(Dr. Champagne with his dog, Lena!)
Job Title:
Professor of English
Degree(s):
BA Thomas Hunter Honors Program, Hunter College; MA Cinema Studies New York University; Ph D English the University of Pittsburgh
Hometown:
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Courses taught:
Composition, Postcolonial literature, Identity in World Literature, Introduction to Film, Film Theory, Popular Culture, Philosophy of Love and Sex
Involvement on campus:
For years, I was the advisor to Trigon. I’ve also advised one of the sororities. These days, my involvement on campus tends to be on committees.
How do you define good teaching?/Describe your teaching style?
I consider myself a teacher of reading and writing. Good teaching requires engaging students in a conversation about the material we are studying, whether it is a film, a poem, or a work of nonfiction. I try always to help students strengthen their interpretation of the work we are exploring. This requires them first to produce an interpretation — typically, in a brief response paper or even aloud in class. You cannot pass my classes and not do the assigned reading, as you will be called upon to talk about what you’ve read. Once I hear the interpretation, I try to work with the student by asking questions like “Where in the book do you see this?” or “What is the significance of what you have noticed? Why does it matter?” I also hope to get other students involved in the discussion. People aren’t always accustomed to talking about ideas, so I remind students that we can begin with three basic responses: when someone says something, you can either agree, disagree, or ask for clarification. The third option is typically the most helpful to the student being questioned, but sometimes disagreeing strongly with someone else’s position allows the person posing the question to think more carefully about his or her own interpretations. In terms of agreeing, I urge students to add to the conversation rather than simply agree. Bring in more evidence to support the other person’s argument. The third option is really the most productive but also the most difficult, as it requires us to really listen to one another and work hard to make ourselves understood. I try to warn students that it is my job to challenge their thinking, and while this might not always be “fun,” it can be rewarding.
Do you have a favorite class that you teach at Behrend and why?
The Philosophy of Love and Sex class is always fascinating. The material itself is challenging, and students come into the class with a very profound investment in thinking about their own relationships to love and sex. It is a tough class to teach, as we can all feel a bit fractured discussing such deeply personal material, even when we are not talking about our own experiences. Arguing with someone over the meaning of love is sometimes scary, as you feel you are exposing some of your most deeply held beliefs.
Around campus, you’re known for your great sense of style, how did -this is my fault, I didn’t finish my question but his answer is more than perfect-
Well, I’m not sure what the rest of the question is, but here’s what I want to say: When I was in the fourth grade, a mean girl told me that my clothes did not match. For the next few years or so, I restricted my entire wardrobe to blue and brown, so as not to draw attention to myself. Then I met a friend who had an amazing sense of style. It was the seventies, and she was into glitter rock, and she had glittery fingernails and wore platform shoes and didn’t wear a bra! And so little by little I started experimenting. I was subject to a series of make-overs by several different friends. All of that went on hold when I was a poor Ph D student. And when I interviewed for my job at Behrend, I dressed as what my boss at the time said looked like a banker! But shortly after I started my job here, I began traveling to Europe, first to Paris, and then to several different cities in Italy. And I loved European clothes. They are well made, they last forever, and Italians in particular are not afraid of color! So now, I buy all of my clothes in Europe. I literally have a Valentino suit I bought in 2002. Almost everything I buy is anywhere from 30 to 90 percent off, as the sales in Europe, which occur at two distinct times of the year, tend to empty out a previous season’s collection. I have always loved painting but do not have any talent whatsoever in that direction, so dressing for me is a way of painting. My favorite designer is Etro, because, as one student once said to me about my own wardrobe, their clothes are so mismatched that they actually match. You just sort of grab things out of your closet, throw them on, and then tell people who make snide remarks (as my own mom and sister sometimes do) that Etro says it all goes, and who are they to question a designer from Milan?!
You’re also known for teaching a class that some might say is a little controversial -Philosophy of Love and Sex. Can you tell us what led you to want to teach this course?
Well, my own research has always been concerned with the portrayal of sex and love in film and literature, and so the class seemed a natural fit between my research interests and the course material. For a variety of intellectual and autobiographical reasons, I have always been fascinated by love and sex, what they demand of us, what we want from them.
What made you interested in working in queer theory/gender and sexuality studies?
I was trained at a time when scholars were just beginning to produce some very significant works on the subject of gender and sexuality, and I found this work interesting and challenging. Gender has always been an issue for me, as according to other people, I never seemed to be able to get it right. And I have always felt a deep sense of social responsibility to women, probably because my earliest and closest friendships were with girls.
What’s the challenging part of teaching?
I am a somewhat shy person, and I never wanted to be a policeman or a parent. So I am very uncomfortable when students behave inappropriately in class. I want very much for us all to be simply a group of adults discussing ideas that interest them. Having to get on people’s cases for being late, for talking while other people are talking, for being on their phones, it is emotionally draining and embarrassing, and I am not always good at responding directly. As a kid, I had a smart mouth. It was a way for a short, nerdy, weird kid to defend himself. And so if I am uncomfortable, I am likely to resort to sarcasm and then feel irritated that I responded in this way.
Why did you decide to take a sabbatical year?
I am working on a book on a circle of Italian painters and writers. These men were gay before that word existed, and at a time when it really was not safe to be so. While homosexuality was not against the law in fascist period Italy (1922 to the 1945 or so), one could be sent into internal political confinement, literally banished to prison on a deserted island in the south. And even worse for some men was the public shame. Yet, amidst all of this sexual and political repression — in the fascist years, Mussolini was a dictator, there was no freedom of the press, political opposition was against the law, censorship and spying on one’s neighbors was common — these men somehow managed to survive and work. Yet they were not what I would call admirable. I have always been interested in the political responsibilities of the artist, and these men did not oppose the oppressive government. In fact, they stayed silent over some of Mussolini’s worse crimes, like the invasion of Ethiopia (where the Italian army used poison gas,) and the 1938 passing of the laws that discriminated against the Jews. So I am interested in how they understood their own sexuality and gender, and what attitudes they expressed towards misogyny, racism, and anti-Semitism.
Could you tell us a little bit about your literary work?
I started writing fiction at a young age and finished my first novel while an undergraduate. As a kid, I loved reading. (My other interests were playing the piano and cooking, so of course I was often teased.) Yet I had very strong convictions that art must be more than self expression. So while my fiction, poetry, and essays are often rooted in my own experience, I always work to make the language as beautiful and effective as I can. I don’t write a great deal of literary work because it requires so much care and attention to the language. And this work tends also to explore the meaning of love and sex.
What are one of the biggest obstacles you’ve faced as a writer?
Everyone who writes has to face his or her own insecurities, and those are always an obstacle. You have to be disciplined enough to write and revise like a maniac and yet turn off the voice inside that is telling you “You’re no good, and no one is going to want to read this anyway.” And good writing takes lots of time.
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Could you tell us about your recent work: Italian Masculinity as Queer Melodrama: Caravaggio, Puccini, Contemporary Cinema?
This book is an attempt to think about melodrama, which began as a style of theater around the time of the French Revolution (though actually in the book I date it to Counter-Reformation Italy), and the way Italian masculinity has historically been understood as melodramatic — bigger than life, emotionally effusive. Critics argue that melodrama is born when religious faith is faltering. People still believed in a moral universe, but they were not so sure that God was in charge of it. So melodrama is an artistic form that seeks out this moral universe or hopes to find it beneath the surface of the everyday. It’s a struggle, and that’s why melodrama tends to be over the top, and melodrama frequently explores and even rails against the fact that life is not always just or fair. The artists I write about are all Italian men whose work is considered melodramatic, and I look at how they used melodrama to explore gender and sexuality. Caravaggio is a kind of bad boy, outlaw painter. Puccini wrote some of the most beautiful operas in the Western tradition. In the film chapter, I write about some recent Italian works.
How have your past experiences shaped you?
I was lucky enough to have teachers who took a personal interest in me and my work. When I was bored in school, they gave of their time and energy to come up with special projects for me. They encouraged me to dream big, and I owe them a great deal. Also, my parents have always been supportive of me, both personally and professionally. They never tried to push me into a safe career choice, and they are extremely proud of me, even if my work is a bit esoteric for them to read. (Neither of my parents graduated from college.) I came from a big family — I have two brothers and three sisters — and that experience shapes you in ways you do not even realize. In terms of more recently, I lost my best friend when he was just forty five or so. It was devastating. He had struggled for many years with drug addiction. He hit rock bottom, going from working as a recruiter for a major employer to sweeping floors at the YMCA (literally). He got clean and sober and was doing well, and then he died suddenly. His body just never recovered. His death changed my attitude about life, both for the better and the worse. I was really angry at the universe for quite a long time, but I want to honor his memory by living as fully and responsibly as I can. Work hard, play hard.
Do you have any advice for Behrend students?
Learn how to be passionate about whatever you are studying. Find a way to care. Not only will you enjoy the class more; you will produce better work and get better grades. It’s a brain thing; the more we want to be understood, for example, the clearer our writing will be. Learn how to be intellectually curious. It’s not the teacher’s job to make the work interesting for you; it’s your job to find your passion. And dream big! There is a tremendously exciting world out there, but it isn’t going to come to you; you have to take responsibility for your own future.
Thank you for the woderful interview Dr. Champagne! HCXO