REVIEW: As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow – The Play

On December 6th, at 5 PM, the Ford Collaboratory in the Mardigian Library became a portal to war-torn Syria through the powerful stage adaptation of Zoulfa Katouh’s As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow. The story, which follows Salama Kassab’s heartbreaking journey through the Syrian civil war, was beautifully translated into a theatrical experience

The play centered on Salama (played by Leila Haddad in a standout performance), a former pharmacy student turned volunteer medic. Leila captureed Salama’s internal struggle with raw, unflinching authenticity. Her portrayal of guilt, hope, and despair—especially in moments of silence—felt like a masterclass in restraint. Haddad’s ability to convey emotion, especially in the quieter, more introspective moments, was mesmerizing.

Image Courtesy: Leila Ghaznavi

However, where the play truly shone was in its staging. Director Amira Shafiq, President of the Theater club, created an intimate, immersive experience that makes the audience feel as though they’re walking alongside Salama in the ruins of Homs. The use of minimalist sets striked a balance between realism and surrealism. The lighting design deserved special mention, with its stark contrasts between the warm glow of past memories and the cold, unforgiving present.

One of the play’s most intriguing choices was the personification of Khawf, Salama’s manifestation of fear. Actor Omar Darwish gave Khawf a chilling yet oddly sympathetic presence. His interactions with Salama—at times antagonistic, at times comforting—perfectly captured the inner turmoil of living through unimaginable horrors. These scenes, while impactful, occasionally slowed the pacing slightly, but they were essential in depicting her mental and emotional state.

The dialogue, much of it drawn directly from the book, was both poetic and raw, though some lines feel better suited to the page than the stage. While some of Salama’s reflections felt a bit expository when spoken aloud, they still carried the emotional weight of her journey.

“Perhaps this could have been remedied with more physical storytelling or additional silences to let the weight of the words sink in,” added Alexis Mohammed, a student at the University of Michigan Dearborn.

The supporting cast also delivered heartfelt performances. Yasmin Agha brought warmth and strength to the role of Layla, Salama’s pregnant best friend, though her limited stage time left her arc feeling somewhat underexplored. Karim Al-Rashed, as Salama’s brother Sami, offered moments of levity and hope, with his final scene leaving the audience in stunned silence.

One of the play’s most powerful moments was the climactic hospital scene. The chaos of wounded civilians flooding in, enhanced by overlapping shouts, frantic movement, and a pulsing soundscape, left both Salama and the audience breathless. It was a visceral reminder of the relentless toll of war.

That said, the play did struggle to capture some of the novel’s nuance, especially in depicting Salama’s quieter moments of healing and growth. The ending, while emotionally charged, felt slightly rushed, leaving the audience including myself, yearning for a deeper exploration of Salama’s transformation.

As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow is a story that demands to be told, and this stage adaptation did justice to its poignant message. With stellar performances, innovative staging, and a deeply personal tone, the December 6th performance was more than a play—it was a call to bear witness, to empathize, and to remember.

REVIEW: Through the Lens: The Henry Ford Estate’s Timeless Beauty

The Nature Photography event at the Environmental Interpretive Center on November 14th was an experience I’ll carry with me for a long time. It wasn’t just about wandering the trails of the Henry Ford Estate; it was about seeing this historic space through the eyes of the students who had captured it with their cameras. Their photographs didn’t just frame the estate—they transformed it, revealing a place I thought I knew in ways I hadn’t imagined.

The Henry Ford Mansion . Photo By Alexa Mckray

The student photographs lined the trails like quiet whispers of their perspectives, each one inviting me to pause and see the Henry Ford Mansion in a new light. The mansion, with its stately stone facade and commanding presence, became more than just a historic landmark through their eyes. One photograph caught the mansion bathed in the soft, golden hues of a sunset, the light making the stone seem alive, glowing with warmth.

Another portrayed it on a misty morning, its edges blurred and softened by fog, giving it an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality. Standing there, with the real mansion towering above me and these interpretations surrounding me, I felt like I was experiencing its many layers—its strength, its mystery, its quietness—all at once.

It was in the orchard where the students’ work really resonated with me. Walking among the bare, twisted trees, I stopped at a photograph of the last apple of the season, clinging stubbornly to its branch. Another image focused on the intricate lines of a gnarled trunk, its bark peeling to reveal the scars of time. These moments, frozen through their lenses, made me pause and look closer at the orchard itself—its beauty, its endurance, its history.

 

Images By Katrina Brown And Kai Richardson

The pond, still and reflective in the late autumn light, was another scene transformed by the students’ photographs. In one, the water was alive with lily pads under the green canopy of summer. In another, it was frozen and dusted with snow, radiating the stillness of winter. Standing there, I felt a deep appreciation for how photography can carry us through time and seasons, reminding us of nature’s constant transformation.

This event wasn’t just about the photographs—it was about the way they made me feel. They invited me to look closer, to see the familiar in a new light, and to connect with the estate in a deeply personal way. Each image wasn’t just a capture of a place but a piece of the student’s perspective, their way of seeing the world.

Walking those trails that day felt like stepping into a conversation—one between the students, the estate, and myself. Their work didn’t just show me the beauty of the Henry Ford Estate; it reminded me how much beauty there is in looking, really looking, at the world around us.

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.

Courtesy of Lester Johnson
26 Wood, Fiber, and Fabric Totems. Courtesy of Lester Johnson

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.

Courtesy Of Lester Johnson
Lynn’s Song and Nerfetiti. Courtesy of Lester Johnson

 

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: 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.

REVIEW: A Night of Swing at UM-Dearborn

Earlier this week, the University of Michigan-Dearborn campus came alive with the sounds of brass horns and swing beats, as Swing Dearborn hosted “Dance Night” with its own performances. What I witnessed was a vibrant celebration of dance, led by Swing Dearborn Vice-President Gabriel Fritz and while I did not know what to expect walking in the room, I walked out with my heart filled with appreciation.

The performances were split into four sets, each offering a different flavor of swing dance. The first routine opened with a classic Jitterbug, with Fritz leading the group. From the very first beat, I was being told a story. His movements were crisp and full of energy, and the way he was able to connect both with us, the audience, and his partner, was enthralling. There was a joyful bounce in every step, and the chemistry in the air was palpable. The playful dips and spins were perfectly timed with the music, creating a visual feast that drew me in. The movements were a conversation.

The second set introduced the Lindy Hop, a faster, more intricate dance style. Here, you could really see what Fritz specialized in. His footwork was precise, and his command of rhythm was impeccable. He transitioned from one complex move to another and it all felt very effortless and smooth. His partner mirrored his energy, and together they created a dynamic performance full of bold aerials and impressive lifts. It reminded me of the sheer physicality required for this style of swing, and I found myself in awe of their stamina and grace.

By the third performance, the mood shifted to something slower and more intimate, with a sultry blues number. The fluidity of his movements during the slower tempo was mesmerizing, and it showed me a different side of swing.—one that’s more about connection and subtlety. This performance felt personal, as if I was ”people watching” the dancers as they communicated with each other through their dance.

The final set was a group performance, featuring both experienced dancers and newcomers and although the ensemble was slightly less polished, it added to the charm of Swing Dearborn. It reminded me how swing was about having fun, rather than it being perfect all the time. I was surrounded by laughter, missed steps, and joyful recovery. Watching everyone be so immersed in the moment was beautiful.

After the performances, the audience was invited to join a 15-minute hands-on lesson and joining them is one of the best decisions I made that night. I thoroughly enjoyed the end of it all. Overall, the event showcased not just the technical brilliance of swing dance but also its capacity to connect people and spread joy. Whether you were an experienced dancer or stepping onto the floor for the first time, the energy of the evening was contagious, leaving everyone with a spring in their step.