Tag: Music

REVIEW: Master’s Recital–Jordan Smith On Flute

Emma Pinchak Leave a comment

It’s amazing the little worlds we discover throughout the course of this life. I’d never thought that the flute could stand so tall as a solo instrument, instead of a part of an orchestra or a marching band. But its soaring, cascading voice held a truth deeper than I had thought was possible.

The flute is far more nuanced than it seems in a sweaty middle school gym while performing with the school band. Far from being the out-of-tune, squeaky instrument students and their parents grew to hate, Jordan Smith’s recital was moving. He pushed past the limits of the sound barrier like it was nothing, pulling out sweet music from only the air.

But the performance was not your standard recital; though it began with Mozart (whose brilliance at age eight makes me incredibly jealous), it dove into the contemporary, first paired with the standard piano, then percussion (drum, clapping, sticks), then a wondrous video of life emerging from a fallen tree. Smith brings life and youth to what is more commonly the property of old folks ancient enough to have known Mozart personally.

If I had to say anything negative about his performance, it would be the occasional loudness of his breaths in between long musical phrases. This is understandable given the air required to play these passages, though I must admit the sound did distract from the melody quite significantly.

There were a few things out of his control that were less than desirable. The first was a technical difficulty that mangled the audio of the video that was projected behind Smith as he played (though his show-must-go-on attitude and beautiful timing still allowed the video to play a part in the performance). Secondly, all of the selections that incorporated percussion repeated the same tune of a few beats over and over. A livelier, more varied beat could have worked well with the flute’s melody.

I assume Jordan Smith started playing quite young, by middle school at least. Seeing him perform at the level he does now, it is almost impossible to imagine his own off-key first foray into the band geek world, torturing his parents with hours of painfully bad practicing in his bedroom, obligating them to attend all of the soul-crushing school performances.

For most of us, the end of the flute road comes with middle or high school graduation–most of us don’t have the dedication it takes to develop talent like Smith has. For most of us, quitting the instrument was the highlight of our musical careers. Thank god Jordan Smith is not like most of us.

 

REVIEW: U-M Chamber Jazz Recital

Emma Pinchak Leave a comment

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

Emma Pinchak Leave a comment

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 Rocky Horror Picture Show

Mary O'Byrne Leave a comment

“I wish to lose all morals, and accept decadence into my heart.”

The night starts off with crowds of people in sparkles and lingerie and all black  piled up outside of the Michigan Theater, eager to begin their Rocky Horror experience. An experience that is varied and cannot be restricted by just one adjective. An experience that is energetic, erotic, campy, and…. scientific?

With an introduction from a moth, who welcomes all of the groups who are out – the straights, the gays, the sorrorities – the crowd is riled up before the film has started. Prohibited items include: ice, confetti, water guns, candles or lighters, whole rolls of toilet paper, hot dogs, and prunes. But the moth pointed out that squares of toilet paper, or streamers, or 3/4 of a roll of toilet paper, are allowed. It is only the Leather Medusa’s second year putting on a shadow cast show of RHPS at the theater, but they’re sold out.

I stand for my virgin pledge, with about half of the audience who are marked with red lipstick Vs. Surprisingly, such a prominent cult classic still remains unseen by many. Not so surprisingly, the Rocky Horror virgins of the world are curious about the film and its culture, intrigued by its ostentatious reputation and loyal followers. And tonight, our curiosity is to be fulfilled. Soon everyone stands together, for the Rocky Horror pledge and with much anti… cipation – the show begins.

Newly engaged Brad and Janet get stuck in the rain, and wander into Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s castle, where they have a long night ahead of them. The shadow cast saunters around the stage, their costumes and movements perfectly matching those of the film’s characters. The audience yells “ASSHOLE!” at Brad, “SLUT!” at Janet, “WHERE’S YOUR NECK?” at the criminologist, and a variety of other more specific, seemingly-scripted, comments. The film can barely be heard. This culture is not exactly for the prude or sensitive – although they are the ones that the culture loves to deflower the most. Similarly to the audience culture around Tommy Wiseau’s ‘The Room’, some describe this movie-going experience as wildly inconsiderate and vulgar. But the lines of accepted norms are blurred in the midst of such a cult classic, one that drew counterculture crowds as a midnight movie at its release and still draws those audiences (or those who shapeshift into such for a night) today.

Attempting to watch the film over the yelling of the crowd, I do my best to stay in-tune while actively participating. But the participation doesn’t take away from the film’s grandeur. The unusual set, defined characters, theatrical costumes and makeup, peculiar sci-fi characteristics, lively songs and dances, canted angles, effective use of various lenses, irony, and sexual notions, are enough to interest audiences even when they are unclear of the plot (which is somewhat unclear, anyway.) I’m sure all of the other virgins sometimes sat just as confused as me, but also pleasantly entertained.

Seeing Rocky Horror is a uniting experience: the audience, together, are just as important as the film. Dancing the time warp, throwing cards and pieces of toast, everyone is in tune with one another. Even the virgins. We catch on. If all goes as planned by the Transylvanians, by the end of the film you’re going to want to dance and yell and touch everyone and be covered in sequins and dramatic makeup.

REVIEW: MATANGI/MAYA/M.I.A. Documentary

Emma Pinchak

As I walked into the gleaming dark of the Michigan Theater’s screening room, I wasn’t sure what I should expect from this documentary. Most “behind the scenes” films of celebrities are tinted with a shade of superficiality–the video of their charity cases feels a bit staged, smiles just a little too brilliant next to the filth of whatever third-world country their agent told them to grace.

I won’t lie to you, dear reader; this documentary was not completely innocent of these offences. M.I.A. had definitely seemed to have lost touch of the way of life in her of native Sri Lanka after her rise to fame in the mid-2000s. This causes some of her actions to feel false. Yet old video from an earlier visit back home, just a few years before she made it big, told a different story. Rather than seeming like a tourist, she was back to belonging, and what was able to shock her–police barging into houses at all hours of the night, for example–genuinely resonated with her. She related to people there, spoke Tamil with them, shared food and stories. Sri Lanka was still, and is still, inside of her.

M.I.A.’s origin story can be told succinctly, despite its far-reaching repercussions. After fleeing the civil unrest and violence of Sri Lanki with her mother and siblings at the age of 10, she grew up without her Tamil Resistance-leading father.

But that is not where her story began. Even as a young child, she dreamed of becoming a documentary film maker–her own video comprises much of the documentary. Music has always been a passion as well: she’s shown dancing wildly as a kid in Sri Lanka and later as an adult in a recording studio. The film went on to tell of her rapidly increasing fame, and her growth along the way. Not being the most confident person in the world myself, I gather a lot of inspiration from the ultimate Cool Girl that is M.I.A. Her funky, brightly-colored style is present in not only her clothes and music but also her vibrant speech, her fierce projection of her beliefs.

My only real critique of this piece is how little it focused on the censorship she’s faced in her career. There were a few points made about the reactions to one of her music videos, jounalists dismissing her thoughts on the turbulance in Sri Lanka, and that one time she flipped the camera off at the Superbowl. In light of her recent announcement she’s taking a break from the music industry due to her frustration about censorship, there should have been a little more attention given to this.

This film provided a good look into a strange paradox: with fame comes a microphone with sound to reach the ears of everyone. Yet the role our society gives to celebrities is only to entertain; we discount their need to be advocates for something in the larger world. Maybe one day we’ll give them a chance and start listening.

PREVIEW: MANTANGI/MAYA/M.I.A. documentary

Emma Pinchak Leave a comment

A documentary following the life of Justin Bieber is nothing special.

His story has always been quite public: born into a humble Canadian family, discovered on YouTube, instantly rising to stardom atop such teeny-bopper hits as “Baby” and “My World.”

However, M.I.A. has a little more substance than the average Hollywood Hunk. The daughter of a Tamil activist and revoluntionary, her music reflects growing up during political turmoil. And perhaps we will learn more about the difficulty she’s had with censorship of her work, and her recent announcement that she’ll be taking an extended break from the industry.

Join me at the Michigan Theater to see the mystery unfold with your own eyes.

Showtimes include:

Thursday, 10/18: 7:15 pm in the auditorium or 9:45 pm in the screening room

Thursday, 10/25: 12:00 pm in the auditorium