Books EditorYin Yin Lu

Food EditorDevin Briski

Art EditorHannah Yudkin

�eater EditorRuthie Fierberg

Dance EditorCatherine Rice

TV EditorChristine Jordan

Style EditorHelen Werbe

Production AssociatesSamantha AinsleyAlexander IveyTalia SinkinsonShaowei Wang

Copy EditorsWesley BirdsallKatrin Nusshold

Spectator Editor-in-ChiefMelissa Repko

Spectator Managing EditorElizabeth Simins

Spectator PublisherJulia Feldberg

Contact Us:eye@columbiaspectator.comeye.columbiaspectator.comEditorial: (212) 854-9547Advertising: (212) 854-9558

© 2009 �e Eye, Spectator Publishing Company, Inc.

FEATURES

Submit your creative writing to the Eye.

We are now accepting short stories, narrative non-fiction, and humorous essays. For more information, e-mail eye@columbiaspectator.com.

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What We’re Into �is Week1. Online archive of Ed Helms’ reports for �e Daily Show: Particularly the video on Tonik, an “extreme health care” offering from California Blue Cross. Check it out.

—Raphael Pope-Sussman, Features Editor

2. Jason Segel: He’s a regular in the Judd Apatow crew of funnymen, but one of the least appreciated. After one episode of the short-lived NBC comedy Freaks and Geeks, I guarantee you’ll want to join his fan club, if not have his babies.

—Christine Jordan, TV Editor

3. Mad Men: I am probably the last person in the world to start watching this show, but in the off chance that there is anyone out there who hasn’t seen it yet, I highly recommend you Netflix it immediately!

—Carla Vass, Eyesites Editor

4. Izze Sparkling Pomegranate juice: It truly is the drink of the gods, and it has an uncannily vinous taste...

—Yin Yin Lu, Books Editor

5. Phoenix: Sophia Coppola’s movies introduced me to this French band that doesn’t sound French, and their new single “1901” was a catchy reintroduction.

—�omas Rhiel, Editor-in-Chief

6. Dance Parties: What is more fun than rocking out at 3 a.m. to “Living on a Prayer,” or maybe Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies”? Who needs the hassle of standing in a crowded bar screaming over music when you could be dancing to it? Conclusion: there should be more spontaneous (or not) late night dance parties on this campus.

—Ruthie Fierberg, �eater Editor

7. DailyCandy’s daily emails: Maybe I have been liv-ing under a rock, but I just heard of DailyCandy.com and signed up for their email newsletters on fashion, restaurants, and other city-specific events.

—Meredith Perry, Senior Design Editor

8. �e Dow Jones Industrial: Someone needs to be...—Zach Dyer, Interview Editor

9. �e Inevitable Watchmen Backlash: When fan-boys go on a witch hunt for Zack Snyder next week for ruining Alan Moore’s graphic novel, you first heard it would suck here.

—Peter Labuza, Film Editor

10. Make-your-own-pizza parties: For some reason I’ve been to many of these lately ... and I’m not complaining. �e pizzas are fun to make and you can vary the shapes, toppings, etc. My favorite: pizza on baguette bread. Yummm.

—Helen Werbe, Style Editor

EDITORS’ TEN

�e other night I put a mug of water in the mi-crowave for two minutes, went to pull it out, and promptly burned my hand, which resulted in two still healing blisters. �is demonstration of ab-sentmindedness or sheer stupidity aside, however, my experiences in the past few weeks have left me feeling incredibly competent. Living in a residen-cia with hundreds of Spanish students, a cafeteria, a spiteful microwave, and a mini-fridge didn’t immediately impart to me a feeling of grown-up-ness. Travel, however, did.

One of the perks of Europe is that it is a rela-tively small continent and easy to traipse across. After a month of intensive language classes, our program took us on a trip to Segovia, Toledo, and Madrid. From Madrid, we scattered—I, with two friends, in the direction of Rome for a four-night stay in the cheapest hostel we could find.

And then we walked. It rained every day we were traveling, and so I walked holes into already soaking wet boots. I wore a scarf around my head in lieu of an umbrella so I could see every pos-sible detail of the breathtaking city. Being an uninformed traveler, I was shocked to find that the church housing Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Teresa was 10 minutes from our hostel. Being bad with maps, I took one day to wander on my own and get completely lost after my trip to the Vatican.

I ended up in a residential neighborhood, walking with purpose—so much so that sev-eral Italians stopped me for directions and then watched as I stuttered out apologies in Spanish/Italian—until I reached what I thought should be the river but was instead a highway and a moun-tain. Slightly daunted, I found a hotel and showed the concierge my map. “Dove? En el mapa?” He responded that it was not on the map (always a promising sign) and gave me a larger one. After he pointed me in the direction of the center of the city, I made a wrong turn out of the hotel, and

walked around the block, I was finally success-fully on my way.

Spain is abroad, but on the surface, it is not terribly foreign in all the foreboding senses of the word—siesta alone is not enough to make culture shock set in, or make me feel like I’m 12. Italy too is sufficiently familiar and comforting. �at being said, I am in a place that is distinct in many ways from what I am accustomed to, and the differ-ences emerge bit by bit every day. Luckily, my trip taught me more than the Spanish word for shoe insert (plantilla); I am, despite what my finger blisters might say, capable enough to function alone. With my two very wet feet and a cursory grasp of the language, despite being cell phone-less and alone, I will be just fine.

With this realization, I returned home to Spain to start classes at the University of Granada. It is not a place where I expected small class sizes. I was half hoping, in fact, to sit in a vast lecture hall unnoticed. But since comparative literature is not a wildly popular field here, I am consigned to the ugliest building on campus (Orthodontia, on the other hand, is beautiful) and sitting in classes with under five people.

One of my professors has assured the four of us that we will become like a family. She speaks quickly with a strong Andaluz accent, but has encouraged me to stop her if I ever get lost, and explains jokes she thinks I won’t understand. Another professor seemed frankly surprised to see me back on the second (and third, and fourth) day of class. Little does she know that, compared to walking across Rome or even navigating the complex system of picking up photocopies for class, sorting out essentialism from formalism is relatively straightforward. Here, at least, I am fully adult.

This competence is reassuring and allows me to obsess a little less, though I will always arrive 10 minutes early to events that will al-ways begin 15 minutes late. I usually spend the interim time walking around the surrounding streets in circling, snake-like paths. And with my walking skills honed, I know that I will not only still get where I am going five minutes be-fore anyone else, but enjoy the meandering trip I took to get there. a

Bad at Tea, Good at TirsoTEXT AND PHOTO BY TESS RANKIN

THE EYE ABROAD

COMPILED BY CARLA VASS

AND SO I WALKED HOLES INTO ALREADY SOAKING WET BOOTS.

�ere’s depression, and then there’s Teen Depression (you know who you are, Peter Petrelli look-a-likes). Teen Depression can, like, totally suck, especially if you’re marooned in the god-foresaken suburbs. But you know what was worse? �e Great Depression of the ’30s. With a recession looming on the horizon and masses of teens still stuck living with lame parents and go-ing to lame high schools, the question begs to be asked: What was better, Teen Depression or the Great Depression?

MusicPeople during the Great Depression listened to a wide range of music, from big band groups led by men like Duke Ellington to the sounds of Louis Armstrong and other jazz musicians. Teen de-pression usually results in listening to the same mixed CD with really meaningful acoustic music that kind of all sounds the same. Popular choices include “I Will Follow You Into the Dark,” and any song by Bright Eyes. Winner: Teen Depression. Conor Oberst is totally this generation’s Bob Dylan and John Lennon combined.

EmploymentDuring the Great Depression, unemployment was rampant and the few jobs that were available were low-paying or temporary. Teens have limited prospects but can usually score a gig at the local shopping mall, working at Hot Topic or American Eagle. �e pay isn’t great but at least the income can be used for funny t-shirts and Twilight posters instead of basic subsistence. Winner: �e Great Depression. �ere is something inherently meaningless in spending three hours racking charm bracelets and folding t-shirts for money that will inevitably be used to purchase those same items.

FilmBecause of the hard times, most Hollywood films were escapist fantasies with lavish sets and rags-to-riches story arcs. For today’s teens, sometimes movies offer the perfect escape from lame parents and the boring suburbs, especially if the movies are really meaningful and not main-stream, like Donnie Darko and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. While the implementation of the Hayes Code put a damper on what could be shown on screen in the ’30s, teens still need a guardian to see anything above PG-13. Winner: �e Great Depression. In those movies, it

wasn’t necessary to read fan message boards for six hours to form a vague idea of what the rab-bit character (in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) had to do with anything.

FashionUniversally in pubescent emo fashion, we wit-ness the awesome phenomenon of teens wear-ing excessive amounts of black eyeliner. Never before in history has a fashion item existed that makes people look so much like pandas. Hobos of the Great Depression tried, by wearing dirt on their faces, because they were unable to take showers.Winner: Teen Depression. Black eyeliner is just much more consistent.

Dwelling�e suburbs are the Mecca for teens downtrodden by the commercialization of their town centers, dominance of their high school jock population, and the 40 percent soccer mom demographic. But, then again, the suburbs are pretty kick-ass,

considering you’re always a few minutes away from a fast food place, and the per capita income is fairly high. �e Shantytowns of the Great Depres-sion would be jealous of both.Winner: Teen Depression, especially if you have a Wendy’s in your town.

HealthLooking across the members of My Chemical Romance, the physical image of teen depres-sion is skinny and malnourished—often with frizzled hair to demonstrate optimal amounts of unseemliness. Here, it seems that the Great Depression bore great influence on these states of physical health. How do we judge when both are equally unhealthy?Winner: Teen Depression, simply for getting less credit for it.

Overall Winner: Teen Depression. We hope that this completely arbitrary and contrived test will make you feel better about the $125 you dropped to see �e Postal Service in 9th grade. a

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How many times have you stepped on a smudged flier offering counseling and support services in a bathroom stall or a neglected corner of a hallway? �ey are easy to ignore—the suc-cinct phrases are so often repeated that they have become clichés.

Fatigue. Stress. Frustration. Most students have conditioned themselves to ignore these problems rather than confront them. It is easier to drink up or take a quick hit than to actually ask yourself whether something might be wrong. �is cycle of pain and suppression has recently been brought to scientific light in a study conducted by Mark Olf-son, a professor of clinical psychiatry at Columbia.

Olfson ran the first large-scale, evidence-based study to draw on multiple disciplines and include diagnostic information on personality disorders. �e information was gathered from 44,000 in-terviews that were conducted with people of the ages 19 to 25. Interviewees were asked to recall their behavior over the previous year based on symptoms listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, which doctors use to diagnose mental heath disorders. According to this manual, a personality disorder is essentially “a long-standing and maladaptive pattern of perceiving and responding to other people and to stressful circumstances.” �e study’s findings are simultaneously shocking and expected.

According to the numbers, almost half of those questioned had a psychiatric disease over a one-

year span. Additionally, approximately one in five students have, at some point, failed to fulfill an obligation, had a legal problem, done something dangerous, or caused social problems by misus-ing alcohol. “We found that some disorders, such as alcohol use disorders, were more common in college than non-college attending young people, while the reverse was true of bipolar disorder and drug use disorders,” said Olfson.

�e causes of this are yet to be determined. �e study did find, however, that the alcohol and drug abuse category had the lowest rates of people seeking help. Considering that so many of us are taking part in this activity in college, is it any wonder that students ignore their troubles and call them habits rather than addictions? It is easy to brush off a problem that appears to be so prevalent in our environment.

�e United States is not alone when it comes to widespread drinking among college students. �ough Americans have been fascinated for years with the “French Paradox,” that of a nation with a reputation for drinking yet not suffering its down-sides, numerous recent studies show it to be false. French men, for example, have the highest rate of liver disease compared to men of other nationali-ties. In fact, the problem with drinking in France, especially with youths, appeared so dangerous in the ’90s that the “Loi Evin” was established. �is law prohibits alcohol advertisements on televi-sion and alcohol sponsorship of sporting events. Dr. Michel Craplet, a psychiatrist who represents France at Eurocare, speculates that the reason for such pervasive consumption is that, “it’s in the head, in the culture. We don’t need the alcohol

lobby here because we view wine passionately.” In France, it seems, the environment has a huge ef-fect on the predominance of the drinking culture, just as it does at American schools.

Because this was the first large-scale study of its kind, it is hard to say whether the amount of students affected has been growing over the years. �e main reason so many of these disorders surface during college is that their diagnosis is rare during earlier years. “�e way personalities are defined—the fact that they have to be pervasive, persistent, and not limited to one development stage—makes the diagnosis of personality disorder in clinical practice relatively uncommon in child-hood or adolescence,” said Olfson.

Whether this is a recent growth or not, a major problem furthers it—the lack of treatment taking place. According to Olfson, “much more needs to be done to make mental health and substance abuse treatment accessible to young people.” He sug-gests extending access to self-help groups, college counseling centers, and mental health professionals within student health centers. “Such efforts might take the form of voluntary and confidential mental health screening, college wide efforts to de-stigma-tize mental health care, and greater availability of the services themselves,” said Olfson.

Columbia offers Counseling and Psychological Services, Alice’s advice, and various student-run support groups to those in need. All of these are admittedly helpful, but only to a certain extent. �e counseling sessions offered are limited by time, fees, and insurance policies. Support groups can provide a helpful space for sharing and un-derstanding, but when serious medical attention is needed, there may not be much they can do. Olfson’s study, as it stands, can’t yet solve these issues. It can, however, be taken objectively and act as a warning, even just a reminder, that the extremes we sometimes go to for relief can often lead to long-term consequences. a

Self-Medicated

BY VALERIYA SAFRONOVAPHOTO COURTESY OF WEBSHOTS TRAVEL

alcohol and psychiatric disorders in college

IDEAS

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Out at Columbia“Hey, can I get your number? But really quickly, be-cause I’m actually on a date right now.”

—Guy to girl at Canons

Man at urinal #1: I’d like to smack the motherfucker who invented the button fly.Man at urinal #2: Seriously. He clearly wasn’t a drinker.Man at urinal #1: It’s just so selfish.

OVERHEARD

Teen Depression versus the Great DepressionBY TONY GONG AND EVAN OMIILLUSTRATION BY REBEKAH KIM

CRY-OFF

APPROXIMATELY ONE IN FIVE STUDENTS HAVE, AT SOME POINT, FAILED TO FULFILL AN OBLIGATION, HAD A LEGAL PROBLEM, DONE SOMETHING DANGEROUS, OR CAUSED SOCIAL PROBLEMS BY MISUSING ALCOHOL.

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Andy Ross, SEAS ’01, has been the guitarist, key-boardist, and vocalist extraordinaire for pop-rock band OK Go since 2005. Before that, Ross ruled the Columbia music scene with his band The A-Ross Experience. The band OK Go began to garner a fan base with the propagation of its clever music videos on YouTube, and has been growing in popular-ity every year since. The band is set to release an album on March 24, and will play the Music Hall of Williamsburg on March 8. Zach Dyer and Andy Ross discuss OK Go’s politically active projects and, shockingly, why Music Hum may not be a huge waste of time.

I know there is an album coming out soon, but what is OK Go up to?Well, right this very second we are in the studio with Dave Friedman, we’re in upstate New York in Fredonia. He has this converted house that he turned into a studio that he’s been recording in since like ’95. ... It’s a pretty awesome place to be. Well, I should modify that, it’s not the most awesome place to be in the middle of winter. But it’s cool, we’re certainly in the middle of nowhere, which is great to just be isolated and work on the record. We live here too! Some-times we don’t leave the studio for like four days. But what we’re doing now, we’ve been here for a total of six weeks, and we’re hoping to finish in this next final week, which seems a bit optimistic. But if not, we’ll be back!

What does the new album offer fans that past albums haven’t?It’s definitely going to be a new record for OK Go, I think in all the right ways. �is record gives us a few more looks. �ere are some parts that are more poppy than OK Go’s been and there are some parts that are more dark and more

dramatic, and most importantly, I’d say that it’s a little more honest. I’d say the lyrics are more personal. ... It’s definitely not as much rock ’n’ roll as the last record was but it’s still going to be fun, just more dark and dramatic.

What was the Columbia music scene like when you were here?I thought it was great. �ere was this organiza-tion called “Columbia Music Presents...” but I don’t know if that still exists. And it was actually a really great student organization for organizing bands and shows and, typically, the shows were actually good! A lot of the bands that I played with, and my bands played with, were typical indie rock stuff but there was also a small speck of jam bands. Most of the time we did shows at the West End. I hear that it no longer exists. What a bummer. �e West End was really cool—it was a landmark! I can’t believe it’s not there anymore. Most of the shows were either in the West End basement, or Faculty House.

We also had a Beatles cover band that I can confidently say took the campus by storm, and we even did a Van Am Jam where bands played on the Van Am Quad on Friday afternoons, which was definitely the high point of my Columbia music career. I thought it was really good and that student organization was really positive and did a great job at helping bands perform. They always had money and dealt with the school, made sure there was always practice space, and could make sure that shows really happened.

Do you think Columbia or your time here shaped you as a musician?Absolutely. Just in general, I’d say that my ex-perience at Columbia was more worth it to be in the city than the stuff I actually learned in class. It probably doesn’t help that I don’t actually use my education from there at all. But I totally loved my Columbia experience and I think a lot of that had to do with New York being there. You know, having the option to see any show, any type of music from classical to ethnic mu-sic, anything at all—it’s all there! And it has to affect you.

Even the Columbia curriculum, actually, I’d say informed me. Music Hum definitely changed how I thought about some types of music. It certainly did its job by making me more edu-cated about classical music and from there I got really into classical and started playing piano, basically because of that class. I know the core and especially Music Hum can sometimes get knocked but it definitely worked for me in basi-cally every aspect.

In addition, the people that go to Columbia are definitely a certain type of person and have their

own musical tastes and styles. I probably learned as much from my friends’ musical interests than I did from anything else. In basically every aspect, Columbia totally reshaped the way I think about music.

Are you excited to come back and play in New York?Absolutely. I actually stayed in New York after graduation for about three years and a friend from Columbia, Travis Harrison, opened a re-cording studio and a label called Serious Busi-ness Records [with me]. And that is still around, he is still doing it and it’s in SoHo now, doing really well.

I still have a ton of friends in New York and it’s great to come in for a few days and go to some restaurants and hang out with some people—it’s like satisfying my New York fix. I always look forward to it. It’s great to play at these venues that when I was at Columbia just seemed unat-tainable. We’ve played Irving Plaza, Bowery, and the Madison Square Garden �eater last year with Snow Patrol. New York is great, definitely the city I look forward to most.

Just a year ago, you played the Bowery for an Obama benefit, and around the same time you recorded the EP “You’re Not Alone” to benefit the musicians affected by Hurricane Katrina. Do you think the political activism of the band is at all informed by your time at Columbia?It’s definitely been enhanced. Damien has been pretty politically active even before I joined the band. In 2004 he wrote a paper called “How Your Band Can Fire Bush” and distributed that to a lot of artists. So he’s always been pretty politically active but when I came on, that was definitely enhanced. I’m pretty politically active, but I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily an activist.

I think the New Orleans project was a great cause. We went down there and saw firsthand what had happened and it was a pretty devastat-ing, pretty emotional experience. �e EP was to help out a lot of the musicians down there.

So I’d say as far as my Columbia experi-ence, a lot of my friends at Columbia were into politics and into activism, so I’ve sort of been surrounded by those people. I think that keeps you aware of what’s going on and makes you want to do stuff. a

Van Am Jam Band

BY ZACH DYERPHOTO COURTESY OF BIG HASSLE MEDIA

zach dyer interviews andy ross

“COLUMBIA TOTALLY RESHAPED THE WAY I THINK ABOUT MUSIC.”

COLUMBIABLUES

examining mental health and self-care on campus

by Tom Faure • Photos by Linda Carrion

Last year I served as edi-tor-in-chief of the Columbia Daily Spectator. It’s a title that has a nice ring to it, and I had a great experience. But as my year as editor progressed, I became aware that the mild depression I’d had for years was intensifying. I had a breakdown last summer and have since become fascinated with mental health care, as part of a junket through support networks, therapy, medication, and self-care.

EIC, InterruptedI felt the first extended period of sadness about 11 years ago, when I moved from England to the United States. Back then the melancholy was disconcerting, but it also had a cyclical, seasonal aspect that made it tolerable. I was a kid, and the random dejection felt like an aberration.

As I grew older and became more concerned about these feelings, I still resisted seeking help. I figured that everyone must be kind of crazy, so why seek treatment? I was also afraid of mistak-enly exaggerating my symptoms, since I had no basis for comparison. And, of course, I was scared and ashamed. I did well enough academically in high school and my underclassman years, so I didn’t see therapy as a high priority in my busy schedule. I tried to deal with the sadness myself, working to see the glass half full. But sometimes, you can’t just think yourself out of a funk. Even-tually, amid the year-long stress of Spectator and a summer spent alone and far from home, it was too much to take.

Many nights I rolled around in bed, unable to sleep. I fought against my mind’s own impulses. A random thought, the beginning notion of a dream, or remembering a forgotten and unfinished task—each led to hasty conclusions of despair, guilt, extreme feelings of sadness. I tossed and turned but could not shake it; the pain was like a bad itch that you can’t quite locate.

Disorientation, uncertainty, confusion—these words don’t just describe moods, but also epis-temological and sensory mistrust, a disconnect between outside stimuli and my brain. So I would sit and look out at Morningside Park through the small amount of space my window could open, waiting for the sun to rise.

�ere’s a horrifying irony to depression. It is essentially an irrational mechanism, rooted in the chemical and neurological. And yet it often proj-ects a twisted and cruel line of reasoning, within which relatively minor troubles transform into major disruptions. �e vicious cycle seems tauto-logical. I am fearfully aware that one day I may no longer be able to elude its cold grip.

And here’s the thing: I’m just a mild case. And, of course, I’m just one in many.

Stigma and Subjectivity: Perceptions of Depression at Columbia

A lot of students on campus deal with mental illness. I am narrowing my focus down to de-pression, not addressing such topics as bipolar disorder, substance abuse, eating disorders, learning disabilities, OCD, or the issue of sui-cide. There are too many questions to ask, and experts disagree not only on how to treat mental illness, but also on how to document, classify, and diagnose it. Understanding depression is difficult—neither the depressed nor their

doctors can fully grasp it. Does feeling like shit equal depression? It’s a

question with which doctors, therapists, legisla-tors, and interest groups continue to contend. �e definition in the Diagnostic and Statisti-cal Manual of Mental Disorders, the industry standard, encapsulates and acknowledges the diversity and vagueness of mood disorders, within which the umbrella term “depression” is one sub-set.

Spectator reporters have been conducting a survey to learn more about how students view or experience the symptoms, diagnosis, treatment, and perception of depression on campus. �e find-ings will serve for an occasional series set to run

in the Spec in the coming weeks, which will delve deeper into campus mental health issues. While compiling this survey, I became interested in ex-ploring these issues through a subjective lens, not merely with facts and figures.

�e more than 150 students we surveyed in the course of this article estimate that anywhere from 0.5 to 100 percent of Columbians have experienced symptoms of depression. Clearly, the condition is not understood the same way by everyone. Many respondents distinguish the disease from its symptoms. �eir estimates of how many students suffer from symptoms averages out to about 24 percent, with about half of them reporting hav-ing experienced symptoms of depression at some point in their lives.

Most respondents note the sense of vulnerabil-ity that comes with revealing what some perceive as a weakness. “I don’t have experience talk-ing/hearing about this, but I would imagine it is a difficult topic to bring up,” writes Julina Guo, a sophomore in Columbia College. “Columbia/Bar-nard students pride themselves on being self-suf-ficient and independent.”

Some simply trivialize the phenomenon. “No one wants to talk to a downer,” writes one respondent.

We like to think of Columbians as enlightened, but in the echo chamber of our self-conscious-ness, these voices—or the fear of them—carry a

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I TOSSED AND TURNED BUT COULD NOT SHAKE IT—THE PAIN WAS LIKE A BAD ITCH THAT THAT YOU CAN’T QUITE LOCAL.

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lot of weight. Perhaps these few disdainful voices ring so

loudly because people aren’t talking about mental health that much. Out of 162 respondents, less than 15 find that students are comfortable talking about mental illness with others. �e overwhelm-ing majority of respondents blames this taboo on a stigma on campus against mental illness.

�is presents an interesting contradiction: a lot of people suffer from symptoms, and yet, despite the fact that most respondents seem comfortable discussing depression, only a few indicate that the topic is an open one on campus. What is tolerated intellectually is still not embraced publicly.

And beyond the minority that trivializes the illness, students suffering from depression are also uncomfortable talking to the more friendly majority. One sophomore notes how even those sympathetic to her illness can be difficult to talk to: “I do not think others will understand if they do not feel the same.”

Other respondents echo that fear. �e ineffa-bility of the condition can create a communication breakdown, and the students may also carry a fear of being defined by their illness.

Many Columbia students appear comfortable discussing depression on a survey, many suffer from symptoms, and many seem aware of a taboo over the subject. Given the prevalence of depres-sion, and general sympathy for the condition,

it shouldn’t be so difficult to talk about this topic. �ere seems to exist, then, a multi-faceted paradox between the discourse about Columbia as an open campus and the deeply rooted stigmas against depression. �e root of this contradic-tion might be the ineffability of the disease. It’s hard to describe, it’s hard to communicate. And that contributes to the isolation of those suffering from it.

Treating the IneffableLike dark matter, we don’t understand fully how this state of mind—and this state of the brain—works. We know that chemical imbalances are a major factor, as are one’s environment and expe-rience. Psychiatrists prescribe medication some-times as swiftly as after a 40-minute conversation, aided only by a therapist’s notes and the patient’s

description of the symptoms—a description that we’ve seen can be difficult to pin down. Patients have very little context within which to place their experience. Partly as a result of this, and partly as a result of the complexity of our brains and per-sonalities, the best a doctor can do is measure the intensity of a small portion of potential indicators and symptoms.

Just as there’s no blanket understanding of de-pression, there’s no blanket cure. Most treatments of depression involve a combination of therapies: psychoanalysis à la Woody Allen-era New York City still enjoys its popularity, but treatment is more practical and utilitarian today. A results-oriented, mish-mash of counseling, behavioral therapy, analysis, and medication is the routine way of tackling symptoms.

Another barrier to treatment in college is that many behavioral symptoms of depression appear to be behavioral symptoms of, well, col-lege. Seemingly everyone’s up late, not sleeping enough, and taking on too much work. Colum-bia’s decentralized organization, the autonomy the school breeds, and other things specific to our campus can make it difficult to notice if a person is withdrawing socially. Both the good student and the poor student can skip class for a week and lie in bed. It’s just hard to tell the difference between who’s lazy and who’s depressed.

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IT’S A LONG-TERM PROCESS, AND THERE’S NO QUICK FIX. THERE ARE SETBACKS.

�e Tentacles of Mental CareGiven the complexity of the issue, it seems clear that there’s only so much the University can do to create a safe environment. �e institution offers many services, but it must seek a balance between protecting itself in terms of liability and caring for its students.

CPS (Columbia Psychological Services) has a staff of about 25 psychologists and psychiatrists, and is widely regarded as one of the best mental-health programs of the Ivy League schools. �e ad-dition of satellite counseling centers in residence halls and the availability of an on-call clinician after business hours have received well deserved praise. In 2006, the Spectator reported that 23 percent of Barnard students had sought guidance from Furman Counseling Center, and that 15 to 16 percent of Columbia University students entered counseling services each year.

“Is that because there are many more stu-dents who have problems worthy of counseling, or that the stigma has somewhat been mitigated to seek counseling? Is it a product of the access we think we’ve created or the diversification of the staff? I don’t think anyone can answer those questions,” CPS director Richard Eichler said at the time.

Expanded programming on campus looks to address issues like stress or relationships that can contribute to depression. CPS sponsors work-shops on issues ranging from relationship prob-lems or procrastination to living with a chronic medical condition or body-image concerns. Every Wednesday, Furman offers stress-manage-ment training.

Even as it offers more diverse services, Colum-bia’s vast mental-health infrastructure remains overwhelmed, especially during the short, cold days of winter. With the staff stretched thin, it can often be difficult to get an appointment. “If you don’t want to off yourself they won’t see you for three weeks,” one student writes.

Indeed, respondents’ one significant com-plaint about CPS is that the office can seem impersonal, even insensitive. Faced with limited resources, the staff must prioritize some cases over others. The only constant feature of my therapy sessions, I’ve found, is that my thera-pist must ask me once per meeting whether I’ve had suicidal thoughts. As an unintended consequence, the prioritization of suicide risk over other symptoms could potentially lead to a hierarchy that discourages those who suffer mild symptoms from seeking help. But with the whole enterprise strained, it’s hard to argue against a triage that favors those with the most severe, immediate symptoms.

Despite the recognition CPS and Furman have received, students identify a few things that de-tract from the services.

Few respondents place blame on CPS or Fur-man, but a majority suggests that the administra-tion should better publicize on-campus resources. More publicity helps confront stigma, those surveyed write, while also making it easier for students to know where to get help.

“CPS is not well presented,” one student writes. “You literally have to search for informa-tion and it’s difficult to figure out what level of

care our student medical fees entitle us to.”�ose who do make it to CPS are limited to

10 sessions. After that, you are referred out and had better have good health insurance, though Columbia will cover a portion of the cost of outside services. A junior who was quickly referred off-campus says the school helped him find an afford-able counselor. “Experience = good: they directed me to a good psychologist that the CU insurance covers, and to a sliding-scale psychiatrist.”

Some respondents suggest that the num-ber of sessions should be extended. Students’ other ideas for what could be done on campus to improve the current fight against this condition trend toward raising awareness of the disease, and easing the pressure of academic life. “It is farfetched,” Nick Fuca, a post-bac student, writes, “but make the university less competitive and more cooperative.”

One respondent writes that there may be an endemic fear of not graduating on time, and that Columbia could work to deemphasize that time-line. “Encourage them to take a lighter workload if necessary,” he writes. “Don’t have Columbia administration breathing down your neck to kick you out after 4 yrs regardless.”

Relatedly, our survey finds that some students are cautious of getting help because they know that University-mandated medical leave could potentially be on the table. (�ese leaves, it should be noted, are rare.)

As far as the campus is concerned, it seems a strong portion of students feel like depression isn’t well represented in the public dialogue. �is si-lence, on top of the successful, if limited, reach of on-campus services, constrains Columbia’s ability to ameliorate the problem.

And some students just say they want to avoid the baggage of professional help. “People are afraid of being pulled into the treatment octopus,” notes one respondent. “It has tentacles of long waits, judgmental friends, and a long, drawn-out process of recovery.”

Stigma Overrides ConfidentialityStudents list many reasons for not seeking counseling. Most distinguish the disease from its symptoms, and acknowledge that for most people only the latter can be treated. Many who

have not sought treatment say they’ve discov-ered their own methods and routines for coping. Others cite the inconvenience of adding more to already busy schedules, uncertainty as to whether they have the condition, and a lack of faith that things can get better. Many opt to share their struggles with friends in lieu of seek-ing professional help.

�e overwhelming majority of students, though, see embarrassment, shame, and fear of rejection as the prime reason that more people do not get help—even though therapy itself is confidential. In fact, less than 10 percent of those surveyed do not mention stigma in some form.

One junior writes: “�ere is a real percep-tion that if you’re depressed, it must be your fault, there is something wrong with you, rather than an attitude of ‘I’m feeling overwhelmed and depressed at the moment. I think I’ll talk to someone.’”

“Stigma is very prevalent, people feel like being unhealthy equals weakness,” Sam Rennebohm, a senior in the School of General Studies, says.

I know I felt that stigma—I didn’t seek help un-til I was truly dysfunctional. I was sleeping all day and my sense of reality began to rupture. Wak-ing up regularly at sundown with a dozen missed calls, I only sought help in September because I wanted to make it to October.

With the therapist, I’ve mostly followed a simple strategy—I ramble on about what I think may or may not be causing me to feel this or that way, she picks up on patterns of topics, and we go deeper into those issues. It’s useful to have a con-versation devoted solely to what I’m thinking and feeling. I’m also on two medications, neither at a particularly strong dose. Now I can sleep, at least on the good days. Even on the bad ones, at least I stay away from that little window.

�is program of self-care I have alluded to is crucial. I use the term slightly sardonically—you must indeed help yourself to start getting better, and no one can force you to take that first step to help yourself. But it requires so much more than just attention to one’s self: you can’t just will your way to a cure. �ere seems to be the percep-tion here that with a little willpower, you can “snap out of it.” You can’t. But you do need to be invested in improving.

Just as there is no way to neatly describe de-pression, there is no quick fix to the problem. If a patient feels a bit better after getting started, it’s never clear where the finish line is.

And that’s what students seeking help need to remember. It’s a long-term process, and there’s no quick fix. �ere are setbacks.

But if, as Rennebohm suggests, we can change the culture from one of stigma to one in which we privilege emotional, social, and psy-chological development as much as intellectual education, perhaps the suffocating fear of seek-ing help will ebb. a

Have a personal story about depression? If you’re interested in contributing to the Colum-bia Daily Spectator’s series, send an email to spectator@gmail.com.

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ANOTHER BARRIER TO TREATMENT IN COLLEGE IS THAT MANY BEHAVORIAL SYMPTOMS OF DEPRESSION APPEAR TO BE BEHAVIORAL SYMPTOMS OF, WELL, COLLEGE.

For the past few months, anticipation for Zack Snyder’s Watchmen has been exploding—climax-ing, for some, in the release of advanced screening passes and additional swag during SEAS E-Week and other campus events. But only last December, it seemed possible that the film would never even be released.

Watchmen, an adaptation of Alan Moore’s seminal graphic novel, was cast into limbo due to a legal dispute between Warner Brothers Enter-tainment and 20th Century Fox. Fan-boys and film bloggers wanted to blame Fox for the lawsuit, expressing terror that the film’s release would be postponed or cancelled—a common worry surrounding comic and fiction adaptations. As it turns out, the Fox v. WB case hinged on the fact that Fox had owned the rights to the graphic novel since 1991, and maintained the distribution rights to the film unless another company paid a buyout price—something Warner Bros had failed to do.

As the film industry has evolved, laws and regulations that control the complex issue of film rights have developed. �e modern system allows a production company to own certain rights to a film, such as production or distribution rights. �is means that different companies can control different aspects of the film’s release. Additionally, for proposed adaptations of books and comics, the intellectual property (legal property rights over artistic creations) is “optioned”—the writer and/or publisher is paid, then, usually, no longer involved in the film’s production.

�e Watchmen rights dispute was resolved in January with a financial settlement. Warner Broth-ers hadn’t bought out the distribution rights for a hypothetical film before beginning production, as they didn’t acknowledge Fox’s claim to those rights. In hindsight it seems unlikely that Fox in-tended to cancel the film’s release entirely. Instead, they only expected the payment they deserved.

But this case is not the only time film and law have collided. Another recent example of film liti-gation occurred in 2006, when Peter Jackson, di-rector of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, announced that he would not be involved with a film adapta-tion of �e Hobbit. Here, there was a problem with the deadline for intellectual rights—rights can be sold to other production companies if a film isn’t green-lit in time.

At the same time that New Line Cinema’s own-ership of the rights to �e Hobbit were about to expire, Jackson was suing the production company for an unrelated reason: merchandising rights for �e Lord of the Rings. Robert Shayne, co-founder of New Line, said that Jackson would not be involved in any further productions with the com-pany due to the disagreement. Fortunately, with

time, both conflicts were resolved independently and Jackson was made executive producer of the upcoming movie.

Watchmen and �e Hobbit are both, ultimate-ly, success stories. But other highly anticipated adaptations regularly fall into “development hell” or never get produced, albeit usually because of creative conflicts rather than legal ones. �e press often blames producers for the setbacks of their films’ releases. Objectively, entertainment law can be a tricky set of rules to work with. Not everyone is always on the same page (as with Watchmen) and personal feuds can get in the way (as with �e Hobbit). Still, incidents of film litigation can make it seem as though producers are placing their own wishes—making as much money as possible—before those of a movie’s fans—simply getting to see the film that’s causing all the commotion.

While conflicts like these can cause tension among fans and professionals alike, ultimately, everyone involved wants to see the production through. It is a shame, though, when a conflict between a few people keeps a work of art from being seen by the wider world. a

Films Fight For �eir Rights

BY ISAIAH EVERINPHOTO COURTESY OF WARNER BROS. PICTURES

when movies get in trouble with the law

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ENTERTAINMENT LAW CAN BE A TRICKY SET OF RULES TO WORK WITH.

In court cases like the battle over Watchmen, the only people who stand to lose are the fans.

FILM

WHEN ENTERTAINMENT MET JURY DUTY

While the legal realm can control when movies will be released, it’s comforting to know that Hollywood can always hit back at the law. Here are three of the best films about courts, lawyers, and due process.

12 Angry Men—A simple trial becomes a contested debate about the concept of innocence. Henry Fonda and Lee J. Cobb go head-to-head over the verdict of a young boy who killed his stepfather ... or did he? Sidney Lumet’s adaptation of the classic play is an intense, claustrophobic adventure with numerous twists.

Adam’s Rib—When lawyer Spencer Tracy takes on a client accused of killing her husband, he doesn’t expect his wife, played by Katharine Hepburn, to defend the other side. A battle of the sexes more than a battle of defense and prosecution, Adam’s Rib combines an ingenious screwball comedy with compelling courtroom drama.

Primal Fear—Richard Gere must defend alter boy Edward Norton, who is accused of murdering a priest. Deceit and mystery abound, and a young Norton has a showstopping and ingenious performance.

—Peter Labuza

In the Heights and numerous other plays, includ-ing Elliot, A Soldier’s Fugue, also speaks to the important relationship between language and culture. Her insight and authority challenge the notion that Broadway is purely a means of profit.

When asked whose idea it was to incorpo-rate Spanish into her Tony-winning musical, she responds, “It feels less like an idea and more like a simple thing that had to happen, naturally. Lin wanted the show’s music to reflect what it would sound like to walk down a street in Washington Heights on a summer day—all the different music you’d hear—reggaeton, salsa, merengue, hip-hop, pop. Naturally, the language felt the same way—you’d hear different languages, accents, cadences.”

Hudes echoes Caridad Svich’s feelings, believing that the audience will understand a play’s story even if they don’t understand the literal words. “Because my first language is English, and I am much, much shakier with the Spanish, I have a natural tendency to translate things in my head anyway,” she says. “Most

of the Spanish lines are ‘translated’ in some way in the following English lines. To me, language is anoth-er form of music. So even hearing Spanish words and cadences, it creates a kind of music for the audience. Whether or not you understand every single word, you still hear the rhythm of the language.”

Laurents and Hudes’ awareness of the cultures whose stories they are telling makes their Broad-way shows more artistically credible. �ey intend to represent the culture, not just to make a profit.

Most every playwright interviewed for this article indicated that his or her primary goal was to tell a story—whether that story was about char-acters, culture, or identity. �e language is not the end, but rather the means for communicating the story—in Spanish or English, on Broadway, or in a small non-profit theater.

However, the battle between authenticity and accessibility persists. Despite generally positive reviews, Reynolds says that the creators of West Side Story are currently in the process of taking Spanish out of the show. �e Washington, D.C., tryout of the production stuck to Laurents’ vision: when Spanish-speaking characters were in Span-ish-speaking households or with other Spanish-speaking characters, they spoke Spanish. “I Feel Pretty” became “Siento Hermosa.” Now with the show in previews—which began February 23—the creative team is in the process of determining which language best communicates the story to Broadway audiences. Laurents says that they also will no longer use a “subtitles” screen inspired by operas. Changes to the piece that make it more accessible are required in a commercial venture. However, this could compromise the artists’ origi-nal vision.

It’s a misconception to think that In the Heights is the first show about Latina/o Americans to run successfully on Broadway. �is is not the case: John Leguizamo’s 1998 one-man show Freak garnered sold-out audiences. In the Heights and Freak, however, may be anomalies in the world of the big box office. �e 1979 Zoot Suit played for less than a month, and even as recently as 2003, Nilo Cruz’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Anna in the Tropics only ran for four months on Broadway. �e show originally premiered in English in Florida and traveled to various regional companies through-out the country before winning the Pulitzer. �e English version then went to Broadway, where it received mediocre reviews and little success. Interestingly, Repertorio Español picked Anna up in 2004 in a Spanish-language production that received rave reviews.

Anna in the Tropics’ journey shines light on both authenticity and accessibility. Perhaps there really is something more authentic about having characters speak their native tongues. Or perhaps Broadway wasn’t ready for a play about Cuban workers in a cigar factory in 1929 Tampa. Yet Leguizamo proved that Broadway is not entirely afraid of Latina/o plays—Cruz’s story may simply have worked better in Spanish for a Spanish-speaking audience.

West Side Story and In the Heights aren’t direct products of immigration, nor do they prove that America has fully accepted Latino culture. Never-theless, they do indicate progress. By embracing that which is authentic and sometimes inacces-sible in language and culture, these shows reflect a changing American population and the power of an art form. a

When tourists visit Broadway for a little New York culture this spring, their guidebooks may direct them to two productions that will improve their foreign language skills.

In the Heights—which dramatizes life in the barrio of Washington Heights—won the 2008 Tony for Best Musical and recouped its 10 million dollar investment after 10 months and 337 performances. A modernized revival of West Side Story, which includes entire scenes in Spanish, premiered to rousing critical acclaim in Washington, DC in early January and opens on Broadway March 19.

To call bilingualism in theater a trend would be wrong—the word “trend” connotes something new, and, as West Side Story associate producer Bradley Reynolds notes, something that will fade. But bilin-gualism on the American stage isn’t a recent inven-tion, nor is it disappearing anytime soon. Companies such as New York-based Repertorio Español have been around for over 40 years. Other ethnic-based theater—Yiddish, Italian and Norwegian, for exam-ple—has existed in the United States as far back as the second half of the 19th century. �e first performance of Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts was produced in Chicago in Norwegian for Scandinavian immigrants in 1882.

�e success and hype surrounding In the Heights and West Side Story indicate that Ameri-can arts and entertainment have begun to accept Latino culture. �is acclamation may be long over-due—and these shows might commercialize Latino culture in a way that makes some uncomfortable—but their success on Broadway shows a progression

away from xenophobia on the American stage.According to data presented by the Census

Bureau in March 2007, 10.3 million immigrants had arrived in the United States since 2000, and many were Spanish-speaking. While this increase cannot fully explain why Broadway is producing bilin-gual shows, and while Latino and bilingual theater surely existed before 2000, theater does tend to say something about the culture in which it is created.

Because contemporary American audience mem-bers speak different languages, accessibility can be an issue. Can non-Spanish-speaking audiences still understand and relate to productions in Spanish?

Playwright Enrique Urueta, whose work includes Forever Never Comes, has confronted dif-ficulties regarding accessibility. “I’ve experienced people’s frustration first-hand with plays that have other languages in them, not just Spanish,” he says. “�ere’s a lot of xenophobia, a lot of white privilege ... this desire to always be the center of attention and importance. �at manifests linguistically.”

On the other hand, audiences can be receptive to the unknown and seemingly inaccessible. “Cer-tainly this [accessibility] is a question we’re always

asking our audiences. Are there places where you missed out?” says Caridad Svich, playwright, trans-lator and founder of NoPassport—which, according to its Web site, is “an artist-driven Pan-American theater coalition/ national theater alliance devoted to action, advocacy and change toward the foster-ing of cross-cultural diversity and difference in the arts with an emphasis on the embrace of the hemi-spheric spirit in US Latina/o and Latin-American theater-making.” Svich’s �e House of the Spirits, adapted from Isabelle Allende’s novel, currently plays at Repertorio Español in Spanish with live, simultaneous English translation.

But translation may not be necessary. Svich continues, “I find that audiences, if they don’t speak Spanish, find their way. Actors communicate so much with their bodies, with their expressive-ness. Stories communicate often without knowing the exact words that are being said.” �is speaks to the nature of theater itself—it transcends language through something more universal.

�eater companies all over the world perform in international festivals where it is assumed that audiences will not necessarily understand the precise meaning of every word. Why does this acceptance exist in other countries, but not the United States?

Playwright Elaine Romero, whose work has been produced all over the country, explains, “�is gets into the issue of whether or not language is culture. I could not make the claim that it is not. My first loyalty is to meaning and to character and story. I think our culture is inescapable in writing, even when we do not refer to it in the work.”

While not everyone would agree that art and lan-guage grow out of culture, Romero’s statement forces us to question what bilingual productions like In the Heights and West Side Story say about American culture. �e commercial nature of Broadway may call into question the ability of West Side Story and In the Heights to depict their cultures authentically.

But In the Heights started off-off-off-Broad-way—on creator Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Wesleyan University campus, where ticket sales did not get in the way of his artistic vision. And although West Side Story was always a commercial venture, director and author of the musical’s accompany-ing book Arthur Laurents feels strongly about capturing the authenticity of the characters this time around. In a recent New York Times article, he tells a touching story about his late, Spanish-speaking partner of 52 years, Tom Hatcher, who felt that “authenticating the language” would contemporize a show that Laurents says has often disingenuously represented its characters.

In the article, Laurents said he was not a fan of the 1980 revival or of what he calls the “terribly act-ed” movie version‘s “bogus accents, bogus dialect, bogus costumes.” Modernizing the play through language in the most recent revival might just give the characters the authenticity they deserve.

Quiara Alegría Hudes, who wrote the book for

¿Estás Confused Yet?

BY LESLIE RIBOVICHPHOTO COURTESY OF BARLOW HARTMAN

american theater’s march toward bilingualism

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“CERTAINLY THIS [ACCESSIBILITY] IS A QUESTION WE’RE ALWAYS ASKING OUR AUDIENCES. ARE THERE PLACES WHERE YOU MISSED OUT?”

In �e Heights creator Lin-Manuel Miranda raps a mix of Spanish and English lyrics in his Tony Award-winning musical.

THEA

TER

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“TO ME, LANGUAGE IS ANOTHER FORM OF MUSIC ... WHETHER OR NOT YOU UNDERSTAND EVERY SINGLE WORD, YOU STILL HEAR THE RHYTHM OF THE LANGUAGE.”

THEATER

�e women of Washington Heights gossip in the neighborhood salon— switching frequently from English to Spanish—about life in the barrio.

like a well-constructed series of inside jokes about musicians united around a murder.

�e Composer is Dead not only introduces its audience to the orchestra, but also promotes a love of classical music. Snicket describes the need for the promotion of intellectual pursuits, say-ing, “�ey’re both [literature and classical music] somewhat beleaguered art forms currently often overlooked in favor of newer, flashier media ... �e Composer is Dead tries to make those things perhaps a little less old-fashioned.” �ese words echo Snicket’s similar plugs for reading and independent thinking that appear in A Series of Unfortunate Events. In those books, the Baude-laire orphans often save their own lives through a combination of reading and clever ingenuity. Readers sympathize with learned, well-read characters while villains are depicted as ignorant, close-minded hoodlums.

While �e Composer is Dead brilliantly ac-complishes Snicket’s goal, I wonder exactly how much children today know about classical mu-sic. You may have seen a television ad campaign that promotes childhood engagement with the arts through fake products like “Raisin Brahms” and “van Goghgurt.” Americans for the Arts, the nonprofit organization partly responsible for the ads, claims that kids are not getting enough expo-sure to the arts inside or outside of school. If this is really the case, the future of the fine arts may depend on works like Snicket and Stookey’s more than we previously thought.

To personally assess the accuracy of this claim, I visited Bank Street Bookstore two Sundays ago, where I met six-year old �eo Haegele from Brooklyn browsing with his father and grand-mother. When I asked him if he knew any of the instruments in an orchestra, he promptly men-tioned the flute. Wanting to see just how far just how far his knowledge extended, I asked if he knew what a flute sounds like. �eo looked down and thought for a moment, then emitted a high-

pitched whistling noise. Impressed that he not only knew about flutes but also could imitate one spot-on, I gratefully thanked him and his family and left.

Perhaps the fine arts aren’t as foreign to America’s youth as some educators and public service announcers would lead us to believe. At the same time, we in Morningside Heights for-get that children around the country don’t have equal access to symphonies and theater. Books like The Composer is Dead or Anita Ganeri’s The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, to which Mr. Stookey has compared his and Snicket’s piece, expose children to music they may otherwise never have heard. “I think our objective was maybe more to instill love of this music, though, [rather] than understanding” says Stookey. “There’s only that much under-standing you can get from something like this ... We were hoping to communicate that in some way that would make other people love it too.”

Rather than teach children something they might learn in an elementary school music class, �e Composer is Dead shows children why their

music teachers—and millions of other people—lis-ten to and love classical music in the first place. For Snicket, there is an added benefit. “I think that as cultivating a love of literature and clas-sical music, you kind of double your instances of having detachment and alienation from the modern world,” he says, “which is my idea of a good time.” What we have in the end is a case of reclusive sophisticates breeding smaller reclusive sophisticates.

�ere will naturally be some children who listen to �e Composer is Dead and fail to be-come enchanted with the orchestra. I doubt I ever made it all the way through Peter and the Wolf. �ese children may instead fall in love with one of the newer, flashier forms of media Snicket mentions. Even so, the brilliance of what Snicket and Stookey have done lies in their ability to reveal the violent emotion and sheer feeling the orchestra can elicit at an age when children are perhaps most easily captivated by violence and drama. By hooking kids into a story they actually want to stick around for, the orchestra seems much less foreign and dated. Some people may find it depressing that today’s youth is more captivated by a homicide à la Law and Order than a story about nature. Even so, I might have finished Peter and the Wolf had something hap-pened to keep me listening. �ere are no wolves near my grandparents’ house outside Detroit, but there are plenty of murders. a

Carnegie Hall will stage a live performance of �e Composer is Dead on March 7 at 2:00 p.m. Snicket will narrate the story while Rossen Milanov conducts the Orchestra of St. Luke’s. Snicket will also make a pre-concert appearance at 1:00 p.m. Tickets, priced at $9, are available at the Carnegie Hall Box Office, 154 W. 57th St., or can be charged to major credit cards by calling CarnegieCharge at 212-247-7800 or by visiting the Carnegie Hall website, www.carnegiehall.org.

I wanted to like Peter and the Wolf as a child. I really did. Sergey Prokofiev’s classic composi-tion tells the story of a young Soviet boy named Peter who captures a wolf and convinces a band of hunters to send it to the zoo. �e piece is often used to introduce young children to the orchestra because each of its characters is represented by a different musical instrument—the horns signal the entrance of the brash, violent wolf, while the curiously gentle Peter is personified by the string section. My grandparents had the Opéra de Lyon recording narrated by Patrick Stewart in the CD cabinet under their television. It’s entirely possible that I had a short attention span as a child, but I just didn’t find Peter and the Wolf all that compel-ling. I remember trying to engage the story, but eventually losing interest and becoming terrifi-cally bored. Lemony Snicket agrees with me.

Snicket’s most recent work, �e Composer is Dead, is not only a book ($17.99 from HarperCol-lins) but also an entire symphony: a collaboration with Snicket’s close high school friend, esteemed

composer Nathaniel Stookey. �e book is packaged with a CD, included on the inside cover. Playing the CD while reading the book yields a combined musical and literary experience somewhat similar to Peter and the Wolf.

Snicket (writer Daniel Handler’s pseudonym) is best known as the mysterious author responsible for chronicling the lives of the Baudelaire orphans in his bestselling novels, A Series of Unfortunate Events. His macabre tone and instructive, almost educational commentary have distinguished him as a unique voice in children’s literature.

According to Snicket, the collaboration came about when he and Stookey ran into each other completely by chance after both moving back to San Francisco. “I was actually giving another interview in an outdoor café,” says Snicket, “and there came Nathaniel Stookey ... It was, in fact, such the perfect moment that the interviewer thought I’d set it up.”

Stookey, who served as resident composer un-der Kent Nagano with the Hallé Orchestra of Man-chester, England, had returned to San Francisco after a three-year stint as composer-in-residence with the North Carolina Symphony.

After their fortuitous meeting, Stookey asked Snicket to narrate a performance of Peter and the Wolf for the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra. “As I prepared for the performance,”

says Snicket, “I thought, ‘beautiful music, bad story. Surely we can do better.’” With that in mind, he and Stookey set out to create a story that had the same purpose as Peter and the Wolf—introducing the orchestra to those who are unfamiliar with it. Their collaboration, though, would have a better narrative to accom-pany the music.

Snicket expounds on the ways he thought Peter and the Wolf could be improved, saying, “Mostly my problems are: a) with the insipid story of Peter and the Wolf, and that b), even though Peter and the Wolf sets out to teach people about various parts of the orchestra, if you don’t know anything about the symphony orchestra and you leave a performance of Peter and Wolf, I think you would be unable to identify the sound of a French horn ... �e Composer is Dead makes that [the sound] clear.”

While teaching the components of a classi-cal orchestra is a tall order, Snicket and Stookey deliver beautifully. Stookey admits that it was a huge challenge to compose a score that invited comparison to Prokofiev’s classic. Even so, in �e Composer is Dead, he undauntedly displays his talent through short pieces designed to high-light the abilities of each instrumental section. Snicket sprinkles the narrative with his trademark wacky alliteration and vocabulary lessons. As true Snicket fans will notice, the book’s second sen-tence follows a formula he perfected in A Series of Unfortunate Events: it presents a vocabulary word, followed by the phrase “a word which here means” and a practical definition. As the story opens to a brassy overture of horns and wood-winds, a composer is sprawled out on his desk. �e vain inspector, voiced in the book’s accompany-ing CD by Snicket himself, proceeds to interview each section of the orchestra to uncover the truth behind the murder.

What makes �e Composer is Dead such a meaningful departure from Peter and the Wolf is the way Snicket’s wry, satirical libretto—a word which here means “the text of an opera or other long vocal work”—not only describes, but also personifies the instrumental sections. �e much-acclaimed first violins sing with confidence as they play a waltz at a society ball. �e long-suffering, underappreci-ated violas bemoan their fate to stacked chairs after rehearsal. Snicket and Stookey don’t just match instruments with the sounds they make—they show how the other parts of the orchestra and the audi-ence perceive instruments. �e story almost reads

Snicket’s Surprisingly Fortunate Duet

BY ADAM KUERBITZ IMAGES COURTESY OF HARPERCOLLINS AND JACK HUYNH

classical music for the bookish loner

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“CULTIVATING A LOVE OF LITERATURE AND CLASSICAL MUSIC, YOU DOUBLE YOUR INSTANCES OF DETACHMENT AND ALIENATION FROM THE MODERN WORLD. WHICH IS MY IDEA OF A GOOD TIME.”

Children’s lit favorite Lemony Snicket (a.k.a. Daniel Handler) and composer Nathaniel Stookey share more than their alliterative surnames. �e two teamed up to create a project that introduces kids to classical music while keeping them thoroughly entertained.

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“I THOUGHT, ‘BEAUTIFUL MUSIC, BAD STORY. SURELY WE CAN DO BETTER.’”

�e Composer is Dead, which will make the first of seven tour stops at Carnegie Hall, is a murder mystery with a whimsical musical twist.

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