REVIEW: Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower

Concisely told a non-cliche, non-overdramatic tale of the apocalypse with a real and rich cultural background.

Parable of the Sower was a visually and sonically satisfying opera. Based on the Science fiction novel written by Octavia Butler, Toshi Reagon had created an apocalypse opera that tells the story concisely with limitedly-selected stage designs. The story follows a young teenager, Lauren, who questions the belief of her father, who is a professor and a figure in Baptist, while she lives in a protected community in her neighborhood and later set out on an uncertain journey to find a new home after an attack that destroys her community. Even though the story has quite a drama in it, it is not reflected in the stage design. Instead of visualizing the dramatic events in the plot on stage, the stage focused on three designs: a bench and a structure covered in white cloth to symbolize the peaceful, secure, closed area where Lauren and her community are staying, blackout with the spotlight only on Lauren’s face, drawing all attention on her and her tragic expression, when she sings that her father had not returned after going to work, and later on, an empty stage where people wondered all around it to emphasize the people’s wandering after they lost their community with an abstract painting that changed the shades according to the beat of the scene.

My main interest in viewing this production was 1) how the traditional genre of opera had connected with the new modern theme of Apocalypse and 2) how the musical heritage of African-Americans was integrated into the performance. For the first question, the production team has proven that operas do not have to be combined with traditional themes and with dresses with ruffles. Moreover, the emphasis on the songs was made clear with the limited stage designs. If the production team had tried to bring too much of what was going on stage to stage design, that would have diffused the audience’s attention, not to mention that those explosions and violence would have been hard to create satisfactorily. Instead, the production team went beyond by pointing out the resemblance between the Apocalyptic world and the current society – during the part where Toshi broke the fourth wall and invited the audience to sing along, the mention of some real and very familiar companies’ names made the connection clear. For the second part, some music definitely made clear the reference to Gospel and Rap. However, they went beyond to integrate different formats of music – rock, folk, and R&B, making this performance a culturally interesting work.

In all, this performance tosses an interesting food of thoughts and was visually and sonically satisfying in itself. I hope more performances like these will fill our stages.

PREVIEW: Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower

Parable of the Sower hits the Power center from March 25th to 27th.

This performance is an opera consisting of 30 original anthems which originate from 200 years history of African-American music. The storyline is from the novels Parable of the Sower’ and ‘Parable of the Talents’ by the late Afro-futurist and science fiction author Octavia E. Butler. These novels are Post-Apocalyptic novels-the story will follow young Lauren Olamina’s spiritual awakening in a dystopian America destroyed by greed and systemic injustice. I’m excited to check out how Opera could be set in a Post-Apocalyptic setting and can be combined with activism, ethnic and humane messages as the background of the numbers suggests. March 25th performance will also feature a brief Q&A with artists hosted by Dr. Toni Pressley-Sanon, the Eastern Michigan University’s Associate Professor of Africology and African American Studies. Tickets could be purchased at UMS website.

 

REVIEW: Once On This Island

The highlight of my weekend, by far, was seeing Musket’s Once on This Island performed at the Power Center this Saturday night. I can easily say that this was one of the most fantastic performances I’ve ever seen on a stage—there was so much incredible talent on the stage and in the seams of this show, and the cast brought so much energy and love to this story.

Once on This Island is a story set in the modern day French Antilles. An orphan girl, spared by the gods from a storm that swept her village, is taken in by an older couple and lovingly nicknamed Ti Moune. One day, a car crashes with a wealthy boy from the other side of the island, Daniel, inside. Ti Moune saves his life and falls in love with him, but when she pursues him back to the city, she is shunned by him and his people. The gods make a deal betting which is stronger, love or death, and Ti Moune, full with love and forgiveness for Daniel, loses her life. The gods transform her into a beautiful and strong tree, a tree so large it breaks open the city’s gates and provides shade to all people of the island. 

Simone Clotile, a University of Michigan junior, led the cast as a stunning Ti Moune. Clotile’s vocals are unmatched: clear, strong, and full of heart. My lungs were knocked clean of air during Ti Moune’s introductory song, “Waiting for Life.” Other standout performances included Tonton Julian, played by Nile Andah, and the gods: Abigail Aziz as Erzulie with a stunning solo “The Human Heart,” Mama Euralie played by Sarah Oguntumilade, and a sly and (wonderfully) terrifying portrayal of Pape Ge, the death god, by Jackson Kanawha Perry. Everything from costumes to choreography shined. The band, which was on the stage, blended into the set and story seamlessly, contributing to the masterful collaboration of music, dance, and acting on stage.

Musket does a fantastic job with their productions, and this was no exception. Congrats to the cast and crew for an amazing performance!

REVIEW: Funny Girl

Musket’s production of Funny Girl, originally a Broadway musical with Barbara Streisand, has an electric energy that can’t be forgotten. Running for just three nights at the Power Center on Central Campus, it can easily be missed; but, for all musical-lovers and Michigan students within walking distance of the theatre, keep your eye out for future productions at this location and other productions by Musket. The effortless humor and colorful characters of Funny Girl filled the venue with a liveliness that stuck with me even after I left.

I am typically not a musical-goer, as I prefer the believable effects and immersive atmosphere of typical movie theaters, but something about Funny Girl set it apart and drew me directly into the bustling and competitive setting of New York City. Surrounding the life of the awkward, stubborn, yet uniquely charismatic actress Fanny Brice, the musical explores her strenuous rise to fame. We witness her navigate the cutthroat competition of theatre in the Big Apple; we see her embrace her triumphs and mourn her defeats; and, most notably, we watch as she learns how to navigate the complexities of love and family in her gold-gilded life as a star. My favorite aspect of the story— besides experiencing the exciting growth of such an interesting character— is the focus on theater. Watching a musical about musicals adds a sense of realism; the actors are performing a story, but it is a story that is relevant to their own experiences. Many songs are performed in a fictional musical, so watching those scenes in an actual musical theater setting feels completely immersive.

The stellar cast raises the performance to another level. Carly Meyer, who plays Franny, captures the awkward humor and headstrong demeanor of the character perfectly. From classic clumsiness to goofy dance moves, the loud and unapologetic ambition of Franny echoes throughout the venue, as well as her strong and expressive voice. Each cast member brings incredible vocal talent to the stage as well as a specific energy and personality; ranging from the mysterious and wealthy Nicky Arnstein, played by Sohil Apte, to the brashly humorous Mrs. Meeker, played by Gavin Brock, the variety adds to the excitement of the show.  The score is iconic and unforgettable, featuring fast-paced classics and romantic ballads. The live pit orchestra added dimensionality and depth to the lively music. Through the live music and incredible vocal talents, the sound of Funny Girl is magical at the very least.

The relatable and in-touch nature of the subjects of Funny Girl— the awkwardness, the difficulty of love, and the blinding allure of success— creates a production that is far from fantasy. Funny Girl enticed me with its characters, drew me in with its realism, and captured my heart with its nostalgic score. Next time Funny Girl comes around, or any other Musket production, be sure to grab your $7 student ticket and catch it while you can.

PREVIEW: Mary Poppins

Whether you’re five or 95, Mary Poppins is an absolute delight.

The Burns Park Players present a special, family-oriented production of the Disney classic this week, intent on bringing all of Ann Arbor the joy and wonder of the nanny we all wanted for ourselves.

Since its 2013 departure from Broadway, productions of the play can be hard to find. Luckily the talented actors of this local troupe are doing us this service. Plus, the proceeds from ticket sales goes toward funding the arts in schools around town!

Showtimes are:

February 27, 7:30 PM

February 28, 7:30 PM

February 29, 2:00 PM

March 1, 2:00 PM

All at the Power Center, 121 Fletcher St.

Ticket prices range from $15-25, with special student pricing of $5 off when you apply discount code SPRINGBREAK at checkout.

Get your tickets here or at the door.

REVIEW: Sankai Juku, Meguri: Teeming Sea, Tranquil Land

After experiencing the Japanese dance form of butoh through Sankai Juku’s meditative performance, I felt both emotionally disturbed yet liberated. The continuous 90-minute ‘dance’ performance, composed of seven distinct acts, is supposedly choreographed to emanate the circularity within processes and systems such as the earth’s transformation and its movement through the four seasons. The eight performers are powdered a stark white from head to toe, donning bald heads, asymmetrical earrings, and mostly white, sarong-like costumes on their lower halves. They move in correspondence to emotionally dynamic music and express a “dialogue with gravity” through both graceful and grotesque movements marked by spinning, jumping, and eerie bodily gesturing. It is personally difficult for me to describe Sankai Juku through a traditional ‘dance’ perspective; I fail to see it confined to any form of dance theatre that I have experienced before. Sankai Juku as a whole feels more akin to a poetically disturbing expression of the human experience, while their interpretation of meguri translates as a storytelling experience that is facilitated by the mostly monochrome stage lighting that changed with each act.

I thought Ushio Amagatsu’s portrayal of the grotesque within the context of meguri communicated to the audience particularly well; Act V, titled Forest of Fossils, left me especially disturbed with my thoughts asunder. It was during this section that I finally reached some sort of understanding of the performers’ wide, gaping, mouths and permanently perturbed eyes – to me, they communicated agony in discovery and marked the climax of the program. During Act V, only three performers are present on a stage set aglow with greenish light; the music is both tensely trembling and pulsating with the sounds of rocks grinding, which calls to mind the natural shifting of the earth’s tectonic plates. Paralleling the earth’s provocations are the performers, who appear the most agitated that they have been, with one performer gesturing the most frantically and in the most ‘agony’ – at one point, that performer drags his limbs across the powdery ground in a tight spiral to form two symmetrical circles, then subsequently emotes in pure tension and agony around the formation of those two circles. The remaining two performers respond in an unsettling symmetry, and their generally upwards arm movements seem to be grasping at some unattainable substance or idea. The desperation and agony contained within this grotesque imagery, combined with the increasingly jarring music, left me feeling deeply unsettled and in rumination of Amagutsu’s artistic intent behind that section.

As much as I enjoyed the dichotomy between the grotesqueness of Amagutsu’s work and the beauty in the circularity and meguri it conveyed, I think the most uniquely beautiful aspect of Sankai Juku is how the performance manages to maintain universality in evoking the most visceral of emotions from its audience. My disturbed reaction to and interpretation of agony from Act V, Forest of Fossils, differs from the next audience member, yet the emotional impact of this does not seem to suffer in the face of Sankai Juku’s widely interpretable themes derived from the human experience.