REVIEW: Samara Joy comes to Ann Arbor

Let me start this off by saying that I don’t have much experience in music. It started with the obligatory piano lessons in first grade from my Korean parents, then a short-lived, shame-riddled violin career in eighth grade that never left the classroom. That’s all to say that I have little to no credentials to be reviewing Samara Joy, two-time Grammy-winning jazz vocalist at only twenty-four. Yet here I am, still listening to her hit album, Linger Awhile, and writing my thoughts on her performance. This “review” will be drawn from the haphazard notes I took from March 27, meant to be more of a poetic retelling of my experience than a critique of the evening.

Joy’s performance began with a phone loudly ringing and a baby’s cry slowly fading off as they were escorted out from their seat. Still, Samara’s lilting voice reverberated as she took the audience across the map of her musical notes. The accompanying band fell into her rhythm, Evan Sherman on the drums shining in particular as his light beats sped through the composition. The crowd stilled as Joy went through her vocal runs, until we broke into cheers of awe. Following family tradition, Samara joy began singing in church and later at a jazz band at Fordham High School for the Arts. She later attended SUNY Purchase’s jazz studies program, meeting the late Barry Harris, to whom Linger Awhile is dedicated to.

Throughout the program, there were moments where each artist could shine; Jason Charos on trumpet took the stage in You Stepped Out of a Dream (Nacio Herb Brown, lyrics by Gus Kahn) as Samara stepped to the side, her vocals accompanying the lead of his trumpet. Trombonist Donovan Austin got the limelight as he performed his original A Fool In Love Is A Clown, a slower rendition from the previous song. Transitions between instrumentation and vocals were incredibly seamless, the synergy pulsating from the stage.

The lighting team were part of this synergy; the slow shift of magenta into blues, rimmed with a golden light at the perimeter. A truly beautiful moment was when the light shifted into a red pink hue as A Kiss From You (Benny Carter) opened up, and later, into a soft purple as Now and Then (Barry Harris), arranged by alto saxophonist David Mason, was performed.

Perhaps one of my favorites was Samara Joy’s take on Sweet Bumpkin, originally written by Ronnell Bright and later covered by Gloria Lynne. The genre blending, the plays with silences, pauses, skips of beat, before sliding back into a playful burst of energy. Kendric McCallister on tenor saxophone particularly shined during this performance. And of course, I have to give a shoutout to the classic bossa nova Chega de Saudade (Antônio Carlos Jobim, lyrics by Vinícius de Moraes), which has been a top track in one of my many playlists, truly highlighting the beautiful duo performance between Charos and Donavan Austin on trombone.

More information of Samara Joy’s tour can be found on her website, and if you can’t make it to one of these venues, I highly recommend you all to listen to her music on any of your streaming platforms. A big thank you to UMS for their amazing programs; more can be found on their site!

Image thanks to the University Musical Society.

REVIEW: Perfect Days

I walked into the screening of Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days expecting an idyllic film, something easy to pass my evening time. I hadn’t expected to leave the theater, with the girl sitting next to me sobbing profusely, unable to stand.

The movie follows the daily routines of Hirayama (Kôji Yakusho), a toilet cleaner in Tokyo. He wakes before light, tends to his plants, drinks his morning coffee from the vending machine, and drives off to begin work at his first public bathroom. We listen to his cassette tapes, featuring the likes of The Velvet Underground, The Animals, Sachiko Kanenobu, Nina Simone, and of course, Lou Reed’s Perfect Day. He eats his sandwich on his lunch break, staring up at the sunlight peeking through the canopy, and snaps a shot on his film camera. Before bed, he reads his current book he picks up from the same bookstore he visits from the time before. I was enthralled by the pure simplicity of these scenes. A gentle, yet profound storytelling, executed beautifully by Yakusho.

I was there with him, feeling the anxieties, shyness, frustrations as he moved about his day. There is drama, but it never feels excessive. I had talked about the movie with friends afterwards, and the main thing I felt, I think, was hope. A hope for some sense of contentment in the solitude of Hirayama’s life, a peace in the bustling city of Tokyo, an earnest appreciation for nature. All the quiet moments and details we may have missed, constructed this hope within me. Hirayama barely spoke throughout, and yet he touched my heart so dearly.

The ending scene, which I won’t spoil for those of you who haven’t watched it yet, had devastated me. It was a hollowness that I wasn’t expecting to feel when I read the synopsis (and I’m sure the person sitting next to me didn’t expect it either). What I had initially felt as somehow romantic is actually so deeply rooted in our reality. The movie is so human, in its simplicity, beauty, and loneliness. The same joy derived from routine, the little moments, and even from old habits, can be the same ones that break us down. And yet, we keep moving forward.

I’ll definitely be going back in to watch this movie again. I can’t help that it became one of my favorite films of the last year, even if it sends me into a mild existential crisis.

 

124 minutes. Rated PG for drinking, smoking, partial nudity. Original language in Japanese, with subtitles. In theaters now.

Image thanks to The Los Angeles Times.