Category: Uncategorized

The Museum of Art has opened an exhibition on Islamic Art entitled Doris Duke’s Shangri-La: Architecture, Landscape, and Islamic Art. The event opened January 25th and extends until May 4th, but I had the added bonus of participating in a conversation with PhD student Ashley Diming about the potential artistic implications of the work. The exhibition is not only Duke’s work, it includes the photography of eight other artists of Islamic origin, all of whom participated in the Shangri La artists in residence program.

This exhibition is highly personalized, as much a personal scrapbook or photo album as it is a work of art. In fact, I personally see it as more of the former than a work of art not due to lack of artistic merit, but rather because there is so much personality and memory in every photo, every record of Duke’s experiences in Islamic countries.

Duke’s original intent was to document her honeymoon and travels through the world, but also to create a visual record of herself in the act of collecting Islamic art (pottery, sculpture, ceramic tiles) important to her during the period of 1935 and onward. As Duke continued her mission, her collection grew upwards of 60 original objects and a plethora of photographs of Duke on site.

The question in my head, and one which I wish I could have asked the artist herself, was, “so what matters more, the final presentation of the exhibition, or the journey itself?” I cannot speak for the artist, but I suspect it is difficult to answer this question, as both aspects of the exhibit seem quite personally fulfilling.

On one hand, this is a deeply personal artistic endeavor, lasting years, etching memories, and exposing the artist to unique and humbling experiences. On the other hand, the act of combining this journey is an act of affirming the meaningfulness of one’s own life—Duke shares an entire era of her life with the public, but in doing so recreates her own personal journey, perhaps even gaining deeper insights into what her motivations were, how each picture she took or object she collected forever changed her own life. And in turn, her journey of self-discovery becomes an opportunity for the audience to indulge in their own journey of self-discovery.

To me this exhibit is a perfect capstone for why art is such a great thing. Duke’s exhibition shows that while art doesn’t directly save lives, it sure makes life worth living. The journey to find and catalogue important works of art lead to Duke’s own growth as a photographer and exhibitionist. Duke is an inspiration to me, showing that if we live our lives the right way, everything we do can become a work of art.

Read more about the exhibition here: http://www.umma.umich.edu/insider/duke-programs

Sunday evening, I attended a Coriolanus HD screening at the Michigan Theater. Coriolanus is one of Shakespeare’s later works, and generates particular interest in his fans because it is quite different than his other tragedies.

For those interested in knowing what sets this play apart, basically, Coriolanus is much closer to a war story than it is a traditional tragedy—common themes such as romance and psychological character study often found in Shakespeare’s more famous works such as Hamlet or Macbeth are notably underdeveloped in Coriolanus. Instead, this play asks what it means to be a true warrior, and whether the ideal personality for the battlefield precludes one from succeeding as a good civic leader.

Set during the age of the Roman empire at a time of economic strife and conflict between Romans and Volscians, Coriolanus begins with decorated war hero, Caius Martius (for you mythology fans, yes, “Martius” is a reference to Roman god of war Mars). Martius is a great fighter, in fact, his mother often mentions she’s bred him for war since we was a baby—forcing him to be independent at a young age, refusing to tend to him when he cries. Martius’ ability on the battlefield propels him to tremendous fame among the Roman public, but two Roman senators, Brutus and Sicinius are jealous of his public image and seek to prevent Martius’ success in government.

At first, it seems Brutus and Sicinius’ schemes will fail, because Martius singlehandedly defeats an entire Volscian army and is knighted Coriolanus (hey, that’s the title of the play!). As it turns out, however, the two evil senators did not need to sabotage Coriolanus, as he is perfectly fine at screwing up his public image all by himself. His prideful speeches to the public and unwillingness to acknowledge their suffering during times of economic hardship create a chilling effect. Not only does the public ignore Coriolanus’ bravery, they also accuse him of treachery to the state and banish him from the realm.

Prideful Coriolanus joins the Volscians, his rivals in battle, incensed at the Roman public, and prepared to do what he does best—smash some skulls on the battlefield. Unfortunately, Coriolanus dies in battle, considered a traitor by both camps, his death mourned by only a handful of friends and family, his greatness forgotten.

Donmar Warehouse’s production is fantastic, Tom Hiddleston plays a stout-hearted man-of-action Coriolanus perfectly. Hiddleston’s challenge is unique for a Shakespearean actor—as I have mentioned earlier, Coriolanus doesn’t really delve into its protagonist’s personality quite like other Shakespearean plays—he has less to go off of in his interpretation of the character. Moreover, the play offers a range of interpretations of Coriolanus—he may be tragically earnest, overly and obnoxiously boastful, or a victim of a strict upbringing ill-suited for a career in politics.

Hiddleston addresses the challenge quite well. Rather than defining his character too specifically, Hiddleston’s Coriolanus treads the line between different interpretations of the character. And this is the best part of the play, as it is the most personal and realistic. It is rare for any person to act and think exactly the same way at all times during a regular day, let alone the craziest weeks of your life. Coriolanus goes from public war hero to hated traitor to enemy of his hometown in the span of a few months, and I can only imagine this would hit even the most stoic warrior pretty hard in the emotions. Hiddleston succeeds in bringing this ambiguous emotional turmoil to life, for although his character is clearly scarred emotionally, it isn’t in his upbringing to show it. So it’s a battle between repression of emotion and their release at the wrong times—on the battlefield.

Who: The Steel Wheels (http://www.thesteelwheels.com/home)

What:  Concert

Where: The Ark

When: Friday, Feb. 14, 2014. Show starts at 8pm, doors open at 7:30pm.

After enthralling audiences across the country with their original Bluegrass/Newgrass music, it is no surprise that The Steel Wheels have sold out the Ark for their Valentines Day show. Combining old Bluegrass tradition with their unique innovative sound, The Steel Wheels join Meenonite 4 part harmonies with fiddle, bass, mandolin and tenor resulting in a original take on Americana music. Maverick Magazine says “Passionate music like this cannot be ignored….it demands to be embraced” and clearly it has, as The Steel Wheels have been selling out venues around the country as they promote their new CD No More Rain.

Today was a fitting day for Sharon Krebs to give her lecture on Singing Like a Nightingale. Today the Moore Building was abuzz with 315 perspective students and their families waiting to audition for the School of Music, Theatre and Dance. As the perspectives lined the halls and filled the practice rooms, current students did their best to hide the stolen bagels from the auditionee welcome table and their displeasure with the newly claustrophobic halls. It was after pushing my way through the clumps of auditionees lining the main hallway that I entered Moore Rm. 2038, the room in which the talk was to take place.

I say it was fitting day for the lecture because of the path that Sharon Krebs took with her research of the nightingale metaphor. Being a prolific metaphor within musical and Germanic literature it was interesting that Krebs focused her research on the concept of art as artificial in comparison to the concept of the nightingale as the pinnacle of all that is natural.

Kreb’s began her lecture by informing the audience that she began her research while she was in Germany observing masterclasses. In one of these masterclasses a young Mezzo Soprano came under criticism for her technique, and after taking the advice of the teacher she sang beautifully but exclaimed, “I feel like a robot!” Further, Kreb was exploring a German archive and discovered a number of reverent letters to famous opera singers of the 19^th century which praised their ability to communicate with the audience, and then bestowed the highest compliment on the singer: that of comparing them to a nightingale.

During her lecture, Kreb’s noted that in modern literature there is only one singer who has been called a nightingale, soprano Jessye Norman. However, this praise came from a fellow musician and not a reviewer.  Modern reviewers have tended to shy away from critique of the existential moments within a performance, focusing their praise (or dissatisfaction) around the vocal aesthetic and technique of the singer. It is in that focus in which the nightingale is lost to modern music, because the nightingale is that of the existential, providing musical moments in which the vocalist becomes the mouthpiece for thoughts in the hearts of the audience.

The idea of the singer as the mouthpiece of the audiences’ inner thoughts and desires revisits the old thought which much of mainstream music has abandoned ;the idea that a performance is not about musical aesthetic but the communication with the audience. This communication allows the performer to rise above its class, becoming exceptional by becoming different. It is in this difference in which existential musical moments occur and a performer loses the artificiality that is inherently attached with art (most people don’t sing an Italian aria to convince their father to let them marry), and becomes a nightingale.

Who: Sharon Krebs (Vancouver International Song Institute)
What: Lecture/concert exploring the historical context in which sopranos became refereed to as nightingales.
When: Friday, January 31 at 2:30 p.m.
Where: Moore Building (School of Music, North Campus) Rm. 2038
Admission: Free

In the 19th century, the Swedish soprano Jenny Lind took America by storm earning the title of the “Swedish nightingale”. However, she was not the only soprano which was granted the praise of being equated to the nightingale during the 19th century. This lecture/concert will feature Sharon Krebs from the Vancouver International Song Institute as she explores the 19th-century German literature in which this metaphor developed.