Tomorrow at 4pm, I’ll be heading to Hill Auditorium to the Women’s Glee Club fall concert. I’m always astounded by the quality of their sound and can’t wait to immerse myself once again. Aside from that, this concert also has a relevant theme: reflections of the past … with a focus on remembering the Holocaust.
The main languages concerned will be Hebrew and Latin. Songs will be performed by artists like Jake Runestad, Levente, and Daniel J. Hall.
I have a friend on Women’s Glee so I’m excited to see her perform! Knowing the Glee Club, this will be a gorgeous, resonant way to celebrate their 125 years of song.
The Power Center is one of my favorite venues on campus, With the steep incline of it’s auditorium, floor to ceiling windows, and grey concrete staircases lifting off of the lobby floor I always feel like I’m stepping into the Senate Rotunda from Star Wars when attending an event there. The uniquely sci-fi setting proved to be yet another simultaneously clashing and complementary element in the night’s unique performance, a hybrid of American pop culture featuring the myth around “the king” himself, and Japanese traditional Noh theater, the most ancient theater practice in the world that is still being regularly performed today.
After spotting flyers for the performance scattered across practically every free space on campus, I was curious as to how many people would actually show for the unique event. When I first arrived a half and hour early I was surprised and slightly disheartened to see only a scattering of people in the section of the audience left open for the show, to say nothing of the empty seats above and to either side. Thankfully, as the show’s start time drew nearer more and more people trickled in until before I knew it, the crowd was sizably filled out. Before the performance we had several esteemed guests including the head of UM’s Center for Japanese Studies warmly introduce the nights performance as well as acknowledge the Toyota Visiting Professor program that made the entire event possible.
As someone with little-to-no experience in… well… noh, I only had a vague idea of what we were about to witness. I knew that noh involved slow methodic movement, painstakingly crafted masks, and very little else. Thankfully Theater Ongaku, the troupe that would be treating us to the performance that night first showed off two segments of other performances that they do, to give the audience a sort of “warm up.” I also found it fascinating when they explained that the troupe had members flying in from quite literally all across the world to be there in person, and had done most of their rehearsing in the last few days leading up to the performance, although their polished performance certainly didn’t give the impression of being rushed.
Much to my expectation, the performance was very purposeful and deliberate, which some might also describe as painstakingly slow if they are used to the high energy plays and musicals so popular these days. Additionally, there is no other way to word it, but several of the moments in the performance seemed to be unintentionally comical, with the dissonance between the subject matter and the art itself feeling slightly awkward and the intense acting on the part of the actors far from what most Americans are used to. I certainly spotted a few other audience members in the crowd trying to stifle their laugher as I was myself out of respect for the performers and the art form itself. However it wasn’t until near the end of the performance when the groundskeeper character launched into his lengthy monologue that easily made up a quarter of the script that I realized that many of these moments were intentionally meant to be funny, as the groundskeeper himself acted like a jester, dancing around stage whirling about a pair of women’s panties as a prop.
My personal favorite element of the performance was not even the performance itself, but the beautiful and uniquely crafted garments made for it. The main character of Judy was wearing what appeared to be a traditional Japanese garment sewn out of patched-together denim scraps, combining the American and Japanese elements quite literally. The costumes worn by Elvis were striking as well, especially the enormous gilded cream outfit that he wore, subtly decorated by an elegant feather motif. The photo below, while not taken at the local performance, shows the interesting design of these two garments, especially in contrast with the plain black clothes most of the other performers were wearing.
While I can’t exactly ascertain how faithful the play was to traditional noh theater, it was evident that the troupe had a deep love and appreciation of noh theater, as well as extensive knowledge and training in the subject, so I can only assume that they did it justice.
Since 1975, Aida Gabriela Cuevas Castillo has demonstrated to her beloved homeland of Mexico and to the expanse of Latinoamerica her extraordinary talent as a traditional mariachi vocalist, hereafter deemed “La Voz de Mexico” and “The Queen of Ranchera Music” by many. As a girl originating from la Ciudad de Mexico, Aida Cuevas was born with a deep, rich tone that resonates throughout the hills that envelop the city and naturally cuts through the vast blue skies of the Southern Hemisphere. With her arrival in Ann Arbor on Friday (11/02/18), viewers should expect the same authentic musicality and powerful energy to reverberate between the walls of the Hill Auditorium. As she takes the stage with her accompanying mariachi band, Mariachi Juvenil Tecalitlan, performing a tribute to Juan Gabriel, Aida Cuevas is certain to pull the heartstrings of those who know her music, make those belonging to the Hispanic community proud that she is representing and sharing their culture in an authentic way, and capture the hearts of those who have yet to experience her moving charisma and zeal for el mariachi.
Mikky Ekko seems to be the opener for musical acts just on the peripheral of mainstream, having been the opening performance for Alt-J, BØRNS, and now A R I Z O N A – dissimilar groups each with their own distinct brand of indie. But Mikky Ekko has a voice that chameleons into genres, his set list being a little bit of electronic rock, a little bit of retro vibes, some hip-hop and R&B. It’s a lot, but it’s still self-assured. Not perfect, but that’s almost the point, as he re-iterates throughout the concert that his newest album, Fame, will be an exploration of who he really is.
From PledgeMusic
Most of his songs roll like thunder with an electric touch, deep reverberations, no shyness with the use of instrumentation, amplifiers, percussion, and synth. Despite the strong tempo and speed, and a slight chaotic undertone in the layers of sound – it’s sort of relaxing, almost meditative. It’s a kind of specific headspace, a soothing power in the near-overwhelming magnitude that some of his songs climax towards. Listening to songs like “What’s it Like Now” and “Light the Way” are notably different experiences live. There’s a harder edge sharpened to it, a lot purer and more primitive, exhibiting a raw strength. If accidentally singing so hard that an expensive bracelet gets smashed off his wrist isn’t a testament to the intensity of his performance, then really what is.
Closing with a solo rendition of “Stay,” the power in his voice also sweetens well, having the ability to cool into more delicate tones, to become tender and rich with great melancholy. With an impressive flexibility and stunning vocals, Mikky Ekko’s new album, dropping November 2nd, is worth giving a listen to.
Electric Guest followed, with the very charismatic Asa Taccone rolling up with a dreamy electro-pop vibe. It’s stuff you skateboard down the streets of suburban L.A. in the summer to – a bit nostalgic, it feels effortless, light and airy despite strong instrumentation and the disses they’re throwing out to their critics in “Zero” or whatever sinful hell “Oh Devil” serenades us about. It’s multi-faceted; Electric Guest has playfully clever song writing and an almost sunny feel – fitting since their album Plural is an emergence from hibernation from the much earlier, more tepidly received Mondo.
They performed well live, energetic yet laid back, with a natural stage confidence and no shakiness. Some of the particular atmospheres, the slight nuances of their songs were a bit lost to the size of the auditorium, lacking in the exactness of the feel of the studio version. Still, Electric Guest is a good time, tremendously easy to listen to with an instinctive grab of attention and measured, evenly handled talent. More than a year after the release of their sophomore album, they continue to impress and prove their longevity.
In the final hour, A R I Z O N A came on stage, with the auditorium properly filling in to come see the New Jersey electropop band. While they were certainly the headliner, I think I preferred Mikky Ekko and Electric Guest, despite having listened to probably more of A R I Z O N A’s discography previously. Not to say that A R I Z O N A wasn’t good, just that they have a less distinct musical style, less surprising and more properly pop-y. The kind of ambiance that some of their recorded songs have didn’t always translate live.
Nevertheless, the rendition of “Oceans Away” was memorably beautiful, well-paced and gorgeous – a really nice slower song that I found to be more pleasant than their upbeat hits. Zachary Charles has a beautiful voice, and it’s undeniable that A R I Z O N A has a compelling stage presence. Especially on a Halloween weekend night in a college town and with added sound issues, A R I Z O N A has proven to have the kind of energy and appeal that’s magnetic anyways, a definite force that overcomes any hurdle.
From Forbes
The three acts had a lot to offer, diverse but cohesively put together as one show. Be sure to check them out individually below:
Having never heard Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 9 performed before, the Ann Arbor Symphony’s Saturday night performance of it was certainly an experience. At over an hour and twenty minutes long, it takes listeners on a profound musical journey of Mahler’s personal memories and experiences.
It has been hotly debated whether Mahler’s Ninth Symphony is more a lamentation of death or a “love song to life,” and this dilemma was noted at the beginning of the concert by A2SO conductor and music director Arie Lipsky. While I am certainly not an expert, the first three movements, in my opinion, seemed to be a celebration of life and the living. This does not, however, preclude death from being a present theme in these movements – it makes sense to me that, knowing that his death was drawing nearer, Mahler would have looked back on his life and what was important and dear to him. Even if life is the overarching theme of the Symphony, it does not mean that the music must be solely “happy,” because that is not a true representation of life. As a listener I can hear this complexity of emotions reflected in Mahler’s composition. For example, I heard the introduction of the second movement, with its buoyant trills in the upper woodwinds, as lively, but with a darker undertone of nostalgia or longing. Overall, I believe that it is impossible to assign either life or death as an exclusive theme of the work, because the two are so closely intertwined; in the human experience, one does not exist without the other, and this is clearly reflected in Mahler’s music.
The fourth movement of Mahler’s symphony, however, stood alone to me when I heard it. It is extremely slow, and begins with a single melody in the strings, which gradually deepens and transforms to richer harmonies, and then the music fades away. I found myself captivated and perplexed by the music to the degree that I was literally leaning to the edge of my seat, and at the end of piece, the audience was silent for nearly half a minute. If any of the movements of the Symphony are contemplative and haunted by death, the fourth movement is the one, and this is very clear to listeners. I found myself thinking about the music after I had walked out of the Michigan Theater and back down the street.
As Austrian conductor Herbert von Karajan observed of Mahler’s ninth symphony, “It is music coming from another world, it is coming from eternity.” For anyone who has not experienced Mahler’s Ninth Symphony, it is a composition not to be missed, and the Ann Arbor Symphony’s performance of the piece certainly did it justice.
From the very first notes of their October 26th performance at Rackham Auditorium, it was clear that the Aizuri Quartet’s communication as an ensemble is excellent. It was fascinating and amazing to me to watch the string quartet’s body language, eye contact, and gestures throughout the performance, and to observe how they were perpetually in sync with one another on a level deeper than just the notes and rhythms. As an audience member, the connection between the members of the Quartet was tangible, and it brought additional joy and life to their performance.
What also resonated with me was the intention with which the Aizuri Quartet performed their music. After the first piece, violinist Miho Saegusa spoke briefly about the evening’s program, which was entitled “Locally Sourced.” The first half of the program, she explained, consisted of compositions inspired by the places near and dear to their composers. These pieces were Komitas Vartabed’s Armenian FolkSongs and Béla Bartók’s String Quartet No. 2, Op. 17, Sz. 67, and the locations of inspiration were Armenia and Hungary, respectively. The second half of the program was, as Ms. Saegusa put it, an exploration of the “rich musical landscape of pieces being written in America today.” It included Blueprint by Caroline Shaw and LIFT by Paul Wiancko, both of which were written specifically for the Aizuri Quartet and which are featured on their new album Blueprinting. The quartet’s reasoning behind their choice of music, and the meanings behind the chosen pieces, challenged me and reminded me that music is, at its most essential, a means of communication.
The pieces in themselves were certainly a tour in musical contrast. Armenian Folk Songs, my personal favorite of the concert, was at once ethereal, jubilant, and full of life, while the Bartók String Quartet was more longing, dissonant, and insistent. Blueprint’s name comes as a play on words of the quartet’s namesake style of Japanese woodblock printing, aizuri-e, and of the piece’s genesis as a harmonic reduction (a “floor plan”) of Beethoven’s String Quartet, Op. 18, No. 6. The beginning instructions of the piece, which were printed in the program, reflect the composition’s humorous, witty nature: “like a marble bust / stoic & grand & still/ but with a little wink or some / side-eye. The final piece, LIFT, was a rich, dramatic, and engaging adventure of its own, oscillating between jazz, folk and bluegrass inspirations.
The Aizuri Quartet’s performance was, for me, a lively experience of what twenty-first century chamber music can be. It was a pleasure to join them as they, in Ms. Saegusa’s words, “[explored] the joy in music-making.”
