Category: Student Organization

REVIEW: As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow – The Play

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On December 6th, at 5 PM, the Ford Collaboratory in the Mardigian Library became a portal to war-torn Syria through the powerful stage adaptation of Zoulfa Katouh’s As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow. The story, which follows Salama Kassab’s heartbreaking journey through the Syrian civil war, was beautifully translated into a theatrical experience

The play centered on Salama (played by Leila Haddad in a standout performance), a former pharmacy student turned volunteer medic. Leila captureed Salama’s internal struggle with raw, unflinching authenticity. Her portrayal of guilt, hope, and despair—especially in moments of silence—felt like a masterclass in restraint. Haddad’s ability to convey emotion, especially in the quieter, more introspective moments, was mesmerizing.

Image Courtesy: Leila Ghaznavi

However, where the play truly shone was in its staging. Director Amira Shafiq, President of the Theater club, created an intimate, immersive experience that makes the audience feel as though they’re walking alongside Salama in the ruins of Homs. The use of minimalist sets striked a balance between realism and surrealism. The lighting design deserved special mention, with its stark contrasts between the warm glow of past memories and the cold, unforgiving present.

One of the play’s most intriguing choices was the personification of Khawf, Salama’s manifestation of fear. Actor Omar Darwish gave Khawf a chilling yet oddly sympathetic presence. His interactions with Salama—at times antagonistic, at times comforting—perfectly captured the inner turmoil of living through unimaginable horrors. These scenes, while impactful, occasionally slowed the pacing slightly, but they were essential in depicting her mental and emotional state.

The dialogue, much of it drawn directly from the book, was both poetic and raw, though some lines feel better suited to the page than the stage. While some of Salama’s reflections felt a bit expository when spoken aloud, they still carried the emotional weight of her journey.

“Perhaps this could have been remedied with more physical storytelling or additional silences to let the weight of the words sink in,” added Alexis Mohammed, a student at the University of Michigan Dearborn.

The supporting cast also delivered heartfelt performances. Yasmin Agha brought warmth and strength to the role of Layla, Salama’s pregnant best friend, though her limited stage time left her arc feeling somewhat underexplored. Karim Al-Rashed, as Salama’s brother Sami, offered moments of levity and hope, with his final scene leaving the audience in stunned silence.

One of the play’s most powerful moments was the climactic hospital scene. The chaos of wounded civilians flooding in, enhanced by overlapping shouts, frantic movement, and a pulsing soundscape, left both Salama and the audience breathless. It was a visceral reminder of the relentless toll of war.

That said, the play did struggle to capture some of the novel’s nuance, especially in depicting Salama’s quieter moments of healing and growth. The ending, while emotionally charged, felt slightly rushed, leaving the audience including myself, yearning for a deeper exploration of Salama’s transformation.

As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow is a story that demands to be told, and this stage adaptation did justice to its poignant message. With stellar performances, innovative staging, and a deeply personal tone, the December 6th performance was more than a play—it was a call to bear witness, to empathize, and to remember.

REVIEW: Plano

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November 16 | 7:00 pm | Newman Studio

 

 

It seems director Natalie Tell found the question of time most interesting in her multilayered senior thesis, Plano. What really is now? What is later?  Earlier? Suddenly? And where do our lives fit into a structured system of a concept that refuses to be contained? These questions were presented in her attuned director’s note in the program, but I found that more prominent themes of identity and male-induced panic rose to the surface onstage.

Plano lets us loose in a semi-mythical Texas in the home (or rather, on the porch) of three sisters, Anne (Maya McEntrye), Genevieve (Hannah Long), and Isabel (Audrey Andrews). They are haunted by strange physical things (like slugs, ribbons, ghosts) that all seem to tie back to the patriarchal influences of their unexplored past. Each sister has a different quandary with the primary man in her life: Anne quickly marries John (Joaquin Consuelos) after finding out she is pregnant, but he seems to be with her for the green card; Anne, is married to her less-than-superb husband, Steve (the hilariously erratic Rohan Maletira); and young Isabel finds herself in a relationship with God, but grapples with the presence of looming spirits.

The play establishes a fantastic “handshake” with the audience right out of the gate. The lights come up, and the sisters are having a fiery sharp conversation, darting through time when a character decides, “It’s later.” We discover John (whose real name is Juan) is gay and gallivants off to Plano (a seemingly mystical, metaphorical place) leaving Anne alone with her thoughts. Isabel is afflicted by two Faceless Ghosts who dwell uncomfortably near when she’s alone. When Genevieve and Steve ultimately divorce due to his infidelity, he splits in two (and eventually three) haunting Genevieve’s home and mind.

“A third Steve is making music in the garage. He won’t leave. And the other two Steves are really proud of him.” says Genevieve.

 

The eclectic universe Ms. Tell crafted was completely alive: props emerged seamlessly, Faceless Ghosts wandered around pre-show, and a bowl of hummus came out of the wall! The curse manifested itself in ways other than through the character’s words, it surrounded them. Ms. Tell’s creative design choices made the script’s (by the poignant Will Arbery) insistent metaphors in the script all the more playful.

 

The Faceless Ghosts pre-show.

Arbery’s book contains rich ramblings, which develop deep and relatable characters, blending humor with the uncanny. The play between reality and surrealism is intricate but such charming performances kept me fully engaged in attempting to unravel the timeline. The three sisters are distinct characters to me, each carrying a strange sense of familiarity. The clarity could stem from Arbery’s vocal inspiration from his seven sisters whom he grew up with in Dallas, Texas (a short distance from Plano, Texas).

 

Ms. McEntrye, Long, and Andrews are filled with endurance and are constantly thrilling. They relentlessly search for their identities while navigating life and facing the challenges of hegemonic authority from previously trusted men. Ms. Long’s performance was a personal favorite of mine, showcasing her quick wit and unveiled compassion. While their male counterparts can be mundanely loathsome in the world of Plano, the performances by Mr. Consuelos and Mr. Maletira were quirky and deliberate.

Though Ms. Tell’s director’s note emphasized her exploration of time in Plano, I found the most moving aspects of it were its relationship with the women fighting it. It’s difficult to truly grasp the metaphysical concept of time in this piece, as it (seemingly) is not linear, but it was effortless to feel for the strong women’s journey of discovery. To Ms. Tell’s point, time is something we’re always aware of, and these characters certainly are too.

“We’re a tiny part of a tiny thing that never ends…” Anne says.

 

 

 

Plano runs November 15-16 in the Newman Studio. Images thanks to @umichdesignandproduction on Instagram.

REVIEW: Murder on the Orient Express

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Before I saw Rude Mechanicals’ production of “Murder on the Orient Express,” I had no idea what to expect. Somehow, despite the source material by Agatha Christie being so iconic, neither the plot nor the ending had been spoiled for me.

Going in, I had no preconceived notions of what this play should look like – and, like with all murder mysteries, I think that is the best way to do it. 

The play opens with a blinding blast of light from the stage, mimicking a train’s headlights, before diving into the show. Hercule Poirot (Ty Lam), a world-renowned Belgian detective, is traveling from Istanbul to London on the Orient Express, a train line owned by his friend, Monsieur Bouc (Fabian Rihl). Once aboard the train, a kooky cast of characters including the chic and dramatic Princess Dragomiroff (Bobby Currie) and the over-the-top Helen Hubbard (Olivia Sulisz) soon find themselves trapped when the Express gets stuck in a snowdrift.

Amidst the hubbub, a dead body is found with eight stab wounds. It’s Samuel Ratchett (Jax Coates)… or is it? Poirot is immediately on the case.

The Rude Mechanicals cast performs “Murder on the Orient Express” on November 8, 2024. Photo by Ellie Vice.

While the play is, at its core, a murder mystery, it is also a comedy. In the program, director Anderson Zoll says they “leaned into the humor and heightened theatricality” to give the show “a generous dose of camp.” And overall? I think they succeeded. 

As someone who didn’t know the plot before going in, it was a bit tough to follow at first because nearly every character has a different accent. A terribly tough task, to truck through the 100 minutes in an Irish, Russian or Swedish accent. But once the cast fell into stride, the show chugged along like a well-oiled machine. The Rude Mechanicals machine, perhaps. 

Part of what heightened the “campy” aspect of this production were the cheeky asides and musical transitions between some scenes. For instance, in one of the first scenes, a character remarks that Lam’s mustache “doesn’t even look real!” In response, Lam moves the open newspaper he is obviously hiding behind to give the audience a pointed look over the mustache that is, very obviously, fake. In one of the scene clearings, the ghost of Daisy Armstrong (Christine Chupailo) performs a beautiful ballet sequence; but in the context of the flippancy of everything else, it almost made me laugh. 

While the whole cast was great, Rihl, Currie and Sulisz stood out. With a healthy dose of physical comedy and almost-constant movement, Rihl really played into the stressed businessman who will do anything to keep his customers happy. Even when not speaking, Rihl’s reactions to other characters and their actions simply made so much sense; of course he would dust off the seats before someone sits down to be interrogated! Currie plays Princess Dragomiroff in drag, a choice that felt so natural it made me search whether the role was usually played in drag. And Sulisz, from using Michel the Conductor (Jaden Gonzalez) as a handrail to climb onto the train to singing show tunes to herself in a pink robe, drew some of the biggest laughs. The loud, dramatic American traveling solo, the character Sulisz played was both familiar and novel, and altogether magnetic.

Some of the more serious moments fell flat, but they were few and far between, and the play did wonders as a comedy. A good comedy immerses the audience in a world and lets them leave their worries at the door, if only for two hours. While the plot was interesting, it was ultimately the way the cast embraced their roles and “committed to the bit” that made it so enjoyable.

REVIEW: The 5th Annual Pass The Mic

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On October 23 2024, “Pass the Mic” invited everyone into a space full of real emotions, honesty, and a bit of magic. Hosted by the Hopwood Program, this yearly event brought students from all over the University of Michigan to share their writing—poems, stories, and essays.

Throughout the night, we heard all kinds of stories, each one reflecting the writer’s unique life and feelings. There were poems about deep loss, struggles with mental health, and even the simple sweetness of peaches and plums. Listening felt like getting a glimpse into each person’s world, as they opened up and shared real pieces of their lives.

From the Dearborn campus, Vincent Intrieri shared a powerful story about his own life experiences. From open-heart surgery, his time in the Navy, and moments in a hospital room with his girlfriend and nephew, he crafted his life into lines that made up his living. His words felt raw and genuine. “Living felt worth it again and I eventually found my voice,” he said. For him, that was his way to heal and reclaim his story. We were right there with him, almost reliving it.

Then, a poet from the Flint campus shared a love story in a different kind of way. Peaches and Plums, it was called. Each stage of the relationship was tied to the stages of eating a peach or a plum—like the sweetness of a peach when you first bite into it to the tartness of a plum halfway—capturing the ups and downs of love. The poem ended on a bittersweet note, capturing love’s simple but complicated beauty. While the author explained they did end up staying friends, a love story is a love story, even if it’s between friends. It was like “unraveling a love story through the sweetness and messiness of fruit.”

Finally, from Ann Arbor, another author shared a piece about loss and nature. Their words felt like a quiet tribute, with landscapes that mirrored their sadness. “I rest my head on the hook of your neck mother.” You could feel the weight of the words the more they spoke. The poem felt dreamy and light, as if they were letting nature carry their grief. Losing someone is a natural process, and the poem was a gentle reminder that it would all be okay. Trees grow back!

By the end of the night, I felt like I’d been part of something special. “Pass the Mic” was more than just an event; it was a space for people to share their stories and connect. Each voice mattered, and each story—no matter how different—was heard. It was a night to remember.

REVIEW: I and You

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Saturday, October 5th | 7:00pm | Newman Studio

 

 

How rich is your inner life? Laura Gunderson explores the inner psyche of two teenage classmates in her 2013 play, I and You. Basement Arts brings us a story full of action with just two characters: the homebound Caroline (Sofia Santos-Ufkes) and the cool-kid-type Anthony (Lyd Herrera). Caroline struggles with an unspecified terminal illness, spending all of her time on the internet, and Anthony is a seemingly straight-ahead student, a popular basketball player, and jazz enthusiast. He’s charming and mundane, she’s erratic and whimsical—makes for somewhat of a familiar teenage love story. Anthony’s unexpected entrance changes Caroline’s world forever.

Anthony’s entrance is sudden—he bursts in, insisting that he and Caroline finish their school project on the significance of pronouns in the poems of Walt Whitman. They had not been friends before, as Anthony took it upon himself to pair with Caroline, the mysterious pretty-girl who left school.  The characters are originally played by a cisgender couple, but director Katy Dawson took a new approach to the script featuring a queer relationship.

 

 

The show naturally revels in its own character study spending nearly two hours in just one location—Caroline’s bedroom—with the same two actors. The dialouge becomes a callous game of tennis, one that Herrera and Santos-Ufkes mostly played well. Some of Gunderson’s writing can feel confined to a “high-school” movie stereotype, but Ms. Dawson’s direction navigated it with clever staging and re-interpretations of lines that may have previously sounded cliche. The show moves steadily through impassioned discussions and small quarrels until Gunderson decides to drop a massive twist no less than ten minutes to the end. Ms. Dawson gets you comfortable in the world of Caroline and Anthony until you’re forced to question the entire universe that just enveloped you for two hours.

For a show with two actors in one location, Ms. Dawson’s staging was far from dull. It seems she experimented with every possible stage shape in Caroline’s room. Her conceptualization of the piece as a whole was clear and beautiful, and it would be remiss not to point out the pristine cohesion of the set, marketing, and world-building—how satisfying.

 

Sofia Santos-Ufkes (left) and Lyd Herrera as Caroline and Anthony.

Anthony’s character, while intriguing for defying typical casting norms, left me with questions. Caroline’s energy seemed erratic to that of Anthony—was his lack of energy intended to reflect his “cool-kid” mentality? I often wished for more vibrancy from Hererra to keep up with the playful spark of Santos-Ufkes. Anthony’s composure was comforting, yet his objective was sometimes unclear, which made me wonder if this was reliant on the show’s shocking finish to justify.

Ceri Roberts curated an utterly stunning set for this production in the Newman Studio (Walgreen Drama Center). Draping white cloths hung from the ceiling as well as textured cut-outs of stars and moons, with thoughtfully curated motifs of love and illness sprinkled throughout Caroline’s eclectic bedroom. It was a gift that kept on giving throughout the show.

This script is sprinkled with the intrusive emotions of youth—fear, awkwardness, and peer pressure that make for a relatable and sentimental story. This piece is wildly appropriate for collegiate and youth theater with Gunderson’s beautifully written roles for young actors who are dismissed in modern works, more often than not.

In many ways, the show is parallel to its motif of poetry—intimate, aesthetic, and poignant. The vibrant light of youth shines bright in this show, in ways both expected and unexpected.

 

 

 

 

“I and You” runs October 4th & 5th in the Newman Studio. (Note: When referring to the characters, I use the pronouns from the original text.)

Photos thanks to Basement Arts and Ellie Vice.

REVIEW: A Night of Swing at UM-Dearborn

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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.