Jeremy was not one to receive letters, so when a drab brown envelope was delivered to the house, it came as quite a shock. Delicately slitting through the top, he emptied its contents onto his armchair, revealing a glossy sheet of paper with a backdrop of daintily printed clouds. As he instantly recognized the flowing writing covering most of the page, Jeremy let out a heavy sigh.
Perplexed but more than a little curious, Jeremy fell slowly into his armchair, nearly crushing the letter before he placed it onto his lap. As he turned the folded paper over and over in his hands, a wary expression descended over his face. Finally gathering the courage, he unfolded the paper, flattened it with a brisk sweep of his hand, and began to read. It read:
Dear Jeremy,
I am sure that you thought this day would never come, but I have sent this letter to inform you that it has. I have been released from St. Jones. I understand that you may not view this decision in the good favor that I have, but I can assure you that everything has been taken care of, and I have received the attention I needed. I realize this may be difficult for you, it is not an easy situation for myself either, but I would like to meet with you to discuss things. Hopefully you will be able to see in me what I know inside myself, which is that I am ready and very willing to restart our life together. Please contact me; my cell phone number has not changed.
With love,
Andrea
Jeremy could not help but expel a long sigh as he let the letter fall to the carpet. Allowing his head to sink into his hands, he stayed in place for a long while as he worked to control the quivers reverberating through his body.
When he finally rose from his chair and composed himself, he walked up the stairs into the small storage area by the master bedroom. Impatiently skimming through the collection of antiques and labeled boxes, he finally found the one he was searching for. Cracking open the sealed top, he looked inside and, relieved, pulled out an old mahogany picture frame. He quickly wiped the dust from the faded frame and abjectly stared at the picture. “Jeremy and Andrea, 1989”, it read. Exhaling slowly, Jeremy did something that betrayed his normal personality. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he called her.
The call was brief, and in short time Jeremy was showering, changing his clothes, and shaving his face. As he made coffee, doubts began to repopulate his mind. Taking in deep breaths, he focused on steadying his shaking hands and taking out two brown mugs from the cupboard. Setting them on the table, he turned quickly to grab the coffee, and placed it on the table as well. It was at this moment that the doorbell rang. Almost wincing, Jeremy straightened up, and proceeded towards the doorway.
He opened the door to a middle-aged woman with brown hair, blue eyes, and of taller than average height. She was carrying only a small yellow bag, as well as an air of brazen but welcoming confidence.
Jeremy paused and stared at her for a long while. Snapping out of his trance, Jeremy apologized abashedly, realizing he had not yet allowed her into the house. He stepped aside and she walked into the foyer. Staring up at him, she paused, and then wrapped her arms around him. Taken aback, Jeremy slowly reciprocated. It was not until she motioned away that he realized he had been holding her for a very long time.
So they sat. And they talked. And Jeremy realized he had missed this woman. She explained calmly that her mother was holding most of her belongings, and that, if he consented of course, she could return them to their home in due time.
“It’s nice to see you, really,” she said with the heartwarming touch he had missed.
“You too,” he admitted, “I was afraid you would be like…before. And you know I couldn’t do that, it was too painful. But that’s irrelevant now, the point is you’re back.”
She gestured to the yellow bag, saying, “I bought something for you on the way here, as a way to say I’m sorry about before, and to hopefully instill some faith in me.”
Jeremy reacted playfully, and with excitement he opened the bag. It contained a 16-hole chromatic harmonica, beautifully polished and gleaming.
Although his eyes said everything, he explained, “You didn’t have to Andrea. I know you didn’t mean to break the other. But thank you.”
Looking pleased, she got up to leave, but Jeremy swept her back into a quick hug. They agreed to meet the following weekend, which would allow both of them adequate time to reflect on the recent events, and ensure that they were both ready for what was to come ahead.
Pacing the hallway, Jeremy felt strangely fulfilled. Of all the possible outcomes the evening could’ve turned to, this was the most satisfying he could have imagined. He went upstairs and filed away the harmonica. It was little consolation to know he had been returned only one of the things Andrea had taken away from him during her episodes, but it was all he needed. Returning downstairs, he went to place a record on the record player, and then resumed his position in his armchair as the voice of Van Morrison came lofting through the room singing Someone Like You, their wedding song.
The following weekend, the two met at a café close to Jeremy’s house and once again shared a coffee. Their conversation was light, but the mood hinted at something deeper being communicated. At the end Jeremy knew Andrea was waiting for a definitive answer, so he gave her one.
It was a bright early Sunday morning when Andrea arrived with her mother’s car containing all of her belongings. It took a decent amount of time to carry all of the necessities into the house and distribute them to the best of their memory, but the task was made enjoyable by their communal interest in the past year of each other’s lives. Jeremy felt unusually chatty during this time, until he realized this was his actual personality, and not the introverted man he had become in Andrea’s absence. Putting the last of her clothes into the closet, Jeremy exclaimed in accomplishment,
“I’m glad that’s done, we make a good team don’t you think?”
She nodded vigorously in approval, saying, “I was thinking we could see a movie tonight. You know, try and redevelop our old romance?”
“Of course. It sounds like a great first evening.”
“And I’ve also booked us some art classes! I knew you wouldn’t like it, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes, but digressed. They walked downstairs, and Andrea put some coffee on as she stared out the back window.
“We really should repaint the porch when we get a chance.”
“I know. It’s something that’s seemed to escape my attention recently. But don’t worry, we’ll get to it this summer,” Jeremy finished as he joined her.
Once the coffee was ready, Jeremy poured each of them one mug full, and they proceeded to sit outside on the deck patio chairs, observing the neatly trimmed lawn in the cool autumn air. Andrea initiated the conversation, bringing up a friend she had met at her hospital. Jeremy smiled, engaged by her humorous storytelling. When it was his turn, he told her that not much had changed in the last year, aside from her absence.
“Well that’s good news to hear. Oh and I almost forgot, we’re going to see the ballet in two weeks, there’s a performance down at Charlestown.”
Surprised, he asked, “When did you plan all this?”
“Last night, I thought it would be nice to get a move on with our lives, that’s all.”
Jeremy nodded. This was what starting over was all about. And he was ready to begin.
By: Spencer Nestico Semianiw
At times I’ve fantasized about the day when I could lie down, put a new vinyl record on that I’ve never heard before and listen to something that I knew would be mind-blowing. I’ve entertained the idea quite frequently with upcoming albums by Arcade Fire and Kanye West. I wish I could’ve done it with Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange. I never expected it would meet the standard. But it surpassed it.
Channel Orange will undoubtedly be not only one of the seminal albums of a generation but will also be considered one of music’s most remarkable achievements. It pleasantly evokes the likes of Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye, yet Ocean’s unique talent for effortlessly shifting between his nasal and falsetto delivery immediately distinguishes him from all his predecessors. Ocean carves himself a place in music history with a knife made out of his provocative subtlety.
Singing of a Cleopatra turned prostitute and a Forrest Gump turned football player, this album presents so much lyrical variety partnered with musical innovation that it’s impossible not to be intrigued. The horns on “Sweet Life,” the catchy synth on “Lost,” the club dance vibe from Pyramids - all of these variations constantly draw us in, providing the opportunity to delve deeper into an album that continues to surprise.
My personal favorites are “Bad Religion” and “Pyramids”. On “Bad Religion,” Ocean sings more passionately than I’ve heard from an R&B artist for a long time, with an unconventional opening melody that is fascinating and mournful. “Pyramids,” the album’s magnum opus, begins with an upbeat and synth-heavy account of Cleopatra’s abduction and ends with a resonating solo by John Mayer. The track is a nine-minute work of art that moves from a song into a story that Ocean tells with the passion it deserves.
In the music industry and critical community, it is an unfortunate reality that the status of great albums and artists is slowly forgotten. It happened with the Velvet Underground and to Led Zeppelin. Channel Orange has received the attention it deserves, but I urge for it to not dissipate just yet. The pessimists who lament that music’s heyday was 50 years ago should hear to this album because it disproves everything they believe. Have a listen.
By: Spencer Semianiw
Searching for Sugar Man introduced me to Westdale’s pleasant 1920s style theatre, acquainted me with recent South African history and culture, and it familiarized me with an artist who has been tragically overlooked by history’s selective lens - until now.
Searching for Sugar Man finds a way to very creatively tell a simple story.
It forms an emotional connection with an audience that will usually have very little previous knowledge about the story, let alone any emotional investment.
The documentary explores the accounts of different individuals from both the States and South Africa as they undertake the challenge of discovering the whereabouts and history of Rodriguez, an American singer-songwriter from the early ‘70s whose music had a much postponed influence in South Africa during the Apartheid movement. The movie expertly weaves Rodriguez’s politically charged songs into the historical period the film outlines.
The film displays Rodriguez’s truly humble work ethic. Despite his two record releases, Rodriguez continued working at the local construction company, always proving that to him, the impoverished Detroit community comes first. At the end of the movie, live footage of Rodriguez performing in 1998 to thousands of ecstatic fans was a heart-warming display of the effect that this man’s music had in the country. Despite his recent success, he continues to avoid the limelight, always demonstrating his meek and likeable personality.
This movie was an extraordinarily expressive depiction of a story that needed to be told. Its soundtrack, historical footage and interviews with people in Rodriguez’s life were deeply engaging and emotionally resonating. Search no more: this film deserves a watch.
By: Spencer Semianiw
Searching for Sugar Man is about a man who was forgotten by an entire generation. Hell, it's about a man that was never even known by an entire generation, yet wrote some of the most influential songs of his time. In the sensational documentary by Malik Bendjelloul, the story of this man is told, a man who's dignified nature has allowed for history's selective lens to pass over him.
Sixto Rodriguez was born to Mexican immigrants in Detroit in 1942. Despite two critically praised albums released under Sussex Records in the early ‘70s, Rodriguez failed to achieve any sort of fan base in the nation, with label founder Clarence Avant cynically guessing he sold about 6 records in total. Due to this lack of success, Rodriguez was dropped soon after the release of his second album Coming from Reality. The documentary goes on to tell one of the most brilliantly but unlikely stories I've ever heard, and one that equally succeeds in summoning the emotions of an audience that has no initial investment in the story at all.
After assuming that his opportunities as a music man had dissipated, Rodriguez humbly acted upon the virtues that his parents had instilled in him as a child and went back to the manual construction labor he had been doing for numerous years. But Rodriguez didn't complain about it - he didn't even realize there was something to complain about. Whether he made it as an artist or not he always knew he'd still find those long workdays the most fulfilling days of his life because he could thus support his three daughters.
However, unbeknownst to Rodriguez or any of his affiliates, a much different scenario was being played out in one of the most inconceivable of countries: South Africa. As the story goes, Cold Fact, Rodriguez's first record, arrived in South Africa soon after its release and immediately struck a chord with the disheartened and disenfranchised generation of the nation's Apartheid victims. Rodriguez's music gained a strong following, with eventual sales of his albums going to over 500,000. His music inspired a generation and became an influential work of art that spurred on the tour de force of triumphing over segregation in South Africa. It is, truthfully, one of the most heart-wrenching displays of historic footage I have ever seen put to film.
This documentary expertly transitions back and forth between events within America and events in South Africa. It shows emotionally charged interviews filled with analogies from a diverse assortment of people close to Rodriguez, and whose accounts show the effect on his music and principles. This movie knows exactly what it wants to show but has the integrity to not flaunt it in our faces.
Searching for Sugar Man doesn't just tell a story, it creates one. The great strength of this film is that it takes facts and anecdotes that would be meaningless apart and brings them together in a way that tells a story of true humility and perseverance. This film is about people, it's about their stories, and it's about their thirst for knowledge, for finding answers. It's not about Rodriguez so much as it's about what he inspired, what he did, and what he refrained from doing. This film displays the importance of giving credit where it is due, and even if Rodriguez doesn't mind being forgotten, it's important for the rest of us to know he'll be remembered as a hero.
By: Spencer Semianiw
