Celine Dion, 2019: A review

Celine Dion in 2019 -- no this is not a joke! Coming a day after Cirque du Soleil (on the 30th), I got the feeling my parents really really wanted to relive their time in French Canada. Dion and Cirque du Soleil both hail from Montreal, Quebec -- where my parents lived, and where my older sister was born. Admittedly, I was skeptical about this venture, simply thinking that "well this is what my mom wants to see." So when we paid nearly a thousand dollars for the four of us, this terrified me a bit. Fortunately, an online friend was there to reassure me that Dion is a technically proficient singer.

The venue itself, the Colosseum, was expansive and beautiful, coated in lavish red. Seeing this sight eased me into the thrill of what we would see. At some point, I was made to put away my phone, and focus my energy on the curtains in front of us. It was not just me -- the thrill was played up rather deliberately. Dion's musical accompaniment, who filled  the entire stage, were lined up neatly, with drummers flanking the other performers; three backup singers; and a grand piano (and player obviously). A serene sweep of strings, and then Celine Dion herself appeared, illuminated by a stage light. There the clapping, and the performance proper, began.


Though Dion is arguably better known in Canada and in France, I had been exposed to many of her famous singles as a child. Especially "My Heart Will Go On", the famous Titanic theme song, which I had sung many times in my youth. (It's on record.) As an adult contemporary type of singer, her music clearly strikes a chord with people of a particular group (middle aged women). It is very sultry, focused on themes around love and romance. As a listener, it is not my type of music nowadays, and did not expect to find a draw in the performance. Instead, I held out hope for Dion the performer.


Finally, the sense of why this performance is so highly praised became clear. Immensely refined yet strongly purposeful movements filled every second of her time on the stage; paired with her ability to cleanly create emphasis in singing, Dion was able to make the most of every word. Albeit rather corny, this performance elevated songs I may not love on their own into that which I cannot help but respect a lot. Her incredible vocal control was on full display here.

To call Dion simply a singer would be disrespectful. Between songs, she shared a story of co-starring in a film with Ryan Reynolds. Clearly, his wit rubbed off on her! She talked about receiving a PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL letter from Reynolds, and assuming he was asking her to act with him once more. After recounting moments of woeful fretting, working on shoulder motions and facial gestures, Dion revealed that she had not yet read the letter! (It was a shock to my parents, but not to me.) Instead of asking her to act.....Reynolds asked her to perform a song for Deadpool 2! This piece, "Ashes", followed after. For sure, the pairing of Deadpool visuals with Dion is deeply ironic. Even more so that a concert spoiled me on the film! I recall "Ashes" as the most powerful song from that evening -- so perhaps it is time to watch it!

Her stage presence was equally impressive during moments when she was simply speaking to the audience. Another reason this performance seems so praised is how warmly she connects with the audience. Mind you, this is a gigantic audience! This all made her efforts at audience participation deeply admirable. She asked us to sing the line "Because you loved me" with her to close out one of her pieces. In another place, she had the professional singing accompaniment model part of the chorus, and had the audience practice and then apply this to the song itself. The audience participation, in this form, did die down (which struck me as a missed opportunity) but it was deeply effective in encouraging everyone to take part in the concert. Considering how expensive the tickets were, I certainly would not expect less! Dion also told us jokes and comments between songs.


Though more restrained, obviously, her accompaniment played a strong role as well, especially the singers. This came across in its best form in the duet for Beauty and the Beast's theme song. There was an arrangement of drummers on both sides, with the brass, guitar, and piano instruments towards the outskirts. This concentrated the louder instruments on the sides, with the softer instruments like the strings and Dion's singing towards the middle, creating an excellent mixing effect. The accompaniment arrangement was a genius part of the performance, bringing the songs fully to life.


As "Ashes" is perhaps the single best piece of the performance, I have to give great props to the song Dion sang in French. Ultimately, this is one of two things I held out hope for (you know the other). Though I am rusty in French, I could understand enough to tell that it very much fit her adult contemporary style. It was an excellent experience to hear a language other than English sung in a theater this grand. ....Unfortunately, I did not quite catch the name.

The second thing should be pretty clear to anyone alive during the late 1990s -- Dion's world famous Titanic theme song. She kept us guessing until the end. The lights turned off, and the silence became unnatural, creating a tension. And then the sound of waves appeared, and an ocean enveloped the back image. Of course, the audience was incredibly excited by this (including myself secretly), and it served as an excellent closer to the performance. Whatever energy Dion had lost during the concert was clearly restored here. Alas, she had one more trick involved, and she closed with a different but still fairly popular song.

Celine Dion was a deeply gracious host -- beyond making efforts to pull the audience along, outside of the act of singing, she extended much gratitude towards the performers accompanying her. She even thanked the stage hands, and everyone who helps a concert run smoothly, even if you cannot see them.


There are some aspects of the show that could be improved, from my perspective. For instance, the audience participation event could have been started earlier and taken a greater part of the show. It seemed clear that, though well done, Dion did the participation as an experiment. Given the simple nature of her lyrics, there were many opportunities to continue this participation experiment.


At the same time, her songs often retained their original aesthetic, including some techniques (like gated drums!) that come across as dated. Some aspects of the show did feel straight from the late 1990s! Though the Titanic theme song is an excellent candidate for being unchanged, some other pieces would be improved with rearrangement.


While on the subject of rearrangement, I felt that Dion and her accompaniment could have employed more variety of instrument combinations. In all fairness, the intermission featured jazz pieces, and then switched into an intimate quartet, leading into a quieter song by Dion herself. Other performers got opportunities to solo, like the duet partner in Beauty and the Beast or a violin player. Or the incredible woodwind performance in the Titanic theme song! But there could have been many more interesting combinations. For example, with Dion's excellently projected yet nuanced vocals, a piano-based song would have delivered well as a transition into a more emotive piece. I am even curious what a Dion song backed primarily by flutes would sound like! Though the performers did very well, I forsee even more of a role for them.


I emerged from this concert feeling thoroughly energized, having witnessed a great performance. This has to be one of the best concerts I've attended -- though I do not attend many -- and this is following a wave of skepticism. Could this show be worth it, I worried. It is worth it, and was a powerful sendoff for Dion, as she moves on from performing in Las Vegas.

All You Need is (Cirque du Soleil's) LOVE (30 May 2019)

            Las Vegas, the Sin City of the United States! Far from my usual scene – VERY far metaphorically— I was here for a purpose. By here, I mean the Mirage Hotel and casino, all for a showing of Cirque du Soleil’s LOVE. (They have a theater too.) Unfortunately, the building put me into a miserable mood – though large, the entire lobby was set aside for a casino and a fake forest, without any seats anywhere save for slot machines. Ironic that the place that only existed, to me, for Cirque du Soleil was so frustratingly hollow. For half an hour, I took a sitting nap, wiling away the boring amount of time before 7:00 PM.

            Not yet have I discussed LOVE itself! Though the Mirage Hotel is entirely lackluster, the promise of this attraction weighed on my mind. For the past 12 years, this performance, which rearranges Beatles music into sonically-centered acting on a stage, has been happening at this hotel. To put it simply, there is much pressure riding on this evening for me. It is the highlight of my Las Vegas trip – it *has* to be.

            As unimpressive as the Mirage Hotel is, its circular theater features an impressive sense of scale, aided by the two large screens running along the walls. Imbued by a blue light, this stage was, without a single performer yet standing on it, exuding a cool aura. Then the yellow stage lights came on, and the announcer gave his spiel. No flash photography, no videos, no sound recording. Usual stuff for this sort of thing.

            A 90 minute performance cannot be neatly summarized, especially one as vibrant as this, but I shall make a valiant effort. From what I understood, LOVE draws a thread between the Beatles growing up in the post-WWII era, seeing rising authoritarianism in the United Kingdom, and demonstrating a radical commitment to love in the face of repression. The Beatles, as suggested by the stage show, used their influence to help curb state-sanctioned violence, represented by some rather corny cops with batons. Even if you felt like the Beatles had little depth left, you will likely find yourself surprised by this energetic show. “We all want to change the world”, in the words of one of their songs. “All you need is love”, in the words of another of their songs. Together these two lyrics best define what Cirque du Soleil’s LOVE is all about.

 

My preferred strategy here is to talk about what was done well, and then pivot towards how the work could be made even more powerful.

 

First of all, the variety was excellent and the greatest draw of the entire performance; every song, and there were many, felt like they adopted a unique identity, especially the songs describing creative visual imagery. Set and costume design strongly supported this pursuit, making every scene stand out.

            Filled with creative expression, there was rarely a moment where the show felt uninspired. Often this occurred through a combination of acrobatics in the air while other performers danced and moved across the stage. The motions themselves captured many aspects of human expression, especially on love.    Additionally, the stage was always filled, with lighting, with performers, with smoke, with the sets. This included transitions, where we would see performers rush onto or off the stage, with a grand gesture, and where the props were changed. Even these transitions were smoothly refined, ensuring that we always had something to keep our eyes on.

 

The visual experimentation must be thoroughly and highly praised. A beautiful use of lighting permeated every scene, and provided as much energy as the music or the performances. Often curtains and screens were used to both provide additional sources of sensory stimulation, but also to divert light and create excellent effects. In this regard, the highlight of the show came when a periwinkle blue tarp was flown over the audience; though little participation was required, it provided an admirably transient view of the staging, drawing our attention to how the lighting changed throughout this scene. Though perhaps a tad claustrophobic, the tarp was one such highlight of the show that felt like it came from extensive experimentation. Through these many experiments, the performance came off as nakedly memorable and powerful, even as some parts perhaps seem rough.

 

Though each scene is quite strong, some were especially strong, especially when paired with surreal visual imagery. For example, we saw a school of jellyfish floating overhead during the “Octopus’s Garden” performance, which stuck out in my mind. The beautiful red glow during “Strawberry Fields”, with the sky filled with bubbles, also managed to thoroughly capture myself as a viewer. (On the flip side, a song like “Come Together”, which lacks this aesthetic cohesion, is not nearly as memorable.) The bubble effect was called back when a series of rose petals were dropped overhead during the closing act of the performance, also providing a memorable scene. However, it would be entirely remiss to ignore “Revolution”, which offers a thematic centerpiece of the performance. The aforementioned silly cops appear as the villains of the scene, as people run from cops, while others resist them. This offers a perspective on the Beatles that is not quite novel, but brought me to a new light of their music. I’d forgotten how inspirational their work appears in original context.

 

The roughly three-song conclusion consisted of “Hey Jude”, “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Heart Clubs Band”, and “All You Need is Love” – and it worked quite well! “Hey Jude” worked to reassure the audience and the Beatles themselves of how adversity can be overcome. “Sgt Pepper’s” gave us the last rush of energy, and let us know the show was concluding. However, “All You Need is Love” provided the curtain call

            Given that the performance has been going on for 12 years, LOVE clearly can adapt to fit changing tastes of audiences. In light of that, there are clear areas that could be improved to make LOVE even stronger. Though the deep dive of the Beatles’ music is awe-inspiring, there is a sense that too many songs are made into dance numbers, making LOVE feel incredibly dense, with little rest. On a practical level, this meant that my ears often did not have a chance to recover between songs. There are exceptions of course – the use of “While my Guitar Gently Weeps” offered a very clean, yet soothing, transition.

 

The overabundance of songs also hurt the ability for the narrative to connect as much as possible. While my ears did hurt, I also observed that some performances were difficult to understand as a cohesive narrative. If the number of songs was reduced, then spoken word, or dialogue, could be used more extensively to guide the viewer through the story. In the earlier parts of LOVE, where the tone is still being set, this would have solidified the goals of the work. That is not to say spoken word should usurp the circus elements – that would defeat the purpose! – but its usage could help the viewer keep track. Perhaps some type of brief recap every ‘third’ of the show would help here. Ultimately, the conclusion of LOVE works beautifully, and these improvements would raise the finale even more.

            There are also some rather experimental techniques used – we see avant-garde mixing of circus and 2D animation for example – that could also be strung together to create an implied narrative. For example, if certain kinds of stage lighting were consistently used throughout the performance, we could associate that lighting with a theme. These techniques are consistently used to keep the performance lively – and they surely succeeded – but could be used to bolster the narrative as well.

 

All in all, Cirque du Soleil’s LOVE offers a fascinating introspection on the Beatles, even with their legendary status. Not being a Beatles fan, I did not connect with the music very directly, and largely relied on the excellent performances, and various visual techniques, to attach great meaning to the show. That, to me, demonstrates how largely effective LOVE is. LOVE could be made even stronger by using speaking and visual techniques to connect the narrative segments together more cleanly. However, the fact that nearly every scene worked very well held up the show. In the end, this *is* my highlight of this Las Vegas Trip, and this position is well-deserved.

Day 12 and Endings: 2018, and We Never Study/We Never Learn

12 days of anime is actually quite tough, whether if you’re ‘just’ writing or creating a video, to do consistently and well. In large part because of my aggressively ambitious program. But this act requires a touch more energy than I have had lately. As a direct result, I omitted some posts and others were not to satisfaction.

These included the following posts:
1) Darling in the Franxx and disability inclusivity (omitted due to scope of article, likely requiring a rewatch)
2) Feminism of moe (omitted because of not sure where to take it)
3) Liz and Gait post (needs editing after a rewatch)
4) Mitsuboshi Colors and Greenery post (needs fleshing out)
5) Zombieland Saga post (needs fleshing out after I finish ZLS)
6) Revue and Utena post (needs editing after I finish Revue/Utena)
7) 3D Kanojo Thematic post (will happen after I see S2, and probably after I read the manga)

As you can see, there are many loose ends, many of which exist precisely because of time and energy. For many, if not all of these posts, I tried to explore different methods of inquiry. Like discussing how vegetation plays a large role in urban life (Mitsuboshi). Or how Liz and the Blue Bird reflects and uses scientific concepts like gait to explore human relationships. Or how disability can be reflected in the symbology of the zombie. Additionally, this gave me the opportunity to explore how seemingly unrelated works like Fate/Kaleid and Roma could share themes. This approach also finally compelled me to write about race and anime, which has even more nuance than I first realized!  In a way, this reminded me that I, even after years of blogwriting, am still grappling with the process of learning.

And maybe another Zeldaru would have started just writing about the experience of 2018, and what I will explore in the new year.

But I still find myself deeply, immensely, profoundly frustrated by the seasonal anime discourse. We seem to never study our methods of discussion, and as a result never learn how to do discussion better. That’s not to argue for discussion moderation or something like that – but for each of us to grow as people who engage this discourse. There is no one who can’t grow in this regard.

Of course, this is nothing new, but it does seem to have hit a critical mass. As we move past the low bar of “Should we discuss politics and anime” (yes a million times yes), we near that tipping point where the discussion becomes mainstream enough for clear ‘conventions’ to form. Much of this discourse is on deeply valuable subjects. Yet it often comes to narrow or misleading conclusions about broad subjects. And much of the time, it focuses on proving “who” is really a socially just being with the right opinions, as if this is just some competition to win. But an overemphasis on hot takes in this way, besides being tiring, prevents us from having more meaningful dialogues. Hopefully, I do not need to point out broader issues with this discourse approach (cough Spanish Inquisition cough).

 But this is all completely draining and often makes watching anime seasonally far less fun. And often recent shows will be much more harshly examined than less recent shows. It can feel like shows only need to be socially conscious if they come out in year of our lord 2018!

We can have enriching discussions that focus on critical topics but are also founded in mutual respect and exploration, rather than simply having a correctly blazing take.

A particular instance of discourse has been on my mind even though it’s 6 months old. Ancient by Anitwitter discourse terms! But it….reflects some deeply concerning concepts around disability (an underrepresented area in my view). Amanchu Advance, based on the manga by ‘heterosexy’ (here meaning the overemphasis of heterosexuality as a profoundly favored way of living, beyond a passive degree) writer Amano, allegedly tripped alarms with episode 11 – here Teko (MC1, a girl) apparently gives an 11 year old boy (positioned as a character both MCs know) permission to date Peko (MC2, a girl). This could be read as stating that an 11 year old boy is a more fruitful romantic partner for a girl than a girl, which would be homophobic! It basically insists that the heterosexual dynamic is crucial to the world. But…I want to refute this temptation to read this as a heterosexy encounter, even if Amano is guilty of writing such scenes.

In my view, this controversy is overblown: you must cynically overapply heterosexuality to reach this conclusion (based on the portrayal in the anime). But that gets into deeply uncomfortable territory, as it maladroitly sidesteps how different identities intersect. As portrayed in the anime, Teko struggles with strong social anxiety (highlighted by an AniFem article on the subject) and to ignore that for the sake of convenience is ableist. From this view, Teko is struggling to find the right words to express her exact feelings (which very likely include considering both parties’ feelings). Thus, Teko’s offer of support to me does not read as “date my friend” but rather “you are my friend, and I support your feelings and want you to express your feelings”. Because of her own struggles with sharing feelings, Teko is likely wanting to see others succeed in this approach.

I will not say Amano is above criticism for heterosexy portrayals. But to criticize her for this scene (as shown in the anime) is nonsensical to me. There are far more poignant examples of this from her work, like the writing of the Peter arc, which appears to position heterosexuality as powerful through supernatural imagery, and her similar works in Aria (from what I hear). But I won’t stand for Teko, who expresses herself earnestly while living with social anxiety, being read as a mouthpiece for that heterosexuality.

The refutation of this particular situation’s heterosexiness comes in full force from the anime’s conclusion (the episode following episode 11), where Teko and Peko intimately share what they have learned from each other in diving and in life. They do this exchange by sharing letters and describing their feelings orally. Such an exchange, which is at least intimate if not very probably romantic, locally refutes the imposition of heterosexiness. Of course, the Peter Arc struggles with heterosexy framing, and maybe Amano destroys this context later. But this discourse always came across as focused on the anime, and so I want to stay here.

Of course this implies that the anime has a different focus and frame than the manga. I fully intend to say that! To this end, I have another point: director Kiyoko Sayama and series composer (main series writer) Deko Akao, the female director-writer team guiding Amanchu Advance, definitively play a role in changing this framing to encourage emotional honesty and reducing heterosexy elements. In particular, the first episode, an anime original venture, places the relationship between Teko and Peko into square focus, establishing their intimacy. A romantic vibe is probably not intentional. But the use of framing, which is where female creatives tend to differ from male creatives, is able to pull the audience closer into the Teko-Peko relationship. Even for the Peter Arc, which feels distressing, the use of direction to emphasize the female characters’ courage and motivation is able to provide a more compelling vision over what the manga seems to broadly suggest. (I will admit this is conjecture but I do get the feeling the anime handles this arc differently than the manga would.) Therefore, to me calling the anime homophobic strikes me as not only ableist but also sexist by ignoring the work of the Sayama-Akao team in changing the framing. We cannot talk about anime as if only the manga’s intentions simply seep through and dominate anything that comes after. Amano doesn’t have such an awe-inspiring power over Amanchu Advance that dominates every angle, even if she is the original creator.

We could be having so much more enriching, engaging, and even dare I say it fun discussions if we could look beyond simple divisions, especially around sexuality and gender. I well understand that this approach has evolved because of a culture that stigmatizes these discussions. But at this point, where we are building a critical mass, it is harmful to focus on simple division along social identity lines. We should see ourselves as intersections of identities existing in space and time, as beings with randomness and entropy, not as a tightly molded model like Crunchyroll et al would like us to be!

I sincerely hope that 2019 can bring a more sincere and meaningful dialogue back to the Anitwitter community.

Day 11: You Get To (Gene) Editing: Bioethics of creating life and episode 18 of Nadesico [DRAFT]

Disclaimer: Spoilers. Sorry Jet.

For those who do not know, Martian Successor Nadesico is an often light-hearted, yet occasionally more serious, work that explores science fiction from an incredibly 90s perspective. It invokes the classic (70s) super robo shows like Getter Robo aesthetically and narratively, looping in a super robo parody named Gekiganger III. This series feels like a time capsule. You would expect that to make its science fiction feel dated. And sometimes it does feel like it also borrows straight from 70s series like Space Battleship Yamato or from Mobile Suit Gundam! But, especially when the series focuses hard, there are moments when Nadesico can offer beautifully clairvoyant visions about the way science will be. In a way that matches with how science is now.

With this intro out of the way, we can share spoilers freely! Episode 18 is one such episode that feels especially germane, as it covers Ruri’s backstory. As is revealed, Ruri is born from in-vitro fertilization (IVF) with the combination of genetic engineering. Both IVF and genetic engineering are existing technologies (and are available if you’re IVF), though not necessarily widespread. Therefore, the guess that the two technologies would be combined is not entirely surprising.

Questions around gene editing are flying past and furiously right now as He Jiankui, as of late last month, claims he made the first CRISPR-edited babies. This is horrifying for a variety of reasons: 1) his gene editing was not done to address an unmet medical need 2) there was no informed consent and 3) he did his actions in secrecy and received pushback as a result.
https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2018/11/china-crispr-babies/576784/
https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2018/12/15-worrying-things-about-crispr-babies-scandal/577234/

Though certainly the use of CRISPR-Cas9 is somewhat different from Ruri’s case, it can be assessed in much a similar way. Currently, the dominant method of gene editing comes from CRISPR and if a modern “Ruri” existed it would probably involve that work.

Nadesico, from being a fictional work, is able to create constrains that provide a rich philosophical construction. We know, for example, what happened to Ruri after the birth, unlike the work of He Jiankui right now. Additionally, Ruri being a main character creates a concrete layer to the story – this episode traces her backstory, after we have learned of her as THE most competent Nadesico crew member. It is quite incredible that a 1996 show could offer insight to a 2018 problem!

In engineering Ruri, the lab sought to create a soldier, in this case on the Nadesico itself. This is a deeply questionable element that makes sense in context of the show but is not nearly as ‘good’ for the real world. It is of very little surprise the in-show lab (Hunaro Institute) was shut down and the experiments were banned – we could hope that this happens to He for his secretive and unprofessional work! 

In a sense, Nadesico deeply exaggerates this genetic engineering story, allowing us to see the ridiculousness. Based on Ruri’s fears of never knowing her roots, the crew goes to Peaceland to investigate. But Ruri learns that the lab where her parents genetic material is stored was destroyed in a terrorist attack. And the parents she meets in Peaceland are not her biological parents and are in fact holograms. This is both pleasing to her and depressing as it is far beyond what she expected. She goes to eat pizza in sadness, which she calls awful, and starts a fight with the owner (letting Akito, the male MC, take care of the situation).  This is hilarious, but beyond that powerful: an entire character arc happens within a matter of a few minutes and concludes that parenthood is important but that it is messy and far beyond biological. The people who comprise family could be biological parents, adopted parents, or could be greater. In this show, one can see the Nadesico crew as (an admittedly messed up and unruly) family; this is why Ruri, even after learning her past, returns to the Nadesico. Spoilers, but in fact Ruri is in the remaining 8 episodes!

But there’s more to this character arc: Ruri finds the Hunaro Institute, the lab from earlier, and this is where she actually finds the answers to her concerns. She finds the beautiful river and forest she had only seen in her dreams so are. This is the place she seeks. The lab is in such a ruinous ,empty state that there is only one scientist, an old man, left in the place. (Again, one can imagine a similar symbol for He’s lab.) 

According to his judgment alone, he saved the IVF-fertilized (and engineered) eggs, thought destroyed in the terrorist attack, as a test subject. But in this position he has role over human life and cannot take such an irresponsible attitude. The consequences can easily include death or indoctrination leading to a far worsened quality of life. However, there is yet another wrinkle in this fabric: he brings the IVF children into the world, including Ruri, and offers them clean air and water and a structured and protected life. And they get employment from this!

This offers a series of benefits not even given in the actual 2018 situation and it gives us insight into what has to be done to in fact offset the troublesome morality of doing gene engineering without consent in any appreciable way. We also see the vindication of Ruri slapping the professor sand saying nobody asked this of him. But Ruri values being alive and that should be considered. In any case of genetic engineering, one has to weigh the intrinsic value of life, and that is really hard to consider. Giving a comfortable setting to grow up in is one essential part of this process. But there’s also facts involved with a person carrying those engineered elements throughout their life. To justify genetic engineering, this type of analysis must be rigorously done!  

With Ruri returning to the Nadesico, we see an emotionally honest resolution to her confusion around her feelings on being engineered. The show concretely places Ruri in control over her life with the knowledge of being an engineered being. Nadesico reflects a much more nuanced understanding of the situation, to me, than He’s research ultimately does. Ultimately, a human being, whether engineered or not, will want to find satisfaction and meaning of some form in life and we should always hold this search as vital.