Our [art]seen writers cohort is comprised of University of Michigan students who review arts events on and near their campuses, sharing their thoughts and experiences on live music, film screenings, dance performances, theatre productions and art exhibitions. Take a look back at some of our most memorable reviews of arts events this past year by clicking on the Year in Review(s) 2023 tag. See what our bloggers went to and read what they thought!
REVIEW: Threads of Justice and Legacy: Lester Johnson Art at the Stamelos Gallery
Visiting the Stamelos Gallery at the Mardigian Library on Monday was a powerful experience that gave me a deeper appreciation for Lester Johnson’s work. Stepping into the space filled with his vibrant pieces, I felt the energy of his journey as an artist, a journey that is deeply rooted in the history and culture of Detroit and the broader African-American experience.
The exhibition, FOUR: Lester Johnson’s Selected Works, is a captivating reflection of his life and creative evolution. As I stood in front of his large-scale totem sculptures, I couldn’t help but think about how Johnson’s work is so deeply connected to his childhood in Detroit’s Westside, a historically rich Black community. Growing up just blocks from the iconic Blue Bird Inn, a hub for jazz legends like John Coltrane and Miles Davis, it’s clear how the rhythms and melodies of Detroit’s jazz scene shaped his creative vision. Johnson’s art is infused with the spirit of this music, often created with it playing in the background, as he seeks to channel its energy and emotion into his sculptures and paintings.
One piece that particularly struck me was the 26 Wood, Fiber, and Fabric Totems, which are a tribute to Rosa Parks and Judge Damon J. Keith. These works, rich in color and texture, tell a story of resilience and community. The fabric, woven with African-inspired patterns, speaks to the ways in which culture can bind people together, even in the face of adversity.
For Johnson, fabric is more than just material—it’s a symbol of the strength and unity that communities, particularly Black communities, have built over time despite systemic challenges. The totems were a poignant reminder of the importance of honoring the past while continuing to fight for justice.
As I walked through the gallery, I was also reminded of how much Johnson’s personal experiences shaped his artistic direction. His move into papermaking in the 1980s, influenced by Al Loving and Lynn Forgach, marked a turning point in his work.
I could sense the new textures and depth in pieces like Lynn’s Song and Nerfetiti, where paper became a medium for exploring his longstanding fascination with primal cultures and natural materials. The three-dimensionality of the work felt so immersive, like I could reach out and touch the cultural stories embedded in the fibers of the paper itself.
The most moving aspect of Johnson’s work is its ability to connect deeply with the viewer. Each piece tells a story—not just of the artist’s journey, but of the shared human experience. Whether it’s the universal struggle for justice or the celebration of the cultural legacies that shape our lives, Johnson’s art invites us to reflect on what unites us as individuals and as communities. My visit to the Stamelos Gallery was a reminder that art isn’t just about what we see on the surface; it’s about the stories, struggles, and triumphs that are woven into every brushstroke, every piece of fabric, and every sheet of paper. Johnson’s work is a testament to the power of creativity to honor the past and inspire the future.
REVIEW: Arbor Glyph
The Student-led Exhibition Committee is a newly-formed group of Stamps students, faculty and staff who aim to provide more opportunities for undergraduates to exhibit their work. The SEC’s inaugural exhibition “L’Assemblage” was displayed last winter in the Stamps building, and the committee has now brought student work to the walls of the Stamps Gallery with “Arbor Glyph.”
Tucked away in a small side room off the main display space of the Stamps Gallery, “Arbor Glyph” is an understated but cozy exhibition. An inviting semicircle of wooden chairs filled with soft pillows faces the single, large-scale artwork. A carpet softens the tile floor, and black fabric covers the walls. Calm instrumental music, mixed with birdsong, plays softly. The environment feels calm and secluded, a comfortable hiding place.
The artwork itself is a combination of painting and projection, spread across three tall paper panels that form a single image of a chaotic, colorful forest. The painting was created collaboratively by about a dozen Stamps students who attended a painting event in October. Their only direction was the prompt “depict a tree.” This spontaneous method of creation is apparent in the wide range of styles that share space on the canvas, from bold streaks of ink to carefully placed brushstrokes.
As I approached the work to take a closer look, I realized that where my shadow fell onto the wall and blocked the projection, the colors disappeared. I had been aware that there was a projected element to the artwork, but it was so well integrated that I had failed to notice that the painting was composed with only black ink. The colors of the piece are an illusion produced by the projector overlay, bringing vibrancy to the shades of gray.
The longer I looked at the piece, the more small details I noticed. Apples among a tree’s scribbled branches. Birds in the sky. Animals lying beneath the trees, sheltered by their branches. Mushrooms growing in the undergrowth. These details added subtlety and life to the scene. I also noticed that the colors of the projection seemed to shift over time, particularly the sky, which cycled through blues, greens and purples.
The artwork and the space encourage this kind of contemplation—I found the chairs comfortable and the music very calming. The small room felt like a peaceful refuge, and I was content to spend a long time with the piece, watching the colors slowly shift.
I enjoyed the exhibition itself, but to me, the most valuable aspect of “Arbor Glyph” is the mission it represents. While there are existing opportunities for Stamps students to exhibit their artwork in the Stamps Gallery, such as the Undergraduate Juried Exhibition, those opportunities tend to be very selective and set a high bar for entry. There is value in recognizing exceptional work, but there is also value in creating space for work that might not otherwise have the chance to be publicly displayed. The Student-led Exhibition Committee is creating exhibition opportunities that are more accessible for students, and for that I applaud them.
“Arbor Glyph” is on display at the Stamps Gallery until November 16th.
REVIEW: Touch by Ericka Lopez
“Please do not touch the art.”
In most museums, art exhibits or galleries– at least that I have attended– that message is posted loud and clear. But at Touch, an art exhibition by Ericka Lopez housed in the Institute for the Humanities Gallery, touching the art is encouraged.
Lopez was born with limited vision and today is completely blind. As a result, her art-making process comes through the sense of touch and her memories of color. The exhibit houses three different types of pieces: mixed-media sculptures, ceramics and punch-rug textiles.
I walked into the small square room with some trepidation. The exhibit is housed in the Institute for the Humanities Gallery, a square room on the first floor of Thayer Academic Building. I went during the middle of a weekday, so the gallery was understandably quiet. What drew my eye immediately were the circular mixed-media sculptures hanging on the wall. Each one looks different, and are colorful amalgamations of yarn, beads, buttons, fabric and even keys.
It felt unnatural to touch an art exhibit. I gently reached out, and realized how much the texture of the piece added to the experience. The plastic beads and bundles of string contrast each other visually, but they contrast even more in texture. These everyday objects take on a new life in these pieces.
I moved on to Lopez’s punch-rugs. Each of these pieces follow a cohesive color scheme, and with the eye look a bit plainer than the multi-media sculptures since they don’t include as many mediums as the sculptures. (Don’t worry, though; there are still plenty of beads and buttons here).
Despite being completely blind, Lopez uses color masterfully. According to Amanda Krugliak, the exhibit curator, Lopez has figured out how to distinguish different colored materials based on touch and scent. This unique method is part of what makes Lopez’s pieces so creative and imaginative; the exhibit is unlike any other that I’ve seen. It pushes the boundaries of the future of art.
I decided to try closing my eyes before touching each of these pieces– and this is how I suggest enjoying most of the exhibit, but these pieces especially. Lopez places different textiles in intentional patterns to create a landscape that comes alive as you feel it.
In the center of the room, Lopez’s ceramic pieces sit atop two tables. The deeper meaning behind these pieces escaped me at first. I stared at the beautifully glazed coil pots before scanning the QR code to read about the pieces, where I learned that the warped and lopsided shapes come from Lopez hugging or holding the pots before firing. The relationship between the body and the art, the artist and her pieces, is what makes these pieces meaningful.
Accessibility within the arts can seem tricky. How can one convey a two-dimensional painting to someone who can’t see the painting? But exhibits like this, which also include exhibit descriptions in Braille next to the pieces, show that visual art can interact with more senses than just sight. For someone like myself, who is not visually impaired, the addition of the physical texture and sensory experience of touching the pieces made the exhibit feel so much more personal. Maybe more art should be made to be touched.
Touch is open 9-5, Monday through Friday, until December 13.
REVIEW: Murder on the Orient Express
Before I saw Rude Mechanicals’ production of “Murder on the Orient Express,” I had no idea what to expect. Somehow, despite the source material by Agatha Christie being so iconic, neither the plot nor the ending had been spoiled for me.
Going in, I had no preconceived notions of what this play should look like – and, like with all murder mysteries, I think that is the best way to do it.
The play opens with a blinding blast of light from the stage, mimicking a train’s headlights, before diving into the show. Hercule Poirot (Ty Lam), a world-renowned Belgian detective, is traveling from Istanbul to London on the Orient Express, a train line owned by his friend, Monsieur Bouc (Fabian Rihl). Once aboard the train, a kooky cast of characters including the chic and dramatic Princess Dragomiroff (Bobby Currie) and the over-the-top Helen Hubbard (Olivia Sulisz) soon find themselves trapped when the Express gets stuck in a snowdrift.
Amidst the hubbub, a dead body is found with eight stab wounds. It’s Samuel Ratchett (Jax Coates)… or is it? Poirot is immediately on the case.
While the play is, at its core, a murder mystery, it is also a comedy. In the program, director Anderson Zoll says they “leaned into the humor and heightened theatricality” to give the show “a generous dose of camp.” And overall? I think they succeeded.
As someone who didn’t know the plot before going in, it was a bit tough to follow at first because nearly every character has a different accent. A terribly tough task, to truck through the 100 minutes in an Irish, Russian or Swedish accent. But once the cast fell into stride, the show chugged along like a well-oiled machine. The Rude Mechanicals machine, perhaps.
Part of what heightened the “campy” aspect of this production were the cheeky asides and musical transitions between some scenes. For instance, in one of the first scenes, a character remarks that Lam’s mustache “doesn’t even look real!” In response, Lam moves the open newspaper he is obviously hiding behind to give the audience a pointed look over the mustache that is, very obviously, fake. In one of the scene clearings, the ghost of Daisy Armstrong (Christine Chupailo) performs a beautiful ballet sequence; but in the context of the flippancy of everything else, it almost made me laugh.
While the whole cast was great, Rihl, Currie and Sulisz stood out. With a healthy dose of physical comedy and almost-constant movement, Rihl really played into the stressed businessman who will do anything to keep his customers happy. Even when not speaking, Rihl’s reactions to other characters and their actions simply made so much sense; of course he would dust off the seats before someone sits down to be interrogated! Currie plays Princess Dragomiroff in drag, a choice that felt so natural it made me search whether the role was usually played in drag. And Sulisz, from using Michel the Conductor (Jaden Gonzalez) as a handrail to climb onto the train to singing show tunes to herself in a pink robe, drew some of the biggest laughs. The loud, dramatic American traveling solo, the character Sulisz played was both familiar and novel, and altogether magnetic.
Some of the more serious moments fell flat, but they were few and far between, and the play did wonders as a comedy. A good comedy immerses the audience in a world and lets them leave their worries at the door, if only for two hours. While the plot was interesting, it was ultimately the way the cast embraced their roles and “committed to the bit” that made it so enjoyable.
REVIEW: The Music of John Williams
On Saturday, October 19, I attended the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra (A2SO) concert celebrating the music of John Williams. As expected, given the popularity of one of cinema’s greatest composers, the line at the Michigan Theatre was incredible—possibly the longest I’ve ever seen for an A2SO concert. The crowd was notably diverse, with attendees of all ages, and I even recognized friends who don’t typically attend orchestra performances.
Under the baton of guest conductor Damon Gupton, the program showcased some of John Williams’ most famous works. The first half, in program order, included “Superman March” from Superman, “The Shark Theme” from Jaws, the main themes from Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List, “Devil’s Dance” from The Witches of Eastwick, “Love Theme” from Superman, and the “Throne Room & End Title” from Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope.
I loved seeing some musicians—and even some instruments—in costume on stage. Paired with the quick beat and lively brass in “Superman March,” it set high expectations from the start that this would be a fun and exciting concert. Damon Gupton’s theatrical side shone through as he conducted the iconic, suspenseful opening measures of “The Shark Theme.” With each new phrase in the music, he would glance apprehensively behind him, as if watching out for danger lurking—an amusing touch that drew laughter and reflected his background as an actor.
The order in which the repertoire was performed made me feel as though I were watching a movie, with each piece shifting the tone and taking me in a new direction. After Jaws, the uplifting main theme from Jurassic Park brought excitement, followed by the somber theme from Schindler’s List, which featured a sorrowful violin solo by the concertmaster. “Devil’s Dance” then introduced a thrilling energy that transitioned seamlessly into the sweet melody of “Love Theme,” before the first half concluded with the universally recognizable soundtrack from Star Wars.
The orchestra also performed the Olympic Fanfare and Theme, “Harry’s Wondrous World” from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, “Hymn to the Fallen” from Saving Private Ryan, “March” from 1941, “With Malice Toward None” from Lincoln, and finished the evening with “Adventures on Earth” from E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.
Since I haven’t seen the films Olympic Fanfare and Theme, “March,” and “With Malice Toward None” come from, I had never heard them before. This allowed me to fully absorb the emotions conveyed by the music, without the influence of imagery associated with the movies. The catchy rhythms and bright trumpets in Olympic Fanfare and Theme and “March” made it easy to visualize social festivities. Meanwhile, the strings in “With Malice Toward None” evoked a strong bittersweet feeling.
On the other hand, I’ve already heard “Harry’s Wondrous World,” “Hymn to the Fallen,” and “Adventures on Earth” performed live by the Michigan Pops Orchestra (MPO), who also played the same versions of “The Shark Theme,” themes from Jurassic Park, and Star Wars from the first half of the concert. It was interesting to compare how the A2SO and MPO interpreted these musical scores. The MPO has a much larger string section, which allowed their strings to stand out more, while the winds shined more in the A2SO. Though each had a different dynamic, this experience only deepened my admiration for our school’s student orchestras, as I didn’t find them lacking in musical quality compared to a professional ensemble.
Overall, with its diverse selection of pieces, the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra’s performance felt like watching a film without the visuals, beautifully celebrating the genius of John Williams.
Pictures are provided by A2SO
REVIEW: The 5th Annual Pass The Mic
On October 23 2024, “Pass the Mic” invited everyone into a space full of real emotions, honesty, and a bit of magic. Hosted by the Hopwood Program, this yearly event brought students from all over the University of Michigan to share their writing—poems, stories, and essays.
Throughout the night, we heard all kinds of stories, each one reflecting the writer’s unique life and feelings. There were poems about deep loss, struggles with mental health, and even the simple sweetness of peaches and plums. Listening felt like getting a glimpse into each person’s world, as they opened up and shared real pieces of their lives.
From the Dearborn campus, Vincent Intrieri shared a powerful story about his own life experiences. From open-heart surgery, his time in the Navy, and moments in a hospital room with his girlfriend and nephew, he crafted his life into lines that made up his living. His words felt raw and genuine. “Living felt worth it again and I eventually found my voice,” he said. For him, that was his way to heal and reclaim his story. We were right there with him, almost reliving it.
Then, a poet from the Flint campus shared a love story in a different kind of way. Peaches and Plums, it was called. Each stage of the relationship was tied to the stages of eating a peach or a plum—like the sweetness of a peach when you first bite into it to the tartness of a plum halfway—capturing the ups and downs of love. The poem ended on a bittersweet note, capturing love’s simple but complicated beauty. While the author explained they did end up staying friends, a love story is a love story, even if it’s between friends. It was like “unraveling a love story through the sweetness and messiness of fruit.”
Finally, from Ann Arbor, another author shared a piece about loss and nature. Their words felt like a quiet tribute, with landscapes that mirrored their sadness. “I rest my head on the hook of your neck mother.” You could feel the weight of the words the more they spoke. The poem felt dreamy and light, as if they were letting nature carry their grief. Losing someone is a natural process, and the poem was a gentle reminder that it would all be okay. Trees grow back!
By the end of the night, I felt like I’d been part of something special. “Pass the Mic” was more than just an event; it was a space for people to share their stories and connect. Each voice mattered, and each story—no matter how different—was heard. It was a night to remember.
