It is always interesting to see who history chooses to do something important. Whether it be invention, leadership, or artistic work, history has a way of dropping the responsibility to change the world into the laps of certain individuals who have a voice.
The novels assigned to students in American English classes throughout grade school are often labeled “classics” such as “Of Mice and Men,” “The Great Gatsby,” “Pride and Prejudice,” etc. Rarely do students understand the essence of the story they are assigned, nor do they care enough to venture into anything other than the Sparknotes summary. I know this because I was one of those students, feigning apathy in the face of yet another classic slammed down on our desks.
The personal lives of celebrities will eternally be the subject of great curiosity for the majority of humanity who spend their lives out of the spotlight. For those under it, their existence is poked and prodded from the removed medium of tabloids and reality television. Regardless of whether the information is true or false, people of all identities find themselves snagging the latest issue of People at the grocery store checkout counter. Monumental events in a celebrity's life, such as a wedding or a fiftieth birthday celebration, have a tendency to be more heavily guarded from the press. This results in a hyper fixation on the event by the press as speculative articles flow alongside an equal number of stories about pathetic paparazzi who broke their leg trying to jump a ten-foot tall fence so they could snap Kim Kardashian saying, “I do!” on camera.
Sculpture is an entirely different and unique art form; it is tangible and interactive, and almost begs to be touched. Whenever I am strolling through an exhibition and come across a sculpture, I have the sudden urge to touch the surface of it to feel the texture of the piece. I resist this urge and observe from afar, like any dignified museum-goer, but it always makes me wonder why human beings feel the need to respond physically to an art form.
The voice is a muscle. It can be trained to project louder, or softer, in an array of tones and ranges. Though a song is typically composed of multiple moving parts, the voice is the leading instrument that holds it all together. For Sinead Harnett, the voice is everything.