REVIEW: Glenn Miller Orchestra

October 6 | 7:00pm | The Michigan Theater

 

 

Who says swing music is a thing of the past? Certainly not the hundreds of fans inside the Michigan Theater last Sunday, awaiting the legendary Glenn Miller Orchestra (GMO).

If you think you’ve never heard of them—think again. Hits like “In The Mood”, “Moonlight Serenade,” and “Pennsylvania 6-5000” have woven their way into American culture, appearing in films, TV shows, school band concerts, weddings—you name it. Iowa-born Glenn Miller formed the band in 1938* and quickly gained popularity as a jazz and dance band throughout the Northeastern United States. After Miller’s mysterious disappearance in 1944, the band continued to perform under various bandleaders, including Buddy DeFranco, and later Ray McKinley. 85 years later, the Glenn Miller Orchestra is still touring the country, delivering its timeless, heartwarming sound.

The band made the final stop of their fall tour here at The Michigan Theater, with a packed house of varying ages. The show was 2 hours with a 20-minute intermission—nicely paced with intermittent dialouge from Music Director Erik Stabnau and their vocal quartet “The Moonlight Serenaders”.

Stabnau led a busy evening as the lead tenor saxophone player and emcee, also performing a few vocal tunes as well as leading the vocal quartet.

Jenny Swoish performing with “The Moonlight Serenaders”.

“Unfortunately, there are no original members performing tonight…”, Eric joked. While this is true, each player remained a stand-out musician, sensitive to stylistic differences of the swing-era sound.

Joining the GMO was vocalist Jenny Swoish, a jazz singer by the way of Nashville, Tennessee. She performed well-known vocal standards including “I’m Beginning to See the Light” and “These Foolish Things” as well as an original song from her debut album entitled “Never Gone”. A glamorous and energetic performance, Ms. Swoish maintains the delightful charm of jazz vocalists.

While the Michigan Theater is gorgeous and historic, it does not always produce the best sound for live music. A few soloists were lost from the mics, and besides wishing there was a bit more resonance from the hall—there is not much else you can ask for from an establishment that is almost a century old.

This band has its schtick down. Their performance was complete with hat choreography (as seen above) and cheerful demeanor by each member—gimmicks that are well-received by audiences. Their focus is clearly on maintaining tradition, a commitment that has kept them touring into the 21st century. They’ve found success in many American audiences but as the changing music industry shifts away from older jazz styles, who knows if the future will leave this beloved band behind?

I hope to see the Glenn Miller Orchestra make it another 85 years. They serve as a joyful reminder of Glenn Miller’s lasting contribution to the tradition of big band music.

 

 

 

Photos thanks to Jaron Jenkins.

*A more cohesive history of the band is found here.

REVIEW: Julius Caesar

Thursday, October 3rd | 7:30pm | Arthut Miller Theater

 

It’s been 84 years since Julius Caesar was produced at Michigan, and I’m certain that production was much different than the Theater & Drama department’s in Arthur Miller last weekend.

A story about aggressively overthrowing power is a timely one,  and set in a matriarchal society is even more intriguing. In this adaptation by Pricilla Lindsay, she brings out a new edge from an entirely “female-presenting” cast. Pronouns are changed to “she” and words shifted to “sister” and “queen” in the script, breeding a new layer of complexity to the dialogue.

Oftentimes Shakespeare is so dense that it’s difficult to follow thoroughly, but I found this production quite accessible from the actor’s commitment to the text, especially with the adjustments.  I won’t say Shakespeare is my favorite thing to watch, but this production surely piqued my interest.

Contrary to the titular role, this story sheds most of its light on Brutus’ arc. She goes through a significant journey from a supporter of Caesar to a defiant adversary until her subsequent death in Act II. Katie Snowday (Brutus) brought a devoted, intense, and fully fleshed-out character into the theater. Her performance was beautifully concise and crucial to the production’s overall clarity.

Mary-Kate Sunshine Mahoney (Portia) and Katie Snowday (Brutus).

 

 

Sophia Lane as Julius Caesar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The costuming was reminiscent of the 2010s, the Renaissance era, and Star Wars all at the same time—perhaps reflecting a deliberate ambiguity in setting. The use of textures and shapes is thoughtful, but the theatrical universe was hard to tie down. However, these elements evoked femininity, such as curved elephant tusks in the set rather than traditional columns, and Caesar’s banner of purple and yellow, akin to the suffragists of the early 20th century.

Caesar’s character lacked the piercing arrogance one might expect—perhaps lost in the direction of the re-adaptation. Instead, I encountered an indifferent and occasionally warm Caesar, who was aware of her own splendor, but only because others were telling her so. This portrayal made me question the true eminence of her reign shaped by the mercurial Roman ensemble. Is any form of leadership merely a glorified popularity contest?

Shakespeare’s intent to warn against violence as a means of political gain remains clear and this production offered more questions than answers with its feminine twist. Julius Caesar continuously begs the question: Do we become masters of our own fate? Perhaps, but it’s certain that Ms. Snowday has mastered hers.

 

 

 

 

“Julius Caesar” runs September 26 through October 6th in the Arthur Miller Theater.

Images thanks to Peter Smith & SMTD Marketing.

REVIEW: Stop Kiss

Rude Mechanicals completes their 2023-24 season with the 1999 play by Diana Son, Stop Kiss. Seeing this play was a new experience for me, and quite a beautiful one.

Set from Stop Kiss in the Arthur Miller Theater.

The play follows two young women, Callie (Emilia Vizachero) and Sara (Victoria Vourkoutiotis), who meet in New York City and begin to have feelings for one another. One evening, they share a kiss in the West Village, and it results in a terrible hate crime leaving Sara with a life-altering injury. The play follows a non-linear storyline, jumping from Sara and Callie’s first interaction to weeks after the attack.

 

I am not cultured on much queer theater, so I haven’t been exposed to many pieces where characters are actively discovering their sexual identity during the show—rather many pieces I’ve encountered have characters come in with their sexuality seemingly decided. I enjoyed this piece’s honest and sincere exploration of queerness.

I was immediately struck by Audrey Tieman’s beautiful onstage set when I walked into the Arthur Miller. It brought me directly into the moment of the show with an ornate pink apartment—the 1990s, young, and within a metropolitan city. The major part of the set was far upstage, juxtaposing the thrust space. This left the apartment scenes feeling more presentational than personal, counteracting the intimacy of a thrust. All of the scenes outside the apartment were on the thrust, such as the detective’s office or moments when characters were strolling through the streets of New York City. An interesting choice, that sometimes led me out of the detail of the world that was created in the embellished apartment set.

Emilia Vizachero and Adam Rogers delivered individually exquisite performances. Rogers is effortlessly charming as Callie’s undefined partner, George, and Vizachero brilliantly leads us through a journey of Callie’s many complex emotions over two timelines—one I would be happy to experience again. Vourkoutiotis also played a sweet and gentle Sara, with wholesome chemistry alongside a witty Vizachero.

 

Emilia Vizachero as Callie.

Direction (by Reese Leif) was cohesive and thorough. Scenes and dramatic moments felt naturally paced, at times skimming on hyper-realism, making the play’s brutal contrast of content duly apparent to the audience.

 

The illuminating kiss that closes the play leaves a fully realized portrait of Callie and Sara’s relationship. This perfectly placed scene becomes charged over the duration of the play due to the revelations about what lies behind and ahead of these beloved characters. It was an unforgettable (and titular) moment of the piece, yet left my heart aching for the two women.

 

 

Leo Kupferberg (a fabulous and frequent SMTD Dramaturg) made a beautiful point in his dramaturgy note about the “in-between” of the piece, which I left the theater pondering. This show revels in the lack of certainty, unwavering bravery, and messiness many women navigate through. Stop Kiss can feel limited to its darkness and crucial messaging of the tumultuous experiences of many LGBTQ+ relationships, but Leif brings out the beauty in such darkness, reminding us that love always prevails.

 

 

 

 

 

April 20th, 8pm. Arthur Miller Theater. Images thanks to @umrudes on Instagram.

REVIEW: The Cherry Orchard

Nothing screams “Chekhov” like a three-hour play about family drama—and The Cherry Orchard is full of it.

The Department of Theater and Drama recently wrapped up its two-week run of The Cherry Orchard, directed by Associate Professor Daniel Cantor.

The play is about a 20th-century Russian aristocratic family facing financial ruin and losing their ancestral estate, including its titular cherry orchard. Matriarch Luibóv Ranyévska and her brother Leoníd Gáyev own the estate from their youth and have fond memories of the property. Ranyévska has two children, the free-spirited Ánya and the careful Várya. Two neighborly businessmen (Borís Semyónov-Pishik and Yermolái Lopákhin) are attempting to convince the family to cut down their beloved cherry orchard for land to maintain the finances to keep their estate. The family does not take to their counsel, tumbling into the inevitable fate of the property. The play explores the turn-of-the-century social and economic transitions in the waning aristocratic era of Russia within a little family out in the country.

The original 1903 book was written in Russian by Anton Chekhov (Вишнёвый сад), so the production was performed from an English translation. I’m not sure I was particularly fond of the translation—at times, the dialogue felt watered down from the complexity and nuance I know from Chekhov’s careful character-building.

An air of nostalgia cut through the direction quite masterfully. I felt sentimental with Ms. Ranyévska and her brother Mr. Gáyev, the estate’s owners, however, the predictable fate of the home and relationships between the family and businessmen were not as intriguing to me. I craved more of a ping-pong-like drama between the businessmen and the family, leaving the plot a little flat. The drama perhaps could have gotten lost because of the aforementioned translation or the length of the nearly three-hour endeavor to arrive at the fate of their beloved estate.

The movement and musical aspects of this play caught my attention significantly. Music & Live Sound Coordination (perhaps arranged or written?) was by Hayden Steiner and Raymond Ocasio. There was a small band that performed on-stage with the actors. I loved the soundscape and chosen instrumentation for the show—some solo moments, such as a clarinet to represent youth, and a single violin for perhaps a more sentimental yearning for the past.  There were larger arrangements, for example during Ms.Ranyévska’s party held at the estate with the band in all-white clown costumes (not sure what this was referencing, if anything). Choreography and movement was handled by Drey’von Simmons, a first-year musical theater student. I thought the movement created interesting stage pictures and was thoughtfully placed in the show.

Though I struggled with the lack of motivation in the plot, the performances by the actors were overwhelmingly good. Luibóv Ranyévska was played by a stunning Kaylin Gines alongside her brother Leoníd Gáyev as Jaylen Steudle. These two captivated my attention constantly—they deeply embodied the lack of acceptance from their declining fortunes and especially from Gines, an inability to embrace change. They playfully managed their character’s see-sawing emotions from euphoria to deep anguish. I equally enjoyed the disheveled butler, Firs (Sam Hopkins). Firs is an elderly servant who represents the fading aristocratic era, and while devoted to the family, is left behind at the end, tragically forgotten in the chaos of the family’s departure. Hopkins (an apparent college student) nailed the physicality of someone three to four times his age—physically and vocally. I enjoyed his sentimental presence, and I thought a profound way to end the play with his death in the empty house.

 

 

April 13th, 8pm. Arthur Miller Theater. Images thanks to @umichtheatre on Instagram.

REVIEW: A Little Night Music

[Title photo: Cole Newburg (left) and Audrey Graves.]

Of all the entangled romantic comedies in musical theater, A Little Night Music is quite the knot. The Department of Musical Theater completes its 2023-2024 season with Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s musical-operetta surrounding a horny mess of bourgeoisie adults at the turn of the century in Sweden. But it gets better—accompanied is a full orchestra with the most waltz-worthy melodies that string you right along with this troupe’s ridiculous antics.

The plot is quite dense. Desirée Armfeldt (Carly Meyer) is a fading actress touring small theaters across the country. She has a young daughter, Fredrika (Mariangeli Collado), who lives with her grandmother, Madam Armfeldt (Kate Louissaint), in the country. Desirée continuously delays seeing her daughter, preferring her life on tour in the theater. On the other side of town, Fredrik (Cole Newburg) and Anne Egerman (Audrey Graves), the newly married couple (with a quite significant age gap) live with Henrik (Michael Fabisch), the teenage son of Fredrik. He is a seminary student, frustrated and often ignored and mocked by the family with contentious feelings for his stepmother, Anne. One evening, Anne and Fredrick go to the theater, where Anne learns of Fredrik’s romantic history with the leading actress, Desirée. The two share an evening together, until interrupted by Desirée’s current affair, Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm (Owen Scales). Thus begins a spiral of jealousy and scandal when Desirée invites both couples Count Malcolm and Countess Charlotte (Gabriella Palminteri) and Anne, Fredrik, and Henrik to her mother’s home in the country.

This production was directed by Telly Leung, a graduate of the University of Michigan Musical Theater Department and an active Broadway performer. Direction choices were thorough and aesthetic for a venue that can leave you uninspired. However, the choice of an electric lime-green floor often took me away from the glamour of these characters’ lives and exceptional music and performances. This was in part recovered by a spectacular costume design right out of an Edwardian-type 1900s Sweden.



.

The orchestration of the show is near perfect. A full orchestra accompanied the performance tonight at the Power Center, one of the finest pit orchestras I have heard at this University to date (musical direction by the fabulous Catherine A. Walker). A glimmering orchestra underneath some of the most brilliant voices at the University was a perfect end to the semester.  With leading women Carly Meyer and Audrey Graves, there was not a single pedestrian vocal moment. Their attention to virtuosic vocalism while navigating Sondheim’s cheeky text was a thrill. Angeleia Ordoñez (Petra) brilliantly performed one of my favorite tunes of all time, “The Miller’s Son”. It’s a satisfyingly audacious song from the promiscuous maid, Petra, and a 4-minute three-part opera in performance, displaying Petra’s keenness to the lives of the bourgeoisie around her. A groundbreaking 11-o’clock number, Ordoñez nailed it. The expansion of The Quintet (a decet for this production), enriched the musical score at whole, perhaps an ironic reflection of the three couples’ extravagant lifestyles. My favorite performance of this evening had to be Fabisch, accessing spot-on character physicality and honest comedy for the crowd-favorite Henrik. Not to mention his spectacular vocals shining through Sondheim’s tricky tuplet score.”

“A weekend in the country” with this outstanding cast would be my pleasure, anytime at all.

[Mariangeli Collado (left), Carly Meyer, and Kate Louissaint]

 

April 19th, 2024, 8pm. Power Center for the Performing Arts. Images thanks to The University of Michigan Department of Musical Theater.

REVIEW: Falsettos

[Title photo: Sam O’Neill (left), Caleb McArthur and James Parascandola.]

It’s not often that I see a show that leaves me as moved as Basement Art’s production of Falsettos did.

Basement Arts is an organization whose mission is to create “inclusive student-produced theatre by allowing students from across campus to execute all aspects of the theatrical production process”. They perform three shows a semester, as well as produce the annual Late Night events such as the Mx. Walgreen Pageant and 24-Hour Theater. This semester already featured some emotional heavy hitters —Collective Rage: A Play in 5 Betties by Jen Silverman and For Colored Girls/When The Rainbow is Enuf by Ntozake Shange.

Falsettos is a culmination of merging two one-act musicals, March of the Falsettos and Falsettoland, produced individually in 1981 and 1990. A fully sung-through musical— there are few moments without song. However, much of the show reads as a play, with heightened drama in every moment and not a single superfluous word. The show follows a Jewish Family in New York City in the 1970s— Marvin (Sam O’Neill), the frustrated ex-husband of the underappreciated Trina (Caroline Patterson), and partner to the stylish Whizzer (Caleb McArthur). Trina and Marvin’s son, Jason (James Parascandola), is growing up quickly, rapidly reaching the age of his bar mitzvah. Among all this, Trina and Marvin’s psychiatrist, (Sammy Guthartz), fall in love and get married. Thus, completes the web of this unusually interwoven family. That is, until you meet the quirky lesbians from next door in Act II, Dr. Charlotte (Abby Lyons) and Cordelia (Kate Cummings).

Falsettos was written by the incomparable William Finn and James Lapine, both Jewish writers (and Finn identifying as queer himself). It’s hard not to love this gem of a show. Its mechanical musical composition and emphasis on developing endearing and complex characters make the show feel complete and questionably familiar. The music is fun and catchy yet requires exceptional musical expertise to execute well (skillful music direction by Caleb Middleton).  The story blends humor and heartache while these characters are on their quests for happiness and acceptance.

The relevance that Falsettos retains from its 1992 premiere is remarkable. Difficult family dynamics, a rapidly changing social landscape, and a world that feels like it’s uncontrollably crumbling around them. Successful musicals stand the test of time, and after over three decades it’s clear that Falsettos made the cut.

The tense family dynamics were masterfully cultivated by director Naomi Parr and navigated equally as masterfully by this intense and thoughtful cast. Patterson (the needy, Trina) has one of the most captivating voices in the show—she does not shy away from the luxurious lines in the score while capturing Trina’s true angst and frustration with the imprudent men in her life. Her dynamic alongside the charming and perfectly awkward Mendel (Guthartz) was sublime. O’Neill and McArthur navigate perhaps the most complicated relationship dynamic in the show, one loaded with lust and devotion, sprinkled with violence and need for acceptance. The nuance the two brought to this unbelievably deep relationship was remarkable. Whizzer and Marvin’s poignant love maneuvered through each twist and turn, even past the heartbreaking finale—an arduous task beautifully achieved. Underneath these two intricate relationships leaves Jason (Parascandola), who left to pick up the pieces (literally and physically). Parascandola’s playful exchange with youth and hope left me rooting for Jason, wondering where his little life will take him next. It’s plain to see how this cast ripped my heart out and left it in the 1970s with them.

The cast of “Falsettos” and director Naomi Parr.

Parr states in her director’s note: “Falsettos addresses devastating tragedy but lives instead in the celebration of life, including mishaps that surround these moments of grief.” With one of the most responsive and touched audiences I’ve ever encountered, it seems the only thing missing from Falsettos was another weekend of shows.

 

April 6th, 9pm. Newman Studio. Images thanks to Naomi Parr and Basement Arts.