Nowadays sex is discussed openly on talk shows and in academia, but we still snicker when we hear the word boobs. “Profile of SuicideGirls.com” is a fun piece about confident girls who have fun with what they do. Carried throughout by sharp, upbeat music, the piece maintains a confidence and excitement about the subject matter, an online pin-up community for girls. As listeners, we almost expect discussion about women degrading themselves by being photographed pornographically, but the feature shows the Suicide girls handling the situation maturely and unapologetically. The best point in the feature is when the interviewer cautiously asks, as he looks at naked photos of the interviewee with her, if this is “awkward,” and she instantly replies, “No, I show these photos all the time!” At the end, an attempt is made to discuss “notions of beauty.” There’s no need for such direct commentary, especially when, in only profiling the girls, Missy Suicide is able to gleefully recount someone declaring that she “loves what you’re doing for small breasted women!”
On the whole, the piece basically presents itself and the girls as absolutely comfortable with the topic, so why shouldn’t you be?
Engaging with her subject, Hillary Frank recognizes the nameless quiet kids who always stuck close to lockers in crowded middle school hallways, shrunk into their seats when questioned in class, and sank onto cafeteria benches alone with paper bag lunches.
Instead of forcing a narrator into the piece or bombarding shy teenagers with questions, Frank places us back in high school through monologues, ambient sound, and, of course, silence. The unidentified voices of the teens, hushed and tentative, settle into the sound-scape, providing simultaneous sanctuary and discomfort in the position of the quiet kid. As listeners, we feel the appeal of the bubble when the noise of the hallway erupts, yet we sympathize with the confessions of fear of exiting the safety zone provided by this veil of silence.
In using collage, Frank doesn’t even try to provide answers regarding how to make quiet kids interact with other kids or how to fix their silence. Those questions aren’t even posed. The sensitive and astute format allows a more effective entrance into their bubble, creating a surprising understanding in the listener.
Comments by Kathleen Ross
Comment for "Profile of SuicideGirls.com" (deleted)
Kathleen Ross
Posted on April 11, 2005 at 10:14 AM
Review of Profile of SuicideGirls.com (deleted)
Nowadays sex is discussed openly on talk shows and in academia, but we still snicker when we hear the word boobs. “Profile of SuicideGirls.com” is a fun piece about confident girls who have fun with what they do. Carried throughout by sharp, upbeat music, the piece maintains a confidence and excitement about the subject matter, an online pin-up community for girls. As listeners, we almost expect discussion about women degrading themselves by being photographed pornographically, but the feature shows the Suicide girls handling the situation maturely and unapologetically. The best point in the feature is when the interviewer cautiously asks, as he looks at naked photos of the interviewee with her, if this is “awkward,” and she instantly replies, “No, I show these photos all the time!” At the end, an attempt is made to discuss “notions of beauty.” There’s no need for such direct commentary, especially when, in only profiling the girls, Missy Suicide is able to gleefully recount someone declaring that she “loves what you’re doing for small breasted women!”
On the whole, the piece basically presents itself and the girls as absolutely comfortable with the topic, so why shouldn’t you be?
Comment for "In a Bubble"
Kathleen Ross
Posted on April 11, 2005 at 09:26 AM | Permalink
Review of In a Bubble
Engaging with her subject, Hillary Frank recognizes the nameless quiet kids who always stuck close to lockers in crowded middle school hallways, shrunk into their seats when questioned in class, and sank onto cafeteria benches alone with paper bag lunches.
Instead of forcing a narrator into the piece or bombarding shy teenagers with questions, Frank places us back in high school through monologues, ambient sound, and, of course, silence. The unidentified voices of the teens, hushed and tentative, settle into the sound-scape, providing simultaneous sanctuary and discomfort in the position of the quiet kid. As listeners, we feel the appeal of the bubble when the noise of the hallway erupts, yet we sympathize with the confessions of fear of exiting the safety zone provided by this veil of silence.
In using collage, Frank doesn’t even try to provide answers regarding how to make quiet kids interact with other kids or how to fix their silence. Those questions aren’t even posed. The sensitive and astute format allows a more effective entrance into their bubble, creating a surprising understanding in the listener.