oldie but goodie

This is one of my favorite feel good songs. It will always put me in a mood of nostalgia. Reminds me of early college. I learned the choreography in my bedroom. Ah, good times :)

Enjoy--

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odcLa4qj2hs
True Blue, Madonna (1985)

Interviews 101

A Year of Interviews in Retrospect

I have never been on as many interviews as I have in the past year. It all started when I graduated during the height of the century’s first recession. Okay, so it actually started when I decided to double-major in Dance and Creative Writing. My undergraduate curriculum certainly molded me into a well-rounded, articulate, educated young woman. It did not, however, provide me the same job-security as majoring in economics, accounting, nursing, engineering, etc. does.

When confronted with the question: Did you make the right decision to major in those fields, I continue to say, “Yes.” I majored in subjects that I am passionate about. I enjoyed learning, questioning, being exposed to the liberal arts even if I did not have a job waiting for me. Perhaps I could have been wiser, though—I could have taken some business courses instead of English 255: T.S. Eliot and the Four Quartets. Of course that would have better prepared me to understand budgets and grants, running a company, establishing myself in a capitalistic and very corporate society. But, I do not regret studying the mysticism of early 20^th century poetry because I learned of Eliot’s critical theories, poetic brilliance, and a myriad of classical philosophies. My education taught me to process things creatively, in a way that will be fruitful for my entire lifetime and not just my career.

But I digress: Job Interviews. Listed below is a brief reflection upon a year’s worth of interviews and also some tips/advice for interviewers from the perspective of the interviewee.

A few weeks ago I went on the best interview I have ever had. It was at Table Tales, a small restaurant and café (and catering company) located in the romantic, cobblestoned South Street Seaport area. I was greeted by one of the employees, seemingly a veteran. She was very friendly and level-headed. She offered me water, asked about my resume, and introduced me to the owner. I met with the owner in her upstairs office, where she looked over my resume, conversed with me about my background, my family, what I did in college. She, in fact, said that my resume was fascinating to her. I told her about dancing, my work in the copy-center, about my father and his career as a carpenter. Overall, I felt so comfortable. In the end, despite my hectic schedule and my imminent travel plans to The Yard, she offered me a trial run at Table Tales. She is demanding, hard-working, dedicated and expects that I will be my best self. She also understands that it takes time to become acclimated to a new job environment. I think she is very admirable in this sense, and I wish all bosses/interviewers would incorporate such dimensions into their relationships with employees.

I began my job search in early summer 2009. I was never very good at interviews. For those 15 minutes or so, I clam up and my mind goes blank. Suddenly, the educated, articulate young woman talked about in the first paragraph of this blog disappears into an enclosed shell. I have nothing to say, no questions to ask, no thoughts of my own. It’s funny because in other situations, I am usually very conversational. I am convinced that my voice even changes in interviews, it becomes softer, less defined, my voice becomes unsure of itself.

My first interview of the summer was with one of the owners of Atlantis, a chain of café's in Manhattan. I was referred there by a friend and when I went to see the owner, he got out of his black car with his black suit and sunglasses and approached me, with a cell phone to his ear. He did not take my resume, did not ask my name, he simply shook my hand and asked, “Are you fast?”

I was unsure how to answer. How can I know if I am fast or slow?  It’s a rather subject question. It is also vague and complicated. Plus, even if I am aware that I'm not fast, am I really going to say that in an interview? I don’t remember what I said but I do remember that I was very uncomfortable. He told me to come in the next day to begin working. I was a bit turned off by the fact that he did not really care about who I was. A note for all interviewers: never ask if the applicant is “fast" or something of that nature: it is  completely subjective, impersonal, and rude and has many possible answers. It can also make the applicant feel uncomfortable in the middle of an interview. It certainly made me never come back (or become a customer).

Now, obviously interviewers are trying to weed out the weakest link. But what about those links that are broken down deliberately? What about those applicants that are quite capable of doing the job well but are not good at interviews? Or what about interviewers that ask questions in a condescending, unfriendly manner?

This brings me to another horrible interview I had in the winter of 2010. In February, I went on an interview for a receptionist position at the Art Center, an art school for children in the Upper East Side. It was during one of the worst snowstorms of the season and my computer broke that morning. But I went, in boots and a skirt, to the interview. While discussing my skills, my knowledge of certain computer software, and my background as a dancer, a few things came up that I would like to share here.

1. He asked me I had any knowledge of art, paint, etc. but did not care about my answer.
I told him that I have been around art my whole life, with many friends who are artists. He then interrupted and said that was irrelevant. I think the phrasing, “Well, that’s irrelevant,” is quite confrontational and dismissive for an interviewer. And, actually, it was not irrelevant. When asked if I am an artist, I would say yes. If asked if I have knowledge of art, I would also say yes. I probably spend more time in the studio, in the museum, in the gallery than he does.

2. He also seemed to segregate dance from art, in that he said, “Well, you’re a dancer so I don’t want to hire you if you’re heart will be somewhere else.”
This certainly made me uncomfortable, as I consider myself an artist and do not separate dance from visual art. Plus, how creative can the role of a receptionist be? It is a job to make money, I applied for it because it was a way to make money while being around art (not to become a professional receptionist. I think that was clear in my cover letter).

3. He also did not seem impressed that I had worked at an after-school center (which incorporated arts and crafts), have administrative experience (he kept saying, But do you know how to answer phones?—like really, dude, does it take a brain surgeon? I have been talking on the phone, as most people have, since I was three or four. 




4. He mentioned about the other applicants being MFA, MA candidates or holders and why should I be hired? My confidence instantly dropped. Also, why are MA students competing for an entry-level receptionist position? Anyhow, these were the cloudy thoughts swirling through my brain, not my skills, strengths, or background because of his passive-aggressive question.

And here’s the kicker:

He kept commenting on how young I look!!! How arrogant of a man (and I will not make any slanderous remarks here) to bring my physical features into the interview!! He actually said, “There’s a lot of rich parents come in here--- they may actually think you’re one of the students…,” jokingly. I just looked at him. I felt discriminated and self-conscious AND I do not even look that young. 5’ 1” is perfectly within normal height for a 23 year old. And it certainly would not prevent me from doing my work. That being said, do not insult (even if it’s subtly) your interviewee, that’s a bad way to start off. It does not make your company look good.

By the way, all of this was said with a smile, on his part. He remained calm, cool and pleasant throughout even though his words were the complete antithesis of pleasantries.

Other interviews included one man (my current boss at Staples,) saying something to the effect of, “You’re a dancer so you must know how to smile and be personable.” Yeah, right because that’s all dancers do is jazz their fingers and smile doe-eyed.

One man (from The Metropolitan Museum of Art gift shop) cancelled on me and then scarcely returned my calls/emails to reschedule. He then offered me an interview for a seasonal position. It seems in certain instances, even if you’re intelligent (with a strong knowledge of art and culture), hard-working, and personable, if you’re not a member of the elite upper crust, you’re not welcome in places such as those.

In addition to interviews, I have seen ads for jobs that denounce one’s experience. I worked as a waitress for Applebee’s for nearly four years during college. It was a very busy restaurant and I always had something to do. I was upwardly mobile, starting as a host and busser and making my way up to Carside and later, to waitressing. However, many places would not even consider me because I did not have “Fine Dining” or “NYC” experience (even though Staten Island is technically a part of NYC) . One ad even said, “Do not apply if you have casual, franchise restaurant experience ie, Chevy’s, Applebee’s etc.” I am pretty sure that while at Applebee’s I served customers food, the goal of any restaurant job. I think it is degrading to put such privilege on jobs. 

Also, how can one acquire the necessary “fine dining” experience if no one will let you in? It’s a sure-fire Catch 22. I also find ads that request a photo or headshot degrading and will not even apply to them. I do not think one’s appearance necessarily reflects their capabilities; therefore I find such ads completely elitist and stay from them.

Overall, I think it is wise to remember, both as an interviewer and interviewee, a piece of simple advice someone recently told me. No matter how corny it sounds: just be yourself. I had been trying to be the best candidate in every situation but I just came out mediocre, uninteresting, and passive. I decided to stop that, to just be myself during this last interview which went very well. It was partly because my interviewer wanted to know more than just my skills and background. She allowed me to be comfortable enough to let all of my reservations dissipate. I was myself and aced the interview.

It’s all a learning curve folks. However, in this severe economy, there are many people competing for just one opening. My best advice is that practice makes better. Last year, I was dumbfounded during this process. Now I have a bit more perspective and can manage an interview. I am still not an expert but I reckon with a bit more practice I will only get better.

-m

the artist is present

and thoughts on lady gaga

I came across a YouTube video this evening featuring Lady Gaga in an interview in which she discusses her thoughts on Marina Abramovic. The first thing I find particularly troubling about this interview is Gaga's get-up. She is so clearly, perhaps overtly, channeling Madonna via the Blonde Ambition years. It is obviously a conscious pop-allusion, she is identifying with Madonna's iconic status. I will start off by saying that I have admired Madonna since the mid-nineties when I was entering adolescence, secretly investigating her music (much to my parent’s dismay). I thought her voice was pretty sweet (contrary to a Gaga friendly article I read in some magazine recently), her fashion was retro noir, she was constantly challenging her ideas of herself, and she was fairly articulate about her ambition, her role in the cultural world, and her desire to be a pop-icon.

That is not to say that Madonna is original. There were others before her that constantly challenged themselves, pushed their own artistic boundaries, reveled in controversy and public attention. Of course. However, there was something sincere about her intentions, something about her devotion to performance art and the avant-garde that was consistent. That certain je no se quos is not something I sense from Lady Gaga.

I heard of Lady Gaga sometime last year. Her name came up every once and again in the media though I was not enthralled or captured enough to care, really. Then somewhere during the winter, she became the center of the pop world and suddenly she was on par with the likes of Madonna, Cher, and other iconic women from the 20th century. Perhaps in our new century, new decade, we need someone like this-- a woman (or person) who breaks the mediocre trends of American culture. I, however, think in our collective desire to fill this gap, we reacted too hastily to Gaga's supposedly calculated performance art. In her efforts to be iconoclastic as a symbol for reappropriation, is her art contextually substantial?

And that is why my dislike quickly became loathing as I listened to her gush over Marina Abramovic. After giving the interviewer an almost verbatim description of what MoMa describes of Rhythm O , a piece Abramovic made in 1974, she continues to bat her eyes and say what a big influence Abramovic has had on her “limit laden” brain.

Then, as if it could not get any worse, Gaga proceeds to talk of Abramovic’s work as “free” and “limitless”.
When I first saw the retrospective, I found the work fascinating. How could someone be so disciplined, poised, and seemingly at ease while performing such a tedious, marathon-like mind-body exercise? I accounted it to meditation, strength, a philosophical devotion toward pushing her own limits, though not necessarily being without limits. I thought it was just so magical. Soon after, I had a conversation with an artist (though not a dancer) about the exhibit. This woman told me that she actually found the retrospective, and Abramovic’s performance in particular, quite uncomfortable, tense, and masochistic. She said that, while she was there Abramovic seemed uncomfortable in her chair. That makes a lot of sense. Sitting (or standing in uncomfortable positions) in front of an audience for hours at a time can test the limits of one’s physical and mental strength. Perhaps we performance artists are masochistic by nature and that is why initially I thought the piece to be meditative.

Upon further thinking, I would actually agree that her work is far more violent, tortured, and uncomfortable than unbound and free. I think it is decidedly bound; the pieces often revolve around an absence of voice, clothing, and freedom (figuratively and literally), and largely surrounds confrontational energy between humans (specifically her and Ulay, her collaborator). There was one piece that featured a young woman perched, naked, on a bike seat, pinned as if being crucified. I would not categorize that as free. Another piece featured a naked man, breathing steadily beneath a human skeleton; another featured two people pointing at each other, their fingers just almost touching. They remain like this for an hour or so at a time. My feeling is that these pieces are intentionally horrid, pushing the very edge of self torture (though done in a very meticulous, calculated, cold way).

I will say that my original thoughts on the exhibit do associate a freedom for Marina’s work. I think that is because I identified the work as her magnum opus, sitting on a chair in a beautiful gown, demonstrating her skill effortlessly. Yet, that is a romanticism of the piece. It is actually very restrained. As was her walk along the Great Wall which took 7 (or so) years of planning. I associate her work (at first glance) as very victorious and positive. But I think there’s a sub textual layer that is far more extreme. Her body of work tends to question human limits but, in my opinion, is intentionally trapped within.

But perhaps Gaga is talking about Abramovic’s creative process and not of the content. Even then I would not describe someone whose work has been consistent, progressive, and politically implicit as free and limitless. Limitless, I think, is such a limited word. What does it even mean? It means without limits, obviously, but even more specifically I think it means without restraint. However, I do think there is a method behind Abramovic’s work. It must be thought out; it in no way reflects surrealism to me.


“I am nothing, I have no sense of art”- Lady Gaga on herself. Is this some warped manifestation of self-idolatry?

Midway through this diatribe, I realized that Abramovic is the one that posed this question for Gaga: Who creates limits?

I then began to wonder if this is all a joke, an act. Was this video constructed by Lady Gaga to both make fun of herself, Madonna, and Abramovic? it certainly seemed rehearsed or premeditated. Is she trying to personify the aggrandized performer to prove a point?
 Is this the very definition of the intentional fallacy?

I am not sure the answers to any of these questions. She is currently one of the most powerful females in the world.  My instinct is that this will all pass soon. I would much rather listen to the musings of Marina herself because I think she is very powerful. So powerful that all she has to do is sit on a chair and millions of people from all corners of the world will watch.

                                                                          Abramovic with Ulay

Here is the link to the infamous video in question:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVY4Whayw0s

blog in transition

Monday was the 31^st of May. All along Metropolitan and Graham avenues were parked U-Hauls waiting patiently as silent hipsters moved out of their apartments. Teddy bears and bags of shoes; the 31^st is notoriously moving day. Before this year, I never moved. I grew up in my childhood home where I was sheltered from that day when you move your belongings from one place to another. When I moved into my Brooklyn apartment, it was an adventure. It was not a solid move. I brought a small bag or two in my hands as well as a carry-case with whatever I could stuff into it. Much like one of those children who carry a bag over her shoulder as she runs away from home, I headed for the bus stop. As I climbed aboard the express bus from Staten Island to Manhattan, the bus driver thought he was clever when he joked, “What are you running away?” I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Yes, actually I am.” 

I ran from Staten Island to Brooklyn in the summer of 2009. I left a note on the counter for my sleeping father, the day after his birthday. I rode into Brooklyn in the blistering late July heat, with my mother’s blessing and love, to begin a new phase of my life. This phase would be one of exploration and growth. Josh and I scrubbed the floors and transformed the place into a white sanctuary, one with French windows. As the sun set on the summer, it was hard to envision the day when I would not live here anymore.

It has always been hard for me to transition from one thing to the next. I fought hard each time my parent’s got it into their heads that we should move into a new house (or worse, a new state—my father wanted to move us to Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Jersey, and Maine throughout the course of my childhood). When the time finally came for me to leave that home which my father both built and destroyed, the song She’s Leaving Home could have been the underlying soundtrack to that scene.

When I saw these girls and guys, sipping beer and loading the truck on a rather lazy, I couldn’t help but wonder what they were feeling. Moving is an emotional transition; leaving behind the energy of a year’s time in that place. Though you of course, carry that energy with you in your muscle memory, a part of it remains in that place. 

I think about this more as August looms in the near future. Moving is very ritualistic. It is when I will have to face the memories that were created here, the vibes that filled this space, the love that brought us into this apartment---

I suppose it can also be triumphant to move from one home to the next. After all, moving can be the reaction to getting a new job, a new promotion, an acceleration into the future.  You can move into a bigger space, a more convenient location, a better rent deal… it can certainly be a very positive thing.

I suppose my question at this time is why I react so negatively to this sort of change. It could definitely stem from my deep rooted fear of my mortality (or one’s mortality), of getting older, of losing touch. Recently many people have told me I am blossoming before their eyes. I don’t really know how to respond to such comments, as  I don’t always feel I am blossoming. But somewhere inside is a flower, a daisy or a sunflower, inching toward the sun. 

 

When we talk we say,

Where are we going, baby?

To the top, baby.

And where’s that, sweet baby?

The top of the poppermost.

And then we smile and make merry.

That energy never dissipates. And I will love you for as long as that energy prevails.