REVIEW: Sasha Velour in the Big Reveal Live Show

The historic stage of the Michigan Theater sits sparse, except for a comfortable cyan lounge chair, a cozy floor lamp, a vintage two-knob TV, and a dainty desk with Sasha Velour’s The Big Reveal: An Illustrated Manifesto of Drag neatly atop it.

On screen behind them, a prerecorded Sasha Velour dangles a disco ball from an elegant, silver finger. As Jennifer Lopez’s Waiting for Tonight begins to play, Sasha caresses the disco ball with her other hand, and as a spotlight appears on the cyan lounge chair, the audience waits with bated breath.

In an instant, the chair blanket is yanked back to reveal…

Sasha Velour…inside the chair…and I was gagged by possibly one of the best live reveals I’ve ever seen.

Her ruby lips gleamed unobstructed through a face-sized hole, as she began to lip sync sections of Kylie Minogue’s futuristic In My Arms, Dionne Warwick’s forever cherished A House is Not a Home, and Brandy’s *perfect* rendition of In My Own Little Corner.

As the chorus of Britney Spears’ Stronger begins, Sasha sheds the chair from which she came, only to become…

Sasha Velour…the chair, again…I was gagged again.

She struts in a brocade gown of the same cyan fabric, cream tassels on her shoulders and hips, and chair arms accentuating her tightly-corseted waist…a hybridized perfection of camp, glamour, and humor on full display to close act one.

As the energy in the room quells, Sasha reflects on her grandmother Dina, who came to America from China as a Jewish immigrant during World War II and, “would always encourage me [Velour] to channel my inner diva.” Showing videos of herself as a child, Sasha cherishes these moments aloud on stage, gushing about how Dina’s love and enthusiasm shaped her as a child, and now as a performer.

In one of a series of hilarious video skits, Velour switches between various personas, who comment on drag’s significance across communities: a medium of history, of fun, of revolution. Velour asserts that drag can be anything, for anyone, and this fundamental freedom affords drag infinite power.

But what happens when this freedom is at stake? Unafraid of asking the difficult questions, Velour challenges the audience to both revel in the privilege of being able to attend her show and share in her sense of growing urgency towards collectively understanding what these next few years will bring, not just for the queer community, but for everyone the Trump administration seeks to erase.

Drag is not dangerous for children, and helps to embolden those who need creative outlets of expression… “I have always been Sasha Velour…drag has a spiritual mission to give each other the biggest gift in life — to be seen and documented as we really are…to write our own stories”. The Big Reveal is everything a drag performance should be: It acknowledges what drag has been, what it is now, and everything it can be, while somehow completely exceeding the expectations of any audience member or Sasha Velour fan in the audience.

Even if you didn’t have a chance to see Sasha Velour, supporting your local drag scene helps to contribute to the parts of her show that still sit within me as I write this — drag is more than just a performance, it is the establishment of ones’ identity in relation to themselves and their community. It is a way of surviving, thriving, and ultimately, existing in the world in a profoundly beautiful way. A way of life that has always existed, and will continue to thrive in spite of those who seek to refute it.

REVIEW: Culture Night- A Journey Through Tradition

I didn’t know what to expect when I decided to attend Culture Night at Kochoff Hall. Sure, I’d read about the performances—a mix of traditions from around the world—but I was curious about how it would all come together. As someone from a different cultural background, I was eager to see how the evening would speak to me.

Photo credit: IGSA

The first act, a South Asian classical dance, immediately set a high bar. The dancer’s precise movements were mesmerizing, but what really struck me was her storytelling. Without speaking a word, she pulled the audience into a narrative that felt deeply emotional. I found myself leaning forward, completely absorbed in the graceful yet powerful choreography. It was the kind of performance that made me forget where I was for a moment.

Then came the African drumming ensemble, and the energy shifted completely. The beats were loud and unapologetically bold, reverberating through the hall. I couldn’t help but tap my foot and clap along. It wasn’t just music; it was a heartbeat that seemed to connect everyone in the room. I caught myself smiling at strangers during this performance, feeling an unspoken sense of unity.

The third act—a modern spin on European folk music—was surprising in the best way. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about blending traditional violin with electronic beats, but it was a perfect harmony of old and new. It made me think about how cultures adapt and evolve while staying true to their roots. That realization felt personal, like it was challenging me to think about my own heritage in a new light.

Photo Credits: IGSA

The evening’s final performance, a Polynesian dance, was my favorite. The dancer moved with a grace that felt effortless, their body swaying like waves. I could almost hear the ocean and feel the island breeze through their storytelling. The vibrant costumes and the way they seemed to embody the spirit of their culture left me in awe. It was peaceful yet powerful—a perfect way to close the night.

But Culture Night wasn’t just about the performances. The energy in the room made it special. People from all walks of life were there, clapping, cheering, and sharing in the experience. The decorations and the warmth of the audience added to the magic, making the hall feel like a celebration of not just cultures, but community.

When I left Kochoff Hall, I felt different. I’d come expecting a show, but what I got was a deeper sense of connection—to the performers, to the audience, and to the idea that art transcends borders. Culture Night wasn’t just entertaining; it was a reminder that no matter where we come from, we can find common ground in celebrating the beauty of our differences.

REVIEW: Wicked

After several disappointing movie-musical adaptations in recent years, I was skeptical that Wicked would be any different. As the first musical I had ever seen, and on Broadway in New York no less, I had especially high expectations. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the hype surrounding the movie was justified. Under the guidance of director Jon M. Chu, with a talented main cast including Ariana Grande (Glinda), Cynthia Erivo (Elphaba), and Jonathan Bailey (Fiyero), Wicked offered a refreshing take with a charm that still retained the essence of the Broadway play that sparked my love for musical theatre.

Based on Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked, the story is a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. The main character, Elphaba, grows up experiencing hardships due to her unusual green skin. Ostracized by even her own family, she is nonetheless loved by her nanny. Because of this, she grows up with a pure heart. When she sends her younger sister to Shiz University, Elphaba catches the eye of Madame Morrible, played by Michelle Yeoh. Morrible is a famous magical history professor and the object of admiration for Glinda, a beautiful and popular girl who has lived a life essentially the opposite of Elphaba’s. As the story progresses, it explores the complex relationship between the two women. Their character development is one of the highlights of the story, touching on themes of friendship, values, purpose, and societal expectations. Grande and Erivo’s chemistry, both on and off screen, brought this relationship to life brilliantly. 

Despite both the musical and the movie running for roughly three hours, the movie only covers half of the original story. I did feel that the pacing dragged at times, with the plot progressing slowly—almost frustratingly so. However, this slower pace gave more creative freedom to the director and actors. Compared to the stage production, Elphaba and Glinda felt more alive in this version. Their characters were more developed and complex, which created a deeper connection with the audience. I particularly enjoyed Glinda’s nuanced portrayal, whereas in the play, she seemed more ditzy and one-dimensional.

Though I find live singing and dancing more impactful, the movie was still incredibly immersive. The film’s close-up shots of the characters, their costumes, and facial expressions added a level of intimacy that the stage production can’t match. The lighting and camera angles also contributed to a richer atmosphere. The movie was visually striking and the vivid colors truly brought the fantasy world of Oz to life. These added details allowed for more foreshadowing, extensive world-building, and deeper character development. It never felt like a simple recording of the play. 

A friend of mine, who is more versed in musical theatre techniques, also offered some insightful commentary on how film is a unique medium. On stage, only those sitting in the front row get to see the actors’ faces clearly, and even then, it’s impossible to catch all the small details. It’s difficult to compare movies and theatre because they offer different experiences and strengths. Perhaps that’s why I remain skeptical about many movie-musical adaptations retaining a high quality—they’re often unfairly compared to the original. Nevertheless, Wicked is proof that a great musical-movie adaptation is possible.

REVIEW: Twelfth Night

Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

From October 10 to 13, the School of Music, Theatre, & Dance presented a musical adaptation of William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. The witty script combined with the students’ incredible singing and dancing made it such an enjoyable experience that I ended up watching it twice. 

The performance took place in the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre, which although a little small, is actually my favorite venue for musicals. The charming, comfortable velvet seats and the excellent acoustics ensure that every line and lyric is crystal clear. The actors also make creative use of the entire space by entering and exiting through aisles and side doors instead of always walking backstage, and this added interaction with the audience made the show feel all the more immersive. The set design for Illyria, a mythical city surrounded by water, was stunning: the intricate details of the staircase, balcony, and guardrails added realism, while the bright colors and decorations created a whimsical atmosphere.

The first musical number that stood out to me was “If You Were My Beloved,” performed by Viola, Olivia, and Orsino. Viola’s youthful, endearing voice accidentally captures Olivia’s heart, embodying the innocence and purity of the kind of love Olivia has been longing for. Olivia’s bright and powerful voice conveys the excitement of newfound love, radiating optimism and hope for her future romantic pursuits. Lastly, Orsino’s deep, charismatic voice reflects the depth of his persistent and long-held admiration for Olivia. Despite their conflicting interests while singing these lyrics, the trio harmonizes beautifully, hinting at the tangled and humorous love triangle filled with misunderstandings and unexpected twists.

Another memorable number was “Is This Not Love?” Feste’s soulful tone beautifully captured the yearning and frustration that come with being in love. This exasperation was further amplified through the choreography where Viola and Orsino would reach out for each other without ever fully connecting, underscoring the emotional distance between them. A particularly powerful moment featured Orsino spinning Viola in the air; despite their physical closeness, their emotions remained unspoken.

Funnily enough, it was “Count Malvolio” that left the deepest impression on me. I loved the playful costumes of the backup dancers that mirrored Malvolio’s outfit, and their addition allowed for a grand choreography filled with silly gestures that perfectly captured Malvolio’s ambitious dream of becoming a count. With its humorous lyrics and catchy chorus, I found myself singing it for days afterward.

Overall, each musical number was a joy to experience, and I left the theater excited to listen to them again. However, I found myself disappointed with the recordings I found online, since they lacked the vibrancy and emotional depth that made the live performances so special.

Watching the show from two different perspectives—the main floor the first time and the balcony the second—provided me with more ways to experience the performance. From the balcony, I could appreciate the full scope of the choreography, from the various formations to the synchronization. On the main floor, however, the experience felt more cinematic; the singing was more immersive and the actors’ facial expressions brought the romantic tension and developments to life. Honestly, if given the opportunity, I would happily go back to watch the musical a third time and re-experience the beauty of Illyria once more with SMTD.



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.

REVIEW: A Little Night Music

A Little Night Music, based off of the movie Smiles of a Summer Night, was an exciting and jaw-dropping musical full of plot twists and shocking revelations that uses humor, song, and dance to portray infidelity as a romantic comedy. Set in 1900 Sweden, the story revolves around a messy love web between a lawyer, Fredrik Egerman; Fredrik’s wife, Anne; a famous traveling actress, Desirée Armfeldt; Desirée’s lover, Count Carl-Magnus Malcom; and the Count’s wife, Charlotte.

The drama between the characters shows the darker side of romance in a sarcastically endearing way. The men are ungrateful towards their partners but down bad for Desirée, which is what generates the jealousy that pushes the plot forward in unexpected ways. The entire time I was on the edge of my seat, uncertain where the story was taking me. The ending was bizarre yet satisfying: happy yet bittersweet. Afterwards, I had a lot of fun talking to my friend about all of the twists and turns in A Little Night Music, which for me is what set it apart from the other musicals I’ve watched. It was a story completely different from what I expected when reading the description of the plot online.

The students really brought this show to life; their voices perfectly replicated the classic European noble accent. The wardrobe was gorgeous, particularly Desirée’s deep red dress and Charlotte’s dark blue dress, a contrast that hints at their differences and heavy animosity. I was also very impressed by the live playing of the cello and piano on stage, as it was my first time seeing instruments played on stage by the actors and not by the musicians in the pit orchestra. Especially the student who portrayed Fredrik’s son, Henrik, who played the cello with a very good tone and vibrato. 

My favorite song would be “Send in the Clowns,” sung by Desirée as she discovers that love doesn’t always go as predicted. The lyrics were relatable and the emotion in her voice mirrors lots of the experiences people face in romance today. This is the last musical I’ll see this semester and was a fun one to review. If you’re looking for something to betray your expectations, then A Little Night Music is for you!