REVIEW: Flow

Some call it a film for children; others criticize it as lazy and aimless storytelling. Some even find it boring. But after watching the animated film “Flow,” I can see why it has captivated audiences worldwide. 

“Flow” follows a cat trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic world where the water is continuously rising. The film’s protagonist, simply known as Cat, must work together with a group of animals to stay alive, including the Labrador, the Lemur, the Capybara and the Secretarybird. 

The film’s plot is loose and meandering, reflecting its unconventional creation process. Director Laila Bērziņa chose to forgo traditional storyboarding and worked without any deleted scenes, allowing the narrative to develop organically. This stream-of-consciousness approach lends the film a natural and almost dream-like quality that some viewers may find aimless. Yet for others, it’s this unpredictability that makes “Flow” feel so authentic, like a visual diary rather than a structured story. 

One of the most striking elements of “Flow” is its complete lack of dialogue. Instead, the film relies entirely on music and sound to convey emotion and progress the plot. The absence of spoken words forces the viewer to pay attention to the soft, pastel visuals in order to keep track of what is happening. This makes it impossible to absentmindedly scroll on your phone — you have to be present. The score, composed by Latvian musician Ilze Kalniņa, heightens the immersion with its haunting melodies. Through this unique combination of visual storytelling and sound design, “Flow” proves that a film doesn’t need dialogue to be moving.

The animation style of “Flow” is just as unique as its storytelling approach. Entirely created using Blender, a free and open-source graphics software, Flow stands as a testament to the power of independent animation. The decision to use Blender not only gave the film its signature fluidity and hand-crafted feel, but also demonstrated how accessible tools can produce Oscar-winning results.

The film’s critical success is undeniable. It won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature and Best Original Score, impressively beating out Disney’s Inside Out 2 and Studio Ghibli’s Kaze no Uta. These wins marked Latvia’s first-ever Oscars, and the country erupted in celebration of the country’s recognition. Latvians hailed “Flow” as a victory for both the nation and the animation team.

Despite being an animated film, and therefore often perceived as child-oriented, “Flow” resonates with audiences of all ages. Its mix of tension, tenderness and visual beauty makes it not just a film to watch but a film to experience. While it might not appeal to everyone, “Flow” undeniably pushes the boundaries of what animation can achieve and challenges us to see storytelling through a new lens.

REVIEW: The Music of Studio Ghibli

Performing on the Michigan Theater stage this March was not only the talented musicians of the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra (A2SO) but also a giant, grey, round creature known as Totoro. The audience laughed as the creature suddenly popped onto the stage, waving its arms and pouting as the conductor playfully reprimanded it. This creature, Totoro, is a beloved character from My Neighbor Totoro, a 1988 animated film directed by Hayao Miyazaki and produced by Studio Ghibli, a renowned Japanese animation studio known for its beautifully crafted and nostalgic films. 

For their March Pops performance, Studio Ghibli at the Symphony, A2SO brought the magic of Studio Ghibli to life through music, performing Joe Hishashi’s pieces from My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, and Howl’s Moving Castle. Studio Ghibli films have found a loyal audience for several generations, reflected in the large number of families that attended. The typical formality of classical performances was immediately deconstructed, evidently with the focus being on media rooted in pop culture, but also in the tone guest conductor Wilbur Lin addressed the audience. Throwing in jokes and placing small stuffed animals of Studio Ghibli characters on his podium made the night much more family-friendly. 

The night opened up with a variation on Hisaishi’s Merry-Go-Round and Cave of Mind from Howl’s Moving Castle, transitioning into a segment intertwining music and narration from My Neighbor Totoro. Momo Kajiwara narrated the film’s story in Japanese, while the orchestra provided a playful, accompanying score, enhancing the tale through sound. Kajiwara’s crisp, sweet voice was well-suited for the role, adding warmth to the performance. However, I found myself straining to read the pamphlet in the dark, as it was the only translation source for her narration. Because the story is such a central aspect of the experience, it would have been helpful to have more accessible forms of translation. 

Momo Kajiwara narrating Orchestra Stories: My Neighbor Totoro

After a brief intermission—during which guests eagerly lined up to take photos with Totoro—the performance concluded with Kiki’s Delivery Service and Spirited Away Suite. The latter was especially expansive, capturing the emotional arc of the film as the music swelled with dark tension before fading into a gentle stillness.

Hearing these pieces performed live evoked a deep sense of nostalgia. The childlike playfulness present in the films was beautifully mirrored in Hisaishi’s scores, particularly through the lively percussion. The tinkling of bells and the warm, rounded tones of the xylophone added a whimsical touch. However, despite Studio Ghibli’s strong appeal to children, the films resonate with audiences of all ages because they explore deeper themes. Miyazaki’s works evolve with the viewer, gradually revealing reflections on childhood innocence, cultural identity, corruption, love, and family.This emotional depth was mirrored in the performance, where moments of lightheartedness were contrasted by sudden shifts in mood. Conductor Lin noted that Hisaishi deliberately used percussion to mark these transitions—an idea that stayed with me as the dark boom of the cymbal echoed through the theater. 

Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra performing select Studio Ghibli pieces

The evening was a mesmerizing tribute to the timeless magic of Studio Ghibli, bringing the beloved films to life through music. A2SO’s performance not only showcased the brilliance of Hisaishi’s compositions but also captured the emotional depth and whimsical charm that make Miyazaki’s stories so enduring. From the playful innocence of My Neighbor Totoro to the sweeping grandeur of Spirited Away, it was a night that reminded audiences of why these films continue to enchant audiences of all ages.

REVIEW: Gershwin Centennial Concert

Though composer George Gershwin and his younger brother, lyricist and Pulitzer Prize winner Ira Gershwin, are undoubtedly celebrated as two great contributors to American music, their works were surprisingly never standardized. As a result, numerous scores and recordings of their music circulate with inconsistencies in tempos and dynamics, and some have been lost to time. To preserve the essence of his granduncles’ works, University of Michigan alumnus Todd Gershwin created the Gershwin Initiative with the School of Music, Theatre & Dance (SMTD). As part of this initiative, SMTD annually hosts a centennial performance of the two brothers’ works. This year, Sunday, January 26th, a crowd of students and locals alike flocked to the Michigan Theater to catch the performance of the music written by the brothers in 1925.

Accompanied by pianist Jacob Kerzner, SMTD students Nicholas Alexander Wilkinson II, Oliver Boomer, Aquila Sol, and Elle Michaels sang George Gershwin’s compositions from Tip-Toes (“These Charming People,” “Sweet and Low-Down,” and “That Certain Feeling”), Tell Me More (“Mr. And Mrs. Sipkin,” “Three Times a Day”), Song of the Flame (“Midnight Bells,” “Vodka”), La, La, Lucille (“It’s Great to Be in Love”), as well as songs that Ira Gershwin wrote the lyrics for in Molly Darling (When All Your Castles Come Tumbling Down”), Lady in the Dark (“My Ship”) and A Star is Born (“It’s a New World,” “The Man That Got Away”). The students sang without costumes, props, or choreographies. However, their voices alone captured the sassy and hopeless romantic attitudes of their characters. 

What I found most interesting is that many of these songs were suggestively scandalous yet painted with a lighthearted tone of voice and upbeat melodies. The song that particularly stood out to me was “Vodka.” The funny and punny lyrics were easy to understand while remaining hilariously descriptive of what vodka does to the human psyche and body and the negative consequences that often follow its consumption. 

After the intermission, the University Philharmonic Orchestra (UPO) took the stage under conductor Jayce Ogren to play Overture to Song of the Flame. Shockingly, it was likely the first public performance of the overture in decades, and there are no known recordings of the overture. The overture is relatively short and played for around ten minutes. Still, the characteristic dreamy quality of Gershwin’s talent at blending jazz and classical music makes it feel even shorter. 

However, what left the deepest impression on me that night was Tzu-Yin Huang’s performance of Gershwin’s Piano Concerto in F. Accompanied by the UPO, the first movement starts with a suspenseful yet jazzy rhythm from the blaring band instruments. Then, the pianist has dramatic, slow notes before suddenly accelerating in pitch and tempo before returning to a bittersweet, syncopated blues melody. The contrast between a lullful minor key to a more powerful, almost angry melody with a cascade of descending thirds evoked a bittersweet emotion before transitioning into a quick tempo; the orchestra then takes turns with the soloist in sharing the spotlight. The second movement starts similarly with a jazzy, brass solo, that the piano interrupts after a slow, somber intro. The mood immediately shifts with playful staccato notes and grace notes. In contrast to the first and second movements, the third movement begins agitated with notes that requires the fingers to have incredible control in speed and power. I loved the end of the third movement, which further expands an overall theme heard throughout all three movements before having a classic tremolo ending. 

Overall, it was an incredible experience. I’ll be striving to attend the Gershwin Centennial concert in the future, and highly recommend others attend too!

The Crown Experience: Celebrating Black Hair Culture

SAGINAW, Mich.—The Crown Act is a law that prohibits the discrimination of hairstyles in the workplace. Today, people of all ages gathered at the Saginaw Art Museum for an event inspired by the bill celebrating black hair culture through artistic expression.

Organizers provided participants with blank canvases, colorful printouts, and bundles of hair to assemble their creations.

Braids, afros, and twists of many tints and textures filled canvas boards while strangers and friends engaged in laughter and a shared cultural experience.

Event Organizer Terra Riley shares that her friend, State Senator Sarah Anthony, who introduced The Crown Act bill, played a significant role in motivating her to create The Crown Experience.

Riley also shares her personal inspiration behind the event: ” To honor the history of our black story, our black hair story. The idea of slaves braiding rice into their hair. The idea of a braid pattern actually being a map just shows me the intellect, the deep, rich deepness of our people, and so today, I just really wanted to express that.”

Participants were also invited to contribute to the community Kente cloth, which will be displayed in the museum’s office.

While Riley encourages attendees to leave a piece of their art behind, she hopes everyone takes away something even more meaningful. “My hope is that their takeaway is the beauty and richness of who and what we are,” Riley said. “Today, I’m grateful that this space did what it was supposed to do today. People came together and celebrated the beauty of black hair.”

To continue the celebration of art and diversity, the museum is open Wednesday through Saturday.

REVIEW: ‘Rinaldo’ at the Detroit Opera

February 28 | 7:30 pm | Detroit Opera House

 

 

Handel’s “baroque blockbuster” Rinaldo made a stylish return to the Detroit stage last week. This production was transplanted from the 2023 Glimmerglass festival, and unlike the Hero’s Journey that opera admirers will recall. We replace the depths of the First Crusade with a modern hospital ward nestled into the imagination of a young Rinaldo (Anthony Roth Costanzo) recovering from an unspecified brain operation. Director Louisa Proske entertains the idea of inception: Rinaldo playfully distracts himself with stories of knights and magic, distancing him from the bruting hero some remember. Decked out in sandals, a teal hospital gown, and a cape made from his basketball bedding, he’s the hero of his own story.

The curtain rises to a bleached, hopeless hospital facility. An unconscious child lays across the room from Rinaldo, who we learn to be Almirena (Elena Villalón), another recovering child and the woman of his affections. King Goffredo (Kyle Sanchez Tingzon, a silvery-smooth countertenor) doubles as the king laying siege to Jerusalem and a real-life father to the hospital-bound princess. Within Rinaldo’s dreams and Almirena’s recovery, the malevolent sorceress Armida (Nicole Heaston) captures the young maiden, and the call to save her beckons Rinaldo.

Mr. Costanzo is one of the most engaging operatic performers you’ll see today: dramatic, genuine, and ethereal. His countertenor voice glitters above the sweeping Detroit Opera Orchestra (under the baton of Roberto Kalb). Ms. Heaston similarly carries a luminescent voice and powerful presence, which warranted plenty of “Bravas” from passionate audience members. 26-year-old Villalón effortlessly delivered the heart-wrenching “Lascia ch’io pianga”, under the angelic harpsichord player John Etsell. Her youth radiated in her Almirena with apt grace and humility.

Nicole Heaston as “Armida”.

Originally, Armida carries romantic feelings for Rinaldo in Act II—it didn’t quite land in this adaptation. A frisky sorceress suddenly fawning over a young boy felt a bit awkward, though it seemed Proske hoped audiences to realize the character as a manifestation of the children’s illnesses.

Though Rinaldo’s disposition is whimsical, the undertones can feel more bleak. Ms. Proske’s adaptation presents a philosophical question about suffering children, especially in relation to the opera’s theological underbelly. Why would a loving God hurt children? With healthcare at the forefront of many Americans’ minds, a certain empathy arises naturally for our heroes, and their fanciful reality now carries more sympathy.

This adaptation was avoidant of the tacky feel some modern productions can have. Its dramatic roots remained intact while experimenting heavily, and that feat is to be celebrated within an art form over 400 years old. If the power of love resonates (much like all these fantastic voices), I think this opera can work in many new ways.

 

 

 

Images thanks to the Glimmerglass Festival and The Detroit Opera. 

REVIEW: Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto

The rising swell of the orchestra is an anticipation that never tires. The lights softly dim as the musicians come alive, humming with energy. Taking the February MainStage, Stefan Jackiw performs the much revered and demanding Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto alongside Music Director Earl Lee and the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra. 

Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra performs for the February MainStage (Photo credits to Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra)

The evening opens with Jessie Montgomery’s Overture and concludes with Dmitri Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10, choices I found were extremely effective in their respective roles. Montgomery’s Overture, I thought, was a piece marked by anticipation. The whispery, shallow sounds felt like they were moving towards something, then faded off, generating an interesting tension. Shostakovich’s piece was distinctly marked by deep, dramatic tones and a frantic energy. But for sure, my highlight of the night was hearing Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto live. While not too familiar with classical music, this was a piece I’ve listened to time and time again. Tchaikovsky’s only violin concerto is a piece full of movement– shifting from periods of softness to an enthusiastic intensity. And it always lights up my heart to hear the moment the sounds explode, culminating in a beautifully rich melody. It somehow always feels new and captivating. I found that Jackiw’s thoughts on the piece were an interesting extension of my feelings: “It’s so fun to play; it’s so fun to listen to; it has blazing virtuosity and heart-on-your-sleeve lyricism; so I think it’s going to be a real treat to bring it to Ann Arbor.” The piece really is quite fun, and even more so when I get to watch the movements of the musicians. Jackiw played with fierce intensity, only to let it dissolve into moments of near silence, his bow grazing the violin’s strings so gently as the theater dissolved into utter silence. While incomparable to the experience of sitting in the Michigan Theater, I left the performance with a renewed desire to listen to the concerto on repeat. 

Critically acclaimed violinist Stefan Jackiw performs at the Michigan Theater (Photo credits to Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra)

While not my first time attending a symphonic performance, this was my first time seeing a performance by the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra. Another notable aspect of my experience was the program pamphlets handed to every attendee. Especially as an attendee fairly unfamiliar with the classical music scene, the descriptions found in the program were especially welcome. Written by Jeremy Reynolds, there was remarkable attention given to each piece performed– from the specific instruments involved to the piece’s history to a beautiful description of the music to come. To go in with somewhat of an idea of what I’d be listening to and then to be blown away by the sound truly amplified my experience. My utmost respect is given to not only all of the performers on stage but also those off stage who make it possible for everyone to access the world of music in such an open manner.