Relaxing with Dr. Rajita Sinha
The Yale Stress Center: just sounds like a description of Bass Library during finals, right? In fact, the Stress Center is a recently established research group looking at how everyday pressures affect our bodies and minds. Located on the second floor of an ominous-looking building near the Medical School, the Center combines clinical practice with empirical analysis in an integrated approach to treating and studying stress. WEEKEND sat down with Dr. Rajita Sinha, the Center’s Founding Director, to find out about the work she does and maybe pick up some tips for surviving Yale with our sanity relatively intact.
Truth-Telling Isn’t Enough
David Fisher’s family reunions are unusual. Perhaps they’re even stranger than unusual – after all, how many people bond with their four siblings by taking them on a journey through Europe, searching for a sister rumored to have been separated at birth? Who, with their siblings in tow, retraces their father’s memoirs back to the camp where he labored during the Holocaust? And who, above all else, thinks it would be a good idea to bring along a camera?
Great Caesar dreams big
“I think we are ambitious people,” Parker says. “Dream big, dream boldly and jump at it. We think that if people live that way, they can live lives of integrity and” — he searches for a word — “consequence.”
Buzzwords with backing
From simply providing the physical space and amenities necessary for startups to grow – office space, in other words — General Assembly has expanded to offer a host of courses for aspiring entrepreneurs at locations across the globe, winning over $4 million in seed funding, and a spot among Forbes’ "Top 30 Under 30" in the process.
The Tailgate You’re Probably Not Invited To
When it comes to Harvard-Yale, even the tailgates are institutions.
This Saturday will mark the 40th time that Richard Sperry ’68 and Roger Cheever, Harvard ’67, tailgate The Game. The two friends have been tailgating the storied rivalry since 1972, and haven’t missed a game since.
To a Different Tune
Maybe the best thing about opening for the Yale Symphony Orchestra Halloween Show is that, for as long as our band stays together, we will be able to say that our first show sold out a 2,700-person auditorium in eight minutes.
Success, It Never Comes
At the end of the day, though, I know I’m not going to convince you to love something you didn’t. I’m not going to change the way a given song resonates in your brain, whether or not its waves and yours have the same tempo. That’s the whole point of music: if loving it could be reduced to a column-length argument, it would be boring. But I will close with a list of things I think about music. Which, I guess, is kind of what I’ve been doing this whole time.
“Anna” rolls Tolstoy with Tobacco
The ghostly images that play silently on a screen behind the cast of the Dramat’s “Anna in The Tropics,” which opened Thursday, are at first a mystery. The play is set in a Tampa cigar factory in 1929, and the shot and blurred frames of unidentified lovers seem a strange backdrop. Eventually the clips reveal themselves as scenes from an old film version of “Anna Karenina.” They parallel the onstage action just as the play draws on the novel, in an intricate but satisfying web of adaptation.
Being “that guy”
You’ve met me before. If you’ve ever been to a concert or listened to a live recording, you know who I am, and you have some opinion of me.
A Questionable Friend
The deaths at Electric Zoo were indicative of how the old music-and-drugs trope has evolved. The ever-increasing demand for stimulation that’s won hordes of fans for live dance music is also behind the new enthusiasm for Molly, which pairs well with the overwhelming stimulus of a dubstep set blasted through a weapons-grade speaker system. A new kind of music has found its new kind of drug.
Anti-Fling, Against Itself
Despite a strong lineup, an evening of live music, and — maybe most importantly — a free open bar, Anti-Fling was decidedly off the beaten path.
Verse-Chorus-Bridge to Nowhere
I’m sure that at this very moment, someone somewhere is writing a song that would move me to tears with its verse-chorus-bridge simplicity. Not because of it, but despite it. A great song is a great song, formulaic or not.