The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, April 17, 2015 — 5

Marc Maron talks
on creative process

EVENT PREVIEW

Comedian/TV star 
discusses stand-up 
and the age of the 

podcast

By AKSHAY SETH &
ERIKA HARWOOD

Daily Arts Writers

“Yeah, hold on a second,” come-

dian Marc Maron said. “I think 
maybe I’ll get a big bag of that lit-
ter.”

While 
run-

ning 
some 

errands, includ-
ing stocking up 
on cat supplies 
for his two pets, 
Monkey 
and 

Lafonda, Maron 
squeezed 
in 

time for a phone 
conversation 
with The Michi-
gan Daily. With 
strained instructions to a pet store 
employee serving as background 
music, Maron discussed his April 
18 show at the Royal Oak Music 
Theatre, his groundbreaking pod-
cast “WTF With Marc Maron,” 
which helped establish the medi-
um’s relevance and, lastly, his 
recent interview with Mick Jagger.

“Then the next day, when Keith 

(Richards) called — you know, 
Keith’s really my guy,” Maron said. 
“With Keith, I definitely wanted to 
try to be cool and ask some of the 
right questions, to get him to con-
nect with me. And with Mick, I 
just wanted him to be Mick. With 
Keith there was more at stake.”

Though Maron initially attract-

ed attention at the height of the late 
’80s, early ’90s comedy boom, that 
prominence quickly faded as the 
club circuit became oversaturated 
with lukewarm talent. With too 
many amateur stand-ups putting 
out a steady stream of lackluster 
material, career comedians like 
Maron fought to cut through the 
white noise. Other fledgling road 
comics of the time, including now-
household names like Louis C.K. 
and Sarah Silverman, went on to 
find writing careers in sitcoms and 
late night shows as the ’90s wound 
down. Meanhwhile, Maron strug-
gled.

“When things got really rough 

for comedians, after the (first) 
boom, when there was a lot of us 
out there, they just sought to low-
ball everybody because they knew 

we were desperate,” Maron said in 
a recent interview with Vulture, 
explaining his relationship with 
comedy club owners.

Maron’s troubles with alcohol-

ism, depression and drug abuse 
further inhibited his ability to 
stay relevant. Listening to any 
one of the opening monologues 
in his 530 episodes as the host of 
“WTF,” there’s a vivid yet insulat-
ed window into some of the anger 
so visible in his early material. 
In “Thinky Pain,” Maron’s most 
recent Netflix special, he describes 
that technique as “grunting inco-
herently at the audience, giving 
someone the finger, then crying in 
a hotel room.”

“Previous to the era that we’re 

living now, I really couldn’t sell 
tickets so I would do club dates. As 
an unknown headliner there’s no 
reason for clubs to book you unless 
they believe in you, and I burned 
a lot of bridges,” he said. “People 
didn’t really give a shit about me 
... so my experience for all those 
years previous to the podcast and 
the TV show, I was always a pretty 
respected comic, but I just didn’t 
have the draw.”

Broke and unable to book 

shows, and with little to no career 
prospects, Maron bottomed out. 
As he struggled to achieve the 
success he initially found as a 
stand-up, he saw an opportunity 
in trying to talk about his prob-
lems with other comics. The most 
intimate and economical format 
for this became a pre-recorded 
podcast that eventually grew into 
what is now considered one of the 
greatest podcasts of all time. 

“You have to enjoy the pro-

cess,” Maron said. “All that con-
fidence that I didn’t have through 
most of my life, the self-esteem I 
didn’t have through most of my 
life was now actually occurring.” 

The podcast’s success gave 

Maron’s career second wind, as 
did a more tempered and con-
versational tone in his standup. 
“Maron,” his television show on 
IFC, recently finished filming 
its third season, which will pre-
miere this spring. As he continued 
maintaining his sobriety, “WTF” 
served as ongoing therapy with a 
network of peers, many of whom 
Maron had known since his start 
30 years ago. In what is arguably 
the podcast’s best episode, Maron 
spends nearly two hours talking 
and eventually making amends 
with Louis C.K., with whom he 
had a falling out as their careers 
took opposite trajectories.

“I saw the podcast as a commu-

nity service for a community of 
comics. These are my peers, this 
is my life, this is my community, 
this is my neighborhood,” Maron 
said. “The fact that comics were 
coming in and talking and ... were 
listening and catching up with 
other comics they hadn’t talked to 
in a while. It was very gratifying.”

Since the resurgence of his 

career, 
Maron’s 
approach 
to 

stand-up 
has 
become 
more 

methodical. Rather than just 
showing up on stage and bitterly 
screaming at audience members, 
Maron’s recent approach to per-
formance has mellowed out. He 
spends the months leading up to 
tours writing and workshopping 
material at local Los Angeles ven-
ues, then chiseling it into shape 
on the road. The most discernible 
characteristic of his work, which 
will likely be apparent in Satur-
day’s show at Royal Oak, is open-
ness with a sense of control.

As for what’s next, Maron 

doesn’t want to get stuck trying 
to understand where his career 
will guide him.

“I would like to figure out how 

to enjoy life,” said Maron. “That’s 
my goal.”

Marc 
Maron 
@ Royal 
Oak Music 
Theatre

Sat., April 18

$50

EVENT PREVIEW
Men’s Glee performs

By GRACE HAMILTON

Daily Arts Writer

Have you ever had a moment 

when you’re singing in the car 
with your friends (or maybe it’s the 
living 
room), 

and 
things 

come together 
for a second?

“That 

sounded good,” 
someone says. 
You agree, and 
perhaps 
dis-

cuss how you 
wish you were 
singers. 

Maybe this 

analogy doesn’t work for you. 
Maybe you just really enjoyed 
“Glee.” For some reason, you found 
the stylized group renditions pref-
erable to their superior originals. 

If this doesn’t resonate either, 

maybe it’s because you’ve been 
lucky enough to understand the 
unique pleasure and pull of a group 
of voices in person, at a concert or, 
in my case, to my parents’ driving 
music. 

Finally, if you are in the group to 

whom the beauty of choral harmo-
ny is unfamiliar entirely, then an 
introductory opportunity awaits 
you. 

“Choral music has the ability to 

tap into folk music from every cul-
ture, because every culture sings 
and has done so for thousands of 
years,” said Eugene Rogers, Univer-
sity of Michigan Men’s Glee Club 
director. “The ability to connect 
our world, that’s what makes choir 
singing unique.” 

The Men’s Glee Club is 155 years 

old, making it the oldest student-
run organization on campus and of 
one of the oldest collegiate choirs 
in the nation. The choir is made up 
of 100 men, ranging from 17 to 27 
years old. 

Rogers, who studied choral 

music education at the University 
of Illinois and conducting at the 
University of Michigan, has led the 
Glee Club for four years now. In 
this time, the choir has continued 
to grow in musical excellence. 

“This year has been an epic year 

for us,” Rogers said. “We were just 

selected through blind audition 
to perform at the National Choral 
Directors Association Conference 
in Salt Lake City, Utah.”

The Glee Club is one of two col-

legiate choruses selected for this 
honor. All 100 choristers will be 
attending this six-day tour, entirely 
free of charge, due to the club’s 
extensive fundraising efforts and 
alumni support. 

LSA Senior, Patrick Pjesky, the 

Glee Club’s current president, was 
in Dr. Roger’s first graduating class. 
Pjesky and Rogers work as a team, 
with Rogers handling all matters 
musical and Pjesky and the rest 
of the board managing publicity, 
alumni relations and other business 
matters. Pjesky said his involve-
ment in the choir is what helped 
him land a job working in develop-
ment. 

“It’s a unique combination of 

faculty and students together run-
ning this group. If it was just one or 
the other, it wouldn’t be the same,” 
Rogers said. “That’s what makes it 
so strong. These guys are like my 
brothers.” 

Pjesky added, “It’s not uncom-

mon that I receive a call from DR 
(Dr. Rogers) at 11:30 on Friday 
night.”

Aside from the powerful cama-

raderie of the choir, the Glee Club 
is a support base for students. Each 
year, the Glee Club gives away over 
$30,000 in scholarships, made pos-
sible by the continuous involvement 
of over 2,500 living alumni. Choris-
ter needs from travel expenses to 
tuxedo costs are covered. The choir 
has always been strong in providing 
its students with support, financial 
and otherwise. 

“Leadership and social out-

reach have always been very 
strong within the Glee Club. Our 
goal is maintaining student leader-
ship and engagement as well as the 
highest level of musical excellence 
possible,” Rogers said. “To push 
our musical excellence, achieving 
national recognition was huge, as 
well as exploring as many differ-
ent types of male choral singing as 
possible.”

Constructing a diverse and 

meaningful repertoire is chal-
lenging. Rogers tends to organize 

repertoires around certain broad 
themes that can be applied to 
many occasions. This year’s theme 
is “homeland.” 

“We focus on pieces that deal 

with distant and foreign lands, as 
well as the heart,” he said. “The 
word is being used in both a spe-
cific and a very general sense.”

With an entire fund dedicated 

to commissioning new pieces, the 
choir is constantly adding new 
music. At this year’s spring con-
cert, the men will premiere two 
new pieces. 

“One piece by a former Univer-

sity of Illinois professor is set to a 
David Woodsworth text. It con-
nects to the land idea by exploring 
the contradictory way in which we 
appreciate so many things around 
us, yet forget the very essence of 
beauty in nature,” Rogers said. 

Another piece is written by a 

Detroit native, Brandon Waddles. 
This gospel-inspired piece, “Come 
and Go to that Land,” is dedicated 
to Detroit Public Schools and their 
long tradition of musical excel-
lence. 

The wide contrast between the 

two pieces is typical of one of the 
choir’s concerts. 

This Saturday, the University’s 

Men’s Glee Club will also be joined 
by the men’s glee club from the 
University of Miami Ohio. The two 
groups together will total to about 
180 performers. 

“It’s not common to have this 

many men singing at such a high 
level,” Rogers noted. 

In addition to friends, fam-

ily, administrative regulars and 
Ann Arbor fans, the Glee Club is 
looking to expand its audience, 
and Pjesky is helping to lead this 
mission. 

“I am convinced that choral 

music is the way to bring this 
world together,” a Persian audi-
ence member said to Rogers after 
hearing his chorus sing Persian 
music. 

Singing together creates soli-

darity. Music breaks barriers. 
The audience becomes a part of 
the sound and the sound a part of 
everything else. So, unplug your 
headphones and plug in to some-
thing special. 

MUSIC NOTEBOOK
Kendrick’s ‘i’ power

Men’s Glee 
Club 155th 
Spring Hill 
Concert

8 p.m.

Hill Auditorium

$5 for students

By CLAIRE WOOD

Daily Arts Writer

The other day, I had a friend tell 

me hip hop was deep. I laughed 
— the hip-hop jams I had heard 
up until that point had dwelled in 
the shallower parts of the puddle. 
I mean, yeah, I’ll dance to the stuff 
(the bass is popping, quite frankly). 
But am I beckoned by some hidden 
form of intellectual insight? Mm, 
nope. 

You can’t blame me — my hip-

hop listenings are, quite honestly, 
few and far between. Neither 
Lil Wayne’s “she lick me like a 
lollipop” or Sage the Gemini’s 
“wiggle like you trying to make 
your ass fall off” leave much to 
think about. That was hip hop for 
me: “pussy on my mind” and “ganja 
in my sweat glands.” Pumping, 
thumping, sensual and shallow. 

And then I heard Kendrick 

Lamar. 

The first song I listened to from 

To Pimp a Butterfly was “i.” It 
starts off with a magical texture 
— light guitar over intricate 
rhythms. “I done been through a 
whole lot,” Lamar dives in. “Trials, 
tribulations, but I know God.” The 
words are genuine, spoken with 

hope for the future. Electric guitar 
wails out over the mix; I feel it 
deep inside me, happy and free. 

“And I love myself.” 
Intricate 
rhythms 
leap 
as 

the chorus unfolds. The song is 
rapping, tapping in my ear drums 
with an irrevocable fervency that 
shakes in your bones.

“I love myself.”
Lamar 
speaks 
again, 
and 

I breathe in the words. It’s a 
contagious sense of movement, of 
vitality. 

“I love myself.”
Lamar declares a third time. 

It’s drums, guitar, and confident, 
absolute self-acceptance — and it’s 
beautiful. 

But 
beneath 
the 

lightheartedness, 
I 
hear 

something else. “Life is more than 
suicide,” the rapper spits in the 
chorus. The guitar and tapping 
percussion continue. “The world is 
a ghetto with big guns and picket 
signs,” Lamar raps. It floats out of 
smiling rhythms and strums, and 
I hear it: pain. Pure and brazen, 
lifting out of a chorus of happiness 
and hope. I hear lines of torment, 
woven into the words like scarlet 
thread in a tapestry. “It’s a war 
outside, bomb in the street, gun in 

the hood, mob of police,” Lamar 
persists. The electric guitar wails 
out once more, but the strings 
scream no longer in joy, but in 
anguish. It’s Lamar’s world — the 
land of big guns, picket signs, gang 
violence and suicide. It goes on and 
on, the pain in this song, masked in 
a spinning melody of acceptance 
and aspiration. 

It’s “i” that disproved my 

belief that hip hop was strictly 
shallow, lollipop-licking music. 
Yes, some songs embody this 
style (the frat party-esque songs 
of Lil Wayne and B.o.B.). But in 
“i,” Lamar makes a statement. 
It’s a sharp juxtaposition that 
embodies the artist’s point — 
the piercing starkness of harsh 
brutality against unadulterated 
self-love. Lamar’s is a message of 
optimism in the midst of struggle. 
We must love ourselves despite 
those that stand in our way. We 
can’t let others bring us down. 
It is a message of strength and 
confidence, one that opened my 
eyes to a world of hip-hop unlike 
the shallow verses I had known 
before. In the words of Lamar, 
“The sky can fall down, the wind 
can cry now, The strong in me — I 
still smile.”

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK
Four lessons for the 
first- time director

By REBECCA GODWIN

Daily Arts Writer

For almost six weeks in 

February and March, I did 
something I never saw myself 
doing. I directed a play. But 
it wasn’t just any play; it was 
<em>my play</em>. Over the 
past year, I wrote, rewrote, 
edited and finally finished my 
full-length comedy, “Once Upon 
A … Oh Crap.” When I began 
the directing process, I had 
absolutely no experience and no 
idea what to expect. And now 
that I’ve finished, I want to share 
some of the things I learned. So 
here goes. 

First:
You’ll be tired — perpetually 

tired. And this won’t necessarily 
be from a lack of sleep, though 
that will certainly play a part. 
No, this exhaustion will come 
from trying to keep track of every 
component of the production. 
It’ll get to the point where you 
forget what it feels like to be well 
rested. And then one day, you’ll 
turn off your alarm in your sleep 
and wake up at 3:30 p.m. and 
wonder what happened and how 
you lost control of your life.

Second: 
Almost all of your time will 

be dedicated to the show. Even 
when you’re not specifically 
working on the show, you’ll 

be thinking about the show 
— thinking about what props 
still need to be purchased or 
collected, 
what 
scenes 
you 

need to go over in rehearsal or 
what costume pieces need to 
be made. And when your time 
isn’t consumed by the show, 
you’ll be spending it catching 
up on homework and projects 
and class. You won’t realize how 
much time you’ve given to the 
show until you’re at a party and 
a song comes on that everyone 
but you seems to know, and then 
you’ll go off to reflect on your life 
choices.

Third:
 You are nothing without a 

good production team. Seriously. 
I can’t stress this any more. These 
are the people you’ll be working 
with the most, so it’s absolutely 
vital you all get along. I know 
that my show wouldn’t have been 
nearly as good as it was without 
those amazing people, so make 
absolutely sure you can stand 
being around your production 
team. If you don’t have the right 
team, what should be a fun and 
exciting challenge will just be a 
challenge. And then you’ll end up 
hating them and then you’ll hate 
yourself for picking them, and 
that’s just messy. 

Last: 
No matter how tired you 

get or how behind you are 

on homework, nothing is as 
rewarding as seeing your hard 
work pay off on opening night. 
When all of the pieces fall into 
place, and you hear the audience 
laugh and applaud, everything 
— 
every 
late 
night, 
every 

frustration, every moment when 
you felt completely exhausted 
and hated — will be forgotten 
and it will all be worth it. There 
are few moments that compare to 
seeing your words brought to life. 
As cliché as it sounds, I wouldn’t 
hesitate to put myself through 
everything again just for that 
moment. 

So yes, my grades slipped a 

little and OK, I’ve fallen behind 
on pop culture and have no clue 
what’s happening on most TV 
shows (who knows what Olivia 
Pope is up to), and sure I’m still 
trying to retrain my body so I 
can go to bed before 3 a.m. every 
night, but all of these things pale 
in comparison to what I pulled 
off. I took my own play, directed 
it and, with the help of a group 
of incredibly talented people, 
staged it in just five weeks. 
And everything I lost during 
the directing process means 
absolutely nothing when I think 
about what I won. Now reread 
these lessons, pull out your 
laptop, face that blank screen 
and think about what you might 
win.

COURTESY OF MARC MARON

Clearing his porn history.

