PREVIEW: Lisa Hilton

Hailing from the coast of central California, critically acclaimed jazz pianist and composer, Lisa Hilton, is a performer whose work has transcended among the sounds of various genres and time periods in history. Her work consists of both modern and classical flavors and her ability ranges from orchestral melodies to the vibrant sounds of jazz. Having completed an art degree in college, she describes her work as compositions painted by harmonies and sculpted by textural and rhythmic elements. Hilton has worked with many notable composers and musicians, including George Gershwin and Horace Silver, who all have influenced the emotion and the energy apparent in her pieces.

This Saturday, she will be taking the stage at the Kerrytown Concert House performing songs from her newest album, OASIS, and more. I am beyond excited to attend this performance because I will be able to experience someone perform music of their own that could resemble compositions performed by other high-caliber musicians and orchestras.

As a note, this event is available to all students for no cost through the Passport to the Arts offered by the Arts at Michigan program from the University of Michigan. Without further ado, I hope to see you there!

REVIEW: U-M Chamber Jazz Recital

Never before had I considered the mandolin or banjo to have a place in the jazz world. And I certainly did not expect to experience a solo of either of these instruments in any context outside of a renaissance festival or a square dance competition, respectively.

Boy, was I wrong.

The performance was split into three sets, each a different student group exploring a wildly different facet of the music genre.

The first erred on the side of folk, incorporating a sound more twangy than I’d have expected from jazz musicians. But the smoothness of the violin’s bow sliding across the strings and the low voice of the cello lurking under the melody rounded out the tunes they played, making the sound much more complex and multi-dimensional. And, I must stress, Noah Fishman on mandolin and Matt Davis on banjo went hard.

The next group played in the classic big-band style of jazz, bursting into the music the second they began with grand flourishes of slurred crescendos and bright moments of staccatoed frenzy. It was hard seeing the relatedness of the first and second groups, even though they were a part of the same genre, and shared a few of the same instruments. But rather than this near-dichotomy being a distraction, it worked as a testament to jazz’s dynamicity. It was disappointing to me, as a piano player, that the pianist Kaysen Chown was barely audible amidst the brash bass tones, as the higher pitch and lightness of the instrument would have complimented the music greatly.

The last group to play featured a jazz of the sultry kind; the high call of the saxophones (Peter Goggin on alto and William Wood on tenor) was almost erotic. The songs were rambling and suave, able to warm the mind and body simultaneously. I could find myself in some underground jazz club, surrounded by the coolest cats around, dressed in all black, perhaps sporting a beret.

When I walked out of the auditorium, I still felt warm, even despite the biting wind of the mid-November night. Maybe it was the well-heated building, but more likely it was an effect of the music. I strode back to my dorm with a strange new confidence derived from the sheer sophistication of the evening. This lasted nearly the whole walk home, ending abruptly as I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk (a testament to the exclusiveness of the genre, maybe; one can fall out of its favor with a single uncool move).

All in all, a good night, thanks to this group of talented SMTD students!

PREVIEW: U-M Chamber Jazz Ensemble

Jazz illicits an image of a smoky nightclub populated by a gaggle of elderly men in old-fashioned hats; the youth it used to enthral have aged, and have not been replaced by a new generation…or have they? The genre is in a strange place these days–it is somehow both the music of our grandparents and our own; its roots are deep and widespread and fully entangled in the rhythm and blues of both our Ella Fitzgeralds and our Daniel Caesars.

Come listen to the fusion of new and old 8 PM on Monday, November 19 in Stamps Auditorium at the Walgreen Drama Center. Michigan students will be performing both classic jazz hits as well as some of their own creations. There are no tickets, so make sure to come early to guarantee a seat!

 

REVIEW: The Milk Carton Kids

I thought when I went to The Ark for Tuesday’s Milk Carton Kids show that I was getting a low-key acoustic show. I got that, but also so much more. At times funny, ridiculous, and bittersweet, The Milk Carton Kids and their opener Sammy Miller and the Congregation defied description in a concert I won’t be forgetting any time soon.

The name Sammy Miller and the Congregation sounds like a throwback to the Jazz Age, but theirs wasn’t a traditional jazz show. In fact, they told us, they were banned from the genre of jazz for reasons that were implied to be related to their production of a “jopera:” a jazz opera that eschewed any genre. The band incorporated theatrical elements, humor, and even a little pop music into their set. Their jopera was weird and wonderful, incorporating costumes, singing, and even a nonsensical storyline (an essential part of any opera). They engaged the audience, sometimes leaving stage and returning via the seats, as actors often do. I’m still not sure how to describe what I saw, but I know I was entertained.

The Milk Carton Kids, a duo consisting of Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan, couldn’t have been more different in style and substance from their opener. Their sole instruments were two acoustic guitars. They wore suits and stood around one mic while they performed a set of mostly melancholy folk songs. But they, too, injected a surprising amount of humor into their set in their pre-song introductions.

At the beginning of the set, for instance, Kenneth confessed that he was watching the World Series on a device hidden in his bag (I don’t blame him). That joke recurred throughout, and there were times when Joey would start introducing a song and Kenneth would stand at the back of the stage, tuning his guitar and clearly peering into his bag. The whole audience was laughing at their intros, which were at turns funny, awkward, and self-effacing. It was an odd juxtaposition; it was almost as if they were performing a comedy show in between their folk concert.

The music itself was entertaining for very different reasons. I was impressed by the band’s harmonies, particularly on their slower songs. The intimate setup of The Ark and the songs’ sparse arrangements really brought out those harmonies. One song I particularly enjoyed was “I Only See the Moon,” a song from their upcoming album. Their penultimate song “Michigan” was also a highlight. Luckily, they were lying when they sang “Michigan’s in the rearview mirror” and came out for an encore.

I also enjoyed listening to the lyrics of the songs they played. Many were about traditional topics of contemporary folk, such as melancholy memories and places of the past, but others were political or even happy and upbeat. I allowed myself to sit back and get lost in the imagery of the lyrics, something that’s not possible at other types of concerts.

Though the Milk Carton Kids aren’t the kind of band I regularly listen to, and their concert wasn’t the kind of concert I usually attend, I was glad I went. The music was beautiful and the spoken interludes were entertaining. I’d never seen anything like this concert before, and I have a feeling I won’t ever again. But I’ll remember every bit: the humor and the harmonies, the beautiful and the weird.

REVIEW: Amir ElSaffar’s Rivers of Sound Orchestra

Pretty UMS promotional picture
My view of the orchestra

I came into the auditorium not knowing what to expect. I was excited to watch the show but that was probably because I had never seen an orchestra play live before and I wanted to see what all the hype was about.

At the end of the show, I was definitely hooked. I’m not going to pretend to know how to describe ElSaffar’s musical genius using technical jargon, so instead I’m going to dump this perfectly phrased quote from the UMS performance booklet here.

“The highest ideal in maqam music is to reach a state of tarab, or “musical ecstasy,” which results from the melting away of borders between a notion of self and other, as performers and audience revel together in the music.”

These words are no exaggeration. I SWAM in musical ecstasy. Whatever physical barrier stood between me and the music was washed away by their compositions. Not only was I bopping my head and swishing my body to the music’s rhythm, my body would also act up to the music’s dynamics. Whenever the performance built up a crescendo or when all the performers started to madly improv, my throat would clench, my heartbeat would quicken, and my back would go rigid. I only realized these effects after the performers slowed down, when I started to be aware of my surroundings again. (And the midterm I needed to study for fast.)

In that auditorium, I lost my sense of form: I became a serpent lulled by 17 snake charmers; a marionette pulled by tendrils of tangled rhythms; a grain of sand carried by a roaring river of sound.

Random highlights of the show and some of their recordings:

Jason Adasiewicz playing the vibraphone (like watching the Mad Hatter play the vibraphone)

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Rajna Swaminathan and her mridangam (Whiplash vibes)

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Amir ElSaffar’s trumpet solos (I now see trumpets in a totally different light)

(I forgot to record this part)

Orchestrated madness

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REVIEW: Spectra: Voicing Our Experience A Night of Spoken Art & Music

Walking into the museum space, the former white, marble-esque floor was covered by carpets, pillows, and tea lights’ electronic flicker. It looks like it could be the second floor of your favorite local-coffee-shop-poetry-reading, if they too were surrounded by renowned works of art. Often, UMMA’s space can appear a bit aloof, a bit austere and refined, but for this night it was transformed into a warmer, more intimate atmosphere. People mingled in, munching away on their biscotti and hot chocolate (again, your local coffee-shop-vibes), and ArtsX opened with emphasizing the importance of sharing our experiences through the various forms of art. I loved that all the different forms of art and expression flowed together, as if they were created with the intention to work in succession. With the spoken word and poetry pieces, voices and words filled the space. Perhaps it is a bit contrived, but I liked to imagine that these intangible words, pieces of art themselves, hung in the art alongside the paintings, student contributions adding to a recording of human experience.

The first few pieces, a musical duo that may have changed my mind towards jazz music and spoken word poetry that painted a picture of the museums of the future looking make on today’s society’s mistakes, served to set the tone of students sharing their experiences and voices for other students. One of my favorite pieces of the night, an unexpected form amongst the more customary fields of song and poetry, was the work of Sarah Baruch titled Here I Am, How Did I Get Here and Where am I Going?. Chronicling her path from high school to the present, through undergrad and med school, she wove what is a common story for anyone traveling through university in a way that felt like an engaging conversation with a friend over coffee. It was saturated in her own voice and humour and caused me to think and contemplate over the inevitable moment I am standing in a similar position.

The performance was longer than most at UMMA, though that is likely just the nature of the number of performers. I never felt as though it became too long or repetitive; the constant changing and difference in performance styles kept each work feeling new and exciting. Some people chose to stay for a piece or two while others were there for the entirety; it was very much a “come as you are, go as you please” feel. If you get the opportunity to attend any performances at UMMA, I would highly recommend it on the space alone. ArtsX UMMA’s Spectra proved to stand out by its casual and inclusive nature, and I’m up for hearing other’s stories genuinely poured out anytime.