Rammstein concert, an amazing experience design

Above: A photo I had taken of Rammstein from the third balcony at the ACC

On May 8th, 2011, I went to the Air Canada to see Rammstein in concert; a German Industrial Metal band known for their "shock-rock" and exhilarating live performances. However what I imagined to be "shock-rock" for this band did not even come close to what I had experience - it was more like a "shock-rock opera," Their use of theatriuc aesthetics such as props, pyrotechnics, dramatic lighting and lasers added fuel to the intensity of their heavy metal sound. Even the features of the stage was designed to move around and transform into different futuristic, war zone-like scenes as the songs changed. Flame torches, high risers, stunts and flamboyant costumes gave it a feeling of an over the top, hardcore metal fantasy, making it feel surreal and exciting for the audience. A show for the senses, the band used these elements to create an interactive and accessible experience for the crowd, making them feel as if they are apart of this heavy metal dreamscape. For example, the keyboardist would get involved with the crowd and there was a time where he brought out an inflatable boat and ore and rowed himself in a sea of fans. In one number, the lead singer brought out this huge canon that shot foam out into the mosh pit. Throughout the whole concert, blazes of heat could be felt by people as far back as the balconies whenever they were set off, and clouds of smoke hovered over the stadium. As for the Ockham's razor, I would say the technical effects were complex, but the way the stage was designed to move around during the performance made it look natural and fluid rather than an interruption. What I found most interesting was the apeal for their performance rather than the preference of them as a band. I knew quite a few people who entered the concert that were unfamiliar with Rammstein, let alone their music, but they all came out loving the show because of their intense performance using pyrotechnics and other amazing sensory features. For this band, theatrics are not just the icing on the cake, but a stronghold of their image and music.

The Tale of Peter Tibbar Part 3

Part 3


Peter sat in the living room trying to do his homework while his three younger sisters argued over their dolls. "Mindy!! Let go it's my turn to play with Barbie!" The little girl shouts as she tries to pull her doll away from her sister. "Peter! Peter! Mindy and Carmen are fighting!!" The youngest sister calls to him.

Peter couldn't stand it any longer. "Stop your hollering! All of you!!" Peter yells at the girls. The sisters froze and gave him guilty looks. "Now, I'm just going out for a bit to get my soccer ball back, ok? I'll be right back, so just stay put." Peter puts his blue jacket and leaves the apartment while locking the door.

Wandering around in the parking lot, Peter heads towards his neighbour's wooden fence. He peered his head over to see if he could spot his ball. It was right in the garden, sitting on top of the cabbage patch. However, getting the ball wouldn't be as simple as one would think. This was Mr. McGregar's garden, and he never took lightly to vegetable thieves such as Peter. The last time he had gone into Mr. McGregor's garden, he had his leg torn by his old dog. Since then, his mother never left him off his case.

However, the lights were turned off and his car wasn't in the drive way either. Now was the perfect time to get his ball back. Peter reached his arms on top of the fence and lifted himself up. Landing on the ground, he accidentally squashed one of Mr. McGregor's tomatoes plants. Ignoring the red splats covered on his pant legs, Peter quietly sneaked into the cabbage patch and grabbed his soccer ball. He looked around the garden for a bit. It was a lot bigger than he expected. "Well, I've got my ball back," He thought to himself, "But it would be ashamed to leave all these vegetables behind while the old grouch is gone. After all, we hardly have any food in the house now a days." Peter scanned the area again just to make sure no one was there to see him, then he quickly plucked a few tomatoes and cradled it in his jacket. A row of radishes caught his eye. "Ohh! My favourite!" He said as he picked them from the ground. "I'll just tell mom that I found the twenty and went grocery shopping..."

Pretty soon, Peter had picked practically every kind of vegetable in the garden. His jacket was weighed heavily with onions, tomatoes, radishes and cucumbers. "Man, this is heavy!" He sighed. "I'll have to leave in from the front gate with these." Peter headed towards the wooden gate, however as soon as he went to open the latch, he met the gaze of a pair of black eyes and sharp teeth. It was Mr. McGregor's dog. He started barking furiously at Peter. Before he could even tell it to shut up, he saw old Mr. McGregor walking towards the back yard.

"Hey!! What are you doing in there, you varmint??!"

The tale of Peter Tibbar Part 2 (modern Peter Rabbit)

The Tale of Peter Tibbar

Part II

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and Peter was out playing soccer with his friend, Benjamin in back parking lot of their apartment building. "Ha! In your face!" Benjamin boasts as he scores a goal on Peter, striking the ball at the garbage bins. Peter picks up the ball and grins. "A lucky shot. You better go long for this one!" Peter throws the soccer ball in front of him and kicks it hard with the tip of his foot. "Oh, crap!" Peter shouts. The ball went a little further than he expected, flying above of the cars, over top of the fence and into the back yard of a small house beside the parking lot.

"You're getting that!" Benjamin called over to him. "Ain't no way I'm going into that old grouches yard. Peter sighed, "Fine, fine." Just as he was about to climb the fence, Peter's mother enters the parking lot. "Peter! A word, please!"

Peter rolled his eyes, "Alright, I'm coming." running up to her, he could see she wasn't in a good mood.

"Where's the twenty dollars you promised me." She demands, crossing her arms. "Could we talk about this later, I'm busy..." He said, shifting his eyes. "Excuse me?" His mother raised her voice, "I told you I had to go shopping tonight, our fridge has been empty for a week! Now, what did you do with your money?"

Peter stared at the ground. "I...I lost it. It was an accident!" His mother glared at him. "I can't believe you!" She yelled loud enough for the neighbours to hear. "You know, if you had a job and weren't wasting your time goofing off, we would have money in the house!" His mother gave a sigh and placed her hand over her face. "Ok....well, do you have a five on you?" Peter reached into his pocket and fished for his five dollar bill. He slowly handed it to her, and she grabbed it out of his hand. "This is enough for a loaf of bread at least. Now do me another favor at least and look after your sisters while I'm gone. I won't be long." Peter nodded at his mother, still looking at the ground. His mother makes her way onto the sidewalk. "And make sure they do their homework."

Benjamin walks up to Peter. "Er, sorry to hear that, Pete. I'll see you later, then. Good luck getting your ball back." Without another word, Peter waves good bye to his friend and miserably enters the apartment building.

The tale of Peter Tibbar

Purpose: To interpret an urban spin off of peter the Rabbit, portraying Peter as a young teen living in poverty. (Tibbar is Rabbit spelled backwards)



Peter lay on his bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. It was almost seven o'clock in the morning, though he hadn't slept a wink that night. His eyelids were heavy yet his body felt full of adrenalin. All that had been running through his head was his encounter with Mr. McGregor and his menacing dog. How could he have been so stupid?

"Peter!! Get up already!" His mother banged on his door. Peter groaned. He did not want to get up at all knowing that he'd have to pass Mr. McGregor's house while taking his sisters to school. "It'll be fine." He assured himself. "At least it was dark enough that he didn't notice me." He got up from his bed and put a fresh set of cloths. He reached for his blue jacket which was normally in his closet, but it wasn't there. "Where the heck is--" Then it hit him. "Oh...Crap!" He had left his jacket behind after it got caught on Mr. McGregor's fence.

Spring cross word poem

A wakening
P rosperous
R ain, rain, more rain
I nviting
L ush



M erriment and celebration
A nimals mate and nurture young
Youthful

Spring....

Hidden voice (poem)

Something's stuck down there,
Lurking in my gut,
But I cannot find it.

It's brewing beneath me,
Deep inside my body,
But I cannot harness it.

I want to shove my hand down
And grab it with my fingers
But I'm afraid it'll slip through

I want to shout at the top of my lungs
And wave it around
But I'm afraid of what others will see

I want to show you,
I want to show everyone my voice
But all it does is echoe

My voice...
My voice...

Old, but not worn out

As I was at the hospital with my aunt while visiting my grandma, I met old man who was curiously wandering the hallways, greeting everyone he met. He was slightly short, bald, I think he was Tibetan, but I swear he had the presence of the Dali Lama. Despite he was in a hospital, he smiled sincerely and said hello to my aunt and I. His eyes lit up as he told us that it was his last day in the hospital and that he would be going home the next day. He was just beaming with joy, that it made me feel happy as well.

He seemed to be spreading it to everyone else where ever he went! As he walked further down the hall, he saw a food tray lying on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, usually you would expect old men like him to cringe bending their backs forward, but he did so easily. The nurse came down the hall, pushing a trolley with dinner trays stacked high, thanking him as he tried to place the tray over top of the piles. "My mother use to tell me that there's always a second person to help." he said to her as he went on his tippy toes to reach the pile that was twice his height. I went over to help him and placed the tray on top of the stack. He grinned and thanked me. I couldn't help but smile back. it was contagious!

Then he decided to walk into one of the other patient's room. "Hello! Do you need any help?" He asked one visitor sitting in a chair by the hospital bed. I was outside of the room, I could hear him talking and laughing heartily. He had a pretty booming voice for such a small person. So full of life. After talking with the visitor, he went into the next room to great the other patients! He was just a sweet man. You don't see many people around like him these days. Despite the fact that he had probably gone through a lot, he seemed so selfless. He was happy he was going back home to his folks and was trying to give hope to everyone else by spreading his kindness. I admire that about people, but at the same time I feel ashamed at how selfish I can be at times. I hope that one day I will be as light-hearted and grateful about life as him.