BlogDailyHerald Presents: 140 tracks to make finals bearable

Even finals can be made a little better with some good music, right? Wrong. Right! So, instead of actually doing our own work, we compiled a killer study playlist that’ll hopefully make living in the Rock (or Scili!) slightly more bearable. Be sure to comment below with your favorite songs or any ones that we missed.

Happy finals!


8 reasons Brown Folk Fest is the best

Brown University Folk Festival (a.k.a Folk Fest for the hip folks), Spring Weekend‘s obscure sister—and what  took over Ruth Simmons Quad on Saturday, is one of the most awesome things at Brown. Here’s why if you missed it this year, you should definitely go next year.

1. It’s freeNothing is free. Ever. Enjoy it.

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2. Absolutely no one has heard of the bands…so you know for sure that kid who always pretends to know hipster music is lyingAnd it’s a cool way to listen to music you normally wouldn’t have!

3. That being said, the musicians are all amazingly talented. Including some of Brown’s own (including my personal favorite from the day, the amazingly talented Lizzie Davis.).

4. It’s what we all imagine Brown in the 1960s was like. I have no basis for this statement. But look at how much fun these people are having!

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Anatomy of a naked party

My Saturday night.

My Saturday night.

Many people outside of College Hill think that Brown students run around naked all of the time. Jesse Watters’ sensationalized coverage of PW’s Nudity in the Upspace didn’t quite help with this image either. The reality, however, is that the majority of Brown students have never participated in a naked event. Nudity on campus (that is beyond the dormitory showers) is somewhat like a secret society—the Naked Donut Run itself is a very selective and exclusive underground network. Given the low chances of successfully infiltrating the NDR, your best shot of putting your birthday suit on display is to attend a naked party.

Naked parties are not the easiest things to find. You get invited via email a few days beforehand and word doesn’t spread as far as you might think. Although there is not a list at the door, you’ve basically got to be within two degrees of separation to end up at one of these things. Many Brunonians wait until the end of their senior year to hit up a naked party. We at BlogDH figured that a bunch of you are curious about what it’s like, or want to know what you may get yourself into. Surely you have wondered at some point, what would the world be like if nobody wore clothes.  Well, as the sacrificial lamb, I found out what a college house party would be like if no one wore clothing. I am honored to present: Anatomy of a Naked Party (We like to make jokes here at BlogDH).

I was initially nervous that I would have to make my way to the party wearing nothing but my skin. One of the preliminary emails gave me relief by instructing that there would be a changing room and that I should bring a bag for my clothes. I decided not to do any out of the ordinary—my idea was that if I’m going to be naked, I might as well look like my usual self.

There were stringent rules for this naked party:

- There were no cameras allowed in the space, for obvious reasons.

- It was frowned upon to show up extremely intoxicated, particularly considering the whole bare feet and vomit conundrum.

- It was explicitly stated in the party invitation that any kind of touching, sexual or not, must be consensual.

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Brown Gilbert & Sullivan presents Camelot

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We are living in dark times. As Brown begins to enter this most trying of periods in the semester–with the riotous celebrations of Spring Weekend behind us and the ominous specter of finals beginning to loom–glad tidings may seem few and far between. In sooth, though the days may be longer and the weather warmer, we are but prisoners; chained to our desks, subsisting on a meager diet of Ratty take-out. These are dark times indeed.

But lo! Enter Brown University Gilbert and Sullivan‘s production of Camelot, a performance destined to uplift you from your dreary existence and fill your world with song and dance.

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Introducing: The Dean Hotel

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After much anticipation, The Dean Hotel officially opened in downtown Providence on April 3rd with one of the hipper after-parties Fountain Street has ever seen (there was a large, yellow snake involved). In the past few months, The Dean has caught the attention of The New York Times and T Magazine, but now the time has come for the student body to reap the benefits of this local commodity. Why should you check out The Dean Hotel? How is it going to reshape the way you experience Providence as a college town? The Dean has everything the young collegian’s heart could possibly desire. We love The Dean. Let us count the ways.

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1. The Dean is a hotel that is inspired by, well, us. The hotel has been carefully curated to exude an eggheaded vibe and the interior design achieves the perfect blend of Ivy League traditionalism and RISD-esque crafty eccentricity. The art, furniture, and objects that adorn the Dean warrant their own Art School(ed) post. The hotel’s website encourages Providence visitors to “come sleep with The Dean.” (How did they know about our crush on KBerge?!?) In reality, few of us will ever leave the twin XLs in our dorm rooms for The Dean’s bunkbeds, but the new hotel provides a viable option for visiting parents, and it outshines all of the other temporary lodging options in the city. The Dean follows in the footsteps of experiential New York hotels like the Ace Hotel and the Standard and brings a taste of that concrete jungle to the streets of downtown Providence, with its own New England twist.

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PW presents ‘Bobrauschenbergamerica’

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If you’re not sure what’s going on in Charles Mee‘s Bobrauschenbergamerica, you’re probably not alone. The play, whose title references Neo-Dadaist American painter and sculptor Robert Rauschenber, is directed by Thom Finley ’14 and opens tonight in the PW Downspace. It is whimsical, wacky, and at times, bordering on nonsensical. Which is precisely the point.

The show’s eccentric nature is clear before actors even take the stage. The set, designed by Sam Keamy-Minor ’16, resembles an explosion of an all-American house. Symbols of domestic, small-town American life are strung from the ceiling, creating a web of dust pans, dollhouses, badminton racquets, toy cars, and rolling pins. Slides projected onto hanging white boards give the space a museum-like feel.

Bobrauschenbergamerica is held up by a committed and ceaselessly energetic ensemble cast. Much of the time the members of the show appear onstage all at once, feeling less like a group of individuals and more like a well-oiled machine. The nontraditional narrative structure, which consists of a series of loosely connected vignettes, synchronized dance numbers, audio clips, monologues and wordless sequences, is deliberately vague, demanding audience members’ active intellectual engagement. The dance numbers are just riotously funny, although there is something frightening in the moments of synchronization, something abnormally homogenous.

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