PREVIEW: Real and Imagined

Until December 4, Stamps Professor Heidi Kumao’s solo exhibition is on display at the Stamps Gallery. In this exhibition, Professor Kumao features narrative fabric works made from fabric cutouts and machine and hand stitching on felt. Professor Kumao uses these fabrics and experimental animations to visualize the psychological and emotional undertones behind everyday interactions and relationships. The title, “Real and Imagined,” is inspired by the backlash to the #MeToo movement, and how a woman’s testimony can be accepted as reality as dismissed as fiction at the same time.

I am very much looking forward to Professor Kumao’s exhibition. Her featured work has a very distinct and playful style, contrasted by the serious subject matter. I’m already impressed by how strong the message of each piece is despite how minimal the style is. I can only imagine how much care and time went into this exhibition, and I’m quite excited to see it in person.

The Stamps Gallery, located at 201 S. Division Street, is open on Tuesdays and Fridays from 2-7 to visitors with an M-Card and a mask.

PREVIEW: The Book of Two Ways by Jodi Picoult

Having read and enjoyed a number of author Jodi Picoult’s novels, including Small Great Things, A Spark of Light, and Leaving Time, I am excited to start on her brand new novel, The Book of Two Ways.

Just released on September 22, the novel’s story is centered around a plane crash and is, according to Picoult’s website, “about the choices that change the course of our lives.”

If you are in need of an escape from school year stress and the news cycle, head to a library or local bookstore to check out The Book of Two Ways. The hardcover edition of the book currently retails for $28.99, or you can get it for free at the library!

REVIEW: folklore

I’ve always been a Taylor Swift fan. In second grade, “Love Story” was the first song I bought on my blue ipod Nano. In third grade, my dad took me to my first ever concert: the Fearless tour at the Allstate Arena. In sixth grade, my best friend’s dad picked us up from school the day Red came out and took us straight to Target to buy our copies. For me and so many others in my generation, Taylor Swift’s music was a pivotal part of our childhoods;  as we grew up, we watched her cross the bridge from country to mainstream pop, a feat few others before her were able to accomplish, and become one of the most influential artists of the decade. 

Now, 2020 Swift has surpassed even this. In a surprise drop less than one year after the release of her seventh album,  Lover,  Swift blessed the music world with her eighth record: folkore. Her most mature work to date, and the first in her catalogue to be classified as alternative, folklore represents a Swift album that can appeal to even those who have vehemently avoided her work in the past, citing it as “girly” or “shallow.” Though I don’t agree with those critiques, I find it hard to believe Swift’s critics could continue to apply them to her latest work. folklore presents a beautifully crafted, interwoven series of stories, characters, and emotions set to mystical acoustics, proving that Swift’s music is anything but superficial. 

According to Swift, the record was penned in its entirety during this summer’s quarantine period. Matching this isolation, folklore is much more subdued than Swift’s last three high energy albums.  Slow, sad songs like “Exile” and “Illicit Affairs” create perhaps the most heart-wrenching listen since Red’s  “All Too Well.” Though an alternative record, Swift definitely references her country roots on this album, like during folksy ballad “Betty,” which features heavy acoustic guitar and harmonica. folklore is both a callback to the best work of Swift’s past and something new altogether. 

Other than its  shift in genre, the main feature that sets folklore apart from Swift’s previous work is its strong roots in fiction and storytelling, as opposed to solely detailing Swift’s own life experiences. “I found myself not only writing my own stories, but also writing about or from the perspective of people I’ve never met, people I’ve known, or those I wish I hadn’t,” Swift wrote of the album. Though she has dabbled in work like this before, like writing from a friend’s perspective in “Speak Now”,  or a neighbor’s perspective in “Mary’s Song”,  Swift’s talent for telling stories that aren’t strictly autobiographical has taken on a whole new life in 2020. For example, three songs on folklore, “Cardigan”,  “August”,  and “Betty”, depict the three different perspectives of a fictional love triangle, creating a  complex level of storytelling that surpasses anything similar that Swift has done before. 

Only expanding this idea more, the album is broken into different interconnected “chapters,” which Swift has detailed on her instagram and website, so far titled: “the escapism chapter”;  the sleepless nights chapter” ; “the saltbox house chapter” ; and “the yeah I showed up at your party chapter.” Each chapter has six songs, and these groupings suggest many different lenses through which to view them, hinting at all sorts of double meanings and hidden messages. The storytelling here is truly masterful, and allows the record to stay fresh for countless listens. 

The thing about Swift that really sets her apart from others in her field is her incredible talent for writing and lyrics, and folklore allows this skill to shine more than any of her previous albums. Musically speaking, folklore is a beautiful, relaxed, indie-sounding record, but nothing groundbreaking. Sound-wise, it walks the line between mellow pop and chill indie rock, just barely crossing over into the alternative category. If the lyrics and vocals were weak, this album might not be anything special. But they aren’t. They are Swift, at her raw, relatable, emotional best: beautiful,  honest, and breathtaking. 

Hearing folklore for the first time was the most positive reaction I’ve had to a new Taylor Swift record since Red in 2014, and I think that it might really be her best work to date. Even if you’ve never liked her in the past, this album could be the one to convince you that Swift does have something special to offer, in her songwriting and storytelling.  You can stream folklore on all platforms, and immerse yourself in the type of fairytale its name suggests.

REVIEW: Paul Taylor: Celebrate the Dancemaker

Though it was not a traditional performance, UMS’s online presentation of Paul Taylor: Celebrate the Dancemaker was nonetheless something special. Near-equal parts dialogue and archival footage, it featured University of Michigan dance historian and educator Angela Kane and Paul Taylor Dance Company Artistic Director Michael Novak in conversation about the works of modern dance choreographer Paul Taylor, as well as the history of the dance company he founded. Because it was a presentation specifically for UMS audiences, Paul Taylor: Celebrate the Dancemaker was also able to provide a sense of local community, despite being an asynchronously viewed video.

One of the best parts of the event was the insight that it offered into Paul Taylor’s wide-ranging and ground-breaking career. Taylor’s experiences as a painter and a collegiate swimmer informed his understanding of depth and movement onstage. Expanding the boundaries of modern dance at the time, he was also one of the first artists to employ a year-round, full-time dance company.  After opening with a rapid-fire montage of selections from Paul Taylor’s 147 works, the video featured Novak and Kane discussing some of Taylor’s most monumental works, and then showing excerpts of them.

The first work explored during the presentation was Taylor’s 1962 work Aureole, which challenged the notion that modern dance was limited to “modern music and weighty meanings.” In fact, Aureole was a lyrical, flowing, light work that, in the grainy black-and-white original film of Paul Taylor and Liz Walton, appeared to be almost be a modern impression of a classical ballet.

Then, Kane and Novak introduced audiences to Aureole’s opposite, Scudorama (1963). Lyricism was replaced with sharp angles, jarring rhythms, and a weighty, almost apocalyptic feel. Given the immediately apparent contrast between these two works, it is no surprise that Michael Novak referred to Taylor as the “master of light and dark.”

If the previous two works illustrated Taylor’s artist range, the next work featured, Le Sacre du Printemps (the Rehearsal), illustrated his artistic genius. A hyper-stylization of Igor Stravinsky’s (notoriously controversial in 190) ballet Le Sacre du Printemps, or The Rite of Spring, Taylor’s work challenges audiences to reexamine the original. Taylor’s work features a rehearsal for Stravinsky’s work inside of it, along with a plot line that closely mirrors that of the original ballet (which reminded me of the musical Kiss Me Kate, which does the same with Shakespeare’s play The Taming of the Shrew; also similar in its reimagination of an existing work is Max Richter’s work Vivaldi Recomposed).

After a short clip from the Academy Award-nominated documentary Dancemaker (1998), which offered a candid view of Taylor’s creative process, the presentation culminated in video of Taylor’s monumental work Promethean Fire (2002) in full. Like Aureole, the work juxtapositions modern dance with music that is decidedly not modern (In this case, it is Leopold Stokowski’s orchestral arrangement based on three of Bach’s keyboard pieces – the Toccata and Fugue in D minor, the Prelude in E-flat minor from Book I of The Well-Tempered Clavier, and the chorale prelude “Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott.” Chances are, you may recognize the beginning from the Toccata and Fugue in D minor). However, unlike Aureole’s quiet lyricism, Promethean Fire makes a much bolder statement: it is tense, fiery-seeming, and almost overwhelming during parts. In fact, it was the first and last time that Paul Taylor would utilize all sixteen dancers in the company in one work, on one stage. UMS calls Promethean Fire  ”arguably one of his greatest artistic achievements created in the wake of 9/11, proclaiming that even after a cataclysmic event, the human spirit finds renewal and emerges triumphant.” For an audience in today’s landscape, however, the work felt timely, and was a fitting conclusion to an artistically informative presentation.

REVIEW: Zeros

Ever since his win at the Glastonbury Festival’s Emerging Talent Competition in 2015, the music world has had its eye on English singer-songwriter Declan McKenna. At the time of his victory, the rising star was just 16 years old.  Less than a year later, McKenna was taking the indie rock scene by storm with his breakout single “Brazil,” an upbeat critique of the 2014  FIFA World Cup and its suspected corruption scandal. Shortly after, McKenna put out his debut album, titled What Do You Think About the Car? to mixed, but overall positive reviews. With a few standout songs, and an eclectic, energetic combination of  garage rock, jazz, and synth-pop, the young star’s first album made him one to watch. After a three year interval, McKenna has finally released his second album;   Zeros, which debuted in August,  is an artistic triumph that maintains McKenna’s unique energy while offering the depth and consistency that his first album lacked. 

While What Do You Think About the Car? was branded a very political album, thanks to its numerous social critiques of topics such as political corruption, inequality, media frenzy, and religious hypocrisy,  Zeros  has taken this message to another level, while also creating a layered story for the listener to follow. The unity of the album is truly one of its strengths, not just in sound, but also in theme. Zeros takes place in some sort of dystopia, or wasteland, perhaps suggesting we have left the days where we could make societal improvements, as McKenna begged us to do in his first album, behind. Many critics have compared the overall feel to an episode of Black Mirror, and I have to agree: there is something truly sinister going on here. The story often follows Daniel, who first appears in the song  “Daniel, You’re Still a Child,” and crops up numerous other times throughout the album. This particular song is one of McKenna’s best, with a catchy chorus reminiscent of some of McKenna’s own influences, namely U2. 

The sound, marketing, and topic of the album are very united in this futuristic theme, while also taking on a retro feel. Many of McKenna’s other idols, like Queen and David Bowie, are also  clearly represented across the tracks. All in all this album is much more “rock and roll” than the rhythmic pleas of What do You Think About the Car?  Personally, I think “Rapture” is the best song on the album, and truly McKenna at his finest: it meshes apocalyptic, desperate lyrics with strong guitar licks, retro drums, and of course, McKenna’s unique vocal presence that is arguably the star of any track. It represents a more mature sound that many of his previous hits failed to quite attain, and is a real step in the right direction for the future of McKenna’s music. 

Though I did appreciate the more showy, rock and roll feel of this album, I also would have liked to see a little more of McKenna’s own roots, as opposed to just the influences of other rock legends. At times, the inspiration felt a little heavy handed, and I wish he would try less to emulate these greats, like Queen and Bowie, and try more to simply infuse his own music with a touch of their influence. Though it had its shortcomings, one of the strengths of McKenna’s first album was his own novel approach to the rock genre and his refusal to be put in one box sound-wise. I liked that Zeros was more cohesive, but I wish it had a song or two more reminiscent of the raw, emotive songs from his earlier discography, namely “Bethlehem” or  “Basic.”

Overall, this album remains a great success for McKenna, and I think it rounds out his discography nicely. Dynamic and distinctive, McKenna still refuses to let his sound be nailed down, and I think he will only continue to evolve in the future. I urge you to check out his entire discography for some social critiques with a good beat and captivating vocals. Zeros has solidified McKenna’s role as an artist to watch for years to come. 

 

copper embossed zentangle in a black frame

REVIEW: Copper Embossing with the Ann Arbor Art Center

This weekend I took some time to create with the copper embossing ArtBox from the Ann Arbor Art Center (this ArtBox is free to all U of M students with a Passport to the Arts)! This was my first experience working with copper, and I had never done any sort of embossing before. My only exposure to copper embossing was an awareness that it existed from old copper embossing pieces that used to hang at my grandparents’ house. Back then it seemed fantastically complex and difficult, but this project turned out to be simple and fun to complete!

Everything I needed to complete the project was included in the ArtBox, including the sheet of copper, a piece of foam to work on top of (to avoid embossing whatever is underneath :), the wooden embossing tool, sticky tape to attach the frame, and the frame itself (which I thought was a nice touch). There was also a piece of paper the same size as the copper square for a practice sketch, and a detailed set of instructions. I found the instructions to be very detailed, clear, and easy to follow. About half of the instructions were dedicated to the technical details of how to emboss copper, and the other half were dedicated to developing the “zentangle” art form suggested with the kit. The zentangle instructions are really nice if you’re also suffering a persistent case of artblock, or if you’re just not sure how to get started.

The first step was developing my paper sketch. Originally, I got pretty detailed on the paper version since I knew the paper was scaled exactly to the size of the copper sheet, and I assumed I could simply overlay it on top of the copper and trace along the pencil lines. I did this to trace my original long, winding, pattern divider lines but realized quickly it wasn’t going to work out well for the rest of the piece. Firstly, the instructions advise (and I concur) alternating the sides you’re embossing on to create different raised and recessed designs. However, to do this, you need to flip over the sheet of copper…and you won’t be able to see your paper that you taped to the other side. The second problem was that tracing over the paper made it harder to apply the force I needed to properly emboss the copper. You need to press harder than you think you do to get a good line (the foam allows you to apply some serious pressure without fear). The takeaway here is not to overdo your sketch. Sketching out the dividing lines and tracing those can be useful, but after that I started using my sketch as just a very loose guidelines for the types of patterns I wanted to put in different areas—and I ended up straying from the sketch a decent amount.

In the end, I had a lot of fun and I would definitely recommend it as a relaxing way to try a new art form. It’s something I haven’t seen opportunities to learn about very many times in my life, so I would take advantage of this one to try it out in a low stakes way! If you end up loving it, I did a bit of researching and found out that it’s not as expensive a hobby as I might have thought!