Author: Alexandria Strother

Growing up, I hated the basement. My mother would often send me to the pantry and, unwilling to admit I was scared, I would creep slowly down the stairs, flick on the lights, and close the door on myself as I rummaged through the pantry. Once I had found the requested item I would peek my head out of the door and bolt as fast as I could back up the stairs, back to the kitchen, back to my mom and back to safety. This process was almost immediately repeated as my mother knowingly would ask “Did you turn off the light?”

As we grow older childhood fears fade away as logic and reason replace mystery and uncertainty. Yet as we outgrow childhood fears new ones take their place. The boggie man is not a dark shapeless creature hiding in your closet, but ISIS will behead or burn you alive if somehow you end up their hostage. The boy wearing a Halloween mask is not a monster like you thought, but he may be contagious with measles. And while the mere sight of a spider used to make you cry, the termites which could infect your house eat away the largest investment you will ever make.

These adult fears cannot be easily reasoned away. Speaking practically, there is very little that one 21 year old can do about ISIS or the measles outbreak. Here is where I think the appeal of reality Tv comes from.

Tv, in general, is a mindless indulgence which helps us relax after a busy day of work or classes. The news is a sharp reminder of reality, exploiting our fears by sensationalizing the news and prodding our sense of responsibility. Dramas often explore the subjects of our fears making the possibility of being kidnapped by supposed terrorists (Scandal) or murdered by a crazy neighbor for a coincidence beyond your control (choose any crime show, NCIS, Castle, Law and Order etc.) seem more and more likely. Yet, when we turn to comedies the humor is based upon coincidence and situations which seem beyond our acceptable threshold of possible within the context of an “average” day.

Here is where reality Tv steps in. Real enough to seem like an average day in their lives, the problems which the actors(?)/contestants/people face are trivial in comparison to the real world problems which affect our daily lives. From stolen boyfriends to wearing the same dress to a party, these conflicts provide the viewer with enough drama to entertain without being substantial enough provoke thought or self reflection.

While our fears may never be as simple as they were in our childhood, reality Tv provides us with a temporary respite from the world where the conflicts are sometimes irrational but always understandable and the consequences aren’t dire.

On the last Tuesday of the month, the Ark hosts Take a Chance Tuesday. This event allows the general public to risk attending a concert of a relatively unknown artist without the commitment of a ticket and the price of admission. While this event has appeared on my calendar for at least a year now, I had yet to attend until I discovered that on January 27 Elle Casazza would be playing.

Though Elle Casazza (or Beth as I know her) went to the same high school as me, we first got to know each other when we were counselors for Choir Camp at Interlochen. After graduating from Chicago College of Performing Arts with a degree in Vocal Jazz, Beth became Elle and she has been playing gigs around the Chicago area ever since. For two summers I have desperately tried to see her perform – a seemingly simple task as I was living in the same city as her. The first summer I failed because somehow ever single gig turned out to 21+ and I was solidly 20 years old. Last summer I just failed. Either the gig was out in the suburbs or I already had plans or none of my friends wanted to go with me, so I missed out on ever single concert, and there were a lot of them! So when I received a notification that Elle Casazza would be performing in Ann Arbor I knew I had to be there.

Tuesday night I was there. 2nd row front and center waiting to hear the music I had been trying to hear for almost 2 years now. I didn’t know what to expect. Yes, her recordings were good. She has a good voice and good stage presence. But what worried me was the cliché “it” factor that prevents everyone in the room from taking their eyes off of you; that thing that differentiates between good and great, and which makes a live performance rife with flaws more powerful than a pristine recording.

Turns out I worried for nothing (would I really be writing about her now if it had been terrible? Or average? Or good but not great?). Elle Casazza is one of those rare artists whose recordings, while good, pale in comparison to her live performance. With an infectious smile and soulful voice she is the definition of stage presence with the musical chops to back it up.

From last night I learned two things: first, there is no excuse for me to not see Elle Casazza perform this summer when I am back in Chicago. Second, if this is the quality of the free monthly concerts at the Ark, I need to start making my attendance a priority.

I have never been good at saying no. Whether it has been to a second helping of chocolate cake or to a role in a “low commitment” show, I always end up end up feigning remorse and replying with a resounding yes. My capacity for always saying yes has given me numerous exceptional opportunities but it has also resulted in 18 credit semesters while working 2 jobs, performing in 5 shows and 1 full length film. Somehow, with all the craziness of my schedule, I managed 8 hours of sleep (almost) every night and the illusion of a social life.

Lots of people think I am crazy for doing as much as I do, but every now and then, I meet someone who gets it. Someone who isn’t just impressed by my time management skills but understands that my quest to become a true Renaissance woman has a greater purpose than simply a check mark on my list of life goals. Last night I met one of those people.

Yesterday night I had a coaching (musical rehearsal with pianist trained to work in a collaborative role) with an extremely respected and experienced pianist to prepare for a concert that I am singing in tonight. As we worked, we came upon the subject of musicality and expression, and how so many young singers lack a connection to the text or the ability to express that connection, obscuring the true beauty of the piece with a pretty melodic line that holds no meaning for them or the audience.

Her frustration with the modern student of classical music was this: that we all too often fall into this little black box where Beethoven is king, our loyalty to our teacher is unquestionable and we never bother to look outside our classical world to see and experience things “that won’t help our careers”. What she said the students don’t realize is that those things that don’t directly help or hurt their career colors who they are as a person and as a musician; that the difference between someone who sings a pretty melodic line and someone who connects with the audience are the experiences that they have had outside that little black box. So perhaps my experience in an oil refinery or pageants won’t be my stepping stone to the MET, but they color who I am and the music that I make every day which is enough to keep me saying yes to each and every opportunity.

It seems that as soon as one turns 14, exits middle school and enters high school there is never enough time. With the stress of APUSH, Chemistry, and Calculus constantly looming, your life becomes filled with assigned readings and problem sets so that in your few moments of peace you neither have the ability or desire to do anything but take a moment to finally breathe.

Therein lies the beauty of summer vacation. In summer you have time to earn minimum wage at the local pizza shop, see your friends and watch enough TV to turn your brain to mush. During the school year there is never enough time, but during summer you have all the time in the world.

Before high school, I devoured books, but once freshmen year started I stopped reading entirely unless it was for class. Even worse, some of the assigned reading was expedited by the use of Sparknotes and Wikipedia. So the summer after freshmen year I started a tradition, one which I have honored every summer until now (my senior year of college). Every May I choose two books, two classics, and read them over the summer. While it may not seem like the largest commitment I could make, I always seem to choose the thickest books available and having never liked an English class which I have taken, it is a rather impressive feat for me.

From Don Quixote to Crime and Punishment I have loved my tradition but this past summer (2014) I couldn’t bear to finish my second book, The Portrait of a Lady. The summer of 2013 I had a girly summer where I picked two classic romance novels – Madame Bovary and Gone with the Wind (insert groan here). Madame Bovary was first and I absolutely hated it. Not for the writing, but because of the main character, Emma Bovary, who consistently whined about her boring life and did nothing to “fix it” but have an affair and ruin her husband’s life. So when Scarlet O’Hara appeared on the pages of Gone with the Wind I was hooked. Here was a girl who went after what she wanted and did not allow social niceties to stop her. SPOILER ALERT So when things did not work out as planned in the final pages of the book, I was angry. Finally I had found a character I related to, liked and respected and after a 1,200 page investment in her she ends up miserable? I was not happy. This caused Isabel Archer’s appearance in The Portrait of a Lady not to be exciting, rather scary. Scary because I worried that her free thinking would lead to her demise and that I would end my summer disappointed once more in a tradition which I had grown to love. Because of that, the book remains lying on my desk with the bookmark dangerously close to the end. Maybe some night I will find the courage to finish it. Or maybe May will come and I will find a book that does not have a strong willed, relatable, female protagonist.

For many young adults, New Year’s Eve is a fun night out with friends filled with booze, cold hands and an anticlimactic countdown to midnight where they may or may not kiss a stranger under conveniently placed mistletoe. This year I spent my New Year’s Eve at home hanging out with my parents toasting in the new year with some sparkling apple juice and watching Kathy Griffin and Anderson Copper awkwardly interact on CNN with a morbid fascination. As my dad flipped through the channels we stumbled upon Idina Menzel’s performance of Frozen’s Let it go (for those of you who have not seen it watch the link below, the money note is at 0:16).

As I heard her struggle, I cringed. I know what it is like to be on stage and have a note not go your way, yet I tried my best to trust in her technique and waited for the epic Eb believing that she could recover from one or two bad notes. Unfortunately, that note didn’t go much better. In fact, it went much worse.

After my dad changed the channel I couldn’t help but wonder if I was simply being too critical or if everyone else would notice what I considered an egregious error, and if they did, I worried about what horrible things the internet would shortly be saying about the immensely talented Idina Menzel.

Of course the internet exploded with vicious comments and so on her Twitter account Idina Menzel posted the following response:

In one way, I agree with what she says. Yet in another, much bigger way, I have a huge problem with her definition of success.

Most musicians would agree that in a performance there are more important things than the pitches and rhythms that appear on the page, it’s about making music and connecting with the audience through what is written on the page by making it real. Yet, correct pitches and rhythms must be there, otherwise the audience is pulled out of the story as they cringe and turn to their friend asking “Did you hear that? What was that?”.

I recognize that the performance was not under ideal conditions, but she accepted the job knowing that it would be exceedingly cold and the danger of a major vocal flub on such a demanding piece. Still, I do not hold it against her. What bothers me is the percentage she used.

In live theatre, there will never be a perfect performance. Notes will be botched and you have to move on. If you are lucky, the audience doesn’t notice. If they do, by the end of the performance they will probably forget about it because you will have sung so many good notes throughout the show you will erase the unpleasant memory. While one or two, and maybe even ten or fifteen botched notes can be forgiven in a performance, using Idina Menzel’s math of 3 million notes in musical and success being getting 75% of them right she would consider getting 750,000 notes wrong a successful performance. To me, that is horrifying number.

In school 75% is a C. In the engineering world 75% accuracy in your calculations means your product will not work and someone could end up hurt or worse. I believe that in music it is the same way. One or two notes can be forgiven, but not 25% of them.

The notes Idina Menzel sang on New Year’s Eve were just a few of the millions of notes she will sing in her lifetime so we can, and will, forgive them as the memories are replaced by new, better ones in performances yet to come. But it is not right to pretend that her New Year’s Eve performance was a successful one – because if that is considered success in music, I may start avoiding live productions.

Before August 9th, few people outside of Missouri knew about the suburb of St. Louis called Ferguson. Yet with the shooting of Michael Brown Jr. by police officer Darren Wilson, this suburb of 21,000 was thrust into the international spotlight reinvigorating the national conversation on race. As mostly peaceful protests take place in Ferguson, Chicago, New York, Seattle and the Bay area, people have taken the streets, internet, and national television to share their thoughts on the grand jury’s decision not to indict Darren Wilson.

One such peaceful protest occurred on Sunday when NFL players Cook, Austin, Bailey, Britt, and Givens came out during pregame introductions with their arms raised in the “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” gesture. That evening the St. Louis Police Officer’s Association requested the NFL to discipline the Ram players who participated in that protest. While the NFL has declined the request, questions of the appropriateness of this very public protest have been raised.

In the context of modern society, the players are both athletes and entertainers. While their venue is a football stadium broadcast directly to millions of TVs every Sunday, they perform the same basic function of traditional entertainers: to hold the attention of their audience with something amusing or diverting. Many entertainers have come out in support of various causes, bringing attention to their causes at their performance venue before or even during a performance without detracting from the experience. At a performance at Hill Auditorium in 2011 Audra McDonald interrupted the performance to speak about marriage equality and anti-bullying. Was there any outcry about this brief tangent? Not that I heard.

As an entertainer on a national scale the athletes are expected to be role models, knowing that people around the country are watching their every move and many strive to emulate their behavior. The backlash that the players received from their peaceful protest stems from disagreement with their stance and the unfamiliarity of football being used to make a political statement or show support for a cause. Regardless of the intense physical requirements of football at the end of the day it is simply one form of entertainment, and for me, the best kind of entertainment always has something to say.