From an early age, music has always been a big part of his life. Surrounded by music from a young age, and especially inspired by his grandmother, Owen Barry '25 started drumming with chopsticks in restaurants to getting his own drum set. He’s been playing for a little over 10 years, having held drumsticks since the age of three. When he got his first drum set at five, Barry decided to start taking his musical passion more seriously. Owen currently plays in Studio Band, and is looking ahead to taking the next step into his musical career. 

**Who or what inspired you to start playing the drums?**

I’d say my grandma, definitely, was a huge inspiration because she was the musician in my family. She was a professional singer and started playing music for me when I was little. She was also the one to get me my first piano and drum set and became the one I looked to as I learned how to play. 

**What drew you to the drums?**

Although I play a little piano, I mostly stick to the drums as it’s what I enjoy most. I used to get chopsticks when I went to restaurants and would play them in the parks of New York City, where I grew up, before transitioning to drumsticks. I just enjoy the different sounds and beats I can make.

**What has been the most challenging song you’ve had to play and how did you overcome it?**

Right now I’m working on this Charles Mingus song — he was a famous bass player — and what makes it so difficult is the need to lock in with all the other musicians of my section. Since I play the drums I have to focus on what the bass player is doing, which has been hard because there are so many fluctuations in the piece’s tempo, but it’s sounding pretty good.

**What’s it like being a drummer in Studio Band?**

I’ve really enjoyed it. It was my goal since middle school and I was able to get in as a freshman. I enjoy the environment which has allowed me to meet new people and make long-lasting relationships that have stuck around even as people have headed to college. I think being able to make music with people is pretty cool.

**What’s your favorite thing about the band program at PHS? Can you share your favorite memory?**

PHS is obviously one of the best band programs in the country and the opportunities we get are amazing. I’d say being able to record an album and tour in London was definitely one of my favorite memories. Last year we won states in the National Jazz Festival, and sharing that with all the seniors that graduated was also really special.

**Where do you see yourself going with music after high school?**

I’ve gotten into a couple music schools and am debating which to choose. After that, I kinda just want to perform and maybe teach, but really focus on trying to tour and get into it professionally. That’s the dream.

**Do you have any tips for aspiring drummers?**

I’d say listen as much as you can and play as much as you can. The advice I always got was take any gig or any opportunity to play that you can. It doesn’t really matter whether it pays or not. You can learn a lot from listening to other people and trying to mimic what they are doing.

Owen Barry ’25 connects his past and future through music

The paintbrush brushes the canvas as lightly and familiarly as the hug between two reunited friends. The smell of paint wafts through the air, your mind, never silent, focused on the project at hand. The door creaks open, and the sound of heavy footsteps echo across the old floors. A voice announced,  “Honey, I’m home!” but unlike Frozone from the Incredibles, he is not looking for his super suit.
Alicia Berenson is a woman who seemed to be leading a successful and empowering life as a famous artist with her loving husband by her side. All seemed well and normal in Alicia’s life until, suddenly, a night after her husband, Gabriel, returned home from work, Alicia shoots her husband five times in his face and then refuses to speak again, leaving the audience in suspense as to why. “The Silent Patient” by Alex Michaelides takes place several years later, allowing the readers to witness the infamy that Alice gained due to her actions, becoming the talk of the town, especially amongst psychiatrists. A criminal psychotherapist, Theo Faber, enraptured by Alicia’s story, seized the opportunity to work with her. Through therapy sessions, Theo worked to coerce Alicia to speak once more, forever changing the trajectory of both their lives. 
Michaelides encapsulates the eeriness that comes in autumn, the spookiest season of the year, through the emotions and mystery that come with each flip of the page in his famed psychological thriller. His words and suspenseful writing style offer a rush of adrenaline, inviting you to turn the page. 
This book should be recommended to anyone seeking a brilliant psychological thriller to cozy up by during this chilly season. Whether you are an avid reader ready for this Rory Gilmore-esque season or someone who wants to get into reading, this book is a perfect introduction to thrillers. The fast-moving, constantly-thickening plot weaves a web of inquisition that only gradually unravels, slowly unveiling parts of Alicia’s past through her suspenseful diary entries. The skillfully written novel has swept up book lovers all over social media, having them second guessing themselves from cover to cover. 
The greatest takeaway from this can’t-put-down novel is how Michaelides is able to thoughtfully delve into the human mind and psychosis through the recounting of traumatic events. The line between sanity and madness is especially blurry during the book’s grand finale within its final few chapters.  Naturally, after closing this book’s back cover, one can only be left with awe as an unforgettable story of plot twists and shocking events lingers in their mind, completely challenging their own perception of emotions within the human psyche.

Savoring Silence: A Spooky October Review of Alex Michaelides’ The Silent Patient

Autumn’s leaves have dusted the ground, crunching beneath my shoe’s soles as a yellow bus fades into the distance. The air has gotten chilly as the season for knit sweaters, scarves, and winter jackets unfolds. Excited for the long weekend ahead, my walk home breaks into a run. Holed up in my room, wading through the mountain of homework at my desk, only the waft of sweet pumpkin rescues me from this strenuous affair. As the chilly air reminds me of the promise of falling leaves and freaky costumes in the month ahead, one thing that never fails to warm my heart is a plate of pumpkin cookies.
My most prominent memory of these cookies is how I first invented them. It was over Thanksgiving weekend when the issue of a near-expired can of pumpkin purée presented an opportunity for creativity. At that time, I was struck by a sudden desire to make macarons. What occurred then is the same as what leads to both great ideas and disaster: I combined both projects. Two failed attempts and a boatload of eggs later, I was finally satisfied with the batch I made as I stuck the shells into the oven.  
Fifteen minutes later, the delectable smell of pumpkin made it irresistible to not stand in front of the oven, counting down the seconds until I could pull the tray out. Somehow, the pumpkin-flavored macaron crackers tasted good! I was baffled at the result, and left without the desire to create a filling. So, they remained shells, or what they are now known as the Kondakindi family’s famous pumpkin cookies.
Pumpkin cookies, albeit a dessert with a common fall flavor choice, are now a staple comfort food in my household by the time fall arrives, especially as Thanksgiving turns the corner. Their golden edges, crumbly sugar-cookie-esque texture, and buttery yet flavorful taste provides the perfect dessert in autumn. Picture curling up with a good book by the windowsill, watching the last green leaves turn auburn, with a steaming cup of tea and pumpkin cookies beside you. What better way to enjoy the autumn day?

Chloe Zhao
It was late October, and I braced myself against the chilly air as I took a sip from my paper coffee cup. I was enlightened — the warm, rich coffee brought out all the notes of cinnamon and nutmeg sugar beautifully. I began to understand why the drink was so popular, especially among other teenage girls. I lowered my cup and glanced down at the warm, golden liquid filling it, regretfully recalling  all the years I had missed out on this delicious drink. 
The “I’m not like other girls” epidemic hit me when I was in kindergarten. Just one day on the playground, a girl decided that pink was no longer the best color, and that blue was. The reason? Pink was too girly. In a cascading effect, everyone else followed suit. Soon, I began rejecting the pink shirts and dresses my mom had picked out for me in the morning. My notebooks changed from pink and sparkly to blues and grays. I put away my pink plastic gem necklaces. All the other girls in my class followed. We were not like other girls. 
This mentality followed me throughout my elementary and middle school years, just now under a different packaging. The “basic white girl” stereotype was introduced, and it was understood that succumbing to it was undesirable. Ugg boots, Lululemon, knit hats, scarves, and iced coffees, specifically pumpkin spice lattes, were things to avoid because of their association to the stereotype. I followed these rules to avoid being “basic,” pushing away the pumpkin spice options that land on my menus every fall without ever trying them. 
However, as I went throughout my middle school years, I realized every attempt I made to avoid conforming to society simply followed a new adherence to the rules. If I wasn’t trying to fit in with the “basic” trends often seen on social media, I was then following the opinion of the girl on the playground. In either scenario, I was listening to what others thought was best, rather than what was actually best for me.
Now every fall, I happily run to the nearest coffee shop to order my pumpkin spice latte. Not to conform to anything, but just because I like how the drink tastes. Looking back on my previous actions, I feel silly depriving myself of things that I love just to conform to society.

Ruhee Hedge, CONTRIBUTING WRITER
Of all the perks of the fall season, the food has to be the most spectacular benefit. As the days get shorter and summer habits gradually fall out of play, we come to realize that fall is a time of both completion and transition. While the transition between summer and autumn is often a time of productivity, it is also a time of beauty and shedding of the old; the end of the growing season for crops in particular. Also known as the harvest season, autumn ushers in a time of celebration for many farming cultures as they gather their crops. This time of change and new ingredients is a staple of fall culture, and although there are many ways we can show our love for the season, mine has always been cooking in the kitchen with loved ones, preparing some of my favorite autumn delicacies. 
This season of autumn ushers in a feast for the senses, with an abundance of colors, scents, and textures. Since fall foods carry all these distinct traits, they create meaningful experiences for all. From trying out the new Starbucks fall drink menu to making our own cranberry jam, my friends and family all have our own traditions we practice every year that involve food. 
One of these traditions was going to a farm in our old town when it was open to the public every autumn. Some of my fondest childhood memories were spent running around in the pumpkin patches, playing hide-and-seek in the orchards, and, of course, making our own apple cider. The farm is also where I discovered apple cider doughnuts, and was immediately hooked. Through these experiences, I soon began to realize that the process of transforming typical fall ingredients into meals can be a way of appreciating the gifts of the season.. 
As a result of this newfound enjoyment, it became clear that fall foods in particular promote a sense of belonging. Every meal during this period of time tends to be hearty and comforting since it provides sustenance and warmth in preparation for the colder months ahead. This was especially prominent during several occasions in which my family and I would participate. During Diwali, which usually comes around in early November, many of our relatives would prepare savory snacks and dishes as a way of coming together and celebrating our gratitude towards each other. Diwali is a time of spiritual reflection and renewal, and many of the customs my family follow involve the sharing of food with others by inviting them to our place. This again embraces the idea of giving, pleasure, and finding light in the midst of darkness. As I’ve gotten older, I have come to realize how symbolic food is to our fall celebrations and how we can all stay appreciative during this seasonal transition

A Love Letter to a Fall Comfort Food

The dancer orchestrated her legs into the very first step: a plié. As her knees slowly bent into the step, the dancer’s spirits sang, and she felt confident in her skin, because even the simplest step felt that stunning. But it only took a few counts, not even five seconds into the class, for her teacher to yell across the room, “Suck in! Your stomach needs to be flat!” It was then that the euphoric feeling vanished.
   Although dance is beautiful for the viewer and can evoke great happiness in the dancer, deeply internalized body shaming of young women and misogyny are hidden beneath the layers of carefully perfected steps. This toxicity is most commonly rooted in the notion of perfection, an ideal present in all types of dance. Steps performed are meant to appear seamless, graceful, and easy to execute. To create this image, intense work is required in class and rehearsals. Sadly, this goal of being a perfect dancer can easily slip into a toxic message of body shaming and even harm. This aesthetic of the dancer body type is already very integrated into society, making it hard to notice at times, even though it is in our subconscious. It especially doesn’t help that when dance is shown to the public, the thin dancer with long legs is the one shown off for the purpose of the traditional dance aesthetic, excluding and isolating all other body types that make up the dance community. 
   The perfect ballet dancer stretches their legs and points their feet as if to make infinite extensions. They turnout, lift their leg above their head, and do many other actions that are unnatural for the human body, all while maintaining proper form. But these long lines and straight stature that comprise a proper ballet physique can easily translate into an idealized slim body type. Often, teachers tell students to suck in their stomach in order to create long positions, sometimes even commenting, “I can see your lunch.” Although this comment may not always be intended to be harmful, it is another example of body shaming that has been utilized so frequently it has become an ordinary act. 
   To achieve this ideal physique that is encouraged through body shaming, it is not uncommon for dancers to be compelled by the dance world and society in general to harmfully restrict their diets. Many teachers encourage harmful diets and exhibit favoritism towards a specific body type by giving lead roles to students with that body type. At more intense schools, some dancers have even been explicitly told they need to lose weight in order to be in a performance or to continue dancing at their school. Women who do not fit into these norms may develop insecurities and sentiments of discontent within themselves, which can contribute to the development of eating disorders and other mental health difficulties. This strain on a dancer’s health continues in the dance studio, where they frequently overwork themselves and often are in risk of a back, ankle, or foot injury in order to please their teacher’s expectations. While it would be unfair to say that male dancers don’t experience the same harmful body shaming, female dancers are more inclined to experience it because of the additional sexualization of women by directors and in the stories of the dance itself.
   One other factor that has contributed to the intense weight of body image in the dance industry is the continuous sexualization of women and feminine bodies. Providing that most storylines used in performances were written by men generations ago, they follow a very old-fashioned and stigmatized portrayal of women and their role in society. In ballets, women are often portrayed as very feminine to attract men in stories with their looks. This requires women to wear traditionally seductive clothing, act very flirtatious, and generally appeal to the male gaze. For instance, the ballet “Le Corsaire’’ builds on the stereotypes of the roles of women by centering around a pirate named Conrad who falls in love with Medora, a woman who belongs to a slave holder (who sells many other slave girls for a living). Similar to almost all other female leads in ballets, she is seen as a very beautiful figure who attracts many men. Additionally, despite being a powerful and emotional love story, Juliet in “Romeo and Juliet” is only thirteen years old and already expected by those around her to find a husband, further enabling the sexualization of young girls. In more historic or cultural dance forms and performances, such as Bharatnatyam, the female characters are often depicted playing the role of a submissive and doting wife or mother who churns butter or plays in a river. Furthermore, Hindu goddesses, who are incredibly powerful beings, are rarely portrayed in performances of Bharatnatyam, while the male deities are frequently displayed. This same idea of male characters being detailed throughout the play as heroic and adventurous is prevalent in all styles of dance. Although dance can empower women and their incredible abilities, parts of it are rooted in the old ideology of making the female body move in a way that attracts men, which is a practice that unfortunately remains established in dance today. 
   Traditional and cultural beliefs and values also play an essential role in propagating the presence of self-shaming views in dance, especially cultural forms of this art. Dances performed in Bharatanatyam and other classical Indian dance styles, for example, entail the recreation of key mythological events as well as the expression of Hindu religious stories and spiritual beliefs. Historically, Bharatnatyam was a genre of dance that could only be performed in a temple by Devadasis, women well-versed in dance and dedicated to performing to the gods and goddesses of the temple. As the dance form has passed down from dance teacher to dancer for generations, historical gender biases are common, even in modern-day performances.
   All these unrealistic and strict ideas of what a female dancer should look or act like takes away from the natural beauty of all dancers not only in appearance, but also in esteem. For instance, beauty stereotypes for women in Bharatnatyam include the promotion of colorism and Western beauty standards, something which can deeply harm the way a dancer without Western traits perceives herself. Dance is a stunning visual artform that relies on the originality of each performance and what the dancers bring to the stage to draw in the audience. If all dancers looked identical — like puppets being pulled on strings rather than outstanding human individuals who put their heart and soul into their performances — this artform would lose the emotional element that enhances even the most flawless of routines.
   Dance is a beautiful artform and sport, so dancers should be able to enjoy it without any body shaming or misogyny. This makes it increasingly important for dancers and non-dancers alike to speak up about these issues. In the end, dance is meant to be liberating, and it’s extremely disappointing that old and harmful requirements of a young female dancer’s body end up holding it back from all the amazing possibilities of what it could evolve into. Dance is already extraordinary, so a future without the toxicity that suppresses young female dancers would further the artform’s excellence, encourage more to explore its industry, and most importantly, promote a healthy atmosphere available to all. 

The Tower

Raya Kondakindi's Work

The Tower