A millennial’s paradise

To the north of Interstate 80 in no-man’s land between the American River and an outcropping of newly developed apartment complexes, a tasteful brown arching structure known as The Barn sprouts from the soil of West Sacramento’s vast scenic landscape. Open for business as of Oct. 24 of last year, The Barn beer garden has increasingly become a hit in the greater Sacramento area, offering a variety of food, beer and entertainment all within a laid-back open enclosure. 

The Barn joins the Barrel House in San Leandro and the Dealership in Oakland as the San Leandro-based brewery Drake’s third specialized venue. Since its opening, Drake’s holds high expectations for the space, designating it on its website as “a landmark community gathering spot.”

!Melk, an award-winning urban design and landscape architecture practice hailing from New York, New York, was commissioned to design the area. !Melk is headed by founding principal Jerry Van Eyck, a well-known figure in landscape architecture who taught, lectured and critiqued at multiple academic institutions including Harvard’s Graduate School of Design and The Yale School of Architecture. !Melk’s website states they “always strive to offer our clients something fresh and unexpected. [They] like to push boundaries and seek out creative solutions.” The Barn directly speaks to this mantra.

Juxtaposed against the golden Tower Bridge, Sacramento’s garishly blinding beacon, The Barn stands out with its forward design, beckoning the occasional passerby on I-80 into taking a quick detour to investigate.

Kaylie Snyder, a Sacramento resident and employee at The Barn, commented on its elegant design. 

“I love the structure especially right underneath it, it has a very grand feeling,” Snyder said. 

Its wooden, bending double cantilever design is modern and eye-catching. It also feels unpretentious, allowing it to settle into Sacramento’s more traditional setting.

Furthermore, its attention to detail and modernity are a fresh new look, compared to a Sacramento skyline that resembles something a creatively-inept 10-year-old with a batch of stray Legos might construct. One of The Barn’s key structural elements is an expansive canopy that provides shade on the Central Valley’s hot summer days.

Snyder, remarking on the building’s versatile qualities, said “the structure wears many masks.”

The building’s canopy speaks to this flexibility, as it can be used for shading and as an entertainment venue, welcoming many musical and party festivities.

Snyder also commented on the variety of musical artists that frequent the setting.

“We have DJs [and] live music,” Snyder said. “Last weekend, we had the band Haze and we have another jazz band next weekend. Also, we have had this really beautiful folk band.” 

For obliging beer aficionados and foodies, The Barn offers over 25 beers on tap, rustic pizza and a Yolo County food truck filled with tri-tip and pork sandwiches.

The Barn can also accommodate up to 400 people, with plenty of quirky lawn chairs and tables scattered throughout the 178-acre mixed-use area. It is home to a vibrant crowd, with ages ranging from mid-20s to late 50s. And even though The Barn may be alcohol-centric, it’s still family friendly. It’s not uncommon to see tots tossing bean bags in an intense game of cornhole and an assortment of different breeds of dogs strewn about lapping up some summer sun.

Most patrons agree that The Barn has a “chill” atmosphere. It provides a more laid-back entertainment option to the Sacramento bar and concert scene, giving Sacramento residents a place to kick-back, relax and sip a beer without any hassle or pressure.

Emma Brown, an undergraduate at UC Berkeley who was at The Barn grabbing a beer with friends, commented on the intimacy of the setting.

“It’s very aesthetically pleasing and it’s spread out, but I can still hear everyone, which is kind of cool,” Brown said.

Sacramento resident Jesse Torres noted the easy commute to The Barn, which simplifies plans and adds a nice bike ride to his beer-savoring adventure.

“There is a bike path, so it’s super accessible for people using Jump Bikes and the Jump scooters, so it’s a pretty nice place to take your bike,” Torres said.

The stress-free commute along the tranquil riverbank is an added convenience for folks who end up enjoying the beer garden just a little too much. Not wanting to drive their cars with a couple beers in tow, they can choose to bike and then opt for an Uber or Lyft after their visit.

         The Barn is a certified design and entertainment hit, racking up six major design awards in addition to copious happy customers. With beer, food, music, dogs and great company, what else could you ask for? 

Written By: Andrew Williams — arts@theaggie.org

Do these CGI remakes go too far?

As an artist, I have always appreciated the craftsmanship and individual style that goes into the making of an animated film. Designing characters and building worlds in traditional animation requires a level of personality and individuality —  no cartoon looks exactly like another. It’s up to the creative team to design a world from scratch, drawing from their own style and perspective.

Hollywood’s most recent obsession, however, is recycling old animated films and recreating them as “live-action” blockbusters. Filmmakers are putting more money, more star power and much more computer-generated imagery (CGI) into these live-action reboots.

Disney is at the head of the trend and has been re-imagining many of their animated classics. These reboots, for the most part, are successful. Its 2015 reinvention of “Cinderella” was a commercial hit, and critics praised Emma Watson’s performance as Belle in the 2017 remake of “Beauty and the Beast.”

However, ambition got the better of some filmmakers as they attempted to push the boundaries of CGI. With the use of traditional art and animation, stories have no limits or ties to the laws of the real world. Magic can exist and animals can sing and dance, but when placed in a live-action setting or a photo-realistic world, there is less suspension of disbelief in some of the modern reboots.

For example, the release of “Aladdin” in 2019 was met with criticism due to the design and execution of the beloved character Genie. Although the original bright blue cartoon was lovable and enchanting, movie-goers were off put by the digitally enhanced blue skin on the otherwise untouched body of Will Smith.

Disney is not the only company to face backlash for the failures of CGI. Films such as “Men in Black: International” were criticized for relying too much on CGI technology in order to gloss over the blandness of the story. Meanwhile, fans bullied the “Sonic the Hedgehog” animators for the character’s oddly lifelike appearance, pressuring director Jeff Fowler to pull the film from its original release date in order to redesign Sonic completely.

The animation company Pixar refrains from photorealism due to these types of reactions, writes Jeff Yang for CNN. He cites this phenomenon as the “Uncanny Valley,” which he defines as “a level of semi-realistic human appearance in nonhuman things that triggers instinctive terror or visceral disgust.”

While it’s amazing what technological advancements in CGI and animation are able to accomplish, these types of films raise questions over the artistic necessity of modern advancements in films. Just because you can make an animated figure look more life-like than ever before does not mean you should.

The most recent debate about photorealism and CGI in films was sparked by the release of Disney’s reboot of the 1994 film “The Lion King.” In one of the most challenging feats of modern special effects, director Jon Favreau sought to make the entire film photorealistic. He employed aspects of live action, visual reality technology and animation to make a film about a lion pack in the Sahara Desert look as though it were shot in live-action.

“There’s so much confusion as to what the medium is,” Favreau said in an interview with the LA Times. “The trick here was to make it feel like an entirely new medium. Even though we use animation techniques, we wanted it to appear live-action. And that required a lot of technical and technological innovation.”

While the film was an impeccable piece of technological advancement, many people questioned the use of photorealistic CGI to replace this particular animated film. To go from highly stylized cartoon characters to realistic animal figures was a massive leap.

Fans of the first film worried that lions and other wild animals that actually looked like animals would not be capable of imbuing the same emotions and humor into the story compared to their cartoon counterparts in the original film.

The 1994 film received a score of 93%, according to Rotten Tomatoes; however, the remake received a score of only 53%. Knowing this, I went into the movie theater with relatively low expectations. Although I had not seen the original film in years, I remembered how much I loved it and the impact it left upon me.

I was not completely disappointed by the reboot. The soundtrack lead by Beyoncé and Donald Glover is unbeatable. Billy Eichner and Seth Rogan shine as meerkat Timon and warthog Pumbaa. The animals’ designs were just about as realistic looking as anyone could have ever dreamed. There was an absence of the mechanical feeling most CGI animals have: The lions move fluidly throughout the film, and oftentimes I would forget they were not actually real.

As impressive and well-executed as the photorealistic effects were, there are still some major drawbacks to this film style. Much of the magic within the story was lost behind the realism. For example, the shaman of the jungle, Rafiki, was always such a mystical and mysterious character — in the original film, he was the all-knowing guide that led Simba to his father’s ghost and, ultimately, to his destiny. In the reboot, Rafiki was rather unremarkable — instead of embodying a spiritual guide and prophet of the dead, Rafiki looked like a silly monkey in a tree.

Meanwhile, Eichner and Rogan’s stellar performances could have been boosted in a more emotive medium. I found myself wishing the animals could convey the emotions and attitudes of the voices behind them. For example, Pumba, the lovably unaware warthog, was cute as a cartoon, but warthogs in real life are much less charming, no matter who voices it.

Perhaps the most disturbing proof of CGI going too far is the upcoming movie “Cats,” based one of the longest running Broadway musicals of the same title, which features a score by Andrew Lloyd Webber and is based off of poems by T.S. Eliot. The movie’s announcement

should have been met with excitement, but was instead met with disgust. The film features a star-studded cast that have had CGI fur added to them, resulting in a strange mix of cat and human.

Overall, there are problems with Hollywood’s incessant need to insert impressive CGI technology into every project. So much of the artistry and individuality of animation is lost when the focus is on hyper-realism.

There is a certain merit to marketing aging stories to a modern audience. Although the new version of “The Lion King” was not my favorite, it did spark my memory of just what makes the story so great. I had forgotten how powerful both the message and the soundtrack are. While I’m sure Disney’s goal in these reboots is to profit from nostalgia, they are also introducing modern audiences to classic stories in a way that will engage and excite.

After all, the original “Lion King” has been speculated to be based off of biblical tales of Joseph and Moses, as well as inspired by aspects of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet.” In 1994, the first film used the latest technology to tell an age-old story in the same way that the 2019 movie does. Using stars like Beyoncé and pushing the boundaries of technology, the film draws in a modern audience and perpetuates the message and purpose of the story. While much is lost when the style and artistry of traditional animation is taken out of these films, it might be worth it if it keeps the stories alive.

Written by: Alyssa Ilsley — arts@theaggie.org

HBO miniseries sparks interest in history’s worst nuclear disaster

Three-and-a-half million people were physically affected by the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, were removed from their homes and suffered from radiation poisoning. The land directly surrounding the site of the nuclear reactor explosion is still radioactive to this day. Yet — aside from the mere mention in a history class — the details, significance and contention embedded within this disaster have long been overlooked. Don’t be so quick to blame a faulty American education system. Many of the stories from Chernobyl — or the accurate ones, at least —  have been suppressed by the Soviet media for decades.

Directed by Johan Renck, the HBO six-episode miniseries “Chernobyl,” released on May 6, has gifted us the narrative of this historical event. From moments before the disaster to the unfolding of the event and its aftermath, the story of Chernobyl is detailed and intimate. The human impact, amount of lives lost and affected and the grotesqueness of the death toll are all stressed. These aspects are particularly manifested within the real-life story of Lyudmilla Ignatenko (played by Jessie Buckley), who loses both her baby during childbirth and her husband who was on-site at the explosion.

Not only can viewers better grasp a qualitative historical understanding through stories like Ignatenko’s, but “Chernobyl” simultaneously terrifies the audience. The horror comes from the sweeping and relentless nature of radiation poisoning. Like a modern bubonic plague, no person, child or animal was safe from exposure. The makeup artists, indeed, do not shy away from disturbing representations of a body suffering from severe radiation exposure. 

Such honesty makes the viewer not only acknowledge that an event as horrific as this did happen, but also realize that it could happen again. “Chernobyl” serves as a reminder of the risks of moving towards modernity; the increased use of nuclear power poses serious threats if those holding its power do not tread lightly. And as we contemporarily battle with foreign nations over nuclear power, the audience might gain a new perspective concerning the possibly damning threats of such a power source within these unsteady relationships.

The more terrifying aspect of the show is the naivety of the public caused by governmental lies. Thus, a more significant and controversial aspect of the miniseries is ushered in: the critique of a government’s relation to the truth and its people. As protagonist and nuclear physicist Valery Lgasov (played byJared Harris) — with the help of Ulana Khomyuk (played by Emily Watson) — seek to uncover the truth of Chernobyl disaster, they discover it was the Soviet government’s cheap decision to use graphite in the reactors that caused the explosion.

If one considers the Cold War period of the disaster, a speedy development process might seem appealing. Afterall, according to one of the government officials, “our power comes from the perception of our power.” Therefore, the miniseries reveals the real-life disaster was the fault of institutional, communist carelessness.  

While this thematic conclusion of Chernobyl is historically accurate, the same cannot be said about other details. Most significantly, Khomyuk’s character was created to represent the multitude of scientists who assisted Lgasov. While it might be understandable to combine characters for the sake of time and money, it makes Lgasov’s character appear more like a martyr than a lead scientist who relied on the skills and knowledge of others. This might serve as a disservice to the forgotten scientists and taint the historical reliability of the miniseries. 

While I would not say “Chernobyl” as a whole isn’t to be trusted, learning that fact at the end did make me question the fine details of the show. Especially given modern tensions with Russia, I’m weary of all media content that creates a false narrative or “fake news” — somewhat ironically.

The overall message of the miniseries is nonetheless accurate: It is our responsibility to question our government. All people are capable of making horrific mistakes, all people are capable of running a test under faulty conditions. It is our responsibility, therefore, to create a government that is posed to morally and logically check us. Our own lives seem to depend on it both then and now.

Written by: Caroline Rutten — arts@theaggie.org 

The third season of Netflix series matures alongside its cast 

The third season of Netflix’s renowned series “Stranger Things” premiered on July 4 and was met with mostly positive reviews. Created by brothers Matt and Ross Duffer, the series follows a group of kids in the fictional midwest town of Hawkins, Indiana in the 1980s. The children discover an alternate dimension, which they deem the “Upside Down,” that brings alien creatures and darkness to their world. 

In the first season, the main cast averaged around the age of 12. The characters were delightfully innocent, playing Dungeons and Dragons for fun and being grossed out by girls. Season three, however, was filmed almost four years after the series’ premiere, and this season’s storylines mirrored the maturing cast. The show is more fast-paced and even more terrifying than what viewers are used to seeing.

“It’s a slicker, pacier operation than the slightly sprawling previous season, and far more fun,” Lucy Mangan wrote in The Guardian. “Perhaps the most obvious sign of the Duffers’ increased confidence in their talents and the cast is the fact that for the first time it is set in summer, denying itself the customary reliance on spooky greys and shadows to do the heavy lifting.”

This season as a whole was one of the strongest. The stakes have been raised, the monsters have grown and overall the quality has risen. The series, based so much on the nostalgia of youth and childhood, did a great job of growing with its young cast. 

“By the time the final credits roll on season 3, […], it’s made much more of a case for itself than season 2 ever did simply by trying to be something different,” Caroline Framke wrote in Variety.

Framke applauded the introduction of the Starcourt Mall, which is a new introduction to the town of Hawkins as well. The mall serves as a setting for numerous scenes throughout the season: The kids hang out there and search for apology gifts for their girlfriends while Russian scientists secretly develop new technologies in the tunnels underneath it. 

The addition of the mall along with the season’s new setting during the summertime results in an atmosphere different than the ones in previous seasons. The aesthetic is new, but still interesting and inviting. The bright colors and warm tones add a fascinating contrast to the horror going on in the characters’ lives.

While the entire cast has its merits, the series is carried by the talents of Millie Bobby Brown as Eleven and David Harbour as Chief of Police Jim Hopper. The adoptive father and daughter duo are by far the most interesting and dynamic characters. By now, the Duffer brothers are aware of this and have developed the season around the incomparable acting talents of the two. 

Brown, only 15 years old, carries the emotional development of the season. She creates both an admirable and strong female lead, while also being empathetic. Eleven, recently freed from an evil scientific laboratory, must now deal with the trials and tribulations of puberty, all with minimal social skills. Eleven’s relationship with Finn Wolfhard’s character Mike is adorable as ever, and even more delightfully awkward as they navigate their newfound romantic relationship. 

Similarly, the newly introduced friendship between Brown’s character and Sadie Sink’s character Max has also received praise. The two young female leads have finally joined forces in an awkward and fumbling teenage way. 

“Indeed Max and Eleven’s blossoming friendship, shopping trip and much boy talk included, is the series’ most joyous incidental development,” wrote Hugh Montgomery in BBC News. 

The two young actresses create an authentic and nuanced friendship in the limited screen time they get, a testament to the strength of their skills. 

Meanwhile, Harbour leads the adult cast and is the force that keeps the entire plot moving along. Playing the grumpy Hopper, Harbour imbues a lovable bitterness into the character that creates a complexity within all of his interactions on screen. His attempts at learning how to father a teenage girl and his intolerance of Eleven’s boyfriend Mike bring a lot of comedy to the show. 

Although the entire cast is strong, the main weakness of the series is just how expansive the cast is. Upon adding two new main characters last season, this latest season sees further additions. While all of the new characters are likeable and played by talented actors, the constant introduction of new faces takes away from the strong, original cast. 

The character Will Byers, played by Noah Schnapp, for example, should have been one of the main focuses of the season. He was possessed by the demonic monster in season two, and the repercussions of this, in addition to his tie to the Upside Down, is something that could have been explored much deeper than it was. Schnapp hardly got any screen time due to the countless other storylines that continued to add up. Will has always been an intriguing character who deserves more, rather than cast aside for new characters and their backstories. 

Hank Stuever in The Washington Post notes that despite the extra run-time of this season, there was not a lot of actual development for any of the characters. 

“[Character development], too, is an ongoing ‘Stranger Things’ struggle,” Stuever writes. “By now there are at least a half-dozen too many characters to care about and a monster whose motivations and methodology […] are difficult to fully comprehend.”

The fact that so many viewers tune in to watch what happens next for these characters, however, proves that what little character development does occur goes a long way. While the special effects are impressive and the show is visually pleasing to watch, the series’ popularity comes from viewers’ love of the characters. From Gaten Matarazzo’s comedically snarky Dustin to Winona Ryder’s passionate Joyce, every viewer has a character to root for. 

The last episode of the season left many loose ends that viewers are excited to see resolved in season four. Dynamics between the characters and aspects of the supernatural plot will change, and hopefully the series will be able to focus even more on the aspects that make it so great. 

Written by: Alyssa Ilsley — arts@theaggie.org 

Creative energy unleashed

Understanding design in a holistic sense requires both visual comprehension and knowledge of the behind-the-scenes design process. When acknowledging design in a gallery, in our buildings or even in household appliances, it’s easy to see a finished product and lose sight of the integral struggle that a designer goes through on an everyday basis. The eight-episode series “Abstract: the Art of Design,” however, which launched on Netflix in February of 2017, reveals the behind-the-scenes element experienced by some of the world’s greatest designers. 

The production and intent of the series can be likened to a design-oriented version of the well-known “Chef’s Table.” It walks the audience through the designer’s mental process and opens a window into their artistic personality and mantra. Creator Scott Dadich sets the tone for the series with the first line of the show: “I’m trying to figure out the big picture things. How, aesthetically, to tell your story and, before that, what your story is.” 

From set makers to shoe designers, the series pieces together snippets from some of the world’s most established design virtuosos. The most distinguished guests include Tinker Hatfield, Nike’s sneaker visionary; Bjarke Ingels, a daring and world-renowned Danish architect and Ralph Gilles, the former head designer for Chrysler Motors. Although I enjoyed all eight episodes, I selected three to highlight that I found to be particularly insightful and enjoyable.

The first episode of the series features Christoph Niemann, an enigmatic and quirky illustrator known for illustrating over 20 magazine cover pages for the New Yorker. The director gives Niemann free reign over how the episode unfolds, allowing him to dictate the story as well as the episode’s layout and visual direction. 

Niemann’s signature drawing skills are on full display. The episode continually toggles between Niemann’s physical world in New York and his abstract cartoon illustrations. At times, when artists or designers describe their process, listeners can get lost in esoteric, seemingly nonsensical language, but Niemann’s illustrations work to bridge that gap. The dynamic animations guide the audience through Niemann’s dialogue, giving the audience a better glimpse of what he means when he says, “The idea of abstraction is about getting rid of everything that is not essential to making a point.”

The overarching tone of the episode is best described as intimate, but not in the sense that the audience learns about the intricacies of Niemann’s personal life. It mixes a common interview format with Niemann’s zany artistic world, inviting the audience to become acquainted with his process and creative tone. By the end of the episode, the audience understands both Niemann’s design motto and the personality and outlook that informs it.

Also noteworthy is this episode’s soundtrack. The songs blend seamlessly with the episode’s character, as is the case with one song in particular, “Lick Your Wounds,” by Andy Schauf. The song’s melancholic clarinet and cooing vocals complement the production’s introspective tone. Niemann is a self-proclaimed control freak and this shows in the details. The song choice is one of many other perfectly crafted choices that beckon the audience into immersion.

The series’ next guest, Tinker Hatfield, takes a completely different approach to his creative process. His own personality and perspective are expertly worked into the episode and, much like Niemann, he gives the production an entirely new spin. Rather than focusing on the emotions behind and aesthetic quality of his work, he directs his attention to problem solving as the main intent of design. 

“As a designer, it is not the ultimate goal to become self-expressive,” Hatfield says, contrasting Niemann’s emotional drive. “The end goal is to solve a problem for someone else.” 

Hatfield runs through the application and performance that underpins the design process of his work. As Hatfield describes his latest project on electric adaptable reaction lacing — E.A.R.L for short — which is meant to facilitate an athlete’s blood flow, it becomes clear that performance is the focal point every step of the way.  

Background and storytelling are central in the episode. Hatfield and Dadich lead the audience through the progression of Hatfield’s life as a former athlete and mentee of Nike co-founder Bill Bowerman. He outlines the unplanned and unpredictable nature of his career, learning to draw as an architect at the University of Oregon, while helping Bowerman flesh out shoe designs as an injury-plagued pole vaulter. Hatfield emphasizes how his personal experience as an athlete who underwent trauma informs how he designs exclusively with athletes’ needs in mind.

 In addition to Hatfield’s comments and demonstrations, the team is able to pull together interviews about the experiences of different sports celebrities, like Michael Jordan, who have worked with him. This particular portion of the episode is especially compelling, as the audience begins to understand the collaborative qualities that make Hatfield a maestro at his craft. Within the span of 50 minutes, Hatfield and the production team succinctly and engagingly detail his ascension to designated sneaker design legend. 

The final episode that I found to be fascinating follows the rise of Danish architect Bjarke Ingels, who is also the leader of the architecture firm BIG. Asked what he wanted to make of his episode, he said, “it should be the documentary version of ‘Inception.’”

Elaborating on this thought, Ingels said BIG, like “Inception,” is making the seemingly impossible possible and is, in essence, making his dream world a reality. 

This bold declaration sets the stage for outlining Ingels’ rise to stardom as one of the youngest and most sought-after architects in the world. The episode frames Ingels’ early beginnings as an illustrator turned big-eyed architecture student turned design trailblazer.

Ingels’ seemingly obsessive and headstrong personality is complemented by descriptions and images of his groundbreaking and controversial buildings — one of the most astonishing projects is the Copenhagen Amager Bakke Waste-to-Energy Plant, an energy plant and ski-slope all wrapped into one. On top of that, in typical Ingels fashion, BIG implemented a massive smoke ring tower on the roof that puffs pollution-free smoke rings above the city’s skyline.

 Regardless of interest in architecture, the audience can’t help but feel excited at the end of this episode. Ingels’ optimism for possibility is contagious, and the production team harnesses that energy and packages it into an episode that is both educational as well as enthralling.

When describing the processes of design and the world it shapes, “Abstract: The Art of Design” is a perfect starting point. Combining relevant and applicable knowledge with insightful, compelling content, the show is a must-watch for any aspiring designer or artistically-inquisitive mind.

Written By: Andrew Williams — arts@theaggie.org