Author: Ella Larsen

REVIEW: Aurora’s Sunrise

Ella Larsen Leave a comment

3:00pm • Friday, Sept. 29, 2023 • State Theater

Content warning: genocide, violence against the Armenian community

Aurora’s Sunrise, directed by Inna Sahakyan (who was in attendance for a Q&A session at Friday’s screenings), tells the unlikely story of Aurora Mardiganian, a young woman who survived the Armenian genocide of 1915-1923. In 1918, Mardiganian escaped to America and through an unlikely series of events became a silent film star, playing herself in Ravished Armenia (Auction of Souls). The silent film was produced in 1919, purportedly to raise money for Near East Relief, a charitable organization working to protect refugees in the Ottoman Empire during WWI. Through its unique combination of animation, archival footage, and interviews, Aurora’s Sunrise provides a platform for the often-erased history of the Armenian genocide, while raising important questions about ethical storytelling.

For me, exploitation and revictimization were two of the documentary’s most striking motifs. Not only did we witness the horrors Mardiganian faced as a young girl in Armenia, which included watching the murders of her entire family and being repeatedly sold into slavery, but we also saw how she was forced to relive those traumas again and again for an American audience. Filming Auction of Souls was physically grueling, and when Mardiganian broke her ankle in a fall, she was forced to continue acting on it for weeks. Not only did Mardiganian re-enact her two years in exile for the film: At every screening, she shared the details of her story with private audiences of American women, enticing them to donate to Near East Relief. At a turning point in the film, Mardiganian fainted on stage at a speaking engagement. The director of Auction of Souls (who had taken legal guardianship of the young woman) told her she had ruined the event and abandoned her at a convent. Rather than providing a platform for Mardiganian’s own voice, we saw how powerful individuals in Old Hollywood co-opted her story and controlled her personal life.

Aurora’s Sunrise exposes how the Armenian community’s trauma was commodified and minimized for the sake of Hollywood spectacle, under the guise of humanitarian awareness-raising. Mardiganian’s work to spread her story and the realities of the Armenian genocide was highly impactful, raising over 30 million dollars for humanitarian efforts in the Ottoman Empire, but at what cost? The documentary raises essential questions about the ethics of representation: Can narratives of suffering be told without perpetuating harm and revictimization?

Despite the horror and injustice of her circumstances, Mardiganian’s strength and dedication to her community shine throughout the entire documentary. In her Q&A at the end of the film, director Inna Sahakyan prefaced the discussion with the fact that over 100 years after Mardiganian’s story took place, Armenians are facing renewed ethnic cleansing by Azerbaijan. I was struck by the parallels between the director and her subject, both of whom have chosen to convey deeply painful stories to removed audiences, out of a profound commitment to their people. Sahakyan urged moviegoers on Friday to share the film with friends and family, so I am using this opportunity to encourage readers to go watch Aurora’s Sunrise, and prevent this important story from being lost.

REVIEW: Renée Fleming, soprano, with Inon Barnatan, piano

Ella Larsen Leave a comment

7:30pm • Thursday, Sept. 28, 2023 • Hill Auditorium

Last night’s performance was a profoundly beautiful joining of nature and human artistry. In her musical program for this recital, Renée Fleming reminded us that our natural environment is humanity’s oldest muse, and it is in danger.

Fleming, a world-renowned soprano, is a five-time Grammy award-winner as well as a recipient of the National Medal of Arts. She was accompanied by Inon Barnatan, described as “One of the most admired pianists of his generation” by the New York Times, whose week-long residency at U-M includes two more performances on October 4th and 5th. The recital included the world premiere of “Voice of Nature,” a multimedia collaboration with National Geographic based on Fleming’s most recent work, “Voice of Nature: the Anthropocene.” “Voice of Nature” collected music from Fleming’s new album as well as from artists as varied as Björk and Howard Shore (The Lord of the Rings), all accompanied by a film created by National Geographic to represent the beauty of nature and the threat posed by global climate change.

“Voice of Nature” was a deeply poignant experience for me. In the 30-minute piece, imagery depicting the diversity and ingenuity of life on Earth was accompanied by poetic ruminations on life’s transience. The songs captured how nature has served as a backdrop for human love stories throughout time and reminded us that climate change threatened both. I was struck by the end of the piece in particular, where Fleming sang “Evening” by Kevin Puts, accompanied by images of shifting Aurora Borealis interspersed with gently spiraling views of the Milky Way. The solar winds buffeting the planet from millions of miles away, set within our solar system’s grand context, made me feel very small. The lyrics spoke to the space between hope and despair: “We know we are doomed, done for, damned, and still the light reaches us, falls on our shoulders even now, even here where the moon is hidden from us, even though the stars are so far away.”

The performance left me with much to reflect on. I was inspired by the power of music to evoke feelings of hope and commitment to life on Earth, which Fleming curated so thoughtfully in this program. For me, the call to action presented in Fleming’s work and in the accompanying film also exemplifies the spirit of arts as resistance, and I look forward to experiencing more work along this theme throughout this semester.

REVIEW: It Lives Inside

Ella Larsen Leave a comment

7:15pm • Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2023 • State Theater

In horror as a multi-disciplinary genre, the supernatural often serves as a metaphorical reflection of societal fears and anxieties. I don’t watch horror movies very often, but I found the trailer for It Lives Inside intriguing. From my outsider’s perspective, something I’ve noticed about horror is that it tends to be a very white- and male-dominated genre. In contrast, It Lives Inside centers on a community of Indian immigrants within white, small-town America, including teenage protagonist Samidha (Megan Suri, Never Have I Ever) and her family. I was drawn to the film’s exploration of racism, assimilation and community through the lens of horror. 

In It Lives Inside, Samidha is assimilating into (white) American society, distancing herself from her cultural traditions and from her family, community, and former best friend, Tamira (Mohana Krishnan). In contrast, Tamira is an outcast, living in perpetual fear of the thing trapped in a blackened mason jar she carries everywhere. When Samidha and Tamira fight, Samidha breaks the jar, releasing an evil spirit called the Pishach. The movie’s plot focuses on Samidha’s battle with the Pishach, a demon from Hindu mythology which feeds on human flesh. In this rendition, the Pishach feeds upon Samidha and Tamira’s anxieties and insecurities as second-generation immigrants until it can capture them and devour their souls.

One thing I love about It Lives Inside is how the movie emphasizes the necessity of community and solidarity in facing evil, real or supernatural. The Pishach alienates Tamira and Samidha from their families, friends, and supporters, preventing them from seeking help. However, it is when Samidha finally reaches out to her mother (Neeru Bajwa) and her teacher (Betty Gabriel, Get Out), she finds out that one cannot face the Pishach alone and survive–she needs help from her loved ones and community. It is only by reconnecting with her cultural traditions that Samidha can survive the evil forces threatening to consume her. 

Importantly, It Lives Inside manages to explore overarching issues of racism, assimilation, and community without making sweeping generalizations about an entire population. In an interview with writer-director Bishal Dutta, he describes how he hoped to “represent [his] culture in a loving kind of way without trying to make a statement about Indian Americans or the Indian population” (Fort Worth Report, 2023) which comes across beautifully in this film. Samidha and the other characters are portrayed as more than “types,” and while the film incorporates social realities like racism, it centers on the unique lives and relationships among its characters.

Overall, I enjoyed It Lives Inside both as entertainment and as a work fitting into a larger commentary on society. It wasn’t too scary for me, but it definitely kept me at the edge of my seat, and I would recommend it to anyone looking for a fresh movie to see in the coming weeks.

REVIEW: Rent

Ella Larsen Leave a comment

Thursday, April 13, 2023 • 7:30 pm • Power Center

SMTD’s Rent was an incredible experience! Everything from the artists to the accompaniment to the set and costuming was spot-on, and I’m so grateful I got to see this iconic show live.

Shoutouts for favorite performers go to Alex Humphreys (Joanne Jefferson) and Sevon Askew (Tom Collins). I loved Humphreys’ tightly-wound portrayal of Joanne, holding back until her full voice finally exploded through in “Take Me or Leave Me.” Askew played a perfect Tom Collins, simultaneous dreamer and voice of reason. The duet with Angel (“I’ll Cover You”) was beautiful while somehow still hinting at the tragedy to come, and the reprise was heartbreaking.

As I mentioned earlier, the set for this show was super cool. The structure evoked a corner of the East Village circa 1990, every element of the stage simultaneously a darkened street, a lot, a tent city, a community of apartments. Not that I can exactly vouch for its accuracy, but it matched my generation’s faux-nostalgia for the grungy late-80s, early 90s. The program detailed a little of the dramaturgs’ approach to the historical integrity of the play, including details like following AZT dosage instructions or matching the brands of makeup popular at the time. As far as the set goes, I liked how the lack of borders between elements of the set seemed to reflect the transience of housing in the show–one moment the cast was in Mark and Roger’s apartment, the next they were on the street.

The last time I watched the 2005 screenplay version of Rent was probably 2018 or so, when I was in ninth grade, and I think a lot of it went over my head, especially the historical elements like the HIV/AIDS crisis. I took a course on social movements this year where we spent a long time analyzing the ACT UP movement, which brought me a whole new level of appreciation for Rent‘s relationship to and portrayal of the epidemic.

I’m glad I got to see SMTD’s last show of the season, and I can’t wait to check out some of their 23/24 lineup when I get back after the summer. Access to so many incredible performances is one of the things I love most about living in Ann Arbor, and if you’re a student reading this, I hope you’ll take this opportunity and make the most of the campus art scene while you’re here.

REVIEW: Everybody

Ella Larsen Leave a comment

2:00pm • Sunday, April 2, 2023 • Arthur Miller Theater

Everybody was a very strange experience. The play is based on the 15th-century play Everyman, a morality tale which uses allegorical characters such as Death, Everyman, Fellowship, Kinship, and Good Deeds, to explain how one attains Christian salvation. This adaptation, written in 2017 by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, modernizes the story into a more inclusive, interfaith exploration of morality, death, and afterlife. Jacobs-Jenkins points out similarities with Buddhist philosophy in the story’s moral framework, and builds upon those similarities by questioning reality and emphasizing points such as Everybody’s attachments to the material world and the self. He also makes the play more interactive, using a lottery at the beginning that determines which actors will play which characters, and opening the play with several of the actors hidden among the audience.

I appreciated how the affordances of the physical space of the Arthur Miller Theater, the elements of audience participation, and the blending of the cast with the audience added to the surreal tone of the play. I wasn’t entirely sure when the performance had actually started, because the “ushers” spent a long scene in the beginning explaining the theater etiquette and executing the lottery. These elements made the play feel personal and “real,” which made the more surreal scenes even more jarring. For example, immediately after bantering cheerfully with the audience and explaining the reasoning behind the play, the ushers became conduits for the voice of God, speaking simultaneously and doing simple, mildly disturbing partner gymnastics while a distorted, echoing recording played over their voices.

By chance, two different cast members sat next to me over the course of the performance. The first was there when I entered the auditorium, noisily interacting with (who I later realized were) other cast members in the audience. The second actor played the role of a random child, which meant that midway through the performance a person in a puffy Alice-in-Wonderland-looking dress entered quietly, plopped down next to me, and rummaged around in her pocket for a Fruit Roll-Up. She put one end in her mouth and unrolled the whole thing into her lap, slowly sucking the strip into her mouth. It was weird, and I was uncomfortable. I felt this brief sense of relief when I realized she was an actor, but also sort of guilty. What if those actors had just been people being people? A more critical awareness of my own “othering” tendencies was an unexpected result of the performance.

I appreciated the weirdness with which SMTD executed this production of Everybody, and I wish the audience had been a little fuller, although it was a Sunday matinee performance. The cast did a great job, and I look forward to hopefully seeing them in some other productions during the next few semesters.

REVIEW: Don Giovanni

Ella Larsen Leave a comment

8:00pm • Saturday, March 25, 2023 • Lydia Mendelssohn Theater

I was skeptical of all the articles I read before attending Don Giovanni that said it encapsulated “the full spectrum of human emotion.” I feel that when I attend live performances, I am easily impressed by talent in singing and dancing, but I’m rarely moved. However, this production of Don Giovanni was genuinely moving. The artists onstage deftly wove between moments of comedy and tragedy, creating an emotional journey that was surprisingly engaging.

Some of my favorite examples include Donna Anna’s reaction after the murder of her father and her duet, “Ah, vendicar, se il puoi, giura quel sangue ognor!” with Don Ottavio, which realistically captured her shock and grief and his devotion.  There were also laugh-out-loud moments, such as the opera’s first interaction between Don Giovanni, Leporello, and Donna Elvira and particularly “Madamina, il catalogo è questo” (although I must qualify that I was more entertained by the delivery of that aria than its contents). Throughout the performance, though her character was often used comedically, I was captivated by Donna Elvira’s complicated combination of longing, betrayal, rage and vengefulness, as well as her piety.

Because I love giving shout-outs to my favorite artists, for this production of Don Giovanni, I want to highlight Sitong Liu (Donna Anna) and Joshua Thomas (Il Commendatore), who had, in my opinion, the most beautiful voices of the evening. Liu’s regality and her icy grief were a stark contrast to some of the more comedic elements of the play, and her voice was breathtakingly clear. I regret that the character of the Commendatore has so few arias, because I would have enjoyed hearing quite a bit more of Thomas’s voice. Finally, my favorite all-around performance was probably from the aptly-named Aria Minasian (Donna Elvira) for her ability to embody both the humor and the darker, more painful emotions of the story. She really had the best facial expressions.

There’s so much to talk about with this opera, but I wanted also to note some dramaturgical choices which were made with this production. The program describes how the production crew wanted to be critical and careful of the themes of abuse and violence towards women, a mindset which I feel they executed well. I could see how they emphasized the relationships and support among community members which make accountability possible in the play, as well as realistically and sensitively portraying the impact of the traumas the female characters experience.

In conclusion, this production of Don Giovanni helped me appreciate opera on a new level. Even though the performance was over two and a half hours long, it remained engaging, and as I continue to reflect on the performance I can dive deeper and deeper into my admiration of the story and the art form.