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.

REVIEW: Whiplash

Whiplash (2014) was a difficult movie to watch. I find myself hoping that this world driven by high-level stress, intimidation, and discrimination would never exist. The cast and crew did some serious work in illustrating this level of frustration and unpredictability.

The movie features a story of a young and aspiring jazz drummer at a fictional prestigious conservatory called Shaeffer Conservatory, who interacts a private teacher that tries to make his life as a drummer extremely difficult. The two become involved in a very strange relationship tied with the desire for success and the obsession with music-making. The movie stars Miles Teller as Andrew Neyman, the drummer; and J.K. Simmons as Terence Fletcher, the terrifying teacher.

Terence Fletcher, the director of the topmost band at the prestigious Shaeffer Conservatory in New York City, is a mysterious character. We never know what he could actually be thinking. He yells a lot, but sometimes he can be affirming, too. He occasionally smiles or even shows tears, but those emotions feel fake because of horrid actions he takes to “get the most out of the musicians.” It was terrifying to see. Fletcher used multiple homophobic, sexist, racist, ageist, and demeaning comments in general to his band members, exercising power harassment. And to think the next Charlie Parker can, or has to, survive all of these oppressions to get to the top, to build thicker skins? I’m glad I’m not at Shaeffer.

This movie also shows how male-dominated the jazz world is. There were exactly two female players in the entire movie. Just two, out of dozens. One was in the lower-level jazz combo, and she messes up her solo quite more than her male counterparts when Fletcher comes to observe. Another was not given much airtime. Is this really how females are regarded? If the directors like Fletcher actually exist, there is no way female players can thrive — with no regard to their ability as a player. It’s one thing to be extremely strict and unyielding; it’s another to be discriminatory and threatening.

The terrible leadership of Fletcher is not to say the well-written plot and stellar acting should go uncredited. I felt like I was on a roller coaster all the way; I could never expect how a scene would turn out, and it was thrilling. Miles Teller acted out the agony of wanting to become the best and please Fletcher so realistically; J.K. Simmons fit into the role of stubborn and unpredictable director perfectly. Not to mention, the music they played were high quality — living up to the name of the nation’s top conservatory. The amount of cursing and violence was a little out of my taste, but I guess that’s why the movie is rated R.

In a nutshell, Whiplash is a movie worth watching — but not for everyone. The scenes can get pretty graphic with blood, violence, and verbal abuse. You don’t have to be a music student to appreciate this movie, either, because this movie is more about life than about music. If you have some free time before you feast on those Thanksgiving dinners, check it out at the State Theater.

REVIEW: UM’s Jazz Ensemble puts on a Big Swing Face

University of Michigan’s SMTD Jazz Ensemble

Rackham Auditorium

October 23, 8:00 p.m.

On Thursday, UM’s Jazz Ensemble put on their ‘Big Swing Face’ and transformed the Rackham Auditorium into a nostalgic 1940’s concert hall. The concert showcased mostly contemporary pieces of up-and-coming big band composers, such as Christine Jensen and Alan Ferber, but paid homage to classic favorites like Duke Ellington and Leonard Bernstein.

I was disappointed that of the 22 musicians in the ensemble, zero of them were girls, especially considering that it is not an “all-boys only” group. Nevertheless, the musicians gave an outstanding performance. Each soloist perfectly intertwined their own creativity and soul with the common themes and emotions of each piece, and passed the improv torch between each other effortlessly. Even when there wasn’t a solo, the collective group played with a very colorful energy. The ensemble jumped right into the swing of things with Bill Potts’ “Big Swing Face,” a piece that showed off the ensemble’s brilliant talent from the first measure. Music Director Ellen Rowe had so much trust in her group that she stepped to the side and let the group take full command of the audience.

A highlight of the performance was the Duke Ellington piece, “Day Dream,” which truly painted a picture of love-filled haze in my mind. The ensemble accompanied U of M student Lauren Scales, whose vocal range and singing talents are off the charts! I could close my eyes and pretend that I was in a smoky bar with Ella and Billie serenading me until dusk.

Overall, the concert was fantastic, but that should be expected from the top Jazz Ensemble on campus! Mostly, the audience was made up of parents and other relatives of the musicians. The pep and nostalgic atmosphere is a must for students who have ever suffered from “Midnight in Paris” syndrome and wish that they could time-travel to an earlier decade, and perfect for a free escape from the campus world.  I definitely recommend staying up to date on when their next concert is! You’ll be jumpin’ and jivin’ all night.

PREVIEW: Jazz Ensemble (UM’s School of Music)

Image via ilovewb.com

After a long week of midterms and cold, not quite Fall/not quite Winter weather, come enjoy a big band jam session by the top Jazz Ensemble in U of M’s School of Music! Your feet will dance as you sit in your seat. Your mind will be free to imagine life in many colors and tunes and sounds you didn’t even know instruments could make!

What: UM’s Jazz Ensemble concert

When: Thursday, October 23 at 8:00 pm

Where: Rackham Auditorium

How Much?: Free!

Jump and jive to contemporary big band pieces by Ellen Rowe, Fred Sturm, Paul Ferguson, John Clayton, and Benny Golson. Unfamiliar with these names? That’s okay! Since when is expanding your taste in music ever a bad thing?

And while you wait for Thursday night, listen to the Jazz Ensemble’s phenomenal performance of Charles Mingus’ “Moanin'” from last year!