Category: Arts

REVIEW: Ragamala Dance Company, Written in Water

Neha Srinivasan Leave a comment

I’ve seen a fair number of bharatanatyam performances over my time at college, but Written in Water was different. Firstly, it’s the only one that has used a live accompaniment. The performance was already astounding in itself, but the music added another layer of depth to it, and made it even more so. The music was written by Prema Ramamurthy and Amir ElSaffar, the latter of which performed himself through UMS only two days before Ragamala’s show. ElSaffar makes his music by blending styles, primarily Sufi music and jazz, and that emphasis on fusion really came through at the show, where traditional bharatanatyam accompaniment was blended with Sufi and jazz styles. An acquaintance of mine that also went to the concert mentioned that the jazz added a familiar element, something that she, as someone unfamiliar with bharatanatyam or Sufi music, could relate to. ElSaffar’s vocals added a sense of melancholy to the performance, which fit really well with the emotions that the dancers were portraying at the time.

The dancers themselves were beautiful. Bharatanatyam is most often a solo dance, but there were five dancers who performed in the show. I couldn’t believe how good their synchrony was. Every time they performed a movement together, not only was the timing perfect, but the details—like the angles of their hands—were perfect too. They all exhibited such grace on the stage. There are some movements in bharatanatyam that involve balancing on one foot, and everyone who performed such a movement during the show did so effortlessly. Watching it, it seemed as though they could easily go on standing like that for an eternity. That bespeaks a strength that only comes after years of devotion to that art. Emotion is also integral to the dance. Written in Water focuses on emotions, on human life, states of being, and the quest for the divine. The dancers were all superb at conveying the emotions present in their choreography not just through their movements but also with their facial expressions. Their costumes also were fairly simple compared to those in other performances I’ve seen in the past, which drew even more attention to their movements and their expressions.

The Ragamala performers dancing on the Snakes and Ladders gameboard, designed specifically for Written in Water by Keshav, to music played by the musicians on the left.

 

The last piece of this performance was the visual art they used as a backdrop. The Chennai-based visual artist Keshav created each piece of art they used, and his style melded perfectly with the other aspects of the performance. The paintings, which helped to further elucidate the concepts the dancers were illustrating, were absolutely beautiful. One of the paintings, possibly the most important to the piece, was of a Snakes and Ladders gameboard, which was one of the three concepts through which the show explored the previously mentioned themes. They danced right on top of the gameboard, showing triumph as they ascended the board or sinuous motions as they descended a snake (this was helpful for me, since from where I was sitting I couldn’t see the floor of the stage). I love the idea of interacting with the floor: I’ve always seen the ground as an essential element in bharatanatyam, because the dancers mark time by stamping the ground, and the gungurus they wear on their ankles accent those footfalls. So to see them use the floor as more than a surface was really wonderful. It is also interesting that even when they were not exploring the gameboard, they often used a projection of one of the other paintings that was part of the performance. I talked to Aparna Ramaswamy after the performance, and she mentioned how carefully they choreographed around the artwork, so that they would use it to its fullest extent but simultaneously refrain from stepping on important symbols or otherwise disrespecting the artwork and traditions it represented. It was amazing to see that level of attention to detail in this show, and that element was consistent in every aspect of this masterful performance.

Written in Water is the only bharatanatyam performance UMS has put on in the four years I’ve been here. I hope such a breathtakingly exquisite show as this encourages them to invite more bharatanatyam performers to Ann Arbor.

A visual art exhibition by Ed Bock. It details the past 25 years of Ragamala’s performances, putting the images together onto one panel of fabric. Entitled “Six Yards of Memory,” this represents the six yards that is the standard length of a sari.

REVIEW: The Milk Carton Kids

Aria Gerson Leave a comment

I thought when I went to The Ark for Tuesday’s Milk Carton Kids show that I was getting a low-key acoustic show. I got that, but also so much more. At times funny, ridiculous, and bittersweet, The Milk Carton Kids and their opener Sammy Miller and the Congregation defied description in a concert I won’t be forgetting any time soon.

The name Sammy Miller and the Congregation sounds like a throwback to the Jazz Age, but theirs wasn’t a traditional jazz show. In fact, they told us, they were banned from the genre of jazz for reasons that were implied to be related to their production of a “jopera:” a jazz opera that eschewed any genre. The band incorporated theatrical elements, humor, and even a little pop music into their set. Their jopera was weird and wonderful, incorporating costumes, singing, and even a nonsensical storyline (an essential part of any opera). They engaged the audience, sometimes leaving stage and returning via the seats, as actors often do. I’m still not sure how to describe what I saw, but I know I was entertained.

The Milk Carton Kids, a duo consisting of Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan, couldn’t have been more different in style and substance from their opener. Their sole instruments were two acoustic guitars. They wore suits and stood around one mic while they performed a set of mostly melancholy folk songs. But they, too, injected a surprising amount of humor into their set in their pre-song introductions.

At the beginning of the set, for instance, Kenneth confessed that he was watching the World Series on a device hidden in his bag (I don’t blame him). That joke recurred throughout, and there were times when Joey would start introducing a song and Kenneth would stand at the back of the stage, tuning his guitar and clearly peering into his bag. The whole audience was laughing at their intros, which were at turns funny, awkward, and self-effacing. It was an odd juxtaposition; it was almost as if they were performing a comedy show in between their folk concert.

The music itself was entertaining for very different reasons. I was impressed by the band’s harmonies, particularly on their slower songs. The intimate setup of The Ark and the songs’ sparse arrangements really brought out those harmonies. One song I particularly enjoyed was “I Only See the Moon,” a song from their upcoming album. Their penultimate song “Michigan” was also a highlight. Luckily, they were lying when they sang “Michigan’s in the rearview mirror” and came out for an encore.

I also enjoyed listening to the lyrics of the songs they played. Many were about traditional topics of contemporary folk, such as melancholy memories and places of the past, but others were political or even happy and upbeat. I allowed myself to sit back and get lost in the imagery of the lyrics, something that’s not possible at other types of concerts.

Though the Milk Carton Kids aren’t the kind of band I regularly listen to, and their concert wasn’t the kind of concert I usually attend, I was glad I went. The music was beautiful and the spoken interludes were entertaining. I’d never seen anything like this concert before, and I have a feeling I won’t ever again. But I’ll remember every bit: the humor and the harmonies, the beautiful and the weird.

REVIEW: “A-maize-ing” SMTD

kschubring Leave a comment

The University of Michigan is hosting an overwhelming number of events this weekend in celebration of the bicentennial, and it’s been wonderful to see how all of the different schools within the University have found a way to celebrate what they do. Some schools have hosted high-stakes competitions, others have started important dialogues with the community, and still others have found unique ways to share the talents and accomplishments of their students with an audience. This seemed to be the purpose of Friday night’s “A-maize-ing SMTD” program in Hill Auditorium, and I am confident that School of Music, Theater, and Dance accomplished its goal of celebrating the talent of the student body with an appreciative audience.

The 90-minute program was similar in design to Michigan’s well-known, annual Collage concert: a wide variety of high-quality, 4-minute acts from all departments within SMTD followed one another in rapid succession. There was no intermission, but the house lights were left on so that audience members could feel free to enter and exit the space at their leisure.

I was glad to have stayed for the entire concert. I thoroughly enjoyed the pacing and wide variety of the evening. The program darted between exceptional performances of classical chamber music, to theatrical performances, to jazz-inspired grooves, representing the talents of several Michigan composers, actors, dancers, singers, and instrumentalists.

While every performance was engaging and showcased the utmost artistry and professionalism, the acts that stood out to me most were the ones with music composed by a living, Michigan-based composer. Nathan Thatcher’s Ebb & Flow for flute, viola, and harp sparkled magnificently alongside the graceful, yet large, light-strewn, ribbony river puppets created by a Michigan puppetry class. I felt very lucky to relive an excerpt of composer Douglas Hertz and choreographer Al Evangelista’s Saeculum (which premiered earlier this year), a massive feat of collaboration between composer, chamber choir, string quartet, and dancers, as the piece is difficult to perform. Professor Stephen Rush’s miniature funk opera cast the founding of this institution in a very different light (although I do wish that the sound had been mixed better, so that I could have appreciated all of the sharp remarks). The Vanguard Reed Quintet and Sapphirus Saxophone Quartet exuded immaculate tone and blend in their performances of works by Michigan alums and faculty. Tristan Cappel’s quartet performed his own relentless, rhythmically and harmonically tight jazz composition for two saxophones, bass, and drums.

As a student of the SMTD, it always brings me joy whenever I get to watch my talented friends and colleagues perform. “A-maize-ing SMTD” was wonderful because it was a rare opportunity to see multiple performing arts departments onstage together. Watching this performance certainly made me proud to be a Wolverine.

 

PREVIEW: The Milk Carton Kids

Aria Gerson Leave a comment

I used to think I didn’t like folk music, but that was before I went to The Ark. From my first show, I was hooked. Folk is usually centered around simple instrumentation and exquisite harmonies, which combined with the venue’s exceptional acoustics is a match made in heaven. The Ark only seats 400, so even the introduction to a song can feel like an intimate conversation with the band. After the show, you can often meet them.

This Halloween, if costumes and haunted houses aren’t your thing, here’s an alternative: come to The Ark to see The Milk Carton Kids! They’re an indie folk duo that has been nominated for a Grammy, toured with The Lumineers, and been praised by Sara Bareilles, and they even have a song called Michigan. The Ark’s website sums them up using the phrase “haunting vocal harmonies” and that alone is enough to make me want to drop everything and come to The Ark Tuesday night.

The Milk Carton Kids with opening act Sammy Miller and the Congregation come to The Ark Tuesday, October 31 at 8:00 PM. You can buy general admission tickets for $35 at The Ark, at the Michigan Union Ticket Office, or online at theark.org.

REVIEW: Gook

kjwuzhere Leave a comment

Gook is a remarkable film, one that manages to balance both art and emotion. From the eerie beginning of Kamilla, the young black girl, dancing jerkily and strangely in front of what appears to be the burning shoe store, to the end of the movie, Gook is beautiful and poignant. It shifts tones deftly, and will go from making you laugh to inducing rage within seconds without any of that awkwardness one is used to feeling. Furthermore, the film explores the lives of poor Korean-Americans and the strife between their community and the black community whom they share the streets of LA with–in this way, the film already stands out from other films that focus on the lives of those in the ghetto and seeks to tell a story that hasn’t been told before.

Perhaps the film’s greatest strength is its characters. Each character has his or her own set of motives and desires that feel fully fleshed out despite having little if anything to do with the plot (such as one of the brother’s desire to become an R&B singer). None of them are stereotypes, and though viewers are going to be most sympathetic towards the brothers and Kamilla, the “villains” of the movie remain sympathetic, for the film shows how their anger comes from a place of hurt, how no one in this movie has been or will be capable of moving on from an unshown tragedy that happened years before this day, how grief and violence go hand in hand.

Though the movie describes itself as following this set of characters on the day of the Rodney King riots, the riots intersect with the characters only rarely. The drama of the movie is more personal than that. While the riots drone in the background, the characters rush towards their own startling and tragic confrontation, this sort of mirrored image of the riots. To use history in this way is a bold decision–it is easy to make films where the drama lies in a big event that everyone already knows the conclusion of–here, the historical elements are another layer to an already well-made film and not the substance of the story. Still, though the scenes we encounter that have to do with the riots are limited, they are impactful enough that no one would accuse this film as adding them in to give the movie more substance.

It is impossible to talk about Gook without comparing it to last year’s Moonlight. Both are films focusing on race and class matters, adolescence in the ghetto, and both have similar styles in scenes, preferring to hit viewers with dramatic images accompanied by violins, and each work well with their palette of choice. Gook, despite its black and white aesthetic, is probably more approachable for most people–unlike Moonlight, it has a cohesive and limited (the events of the movie occur in one day, instead of over a lifetime) plot and the artistic elements don’t detract from the emotional scenes. Unfortunately, Gook had a limited release and shows no signs of taking off like Moonlight did.

 

REVIEW: Pigpen Theatre Co.

Abbey Rose Leave a comment

Singer-songwriter David Luning entered the stage as the opening act. The audience came to a hush and the lights dimmed as he plugged in his acoustic-electric guitar and began picking away gently at the strings. The venue reminded me of The Listening Room Cafe in Nashville, Tennessee with its small stage, intimate lighting, and attentive audience. David stood on stage naturally, tuning his guitar and telling stories. He warmed the audience with his banter and humility. When he began to sing, you could feel the emotion in his voice and recognize the authenticity of his words. The personal stories he would tell between songs brought the audience into his life. He enraptured the audience with his adeptness on the guitar, his compelling voice, and his ability to engage people.

                                 10.20.17

The main act called themselves the Pigpen Theatre Co. and the group consisted of seven men and more instruments than I could count. Growing up, I was never a fan of boy bands. I didn’t have posters of the Jonas Brothers or One Direction on my walls. However, last night I think I learned what it feels like to be a so-called “fangirl.” Pigpen Theatre Co. is exactly what a boy band should look (and sound) like with their flannels, facial hair and folk music. Their harmonies were unparalleled and their musical prowess was inspiring. After each song, the band members would rotate instruments and start up again like it were nothing. They vibed really well with one another and with the music. A few songs into their performance, they all hopped off of the stage and found a place to stand in the middle of the audience. Without microphones or amplification, they brought the show to another level of intimacy. They played a few songs that way, and it felt like we were spectators looking in on their living room rehearsal. Pigpen Theatre Co. was an energetic and incredibly talented band, and I aspire to see them again! To check out their music, visit: http://www.pigpentheatre.com/.