Review: The Music of Studio Ghibli

Photos are provided by the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra

On Saturday, March 15, and Sunday, March 16, the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra gave their highly anticipated performance of The Music of Studio Ghibli under guest conductor Wilburn Lin at the Michigan Theater. The program consisted of music all composed by Joe Hisaishi, including the Symphony Variation: Merry-Go-Round/Cave of Mind (from Howl’s Moving Castle, 2004), Orchestra Stories: My Neighbor Totoro (1988), Kiki’s Delivery Service, and Spirited Away. 

Howl’s Moving Castle is one of my favorite Ghibli films, so I was delighted that its music opened the night. Because Merry-Go-Round of Life is an incredibly iconic piece and so well-known, I was a bit afraid that the performance would deviate from the original score or lack the same musical satisfaction. However, the orchestra’s rendition was beautiful. The canonic melody seamlessly weaved between the different string and wind instruments, and I particularly liked the pizzicato variations from the strings. My only complaint is that it could’ve gone longer, though I might be biased because I love the piece so much. Though the next part of the variation, Cave of Mind, is a piece I don’t often listen to, I got goosebumps because the brass solo makes it a hauntingly beautiful piece, and I could vividly recall the exact scene where this soundtrack is played during the concert.

The performance of Orchestra Stories: My Neighbor Totoro was interesting because the orchestra decided to add Japanese narration, spoken by Momo Kajiwara, to further enhance the storytelling. To be honest, I don’t love this movie because I don’t find the plot to be that engaging, but this addition made me see the film in a different light. The narration was splitinto eight different sections that summarize the movie’s plot with an English translation provided in the program, and it helped paint the innocent and mystical atmosphere of the movie for those who were unfamiliar with it. Furthermore, I love Totoro as a character, so I found it endearing that there was also someone dressed as Totoro to take pictures with.

The next feature was Kiki’s Delivery Service. I was taken aback by how short the piece was (or maybe I just found it so enjoyable that I got lost in time). Nevertheless, the performance of Kiki’s Delivery Service stood out to me among the rest of the program because of the concertmaster spotlight. The violin solo’s melody differs from the main theme, making it a fun addition to the piece as a whole, and the concertmaster played with a beautifully pure and clean tone.

The night then concluded with the Spirited Away Suite. Spirited Away is one of my favorite Ghibli films alongside Howl’s Moving Castle, so I was blown away by how similar the orchestra’s rendition of Spirited Away was to the original soundtrack. Furthermore, the gorgeous and somber piano melody further enhanced the quality of the music. 

Overall, I loved this concert. It was my first time getting to see the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra perform The Music of Studio Ghibli, and it will most definitely not be my last.

REVIEW: Stefan Jackiw Plays Tchaikovsky

Photos are provided by the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra

The Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra’s February 2025 MainStage took place on Saturday, February 22, at 8 PM in the Michigan Theater, and alongside performing Montgomery’s Overture and Shostakovich’s 10th symphony, theyaccompanied violinist Stefan Jackiw who gave a phenomenally clean and vibrant performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto in D Major.

The Overture was the first piece in the program. It was my first time hearing Jessie Montgomery’s Overture, but it was incredibly enthralling. The piece opens with strikingly dissonant chords played by the entire orchestra that serves as a unique melodic line. These chords continue to be the main feature before the violins begin to take over with faster-moving notes that are then accompanied by changing chords in the brass instruments. Overall, it was a piece that can be largely described as a musical cacophony and served as a great introduction before moving on to the brighter melody of the violin concerto, which was the highlight of the night.

Similar to many other members of the audience, Tchaikovsky was the main reason why I wanted to attend this concert, as it’s one of the most famous violin concertos. The concerto’s grand melody truly makes the violin sing, which requires the soloist to have a high level of technique. The first movement, Allegro moderato, opens with a gentle melody from the orchestra that slowly builds up to the soloist’s entrance, which is low and soulful and evokes a sense of yearning that Jackiw’s strong vibrato captured perfectly. As the melody continues to ascend in pitch, its playful character grows and flourishes with runs before once again blending into a more soulful tune. I particularly admired Jackiw’s ability to bring out a full sound during each note no matter how short while using the full length of the bow, which requires accurate control of the bow’s weight with your hand. 

The second movement, Canzonetta: Andante, similarly opens with a slower-moving melodic line from the orchestra. However, the soloist’s entrance remains somber and slow for the majority of the movement, a tasteful contrast to the preceding flightful first movement. 

The opening of the third movement, the Finale: Allegro vivacissimo, is then startling. The orchestra is silent as the soloist’s part features strong, rich chords that Jackiw still manages to play with a clear and bright tone. He retained this brightness throughout the whole concerto, which was especially impressive during the last movement as it’s twelve minutes long, and it’s many character changes. The last section of the finale which consists of fierce spiccato was especially impressive, and spectacularly concluded the end of his performance.

Though I love Shostakovich, it was hard to imagine how the last piece of the program, Shostakovich’s Symphony No.10 in E minor, would make for a more satisfying conclusion to the night than the Tchaikovsky. The Moderato begins somberly slow, but the second movement, the Allegro, picks up and starts to set a frantic, anxious atmosphere that often comes with Shostakovich’s music. The character of the piece was fleshed out even more once the short, staccato notes opened the third movement, the Allegretto. Though the mood this piece evoked was much more different than the Tchaikovsky—much less cheerful—the ending of the finale was just as grand with fast notes from the violins and loud chords from the brass.

Overall, I enjoyed this concert. I am so happy I got to hear the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto live, and Stefan Jackiw did an amazing job at bringing the piece to life. Though he’s a soloist I hadn’t heard of before I’ll keep an ear out for him moving forward.

 

REVIEW: Pops en Pointe

April 19 | 7pm | The Michigan Theater

 

 

The Michigan Pops is one of the most beloved student organizations on campus—and don’t ask me. Ask any one of the hundreds of attendees at the Michigan Theater on April 19.

Founded in 1995, the Michigan Pops brings talented musicians from across the University Campus to perform a concert each academic semester. The orchestra is led by music director Luca Antonucci, and associates Nicholas Bromilow and Francisco Fernandez, three fierce Doctoral Conducting students from the School of Music.

“Pops En Pointe” discovered a selection of repertoire surrounding dance (if that wasn’t completely obvious from the title). The first pieces were the non-negotiables in the dance-related classical canon, including Brahms’s “Hungarian Dance No. 5” and Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite”, in which a touching “Waltz of the Flowers” warmed my heart. Auruto Marquez’s fiery “Danzón no. 2” featured striking solos across the ensemble.

If you know Pops, they aren’t without their fun. Instrumentalists introduce pieces in mouse hats or bird costumes. They accompany full-length selections with silly videos made by members of the ensemble. And host a mini game show onstage with members of the audience mid-concert. Quirky, engaging bits (that are often too long) are always a memorable part of the Michigan Pops experience.

The slightly underwhelming but charming DJ’s A Cappella group performed selections from ABBA’s “Mamma Mia” after intermission. This is not the first time I’ve heard the Michigan Theater’s sound system being unsatisfactory for vocalists. With boomy mics and offset balance, this performance was no different, washing the voices. Some solos remained intact, but were delivered somewhat unexuberantly, perhaps inhibited by the sound constraints.

The Michigan Pops hosts an annual concerto competition for high school students. This year, stunning young cellist Trevor Nelson from Huron High School was the recipient. He performed a cut from Camille Saine-Saëns’ “Cello Concerto No. 1 in A Minor”, a beautifully dramatic and declamatory piece. A gifted and humble performer, he plays for the Michigan Youth Symphony Orchestra and has brought his musicianship around the world to Spain and Toronto.

Pavani Anand, the Executive Director of the Michigan Pops, closed the concert with a heartfelt speech about her relationship to the cello and her mother, who encouraged her throughout her youth. Equally, her speech emphasized the defunding of arts organizations across America.  Her call to support live music comes at a crucial time as the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) recinds hundreds of grants to major arts organizations across America.

Music gives us the facility to dance and bring communities together, and without it, who are we?

 

 

 

 

Photos thanks to The Michigan Pops.

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: Berliner Philharmoniker

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

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.