Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts

03 October 2012

Cal Newport on following your passion

Cal Newport recently came out with a new book So Good They Can't Ignore You. Part of his central thesis is that "following your passion" and similar cliches given at graduation speeches are terrible advice.

I've followed Cal Newport's blog for years and he's been preaching this for many months. I agree with his idea, though I find his message kind of simplistic and I think he could explain it better.

I think that he's mainly pushing back against the cliche of "following your passion." There are a few jobs where passion is very common. Many people who go into sports, art, music, acting were children who saw adults doing something and decided they wanted to do it to. But most jobs aren't tangible like that. A lot of people got to their successful, fulfilling career through some circuitous route. The main point is that typically there is no easy obvious route to the wonderful career.

I went to a government career panel (for PhD scientists) and one of the panelists said that he talked to some other guys and they all agreed that they came to their current job in a circuitous route. It was only in hindsight that they could see how each choice they made along the way brought them to where they are now. It was perfectly logical now, but there's no way they could have predicted it when they were just beginning their working life.

Everyone will have preferences for some kinds of work over others and that is not something that should be ignored. But it might not be a overwhelmingly "passionate" preference -- like falling in love. The problem with a statement like "follow your passion" is that it makes it sound like the ideal career choice will suddenly come to you in a fit of heavenly inspiration. Like how a naive teenager might think that the first person they fall in love with is the person they'll marry for life.

There is also the pressure of living in a highly competitive world and opportunity cost. Life is much easier if you picked the "right" path from the start, went to the right college and majored in the right subject, etc. Yes, that is true, but there should be more discussion of how mild "failure" and changing directions is normal in a career.

11 September 2012

On paying attention

I recently had a conversation with someone I had never met before -- and the remarkable thing was that she devoted her entire attention to me. I could feel her looking intently at me, with full eye contact. She let me talk for a long time without interruption. How rare and special is it to have someone focused on you and not distracted by other things?

30 May 2012

Thought of the day: The best intellectual training

At the risk of sounding self-serving and elitist, I think the best intellectual training is mathematics and physics. These subjects are the most challenging to learn due to their abstract nature and extremely difficult to pick up as an adult (maybe as difficult as learning a musical instrument or foreign language as an adult). There are many claims that mathematicians and theoretical physicists make their biggest discoveries before the age of 40. Mathematicians and physicists have a reputation for being "smart" and after a long period of reluctance and doubt, I have to agree that this reputation is well-deserved.

If you know math and physics, it's easy to pick up almost everything else. I'm not saying you'll achieve a deep understanding of literature, history, or business, but you'll be able to learn it pretty fast and be decent at it. My friend remarked that the coolest people are the scientists who are the top in their field and interested in everything. Unfortunately, these people are a minority. The rest are rather one-dimensional and dull company. (Her opinion, not mine.)

I think that the other difficult fields to pick up are visual art and music. They are also quite abstract. Artists are trained to "see" in a special way; they can translate what they see into an artistic representation (often translating 3D into 2D). By visual art, I'm talking about drawing and painting, not photography (which is kind of a technological cheat). Musicians innately understand rhythm and scales.

I've heard that philosophy is the best intellectual training if you restrict yourself to humanities fields. I'm not really sure about social science. Those are interesting subjects, but I think if you just want to be a great thinker, you're better off starting with math and physics.

So I guess if I had a child, I would have him/her learn art, music, math, and physics, plus a couple foreign languages.

29 May 2012

Thought of the day: Detail vs ideas

I find it easy to get overwhelmed by details, particularly in science where most research reveals around investigating one specific detail. There are so many facts and things to remember that I end up feeling hopeless and depressed.

So now I want to do something different. Instead start from the big idea and then go looking for the details that support and illuminate the idea. Reading scientific papers (which are usually not well-written) is like wading through a sea of details and hoping to re-construct the big idea that encompasses them. Very difficult and painful.

27 May 2012

Link of the day: "How to Live Unhappily Ever After"

A few weeks ago, I read this essay by Augusten Burroughs in the Wall Street Journal about how happiness is overrated.

In particular, I like this passage:
The truth about healing is that heal is a television word. Someone close to you dies? You will never heal. What will happen is, for the first few days, the people around you will touch your shoulder and this will startle you and remind you to breathe. You will feel as though you will soon be dead from natural causes; the weight of the grief will be physical and very nearly unbearable.

Eventually, you will shower and leave the house. Maybe in a year you will see a movie. And one day somebody will say something and it will cause you to laugh. And you will clamp your hand over your mouth because you laughed and that laugh will break your heart, it will feel like a betrayal. How can you laugh?

In time, to your friends, you will appear to have recovered from your loss. All that really happened, you'll think, is that the hole in the center of your life has narrowed just enough to be concealed by a laugh. And yet, you might feel a pressure for it to be true. You might feel that "enough" time has passed now, that the hole at the center of you should not be there at all.
I imagine that there are some depressed people out there who simply get better and better at lying, at covering up their darkness, for the sake of maintaining their social life and relationships. Even the closest, most understanding of friends will eventually tire of negativity.

Augusten Burroughs is the famed author of Running with Scissors -- which I have not read.

23 May 2012

Thought of the day: Direct Studies for scientists?

I have heard a lot of good things about the Directed Studies program at Yale. It's an elective program for freshmen undergraduates. For their first two semester, the students take three classes covering "literature, philosophy, and historical and political thought."

My impression is that it's a survey of the foundations of Western culture. It helps people understand where many Western ideas came from, for example, democracy -- an idea we take for granted. The professors encourage a lot of discussion and deep thinking. Directed Studies teaches young people how to think. In the Boston Globe, one of the Directed Studies professors argues why the program and those like it are important:
The first is that there is more than one good answer to the question of what living is for. A second is that the number of such answers is limited, making it possible to study them in an organized way. A third is that the answers are irreconcilably different, necessitating a choice among them. A fourth is that the best way to explore these answers is to study the great works of philosophy, literature, and art in which they are presented with lasting beauty and strength. And a fifth is that their study should introduce students to the great conversation in which these works are engaged - Augustine warily admiring Plato, Hobbes reworking Aristotle, Paine condemning Burke, Eliot recalling Dante, recalling Virgil, recalling Homer - and help students find their own authentic voice as participants in the conversation.
Would it be possible to make an equivalent for science? How would you cover the history of science? What would be the book list? I'm guessing that constructing a science version of Directed Studies would be pretty difficult. Scientific ideas, especially from physics and math, are very abstract and difficult to grasp. If you don't have a good base of math, physics, chemistry, and biology, it'd be hard to have discussions. Moreover, the way that these subjects are taught in K-12 doesn't help. Students are taught to memorize and apply recipes. I don't think freshmen would have enough background. The only book I can think of that would work is Thomas Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions.

20 May 2012

Thought of the day: The self-aware learner

A lot of life seems to be learning self-awareness. Some major examples are being self-aware of your mental/emotional state and being self-aware of your learning process. No one teaches us these things, and few people talk about them.

Actually, that's not completely correct. You go to therapy and talk to a psychologist/psychiatrist/etc. There are different schools of psychology. One of the main branches is psychoanalysis, whose goal is to help the patient understand themselves.

As to learning processes, we spend so much of our lives in school yet we never spend any time thinking about how we learn. Meta-learning is an important topic. As the old cliched saying goes, it's so much more useful to teach someone how to fish than to fish for them. What type of learner are you? Visual? Kinesthetic? When you're confronted with a subject you know a little about it but not very much, how do you approach learning it? How can we teach people how to learn?

One way is project-based learning. Often, a class ends with a one-month long project. This tends to be very short-term and driven by trying to do an adequate enough job for an A. Maybe it would be better to have a class that is entirely focused on a project. Still, that is only a few months in a college course.

How about craft learning? What if you want to be a world-class hockey player or musician or mathematician? This isn't something that can be encapsulated in a class. You need to do a hobby on a semi-serious level for a year or so to get a taste of this. For example, I spent a year learning photography. After a year, I mastered all the basic technical stuff and had gotten a taste of the different fields (e.g. event, portrait, landscape photography). I could recognize what were the big ideas in photography. The use of light and shadow. Colors - warm vs cool colors. Right now, I could probably make a list of what general ideas every photographer should master. Then if you told me what type of photography you wanted to become (say macro), I could write a list of what technical skills you should work on.

Some of the greatest musicians/athletes/actors/etc had a parent who guided them from day one, telling them what to focus on, what skill to learn. A really neat story is László Polgár training his daughters into chess grandmasters. Or they grew up in an area teeming with the best in their field -- like actors and musicians who grew up in New York. These kids could go to the theatre and see world class productions, or find teachers affiliated with Julliard.

12 May 2012

Thought of the day: Inspired connections

I realized that talking to really smart people inspires me to say smart things that I didn't think I knew. Well, that's not completely accurate, more like the underlying thoughts were already there, but talking to someone smarter than you provides the spark that allows you to connect those thoughts. My advisor said that it feels like the words just come out of your mouth. For me, the words feel so new and fresh that it's hard to believe it's me saying them. As if someone else were talking and I'm just an observer.

08 May 2012

Thought of the day: Being a minority

The problem of women in science (or whatever you want to call it) is a fundamentally a problem of being a minority. Many areas of life were traditionally run by white, straight men, and even in the 21st century, it's very hard to break in. Being a minority is always hard. I've been on a sports team where I was surrounded by people were 20 years older, with families, and middle class jobs. The fact that we were all female didn't really matter much. Then I played with a sports club where there were a lot of guys (some women) but they were all around my age and studying science. Much better!

A woman developer gave a talk about making the developing community more female friendly and she has some good examples to illustrate what it's like to be a minority.
So what does it feel like to be a woman in open source? Jono Bacon, at the Community Leadership Summit on the weekend, said — addressing the guys in the room — that if you want to know what it’s like to be a woman in open source, go and get your nails done at a salon. He did this a week or so back, and when he walked into the salon he realised he was the only man there, and felt kind of out of place.

Another example someone suggested is walking into a sports bar on game night wearing the wrong team’s jersey. It can be the most friendly sports bar in the universe, but you’re still going to feel pretty awkward.

So as a woman in open source, it can be a bit like that. You walk into a space, and you feel like you stand out. And there’s enormous pressure to perform well, in case any mistake you make reflects on everyone of your gender.
So if you're lobbying to make life better for women in science, don't make yourself look like a man-hater. Your colleagues are probably white, straight, male, and speak English. They've never been a minority so they just don't know what it's like. Talk to them and educate them.

07 May 2012

Thought of the day: Becoming an autodidact

I've found that the most useful skill to develop is the ability to teach myself. Recently, I found out that the term for this is "autodidact." I wonder if teaching oneself has general principles itself. Here are some of the methods I use to teach myself:
  1. What is universal? What are the most important concepts?
    This is a typical physicist perspective. For example, for photography, I might say the important ideas are light and shadow, the quality of light (diffuse or harsh), warm vs cool colors.
  2. How is this field different from similar fields?
    In physics, we tend to be concerned with finding clean, beautiful, logically consistent mathematical rules for explaining nature. In biology, people are trying to model complicated, messy, real systems.
  3. What is the progression?
    You want to identify where to start, where to end, and how to progress in between. If you don't have a progression, you have no idea how far you have to go or what you've accomplished and it's easy to become frustrated. To learn hockey, you start with skating, then progress to stickhandling and shooting, and finally tactics and teamwork.
  4. Read interviews with important people in the field.
    They'll identify what's important. I learned a lot about narrative and character by reading interviews with distinguished actors.
  5. Listen to what people in the field say or read forums.
    This is a bit trickier because you have to find the right people -- hopefully intelligent, articulate types. This might not be easy. I read theater forums sometimes. I found one forum where people frequently trash shows (though there were some insightful comments if you sifted the wheat from the chaff). The Sondheim specific forum was better because people were more interested in analyzing the shows than shoving their opinions down people's throats.
  6. Find a partner.
    I've never done this, but if you can find someone at a similar level and you get along well, this could be dynamite. You can hang out together, support each other, inspire ideas, etc. I guess this is not being an autodidact, but who cares.
If you try to learn several unrelated fields, you'll start to see patterns and that will make it easier to pickup more subjects.

06 May 2012

Why not to be a workaholic: Finally a real reason

I've been a workaholic. Sometimes it was great and I got tons of stuff done. Other times, I burned out.

Lots of people say, "Don't be a workaholic! You must have balance in your life!" Sorry, but sounds like a mere opinion to me. Everyone has a different idea of what balance means.

If you could work day and night, why not do it? The practical reason is that it's just not sustainable. Burnout is inevitable. (Maybe there's someone superhuman out there. But I don't know anyone personally. Paul Erdos?)

Still, this is a practical reason. I've never come up with a good philosophical reason not be a workaholic. Now, I think I have one. If you're a workaholic, it means you value your work above all other human endeavors. You might think of a priority system where you determine your priorities by how many hours you assign to each aspect of your life. When you're a workaholic, you've assigned infinite hours to your work; no finite number is good enough. In other words, you consider your work to be infinitely more important than anything else. This is a terrible mindset to have. Because there are many other interesting and worthy activities going on in the world. There are other important/brilliant people out there.

We've all met zealots who seem to think they are the most important people in the world. Don't become like that.

21 April 2012

Link of the day: An Invocation for Beginnings

An amazing inspirational video by Ze Frank about fear, creativity, and life among other things.
Don't call it a comb-back; I'll have hair for years.

I'm scared. I'm scared that my abilities are gone. I'm scared that I'm going to fuck this up. And I'm scared of you. I don't want to start, but I will.

This is an invocation for anyone who hasn't begun, who's stuck in a terrible place between zero and one.

Let me realize that my past failures at follow-through are no indication of my future performance. They're just healthy little fires that are going to warm up my ass.

If my FILDI (fuck it let's do it) is strong, let me keep him in a velvet box until I really, really need him. If my FILDI is weak, let me feed him oranges and not let him gorge himself on ego and arrogance.

Let me not hit up my Facebook like it's a crack pipe. Keep the browser closed. If I catch myself wearing a too-too (too fat, too late, too old), let me shake it off like a donkey would shake off something it doesn't like.

When I get that feeling in my stomach -- you know the feeling when all of a sudden you get a ball of energy and it shoots down into your legs and up into your arms and tells you to get up and stand up and go to the refrigerator and get a cheese sandwich -- that's my cheese monster talking. And my cheese monster will never be satisfied by cheddar, only the cheese of accomplishment.

Let me think about the people who I care about the most, and how when they fail or disappoint me... I still love them, I still give them chances, and I still see the best in them. Let me extend that generosity to myself.

Let me find and use metaphors to help me understand the world around me and give me the strength to get rid of them when it's apparent they no longer work.

Let me thank the parts of me that I don't understand or are outside of my rational control like my creativity and my courage. And let me remember that my courage is a wild dog. It won't just come when I call it, I have to chase it down and hold on as tight as I can.

Let me not be so vain to think that I'm the sole author of my victories and a victim of my defeats. Let me remember that the unintended meaning that people project onto what I do is neither my fault or something I can take credit for.

Perfectionism may look good in his shiny shoes but he's a little bit of an asshole and no one invites him to their pool parties.

Let me remember that the impact of criticism is often not the intent of the critic, but when the intent is evil, that's what the block button is for. And when I eat my critique, let me be able to separate out the good advice from the bitter herbs.

(There are few people won't be disarmed by a genuine smile. A big impact on a few can be worth more than a small impact.)

Let me not think of my work only as a stepping stone to something else, and if it is, let me become fascinated with the shape of the stone.

Let me take the idea that has gotten me this far and put it to bed. What I am about to do will not be that, but it will be something.

There is no need to sharpen my pencils anymore. My pencils are sharp enough. Even the dull ones will make a mark.

Warts and all. Let's start this shit up.

(And god let me enjoy this. Life isn't just a sequence of waiting for things to be done.)

09 April 2012

Link of the day: Video games as psychological tools?

I've always loved video games, but nowadays I don't play them much due to both lack of time and lack of innovation in game design. Still, I try to keep up with the discussion of "video games as art" and "the future of video games."

Recently, there was a cleverly written and insightful New York Times essay about "stupid games."

I can sympathize with the author's desire to stay away from "addictive" games which make your unproductive and add nothing to your life. He makes the point that it's true games have been around forever (for example, dice), but video games (starting with Tetris) are addictive in a way that is different and new. Now that you can play games on smartphones, you can play anytime, filling the smallest sliver of time when you're bored. I remember when a friend of mine told me that Baldur's Gate (a PC RPG) was "crack." iPhone games are probably crack+++. The fact is that on a smartphone, you have a tiny screen and a limited control interface, so the games have to be very simple.
This has encouraged a very different kind of game: Tetris-like little puzzles, broken into discrete bits, designed to be played anywhere, in any context, without a manual, by any level of player. (Charles Pratt, a researcher in New York University’s Game Center, refers to such games as “knitting games.”) You could argue that these are pure games: perfectly designed minisystems engineered to take us directly to the core of gaming pleasure without the distraction of narrative.
Sam Anderson, the author, goes on to research the addictive nature of smartphone games by interviewing various game designers. One person he interviews is Zach Gage, an indie game designer. Gage laments the death of public arcades in America. Me, too, although I made a point of visiting arcades in Japan, where they are still very much alive. He's right that there just aren't many social games anymore, but that he means games where you play in the same room with other people. The only games I can think of are sports games, dance/music games, and a few Nintendo games like Mario Kart, Super Smash Brothers, and Super Mario Strikers. Gage also makes the interesting point that many smartphone games are just Gameboy games that have been ported. This is despite the fact that the Gameboy controller interface is completely different -- buttons as opposed to touch screen. There's no creativity. It's obvious that if touch screens had come first, there wouldn't be a game like Tetris on the iPhone.

Gage has multiple projects going on, including a satire of "stupid games."
In fact, one of Gage’s current projects is a satire of the current state of the gaming industry, especially companies’ tendency to try to cash in by copying the latest trend. The game’s working title is “Unify Birds.” It’s exactly the same as Unify except that it has been redesigned in the most superficial possible way: Gage has turned all of the blocks into colorful, wide-eyed birds. “I made a couple of other little changes,” Gage says, “but mainly I just made everything superadorable. It’s been really interesting, because I’ve showed it to people who liked Unify, and they’ll play it, and they’ll be like: ‘Oh, man, Zach. This is a really good game. This is better.’ They wondered what I’ve changed.”
I thought this really shows how manipulative games are. "Stupid games" are designed to tap into the basest of human compulsions and desires, in the above case: cuteness. Anderson tells us that there's even a name for this, it's "gamification." Companies use this all the time, for example, frequent flier miles.

Zynga, a company which is the king of "stupid games", is a target of blame. Many people, including myself, think that Zynga is just peddling a form of digital crack.
Some people argue that Zynga’s signature games — FarmVille, FishVille — shouldn’t even be called games. As Nicholas Carlson of the Web site Business Insider wrote: “They are click-machines powered by the human need to achieve progress by a predictable path and a willingness to pay small amounts of money to make that progress go faster. They are not ‘games.’ ” But you could argue that games like FarmVille are in fact just the logical end of gamification: gamified games. They have the appearance of games, they inspire the compulsions of games, but for many people they are not fun like games.
I remember playing a Gamecube title called Animal Crossing. I liked the fact that the game didn't even try to disguise the fact that there was no point to it. You were forcibly given a house at the beginning of the game and told to pay it off. To do this, you pick fruit, catch fish, etc and sell your goods to the store. As you earn money, you can buy new outfits or decorations for your house. When you find new species of fish or insects, you can also donate these to a museum. After you pay down the house, you're forced to upgrade the house and pay that down, too. So in the end, the game is all about consumerism and hording. And of course, all the characters (except yourself) are cute animals.

Anderson interviews the game designer for Drop7, which is a game that even he found irrepressibly compulsive. The game designer, Frank Lantz, had an interesting view. He thought that instead of thinking of games as fun or crack, we should think of them as a way to test our brain chemistry.
Games, he told me, are like “homebrew neuroscience” — “a little digital drug you can use to run experiments on your own brain.” Part of the point of letting them seduce you, as Lantz sees it, is to come out the other side a more interesting and self-aware person; more conscious of your habits, weaknesses, desires and strengths. “It’s like heroin that is abstracted or compressed or stylized,” he said. “It gives you a window into your brain that doesn’t crush your brain.”
The fact that "stupid games" are so stripped down and designed to feed our compulsions makes us that a good hard look at the question "what is a game". Through the essay, there are a few hints about this.

Certainly there are games that we consider more like "art" and a worthy pursuit.
Chess, you might say, is the king of stupid games: the tide line where stupid games meet genius.
A bit of wisdom from Sid Meier, who developed the fantastic Civilization series (one of the "better" games):
The legendary game designer Sid Meier once defined a game as, simply, “a series of interesting choices.”
Finally, the ending passage from the essay:
Lantz told me that the deepest relationship he has ever had with a game was with poker, to which he was almost dangerously addicted. “Somehow teetering on the edge was part of the fun for me,” he said. “It was like a tightrope walk between this transcendently beautiful and cerebral thing that gave you all kinds of opportunities to improve yourself — through study and self-discipline, making your mind stronger like a muscle — and at the same time it was pure self-destruction. There’s no word for that in English, for a thing that does both of those at the same time. But it’s wonderful.”

I asked him if he knew a word for that in another language.

He said no, but then he thought for a minute.

“I think it’s ‘game,’ ” he said. “I think the word for that is ‘game.’ ”
I'm not sure I agree with that last quote. Would we consider poker self-destructive if we took away the gambling aspect? Honestly, anything can be corrupting or self-destructive. What about chasing money or status? As Lantz says, maybe games are a safe way to learn about our compulsions. What about sports? People frequently call those "games." Are sports considered "worthier" because they are physical and social?

I think a better definition of "game" is something that simulates some aspect of life or human nature, in a self-contained, simplified environment. I prefer a definition that doesn't make value judgments about whether a game is "stupid" or not.

06 April 2012

Thought of the day: Lay down your cynicism

In this time and age, it seems popular to make dystopian films, write ironic too-clever novels, criticize others, worry about how you're not good enough, complain about the state of the world, etc. I think enough is enough. I'm not saying that we should all go back to Disneyland, but if negativity becomes your life, you have to push back.

Lay down your cynicism. Open up yourself. Suspend judgment on others and yourself as long as possible. Take a risk on someone and hope for the good.

23 March 2012

Learning from other fields and cross-training

As I get older, I feel like scientists aren't really good at anything except science. Not that this is entirely surprising or that we should expect scientists to be amazing writers, speakers, etc. But if you're a scientist, you spend all your time immersed in the scientific community, thinking that the quality of writing or presentations that you see there are really the way things should be... well, you should go look at essays in the New Yorker or The Atlantic, or watch TED speakers or theatre performers or standup comics. The professionals of every field tend to have their strengths and weaknesses. If you want to shore up your weaknesses, go look for a field where that particular weakness is a strength, learn from those people, and use them as your inspiration. If you look outside your field, I think you'll have a huge leg up over others.

In sports, we call this cross-training. Athletes have no problem taking up yoga to help their hockey goaltending skills, for instance.

22 March 2012

Opinions and appreciation in culture and art

I've come to realize that there are certain genres or styles of performing art or types of food that I just can't seem to get into. Despite 8 years of piano lessons, I've never really understood classical music. I enjoy flashy violin solos like "Tzigane," but I have no idea what's going on in Mahler's symphonies. I don't get pop or rock music. I still can't tell the difference between various wines. Conversely, there are people who won't get my love of musical theatre, opera, and intense TV drama. (I'm still working on being a better theatre audience member.)

What does it all mean? If I don't appreciate something, is it because it's something innate about my personality (like gloomy people who can't stand Annie-esque material)? Or is it some innate prejudice (like my dad telling me as a child that pop music sucks)? Or is it that I just never met anyone who explained the merits to me, that I didn't have enough exposure to the material as a child?

Whatever the reason, I've learned that taste is very subjective. We shouldn't be dismissive of people's opinions when it comes to art and culture because everyone's opinions are born of complicated circumstances that we're likely never to know. On review websites, instead of saying that other people are wrong, you should say that you don't understand where the dissenters are coming from, or that your taste is different. And if you have a friend who loves death metal or something that you're not into, why not take this as an opportunity to learn why your friend loves the things he/she does?

26 February 2012

All about next to normal

I've become obsessed with the musical next to normal. The composer is Tom Kitt and the lyricist/book writer is Brian Yorkey.

History of the work

Kitt and Yorkey met as undergraduates at Columbia University. In 1998, they presented a 10-minute workshop piece called Feeling Electric. After a couple readings (2002), many workshops (2005, 2006, 2007), and the steadfast backing of producer David Stone, the title of the show was changed to next to normal and was produced off-Broadway at Second Stage Theatre during early 2008. The reviews were mixed, so the producers took the show to Arena Stage in DC, where Kitt, Yorkey, and the creative team tinkered with it until it was deemed ready. Then it premiered on Broadway in April 2009. That only took 10 years (!).

What it's about

The plot of next to normal has some clever twists, so without giving anything away, I would say that it's the story of a generic suburban American family trying to cope with loss and crisis. In the center of it all is the mother, Diana, who can't take care of herself much less her husband Dan, 17-year old son Gabe, and 16-year old daughter Natalie. It turns out that Diana has recurrent manic episodes and delusions, which the doctors think might be bipolar disorder, but they're not sure.

It's easy to call next to normal the musical about the bipolar mother, but that's a huge injustice. There are deeper issues like Diana and Dan's past, and Dan's habit of suppressing bad feelings and hoping that doctors will fix everything. Natalie is frustrated about having a "crazy" mother who monopolizes the attention of the family (namely Dan) and makes Natalie feel "invisible." The fact that Diana "might" be bipolar is very flashy and provocative, allowing for some interesting scenes. But it just happens to be that Diana is mentally ill. She could have had some other illness or be a very difficult person, and many of the same family issues would have come up.

I missed the Broadway production (yeah, stupid me). I've always been a very conservative theatre goer. I tend to see the "classics" like Gypsy and Sunday in the Park with George. I'm pretty sure I heard about next to normal in the New York Times but paid no attention. I didn't think that anyone could do a musical about mental illness. Not that it's really about mental illness, but many people say that. To remind you again, that's wrong!!!

Discussion of the work

With the help of the libretto, cast album, videos, clips, reviews and interviews, I've pieced together a sense of what the stage production must have been like. I understand why people love next to normal. It's (1) an original musical with original music and original story, (2) the book [1] is well-written, challenging, and addresses controversial, relevant issues, (3) the staging is very clever, (4) the music and lyrics are excellent, and (5) the story is personal.

Originality

The way people talk about it, there hasn't been any revolutionary work in musical theatre since Sondheim, his last real success being Into the Woods in 1987. There have been some baby steps moving musical theatre in a more modern direction. Rent (1996) showed that you could use "rock-style" music in a contemporary setting. Spring Awakening (2006) had beautiful alternative rock score that integrated well with a story about teenagers coming of age. As wonderful as Rent and Spring Awakening are, their success derives from celebrating teenage angst and might I say, self-absorption. (Avenue Q has similar themes.) This is clear when you look at the fanbase, which is all pretty much between 12 and 30.

I guess this is better than the "sentimental" and "light-weight" reputation of the Golden Age musicals [2]. All the musicals I've mentioned [3] have barely kept Broadway semi-relevant in an age dominated by Hollywood and internet. Mostly the other musicals are filler -- jukebox musicals like Jersey Boys, productions based on film/TV like Spamalot and Shrek, and revivals. It's wonderful that most of Sondheim's best work has been revived in the last decade, but isn't that a sign that nothing has come along to replace this guy?

What makes next to normal special is that it has both original music and an original story. It is not based on a TV show, movie, play, or book. The story was written from scratch. Moreover, its main theme is not teenage angst (though there is a little bit of that) but timeless, universal issues like grief, spouses who have difficulty communicating, or a daughter who feels ignored and terrified that she'll turn into her mother. Truly a musical you can bring the whole family to!

Themes and book

The discussion of mental illness gives the work a timely relevance and contemporary setting. The musical brings up questions like how should mental illness be treated and how do people deal with their mental illness when modern medicine fails or is unsatisfying? The title of the show provokes some interesting thoughts. What does it mean to be normal? Maybe we can find the bright side of people who are a little "different." Many bipolar people are extraordinarily creative. Is it important to be normal or to reach some ideal? Maybe "next to normal" is good enough. Perhaps we can appreciate what we have and the people who love us even if they aren't quite "normal."

next to normal is well-characterized as an intense dramatic play set to music. If you read the book (libretto) without listening to the music, you'll see that the material is on-par with any straight play. The musical is mostly sung-through which makes the music like a tidal wave pushing you relentlessly through the action. The few non-musical scenes are underscored. The pacing is great -- fast but not too fast. I'm amazed that there are no dull moments in the show. Every scene is interesting. The one exception is the "Song of Forgetting" in Act 2, which as you can tell by the title, was unimaginative. Brian and Tom, what were you thinking? Why would any character sing "sing a song of forgetting" and not just once but multiple times? It seems like a meta-reference, which is not what you want in a realistic musical play.

Back to praise... kudos to Yorkey for the well-done humor in next to normal. The funny things are actually funny and they emerge organically from the characters and their personal situations. For example, some humorous moments arise from Diana's adventures in psychiatric drugs and Natalie's interactions with her boyfriend Henry.

Problems with the book

I am disappointed that the musical feels somewhat anti-medication/anti-ECT and portrays psychiatrists slightly negatively. The writers definitely did their research and attempted to make the portrayal of psychiatry more balanced, but the fact is that there are far more instances where psychiatry is mocked or criticized than advocated. In the ending, it is suggested that Diana stops all medical treatment permanently (she might be continuing talk therapy, it's not clear). There is a point where pain ceases to be educational and is merely pain that prevents you from living your life. Chris Caggiano has similar complaints (though he sounds much more unhappy than me) in his blog review.

Most of my specific complaints are about Act 2. "Light," the show finale, rubs me the wrong way. The constant metaphors of "light" and the cast belting "shine" four times feels borderline religious. The events of Act 2 are dark and ambiguous and not something to celebrate. Broadway musicals suffer from the expectation that the audience must not leave depressed or that there must be a comic scene somewhere, even in the darkest of works [4]. Why not end on some low-key ambiguous dialogue like in Gypsy? Or use a finale song that is not so in-your-face and bright and doesn't sound like a choir at Christmas mass? I think the message of the show is that survival and the acting of moving forward are huge accomplishments in themselves and are not things to be taken lightly. I should say that apparently the writers revised the off-Broadway version of this song to address complaints like mine. I guess it wasn't enough for my satisfaction.

I'm also not entirely happy about using a dramatic conceit (the same thing was done in the Season 1 finale of Homeland). But the payoff was some revealing scenes, most notably about Dan, so it was marginally okay in my book.

This is more minor, but I wasn't a fan of the opening number for Act 2 "Wish I Were Here". It seems like the remnants of the off-Broadway Act 1 finale "Feeling Electric." I felt like Natalie's foray into illicit activities was forced and the act of mother and daughter running around the stage in a trippy haze while lights flash didn't fit the serious tone of the show [5], especially Act 2 which is musically more low-key overall than Act 1.

That said, I've never encountered an (overly?) ambitious musical that didn't have problems. That must be why many musical theatre aficionados consider Gypsy to be the best musical of all-time. It had ambition, but not too much. Writing dramatic musical theatre is incredibly hard, especially in a modern world where people prefer either realism or irony over metaphor in art. Some people might say that it shouldn't be attempted. Obviously, I don't share that opinion, given my life-long love of singing.

Staging

I love the Broadway staging (much of the credit goes to director Michael Greif). The set is sparse -- a few shelves, chairs, a table, a medicine cabinet, and a mock piano. The elaborate part is the three level design with poles. It allows some separation when there are scene with Diana overlapping a scene with another character. I'm not sure about the poles, but they do give the actors some extra options in blocking. It's particularly effective for the character of Gabe who is dancing with the poles and making trouble. There's a fantastic scene during "I'm Alive" where Gabe is on the third level and Diana is at the bottom reaching out towards him.

There are only six characters in the cast and they are on stage almost all the time, except to change clothes. I like how you'll see characters out of the action doing things like Gabe reading a book or Dan cleaning up the house. The blocking is fantastic. The characters move around the stage and go up and down the levels constantly. It feels dynamic and every movement sets up the next one. In general, next to normal is as minimalistic as possible without losing anything -- no fat and all muscle. The work invites intimacy -- the six-person cast, six-person band, and minimalistic staging. It would be fantastic for a small 100-200 seat theatre.

Music

Rent and Spring Awakening showed me how much fun contemporary music can be [6]. I think Spring Awakening might have a better and more creative score than next to normal, but next to normal has the most effective score. Yes, there are some pastiches of folk, rock, Gilbert & Sullivan, and waltzes, but among innovative composers, there is only one Sondheim [7] and the wannabes (Adam Guettel, Jason Robert Brown, etc) haven't come up with any musicals that integrate the music and book well. Plus, Sondheim wrote pastiche scores (Follies, Assassins), too!

I like how Tom Kitt chooses the right style of music for each moment and each character. It's eclectic but it works. Diana is frequently manic and has lots of energy so she has most of the heavy rock numbers [8]. In their key "this is who I am and what I want" songs, Gabe and Natalie sing in a bright rock style which suits their youthful ages. Dan is reserved guy, so he mostly sings moody, lonely ballads.

The two waltzes are wonderfully written and yet completely different aside from the style. The first is a satire and the second is a pivotal emotional scene. The conversations between Natalie and her boyfriend Henry ("Hey #1", "Hey #2", "Hey #3") are low-key, alternative or modern musical theatre [9] style. I took me a while to appreciate these songs, but it's cool to hear songs that are conversational and not "big" or "I want" songs.

My favorite song is "You Don't Know/I Am the One." It's intense, thrilling, and has the most sophisticated and interesting blocking. Diana's tirade really scares me (boy, I'm glad I've never been that depressed), while Dan's angry response makes complete sense to me. I think my personality is probably closest to Dan; I am not Diana jumping on the hospital bed and belting rock songs at the doctor.

Also on my karaoke list, the Gabe and Natalie rock songs "I'm Alive" and "Superboy and the Invisible Girl" (very very fun and showy) as well as Dan's emotionally heavy [10] and touching ballads "I've Been" and "A Light in the Dark." (very very dark and emotional)

Besides "Song of Forgetting", there are two songs I'm lukewarm about. I'm not a huge fan of "I Miss the Mountains," mostly because I don't really like folk music. But I think that's my personal taste. It's a well-done song and there's a nice belt in it, which always makes me happy.

Original Broadway Cast

I should make some remarks about the original Broadway cast (OBC). I didn't see them perform, so I can't really comment on their acting except to say that for the most part, critics and audiences thought they were outstanding. Alice Ripley (Diana) convinced me that singing doesn't always have to be "pretty" (I tend to like the legit, classical style of singing.) and raw, imperfect singing [11] can be beautiful, too, and arguably more interesting than legit singing sometimes. Before I studied (yes, that's the word) next to normal, I had never heard of Ripley (guess I need to brush up on my Broadway knowledge) but she has a reputation for the most gigantic and enthusiastic belt on Broadway [12]. J. Robert Spencer (Dan) has a nice rock voice, but I prefer Brian d'Arcy James' (off-Broadway original and Broadway replacement Dan) strong, expressive baritone for the ballads. Jennifer Damiano (Natalie) and Aaron Tveit (Gabe) sound fantastic. This guy Tveit, how can he be so good looking and have such an amazing voice? What planet does he come from? Adam Chanler-Berat (Henry, Natalie's boyfriend) is absolutely charming, and Louis Hobson (Doctor Fine/Doctor Madden) has a gorgeous, angelic tone to his voice. Despite the small cast, the choral numbers sound much bigger than one would think. Is this some clever sound engineering?

Personal comments

My favorite thing about next to normal is how personal it is. I've been Natalie, Dan, and Diana at various points in time. I understand how they feel and Brian Yorkey's lyrics are spot-on. I feel connected to the story and the characters most of the time (there are a few parts in Act 2 that lose me, but it's minor).

I think Sondheim is fantastic (like everyone else), but I tend to like specific songs. I'm never completely satisfied with his musicals as a whole. next to normal isn't without its flaws, but to me, it's the best musical overall. In the end, that's why we have diversity in art. Hopefully, there is something out there, that speaks to you and resonates for a long time.

Because of next to normal, I've reached a new level in my understanding of theatre. It's inspired me to think about how to play characters in different ways (for example, Marin Mazzie, Ripley's replacement, played Diana very differently) and the importance of making good acting decisions so that the work hangs together as a whole (acting choices for Dan affects how Diana is played; playing one scene one way might be exciting for that scene individually, but not be consistent with other scenes). I understand why English professors love deep plays like Hamlet. I don't think next to normal is Hamlet, but I find that I learn new things on repeated viewings. I understand why theatre nuts get excited about understudies going on a Broadway show -- it's fun to see how a different actor will interpret the role. There are many interesting ways to play Diana, Dan, and Natalie and that separates next to normal from most musicals.

After this ridiculously long post, the only thing left to say is that if there's a production of Next to Normal playing near you, go see it!








[1] The book of a musical is like the equivalent of a movie script or the dialogue and stage directions for a play. Many musicals fail due to a badly written book.

[2] There are some fantastic musicals that are amazing and definitely not "light," for example, Gypsy, West Side Story, South Pacific, and most of Sondheim's work.

[3] I might also add The Lion King, Wicked, and the various British pop operas written by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Claude-Michel Schönberg.

[4] In particular, I think of "The Song of Purple Summer" from Spring Awakening (two main characters died, but we need to make the audience feel okay!) and a very awkward joke about dumb Texans in Sunday in the Park with George.

[5] Jesse Green of New York Magazine has similar comments in an interesting lament about "bombast" on Broadway.

[6] I grew up with one parent who liked oldies and another parent who thought anything but classical music is trash, so my taste through high school was only musicals and classical. I didn't start listening to "contemporary" music until I was 21.

[7] Not that my musical theater knowledge is particularly extensive, but I can think of one more example: Leonard Bernstein's West Side Story.

[8] I feel concerned for whoever plays Diana. Those heavy rock numbers, constant singing, heavy intense scenes, 2 hours on stage -- I wonder if the actress will either shred her voice or collapse.

[9] What I mean by modern musical theatre style is Sondheim and the young guys who look up to him, the before-mentioned Guettel, Jason Robert Brown, etc.

[10] HUGE SPOILER






These songs are sooo heavy. In "I've Been," we see Dan cleaning up the blood from his wife's suicide attempt and squeezing blood out of the towel. In "A Light in the Dark," Dan is trying to persuade his wife to go through with the ECT treatment, believing that it will save her life.





END OF HUGE SPOILER

[11] Though I'm confused sometimes whether Ripley is singing in character voice or if her voice is strained. Supposedly, she told some students at a master class that she bruised a vocal cord back when the show was doing its off-Broadway run and I don't know if she ever fully recovered from that injury.

[12] Someone said she should get an award for "belting your face off." In Side Show, she belts for 45 seconds. Insanity. Also, check out Alice Ripley and Anthony Rapp singing "Take me or leave me" from Rent. More insane singing.

24 February 2012

Quote of the day: "Amateurs copy, professionals steal"

Amateurs copy, professionals steal. I've heard this idea before, but I was reminded of it when I watched the American Theatre Wing: Working in the Theatre video podcast, where they did a panel discussion with four Tony Award winning actresses from musical theater -- Laura Benanti, Beth Leavel, Bebe Neuwirth and Alice Ripley.

At 8:12, Alice Ripley brings up this idea:
And then, if you're going to play Evita. You would just have to steal everything from Patti LuPone or from Elaine Page. ... Because if you don't do that, you're a fool. You know, and then once you look at it that way, when you do it then, if you're recreating something, then it's still different because it's you and you're so different from everybody else. But like it's like you have to copy as much as you can. Actually, what is it, "amateurs copy and pros steal?" ... So steal it...
At 18:00, Bebe Neuwirth responds to Ripley's earlier comment:
I did an understudy with [director] once. After rehearsal, he said "do it if they're doing it and it works, do it." And I think the distinction that you have to make is, as you [Ripley] said before, is interesting when you said "amateurs copy, professionals steal." ... To copy something means ... there's something on the surface. But if you steal it, you're actually making it your own, and you are investing in that. Then there's something within it that ... becomes you.
The new thing I learned is that not only do you want to "steal" without shame, but you also want to make it your own. It's a good plan to copy people you admire until you can do things by yourself, but you don't want to get stuck doing a pale imitation of them. You want to make it part of you, with the full weight of your confidence and personality behind it.

07 February 2012

Song of the day: "You don't know/I am the one" by Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey

I recently saw the Tony Award performance (2009) from next to normal. Wow! That's probably the best Tony performance I've seen, aside from Patti LuPone's bring-down-the-house rendition of "Everything's coming up roses" from Gypsy. I'm not sure what I was doing in 2009, but I did go see West Side Story. As far as I remember, it was a slow year for musicals. I vaguely heard about next to normal, but at the time, I wasn't interested in seeing a musical about mental illness.

next to normal isn't so much about mental illness, but about a dysfunctional family whose primary dysfunction happens to be the mother, Diana, who has bipolar disorder with delusions (though you find out that the father, Dan, has his own, more subtle problems). I'm not a huge fan of rock music, but I think it works pretty well in the big number "You don't know/I am the one" that the cast performed during the Tony Awards. The number isn't a typical beautiful ballad, splashy song, or Sondheimesque cabaret piece. It's really a huge fight between a husband and wife, but set to music. The rock music highlights the extreme emotions bouncing around during the scene.

All the actors are amazing. Diana (played by Alice Ripley) alternates between aggressively fighting off the "cage" erected by her illness and her husband, and looking scared to death and out of her mind. I sympathized with her frustration with well-meaning caretakers and her desire to lash out (most graphically depicted by her violently throwing cutlery). I found it riveting the way Ripley wears emotions on her face. She's menacing while waving knives at her husband, then seems afraid of him when he fights back (her body keeps shaking). She takes a step towards her husband and then bends backwards when he comes at her again. The way she looks terrified and about to crack when she has both her husband and her son singing to her in her ear, competing for her attention.

Dan (played by J. Robert Spencer) seems like the well-meaning, but exasperated and domineering caretaker. When he sings "I am the one who knows you/I am the one who cares/I am the one who's always been there," I couldn't help imagining the emotional blackmail that Diana and Dan are capable of inflicting on each other. I really liked how Spencer moved in time to the music. All the actors do this to some degree (almost like choreography), but Spencer does it really well when he walks behind his wife's back, after singing "And if you think that I just don't give a damn/ Then you just don't know who I am."

I enjoyed the so-called psycho-sexual tension going on between Diana and her son Gabe (played by Aaron Tviet). Actually, it looks like sexual tension, but (SPOILER) it's not because Gabe died when he was 18 months old. So he's really a metaphor for Diana's inner mind. I interpret the tension as Diana wanting to give in to her illness and stop all medical treatment (which she finds stifling and numbing). I think when you are struggling with a mental illness for so long (16 years in Diana's case), at some point you want to give up and embrace the illness. The illness becomes what's "normal" to you. It makes sense to me that the idea of embracing the illness is a kind of seduction. Society looks down on the notion of "giving up" on fighting illness (particularly mental illness, which some think of as a character flaw), so I find the metaphor of a forbidden, incestuous relationship rather apt.

I haven't seen the musical on stage, but I get the feeling that it's a serious, intense, intimate, and contemporary play that happens to be set to music. This makes next to normal novel and ground-breaking, which is probably why it won the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. There aren't many original musicals written in contemporary music that tackle hard issues like how mental illness damages a family. I'm extremely impressed with this work.
DIANA (spoken)
You know. Really? What, exactly, do you know?

DAN (spoken)
I know you're hurting. I am, too.

DIANA
Do you wake up in the morning
And need help to lift your head?
Do you read obituaries
And feel jealous of the dead?
It's like living on a cliffside
Not knowing when you'll dive...
Do you know
Do you know, what it's like to die alive?

When the world that once had color fades to white and gray and black...
When tomorrow terrifies you, but you'll die if you look back.

You don't know.
I know you don't know.
You say that you're hurting--
It sure doesn't show.
You don't know...
It lays me so low
When you say let go,
And I say
You don't know.

The sensation that you're screaming,
But you never make a sound.
Or the feeling that you're falling,
But you never hit the ground--
It just keeps on rushing at you
Day by day by day by day...
You don't know
You don't know what it's like to live that way.
Like a refugee, a fugitive, forever on the run...
If it gets me, it will kill me-- but I don't know what I've done.

DAN
Can you tell me
What it is you're afraid of?
And can you tell me why I'm afraid it's me?
Can I touch you?
We've been fine for so long now,
How could something go wrong that I can't see?
'Cause I'm holding on,
And I won't let go
I just thought you should know...

I am the one who knows you,
I am the one who cares,
I am the one who's always been there.
I am the one who's helped you
And if you think that I just don't give a damn,
Then you just don't know who I am.

Could you leave me

GABE
Hey, Dad, it's me.

DAN
Could you let me go under?

GABE
Why can't you see?

DAN
Will you watch as I drown
And wonder why

GABE
I wonder why.

DAN
Are you bleeding?

GABE
Are you waiting, are you wishing,
Are you wanting all that she can't give?

DAN
Are you bruised, are you broken?

GABE
Are you hurting, are you healing,
Are you hoping for a life to live?

DAN
Does it help you to know
That so am I

GABE
Well, so am I.

DAN
Tell me what to do

GABE
Look at me.

DAN
Tell me who to be

GABE
Look at me.

DAN
So I can see what you see.

GABE
And you'll see...

DAN
I am the one who'll hold you

GABE
I am...

DAN
I am the one who'll stay

GABE
I am...

DAN
I am the one who won't walk away.

GABE
I won't walk away.

DAN
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I am the one who'll hear you

GABE
I am...

DAN
And now you tell me that I won't give a damn

GABE
You don't give a damn.

DAN
But I know you know who I am.

GABE
Who I am

DAN
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

GABE
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

DAN
That's who I am

GABE
I am

DAN
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

GABE
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

DAN
That's who I am

GABE
Who I am

DAN
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

GABE
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

DAN
That's who I am.
'Cause I'm holding on...

DIANA
You say you hurt like me...

GABE
And I won't let go...

DIANA
You say that you know...

DAN and GABE
Yeah, I thought you should know.
Oh...

DIANA
Oh...
You don't know.

DAN and GABE
I am the one who knows you,

DIANA
I know you don't know.

DAN and GABE
I am the one who cares,

DIANA
You say that you're hurting,
I know it ain't so.

DAN and GABE
I am the one who's always been there.

DIANA
You don't know...

DAN and GABE
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I am the one who needs you

DIANA
Why don't you just go?

DAN and GABE
And if you think that I just
Don't give a damn

DIANA
'Cause it lays me low
When I say,

DAN
Then you just don't know who I am

DIANA
You don't know...

DAN
Who I am

DIANA
You don't know...

DAN
Who I am

GABE
You just don't know who I am.

02 February 2012

Link of the day: "To know, but not understand"

I liked the essay "To know, but not understand" by David Weinberger in The Atlantic. Weinberger discusses one of the major shifts in science today -- the data deluge. Here's the issue in a nutshell:
In 1963, Bernard K. Forscher of the Mayo Clinic complained in a now famous letter printed in the prestigious journal Science that scientists were generating too many facts. Titled Chaos in the Brickyard, the letter warned that the new generation of scientists was too busy churning out bricks -- facts -- without regard to how they go together. Brickmaking, Forscher feared, had become an end in itself. "And so it happened that the land became flooded with bricks. ... It became difficult to find the proper bricks for a task because one had to hunt among so many. ... It became difficult to complete a useful edifice because, as soon as the foundations were discernible, they were buried under an avalanche of random bricks."
And that letter is from 1963! Weinberger points out that thanks to computer power (Moore's Law) and cheap digital storage, we have even more data than we know what to do with. But as much as it seems like computers are the problem, they might also be the solution. He talks about modelling science, which uses computers to perform simulations and software like Eureqa which looks for patterns in data and generates equations to encapsulate those patterns. Of course, this isn't as satisfying as Maxwell's equations and the like, but it looks like this is something we'll have to live with. As Weinberger states,
The world's complexity may simply outrun our brains capacity to understand it.