Bombs & Blues

If you've ever been to Nick's English Hut, Nate Jackson's piercing blue eyes, intimidating gaze and stocky build certainly linger in your memory hours after he checks your ID and lets you into the bar. Even if you're not of age, maybe you've seen his round, smiling face, three-inch goatee and shaved head walking through campus or riding along 10th Street on his Intruder motorcycle. \nBut Jackson is much more than a bouncer at Nick's, or a 22-year-old undergraduate. He's a guitarist, a songwriter and most relevantly, he was the manager of Mike's Place, the blues bar that suffered a suicide bombing Tuesday night in Tel Aviv, Israel, killing three and injuring more than 50 others. The bar was popular with both tourists and locals, in a high profile location with the U.S. Embassy as its neighbor.\nThe 1 a.m. suicide bombing occurred after Mahmoud Abbas was sworn in as the new Palestinian Prime Minister, who promises to crack down on violence. It was claimed as a joint operation by al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, an armed offshoot of Yassir Arafat's Fatah movement, and the Islamic group Hamas. The bomber was British, 21-year-old Asif Mohammed Hanif, the first European suicide bomber of the Palestinian uprising.\nJackson received a phone call just minutes after the bombing. And minutes after learning he had lost three of his best friends, he had to perform on stage for Z100's Live Musical Performance class.\n"The soul of my music comes from Israel," Jackson said. "It's probably the best performance I had ever given because it was true blue."\nJackson moved back to America to study at IU in January 2002. He first studied in Israel during his senior year of high school. After graduating in 1997, he moved back to Israel and joined the army (required for new immigrants), serving as a combat paratrooper for a year and eight months. Originally he intended to study at a rabbinical school, but he learned that wasn't the lifestyle for him. Because he hung out at Mike's Place in Jerusalem during his senior year abroad, he jumped at the chance to help open a Tel Aviv location after he left the army. \nJackson said he was so involved in the construction process that his blood is in the floorboards.\n"There's no war at Mike's Place. You can see a college student talking to a rabbi sipping beer with a foreign correspondent questioning a Palestinian, and you close your eyes and then open them and ask 'Is this real?'" he said. "Mike's Place had that soulful Jerusalem vibe. It turned into the place to go to and hang out, smoke hookah, go to the beach. What's better than sipping Guinness on the Mediterranean coast? You can't beat it."\nThe bar was not only a place to go and indulge in a beer or a good conversation, but for Jackson, Mike's Place became his family. While manager, he hired bartender and French native Domonique Caroline Hess, one of the three killed Tuesday. \nFor someone who had just lost his best friend, Jackson is surprisingly calm and composed. He speaks as though he's had 24 years to come to terms with his loss, not 24 hours.\n"She was beautiful, compassionate ... She had an invaluable street wisdom to her, always walked with a bounce," Jackson said, his sad eyes hidden by wraparound sunglasses. "We knew her a year, during which time we fired five cooks, and one day she just came into the kitchen and started throwing stuff together. My jaw dropped, I was like 'Did you forget to tell us you went to culinary arts school in France? We needed you!' She was so humble and reserved." \nJackson said Hess' death is a tragedy. "From what I know her arm was blown off. She must have died from loss of blood," he said.\nLiving in Israel for five years gave Jackson a thick skin, "like leather." In 1999 he saw a suicide bombing right before his eyes, which he said proved to him you can't stop going to work, you just need to take another route.\n"Violence creates more violence, hatred creates more hatred, vengeance causes more vengeance," Jackson said. "There's a human instinct of protection and a human instinct for compassion and love. You have to integrate this idea of compassion into your sadness, into this emotional disparity and mourning. But you can't let it take over your life."\nSenior Rachel Zukrow said she identifies with this desensitized mind-set. In the spring of 2002, Zukrow studied abroad in Tel Aviv, a semester during which she frequented Mike's Place often. She spoke with one of her study abroad friends Tuesday night and said they both agreed it was very strange knowing they had sat in the exact place a suicide bombing occurred. \nShe said it hits especially close to home.\n"The government obviously has money and resources set up so basically two days later they can begin construction, because they want everything to go back to normal as soon as possible," Zukrow said. "After the passover bombing, I walked by it the next day and it was terrible, but within three weeks it was all back to normal, you couldn't tell. But being in Israel, especially being young, you can never get away with the situation you're living in. There's always a reminder; even though a cafe or club may look same, you know (the bombing) happened and affected everyone." \nWhen the bomb went off, Mike's Place patrons were enjoying the weekly Jam Night, a tradition that Jackson himself started. He remembers this and shakes his head, pointing out had he been living in Israel, he would most certainly have been there.\n"I wish I was there -- these people were my family," he said, comparing his yearning to be back in Israel to an American abroad during Sept. 11. But he said there's no point in rushing back tomorrow, as in a few days life will return to normal for Israelis and Mike's Place.\n"There's almost a certain beauty to know that there was a suicide bombing and then two or three hours later people are still walking by, bums are still bumming money," Jackson said. "They stay strong and life goes on."\nThe progressive attitude Jackson attributes to Israelis, he embodies himself. Jackson's roommate Jason Carlson, an IU staff member in the School of Education, said he has a worldly perspective you seldom see in someone his age.\n"I do get to see a side of him most people don't get to," Carlson said. "He's kind-hearted. There's a certain code of ethics and morals that he follows that are admirable. And he has a loyalty to his friends that seems intuitive."\nCarlson added that because of his passionate, open-minded nature, Jackson is someone who is very interesting to talk to.\n"Serving in the armed forces and the things he's probably seen during his time in service are alone enough to make one grasp what reality is," Carlson said. "Nate has made seeing those things help put things in perspective; it gives life more realistic meaning and that's how one in his position handles something like this."\nJackson's friends evidently return his loyalty. The interview is interrupted by his cell phone ring; on the other line is Darren from Los Angeles, someone Jackson met in Israel who he hasn't spoken to in more than a year. He is grateful for the sympathy, thanking his friend numerous times, yet remaining composed: "Yeah, I lost three friends. It's terrible, but you know, keep on truckin'."\nJackson's strength is motivated by not only his friends, but also strangers who have expressed their condolences. Jackson was near a computer when he heard about the bombing and immediately went to the Mike's Place Web site (www.mikesplacebar.com) and posted a message asking for anyone to respond with new developments. Thirty minutes later, Jackson checked the Web site to find more than 50 messages posted from all over the world.\n"There are a lot of cool cats in this world, we just need to take off these rims," he said while removing his sunglasses to demonstrate. "You just have to look around a little."

The color scheme changes, but the flowers have remained the same throughout the past several years. This summer's colors include ranges of crimson and cream tones to match IU's recent change of school colors. Because of arrangements like these, IU was placed in the top five of a list of 100 universities rated on landscape beauty in 1991.

Delfeayo Marsalis, brother of Wynton and Branford, has been playing the trombone since the age of 12 and with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band for the past six years.

Deflated after a long day exploring New Orleans, Aaron and Jarrett let their tired (and sick) selves rest in Jackson Square in the French Quarter. In the background is St. Louis Cathedral, built in 1794, making it the oldest active cathedral in America.

Luke and Dave hang out in a New Orleans city park. Earlier in Memphis, the two had a strange run-in with a woman who said she visited hell.

Bloomington radio stations maintain local personality amidst shrinking market

Ryan Bruce says he knows people will never believe him, but he really does spend more than 100 hours a week working as the station manager of WFHB (91.3 FM). Watch him adjust the ballcap that hides his unwashed hair or see him rub his eyes that are red from a long work week, and it's not so hard to believe. \n"I've been here for the past four days," Bruce says of the demanding work schedule in preparation for the annual Spring Fund Drive, which happened last week. Bruce, an IU graduate, is one of two paid employees at the station -- the other 100 DJs are all volunteers. \n"The type of people that this idea draws in is such a cool group of people," he says. "They're not getting paid so they've got to love what they do."\nFour blocks north at Bloomington's other independent radio station, WTTS (92.3 FM), employees are also loving what they do. Program manager Brad Holtz says America is saturated with more than 12,000 corporately-owned radio stations, but only a light sprinkling (fewer than 100) of independently-owned stations sweeten the airwaves. \n"Radio is most intimate media out there," Holtz says. "But independent radio as a genre is miniscule and extremely unique. (WTTS) doesn't have to worry about consolidation. We have comfort that we'll remain an independent station that serves the community."\nFor Bloomington to have two independent radio stations is certainly rare, as today's radio is littered with generic programming. Clear Channel Entertainment dominates the industry and owns more than 1,200 stations coast to coast (www.clearchannel.com). This tremendous growth began when the Telecommunication Act of 1996 increased the number of stations one entity could own in a single market. According to a Feb. 20 New York Times article by Brad Staples ("The trouble with corporate radio: the day the protest music died"), before the Act "the top two owners had 115 stations between them. Today, the top two own more than 1,400 stations. In many major markets, a few corporations control 80 percent of the listenership or more."\nIn an industry that suffers from corporate mergers and predictable playlists, both WTTS and WFHB continue to thrive and provide Bloomington's ears with original community programming. \n"The state of radio will never be a reason to give up. We should never think we don't have a place," Bruce says. "We might be marginalized by the big guys, but we as a community radio system have a strong infrastructure. I believe media for the people and by the people, a theory that's as retro as you get dating from the basic ideals in the documents that form this country. Radio is taking the essence of free speech and testing its limits."\nWFHB and WTTS have the luxury to say and play what they want, as there's no corporate office from which to ask permission. Both stations follow the AAA format, an acronym meaning Adult Album Alternative. WFHB is not playlisted, so each of their DJs are free to dictate their programming, which spans a wide spectrum of sound. Sunday morning it's "reggae children," Saturday morning is "roots for breakfast" and Wednesday evening is "all that jazz." WTTS is playlisted, as it's a substantially bigger station, and sculpts its personality with a playlist that includes 600-800 songs at any given time. Artists on their playlist range from Bob Dylan to Beck, from the Dave Matthews Band to The Rolling Stones, from Bonnie Raitt to Dar Williams.\n"Independent radio stations that once would have played edgy, political music have been gobbled up by corporations that control hundreds of stations and have no wish to rock the boat," writes Staples. "Corporate ownership has changed what gets played and who plays it. With a few exceptions, the disc jockeys who once existed to discover provocative new music have long since been put out to pasture."\nHoltz says this conformist radio culture is disheartening. Before working at WTTS, he worked at a corporately-owned station in Indianapolis. Seeing both sides of the industry has led him to believe the attitude and personality of a station is dependent on its ownership.\n"My problem with mainstream radio is it's too afraid to swim out to the middle of the pool," he says, "It's just hovering in the shallow end; It needs to swim deeper in. It's too safe and too conservative, and unwilling to take a chance on new artists." \nWTTS' Cagematch feature allows the station to experiment with new music weeknights at 7:45 p.m. The program not only garners feedback from listeners, but also lets the station springboard lesser known artists to the airwaves. They also use the Time Capsule (weekly at noon) to revisit the music of a certain year, in which WTTS plays music that's probably been off their playlist for years. Midday show DJ Laura Duncan helped develop the Time Capsule feature when she began working at the station last year. \n"It's about having a party of friends over to listen to music and turn them on to your favorite new music," Duncan says. "The style and information is mine. I'm free to do what I want…It's a rush when someone calls and says they love a song."\nBruce says encouraging DJs to dictate their own format is integral to keeping independent radio alive.\n"Without being too harsh or negative, the state of radio is disconcerting," Bruce says, pausing to justify his criticism. "Disconcerting because the number of voices on radio are decreasing. The freedom of speech is being restricted; it is just a business practice that allows money to reign."\nThough indie radio station employees may be adamently opposed to corporate growth, those who work at a Clear Channel owned station feel entirely differently. Program director for Indianapolis' WRZX (103.3 FM) Edsel Ferrari has worked in radio since college and disagrees with Bruce's opinion that free speech is decreasing.\n"Maybe in some industry's, but not radio," Ferrari says. "Our foundation is based on creativity and freedom of expression. Have you listened to our DJ's lately? I don't think 'stifled' describes them at all. Insane, perhaps; stifled, no." \nFerrari admits radio has changed, but not necessarily in a negative way.\n"(Corporate growth) has made us all more accountable and responsible for our actions," Ferrari says. "Sex, drugs and rock and roll is over."\nAlong with this heightened responsibility comes more structured programming. Many corporately owned stations have begun using a controversial process called voice tracking, which involves the insertion of pre-recorded announcements between music and commercials, to simulate a live, personal radio broadcast.\n"People are blowing it way out of proportion. Some people think voice tracking is some kind of robo-tech DJ, when in reality it's still the human voice, the human spirit, the creativity, the spontanaiety, everything that makes radio better than TV," Ferrari says. "The opponents of it are scared because it forces people to be better than their competition. Not too many people will agree with me, but voice tracking has made our industry work harder to be better."\nAs more media moguls are forming within the radio industry, Holtz says the creativity that once colonized the airwaves has been overruled by the demands corporate ownership places upon employees. Corporate stations require program directors to multi-task and coordinate three stations, which Holtz says makes them lose their focus and dedication to creating original, specialized programming. \nConsequently, even though owning several stations in a listening radius might demand more original programming, the responsibility of programming three stations results in an adverse affect. Bruce says because radio potentially reaches so many people, it's essential to provide those ears with original sounding music, but because of the shift toward corporate ownership, much original music never reaches the airwaves.\n"Corporate radio is killing music. It is essentially limiting what you hear to any of those people who can sell a million albums committed to airwaves, point blank," Bruce says. Although he feels some hostility toward the commercial wave of radio, he also believes the trend is helping their audience grow.\n"Corporate radio, thank you, because you continue to alienate more and more people who want to hear what we do. They've polarized it so badly it's given us more freedom to pick up small artists," Bruce says. "They're doing us a great service. We could even format our station to be a little more predictable and still be light years away from what they do. It helps our audience grow."\nBut Holtz doesn't subscribe to Bruce's school of thought: That the growth of indie stations is caused by the polarization of corporate stations. He says the rapidly fading freedom of radio is just another phase of this old media form.\n"Radio has always been on the verge of death, for the past 50 years, but it's as vibrant as it's ever been," Holtz says. "It's not the golden age, but it reaches more people every week than anything else. Its reach is unprecedented"

Bloomington radio stations maintain local personality amidst shrinking market

Ryan Bruce says he knows people will never believe him, but he really does spend more than 100 hours a week working as the station manager of WFHB (91.3 FM). Watch him adjust the ballcap that hides his unwashed hair or see him rub his eyes that are red from a long work week, and it's not so hard to believe. \n"I've been here for the past four days," Bruce says of the demanding work schedule in preparation for the annual Spring Fund Drive, which happened last week. Bruce, an IU graduate, is one of two paid employees at the station -- the other 100 DJs are all volunteers. \n"The type of people that this idea draws in is such a cool group of people," he says. "They're not getting paid so they've got to love what they do."\nFour blocks north at Bloomington's other independent radio station, WTTS (92.3 FM), employees are also loving what they do. Program manager Brad Holtz says America is saturated with more than 12,000 corporately-owned radio stations, but only a light sprinkling (fewer than 100) of independently-owned stations sweeten the airwaves. \n"Radio is most intimate media out there," Holtz says. "But independent radio as a genre is miniscule and extremely unique. (WTTS) doesn't have to worry about consolidation. We have comfort that we'll remain an independent station that serves the community."\nFor Bloomington to have two independent radio stations is certainly rare, as today's radio is littered with generic programming. Clear Channel Entertainment dominates the industry and owns more than 1,200 stations coast to coast (www.clearchannel.com). This tremendous growth began when the Telecommunication Act of 1996 increased the number of stations one entity could own in a single market. According to a Feb. 20 New York Times article by Brad Staples ("The trouble with corporate radio: the day the protest music died"), before the Act "the top two owners had 115 stations between them. Today, the top two own more than 1,400 stations. In many major markets, a few corporations control 80 percent of the listenership or more."\nIn an industry that suffers from corporate mergers and predictable playlists, both WTTS and WFHB continue to thrive and provide Bloomington's ears with original community programming. \n"The state of radio will never be a reason to give up. We should never think we don't have a place," Bruce says. "We might be marginalized by the big guys, but we as a community radio system have a strong infrastructure. I believe media for the people and by the people, a theory that's as retro as you get dating from the basic ideals in the documents that form this country. Radio is taking the essence of free speech and testing its limits."\nWFHB and WTTS have the luxury to say and play what they want, as there's no corporate office from which to ask permission. Both stations follow the AAA format, an acronym meaning Adult Album Alternative. WFHB is not playlisted, so each of their DJs are free to dictate their programming, which spans a wide spectrum of sound. Sunday morning it's "reggae children," Saturday morning is "roots for breakfast" and Wednesday evening is "all that jazz." WTTS is playlisted, as it's a substantially bigger station, and sculpts its personality with a playlist that includes 600-800 songs at any given time. Artists on their playlist range from Bob Dylan to Beck, from the Dave Matthews Band to The Rolling Stones, from Bonnie Raitt to Dar Williams.\n"Independent radio stations that once would have played edgy, political music have been gobbled up by corporations that control hundreds of stations and have no wish to rock the boat," writes Staples. "Corporate ownership has changed what gets played and who plays it. With a few exceptions, the disc jockeys who once existed to discover provocative new music have long since been put out to pasture."\nHoltz says this conformist radio culture is disheartening. Before working at WTTS, he worked at a corporately-owned station in Indianapolis. Seeing both sides of the industry has led him to believe the attitude and personality of a station is dependent on its ownership.\n"My problem with mainstream radio is it's too afraid to swim out to the middle of the pool," he says, "It's just hovering in the shallow end; It needs to swim deeper in. It's too safe and too conservative, and unwilling to take a chance on new artists." \nWTTS' Cagematch feature allows the station to experiment with new music weeknights at 7:45 p.m. The program not only garners feedback from listeners, but also lets the station springboard lesser known artists to the airwaves. They also use the Time Capsule (weekly at noon) to revisit the music of a certain year, in which WTTS plays music that's probably been off their playlist for years. Midday show DJ Laura Duncan helped develop the Time Capsule feature when she began working at the station last year. \n"It's about having a party of friends over to listen to music and turn them on to your favorite new music," Duncan says. "The style and information is mine. I'm free to do what I want…It's a rush when someone calls and says they love a song."\nBruce says encouraging DJs to dictate their own format is integral to keeping independent radio alive.\n"Without being too harsh or negative, the state of radio is disconcerting," Bruce says, pausing to justify his criticism. "Disconcerting because the number of voices on radio are decreasing. The freedom of speech is being restricted; it is just a business practice that allows money to reign."\nThough indie radio station employees may be adamently opposed to corporate growth, those who work at a Clear Channel owned station feel entirely differently. Program director for Indianapolis' WRZX (103.3 FM) Edsel Ferrari has worked in radio since college and disagrees with Bruce's opinion that free speech is decreasing.\n"Maybe in some industry's, but not radio," Ferrari says. "Our foundation is based on creativity and freedom of expression. Have you listened to our DJ's lately? I don't think 'stifled' describes them at all. Insane, perhaps; stifled, no." \nFerrari admits radio has changed, but not necessarily in a negative way.\n"(Corporate growth) has made us all more accountable and responsible for our actions," Ferrari says. "Sex, drugs and rock and roll is over."\nAlong with this heightened responsibility comes more structured programming. Many corporately owned stations have begun using a controversial process called voice tracking, which involves the insertion of pre-recorded announcements between music and commercials, to simulate a live, personal radio broadcast.\n"People are blowing it way out of proportion. Some people think voice tracking is some kind of robo-tech DJ, when in reality it's still the human voice, the human spirit, the creativity, the spontanaiety, everything that makes radio better than TV," Ferrari says. "The opponents of it are scared because it forces people to be better than their competition. Not too many people will agree with me, but voice tracking has made our industry work harder to be better."\nAs more media moguls are forming within the radio industry, Holtz says the creativity that once colonized the airwaves has been overruled by the demands corporate ownership places upon employees. Corporate stations require program directors to multi-task and coordinate three stations, which Holtz says makes them lose their focus and dedication to creating original, specialized programming. \nConsequently, even though owning several stations in a listening radius might demand more original programming, the responsibility of programming three stations results in an adverse affect. Bruce says because radio potentially reaches so many people, it's essential to provide those ears with original sounding music, but because of the shift toward corporate ownership, much original music never reaches the airwaves.\n"Corporate radio is killing music. It is essentially limiting what you hear to any of those people who can sell a million albums committed to airwaves, point blank," Bruce says. Although he feels some hostility toward the commercial wave of radio, he also believes the trend is helping their audience grow.\n"Corporate radio, thank you, because you continue to alienate more and more people who want to hear what we do. They've polarized it so badly it's given us more freedom to pick up small artists," Bruce says. "They're doing us a great service. We could even format our station to be a little more predictable and still be light years away from what they do. It helps our audience grow."\nBut Holtz doesn't subscribe to Bruce's school of thought: That the growth of indie stations is caused by the polarization of corporate stations. He says the rapidly fading freedom of radio is just another phase of this old media form.\n"Radio has always been on the verge of death, for the past 50 years, but it's as vibrant as it's ever been," Holtz says. "It's not the golden age, but it reaches more people every week than anything else. Its reach is unprecedented"

Amy hands Dave his camera so he can photograph the historic Lorraine Motel at Memphis' National Civil Rights Museum. Behind them is a memorial to Martin Luther King Jr., along with several 1968 cars for authenticity. Even MLK's hotel room has been preserved to look like it did the day he was shot.

Luke videotapes Jamie as the group relaxes during an evening with a game of Catch Phrase, which is a cross between Hot Potato and Taboo.

Jarrett, Toby and Luke have known each other since freshman year. Last fall, the three decided to start a band together.

Digging for locally grow music

When I have free time and a fresh paycheck, my favorite indulgence is a trip to the record store. Every time I pass through the entrance to Tracks or Borders, my mind begins to churn out the mental list of approximately 246 CDs I want to get next. But sometimes I'm tempted to forget what friends have recommended to me, or what I just read in Rolling Stone. Sometimes I'm in the mood to buy a CD by a local Bloomington musician of whom I've never even heard a soundbite, just because it's fun to expand my collection.\nThis Weekend is dedicated to exploring the music within 2003's Live From Bloomington compilation. Whether this CD is fantastic or disappointing is not relevant. What's important is to acknowledge that listening to any town's local music offers an incredible opportunity to hear the texture and flavor of local culture. A musician is certainly influenced by their surroundings; likewise, surroundings can be sculpted by its music. \nThink of the torrential downpour of great music in the '60s and '70s. Walk around campus with your headphones blaring the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Bob Marley's Catch a Fire or Joni Mitchell's Blue and it's impossible to prevent your thoughts from wandering back in time, to the civil rights movement, the summer of love or hazy marijuana smoke. Time, place and sound are intrinsic. There is no separation. If you can filter out the environment of a brilliant song, you'll find you've stripped it of its soul. \nUnfortunately, what's popular in today's mainstream music scene says nothing about our world, our hopes, our fears. Sure, maybe you can listen to Justin Timberlake and recognize he's listening to Michael Jackson or hear Creed and know it's listening to Pearl Jam, but their music fails to contextualize the world in which we're living. Taking a chance on a locally grown, unheard of artist offers a lesson regarding the concerns of a society, even if that society (Bloomington) is a microcosm of the world as a whole.\nI realized how important music can and should be to a locale when I spent my spring break in New Orleans. Meandering around by myself our last morning in town, I ventured into The Louisiana Music Factory. The endless racks of entirely local artists initially intimidated me, as I knew nothing about New Orleans musicians. Upon asking for recommendations from the cashier, she pointed me in the direction of their "listening stations." There in the back of the store I found eight ten-disc changers and headphones that allowed me to listen to over an hour of music I had never heard before. \nBecause I could listen before I committed 15 dollars to a purchase, I bought not one, but two albums: Los Hombres Calientes Volume 2 and The Iguanas Plastic Silver 9-Volt Heart. The former is a fantastical jazz fusion of Latin, reggae and traditional brass beats, and the latter is a blending of zydeco, blues and roots rock and roll. I never would have bought either of these albums had I not been able to preview them. Looking at a CD cover doesn't tell me if the substance inside matches my taste, and my budget doesn't allow me to just constantly buy on a whim. Even though I really shouldn't have spent any additional money, I couldn't refuse to splurge because I had sampled the music. Now back in Indiana and still broke from three other CD purchases since my trip, I'm so happy I have a little taste of New Orleans accessible whenever I want to musically travel back to its colorful southern culture. \nIn one month I'll graduate from IU and be forced to move away from Bloomington to get The Inevitable Job. Bloomington is an amazing cultural oasis in the otherwise bland state of Indiana, and its music should reflect its open-minded attitude, progressive political agenda and diverse population. So when I move away and I'm craving a taste of my college home, I'll be sure to tune my stereo to a little Sideburn Mike and the Lawsuits, Carrie Newcomer or John Mellencamp. I'm confident that this music, which reflects the personality of this town, will soothe my melancholy and provide me with the opportunity to musically journey back to Bloomington.

Digging for locally grow music

When I have free time and a fresh paycheck, my favorite indulgence is a trip to the record store. Every time I pass through the entrance to Tracks or Borders, my mind begins to churn out the mental list of approximately 246 CDs I want to get next. But sometimes I'm tempted to forget what friends have recommended to me, or what I just read in Rolling Stone. Sometimes I'm in the mood to buy a CD by a local Bloomington musician of whom I've never even heard a soundbite, just because it's fun to expand my collection.\nThis Weekend is dedicated to exploring the music within 2003's Live From Bloomington compilation. Whether this CD is fantastic or disappointing is not relevant. What's important is to acknowledge that listening to any town's local music offers an incredible opportunity to hear the texture and flavor of local culture. A musician is certainly influenced by their surroundings; likewise, surroundings can be sculpted by its music. \nThink of the torrential downpour of great music in the '60s and '70s. Walk around campus with your headphones blaring the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Bob Marley's Catch a Fire or Joni Mitchell's Blue and it's impossible to prevent your thoughts from wandering back in time, to the civil rights movement, the summer of love or hazy marijuana smoke. Time, place and sound are intrinsic. There is no separation. If you can filter out the environment of a brilliant song, you'll find you've stripped it of its soul. \nUnfortunately, what's popular in today's mainstream music scene says nothing about our world, our hopes, our fears. Sure, maybe you can listen to Justin Timberlake and recognize he's listening to Michael Jackson or hear Creed and know it's listening to Pearl Jam, but their music fails to contextualize the world in which we're living. Taking a chance on a locally grown, unheard of artist offers a lesson regarding the concerns of a society, even if that society (Bloomington) is a microcosm of the world as a whole.\nI realized how important music can and should be to a locale when I spent my spring break in New Orleans. Meandering around by myself our last morning in town, I ventured into The Louisiana Music Factory. The endless racks of entirely local artists initially intimidated me, as I knew nothing about New Orleans musicians. Upon asking for recommendations from the cashier, she pointed me in the direction of their "listening stations." There in the back of the store I found eight ten-disc changers and headphones that allowed me to listen to over an hour of music I had never heard before. \nBecause I could listen before I committed 15 dollars to a purchase, I bought not one, but two albums: Los Hombres Calientes Volume 2 and The Iguanas Plastic Silver 9-Volt Heart. The former is a fantastical jazz fusion of Latin, reggae and traditional brass beats, and the latter is a blending of zydeco, blues and roots rock and roll. I never would have bought either of these albums had I not been able to preview them. Looking at a CD cover doesn't tell me if the substance inside matches my taste, and my budget doesn't allow me to just constantly buy on a whim. Even though I really shouldn't have spent any additional money, I couldn't refuse to splurge because I had sampled the music. Now back in Indiana and still broke from three other CD purchases since my trip, I'm so happy I have a little taste of New Orleans accessible whenever I want to musically travel back to its colorful southern culture. \nIn one month I'll graduate from IU and be forced to move away from Bloomington to get The Inevitable Job. Bloomington is an amazing cultural oasis in the otherwise bland state of Indiana, and its music should reflect its open-minded attitude, progressive political agenda and diverse population. So when I move away and I'm craving a taste of my college home, I'll be sure to tune my stereo to a little Sideburn Mike and the Lawsuits, Carrie Newcomer or John Mellencamp. I'm confident that this music, which reflects the personality of this town, will soothe my melancholy and provide me with the opportunity to musically journey back to Bloomington.

'If a man can look this good'

As the lights dimmed to signal the start of Friday's Miss Gay IU pageant, the crowd erupted in exuberant applause. \nGradually a disco ball sent bullets of light around the IU Auditorium and the orchestra pit filled in as a platform lifted six drag queens to the stage to begin the 12th annual competition. The gay pride rainbow of ball gowns was only the beginning of a splattering of artificially sweetened hair and makeup that left an intoxicating residue on the audience.\nThe drag queens appeared calm and confident, though just 15 minutes before curtain call the backstage dressing rooms quaked with last-minute searches for bobby pins and acrylic nails. \n"It's a lot of fun, something unique and different ... It's just a different form of theater," competitor Angie Steven said. "I'm certainly proud of IU for doing it."\nThree participants, Angie (first runner-up), Savannah St. James (second runner-up) and Della Licious (2003 Miss Gay IU), competed in this year's pageant, which was comprised of an onstage question round, an evening gown display and a talent section. Veteran drag queens Vicki St. James and Brandi Ice hosted the competition, providing comic relief in between the numerous lip-syncing performances.\n"If a man can look this good," Vicki said looking down at her clinging dress, "there's no excuse for an ugly woman."\nBackstage the queens were living caricatures of this statement. An arsenal of makeup cluttered everyone's dressing room; preparing for the performance takes most at least an hour.\n"I feel like a deer caught in headlights with these eyelashes," Angie joked, her eyes like slits underneath the weight of her two-inch lashes.\nThough up-close the queens' makeup could be peeled off like the layers of an onion -- from the audience they appeared iridescent. The combination of theatrical performances, dramatic makeup and sequined, brightly colored costumes effectively bewitched the audience throughout the three hour event. \nBut Miss Gay IU is not only about physical appearances, as personified by the first section of the competition, the onstage question: What issue are you most concerned with and how would you address it with the title? Della answered the question by highlighting the importance of acceptance, also noting that as the newly appointed DJ at a Fort Wayne radio station, she promises to be a vocal force.\n"I grew up the fat kid and then I became ... this," Della said, motioning to her oversized figure. "It happens. And then I became the fag and the queer. The hateful words kept coming at me. But stepping on stage with all of you I feel accepted. Some people are ignorant and can't see the hand in front of their faces. People who are ignorant are holding us back."\nThe performers are not alone in recognizing the social implications of such an event. Graduate student Jason Jones judged this year's pageant for the first time -- the past three years he helped to coordinate Miss Gay IU.\n"It's a figurehead for events on campus that want to be open to different sexualities," Jones said. \nAfter the question round, 2002 Miss Gay IU Sugar Blackman sauntered to center stage in a blood-red bikini with peacock-feathered trim, a matching red cape grazing the ground behind her. In moments adoring fans mobbed the front of the stage, all eagerly reaching to give Sugar a dollar or two. By the end of her impressive performance, she struggled to balance her large peacock fan and the giant mound of bills.\nMr. Gay IU Ian King also performed, though his was a bit more risque than Sugar's. Singing along to the Naked Eyes' '80s hit, "Always Something There to Remind Me," he pulled bras and underwear out of his pockets throughout his performance. \nEven more daring was Della's appearance during the talent part of the competition. Dancing and singing to Macy Gray's "Sexual Revolution," she stripped off an oversized coat to reveal rhinestone-covered nipples and a mound of fake hair coming out of her bikini.\n"The crowd is fabulous, I'm loving the crowd," Della said during intermission. \nAfter Della was crowned Miss Gay IU 2003, she was honored with a spotlight performance of Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful." While tightly clutching her bouquet of flowers, her bottom lip quivered and her eyes welled up with tears as she sang along: "I am beautiful, no matter what they say."\n"I came here expecting to have a good time," Della said, "and that's what I did"

'Servants of the Lord'

Hunter Avenue is virtually silent on a recent Friday morning. The sky is gray. The air is glacial. It's the kind of morning when most students wake up and hit the snooze button, intending to stay in bed for at least another hour.\nBut Mormon missionaries Elder Stotlar and Elder Rosskopf awoke to their 6:30 a.m. alarm with energy and optimism. For the past year and a half, the 20-year-old men have dedicated each day to spreading knowledge of their religion by going door-to-door and organizing discussions with Bloomington residents and IU students. Mission work requires them to give up movies, music, family holidays and phone calls home. But local missionaries say those obligations are rewarded with a deep spiritual growth.\nAfter digesting breakfast with a daily dose of scripture, they're undaunted by the chilly air and eager to begin knocking on doors to inform people about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.\nStotlar, a tall man with hazel eyes, has lived in Bloomington for four months. He always pauses before answering a question, and when his thoughts surface, his voice is soft and deep. \n"I think in a sense we give up our old life," Stotlar said. "We become servants of the Lord."\nAdding God, subtracting distractions\nUnlike Stotlar, Idaho native Elder Brown has lived in Bloomington for a month. Two weeks ago, he was sent to Terre Haute after only a day's notice. Generally, 10 missionaries live in Bloomington at a time. According to the church's official Web site (http://www.lds.org), more than 60,000 people devoted their lives to missionary work in 2001.\n"When we turn 19, we have the opportunity to go out on a mission," Brown said, his dark brown eyes expressive. "We send papers to the prophet, and he tells us we're going to live for two years. (Elder Stotlar and I) got called to Indiana for our mission." \nBefore beginning their mission, missionaries spend three weeks intensively training in Utah. If they will do mission work abroad, they are required to spend eight to 11 weeks learning another language. Brown said the training teaches missionaries how to communicate.\n"It's a spiritual training and preparation," Stotlar said. "There are 3,000 missionaries at any given time. It's both exciting and exhausting." \nWhen the mission begins, rules envelope their lives. To recall all their requirements, Stotlar pulls out a pocket-size, white book, so worn it's held together with Scotch Tape. He thumbs through it while Brown begins to list activities that are prohibited during a mission.\n"There's no dating," Brown said. "No watching TV. No music -- that's one of the hardest ones. I'm learning to love church music, that's for sure."\nHe laughs at this admission, and Stotlar continues to outline their rules, verbatim from their little white book.\n"I've always been my own boss," Stotlar said. "I've never really had a schedule and have always done my own thing. There are so many rules -- no contact sports, no water sports, no winter sports, no motorcycling, no swimming.\n"There are rules on letter-writing too," he added, explaining they can write to their families only once a week. And they can call home only twice a year -- Mother's Day and Christmas.\n"It keeps us focused," Stotlar said. "If I were to call home, I'd be thinking more about home than my mission work."\nAnother rule: They are to address each other as "Elder" (or "Sister" for women). The two men have been working together for a month and have no idea what the other's first name is.\n"It's a title for those who preach the gospel," Brown said. Their mission is so demanding they don't have time for leisure activities, he added. He misses basketball and swimming, but he misses his family the most, he said. \nHe reaches into his jacket pocket to show a photo of his parents and two siblings; this way they're always close to his heart. Brown said he is sad he won't see his family for another year, but his mission has been rewarding and worth the commitment.\n"It's not always easy to be obedient," he said. "But I know if we are, we will be blessed. There's no greater joy than that -- having the Spirit with us."\nAnswering the door, answering God\nA typical day for a Mormon missionary begins with scripture study shortly after waking up at 6:30 a.m. from 9:30 a.m. until lunchtime, the missionary knocks on doors. He goes door-to-door again until dinner, then again until 9:30 p.m. Lights go out at 10:30 p.m.\nOn this recent Friday morning, Elder Rosskopf and Elder Stotlar plan to walk up and down Hunter Avenue, south of Third Street, knocking only on houses. They hit the apartments last week.\n"Sometimes you have bad days, sometimes decent and sometimes great," Rosskopf said, his round face erupting in a grin. "It just depends. The biggest challenge is keeping a positive attitude."\nRosskopf strolls along Hunter Avenue with lightness in his gait, as if he never gets discouraged or sad. And everyone who walks past him and Stotlar is privy to their positivity. The men greet those who pass with "Good morning, how are you today?" \nNo one is home at the first house they knock on. They try the next door and disappear inside the house for about 10 minutes, although the girl who lives there wants nothing to do with the Book of Mormon.\nThey arrive at a small, beige house and lightly knock several times. \n"Hi, how are you doing this morning?" Stotlar asks, his voice thick with sincerity. After some small talk, Stotlar asks how much the residents know about the Book of Mormon. The two students in pajamas stare back, unsure how to proceed.\nPJ Gindling, a senior, sips his coffee and tells them they're doing fine, but he has a test in an hour. His roommate, James Klaunig, a junior, is a little more forward.\n"Listen, I don't want to be rude, but I'm not really interested and I don't want to waste your time," Klaunig said. "I'm sure there are other people who would be more worthy of your time."\nRosskopf and Stotlar are undaunted by the lack of interest and chat with the students for several minutes. Turns out that Klaunig is from California, just like Rosskopf.\nAnd that's the hook. The missionaries don't immediately launch into a lengthy sermon about the Church or the Book of Mormon. Each time someone answers the door to the missionaries, the men seem interested in how that person is feeling. This morning, people respond to the missionaries' cheerful greetings, even if they have no interest in learning about Mormonism.\n"There are two main elements I love," Rosskopf said. "I love being able to be there to help people change their lives. Also the closeness to God. There's a special closeness that will never exist at another time in our lives."\nThe next house they approach embodies this. A small, elderly man opens his door and invites the missionaries in for a prayer. His house is warm and dimly lit with nearly every inch of the walls decorated with a painting or a photograph of his grandchildren. The three men bow their heads and share a prayer. \nBut 85-year-old Chester Terrell is an active Lutheran. Although he politely listens to Stotlar read a passage from the Book of Mormon, he rejects their offer for a free copy of the book. He points to a paper bag full of books that his neighbor dropped off just minutes before -- he has enough reading already.\nThey give him a postcard, which displays a toll-free number to call if Terrell changes his mind and wants a copy of the Book of Mormon.\nStotlar said it's impossible to quantify the impact they make as missionaries. Although only a handful of people convert to Mormonism each year, many more express at least an interest in learning more, and Stotlar said that is enough to make their mission memorable. \nThey go next door and try again. In two hours, they, like door-to-door salesmen, approach about a dozen homes.\n"But I don't feel like I'm selling something," Stotlar said. "Our religion is something that has brought us a lot of joy and happiness and can do the same for anyone else."\nCreating a missions team\nMormons divide each state into zones, and Indiana is broken up into nine zones. Every six weeks, missionaries gather for a zone meeting. \nEighteen people have met for a zone meeting on a recent Thursday morning at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2411 E. Second St. The room is a little bigger than an average Ballantine classroom, and pictures of Jesus Christ adorn the walls, the podium and an easel. Gospel piano music wafts through the air, the sound speckled with cheerful, soft-spoken hellos. As more people arrive, their conversations drown out the music. \nElder Rich stands at the podium at the front of the room and begins the meeting by proclaiming he "loves you all very much. You're all wonderful." He tells the group members to open their hymnal book, and they sing, "I Love Thee Every Hour."\nElder Rosskopf then offers a prayer. Everyone bows his or her head, and the room grows so quiet the ticking clock seems deafening.\nAfter some opening announcements, Elder Johnston explains the meeting will focus on being a better missionary. Johnston passes out a handout that charts their collective weekly progress and offers praise. He then hands out the "Five Habits of Highly Effective Missionaries," which lists desire, obedience, love, testimony and faith as essential elements of mission work.\n"Why is desire important?" Johnston rhetorically asks. "Are we willing to get up at 6:30? To sit on a hard chair rather than the bed so we can stay awake and study? Am I here for myself or here for others? I really try to forget myself, but without desire it can't be done."\nJohnston then asks the group about their definition of love, and how they apply it to their mission work. Sister Dewey, who is completing her mission with her husband, is eager to express her thoughts.\n"I left 20 grandchildren at home, which was the hardest part (of starting a mission)," said Dewey, whose sudden tears muffle her words. "But since we've been here we have gained 200 grandchildren and we love you all."\nStotlar sympathizes with Dewey -- although he misses his old life, he said he believes his mission will prove valuable.\n"Sure it's two years, but it flies by," Stotlar said. "I look back at it and wonder where all the time went. It's an exciting time to talk about the gospel of Jesus"

At their monthly zone meeting, Elder Brown bows his head during a discussion about obedience while Elder Johnston converses with Elder Rosskopf.

Protesters gather at Monument Circle

Eight-year-old Nathan Haberman's complaints of the overwhelming cold echoed from inside his sister Megan's long wool coat, where Nathan was attempting to find warmth at Saturday's anti-war protest in Indianapolis. \nUpon hearing Nathan's whimpering, a pair of protesters turned around, armed with an extra pair of wool socks and pocket warmers. Soon Nathan's legs were no longer sticking out of his sister's coat, but dangling from his father's shoulders as they helped take off his wet shoes and in their place put wool socks stuffed with the pocket warmers on his feet. \nAn estimated 450 people gathered at the base of Monument Circle to listen as speakers and musicians broadcast their peaceful message from the top of the stairs. The rally was one of hundreds of worldwide protests that occurred Saturday in an effort to oppose the war on Iraq. \nNathan's father, David Haberman, an IU professor of religious studies, brought his two children to the protest to encourage them to think critically about the consequences of war.\n"I feel strongly that this war is as wrong as can possibly be and I'm willing to suffer the cold to say so," Haberman said. "I still look back on the horror of the Vietnam War and at least I have the satisfaction of resisting that. I want my children to think about what war really is and to have the opportunity to say it's wrong."\nIndianapolis resident Pamela Khalid brought her 8-year-old twin daughters to Monument Circle. \n"They need to learn early on that America is about freedom of speech and expression, not about war," Khalid said. "If terrorists make our country silent then they've won half of the war."\nAs Khalid explained her decision to bring her children to the rally, her daughters, Saara and Ameera, bounced around to keep warm, tightly gripping their neon, homemade anti-war signs written with Crayola markers. The protest was their fourth since the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11.\n"I don't think it's right," Saara said firmly. "Why don't we take oil from somewhere else?" \n"Not someone who doesn't want to give it to us anyway," Ameera chimed in.\nThe diverse crowd of young and old was a sea of wind-chapped, attentive faces all bobbing up and down to keep warm in the frigid air. Over the microphone a protest coordinator announced that not only did they have hot chocolate to offer, but also extra hats and gloves if anyone needed another layer of warmth. And he reminded demonstrators the best way to keep warm is to hug your neighbor. \nThe chill didn't seem to bother sophomore Heather Fitch, who happily waved a sign that said "No War with Iraq."\n"I would rather stand out in the cold and stand up for what I believe in," Fitch said, "than to wimp out and watch it on TV."\nThe crowd's spirits were high as they listened to the various speakers, ranging from war veterans to politicians to activists to religious leaders. Harold Donle, a Vietnam War veteran and IU-Purdue University at Indianapolis professor, spoke for several minutes, and concluded by asking the crowd "What do we want?" and "When do we want it?"\nA boisterous "Peace!" and "Now!" exploded from the crowd. The exchange continued for several minutes until Donle looked winded from shouting. Noah Merrill, a 2002 IU graduate, organized the speakers for Saturday's protests and said listening to the war veterans was the most powerful of all the speakers' messages.\n"It was important to hear the voices of so many war veterans," Merrill said. "I think as Americans we all have to have respect for people who risked their lives. For those who've seen the horrors of war to speak out against this war is particularly inspiring. They have wisdom to base their judgments." \nMerrill said the rally was a culmination of a month's efforts to organize speakers and bands to support the cause. \n"On a personal level, I feel like as a citizen of this country we have a responsibility to speak out for what we believe in. In this situation -- whether it's war or peace or one of the many options in between -- we have a responsibility to make our voices heard," Merrill said. "I would say that as an organizer what really struck me was the diversity of people who want to talk about this issue. What we've done is chosen to use our voices as citizens of a democratic society, and now we're asking people to answer us."\nMerrill is not the only one calling on elected officials to respond. Jeanette Wallis began collecting grievances against President Bush shortly after the 2000 election and left her Seattle home on July 17, 2001, to walk to Washington, D.C. Her "Walk for Democracy" has brought her and her dog 2,700 miles thus far and coincided with Saturday's protest in Indianapolis. She plans to meet with the President upon arriving in D.C. and has charted her progress on a Web site (www.thewalkfordemocracy.org).\n"Peace is not the absence of violence, but the presence of nonviolent direct action," Wallis said. "Be the change you wish to see in the world. Put one foot in front of the other and you can go anywhere."\nSophomore Sara Costenaro said she identifies with Wallis' philosophy. Originally, she and her friends planned to go to the New York City rally, but due to a lack of funds decided to simply support the Indianapolis cause.\n"I wanted to show support and see what people had to say," Costenaro said. "And if you lose your voice, you lose everything"

Cities around globe unite to protest Iraq war

As the threat of war in Iraq intensifies, so too does the schism between those in favor of war and those advocating peace. And America is not the only nation with splintered opinions between these two philosophies.\nThis Saturday, an enormous mobilization against war will take place with simultaneous mass demonstrations in 528 cities across the globe to protest against U.S. plans to attack Iraq.\nBloomington is included among the masses -- at noon Saturday, protesters will assemble at the Sample Gates and will march to the Monroe County courthouse.\nThe largest protest in America will be in New York City. Sponsored by United for Peace, the stationary rally will start at noon in Midtown Manhattan on First Avenue and 49th St., a location that is in sight of the United Nations. In Chicago, the Coalition Against War and Racism has organized a protest at the intersection of Devon and Leavitt Streets in the heart of the Pakistani community. In Indianapolis, the Peace and Justice Center has organized a protest at Monument Circle.\nSenior Lauren Taylor has spent the past several weeks trying to motivate and organize IU students, faculty and community residents to venture to any of the protests to make their voices heard.\n"It's so important to overcome the illusion of powerlessness," Taylor said. "This idea that we can't do anything is why people don't make the effort to get informed. We have such a tremendous responsibility to try and use information to do what we think is right. When people realize collectively they have power, they can protest and unite."\nTaylor left early today for New York City, with approximately 35 IU students and residents. She said she's most concerned about the U.S. destruction of Iraq's political and social infrastructure. \n"We're demonstrating collectively how we feel. I think it will be energizing for the peace movement and empowering to see the whole world protesting the same issue," she said. "I hope to come back with lots of good ideas, more energy, more inspiration. I also hope to talk to people about the direction the peace movement needs to go, and try and work on setting specific goals."\nTaylor is a member of the Coalition to Oppose the War in Iraq, who met Monday to discuss transportation to the protests. Usually Ballantine Room 209 accommodates the crowd sufficiently, but this week there were twice as many people in attendance as their were chairs, evidence that the movement is growing, Taylor said. She added the growing interest encourages her to be optimistic about the outcome of this weekend's protests.\nFaculty are noticing the growing anti-war sentiment among students also. Mike Gasser, an associate professor of computer science and linguistics, said a student told him he would be unable to complete an assignment due next week because he was traveling to New York for the protest.\n"That's the first time this ever happened," Gasser said. "I was just blown away. It felt like a flashback -- this could be 1968. I was a student then. So (the movement) does seem to be growing slowly, but growing among students."\nGasser is a member of the Progressive Faculty Coalition and has been working to coordinate Bloomington's protest. Though he hopes several hundred people will attend Bloomington's protest, he mostly hopes people will attend demonstrations in larger cities like Chicago or Indianapolis because those will get the most media coverage and therefore have the largest impact.\n"The event on Saturday may be largest protest in the history of world. People will be protesting all the way from East Timor to Rwanda to Estonia," he said. "I think they're going to fight the war anyway -- we don't have much hope but we have to do it anyway. It really is the best and last chance we have because plans are moving forward."\nTaylor said regardless of the outcome of the protests, it's important for people to stand up for what they believe in.\n"It's going to be impossible for the administration and the press to ignore," she said.\nSenior James Bourke works with Taylor in COWI and plans to go to Indianapolis Saturday. He has been highly involved in activism since the war in Afghanistan, and said the sense that his actions make even the slightest bit of difference is uplifting and empowering.\n"The 15th is a date that has been selected for worldwide protests, collectively as the world says no to war," Bourke said. "I feel the need to take part because I want to support my views. And when people go to protests it's an invigorating experience, and generally a positive experience. I'm hoping that will carry into our local efforts."\nFor more information about protests around the world, log on to www.unitedforpeace.org

All That Jazz

When Ariel Alexander stands to play a solo on her saxophone, she's surprisingly small, both in stature and presence. She doesn't throw her head back when she plays, and her cheeks don't flush red or balloon out as the solo crescendos. Nonetheless, she plays with a fierce grace and subtle soul, commanding a powerful ownership of her smooth saxophone that resonates in the music practice room filled with members of David Baker's jazz ensemble.\nAlexander, a sophomore from St. Louis, is the only female member of the reputable 20-person jazz ensemble.\n"Honestly, music is music," Alexander said. "I don't think about it, and no one treats me differently. It really doesn't matter in this (academic) environment. No one points it out to me. It's no greater feat because I'm the only girl."\nAlexander began playing the saxophone in fifth grade, though her love affair with music began at the age of three.\n"I begged (my parents) to take me to my brother's piano lessons, so they finally let me have my own," she said, brushing her thick brown hair out of her face.\nShe acknowledges that being a female certainly makes her a minority in the jazz community, but she has never allowed that to hinder her involvement or discourage her improvement, she said.\n"People have stereotypes. If you look at me, you wouldn't necessarily be able to tell I can play the saxophone," Alexander said as she bit her lower right lip (a habitual behavior when she's thinking). "But people are generally becoming more accepting of women in jazz. Some of my favorite jazz musicians are women, but it's because they play well, not because they're women."\nJunior Jeff Suzda, who plays the baritone sax, agrees completely with Alexander, his friend and musical peer. The two met four years ago at a jazz summer camp. He said he was instantly surprised by her talent because she was younger than most campers.\n"But Ariel played with such maturity, beyond her years as it still is today," Suzda said. "She has an amazing grasp of harmonic vocabulary."\nSuzda's respect for Alexander is evident -- while she plays her solo, he looks to his left at her, the corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile.\n"Everytime she plays she surprises me with either some new rhythm or catches my ear and makes me listen a little harder," Suzda said, adding that her impressive musical talent has nothing to do with her gender. "It's not guy or girl, it's just musicians. She's the model to prove that. Just listen to her … good God." \nAlexander finishes her solo and sits back in her chair. She instinctively bobs her head to the swanky jazz beat and stretches out her mouth before joining the group again. The song ends and she bites her lip as she listens intently to Baker's comments about measure 106. You can tell she's processing his suggestions. He recommends moving onto another song, and then she flips through her sheet music to find the specific number. The pages are worn and frayed, as if they've been played a hundred times before.\nAlexander said she probably practices 25 hours a week outside of class.\n"She's got an understanding and is always thinking about music," Suzda confirmed. "She's so amazing -- she has a 101 fever now and still stayed up writing a song until 4 in the morning. Her drive and ambition to be a part of music is incredible."\nThis determination that Alexander exudes also impressed Tom Walsh, her saxophone instructor. Walsh, an assistant professor of saxophone and jazz studies, works with Alexander once a week for a on-on-one sax lesson and said Alexander is an outstanding student.\n"She is someone who is constantly exploring on her own, and she's very excited about jazz. She's eager to learn new things and regularly comes in with questions about things she's working on on her own," Walsh said. "It makes it a lot easier to teach someone who has that type of curiosity, who's really exploring and trying things and working things out on their own. She's a very self-motivated, very energetic, very enthusiastic person."\nIn addition to successfully channeling her energy toward playing the saxophone, Suzda said Alexander is also an outstanding writer.\n"Her compositions are very introspective and thoughtful and very, very deep," Suzda said. "They stand out in the group very colorfully. If everyone in the class is writing 'X' compositions, she's the one person who goes about it in a 'Y' manner. Few others come close to her originality."\nSuzda said although Alexander is an incredible musician, she is not singularly about music. The two worked together at a jazz summer camp last year, and he said campers loved her because she's so warm and friendly.\nWatching her play the saxophone, she seems completely at ease. Her playing seems effortless. And when she crinkles up her nose during practice because a note sounds slightly off, it is evident she is committed to perfecting her music and really thrives off the energy bouncing around the practice room.\n"It's a feeling of spontaneity and oneness with the other performers with whom you're playing," she said. "It's just a zone. You practice and you naturally put everything else aside and you just play. It's beautiful. You can be in a moment. It's a separate language. You can get out your own feelings and communicate with others."\nAlexander said she hopes her music will eventually allow her to communicate with children (her second love) by creating a jazz education method for teaching music to inner-city kids.\n"Performance by itself is very self-fulfilling," she said. "My purpose won't be fulfilled until I go out and help people enjoy what I enjoy."\nAlexander's musical philosophies extend further. In addition to believing her talent should inspire and help people, she disagrees with the creation of all-female jazz groups, she said.\n"There's a surge now and I don't agree with that. You should play with the best musicians you can," she said. "All-female groups are just finding another way to separate themselves. It's cyclical -- they're working against themselves."\nWalsh said although jazz is still heavily dominated by men, respect for women in the jazz community is increasing. He pauses and begins to rattle off a list of influential female jazz musicians -- Louis Armstrong's wife, Lil Hardin, trumpet player Ingrid Jensen and jazz composer Maria Schneider.\n"I think for a lot of jazz musicians it's not something that's really new," Walsh said. "Yes the numbers are skewed so it's predominantly male, but there are enough really amazing women jazz musicians out there that any intelligent man knows they've gotta hear somebody play before they make any judgments."\nAlexander said she agrees with this open-minded attitude, though she can recall several instances where her audience or peers treated her differently because she was female.\n"I laugh it off," Alexander said of her reaction to people who unfairly categorize her ability. "People make these comments, but then they hear me play and think 'Oh, I can take her seriously.' I have to be able to back it up."\nWalsh said Alexander's ability to prove herself comes easily and her desire to improve as a musician and her natural talent guarantees her a bright future.\n"That's a really crucial combination of characteristics for someone who is going to continue as a musician," Walsh said. "And she has those characteristics. She's someone who is very determined and that's what it takes"

The papier-mache breasts hang on the wall at the Stanley B. Mendelsohn Gallery. The Bloomington Breast Project will be displayed through Feb. 15.

Musical environmentalists play for variety and a green earth

Dave Hahn, a senior, realized he wanted to help save the world while studying marine biology in Fiji.\n"We studied the destruction of the coral reefs," Hahn says, his blue eyes earnest in the noonday sun. "When the water is too warm a reef will kill itself, so there are acres and acres of dead coral, and I had a lot of time to think. You can't look at that sort of destruction and forget about it. You feel a sense of responsibility."\nBut Hahn is also enamored by music. In an effort to combine his deep respect for the environment and music, Hahn invented Preservation Records last fall. The company will begin with Project Bloomington, a compilation album of local musicians, in which the proceeds will go toward a local environmental agency.\n"I couldn't help thinking, 'what the hell am I going to do with my life?'" Hahn admits. "And I began to think about starting a company based on music and charity and environmental protection. It brings together all my loves: travel, preserving local music and the local environment."\nHahn says Preservation Records was founded on the idea to make a faithful capsule to represent a town's local music scene, as it's difficult to get your music heard when first starting out. In addition to pooling from local musicians, Hahn also wants to work with local environmental protection agencies.\n"There's really only one rule: the fundraising must benefit the immediate environment with the help of local music," Hahn says. "The idea is to make so many small impacts that eventually they'll add up to one big one." \nIn order to make this idea a reality, Hahn, a German major, had to make many small decisions of his own in regards to the business aspect of launching a company. \n"This has taken months of preparation," Hahn says. "I've had help from a lot of people, and I'm so thankful -- I didn't know anything about employee IDs, business law, contracts, tax sheltering. You just have to ask the right people the right questions. I'm no genius, anybody can do it."\nHahn has brought aboard senior Sarah Purcell as the chief publicist. While Hahn works out the logistics, Purcell has spent the past few months talking to everyone she can. The more submissions they receive, the more polished their final product will be.\n"I work with the lawyer, the accountants and the environmental groups, but I'm only one and I can't do everything," Hahn says. "Sarah's ambitious and persistent and I needed someone like that."\nPurcell has experience with artist promotion. Last year she interned for California's Vanguard Records as part of their promotional street team, which required her to promote Vanguard musicians if they were playing a show in the southern Indiana area. \n"I already had a hand in on how things worked, which has made this easier because I already had connections made," says Purcell, who hopes to make artistic representation and promotion a career.\nHer prior connections have been helpful, but Purcell says she nonetheless spends about 25 hours a week hanging fliers or talking to local radio stations and musicians.\n"To my grave I will believe that the goal of musicians is to get their music heard," Purcell says. "With Project Bloomington they can do that without so much work, and it helps the local environment -- you can't beat that."\nAs of press time, Purcell says they have enough submissions for a full compilation, though she hopes to receive even more to ensure a really fair representation of Bloomington's music scene.\n"It's Bloomington," Purcell exclaims, laughing. "This is an extremely diverse town, so it's only fair to be representing that diversity. There are so many bands people have never heard of, who are wonderful and great and represent a different side of Bloomington. We can get the ball rolling for them."\nCameron Mizell, a senior jazz history major, says he received a mass email last month from Hahn encouraging music students to submit their work to Preservation Records. Mizell is a jazz guitarist and has been performing around Bloomington with jazz singer Matthew Gailey, a grad student. Mizell says he's happy his participation will lead toward bettering the environment, but he mainly chose to enter a submission for the resulting exposure.\n"There would be no point in making music if it was just for my own good," says Mizell of his involvement with Project Bloomington. "I didn't think I'd make music to save the planet, but I figure everyone's got their own talents. Dave really has his act together, and is really working toward that, and needed a hand from other people, so I did that."\nHahn says so far they have received some refreshingly different submissions.\n"In Bloomington a lot of genres of music have been overlooked -- acoustic bluegrass, spoken word…where are they going to play?" Hahn says. "They have no venues, and a lot are excited because they can get their music heard and it's for a good cause."\nMizell says although it's a risk, he's looking forward to his music submission sharing a CD with other artists, particularly because the final product will benefit others.\n"It's not going to make me any money," Mizell explains. "It's not making anybody money except that which goes to a good cause, so I'm cool with that."\nPurcell and Hahn agree that the response from the local music community has been nothing but positive and supportive, though finding an environmental group to collaborate with has been more of a challenge than originally expected.\n"Environmental groups are really positive, but unlike the musicians, they want to know about logistics," Hahn says. "We want to do nothing but help, we don't want to be a hindrance. They have enough responsibility and enough to worry about. I will do it for them because I care. People don't buy it though. They must look at me with a sideways glance like, what's in it for you?"\nHahn and Purcell hope to make the finished product available by mid-March. After that, Hahn says he wants Bloomington to be only the beginning. The ultimate goal, he says, is that in about 10 to 15 years from now, Preservation Records will be more than just a record label with two employees. Hahn envisions bringing his company to many different cities in America, and then even foreign nations.\n"Once we start in big countries, we'll focus on the problems in their own environment," Hahn says optimistically. "For instance, Fiji is a developing country so they can't afford to fix their own problems."\nUpon going international, Hahn says he'd like to expand the goal of Preservation Records to serve as an educational resource for children.\n"As the world gets smaller, we have to start learning more about other countries," Hahn says. "The biggest resource is not just our generation but the ones after us. I'd like to have traveling educators, to get kids interested in music, then the environment because of their interest in music, and then they'll realize problems but also be taught a positive message 'I can make a difference.'"\nHahn ultimately wants to make his living doing something he loves, something he feels passionately about, and he says Preservation Records will help him to achieve this goal.\n"Music is just this universal force," Hahn says. "Everyone loves it, and that's our most powerful tool."\nSubmissions for Project Bloomington are due Feb. 14. Interested local musicians should contact Dave Hahn (djhahn@indiana.edu) or Sarah Purcell (sacpurce@indiana.edu). For more information check http://www.preservationrecords.com.