REVIEW: Strange You Never Knew

Content Notice: This review contains brief discussion of a historical anti-Asian American hate crime as it relates to this exhibition. 

Strange You Never Knew at the University of Michigan Museum of Art is the first solo exhibition by Chinese American photographer Jarod Lew. In it, he explores the complex realities of the Asian American diaspora in the Midwest, from his personal and family history to larger questions of cultural identity.

The show includes four distinct but intertwined bodies of work. “Please Take Off Your Shoes” and “In Between You And Your Shadow” are collections of Lew’s photography, while “Mimicry” and “The New Challengers Strike Back” incorporate mixed media and appropriation.

In “Please Take Off Your Shoes,” Lew photographs Asian Americans (from family members to strangers he reached out to on social media) in their homes. Lew’s framing and staging draws attention to the relationship between his subjects and the objects that surround them in their homes. During his artist talk for the exhibition’s opening, Lew described how during his photoshoots for this collection, he and his subjects would go from feeling like the “most Asian thing in the room” in one space, to the “least Asian thing in the room” in another. Some of the participants in his project sit in rooms full of traditional Chinese furniture and art, others surrounded by American kitsch—many in a mix of both.

Jarod Lew, “The Most American Thing (Tina),” 2021, From “Please Take Off Your Shoes.” Image courtesy of the artist.

This juxtaposition of Chinese and American decor is recreated elsewhere in the immersive presentation of “Mimicry.” Tucked away in the center of the gallery is a replica of a living room, with an old-fashioned couch and glass-topped coffee table, decorated with East Asian-style vases and a ceramic Laughing Buddha statue. Atop a stack of books (which alternate between Western and Eastern art history subjects) sits a slide projector, which automatically rotates through a slideshow of found and altered images. Some are found photos of mid-century Asian American families, others of white American families onto which Jarod Lew has superimposed his own face, and still others of a white suburban family’s 1954 “Chinese Block Party.” Distinguishing them from each other requires scrutinizing the small projected photos in the short time before the slideshow flips forward, asking the viewer to pay careful attention to the nuances of cultural appropriation.

Lew is intentional with the gaze of his subjects, whether he is directing it at his audience or obscuring it. In many of his photographs, especially in “Please Take Off Your Shoes,” the subjects stare straight into the camera with neutral expressions, in a way that is not quite confrontational but still a little unsettling. The viewer feels as if they have intruded into these private spaces, or perhaps have been invited into them on the condition of good behavior (and leaving one’s shoes at the door).

The complementary photography collection “In Between You and Your Shadow,” balancing out the other half of the gallery’s symmetrical layout, grapples even more with privacy and the intrusion of the camera into its subjects’ lives. The collection is centered on Lew’s mother, whose face is obscured in every shot by flares of light, deliberately placed objects, or other photographic tricks that hide her from full view. Lew discovered at age twenty-five that his mother had been engaged to a Chinese American man named Vincent Chin, who was murdered in an anti-Asian hate crime in Highland Park, Michigan in 1982. This deeply traumatic history, revealed to visitors in the collection’s exhibition text, gives an emotional weight to the way Lew’s mother is obscured in his photographs. It reflects her choice to hide her past from her children in order to protect them, but is also a gesture of protection itself, allowing her to remain a measure of privacy even in the focus of the camera lens.

Jarod Lew, “Untitled (Wedding picture)”, 2021, from “In Between You and Your Shadow.” Image courtesy of the artist.

Lew dives further into the history of violence against Asian Americans in “The New Challengers Strike Back,” a multimedia work that incorporates found media. The work ties acts of violence against Asian Americans to symbolic acts of violence against Asian-made cars. A news clip from shortly before the murder of Vincent Chin shows white Americans smashing a Toyota car in front of a Chinese restaurant, demonstrating the resentment of the Japanese auto industry that motivated the hate crime against Chin. It is presented alongside a modified bonus level from Super Street Fighter II: The New Challengers which also involves destroying a Toyota. Viewers are invited to pick up the controller and participate in the destruction, which resets after a few seconds.

These two complementary works are a creative use of multimedia, and conceptually strong, but despite the interactive element they are perhaps the least engaging part of a strong exhibition. They are direct and clear in their message, but feel blunt in comparison to the nuances of Lew’s other work.

Ultimately I found myself lingering with the large-format photographs, wanting to take the time to fully understand the figures captured by the lens. The layer of mystery in each staged-yet-personal scene invites longer contemplation. Other elements of the exhibition add interest and depth, but Lew’s masterful photography steals the show.

Strange You Never Knew is on display at UMMA through June 15.

REVIEW: Freaky Tales

“Freaky Tales” certainly lives up to its name in a genre-bending, horror-comedy-action thriller love letter to the Bay Area in the 80s, which, as said in the tagline, was “hella freaky.”

The movie is divided into four chapters with different characters, plots, and energies all interspersed with what it calls the freaky green lightning of Oakland, California in 1987. From alternative teenagers fighting Nazis to a rap battle between newcomer duo Danger Zone and Too Short to the murder of a retired hitman’s pregnant wife, the final chapter connects all of the characters in a house robbery-gone-wrong turned revenge murder spree. 

The plots are all over the place; the star-studded cast, including Pedro Pascal, Normani, and even Ben Mendelsohn, never gets more screen time than lesser-known actors. So what is truly the central character and thesis of the movie? It’s the city itself.

However, as someone who has never visited or lived in California — let alone Oakland, let alone in the 80s — a lot of the references went over my head. Only in later research did I learn that every story took place at real places with real people and even during some real historical events. Bay Area rapper Too Short, whose song “Freaky Tales” is where the film gets its name, is a character in the film and even has a cameo himself.  The “Sleepy Floyd” basketball game that happens in the fourth chapter, where Warriors player Sleepy Floyd scored a record 29 points in the fourth quarter to defeat the Lakers, is a real event. The film dropped a hefty budget to shoot on-location in Oakland at classic spots like a Giant Burger and the Grand Lake Theatre and recreate legendary 924 Gilman and Sweet Jimmie’s

But instead of wondering about the visual artistry and history of the setting, my attention was distracted by the gory scenes in chapters 1, 3, and 4. This was particularly a shame, as the film utilized different aspect ratios, filters, and animated graphics to emphasize the 80s aesthetic. Especially because of the ending fight scenes, I was left wondering just how much of the budget was allocated for fake blood. It was very campy, tying into the campy nature of its depiction of the 80s, with exaggerated outfits from jumpsuits to spike wrist guards; but there seemed to be a never ending stream of (comically) violent sequences that quickly got old.

“Sleepy Floyd” in an advertisement for his mindfulness program, Psytopics.

When I wasn’t distracted by flying body parts and punctured jugulars, the emotional whiplash of the different chapters was distracting enough. The acting in the first chapter, centered around friends Lucid (Jack Champion) and Tina (Ji-young Yoo), was weaker than the rest, although superstars like Pedro Pascal set a high bar to match. But it had a happy ending, and so did the second chapter, leaving the audience totally unprepared for what was to come in chapters 3 and 4. As co-director Anna Boden says, it is an “action packed genre mixtape of a movie;” but I would call it a gruesome action-packed emotional rollercoaster. 

I was not the intended audience for this film, and if I was, my opinions would likely be much different. But unless you fit that context (or enjoy sincerely weird movies), I would not recommend shelling out to see it.

REVIEW: Seong-Jin Cho, Piano

Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

On February 7th at Hill Auditorium, pianist Seong-Jin Cho delivered a phenomenal performance of the complete solo piano works of Maurice Ravel. The concert lasted three hours, yet Cho memorized and played every piece with unwavering precision and passion. Funnily enough, before the concert began, an audience member behind me exclaimed that even a one-hour program of Ravel would be too long; I’d bet money they changed their mind by the end of the night.

Cho’s global reputation skyrocketed after winning First Prize at the 2015 Chopin International Competition in Warsaw. Since then, he has performed with the Berlin Philharmoniker, where Cho is currently the artist in residence, as well as the London Symphony Orchestra, Boston Symphony Orchestra, and more. 

At Hill, Cho’s ability to breathe life into the piano showed why he’s so sought after. He merged with the instrument in body and soul. Even when the music consisted of a single repeating note, it was beautiful and each tone rang with a pure, bell-like clarity. No matter how fast the glissando flew by, you could still hear each note sing. The lyrical lines blended seamlessly, yet I could distinguish which hand played which dynamics, melodies, and harmonies—even with my eyes closed. Cho never once seemed to lose focus or stamina.

The first piece, Sérénade grotesque, had a delicate, elusive character that made its theme hard to pinpoint. Menuet antique felt more tangible. Pavane pour une infante défunte evoked a giddy feeling of raindrops and fairy footsteps from melodic flurries and vast glissandos. Cho then moved into the peaceful Jeux d’eau and ended the first section of the night with the Sonatine, whose three movements featured harp-like textures.

 

 

After intermission, Cho resumed with Miroirs, whose five movements flowed so smoothly it felt like a single movement. In Gaspard de la nuit, I was struck by the soft yet clean notes—something I’ve always found difficult to bring out on the piano. 

Following the second break, Menuet sur le nom d’Haydn became one of the night’s highlights. It immediately captured my heart with chords that built into a dreamy atmosphere. Valses nobles et sentimentales brought me back to reality with dancing energy, especially in the Presque lent – dans un sentiment intime movement, which glittered. The followingPrélude carried a bittersweet emotion, while À la manière de Borodine surprised me with a melody that made me imagine horses frolicking. Similarly, À la manière de Chabrier resembled cheerful skipping. 

The final piece, Le Tombeau de Couperin, offered the most variety. Its six movements formed an emotional arc—sprightly, meek, brash, romantic—culminating in the last movement Toccata. Vif. That movement was especiallydemanding, ebbing and flowing between repeated notes, lush lines, and anxious descents that Cho played with awe-inspiring control. 

I’m glad this performance introduced me to the beauty of Ravel’s piano works. Cho’s ability to freely shape dynamics made him the perfect soloist to perform Ravel’s dreamy musicality. It had been a long time since I attended a solo piano recital, so this performance showed me how a soloist can express more subtle and endearing musical expressions even without the grandeur of an orchestra.

 

REVIEW: Mickey 17

Science fiction meets satire in an explosive way in “Mickey 17” — but there is simultaneously too much and not enough of either.

Set in 2054, main character Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson, “The Batman”) signs up to be an Expendable on the newest space colony expedition to Niflheim after receiving death threats from a loan shark following a failed macaron business venture with his best friend, Timo (Steven Yuen, “Beef”). However, he soon realizes that not reading the paperwork thoroughly was a mistake. As an Expendable, Mickey is sent to do the most dangerous jobs and used as a human guinea pig for the research team onboard. Every time he dies, his memory is simply reuploaded into a newly reprinted version of his body. Meanwhile, failed politician Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo, “The Avengers”) commands the future colony full of his red-hat-wearing fans with a camera crew in tow, undeserved bravado, and promises of one day reproducing to make a “pure race.”

Once they reach the famed planet, however, native creatures they name “creepers” become a barrier to breaking ground. During an exploratory mission, Mickey miraculously survives a terrible fall. But by the time he makes it back to the ship, another Mickey has already been reprinted; and with “multiples” strictly forbidden under penalty of death, the angrier Mickey 18 and a milder Mickey 17 must keep their existence under wraps.

“Mickey 17” is director Bong Joon Ho’s most recent project after his award-winning film “Parasite.” Bong’s newest film is an amalgamation of genres: satire, horror, science fiction, and comedy, with a few touchingly romantic moments. From start to finish, the film is defined by absurdism. Mickey’s failed business, which was based around misunderstanding that “macarons are the new hamburgers,” sets the tone for a protagonist who has stumbled into something far beyond his understanding.

Ruffalo’s character, while officially inspired by an amalgamation of different tyrannical rulers, reads (at least to the audience at the showing I attended) as a parody of Donald Trump. His reality show-style governance, blonde wife, and red-hat-wearing followers make the connection undeniable. While this satire is amusing at first, its relentless intensity becomes exhausting over the two-hour runtime, growing more repetitive than revelatory.

Pattinson, on the other hand, carries the film with an engaging performance that oscillates between bewildered desperation and deadpan humor. His portrayal of both Mickey 17 and Mickey 18 gives each iteration of his character a distinct edge, subtly differentiating their personalities with their motivations, mannerisms, and even accents. However, the film never quite allows him to fully explore the psychological implications of multiplicity, treating the idea of splitting consciousness as more of a plot device than a deep thematic concern.

Despite its many strengths, “Mickey 17” ultimately feels unfocused. Is it a commentary on environmental protectionism? A philosophical exploration into the implications of dividing consciousness? Or an elaborate vessel for scathing critique of right-wing politics? It might be all of these things, but none stand out as the film’s central thesis.

The concept of the Expendables had the potential to be something profound, but instead, the film brushes past it in a brief flashback explanation about why reprinting technology is only allowed on Earth. This missed opportunity leaves “Mickey 17” feeling like a film bursting with ideas yet unwilling to fully commit to any of them. While entertaining, it leaves the audience wondering: What was the ultimate point?

REVIEW: Michigan Youth Mariachi Festival 2025

“Viva Mexico!” Sombreros raise high in the cool stage air as a large community of passionate individuals come together to celebrate the history and culture of Mexico through the art of music and dance.

Not many people are familiar with the art of Mariachi and Folklórico dance, so it was an inviting experience to have such talented youth in our college community of UM-Flint. Mariachi is a style of music and dance deeply embedded in Mexican culture. Traditional Mariachi includes instruments many are familiar with, such as the guitar, violin, and trumpet. Also included are native lesser known instruments such as the Guitarron (a six string acoustic bass with a deep body) as well as the vihuela (a small five string guitar). Mariachi also heavily uses the voice both for singing as well as a certain vocal technique known as  El Grito. El Grito is a traditional combination of a cry and a laugh that passionately represents the Independence of Mexico and past civic celebrations. The singing style felt very rustic and crafted with love. It gave a sense of uplift in me, a sense of pride for what I had and what to celebrate. This cultural showcase concert was organized and led by El Ballet Folklórico Estudiantil, a leading music program based in Flint, Michigan.

The early afternoon concert was filled with students of many backgrounds coming together to celebrate Mexican tradition. What I really enjoyed about this concert was the vast inclusion of levels of experience. The concert opened with the instructors of the program, followed by student ensembles such as the Mariachi Knights, Mariachi los Tigres, Mariachi Alebrijes, and the Beginning Mariachi. Not only as a concert attendee but also as an assistant volunteer, I was shocked and amazed to know that the last few songs of the program were learned over only two days. This goes to show how strong the education program is, and as well it shows the dedication and strength of the musicians to come together and work as one over something completely new. Groups from Flint to Detroit displayed to me wonderful tunes that had me clapping along in my seat.

Mariachi music is often based on melodies from folk songs from other regions in Mexico. As an audience member I can recount several melodic lines that I had previously come across in early piano study course books, many of which also take from universal folk songs. One of the songs on the program featured a classical vocal work, Por Ti, Volaré by Andrea Bocelli.  The Mariachi sound mixed with a new context of a classical vocals, created a beautiful rendition of the work. The ensemble of trumpet, violin, and voice led by Brandon Sexton, produced a performance that elicited resounding applause from the audience.

One of the lead Instructors, Gino Rivera, guided the group from the morning rehearsal right up to the concert’s opening note. What Gino Rivera loves about teaching mariachi to young students is seeing the progress, growth, and confidence in people. He noted that many people of Mexican background my feel alone or even ashamed of their ancestry, but being in Mariachi allows them to find their identity outside of the house and truly thrive. Exposing culture to a more public eye strengthens the beliefs and passions of those looking to grow. Music transverses all cultures, and is a great way to express the history of many.

Sue Quintanilla, Founder and Director of El Ballet Folklórico Estudiantil hopes to grow and strengthen the community. Anyone Interesting in joining the program can visit the website, ebfedance.org for more information. I hope to see more from the group in the future and I am so glad I was able to indulge in this beautiful cultural experience.

(Photography credited to Nathan Cross, ncrossmusic@gmail.com)

REVIEW: A Year With Frog and Toad

Ribbits, chirps, and croaks take the stage for the spring at the University of Michigan Flint Theater. This fast paced adventure reminds audiences of all ages to take life a step at a time and slow down to smell the flowers, or in this case Toad’s fresh but slightly burnt cookies. The musical that I saw this past Sunday was one that I have been excited to attend for awhile. The Story of Frog and Toad began as a children’s book by Arnold Lobel. It is a book I remember in my childhood before I even entered middle school. From the vintage looking illustrations to the soft spoken easy digestible text. It had left me truly excited to see my childhood characters envisioned through a live production. This university production was directed by Stephanie Dean

The strongest things about the director’s vision had to be the comedy and the heavily lean in on characters traits. As a reviewer, this is the first musical I have seen in over five years. The work that goes into production often goes over my head. Actors are tasked to not only sing and dance but to act and provide stage presents that represents the source material. The pair of friends represented this to a point. On this specific performance however, one of the lead actors portraying the character Frog was out sick. (Morgan Wright) Either the actor had croaked or developed a frog in their throat is unclear, but the show went on with a new actress to play the green and jolly protagonist. Taylor Boes as Frog, and Noah Anthony as Toad tied together a tag team performance that fit like peanut butter and jelly. The character of Frog, an optimist who always say the bright side of life, always had something to say to Toad’s woes. I especially felt Noah portrayed toad astoundingly well. If I had to give a voice to the character from the book it would be something very similar to what I had seen that week. Toad’s voice always has this slight worry, always thinking of the problems in his life even though they may not be the greatest problem at the moment.  An example of this is toad worrying about burning his cookies for his friends due to the fact his clock was broken. The Dynamic between the characters set up great humor and made me realize how anxious I myself get at some very small things.

Some people feel that musicals are often slow and can be tiring at times, but the pace of this was anything but. The whole production captured a year of the friends lives. Seasons only lasted minutes and it was a true treat to see the props, lighting, and overall scenes change. Orange lights filled with autumn leaves, winter blues, and Styrofoam snow littered the set, and cool summer nights and an occasional thunderstorm heavily set the tone of each scene. From raking leaves, making cookies, sledding, and even simply sleeping can shows audiences members that they can find joy in life’s simple moments. The funniest joke had to be from a side character though. After Frog had took notice that Toad never receives mail (Another thing for Toad to lose his cool about), Frog employs a friendly snail to deliver a kind note to his house. In a toad-ally hilarious callback joke, the incredibly slow snail takes nearly the entire musical to reach Toad’s residence. Good clean humor like this accompanies the whole performance. It’s the simple comedy that gets me, it puts a innocent spin that reminds me of my childhood. Being a person who may not be the target audience of this production I found myself laughing out loud much louder than my  toddler audience members.

Another thing I must mention is the score and music. Although I would love to see a live pit ensemble one day in my university, the backing tracks of light jazz and Broadway melodies made the original scores magical. My Favorite song from this production had to be “Toad looks silly in a bathing suit” The Frog actress of this production had such a beautiful voice and I can also clearly hear Toad’s character even when he was singing. I do feel at times, the dynamic range of the actors could be greater. You can hear it in the score that the musical called for over the top Broadway level “Bring it home” style of singing. Sometimes I feel the singing was a bit more safe. This may be due to it being not only the final show but also the family show. Some things may have been altered but I feel the actors were so close to greatness but just a bit more “mmph” would have taken the musical over the top and don’t you frog-et it. Even with that note, I felt the dancing and staging were very professionally broadcasted. The old New Orleans style jazz being accompanied by having all the animals do variations of the Charleston dance fit the mood heavily. High kicking and spins revealed how much care the actor’s put into their animal, and It was lovely to be a part of it.

It was a real shame that I was unable to take photographs of the live musical due to copyright reasons. The set designs of Toad’s Mushroom house felt incredibly cozy. Being an audience member felt as if I was transformed to be the size of a mouse. For one season, Frog recounts his memory of being lost and separated from his parents. Frog comes across a large and terrible Cannibal frog. The Production then reveals a large artistic puppet that spanned over 10 feet about the ground, fit with terrifying claws and large menacing red eyes. I myself am I big fan of practical effects, so seeing this I felt the art was being honored from passed productions and it is such a nice sight to see the efforts of practical effects still being put to work to this day.

 

Overall this was a very pleasant work to both listen to and watch. The set and props were very creative and I can see clearly how much effort both actors and backstage crew worked on making an excellent performance. One last thing I noticed is what seems to be the use of generative AI artwork for the programs cover of the performance. Generative AI being the first thing patrons see before engaging in the disciplines and hard efforts of actual artists on our campus is a huge slap in the face to the art community.  I was questioning to include this detail as I can not fully confirm if the cover uses generative AI, but I know past advertising efforts on campus have used AI images to promote art performances, and no artist seems to be credited for the illustration. Not to mention minor details in the illustration that do not make sense, nor is it reflective of the book’s original illustration. It is with deep apologies if I have misreported but I felt it was concerning enough for me to mention it. I hope to see more musicals from my university, I am always excited to see more. I may even audition for one in the future.