Tag: Ann Arbor

REVIEW: Berliner Philharmoniker

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Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

After delivering a phenomenal concert on November 23, the Berliner Philharmoniker returned the next afternoon for one final, brilliant performance featuring the Bruckner Symphony No. 5 in B-Flat Major. In contrast to the dreamy ambiance of the previous program, on November 24, the Bruckner Symphony highlighted another dimension of the artistry of the Berliner Philharmoniker: their impeccable technique and coordination.

All genres of music use Major and/or minor keys. Music written in a Major key tends to be upbeat and joyful, making the Bruckner Fifth Symphony more solemn than I expected. Unlike his other symphonies, the first movement began with a slow, peaceful introduction. It featured pizzicato—the plucking of strings—from the basses before turning into sudden, powerful chords from the whole ensemble. This exchange of conflicting textures and dynamics continued until the end, developing a complexity that was initially difficult to grasp. Bruckner was often inspired to compose by his strong religious faith, a possible explanation to why I found it challenging to digest because I am neither religious nor familiar with cathedral music.

Because of the next movement, however, I gained a better understanding of the piece. Building upon the thematic and artistic foundation set by the first movement, the slower adagio tempo of the second allowed me to engage more with the music. The pizzicato passages, which demand impeccable synchronization between each musician, added a light and fun texture that peeked out of the rest of the ensemble. Meanwhile, the quick and repetitive sixteenth notes from the violins added a ticklish quality. They played at the perfect volume to support the winds and decorate their melodic lines. The wind and string parts twirled together toward the climax, which was my favorite part of the second movement when the brass blared the repeating theme while the strings played ascending scales. 

The third movement introduced a faster, more energetic tempo, continuing the symphony’s dance-like quality. This lively beat carried into the finale, where everything came together. The finale brought back themes from the first movement. Other phrases developed over the second and third movements felt much more tangible before intertwining with a new motif. With every musician pouring their heart and soul into their part, the interweaving melodies, harmonies, and textures built up to a triumphant conclusion. The ending embodied the brightness of the Major key, creating a lasting impression.

It was hard to imagine how the Berliner Philharmoniker could match the previous night’s performance, yet they succeeded by showcasing a completely different facet of their skills. What sets the Berliner Philharmoniker apart is their ability to convey a message to the listener, whether it’s the composer’s vision, the conductor’s interpretation, or something unique to the audience. Their playing forms a narrative, making the music feel alive, and I can’t wait for the chance to see them perform again in the future. After experiencing this weekend of concerts, I’ve realized that classical music is something that must be lived and breathed in person to fully appreciate its beauty. It was an honor to witness one of the world’s leading orchestras in their 12th and 13th appearances at Hill Auditorium.



REVIEW: Berliner Philharmoniker with Benjamin Beilman, Violin

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Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

On November 23, Hill Auditorium was brimming with excited classical music lovers, and even President Santa Ono was in the audience. It was finally the night of the much-anticipated concert that had sold out months in advance. Under the baton of Kirill Petrenko, the Berlin Philharmoniker, alongside soloist Benjamin Beilman, delivered a masterful performance of Rachmaninoff’s The Isle of the Dead, Korngold’s Violin Concerto in D Major, and Dvořák’s Seventh Symphony.

Rachmaninoff’s The Isle of the Dead is a symphonic poem inspired by Arnold Böcklin’s painting Die Toteninsel. Böcklin intended his painting to evoke dreams, a quality that Rachmaninoff’s composition certainly achieved. The orchestra’s interpretation captured the audience’s attention with its heavy emotion and power. The dynamics ringing throughout the auditorium felt like crashing waves, while the layered harmonies added a sense of delicate chaos. However, when I looked up the painting, I found that the energetic, determined melodies of The Isle of the Dead largely clashed with the somber mood and muted colors of Böcklin’s work. Later, I discovered that Rachmaninoff had been inspired by a black-and-white reproduction of the painting, which allowed him greater creative freedom.

Next was Korngold’s Violin Concerto in D Major, my favorite—and I dare to assume, many people’s favorite—part of the night. Fascinatingly, Benjamin Beilman grew up in Ann Arbor and attended Community High School. He won first place at the Montreal International Music Competition in 2010, received the Avery Fisher Career Grant in 2012, has played with many major orchestras worldwide, and is one of the youngest artists ever appointed to the faculty of the Curtis Institute of Music. 

When I attend concerts, I often find myself amazed by a soloist’s technique, but this time I was in awe of how much fun Beilman made playing the violin look. Rather than feeling like a performance on stage, it felt like watching a film with headphones on—which makes sense, considering Korngold was an extremely successful opera composer who also played a major role in shaping early movie scores. At times, the softer passages in the music painted serene fields of flowers; at others, Beilman’s tone felt tangible, as if I were sipping rich, melted chocolate. 

 

 

The second movement, “Romanze,” was particularly moving. The opening, with its gentle and tender chords from the winds in the background complemented by the dreamy violin melody, perfectly captured the sound of falling in love—exciting and mesmerizing. Meanwhile, the closing melody, built from odd intervals, reflected the more complex side of love—confusing yet irresistibly tantalizing. 

The final piece, Dvořák’s Symphony No. 7, brought me back to Earth with its tumultuous and unexpected notes. The themes in this symphony didn’t paint vivid landscapes like those in The Isle of the Dead, but each phrase unfolded as if it were a page in a storybook. It was a piece that required a commanding and charismatic conductor to maintain its passionate energy—keeping it controlled yet never subdued—and to harness its power to blend the unexpected turns in the music into lyrical phrases. The third movement, “Scherzo,” was vivacious, its rhythm inspired by the Czech folk dance furiant.

By the end of the night, the Berliner Philharmoniker had established itself as my favorite orchestra. After delivering an enchanting, surreal, and healing performance that would convert even the worst classical music skeptic, the audience went wild—I can’t remember the last time I heard more wholehearted applause. Not to be overdramatic, but Benjamin Beilman’s performance of the Korngold Violin Concerto reminded me of how important classical music is to humanity. Combined with the Berliner Philharmoniker’s mastery, It was a night I will never forget, and I felt extremely lucky to have that experience.

REVIEW: John Proctor Is the Villain

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Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

On the night of November 21st, my friend and I walked out of the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre in a passionate discussion about the SMTD performance of John Proctor Is the Villain, a comedy-drama written by Kimberly Belflower. Going in, I was intrigued by the play’s premise and curious about how it would intertwine the themes of The Crucible—a play written by U-M grad Arthur Miller—with contemporary issues.

John Proctor Is the Villain takes place at Helen County High, the only high school in a small town in Georgia. Set in 2018, when the #MeToo movement on social media gained attention, the story follows a group of high school juniors during their spring semester (coincidentally, I was also a junior in high school then). Most scenes occur in the classroom of Carter Smith, a young, charismatic, and popular teacher. Although Mr. Smith’s class is small, his students embody the archetypes of nerdy, sporty, chic, and emo characters you would expect to find in a larger high school. As Mr. Smith and his students read The Crucible, they begin to discuss John Proctor, who, despite being an adulterer, enjoys a good reputation and is praised as a hero. At the same time, a group of girls formed a club to explore what feminism exactly means and how to be a feminist. 

Though it starts lightheartedly, this production dives headfirst into heavy themes, including racist and sexist language, depictions of violence, and abusive relationships. At its core, the play is a commentary on sexual assault, highlighting how it remains a pervasive issue that is too often dismissed or ignored. As the plot thickens, the shifting dynamics reveal the profound disparities and emotional toll that sexual assault takes on both victims and those connected to them. The play explores a range of complex emotions—confusion, disbelief, embarrassment, anger, sadness, and more—all of which feel raw and deeply human. As I watched from the audience, the character development prompted me to reflect on my past relationships, experiences, and vulnerabilities.

The actors’ accurate portrayals of these complexities made the performance even more impactful and thought-provoking. Their depiction of messy teenage friendships—fraught with reluctance and miscommunication—felt incredibly realistic. Through desperate and hesitant tones in their voices and insecure body language, they authentically captured the essence of adolescence. Student actor Hugh Finnigan embodied Mr. Smith’s charismatic persona so convincingly that, from the beginning, I gravitated toward his character. His confidence and mannerisms fondly reminded me of my favorite high school teachers.

The production’s minimal set design—consisting solely of school desks and a blackboard—underscored the idea that no environment, no matter how safe or familiar it seems, is immune to the threat of sexual assault and harassment. The costumes and makeup reflected each character’s stereotypical personality, but by the end of the play, teach us not to judge a book by its cover. Finally, the dance-break transitions between scenes became a powerful visual metaphor for resilience, symbolizing the characters’ capacity to reclaim power and persevere.

John Proctor Is the Villain delivered a surreal and eye-opening experience, culminating in an ending that felt chilling, uplifting, shocking, and awe-inspiring all at once. Moments that initially seemed surface-level gained significant weight as the characters displayed profound growth and emotional depth. By analyzing their behavior, reactions, and capacity for trust, the play sheds light on how people navigate societal pressures and personal challenges.

As my friend and I left the theatre, we found ourselves discussing how societal norms shape the assumptions we make about people in our everyday lives and how dangerous these assumptions can be in perpetuating harmful power structures. This production left an indelible impression, and I would highly recommend it to anyone seeking a thoughtful and emotionally resonant theatrical experience.



REVIEW: Hänsel und Gretel

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Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

From November 14th – 17th, students from SMTD’s Department of Voice & Opera presented Hänsel und Gretel, a whimsical and comical opera inspired by the Brothers Grimm fairy tale. On opening night, I walked in expecting a darker, more traditional retelling. Having recently read the original story for my English class, the haunting imagery and fast-paced plot were fresh in my mind. What I witnessed instead was a playful and modern reinterpretation that completely reimagined the tale I thought I knew. 

The opera began with Hansel and Gretel doing chores at home while horsing around. At this point, there was no dialogue; instead, the introduction was driven entirely by the music, with decorative trills and glissandos setting the tone. This lack of narration effectively established the scene, suggesting their actions were simply part of their daily routine. What stood out to me was the siblings’ dynamic, which differed from the original story. In this version, Gretel had more depth and independence. For instance, she had some attitude, and the two siblings squabbled early on. By the end, their tumultuous relationship evolved into a partnership where they worked together to overcome their struggles, making their character arcs feel more rewarding.

I was truly amazed by the quality of the music, particularly Hansel and Gretel’s vocals. Their voices projected clearly, and their vibrato and dynamics added a compelling layer to the storytelling. The pit orchestra, which was noticeably larger than those in musicals I’ve seen, played a pivotal role. Their synchronization with the actors heightened the emotional impact of the scenes, particularly in the introduction, and their technical consistency throughout the two-hour performance was impressive. 

The set designs were among my favorite aspects of the production, particularly in Act II and Act III, when the visuals became increasingly surreal. The TVs hanging around the stage were a quirky and creative touch that enhanced the eerie atmosphere of the woods and the chaotic energy of the Witch’s house. By displaying images like green mist and blinding lights, they played a crucial role in establishing the mood of each scene. The Witch’s house, made entirely of brightly branded cereal boxes, was both unexpected and amusing, providing a modern twist on the traditional gingerbread aesthetic.

 

 

The Witch was undoubtedly my favorite character. From the moment she appeared on stage, I was completely captivated by her eccentric and flamboyant costume. It was a riot of bright colors and peculiar accessories—such as eating utensils—and cleverly mirrored her chaotic personality and desire to consume the children. Her absurd and unpredictable presence made her scenes incredibly fun to watch, and I found myself smiling throughout. The audience shared my feelings, as frequent laughter echoed during her antics. 

 

 

Overall, this was an enjoyable performance. The chaotic and playful nature of the plot kept me engaged, especially when the production deviated from the original tale in surprising ways. The opera felt like a magical adventure that breathed new life into a familiar fairy tale. However, since the entire performance was sung in German, I often had to look away from the stage to read the subtitles, which detracted slightly from my experience but didn’t overshadow the production’s many strengths. I highly recommend this production to anyone who enjoys fairy tales and is open to seeing them reimagined in unexpected and creative ways.

REVIEW: The Music of John Williams

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On Saturday, October 19, I attended the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra (A2SO) concert celebrating the music of John Williams. As expected, given the popularity of one of cinema’s greatest composers, the line at the Michigan Theatre was incredible—possibly the longest I’ve ever seen for an A2SO concert. The crowd was notably diverse, with attendees of all ages, and I even recognized friends who don’t typically attend orchestra performances.

Under the baton of guest conductor Damon Gupton, the program showcased some of John Williams’ most famous works. The first half, in program order, included “Superman March” from Superman, “The Shark Theme” from Jaws, the main themes from Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List, “Devil’s Dance” from The Witches of Eastwick, “Love Theme” from Superman, and the “Throne Room & End Title” from Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope.

I loved seeing some musicians—and even some instruments—in costume on stage. Paired with the quick beat and lively brass in “Superman March,” it set high expectations from the start that this would be a fun and exciting concert. Damon Gupton’s theatrical side shone through as he conducted the iconic, suspenseful opening measures of “The Shark Theme.” With each new phrase in the music, he would glance apprehensively behind him, as if watching out for danger lurking—an amusing touch that drew laughter and reflected his background as an actor. 

The order in which the repertoire was performed made me feel as though I were watching a movie, with each piece shifting the tone and taking me in a new direction. After Jaws, the uplifting main theme from Jurassic Park brought excitement, followed by the somber theme from Schindler’s List, which featured a sorrowful violin solo by the concertmaster. “Devil’s Dance” then introduced a thrilling energy that transitioned seamlessly into the sweet melody of “Love Theme,” before the first half concluded with the universally recognizable soundtrack from Star Wars.

The orchestra also performed the Olympic Fanfare and Theme, “Harry’s Wondrous World” from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, “Hymn to the Fallen” from Saving Private Ryan, “March” from 1941, “With Malice Toward None” from Lincoln, and finished the evening with “Adventures on Earth” from E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. 

Since I haven’t seen the films Olympic Fanfare and Theme, “March,” and “With Malice Toward None” come from, I had never heard them before. This allowed me to fully absorb the emotions conveyed by the music, without the influence of imagery associated with the movies. The catchy rhythms and bright trumpets in Olympic Fanfare and Theme and “March” made it easy to visualize social festivities. Meanwhile, the strings in “With Malice Toward None” evoked a strong bittersweet feeling. 

On the other hand, I’ve already heard “Harry’s Wondrous World,” “Hymn to the Fallen,” and “Adventures on Earth” performed live by the Michigan Pops Orchestra (MPO), who also played the same versions of “The Shark Theme,” themes from Jurassic Park, and Star Wars from the first half of the concert. It was interesting to compare how the A2SO and MPO interpreted these musical scores. The MPO has a much larger string section, which allowed their strings to stand out more, while the winds shined more in the A2SO. Though each had a different dynamic, this experience only deepened my admiration for our school’s student orchestras, as I didn’t find them lacking in musical quality compared to a professional ensemble.

Overall, with its diverse selection of pieces, the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra’s performance felt like watching a film without the visuals, beautifully celebrating the genius of John Williams.

Pictures are provided by A2SO

REVIEW: London Philharmonic

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Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

On October 18th, the London Philharmonic returned to Hill Auditorium after 13 years. The concert was especially thrilling for me, as it was my first time experiencing the London Philharmonic live. The repertoire, performed in order, included Britten’s Sinfonia de Requiem, Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto No. 1 in a minor, Tania León’s Raíces (Origins), and Sibelius’s Symphony No. 5 in E-flat Major.

I found it unusual that they chose to open with a requiem, given the somber, darker tones typically associated with such works. Yet Britten’s piece turned out to be grand in its own right, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed listening to it. The quality of the music drew me in immediately, largely due to Edward Gardner’s conducting—I found my eyes fixed on him from the very beginning.

I consider the conductor to be the heart of an ensemble: the musicians move and breathe to the beat of the baton, and the phrasing of each lyrical line relies on the tiniest of gestures. A captivating conductor is vital to the quality of an orchestra’s performance, and Gardner’s skills truly shone, especially when every instrument joined in a musical passage. The contrasting dynamics filled the auditorium with a depth of sound that made me feel one with the Sinfonia de Requiem, despite being in the audience. 

Although I had never heard Shostakovich’s first violin concerto before, the eerie dissonant intervals and unsettling lack of vibrato in the opening unmistakably evoked his distinctive melancholic style. Once the second movement began, the intensity of the piece immediately shifted my attention to violin soloist Patricia Kopatchinskaja. The clean harmonics and intonation of her double stops were breathtaking. Furthermore, she preserved Shostakovich’s voice by weaving between the lack of vibrato characteristic of the first movement and the vibrato that expressed her own musicality.

London Philharmonic Orchestra performing with Edward Gardner and Patricia Kopatchinskaja in Hill Auditorium, October 18, 2024.

Like the preceding pieces, the introduction of Raíces was quieter and calm. What made it stand out from the rest of the program was the lively beat that picked up in the latter half; in this section, the woodwinds and brass melodies particularly shone, establishing themselves as the main characters of the piece.

Sibelius’s fifth symphony continued the trend of opening with a peaceful first movement, which made me hopeful for a triumphant ending to conclude the night. Instead of achieving an impactful ending by increasing the tempo, the last movement made its mark through the layering of instruments. The full volume of the brass rang beautifully through the hall, yet I could still hear the violins complimenting them with a gorgeous melody rich in luscious notes. The concluding measures were also unexpected; rather than maintaining that full sound, they transitioned into a series of single note chords played by the whole orchestra.

However, I must confess that for me the highlight of the concert was actually the encore: Variation IX, Adagio “Nimrod,” from Edward Elgar’s Enigma Variations. It was another calm piece, but rather than a somber sound, it featured sweet tones and a yearning melody that lingered with me long after the performance. It provided a perfect change of pace accompanied by a bittersweet emotion that proved to be more memorable than a loud and exciting ending.