Review: The Music of Studio Ghibli

Photos are provided by the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra

On Saturday, March 15, and Sunday, March 16, the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra gave their highly anticipated performance of The Music of Studio Ghibli under guest conductor Wilburn Lin at the Michigan Theater. The program consisted of music all composed by Joe Hisaishi, including the Symphony Variation: Merry-Go-Round/Cave of Mind (from Howl’s Moving Castle, 2004), Orchestra Stories: My Neighbor Totoro (1988), Kiki’s Delivery Service, and Spirited Away. 

Howl’s Moving Castle is one of my favorite Ghibli films, so I was delighted that its music opened the night. Because Merry-Go-Round of Life is an incredibly iconic piece and so well-known, I was a bit afraid that the performance would deviate from the original score or lack the same musical satisfaction. However, the orchestra’s rendition was beautiful. The canonic melody seamlessly weaved between the different string and wind instruments, and I particularly liked the pizzicato variations from the strings. My only complaint is that it could’ve gone longer, though I might be biased because I love the piece so much. Though the next part of the variation, Cave of Mind, is a piece I don’t often listen to, I got goosebumps because the brass solo makes it a hauntingly beautiful piece, and I could vividly recall the exact scene where this soundtrack is played during the concert.

The performance of Orchestra Stories: My Neighbor Totoro was interesting because the orchestra decided to add Japanese narration, spoken by Momo Kajiwara, to further enhance the storytelling. To be honest, I don’t love this movie because I don’t find the plot to be that engaging, but this addition made me see the film in a different light. The narration was splitinto eight different sections that summarize the movie’s plot with an English translation provided in the program, and it helped paint the innocent and mystical atmosphere of the movie for those who were unfamiliar with it. Furthermore, I love Totoro as a character, so I found it endearing that there was also someone dressed as Totoro to take pictures with.

The next feature was Kiki’s Delivery Service. I was taken aback by how short the piece was (or maybe I just found it so enjoyable that I got lost in time). Nevertheless, the performance of Kiki’s Delivery Service stood out to me among the rest of the program because of the concertmaster spotlight. The violin solo’s melody differs from the main theme, making it a fun addition to the piece as a whole, and the concertmaster played with a beautifully pure and clean tone.

The night then concluded with the Spirited Away Suite. Spirited Away is one of my favorite Ghibli films alongside Howl’s Moving Castle, so I was blown away by how similar the orchestra’s rendition of Spirited Away was to the original soundtrack. Furthermore, the gorgeous and somber piano melody further enhanced the quality of the music. 

Overall, I loved this concert. It was my first time getting to see the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra perform The Music of Studio Ghibli, and it will most definitely not be my last.

REVIEW: Stefan Jackiw Plays Tchaikovsky

Photos are provided by the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra

The Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra’s February 2025 MainStage took place on Saturday, February 22, at 8 PM in the Michigan Theater, and alongside performing Montgomery’s Overture and Shostakovich’s 10th symphony, theyaccompanied violinist Stefan Jackiw who gave a phenomenally clean and vibrant performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto in D Major.

The Overture was the first piece in the program. It was my first time hearing Jessie Montgomery’s Overture, but it was incredibly enthralling. The piece opens with strikingly dissonant chords played by the entire orchestra that serves as a unique melodic line. These chords continue to be the main feature before the violins begin to take over with faster-moving notes that are then accompanied by changing chords in the brass instruments. Overall, it was a piece that can be largely described as a musical cacophony and served as a great introduction before moving on to the brighter melody of the violin concerto, which was the highlight of the night.

Similar to many other members of the audience, Tchaikovsky was the main reason why I wanted to attend this concert, as it’s one of the most famous violin concertos. The concerto’s grand melody truly makes the violin sing, which requires the soloist to have a high level of technique. The first movement, Allegro moderato, opens with a gentle melody from the orchestra that slowly builds up to the soloist’s entrance, which is low and soulful and evokes a sense of yearning that Jackiw’s strong vibrato captured perfectly. As the melody continues to ascend in pitch, its playful character grows and flourishes with runs before once again blending into a more soulful tune. I particularly admired Jackiw’s ability to bring out a full sound during each note no matter how short while using the full length of the bow, which requires accurate control of the bow’s weight with your hand. 

The second movement, Canzonetta: Andante, similarly opens with a slower-moving melodic line from the orchestra. However, the soloist’s entrance remains somber and slow for the majority of the movement, a tasteful contrast to the preceding flightful first movement. 

The opening of the third movement, the Finale: Allegro vivacissimo, is then startling. The orchestra is silent as the soloist’s part features strong, rich chords that Jackiw still manages to play with a clear and bright tone. He retained this brightness throughout the whole concerto, which was especially impressive during the last movement as it’s twelve minutes long, and it’s many character changes. The last section of the finale which consists of fierce spiccato was especially impressive, and spectacularly concluded the end of his performance.

Though I love Shostakovich, it was hard to imagine how the last piece of the program, Shostakovich’s Symphony No.10 in E minor, would make for a more satisfying conclusion to the night than the Tchaikovsky. The Moderato begins somberly slow, but the second movement, the Allegro, picks up and starts to set a frantic, anxious atmosphere that often comes with Shostakovich’s music. The character of the piece was fleshed out even more once the short, staccato notes opened the third movement, the Allegretto. Though the mood this piece evoked was much more different than the Tchaikovsky—much less cheerful—the ending of the finale was just as grand with fast notes from the violins and loud chords from the brass.

Overall, I enjoyed this concert. I am so happy I got to hear the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto live, and Stefan Jackiw did an amazing job at bringing the piece to life. Though he’s a soloist I hadn’t heard of before I’ll keep an ear out for him moving forward.

 

REVIEW: The Government Inspector

Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

Directed by Malcolm Tulip from February 20-23 at the Arthur Miller Theatre, students from the School of Music, Theatre, and Dance performed Jeffrey Hatcher’s adaptation of the musical The Government Inspector by Nikolai Gogol. Though I was disappointed by the lack of singing and dancing in the production that typically characterizes a musical, it was still enjoyable to watch because of the goofy characters and comedic plot twists. In addition to the great acting, the outfits and set design further added to the immersive setting and made it a satisfying experience.

The plot takes place in a small Russian town in the 1830s. When the greedy and corrupt mayor, Anton Antonovich (played by Fabian Rihl), realizes that a government inspector has come for a visit, panic ensues as he and other high-ranking residents such as the judge, hospital director, and school principal attempt to win the inspector’s favor and cover up their misdeeds. However, their efforts are in vain due to mistaking the inspector for another visitor, Hlestakov, who relishes in their attention and money while continuing to hide his true identity as a depressed, low-level servant.

Though there was a short musical number introducing each character at the beginning, it was hard to keep track of them all because of the vast number of characters and their Russian names. Nevertheless, my favorite part of the musical was the characters. I loved the character dynamic between Hlestakov, played by Sam O’Neill, and his servant, Osip, played by Vanessa Dominguez. Hlestakov’s pathetic personality accompanied by Osip’s cold-hearted demeanor made them a hilarious duo. Similarly, I also loved watching the hospital director, played by Christine Chupailo, and the doctor, played by Gabriel Sanchez. Because the doctor didn’t speak the native language, the comedic timing of their messy dialogue made me laugh throughout the whole musical.  

I particularly enjoyed watching the chaotic interactions within the mayor’s family. The mayor and his wife have a tumultuous relationship with each other and their daughter. However, Hlestakov’s arrival adds fuel to the chaos as he begins to get romantically involved with the mayor’s daughter, Marya Antonovna, and his wife, Anna Andreyevna. Student Nova Brown’s portrayal of Anna was especially amusing because of Anna’s bold flirting and her promiscuity. Furthermore, it was interesting to see how their indifferent daughter, played by Kristabel Kenta-Bibi, flirted with the mayor in comparison. 

Overall, though I wish there was more music involved, I highly recommend seeing this show. The unique characters and satirical plot made the whole audience laugh, yet it was still able to highlight the consequences of human greed and stupidity.

Review: Nickel Boys

Nickel boys, a recent movie adaption based on the novel by Colson Whitehead portrays a story with an overarching messages of loss of childhood innocence due to a societal hierarchy in a 1960s America. The story centers on two African-American boys, Elwood and Turner, as they come of age before being unjustly sentenced to an abusive reform school known as Nickle Academy. The film portrays the academy as being deeply encoded in segregation. The two boys must decide if they are to stick up for themselves and face backlash, or lay dormant and stoic and suffer from the society they were unknowingly born into.

A highlight of this film was the fact it was shot in a first person perspective. almost all movies made now have been shot in third person. It is clear why this decision was made, it was almost a requirement as it allowed viewers to relate to the world that Elwood saw. Elwoods school teacher told him to stand up for what he believes and ignore the altered white lense of society, meanwhile Elwoods grandmother showed caution to the young man as he may be led to being incarcerated if he follows civil right movements.

Elwood finds himself ending up in Nickel Academy after being wrongfully involved in a grand theft auto while hitchhiking. After ending up in the wrong crowd like many others, Elwood is subjugated to the cruel means of “rehabilitation” submitted by the Academy. Nickel Academy has four tiers of student success. All students start from what is known as a “grub” and must move on in the ranks. After Grubs a student will be an explorer, a Pioneer and finally an Ace. Only once a student has become an ace may he ever leave the institution and see his family again. What makes this intriguing is how difficult the movie frames the task of become an Ace. One must almost become an unquestioning, loyal member that echos exactly what the administrators communicate. The film lets audience know there is a difference between a successful member of society and a pawn that stays in line. Something the academy wishes to enact in all of it’s students.

Nickle boys also portrays cruelty of the administration onto the students. After a week of being at the school, Elwood is involved in a fight between two other young boys. Instead of detention the boys are whipped the next night by the school director. The movie creates this sense of unnerving abuse not by the action of physical whipping, but by the fear portrayed in the other men. The intense fear and worried lines given by boys who have been subjugated to this punishment in the past clearly clues Elwood, (and the audience through his eyes), that this was no normal school. This was hell. No boy  would ever wish to face the punishment that the school seems suitable. The suspense created by having Elwood be woken up into the middle of the night and not revealing his punishment until it hit him over the head was a clever use by the film’s director that stepped ahead of what the book had to offer. First person storytelling allows a special sense of naive and unknowingness to an audience that can capture some truly intense moments that no one can expect. Knowing something awful is coming but not revealing it directly is an excellent artistic tool to capture the feeling of dread and an impending sense of doom.

These feelings are captured further in such a unique way. Like a motif, the scene will sometimes include an alligator. (yes an alligator!) Several moments in the film that feature the boys being abused often have a live alligator pass over the scene. This alligator is not meant to be taken literal  but as a metaphor for something sinister that is just underneath the surface. The alligator represents that nasty stomach twisting feeling in Elwood that something is off.

Has American really improved much of its ways after the legalization of slavery, or has the suffering merely transformed under a thin sheath that is still filled with segregation and hate? When Elwood was touring the academy one of his main duties is to collect oranges in the grueling hot son while the white students play football outside. Brief black and white photographs of slavery clues audiences in that the way Black Americans were treated after freedom from slavery was not a direct improvement but a long and slow moving way of improvement that still takes place to this day.

Overall the message of this film was potent but not over the head. A common criticism for films with dystopian like messages are often to on the nose or over the head. The artistic metaphors and use of first person simply set up a view that I have not considered. The picture does not tell you what to believe, but rather understand an alternate view. This film deserves all the praise it can get, and truly cements real history and real people.

 

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.