‘Abbott Elementary’ breaks boundaries at the 74th Emmys, wins three accolades

Photo courtesy of NASA Goddard Space Flight Center via Wikimedia Commons.
“Abbott Elementary,” a mockumentary-comedy in its second season, was awarded three Emmys.

By Oakley Marton ’25

Staff Writer

It’s rare that a show featuring a self-described “underfunded and poorly-managed public school in America” wins three Emmys. It’s even rarer that it’s a comedy show. Yet “Abbott Elementary” is quickly becoming one of America’s favorite shows, winning awards that have broken barriers for Black creators and actors last Monday, just before the show’s highly anticipated second season released on Wednesday, Sept. 21.

“Abbott Elementary” is a mockumentary-style workplace comedy about teachers at an underfunded, majority-Black elementary school in Philadelphia. The show has received rave reviews from critics like The Guardian and The New York Times, a 98 percent Rotten Tomatoes critic rating and an average of eight million viewers across all platforms. 

The show’s large fan following from teachers has been particularly heartwarming to the cast and crew. This relationship is exemplified by a resolution from Helen Gym — a former teacher and current city council member of Philadelphia — to honor Brunson for the creation of the show, according to the Philadelphia City Council Twitter. This week, the cast and crew found themselves celebrated in a new arena — the 74th Primetime Emmy Awards.

Quinta Brunson — producer, lead actor and writer for “Abbott Elementary” — was nominated for three Emmys at the 74th Emmys on Sept. 12, becoming the first Black person to be nominated in three different comedy categories in the same year. 

“She’s a triple threat,” Warner Bros. TV chairman Channing Dungey said of Brunson in an interview with Variety. “There are very few people I would consider her peers.”

 Brunson was born in Philadelphia, where her mother worked as a teacher. She grew to internet fame by making viral comedy videos for Buzzfeed from 2014 to 2018. She then left to star on HBO’s “A Black Lady Sketch Show,” later beginning work on “Abbott Elementary.”

According to People, Brunson was inspired by her own experiences in her mother’s classroom and even named the show after Mrs. Abbott, her favorite teacher. The show’s majority-Black cast and its candid takes on public education are far from the norm in Hollywood, yet its authenticity and character-driven comedy put it among the most highly broadcast shows on television.

While its fanbase boomed, the show received seven Emmy nominations this year — including for Outstanding Comedy Series — and won for Outstanding Writing in A Comedy Series, Outstanding Supporting Actress and Outstanding Casting for a Comedy Series. Quinta Brunson was the second Black woman to win the writing category, the first being Lena Waithe in 2017 for Netflix’s “Master of None.” Sheryl Lee Ralph, the “Dreamgirls” star who plays the no-nonsense veteran teacher Barbara on “Abbott,” was the second Black woman to win in that category since Jackée Harry in 1987 for “227.” In her acceptance speech, Ralph sang an excerpt from “Endangered Species” by Dianne Reeves. “I’ve been singing that song for years because I think of myself as an artist, as a woman, especially as a woman of color — I’m an endangered species. I don’t sing any victim song. I’m a woman. I’m an artist and I know where my voice belongs,” she stated at the end of her speech. Harry tweeted to Ralph after her win, saying, “For 35 years I’ve been the only Black woman to win Outstanding Supporting Actresses in a Comedy Series. But that all changes tonight … and it’s come full circle!”

“I think of myself as an artist, as a woman, especially as a woman of color — I’m an endangered species. I don’t sing any victim song. I’m a woman. I’m an artist and I know where my voice belongs.”

— Sheryl Lee Ralph

In this emotionally-charged atmosphere that celebrated the talent of Black artists whom institutions like the Emmys rarely recognize, some were frustrated at Emmy host Jimmy Kimmel’s joke before Brunson’s win, wherein he pretended to be so inebriated that the category announcer had to drag him out from backstage. A controversy emerged, with concerned fans and stars, including Ralph, expressing that Brunson needing to step over his body to give her acceptance speech felt disrespectful and took away from the moment, according to HuffPost. 

After the show, Brunson commented, “I think in that moment, I was just really happy that it was Jimmy up there,” who she has described as a “comedy godfather” and one of the first to watch “Abbott.” She continued, “I don’t know, tomorrow maybe I’ll be mad at him. I’m gonna be on his show on Wednesday, so I might punch him in the face,”she joked. “I don’t know. We’ll see what happens.”

That Wednesday, during his “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” monologue, Brunson “interrupted” Kimmel, walking onto the stage in a sparkling pink dress, Emmy in hand. “I have a little favor to ask, actually,” she said once the cheers for her had died down. “So you know how when you win an Emmy, you only have 45 seconds to do an acceptance speech, which is like, not that much time?” she asked him rhetorically, tampering down a grin. “Then you get less time, because someone does a dumb comedy bit that goes on a bit too long?”

“You know, I have heard of that happening in previous years,” Kimmel joked. 

“Right, right. Well, I was wondering — or more, demanding — if I could I have a couple of extra minutes to thank a couple of extra people I didn’t get to on Monday night,” Brunson continued. The crowd burst into cheers again as Kimmel exited and Bruson recreated her acceptance speech, thanking different comedy writers that inspired her: Channing Dungey, the first Black American president of a major broadcast TV network, “the internet for raising me and to all my ‘Abbott Elementary’ writers watching, I wouldn’t have this without you. Now, please go to bed. We have work tomorrow — even though you’re adults and I have no jurisdiction over when you sleep,” she finished, ending with a smile wrapped in the glow of the gold trophy she carried. 

Brunson’s comedic strengths and the power of her fans helped her steer the conversation back to the highly anticipated season two of Abbott Elementary, and the unique place it’s carving out on television right now. On the red carpet, the showrunner reflected on what it meant to her to write a show that resonated with so many, especially teachers. “My mom was a teacher. I was so close to it all my life. I was in my mom’s class. Schools like Abbott, with Black children and Black teachers who care about them, they’re very special places. Places of community and safety and morals and intense humor.” 

Abbott Elementary is a love letter to teachers, filtered through the intense humor Brunson and the cast cultivate so well. This season, the show will be diving into new storylines of characters like Barbara, the oldest teacher, learning how to make her class accessible to a student who uses a wheelchair; Melissa, a veteran teacher managing high class sizes and, of course, many will be watching closely to see if Gregory and Janine’s will-they-won’t-they grows into something more. Season two, episode two of “Abbott Elementary” premieres on ABC Wednesday, Sept. 28, at 9 p.m. EST.

‘Concourse: New Dances by Barbie Diewald and Shakia The Key’ debuts on campus, combines contemporary dance with hip-hop

Photo by Rosemery Geib ’23.
“Concourse: New Dances by Barbie Diewald and Shakia The Key,” combined parts of contemporary dance and hip-hop in appreciation of each genre.

By Jada Jackson ’26

Staff Writer

“Concourse: New Dances by Barbie Diewald and Shakia The Key,” which took place in the Kendall Sports & Dance Complex on Sept. 16 and 17, did exactly as its name suggests. By definition, a concourse is a coming together of two or more things, and the performance was just that: a breathtaking blend of both contemporary dance and hip-hop. The two styles of dance have been pitted against each other since their inception, yet their conjunction created an experience that made it hard to look away and showed love to both genres. 

The show began with a few moments of silence, allowing the audience to sit with each other before the dancing started. As the lights illuminated three of the dancers, Assistant Professor of Dance and “Concourse” choreographer Barbie Diewald revealed herself to the audience. Aside from the soft music playing — which almost controlled the dancers — all that could be heard in the theater was the movement of bare feet and the melodic voices of the performers. The dancers maneuvered with calculated steps around vases, which represented new beginnings. “Each time I found out a new friend was pregnant, I filled another vase,” Diewald explained in the program. Their movements were paired with soft harmonies and the squeaks of their soles. As the piece continued and the sound grew to an almost ear splitting volume, they began to sing. The performance became more fluid and less statuesque. They danced, “fluid[ly] with each other… kind of like supportiv[ly],” Cindy Palacios ’26 commented. 

As they danced, they held onto each other, pushed each other and caught each other. It appeared to be a tug of war between the performers. In the end, the dancers took their original form, mimicking the beginning of the performance. The music ended, the singing stopped and the dancers stilled. 

After a round of applause and a standing ovation, the room filled with music one would expect at a house party. The lights were no longer soft — they instead morphed into a dark red. The entire crowd had a different energy, a 180-degree shift from the still, focused tone during Diewald’s earlier performance. The dancers brought out an energy that contrasted yet complemented the prior part of the show. They physically supported each other just as much, though they were more vocal. The dancers acted as their own hype men, and the crowd joined in. Hip movements were prominent throughout this piece, displayed in its whining and twerking. Even the faces of the dancers brought high energy with tongues out and faces scrunched together. As the dancers came on and offstage, the audience was presented with entrancing movements once again before the tone shifted.

The audience was still hyped up. The live drums demanded attention, but the music shifted and only a single person, Amisi Nazaire-Hicks, stood onstage. The lights were no longer red but a sensual orange and purple. “The drum is our heartbeat,” the program reads — and in this piece it surely was. The music picked up and she danced. Her body moved in tandem with the music. The music was in her blood, except this time it wasn’t energizing hip-hop but sensual R&B and Afrobeats. Her form was focused but also free — she was free. 

The piece switched back to more energized music. It was loud again, but the lights were bright white. The dancers crept in and out as they danced, telling the same story but in different movements. A dance circle, again showing their support for one another, made the audience shimmy their shoulders along with the dancers on stage. 

The final piece — the true concourse — was a beautiful blend of both Diewald’s and Assistant Professor of Dance and “Concourse” choreographer Shakia “The Key” Barron’s forms of dance. Audience member Melanie Leriche ’26 felt empowered while watching the final piece. “There were no words, it was all based off of emotion and movement. They didn’t need any words. … It was very empowering… as a whole [to see] different [people] coming together to express a story,” she said.

“There were no words, it was all based off of emotion and movement. They didn’t need any words. … It was very empowering… as a whole [to see] different [people] coming together to express a story.”

— Melanie Leriche ’26

“Concourse” is an empowering work of art that combines two completely different yet inextricably intertwined genres in the name of empowerment, support and the importance of movement as a form of healing. Diewald and Barron put their very souls into the show and audiences left seeing both genres as companions rather than the enemies they are made out to be. Despite their differences, the necessity of dance is the same in both genres.

Metropolitan Museum of Art under scrutiny for possessing trafficked antiquities

Photo courtesy of Hugo Schneider via Creative Commons.
Pictured above, the Metropolitan Museum of Art entrance in Manhattan, New York City. The museum is repatriating 27 works of art — valued at over $13 million — back to Rome, Greece and Egypt.

Lily Hoffman Strickler ’23

Staff Writer

The New York Metropolitan Museum of Art has found itself in the international spotlight following the seizure of 27 works of art from its collections by investigators. Altogether, the pieces taken — which are reported to have been looted from ancient Rome, Greece and Egypt — are valued at over $13 million. 

The seizure was conducted by the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office Antiquities Trafficking Unit. The group — which includes art experts, criminal investigators and prosecutors — tackles issues relating to the “elite” side of the New York art scene and the repatriation of looted artwork, according to The Atlantic. The methods by which The Met collects their art have been scrutinized by investigators over the past couple of decades, with many of their policies and procedures also under examination. The reclaimed art, which includes pieces such as the marble head of Greek goddess Athena and a bronze statuette depicting the Roman god Jupiter, will be returned to their places of origin in a repatriation ceremony, Smithsonian Magazine reported. 

This repossession has prompted discussion surrounding problems in the art acquisition processes used by museums and the increasing amount of art discovered to have been sold or obtained under illegal and unethical pretenses. According to The Atlantic, the Antiquities Trafficking Unit has impounded over 3,600 pieces of art over the past decade, culminating at around $200 million worth of art obtained through organized trafficking. 

When it comes to what the process of repatriation of art is like once it is in the possession of a museum — collector or auction house — Associate Curator of Visual and Material Culture and NAGPRA Coordinator at Mount Holyoke College Art Museum Aaron Miller is the one to ask. “Any institution that has taken federal funds is required to assess their collection, do an inventory and reach out to communities that are actually represented in the collection,” says Miller. Most of the decision-making power, he continued, resides on the side of the museum — not the government or state. 

This is not the first time the Metropolitan Museum of Art has come under scrutiny for unethical art acquisition. In 2019, the museum was under review and returned a looted coffin from Egypt, in 2021 returned two Nigerian artifacts and in August 2022 returned looted art from Nepal. It is necessary that establishments conduct the necessary review and research before they come into possession of art — especially when lack of money and resources do not pose an issue. “The numbers are rapidly adding up,” Tess Davis, the executive director of the Antiquities Coalition said in an interview with The International Consortium of Investigative Journalists regarding the seizures at the Met. “In what other context could you make headlines so often for holding stolen property and not face any consequences?” 

Miller does not believe this surge of investigations and seizures poses a threat to the museum industry. “It’s an interesting moment for institutions that have monumental works that they’re very much attached to, because these are often things that those source communities are also attached to getting back.”

The Antiquities Trafficking Unit has repeatedly investigated The Met closely regarding art trafficking, with the recent seizure creating widespread publicity when articles from The New York Times and NPR made their way to the Google trending page. Given recent movements for stolen art to be returned to its rightful owners — especially art from colonized countries — investigations like these ensure that pressure is building upon art collectors. This pressure requires collectors to rethink the fundamentals of buying art, and consider how it might be done so that not only the objects are protected, but the culture and history that created them.

Netflix’s ‘Heartstopper’ centers LGBTQ+ representation with queer love story

Graphic by Rose Cohen ’22.

By Rose Cohen ’22

Arts & Entertainment Editor

If you are looking for a heartfelt LGBTQ+ teen drama full of longing glances, moments of yearning and killer chemistry between its two leads, you might want to watch “Heartstopper,” a new Netflix original series about two students attending a British all-boys secondary school. While the romantic relationship that unfolds between the main characters may be unsurprising, viewers seeking shows that explore LGBTQ+ issues should not be bothered by this fact since there are only a number of shows on television featuring this type of queer relationship — one defined by innocence and love. 

Based on the Webtoon by English author and artist Alice Oseman, “Heartstopper” focuses on the blossoming romance between the empathetic, anxious Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) and rugby king Nick Nelson (Kit Connor). In the first episode, which premiered on April 22, the two meet in secondary school when a teacher assigns the unlikely pair to sit next to each other. From their first encounter, Charlie and Nick form a strong bond, attending parties together, sending comforting messages to one another and meeting each other’s families. 

The type of love that unfolds between Charlie and Nick is predictable — early on in the series, Charlie, who is openly gay, develops a crush on Nick, who has never questioned his identity as a heterosexual man. When the pair begin spending more time together, Nick must grapple with his sexuality and come to terms with the nature of his feelings for Charlie. Some of the show’s best moments arrive as Nick struggles to figure out what Charlie means to him. When the two communicate via Instagram messaging, for example, and Nick offers Charlie a chance to talk about a difficult relationship in his life, it’s obvious how significant Charlie is to Nick. The amount of undeniable chemistry between Locke and Connor plays a major role in how realistic the relationship between Charlie and Nick seems. In one scene, an emotional Nick opens up his laptop and hesitatingly types “Am i gay?” into his Google search bar. In her review of the show for Cosmopolitan, Editorial Assistant and Junior Entertainment and Lifestyle Writer Emily Gulla focused on the importance of this sequence, writing, “Reacting to the series online, fans have been busy discussing the moment, pointing out how relatable the Google search and subsequent ‘Am I gay?’ quizzes available online are for queer people, especially teens.” 

While Charlie and Nick are the key players in “Heartstopper,” it would be remiss to not mention the secondary characters who are friends with the two main teenagers. There’s Tara (Corinna Brown) and Darcy (Kizzy Edgell), a lesbian couple who attend an all-girls school and help the show provide a more inclusive portrayal of what LGBTQ+ relationships can look like. There’s also Elle (Yasmin Finney), who allows the show to explore what it means to be a transgender person of color during teenagehood. 

Though the show contains few surprises in its first season, the relationship between Nick and Charlie and the story arcs of the supporting characters make “Heartstopper” one to watch.

‘ua, ia + ed present: Juice Box Party The Gallery Show’ celebrates friendship

Photo by Ali Meizels ’23.
From left: professor of art Lisa Iglesias, Olivia Brandwein ’22, Rua McGarry ’22, Fred Bird ’23 and assistant professor of art Amanda Maciuba pose at the “Juice Box Party” gallery opening.

By Liz Lewis ’22

Managing Editor of Content

The drab white walls of the Blanchard Hall Gallery exploded with vibrant color on the evening of April 22. The opening reception of “ua, ia + ed Present: Juice Box Party The Gallery Show,” the collaborative senior showcase of art studio majors Olivia Brandwein ’22, Rua McGarry ’22 and Fred Bird ’23 began at 6 p.m. 

The showcase’s title was fittingly unconventional — both in its play on the last two letters of each artist’s first name and in the phrase “Juice Box Party.” To the immediate left of the gallery’s entrance, a display block turned makeshift table was nestled in the corner, bearing juice boxes, stacks of colorful party hats, stickers and a bowl of crayons. Many of the couple dozen attendees donned the sparkly hats as they milled around the exhibits. The unmistakable slurping noise of apple juice whizzing through a plastic straw punctuated conversation throughout the night. 

The far corners of the room were each plastered with brightly colored patterns in full scale installations. McGarry’s wallpapered dining room scene titled “Make yourself at home” stood in the back left corner. To the right was Bird’s “FREDSCAPE,” a neon maximalist splash of stenciled patterns on layered handmade paper. A dollhouse constructed by Brandwein out of cardboard and found materials stood on a platform against the left wall in front of McGarry’s installation. A short film of looping vignettes featuring Bird and Brandwein — dressed as a clown and a mime, respectively — was projected on the opposite wall. In between these pieces hung countless other works, including prints by all combinations of the three artists and selections from drawings that Brandwein created as a child. 

Bird, Brandwein and McGarry became friends and collaborators this year while working in the art studio department. Upon seeing common and complementary themes in their individual practices, they decided to work together on a final showcase. 

According to the gallery statement, “The work of these artists explore ideas of domesticity, identity and play through prints, installations, video and mixed-media sculptures. The show is a celebration of collaboration and friendship.” 

In “Juice Box Party The Gallery Show,” collaboration is everywhere, from a blind contour drawing etched into magic scratch paper by all three artists, to Bird and Brandwein’s short film, to a collaborative print layering a design of a shadow puppet rabbit by Brandwein and a living room scene by McGarry. 

“It was really joyous,” Bird said of the collaborative process. “I feel like all of our works … [are] talking about difficult things like consumerism and bodies and identity, but there’s these exciting moments of enthusiasm and joy, so the space coming together and then the party just really topped it off.” 

Brandwein sees the approachable, celebratory theme as a way into more serious topics, including embodied identity, commodification and domesticity. 

“I think the three of us use things like humor, color and pattern as ways to invite the viewer in and act as entry points for exploring deeper concepts,” she said. 

McGarry highlights repeating images

McGarry’s “Make yourself at home” follows this sentiment in the communication of its theme. The piece features a table, set for one, and a chair facing a mirror hanging on the wall. Viewers are invited to sit at the table themselves. During the gallery opening, several attendees took mirror selfies while seated in the chair. 

“Make yourself at home” leaves no surface blank. Everything from the chair’s legs to the checkerboarded floor is covered in a pattern which layers relief stamps of grapefruit and nude bodies. This pattern is built from a combination of two of McGarry’s previous works. 

One of them, titled “I have eight,” features stamps of a torso repeated in a pattern, taking after the pop art movement to comment on the commodification of bodies. “I was like, what if, instead of soup cans, it was my body?” McGarry explained. In the other piece, “so happy you’re here (queer)” McGarry photographed her friends eating fruit as a meditation on queerness, which she described as a “play on being ‘fruity.’” 

These ideas manifest in the grapefruit and body stamps which cover every inch of “Make yourself at home.” 

“I was thinking about … the commodification and hypersexualization and objectification of queer people — where does that come from? When did I first think about that? It was at the dining room table,” McGarry said. “I think that those things often do come from your house and growing up. Your parents need to be pretty intentional to not be enforcing those ideas.” 

“I wanted to create a scene where people are invited to sit at that table and be surrounded by this … encompassing, overwhelming feeling,” McGarry said. Due to the placement of the well-worn mirror on the other end of the table, McGarry’s piece also invites viewers to “[eat] with themself,” according to the artist statement, and potentially examine their own biases about queerness and commodification in the process. 

Bird showcases maximalist art

If McGarry’s piece implicitly invites the viewer into weighty themes through color and pattern, Bird’s “FREDSCAPE” does so as explicitly as possible. The words “COME ON IN,” written across the floor in neon yellow tape, point towards the artwork, all overlaid with a grid constructed out of the same tape and neon pink paint. 

“FREDSCAPE,” which is also Bird’s thesis project, is a site-specific installation crafted from handmade paper, acrylic paint and found objects such as yarn, toy cars and a toy cash register. The recurring motif throughout the work is a floral pattern made through repurposed stencils from “a 1970s do-it-at-home kit marketed toward housewives,” according to the gallery statement. Bird “distorted [the stencils’] original usage and created a rich pattern filled with colors that nod to traditional stereotypes of gender in the United States,” his gallery statement elaborates.

“My whole thesis is talking a lot about maximalism, and using maximalist aesthetics and color and different things to portray my trans identity and my gender identity in a very visual, kind of chaotic culmination,” Bird said. 

The taped grid is another key element of the piece’s commentary on gender. “[The grid is] a lot to do with the conceptual themes of like, containment and … ways in which that fails and succeeds or affects my trans identity,” Bird said. These themes extend beyond “FREDSCAPE,” also present in his hand-cut stencil piece “play the fool” and “Fool 4 U/Be Mime,” a screen-printed adaptation of a frame from the short film he created with Brandwein. 

“This is really the culmination of my time in the art program,” Bird said. “It’s been really emotional, but also really great to see all the work kind of come to fruition and be my capstone and ending place in the art community at Mount Holyoke.” 

Brandwein discusses collections

Brandwein’s artwork on display included “Blueprint #1,” a cyan ink print made by manipulating bubble wrap and netting, and “The Jean Herald Collection,” a site-specific sculpture of archival boxes, the contents of which viewers could only view by appointment. According to the gallery statement, this requirement commented on “the multiple barriers to accessing art in an institutional setting.” 

Her centerpiece project, however, is “Apartment 1B:” a dollhouse modeled as three floors of a New York apartment building. Brandwein spent the year researching the history of dollhouses, particularly as they pertain to concepts of girlhood, home ownership and the American dream. Having grown up in Brooklyn apartments rather than houses, she had a different experience playing with her own dollhouse as a child. 

“My brother and I, we had this dollhouse where the attic space was accessible without opening up the [bottom floors],” Brandwein said. “We had two characters, a Pee-wee Herman action figure and a Harry Potter action figure, whose name was Zed and was devoid of any Harry Potter associations. But those two, they were roommates, and they lived in the attic apartment of this house, and the Fisher Price family that came with this dollhouse were the landlords.” She continued, “A lot of the narrative was, like, them skateboarding around, and then the family downstairs being mad at them. And then Pee-wee Herman working for the Old MacDonald farmer next door to, like, make his rent. … I don't think a kid in the suburbs would maybe imagine that kind of dynamic.” 

Brandwein explained that each resident of “Apartment 1B” is a collector — the top floor houses an art collector, the middle floor an egg cup collector and the bottom floor a snow globe collector. Their collections are on full display on every floor. 

Each floor also features found objects repurposed into furniture, wall hangings and other knick knacks. A metrocard, a stamp and a queen of hearts card hang from the walls of the art collector. A basket filled with the toothpick umbrellas usually reserved for beachy cocktails stands in the corner of the first floor apartment. The middle apartment’s floor is checkered with lettered tiles from the word game Bananagrams. 

To Brandwein, the spirit of Juice Box Party — the juice, the hats, the crayons and the energy and color of the art itself — is connected to the playful freedom so many of us are pressured to grow out of as we age. 

“I think all of our work thematically has to do with childhood,” she said. “The Blanchard Gallery is like this white cube, essentially. And like those spaces can feel really sterile and really static and kind of unwelcoming. And we were like, it doesn’t have to be like that. We’re gonna have a party, like we’re gonna make people wear party hats.”

“So often … to be a serious artist one thinks that you have to kind of take away that fun and humor, but that’s like really not the case,” Brandwein said. “Why can’t we keep having fun like that? Why can't we keep on just playing?”

Drag Ball returns to Mount Holyoke after two years

Photos by Tzav Harrel ’24.

Left: Mickey Pope ’23 and Steph Maldonado ’23 speak at Drag Ball. Right: a group of dancers perform onstage. FAMILIA, a support network for LGBTQ+ students of color, held Drag Ball on April 23.

By Siona Ahuja ’24

Arts & Entertainment Editor

Drag Ball made a comeback on April 23 after two years of hiatus due to COVID-19. Hosted by FAMILIA, Mount Holyoke’s support network for LGBTQ+ people of color, Drag Ball 2022 and its theme, “Gods and Goddesses,” celebrated the rich tradition of drag as a means to cultivate a “safe space for queer youth of color,” as described by the blog All Gay Long. Drag queen Sophya Medina, a New York-based makeup artist who won Miss Mundo Latina USA 2021, opened and closed the performances. Other performers included University of Massachusetts Amherst’s fusion dance group Dhadak, along with Mount Holyoke’s Jhumka, Holy Street and Rainbow Jelly.

‘Crossing Cultures’ exhibition, featuring Nilou Moochhala ’94, premieres at A.P.E. Arts Gallery

By Rose Cohen ’22 & Siona Ahuja ’24

Arts & Entertainment Editors

Photo by Nilou Moochhala '94

Suitcase from Nilou Moochhala ‘94’s, “My Very Own Suitcase Series,” which represents stages of the artist’s life. This artwork, along with the eight other suitcases in Moochhala’s series, was displayed at the A.P.E. Gallery in Northampton, Massachusetts from March 9 to April 1.

The sound of waves crashing set to projected clips of the ocean. A collection of white paper boats made by gallery visitors. Collages of vintage family photographs. These were some of the pieces on display at the “Crossing Cultures” exhibition at the A.P.E. Arts Gallery in Northampton from March 9 to April 1. 

The six visual artists whose work made up “Crossing Cultures” used five different regions to help define the themes of the exhibit. Throughout their pieces, lens-based artist Astrid Reischwitz, Peruvian Latinx Curator Claudia Ruiz Gustafson, Professor at Lesley University Vivian Poey, Iranian artist Shabnam Jannesari, Multidisciplinary Artist Nicolas Hyacinthe and Nymdesign Art Director Nilou Moochhala ’94 explored issues of identity, immigration and displacement through a variety of mediums, such as paintings, collages, photographs, videos and 3D installations. 

Displayed in the center of the gallery, a set of 10 multicolored suitcases, installed by Moochhala, seemed to tie these different parts of the exhibit together. Each piece of baggage included in Moochhala’s portion of the exhibition, titled “My Very Own Suitcase Series,” tells a different story about the various stages of the artist’s life. For instance, “Choddna (Leave)” highlights her departure from her hometown of Mumbai to study art at Mount Holyoke. Using colorful string and passport photos of her parents and siblings, Moochhala maps out the migratory journeys of members of her family. 

 “So it’s this sort of duality, right, that rises out of not belonging in any place,” Moochhala said, reflecting on the meaning of “Choddna (Leave).”

 “We were all foreigners to our own country,” she continued.

Graduating from Mount Holyoke as a studio art major with a concentration in economics, Moochhala went on to complete a special master’s program in graphic design at the Yale University School of Art. She credited the late Mount Holyoke Art History Professor Robert Herbert in “changing [her] pathway and allowing [her] to be creative.” 

Walking around her exhibit, a package full of labels for her artwork in hand, Moochhala pointed to certain family memorabilia featured in her work. Fragments of handwritten letters, an altar dedicated to colored pencils, glass vials and a sewing kit adorned the interiors of these mismatched pieces of luggage. “One actual common thread between all of us is family,” she said, referring to the artists featured in “Crossing Cultures.”

Moochhala chose to use suitcases to convey the idea of the “ugly” emotional baggage we carry around. “Well, the idea of crossing cultures and obviously leaving home, you go from one place to the other, and at the least that’s the one thing you bring with you,” she said, further explaining her decision to utilize suitcases. “It seemed to perfectly fit with the show.”

To Moochhala, suitcases alluded to the inevitable challenges faced by herself and other immigrants. “You are also a transcriber of your culture in another place. … How do you carry that [culture] forward into the next generation?” Moochhala said. 

Unlike the artwork of Hyacinthe and Reischwitz, Moochhala described her portion of the exhibition as more textural. 

“Each [suitcase] has to evoke a different sort of feeling and sensation, whether it’s floaty, whether it’s prickly, whether it’s inviting, whether it’s blocked,” Moochhala said. 

Standing beside her portion of the exhibition, which stood at the forefront of the gallery, Moochhala defined what art means to her. As Moochhala tried to put the mode of creativity into words, she explained that she thinks of artists as cultural storytellers. 

“Whether you’re a writer, an artist, musician, whatever creative discipline you’re in, you’re almost reflecting on what is going on currently, at this point in time, to everybody around you,” Moochhala said. “That’s a separate sort of way of seeing, right, it’s a separate perspective. So if you can get people to understand that and see it, then you’ve done your job.”