Author: jbaz

Last night, people of all ages flocked to Hill Auditorium to watch the symphony band perform. My best friend and I made an event out of this, dressing in our finest clothes, calling a chauffeur (uber) to the venue, and dining like royalty beforehand. The show began with mezzo-soprano vocalist Joan Morris. She sang four songs to the audience, though her delivery accentuated them to be more than just songs, but stories rather. I call them stories because she wasn’t merely singing the words. With her confidence and animated character, she brought the words to life in a such a way that enveloped you in the sound. She owned the stage by fully immersing herself in the stories, throwing her arms and reacting with facial expressions to the drama within each story. This kind of confidence takes the wall down between the performer and the audience because you forget it’s a performance. There are no nerves in the way, or segregation. Instead, everyone in all of Hill Auditorium was level. Because we were all level, we could all see the same long black jacket and broad black hat that she described in the song of Black Max, for example. Following her, we heard a some incredible pieces. Like Morris, every musician embodied a character on stage. The clarenetists and the flutists had a timeless presence. Maybe it was the first chairman’s jet black hair and rounded classes, or maybe it was the bob haircut. While still maintaining focus and performance, the two bass cellists loosening up the atmosphere with their goofy  back and forth with each other. I wonder how someone gets involved with such large, obscure instruments, and furthermore, what it’s like to be somewhat separated from the larger body of musicians. It seemed though that they were closer. The show closed with a song for the seven band members whose last performance was that night. Leonard Bernstein’s composition, his story, called “Make Our Garden Grow”, captured the sense of leaving from one place with a hopeful leap to the next.

Shout out to the conductor Michael Haithcock…the show was spectacular!

Stay tuned for the concert band performing at Hill on December 6th at 8:00pm.

You know this feeling. I don’t like to even say the word because the more you say it, the more power it acquires…yeah, we all know it: stress. Let me tell you though, stress is a real thing, but to feel stress is a choice. Maybe your hair starts to fall out, you can’t focus on one thing at a time because you’re mind is expelling 360 degrees around you. Maybe you break down and cry. These are alternative ways to release the tension that has piled up inside you. However, I have good news. There are other, more pleasant ways to expel these feelings…that not only cleanse your mind of life’s stressors, but add some of life’s gifts.

So here’s how to find what stress cleanser works best for you.

Start with what you are given.

We have five senses. These are our connection to the world. Reciprocally, that is how we channel ourselves to the world. When we don’t channel ourselves to the world, our minds bottle up stress. For artists, they can put their thoughts into an image. For musicians, they put their thoughts into a sound. For chefs, they put their thoughts into a taste. Gardeners can put theirs into organized smells. For athletes, they put their thoughts into feelings of physical strength.

Pick a favorite.

You blast your music through your cheap white apple headphones on the way to class? You’ll pick your sense sound. Say you’re not terribly musically inclined, but you have an appreciation for music, so your outlet may be browsing soundcloud for 20 minutes between studying for subjects. So instead of screaming into your sweatshirt, you’ll find relief AND find new music! See what works for you.

Life’s too good to be stressed.

Why are nighthawks productive?

Picture it like this: everyone carries around a round waiter tray. This tray is what holds your creative capacity. When you wake up, your mind is sleepy and the tray has nothing on it, like this:

You slowly add to the tray while your mind adjusts to awakened thinking. The first things you put on the tray are the sound of your toothbrush against your teeth followed by the squeak of the faucet head and a wash of water. Then you say hello to your housemates whose hair still in place from its messy resting position on a pillow. The interaction goes on the tray. You have your bowl of oatmeal. This taste goes on the tray. So you have a bathroom, five bedheads, and steel cut oatmeal on your tray and you haven’t even changed out of your pajamas. Quick change, and on your tray you have a bathroom, five bedheads, oatmeal, and a denim jacket on your tray. Throughout the day, every encounter, every stimuli is added to your tray. By the end of the day, you have collected many sights, smells, tastes, sounds, and feels.

Got it?

Now it’s dark. It’s late. People consider the day to be over. You look at your collection of sensations, and you unload it into a bottomless memory vault you keep in the bottom drawer of your dresser. Once again, your tray looks like this:

You have an clear tray like you did in the morning, but your mind is fully activated. Before you had tangible items thrown onto your tray. Now, you have the freedom to place whatever you can imagine on the tray. No distractions. No outside stimulation. You can refer to the memory vault for inspiration without having to carry it. While other people cycle through stages of unconsciousness, your mind exponentially creates.

People flocked to Hill Auditorium this past Saturday to celebrate the Michigan Bicentennial. Alumni from over the years came to speak at about where their maize and blue foundation took them. At the tribute, we saw appearances from Darren Criss, Sanjay Gupta, Cecilia Muñoz, and many more reputable names. (James Earl Jones unfortunately could not attend because of health reasons, but a video of  him reading an excerpt from “Death of a Salesman” in place of his absence.) Each wolverine shared a little about his or her life today and their success after attending Michigan. Between distinguished alums, UM organizations like vocals from the dashing Friars filled the air with sound. Another part of the tribute included nostalgic stories that were accompanied by slideshows of places that were prevalent in Ann Arbor culture years ago when most of the audience was in school here. Some of the places like Zingerman’s are still just as popular. Throughout the whole show, there was an undoubted sense of pride and achievement within everyone in the room. It’s great to be a Michigan Wolverine. We rock. Look at all we have accomplished?

Amongst all the pride and the excitement, something was quiet.

I told one of my best friends that I’d attended the bicentennial tribute. I told him about all the famous people and their achievements, about how impressed I was, about the work I have to do to keep up with their success, about how cool their lives are. In return, he asked me, “did any of them mention being happy?”

Come to think of it, not one person mentioned “happy.” Success, yes. However, happiness cannot be defined by success. Success is defined by happiness. It’s easy to get swept away by the fortune one career offers, but remember to stay in touch with yourself as you make decisions about your future.

The Michigan G-Men hosted an astounding a cappella and sung word concert in Rackham Auditorium last Saturday. Introducing the show was the talented and quirky Midnight Book Club improv comedy group. They began the night off on a single word volunteered by an audience member; the word “banana” served as the foundation for the entire skit. From the animated personalities to the goofy transitions between acts, the group got a good laugh out of the crowd with their humor.

Following Midnight Book Club, the sharp-dressed G-Men entered stage. Each of their characters could be distinguished within the first moments of the show. They would banter with each other and us, making the audience feel as though we were all friends. They picked a slip of paper with a name on it from a collection of names in a beat up blue UM baseball hat. When a G-Man’s name was selected, he went to the microphone and introduced the next song with his own personal poem. Every single approach to the mic, to the poem, to the delivery of the poem, was unique, just like the members of the group and the talent that they offered.

Wowee those boys can sing! The goose walked over the grave after the first song as my attention was captivated by the perfect fusion of their voices. “Dust Bowl Dance” by Mumford & Sons took the listeners back in time as their voices surrounded the auditorium and transported us to a setting of the song. With “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers, they created a totally expected sound out of a hit, keeping things interesting.

In addition to their talent, they put on a great overall show. My favorite part of the show was the easygoingness of the group. If any transition or poem reading did not go flawlessly, they made fun with it. If a joke was funny, they laughed. If a joke wasn’t funny, they laughed about how it wasn’t funny and proceeded to make the best of it.

It’s incredible how one person is essential to the group as a whole. Without one G-Man, the group would be incomplete. Together, they work together to produce an incredible, layered sound