Danish String Quartet

PREVIEW: Danish String Quartet

This Thursday, the Danish String Quartet returns to Rackham Auditorium to grace the UMS program for the second time. Their program for Thursday includes string quartet pieces by Haydn, Beethoven, and the Danish composer Hans Abrahamsen. Although the quartet is now a world-renowned traveling group, they come from stunning humble and interesting origins. The three founding members of the group met at summer camp for musicians when not yet teenagers and formed friendships through playing soccer together. The group was officially formed when the members were just 15 and 16, and despite their notable success over the past 15 years, still name “hanging out with friends” as their favorite part of music.

Listen to the Danish String Quartet:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfuEIHEZobc

REVIEW: Beautiful Boy.

Beautiful Boy is like an idea of a great film, a summation of perfect things – virtuous moral, talented cast, a story with a capacity for emotion as deep as the ocean. It’s posed as an indie centrepiece in the film industry, especially anticipated with leads Timothée Chalamet and Steve Carell. But Beautiful Boy, as a sum, is not as magnificent as its separate parts, playing everything a little too safely to hurt, a little too cleanly to feel. The gorgeous visuals and honest dialogue is lost to a sterile mood, a story that’s been overly delineated into clean lines.

As far as addiction memoirs go, this film is on the tamer side, almost feeling inhibited. Some of Beautiful Boy’s appeal is, however, its muted tones, the cyclic styles that the film runs in during its one hundred and thirty-nine-minute duration. It’s almost tiresome, the anticipation of everything falling apart, the highs and lows amid a sunny L.A. backdrop or the dark corner of a bathroom stall. The feeling of an emotional disconnect, the weight of a cyclonic helplessness seeps onto the screen as we follow Nic’s father, David, and his attempts to understand the rise and falls in his son’s addiction and recovery. Just like how David had told a young Nic in the airport in one scene – “Do you know how much I love you? If you could take all the words in the language, it still wouldn’t describe how much I love you. I love you more than everything” – Nic is his sun, as if he were heliotropic, moving in the same motions day and night.

The film isn’t dramatized in the sort of voyeuristic pull that watching a disaster unfold has like in some other drug films. There is a layer of abstraction that comes from Beautiful Boy being primarily focused on David and his otherwise idle life, with shots of rolling green lawns and kids’ swim meets. It’s the kind of complacency that drove Nic to crystal meth, an all-American boy with a suburban emptiness, a lethal boredom, a hole to fill. This mood is perfect in Beautiful Boy.

But for the moments where Beautiful Boy is supposed to emerge from its staid nature with the capability for heartache it has, it feels like a tick box on pain. Timothée Chalamet plays Nic with sensitivity that’s powerful, simultaneously a crude driving force and an acute fragility in each scene, with Steve Carell alongside, growing into his role the longer the film plays on, becoming more and more certain as David with each iteration of Nic’s relapse and recovery. Yet as a whole, Beautiful Boy feels not quite there. Despite a few significant scenes, there isn’t enough for it to rise from the consistent white noise of gloom that drowns the film.

Maybe this is its intention. The film has some rough edges carefully stripped away from the original written memoir, turning it into something more refined and clean and easy to digest. If it wanted to be more accessible, more focused on the particular struggle of loving someone already long gone, more soft-spoken and hopeful, then Beautiful Boy has accomplished that. Otherwise, it feels as if there is a loss of depth, a film that only treads in the shallows, waterlogged, when it was given an ocean.

Check out Beautiful Boy at Michigan Theater.

REVIEW: Weaving

It all started with a quote.

“I said to the sun, ‘Tell me about the big bang.’ The sun said, ‘it hurts to become.’” -Andrea Gibson

This quote actually embodies the theme of the play “Weaving” quite beautifully and fittingly, a story about becoming one’s true self and finding a place of belonging as that acceptance starts to settle in.

Vero and Bastion are two best friends in high school, both struggling to accept an identity that is true yet scary. Avery starts talking to Vero, lending her many books. Dominic and Bastion have been friends for a while, playing basketball every so often, but as Dominic is in his senior year of high school and Bastion is a year younger, confusing tensions and dynamics start to flare up.

In this play, Vero and Bastion were experiencing similar journeys in their denial and reluctant acceptance of their sexuality. However, they both couldn’t bring themselves to admit this to each other, showing how isolating such a revelation can be. It can be hard to admit something that the government and society has deemed as a sin or a vice or an indecent and inhumane act, whether it’s to yourself or your closest friend or your potential love interest that has sparked this all within you.

Bastion delivered a moving soliloquy during his history presentation, using prohibition as a metaphor for the LGBT community. The government can try to restrict people with all its power and the law, but the people will always persevere and push back. There was a rhythm and emotion to this speech, giving it a slam poetry-esque vibe that Sébastian Butler nailed with every trembling word and frantic pace.

Books played an important part of this play, with Avery giving Vero many books as her way of dropping a hint. For her paper, Vero wrote a literary criticism from a feminist lense, and while her teacher failed to appreciate what she had to say since she didn’t follow the prompt and quickly dismissed her objections to the heavily male-dominated curriculum in literature, Vero expressed the frustrations and the desire for recognition that many women feel today.

Hodges Adams wrote a chillingly realistic play of the everyday life of high schoolers in a town they couldn’t stand any longer. Every character in this story had some struggles. No one’s life is perfect, not the bullies or the happy, supportive friend. Natasha felt the pressures of applying to colleges and a suffocating grandfather. Though Marcus beat up Bastion in an act of homophobic violence, he was struggling with a substance-abusive family, having his own powerful take on prohibition. While this doesn’t excuse his intolerable behavior, it just shows that everyone is dealing with something under the surface others can’t see, accurately capturing the complexity of life and people.

I am incredibly grateful that Hodges Adams wrote this important piece of art and that they got to see it come alive in the Keene Theater by the RC Players. This play was incredibly moving and difficult to watch, precisely because it portrays the hard and strong life people of the LGBT community have to live to survive within themselves and within society.

REVIEW: MACfest

As I entered the theatre, it was clear that the A Cappella community on campus is more like a family. With members from various groups socializing amongst one another and with those in the audience, the air was one of amiability. You could tell that many of the performance-goers were close family and friends of the performers themselves.

Rackham Auditorium itself was quite the venue. From the vintage orange velvet seats to the intricate design on the ceiling to the pillars that act as entrances on stage, it provided a nice backdrop for the event.

Albeit a few technical difficulties with the sound equipment and some general disorganization in the entering and exiting of groups onto the stage, the night proved to be one of great entertainment. One of the highlights of the evening included the Friars, an all-male group that’s a subset of the Men’s Glee Club, duping the crowd with the Jonas Brothers equivalent of Rick-Rolling. They were as lovely, wacky, and tall as ever. Maize Mirchi and Amazing Blue both put forward an impressive stage presence and theatrical performance- showcasing their strengths as two of the most well-acclaimed competing groups on campus. With their contagious energy and shifting formations they were both engaged and engaging to the audience. Amazing Blue coins themselves as a group that isn’t afraid to take creative risks and with their unique take on the classic song “Nowhere to Run” by Martha and the Vandellas, they certainly lived up to that claim and I would say, the creative risk paid off. Similarly, Mirchi delivered on their promise of being a group that fuses together influences of South-Asian tradition with today’s music and did so in a captivating and impressive way. The Sirens entranced the audience with a sultry version of none other than the beloved line-dance, Cotton-Eyed Joe. Although a bit unorthodox, it ended up being quite hypnotic, from the soloists crystal clear vocals to the interlocking harmonies of the all-female group.

One of the biggest surprises of the evening was the guest performance by UM-Flint’s sole a cappella group the Flint Octaves, who brought one of the liveliest performances of the whole night, dancing and bright color scheme included. Good News and Kol HaKovad, the Christian and Jewish A Cappella groups on campus, respectively, brought great energy to the stage with fun and really solid-sounding vocals. Another group, the Sopranos, brought great “levels” to their powerful performance. It was really impactful to see such a large group of women singing in solidarity together on stage. The G-Men brought home the performance with their semi-alarming entrance turned into auditory inspiration. The self-proclaimed “premiere a cappella soccer team” know how to leave you eternally wondering when their song will be over but never wanting it to end.

Overall, I greatly enjoyed the wide diversity of songs, styles, and presentations that each group brought to the stage and the individualistic twists they each took with their own renditions of music both familiar and unfamiliar to myself. As the semester comes to a close, many of these groups will hold a solo concert showcasing more of their own phenomenal work- if you get the chance, definitely don’t miss them.

 

REVIEW: Candide

To celebrate what would have been Leonard Bernstein’s 100th birthday, the University Opera Theatre and University Symphony Orchestra put on a production of his famous Candide this weekend. Through Bernstein’s catchy songs performed by talented singers and orchestra members, the audience was lead on the wild ride Voltaire’s naive young man, Candide.

The wonder of Voltaire’s story is that despite the superficial optimism and lightheartedness which buoys the entire narrative, there are very serious themes at work which take on much more serious tones. The musical opera translation of this, and the performance I saw, balanced these very well. Alternating between small chalkboards with the word “GUN” and funny love songs on mismatched ideals were darker issues concerning intolerance, including sexism and classism. Of course, this satire is part of what made this production so great to experience. The audience laughed at the perpetual optimism of Pangloss, the tutor, even when he revealed his syphilis contraction which would have ended in his death at the time. Candide’s equally naive love interest, Cunegonde, has an eye rolling and amusing vapidity and superficiality until one actually considers the pain of rape and prostitution that she goes through. The main characters’ seemingly silly plights were made funny, then quickly made somber and serious only to switch back to a lighthearted mood once again.

This complexity was all accomplished through masterful singing and what can only be described as truly creative and skillful sets. An entire map of the world was drawn on a large backdrop, and with each “situation” Candide and his associates found themselves in people would climb up on ladders with their own pieces of chalk and fill in where and what happened in the story, until at the very end where audience members could see the entire expanse of what had happened. Ensemble members were dressed in grey school uniforms, which to me not only added to the “school setting” but also provided a great juxtaposition between the more brightly, some might say garishly, costumed main characters. It seemed to make an additional point: while Candide and his friends were living wild adventures and discovering so much of life, the majority of the world stayed the same and people just had to survive. Then of course there was the singing and acting themselves, which were performed wonderfully and had the audience laughing and more seriously quiet.

It was such a fantastic opportunity to be able to come see this production, and I look forward to being able to see the creativity with which the next piece is directed. Congratulations to all of the performers!

 

 

REVIEW: Weaving

The lights in the Keene Theater dim and signal the start of the show, but no actors appear on stage. Instead, a large screen descends from the ceiling and reveals a quote: “I said to the sun, ‘Tell me about the Big Bang.’ The sun said, ‘It hurts to become.’ — Andrea Gibson.” This short line accurately represents the major themes that persist throughout Weaving. The show, primarily an LGBTQ coming-of-age story, also touches on themes of sexism, homophobia, and the relationships that shape our lives — friendship, romantic, and familial.

Right away, the opening scene sets the tone for the rest of the show. A group of friends — Vero, Bastian, Dominic, and Marcus — are playing basketball together. However, an argument quickly arises when Marcus tries to exclude Vero because he doesn’t want to play with a girl anymore. The rest of the group defends her, but Vero uses the homework excuse and decides to leave. This short scene gives the audience a lot of important information. Firstly, the audience is introduced to one of the primary sources of external conflict throughout the show: Marcus’ ugly and exclusionary behavior. In addition, we learn a good amount about the dynamics of the friend group. Dominic and Bastian are loyal friends who aren’t afraid to stand up for Vero, which in addition to revealing important aspects of their character, also hints to the overarching theme of friendship.

The dynamics of this friend group only become more important as the show goes on and more conflicts come into play. Vero and Bastian are grappling with their new romantic feelings for people of the same sex, Marcus and Natasha are dealing with family problems at home, and each character faces their own academic struggle. As these issues create more and more stress for each of them, friendships change: Marcus becomes more aggressive, Bastian is more distant, and Natasha and Vero grow closer. Throughout the show, I enjoyed watching as the characters learned how to capably be there for each other. For instance, there’s a moment when Vero is struggling to put her feelings into words, and Natasha reassures her that she doesn’t have to talk if she’s not ready to. After this scene, Vero tells Bastian the same thing. Previously, she had been pressuring Bastian to talk to her about his feelings for Dominic, but after her conversation with Natasha, Vero learns that all she needs to do is assure Bastian that she will be there to listen when he’s ready.

Marcus, however, is an exception to this character development. His behavior ultimately creates an unrepairable divide between him and the rest of the group. He is consistently sexist; he wants to exclude Vero from basketball and criticizes Dominic by calling him a girl. His homophobia also becomes apparent when he physically assaults Bastian because he (correctly) assumes he’s gay. I disliked his character, not only for his inexcusable behavior, but also because his character was very static. He was consistently mean, and there weren’t any moments where he had positive interactions with his friends. There was reference to his father’s alcoholism, which may have been an attempt to make his character more personable by giving a reason for his behavior. If this was the case, I didn’t find it successful.

I did, however, appreciate how the coming-out process for Vero and Bastian was handled. The parallel of their two experiences highlighted the similarities that unite all coming-out stories, as well as the many differences that distinguish them. Bastian seemed to have a harder time accepting his sexuality than Vero did because he struggled with a lot of internalized homophobia. In the end, however, he was able to overcome this and accept his feelings for Dominic. This development was touching to see.

The play also tackled themes of sexism, family issues, and troubles at school. Although I believe that all of these topics are important and very relevant to the teenage experience, I felt, at times, that reducing the number of themes addressed, or addressing them to a lesser extent, would have improved the show overall.  It sometimes felt like the play was tackling too many issues at once, which made certain moments feel unrealistic or forced. There was one scene, which I referenced earlier, where Marcus insults Dominic by calling him a girl. Dominic responds by telling Marcus he shouldn’t say those kinds of things. For me, this moment felt unrealistic because during my time in high school, very few boys or girls called out their peers on sexist comments. Boys often made comments like these, or worse, and I seldom heard them corrected, especially by another one of their male friends.

On another note, however, I did really enjoy the transitions between scenes. Transitions were active moments where music played and actors moved about the stage and surrounding areas. When the mood was lighter, especially during Act 1, upbeat music played and the actors appeared to be walking through school hallways or getting ready for gym class. Contrarily, after a sad scene, somber music played, the lights were dim, and a single, distressed actor took the stage. I enjoyed these transitions because they kept the show interesting, reflected the passage of time, and emphasized the current mood.

After the show came to a close, I made my way out of the small, intimate theater feeling moved by the performance and glad I had gone. The actors delivered impressive performances, the soundtrack to the show was well done, and the RC Players delivered an interesting and meaningful story about LGBTQ youth experiences.