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 my play. 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.