The haunted house has undergone reconstruction in recent years. Instead of spectres of Victorian children and women in white gowns floating through grand houses to torment the gullible new homeowners who couldn’t believe the incredible deal they got on the long-abandoned mansion in the middle of nowhere, monsters reside in the very foundations of the building. No longer hiding in plain sight, creatures creep behind the cladding, adding a further layer of mystery to their presence. Evil seeping into the foundations of our homes has perhaps been used most effectively in Remi Weekes’ His House (2020) and Natalie Erika James’ Relic (2020).
The Gothic Revival
We stayed there until we felt ready to continue our adventure. As I tramped through the tall grass like a Gothic heroine, I understood why Ann Radcliff’s Emily St Aubert was so drawn to exploring the deep woods and towering mountains, and the Brontë sisters’ heroines were tightly connected to wild moors and angry storms. It made me think that perhaps we’re not as far removed from the swooning maidens of Gothic literature as we might like to believe.
Art Isn't Dead: Bo Burnham, Performance and the Audience
Creating art has become more difficult in the digital era. Thanks to our daily access to anything we could ever want being carried in our back pockets, the lines between art and content have severely blurred. We don’t enjoy art in the same way we enjoy content. Yes, there’s an overlap of creative skill involved in each. But art has something to say; content has something to sell.
Celebrating Snail Mail: Rediscovering the Joy of Writing Letters
The act of writing forces us to slow down. The empty page isn’t just another open tab on the screen. The absence of the blinking text cursor at the top of a blank page allows the writer time to think. It’s a reflective and purposeful experience that doesn’t demand an immediate reaction. There’s no room for rapid task switching: it holds our attention as we concentrate on sharing our stories and filling the page by drawing each word, one letter at a time.
Dear Maria, Count Me In: Exploring Pop Punk's Pandemic Evolution
I don’t think it’s an accident that pop punk is having its moment in the height of a pandemic where we seem to be pushing against the weight of the world on a near-daily basis. Yes, the upbeat rhythms are an instant mood-booster, but most bands in the emo/pop punk scene focus lyrically on mental health and finding strength in community. Gone are the days where pop punkers croon about their bitch-of-an-ex or pine over unrequited love (though there are still some great songs about relationships being released). Instead, they directly address themes like confidence (or lack thereof), feeling overwhelmed, going to therapy, depression and grief; things many of us are feeling right now. It’s a cathartic medium in a time where we’re trying to make sense of a world that needs to change but the traditions feel firmly wedged in place.