At the Northeastern College of Arts, Media, and Design “interactions” event, professors spoke about their projects, past and present. While I am not a visual artist myself, I appreciated the brilliance of many of the professors’ works.
The presentation that struck me the most – likely because it was on a subject I know some of already – was that of Walter Robinson, a professor of journalism at Northeastern. Robinson works with students in a small, high-level investigative journalism class. As Robinson presented, I was struck by the great depth and scope of the work Robinson’s students are doing.
While many professors spoke about work they personally were doing (this was perfectly acceptable at such an event, especially within the visual studies), Robinson was sure to mention that it was his students doing the reporting for stories that were landing on the front page of The Boston Globe and prompting policy reform.
I got into journalism with the hope that I could show people aspects of the world they don’t see, either by choice or because they are being obscured, so that they can make more informed decisions. Ultimately, I want to change the world. I realize that I probably won’t break the next Watergate or expose war crimes (that won’t keep me from trying), but I realized in watching Robinson’s presentation that I could make some serious progress towards these goals before graduation.
College, my father always told me, is a place where the whole world opens up and things that before seemed distant come within reach. Obnoxiously corny sentences aside, I felt like that was the case today while I looked at the projected images of Boston Globe front pages on the wall behind Professor Robinson.
Finding cheap eats – or cheap anything, for that matter – in Boston is no easy task. Four-dollar coffees and fifteen-dollar movies don’t make Beantown easy on the wallet, but Moby Dick House of Kabobs at 269 Huntington Ave. is the perfect place to get a good meal for a good price.
The walls are lined with collages of foreign currency, adding to the international feel.
Once they work their way through the frustratingly awkward set of front doors (handicap accessible, despite the hassle), diners find themselves in a simple, comfortable space. At the back of the seating area is a counter, and on it a menu with refreshingly small numbers; dishes range from $5.95 to $22.95 (swordfish isn’t cheap).
Anything from simple rice or garden salad to Gheimeh Bademjan – which I might order if I had the slightest clue how to pronounce – can be cooked up to order in around 10 minutes.
I kept it simple (and cheap) and got the lamb kabob sandwich (tender pieces of lamb marinated in saffron and our homemade spices wrapped in pita with hummus, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and house dressing) and a root beer. For $10.70 (cash only – they don’t take cards), I had a refreshingly tasty meal. I advise against any sandwiches there if you happen to be dining and a nice suit as the house dressing can end up shooting out of the pita wrap in just about any direction. But my T-shirt took the blow and I enjoyed my sandwich too much to worry about it.
269 Huntington Ave.
Boston, Ma 02115
- Monday – Wednesday: 11:00 am – 10:30 pm
- Thursday – Saturday: 11:00 am – 12:00 am
- Sunday: 11:00 am – 9:30 pm
Buy-o-chromatic by Amanda Nelsen. Part of the "What is Contained" exhibit at Gallery 360
As a class assignment today, I live-tweeted a gallery opening at Northeastern’s Gallery 360 called “What is Contained,” which has a theme of books and literature.
While I’ve live-tweeted many events, they have almost always been speech-based. Either a panel conversation, a presentation, or a speech. In this case, while the root of the exhibit was very much in words – without words, there would be no books – the interesting aspect was in the visual aspect.
With every tweet, I included a picture. This helped me to not only show the art to my followers, but also to convey the meaning of the art; in one case, I tweeted a picture of the sign at the opening, explaining the exhibit.
This very visual presentation illustrated to me a very new side of live-tweeting. I have always live-tweeted events with a very distinct timeline, the news being that I was relaying information that would only be available once. In this case, though, I was relaying information (in this case, art) that would be available for a while (the exhibit will stay open for a few weeks), but was just newly available. My tweets, I hope, generated interest for the gallery and made people aware of it. This was a different but equally useful form of live-tweeting in comparison to what I’m used to.