REVIEW: For Colored Girls Who’ve Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow’s Enuf

Basement Arts presents their first show of the season: For Colored Girls Who’ve Considered Suicide / When The Rainbow’s Enuf  by Ntozake Shange. The 1976 piece is presented as a choreopoem, a unique collection of spoken poems that intertwines staging and fluid movement. Director Sarah Oguntomilade works alongside choreographer Gilayah McIntosh to navigate Ntozake’s lyrical prose to create a piece illuminating the complexities of Black womanhood, friendship, and identity with unwavering grace and power.

In the show, each character is depicted as a color of the rainbow with the addition of brown. They perform some poems alone, but in other moments come together to deliver a unified story, creating a mural of emotions. Characters were acutely aware of one another, offering solidarity when some were delivering heavy-hearted monologues and experiencing saturated joy together for others. The performers breathe life into the individuality of their roles, showcasing a kaleidoscope of personalities that are both vivid and distinct, yet reminiscent of Ntozake’s personal experiences and emotions. Oguntomilade clearly holds a deep understanding of theater and poetry, as her direction was fluid and honest, capturing the essence of each moment poetically and dramatically. Accompanied by McIntosh’s seamlessly exciting choreography, the piece was aesthetically magnificent.

The authenticity of the choreopoem form shines through Ntozake’s meticulously crafted words, breathing life into the performance while speaking radiant visions of her experiences to the audience. The ensemble expertly navigated exhilarating highs and heartbreaking lows with unwavering conviction, leaving the audience both beaming with love and holding back a rush of tears. The poems fearlessly take on topics such as abuse, sex, and emotional trauma—it is a show to be emotionally prepared for while inviting audiences to confront the complexities of the African-American experience with unflinching honesty and empathy. The show humbly forms a mosaic of poetic brilliance that lingers long after exiting the theater.

For Colored Girls Who’ve Considered Suicide / When The Rainbow’s Enuf  is a deeply touching piece about the resilience, bravery, friendship, strength, and beauty of African-American women, and went out last week with roaring success. Basement Arts will perform two more shows during the Winter season: Collective Rage: A Play in 5 Betties directed by Brynn Aaronson and Falsettos directed by Naomi Parr. Auditions and performance dates are posted on @basement_arts on Instagram. 

 

More about Ntozake Shange and her legacy here.

Feb 2, 11pm. Image thanks to Basement Arts. Performed in the Newman Studio on North Campus. 

REVIEW: Reading and Q&A with Ross Gay

On Thursday, December 9th, the poet Ross Gay gave a reading and held a Q&A session at the UMMA Stern Auditorium. I haven’t been to any poem readings before so I was surprised to find that the venue was so packed there weren’t enough seats. I’m a visual learner, so I often find myself zoning out when I’m required to listen for long periods. However, my professor told me that she fell in love with Ross Gay’s writing after she went to his reading, whereas when she read his poems they didn’t have as much of an impact. I quickly found out what she meant. When Ross Gay was reading his poems, it felt like he was giving a speech or acting out lines of a play. In other words, it felt like he was reading prose rather than poetry.

Since it’s impossible to speak line breaks, I was trying to notice how he may emphasize certain phrases more than others. I’m not sure if I’m looking too hard into things, but I did notice that at some times he’d pause a bit longer or change the inflection and volume of his voice. However, everything flowed so smoothly and sounded so natural it’s hard to point out specific spots to closely analyze unlike when reading poetry. The performative aspect was what drew my attention because he wasn’t simply reading words. He interacted a lot with the crowd through eye contact and hand gestures. It was interesting to see how his passion transfers off of the page and how he expresses himself, and it was an experience that made me realize how off I may be when interpreting an author’s work.

There were a few moments where the audience laughed which surprised me, but that could’ve been because the poem he read was about basketball, which I know nothing about. I think overall I’m always picking apart texts to find a ‘deeper’ message when it could just be something unknowingly lighthearted until read aloud. It made me realize that as a reader I often project my own emotions and experiences when interpreting other people’s work, perhaps blinding myself to the obvious. I only wish I had his poems written down in front of me to look at while I listened to further explore that concept.

REVIEW: 17th Annual Multicultural Greek Exhibition

*The image above features Lambda Theta Alpha Latin Sorority, Incorporated; sorry I didn’t have a good seat to take a picture from :,)*

I saw many familiar organizations from the Yardshow last semester at the Multicultural Greek Exhibition (MGX) on Saturday. Since this event was in a smaller and more private venue, I think I got to know more about the community; one art form I really appreciated seeing again is called a ‘salute’. It’s a tradition unique to many Latino-Greek organizations and is performed in a line formation. They described it as being different from a step or stroll, which are more dance-like, and compared it to a form of poetry expressed through both recitation and movement honoring past accomplishments and cultural history.

Saluting can be startling when seeing it for the first time due to its intense nature, and I hadn’t heard of it before last Saturday; when I first saw it at the Yardshow I didn’t even know that some of the performances I was watching were called a salute. I’m sure many others haven’t heard or seen a salute before either because of how integrated it is in Greek (specifically Latino-Greek) culture and there aren’t many opportunities to see them. I highly recommend it though, because it’s truly a special experience.

It’s impossible for me to capture the salutes I saw only in words, but in my best attempt to describe it the members were SO powerful with their facial expressions, had amazing coordination, showed unbreakable unity, and expressed passionate language. You truly see a whole other side to someone who is performing a salute. Their hard work is so impressive.

I did enjoy the other groups too! I’ve only been attending more serious dance-focused events recently, as in the performers and centered around dance performance, and coming to this event reminded me of how much fun it is for the audience AND the performers when they’re not even ‘dancers’.

While I don’t want to compare, I did prefer the Yardshow more, largely due to the location. Since it was indoors and in a smaller room, there wasn’t much awareness or accessibility to the general public that the event was happening. This meant that the amount and kind of audience were limited and the view I had of the stage wasn’t very good.

Still, it was a fun time and I’m glad I went! Shoutout to all the organizations that performed, especially Lambda Theta Alpha Latin Sorority, Incorporated for organizing it and doing such a good job hosting.

 

REVIEW: FASA’s Philippine Culture Night

The featured image above is a performance on a musical instrument called a kulintang, and the weaving of the mallets represents the motion of weaving a basket.

Saturday night, the Michigan Union was bustling with activity for FASA’s long-awaited PCN. Everybody was elegantly dressed in long gowns and suits. The audience consisted of not only students, but friends, families, alumni, special keynote speakers, and even Filipino American student associations from Universities in Grand Rapids, Oakland County, and Dearborn.

FASA prepared multiple acts, such as various live singing performances (including a featured performance from FASOU, a student band from Oakland University), traditional instrumental music accompanied by dance, a poem reading, and many more.

 

A cover of “All I Ask” by Adele

This was the most memorable live music performance for me. The students covering the song showcased so much musical talent in their harmonies and synchrony with one another, and they’re not even an established music group. I don’t even see the same chemistry or skill in groups that focus on live singing.

 

The traditional music ensemble

 

The fan dance performed alongside the ensemble

What interested me the most about this dance is the lack of facial expressions on the dancers. Normally, facial expressions are a key focus in dance, because it’s the most blatant way to express emotional depth. In this case, the poker faces created a very elegant atmosphere.

 

Dance incorporating modern music with a cultural twist

This was another performance that really stood out to me. It was so much fun seeing how modern and cultural art can collaborate with each other. As they performed the traditional dance steps, students showcased goofy and joyful facial expressions in contrast to the fan dance performed just previously.

 

FASA’s band

 

A hip-hop dance to American and Philippine pop music to end the night

 

Unfortunately, there were serious sound issues at PCN. The mics often rang and that really took away from the experience. In addition, the technical difficulties dragged the event to become an hour longer due to frequent awkward pauses between and even in the middle of performances. Overall, it was an amazing, lively, and lovely event to attend. However, I’m not sure if I would come back to PCN next year because of how long it was. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t consider going again, though, and I highly encourage anybody interested to attend the event next year!

REVIEW: Into the Labyrinth: A History of Physics From Galileo to Dark Matter

8:00pm • Friday, January 27, 2023 • Keene Theater

Into the Labyrinth was a mind-boggling musical experience, most of which shot straight over my head and toward the stars. The concert was a dynamic fusion of the history of physics, Argentinian folk music, jazz, experimental decaphonic guitar, sung poetry, and spoken word. The evening was structured chronologically, beginning with Galileo’s ponderings about the knowability of the universe, moving onward to Newton’s Laws of Motion, to Clausius’s definitions of thermodynamics, to the work Maxwell, Curie, Einstein, and other physicians who I didn’t learn about in 10th grade, to the physicians who pioneered the theory of quantum mechanics and electrodynamics. This brief history of physics was conveyed not only through direct quotations, but also through poetry and excerpts from Elfriede Jelinik’s play Kein Licht (“No Light”).

At the beginning of the program during a Q&A, Alberto Rojo, the work’s primary composer, explained how carefully he had chosen different styles of Argentinian folk music to represent the different eras of our understanding of physics. Again, most of this went over my head, because I have zero background knowledge on either subject. Instead, I related closely with Michael Gould, the work’s arranger, who in joking reference to the complexity of the piece said something like, “You just have to let it wash over you,” which I did.

My favorite movement was the last, which Rojo describes as “an open-ended appeal to continue the search for understanding.” The movement featured a “decaphonic” guitar that Rojo constructed as a way to explore different ways to divide up the musical scale. Typical Western music uses a seven-step scale, the one you’re familiar with if you’ve ever heard “Do-Re-Mi” from The Sound of Music. Rojo’s guitar took one interval of sound (the distance between Do and Do, if this makes any sense to you) and divided it into 10 equal parts, resulting in a sound that he described as “the music of a culture that doesn’t exist.” I loved how the idea of “discovering” an unfamiliar scale connected with the theme of scientific exploration and the unknown.

My overall impression of the concert was that of a wild experimental musical. I wish I could watch it a few more times over, to really dig into the details of the quotations and the music. I feel privileged to have been at its world premiere, and I hope Into the Labyrinth will see a successful future in front of further audiences.

REVIEW: The Hurting Kind By Ada Limón

 

Poetry is for people who see the human in the inhuman. Poets can look at a wheelbarrow and see a meaning beyond hauling dirt and bricks. They see the memories, the origin of such an object, and something deeper that I can’t name. The Hurting Kind by Ada Limon is a prime example of this phenomenon.

As peak reading season approaches with rainy, cool days and changing leaves, I headed to the Ann Arbor District Library. Poetry drew me towards it because I knew the books tended to be short and sweet and mid semester I needed the satisfaction of completing something. The title, The Hurting Kind, seemed like the perfect mix of melancholy and deep that fits poetry so well and the author has gathered some acclaim at least from the short blurb that I read. 

However, I must admit I’ve never read a poetry book before. I found myself speeding through the book at my normal speed. It seemed wrong. After years of spending an entire class period on a poem and sometimes two classes, I felt like I shouldn’t just be flipping through the pages to reach the end. The more I read, the more I realized that the gift of a poetry book is that you’re able to pick the poems that resonate with you. You don’t have to tread the ones with top shelf names. 

The book is sectioned into the seasons with Spring as the start and Winter as the end. Each one has a subtle different feeling even if the season isn’t explicitly mentioned in the poem. My favorite poems come from spring. One of which is the Good Story. In the Good Story, Limon notices how she loved to hear the bad stories about the rough times her grandfather went through. However, once the days became bad, even the stories of overcoming were no comfort. She craved the stories about human kindness. She mentions one about her grandfather. After a breakup, her grandfather gave her a small pizza and watched her eat it in small pieces until she stopped crying. In the end, she decides that “maybe she was just hungry.”

The hope and familial connection drew me to feel something with this poem which may show my lack of poetry experience. Later in the book, Ada mentions the cliche of grandparent poems. Yet, she calls out her grandmother right after in the namesake poem the Hurting Kind. I think this shows a true sense of voice and the fearlessness to say something that may have been said before but that should continue to be said. Overall, I would recommend the Hurting Kind because it would not be the kind of book to hurt to read.