100%

Scanned image of the page. Keyboard directions: use + to zoom in, - to zoom out, arrow keys to pan inside the viewer.

Page Options

Download this Issue

Share

Something wrong?

Something wrong with this page? Report problem.

Rights / Permissions

This collection, digitized in collaboration with the Michigan Daily and the Board for Student Publications, contains materials that are protected by copyright law. Access to these materials is provided for non-profit educational and research purposes. If you use an item from this collection, it is your responsibility to consider the work's copyright status and obtain any required permission.

March 24, 2016 - Image 8

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

2B — Thursday, March 24, 2016
the b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

MUSIC VIDEO REVIEW

A broken record sputters

and repeats, much like the
opening of Little Scream’s
“Love As a Weapon” music
video. Zooming out of an
ornate frame,
the shot
reveals singer
Laurel Spren-
gelmeyer
lounging in a
wooden chair,
surrounded
by wood-pan-
eled walls. The scene changes
only slightly with each repeti-
tion, not unlike a game of spot
the difference. The rest of the
video follows in an equally
quizzical fashion: metallic
hands dancing in American
Sign Language, tube lighting
illuminating a man voguing
and Sprengelmeyer dancing in
a brightly lit entryway wear-
ing a sequined windbreaker
as he sings, “Remember your
greatest gift is to dance.”

The majority of the video is

surreal, making it impossible

for viewers to place the house
in which the actions take
place at a certain point in time
or space — decades and genres
are spanned. There doesn’t
seem to be any connecting force
between the barrage of scenes,
colors and movements other
than their randomness. It’s not
until the shot again moves to
the picture frame that opened
the video that the pieces begin
to fall into place. Continuing

out through the frame hanging
upon the wall, Sprengelmeyer is
shown walking down a snowy
lane alone, repeating “gonna
work it out, gonna work it out.”
As this sentiment echoes, we
see Sprengelmeyer strutting
through the snow, puzzling
the same conundrum as the
audience — how to make sense
of the home within her head.

- CARLY SNIDER

B

Love as a
Weapon

Little Scream

SECRETLY CANADIAN

the city but my observations

at our destination also lead me
to lend credence to Saunders’s
statements regarding the posi-
tive energy of the community.

The trip in which I took part

was actually one of Seven Mile’s
newer
offshoot
programs,

dedicated to a combination of
visual art and creative writing.
The art program goes to the
neighborhood
on
a
weekly

basis. There are also two weekly
music trips, a large trip with
about 20 teachers on Fridays
and a smaller trip with about
six on Wednesdays. We arrived
at the building of Mission:
City — one of Seven Mile’s
community center partners —
around 7 p.m., finding a handful
of
students
finishing
some

tutoring sessions.

The common room of Mis-

sion: City had the smell of an
elementary school classroom
and complimentarily themed
decor (an example: a poster of
check-boxes, reading “Bullies
are: Not Cool, Not Friendly, Not
Popular, Not Respected, Not
Welcome, All of the Above,” the
last option of which bore a big
red checkmark). To our right a
boy was constructing a Eiffel
Tower-like
structure
using

gumdrops and toothpicks. On
the back wall of the community
center there were several rows
of uniquely patterned tiles,
each apparently hand-crafted
and bearing the name of a per-
son or group to which it was
presumably dedicated.

While I conducted an inter-

view with Saunders, students
worked with Seven Mile’s art
teachers on a Van Gogh-themed
project. At the beginning of
the activity, students wrote
haikus about sunflowers, and
then proceeded to draw their
own sunflower images, using
Van Gogh’s famous painting as
a model. In a side room of the
building, a couple of boys could
be heard drumming on a table
with markers, prompting Cece
Simonsen, a teacher with Seven
Mile, to say to Saunders, “Go
talk to them; they should join
the drum corps” — another of
Seven Mile’s more recent pro-
grams.

During the course of the

trip, Saunders showed me a
closet full of the instruments
Seven Mile uses, a collection
of various keyboards, violins,
cellos
and
guitars,
most

of
which
were
purchased

using money collected via a
GoFundMe page. Like many
nonprofit organizations, Seven
Mile is frequently low on
monetary resources, and relies
upon public donations given
through either their GoFundMe
page or website. Currently, the

organization is in the middle
of an instrument drive, the
goal of which is to collect both
instruments and funds with
which to buy more.

“We’re doing an instrument

drive with Spring Fest, with
Music Matters … that’s the thing
we’ve been (flyering) around
campus about,” said LSA junior
Mike Payne, Seven Mile Music’s
board chair.

“For the students who aren’t

able — because of time com-
mitments or for other reasons
— who aren’t actually able to
help us out by being a teacher,
by being a volunteer, they still
can do something,” Payne con-
tinued. “If you haven’t played
an instrument in a while, and
you’ve put it down for a while,
and you’re sort of at that point
where you think you’ve moved
on from it — that instrument
still has a lot of value, especial-
ly to the students that we work
with that wouldn’t otherwise
get the opportunity to play. It
could sit at home or it could be
in the hands of a child.”

In addition to the programs

Seven Mile offers during the
academic year, they also operate
a summer camp in Brightmoor
called Brightmoor Arts Camp,
which has very similar aims to
the main program, with slight
additions.

“It’s an eight-week program

… the goal was to bring in some
of the teachers we already had,
but also bring in teachers and
musicians from the community
to make sure that the music
and culture of the area was still
being cultivated,” Payne said.
“It really was something that
was sourced from Detroit.”

During the course of the

previous
summer
camp,

Saunders lived in Brightmoor
in order to better get to know
the
community.
Following

his
graduation
from
the

University
this
semester,

Saunders plans to move back to
the neighborhood to continue
growing the program as much
as he can during a planned gap
year before attending graduate
school.

“I’ve always dreamed big

for this,” Saunders said. “I see
this at first spreading to the
(rest of the) city of Detroit …
and then spreading around
Michigan — Flint, Saginaw,
Benton Harbor — some of the
more underprivileged areas of
Michigan.”

In addition to the state

of
Michigan,
Saunders
has

long-term
goals
for
Seven

Mile, which include dramatic
expansion.

“I definitely want it to go

national,” Saunders said. “I
think there is a need for this
all over. I see a model where
we provide start-ups at other
universities

like
Johns

Hopkins in Baltimore, we would
provide an umbrella funding,
curriculum, everything needed
for a motivated student at Johns
Hopkins to start a subsidiary
program. I really want it to
expand nationally, and I see
that happening through the
collegiate system.”

Part of the reason why

Saunders
is
so
passionate

about
bringing
music
to

disadvantaged children is his
own early experiences with it,
and the transformative effect it
had on his life.

“I started playing piano when

I was about 10, and it really got
me on a better track in life,”
Saunders said. “I was just not
doing well in school, I was not
doing well socially, I just wasn’t
doing well all around. And I
discovered a love of music, I
discovered I had a talent for it
and I just discovered an outlet
for myself.”

Saunders also cited the posi-

tive social health effects of
music, particularly emphasiz-
ing the impact it could have on
children from underprivileged
backgrounds.

“Just on the most basic level,

I think it is the purest form of
emotional expression, so par-
ticularly a child in a troubled
circumstance, with a lot of
emotions welling up inside of
them, it gives them an outlet
for those emotions,” Saunders
said. “It’s not like these emo-
tions disappear — either there’s
an outlet or they fester and
grow into something worse,
like depression or violence. A
lot of children in a neighbor-
hood like Brightmoor have very
few extracurricular activities
… so they have very little to do
with their time. Combine noth-
ing to do with a very troubled
situation and you often have a
child getting into a bad circum-
stance.”

While expressing a wish to

not overstate what he believed
Seven Mile could accomplish
— mentioning that the program
would likely simply be a bright
spot in the week for many of its
students — Saunders did display
optimism about the sort of
existence-altering effects Seven
Mile could possibly create.

“I think it does have the

potential to be transformative,”
Saunders said. “If we find a
couple children that really have
the aptitude and passion for it,
then this really could change
the whole trajectory of their
lives.”

SEVEN MILE
From Page 1B

By CAROLINE FILIPS

Senior Arts Editor

By BEN ROSENSTOCK

Senior Arts Editor

Since
1928,
the
Michigan

Theater
has
existed
as
a

bastion of community culture.
It
was
originally
designed

as a “movie palace” — an
institution characteristic of the
era — for silent films and stage
productions. In these early years,
it was common to preface films
with a 30-minute stage show
complete with an orchestra and
pipe organ, which has persisted
as an essential fixture of the
theater.

It’s
nothing
short
of

extraordinary for the Michigan
Theater to boast two of these
musical rarities, considering only
7,000 were assembled during
the limited heyday of theater
organ production, spanning from
1912 until 1932. These theater
organs are a special type of pipe
organ designed specifically for
silent
film
accompaniments.

Their ranks, or sets, of pipes,
imitate the instruments of the
bygone orchestras as much as
possible — not just the percussive
instruments of chimes and bells.

Since
1971,
these
giant

instruments have dwelled beside
each stage of the Michigan
Theater.
They’re
loud,
and

occasionally
fear-inducing.

They accompany theatergoers
throughout
the
emotional

journey of a silent film, or provide
a soothing overture to preface
the daily matinee. Today the
Barton pipe organ of the main
theater and the electric organ in
the screening room are played by
five organists — Henry Aldridge,
Andrew Rogers, Stephen Warner,
Lance Luce and David Hufford —
and heard each day.

“We are truly blessed to have

the full support of the Michigan
Theater staff,” Aldridge wrote
in an e-mail interview with The
Michigan Daily. “The Barton is
an integral part of the theater’s
activities. Patrons come early to
the movies just to hear it.”

For 40 years, Aldridge served

as a professor of electronic
media and film studies in the
Department of Communication,
Media & Theatre arts at Eastern
Michigan
University,
with

the organ serving as more of
a hobby. Much like his other
organist peers, he was always
interested in music — the church
pipe organs instantly intrigued
him as a child.

“Our church, St. Paul’s, had an

outstanding music program, and
I was very familiar with church
pipe organs,” Aldridge wrote.

During
his
undergraduate

years at the University of North
Carolina, he began playing a
small theater organ at the Center
Theater
in
Durham.
After

coming to Ann Arbor in l970,
Aldridge led a team of volunteers
in working on the Michigan’s
instrument in l971, beginning to
play it in public in l972.

He subsequently took theater

organ lessons from Father Jim
Miller of Fenton, Mich., through
whom he met future fellow
Michigan
Theater
organist

Rogers. In an interview, Rogers

referred to Father Jim as the best
instructor in the area.

“Music was always something

that I tried to do in between
the cracks of everything else,”
Rogers said.

What originally served as a

hobby while Rogers worked at a
plastics factory and then a travel
agency
became
his
primary

source of income. Though Rogers
now typically plays two to five
times during the week, he’s
always willing to substitute for
fellow organists.

“You like it that much?” the

Daily asked.

“That and it is my job,” Rogers

said in response, laughing. “We’re
really lucky to be here. It’s really
a gift. To have an original organ
in its original home is rare.”

The instrument’s rarity surely

makes it a local treasure, but it
poses challenges for the primary
musicians. Theater organs are
considered a thing of the past,
and music for them is no longer
composed.

“They can’t be taken on the

road, and there aren’t too many
places to play,” Rogers said. “It’s
really a double-edged sword.”

With
minimal
music
for

organists
today,
especially

theater
organists,
the

musicians must take on the
role of composers and create
original
arrangements.
For

the organists of the Michigan
Theater, this typically means
creating their own film scores
for upcoming silent films the
theater will screen. The process
is lengthy, often spanning two to
three weeks, during which the
organists watch the films over
and over, collecting moments and
emotions to reflect in the form of
a compelling composition.

“You’re taking this musical

material,
the
basis,
the

melody, the harmony and just
reorganizing it kind of in real
time,” Warner, another of the
organists, said. “You want to
make what you do a part of the
movie.”

Usually,
the
organists

start from scratch and watch
the silent films without the
provided score. According to
Rogers, creating a successful
score often means making sure
the music doesn’t draw attention
to itself. Still, the music does
have the ability to control the
audience’s expectations. Rogers
referred to Hitchcock’s silent
film “The Lodger: A Story of the
London Fog,” which features a
woman unwittingly falling for
a Jack the Ripper-type serial
killer, as an example.

“Musically, I have to decide

when to let you know she’s safe
in his presence,” Rogers said.
“(By using music), you actually
control part of the plot.”

“Try to capture the essence of

what the filmmaker was trying
to do,” Warner said. “Carry the
emotion — intensify it, maybe,
nuance it, but don’t change it.”

Some film scores require

more
work
than
others.

Warner said he often creates a
theme and assigns variations
to different characters. This
requires practice playing pieces
in different styles.

The standard running time

for these feature-length films is
70 minutes, but there are some
more ambitious projects. For
long films like the often four-
hour-long epics of D.W. Griffith,
the
scores
require
broader

brushstrokes; the music doesn’t
change every 15 seconds.

“I haven’t done (any of those)

yet,” Warner said. “I don’t know
if I have the guts to do it.”

The Michigan Theater in

particular offers the ability to
expand the musical palates of
its audiences, and it continually
offers new opportunities for the
organists themselves.

“Being in a venue like this,

you
can
be
experimental,”

Warner said. “I know I have an
adventurous audience here.”

To
these
organists,
the

relative obscurity of available
organ music and the antiquated
nature
of
the
instrument

doesn’t mean it has nothing to
offer in the modern world. After
all, the theater organ has always
faced scrutiny.

“Even in its heyday, there was

certainly a tension between the
theater organ and the classical
organ,” Warner said.

Warner also believes that the

theater organ still has a place in
modern music education.

“This is something we should

actually learn about,” he said.
“(After all), my personal music
interests are far before my time.
I’d love to start bringing back
some of my pop music.”

Even if organ music never

does
make
a
significant

resurgence, it still holds real
value to the Michigan Theater
organists.

“The instrument has a huge,

colorful palate, and it has a
huge,
expressive
capacity,”

Warner said. “In the end, that’s
kind of the reason I play it. You
can have some really magical
musical moments, singing for
your audience through this big
mechanical beast.”

ARTISTS
PROFILE

IN

NICOLAS WILLIAMS/Daily

The vintage organ helps give the Michigan Theater its charm.

SINGLE REVIEW

Late night, romantic

ruminations over what could’ve
been, what has been, and what
may be; OVO
Sound’s roster
has a sizeable
collection
of artists
who foster
this sound,
Drake most
notoriously
being the
maestro of
this aesthetic
among them. Taking on the
mantle from the Champagne Papi
himelf, PARTYNEXTDOOR’s
first single off his much awaited
project, P3, is the latest example
of the histrionic gunslinging of
emotions that the two artists
have become well known for.

While “Come And See Me”

isn’t anything particularly
groundbreaking or new in
its content or aesthetic, it’s

a reassuring message from
PND, giving fans of his hope
after 2014’s critically panned
PNDCOLOURS, his last major
release. Reminiscent of PND’s
emotional “Kehlani’s Freestyle/
Things & Such,” the Noah “40”
Shebib produced track is a great
backdrop for PND and Drake’s
signature lamenting lyricism and
emotional sound. PND claims
“I’ll admit I’m sorry when I’m
truly sorry,” and Drake suggests,
“I know you got another nigga

tryna play the part / Just cause
he got a heart don’t mean he got
heart.”

PND is working with his

bread and butter in “Come And
See Me.” That might garner
some critics, and it may leave
something to be desired for some
listeners. But all in all, the soulful
arrangement of “Come And See
Me” is a great move if he wants to
safely drum up hype before P3’s
release.

- ANAY KATYAL

B+

Come and
See me
feat. Drake

PARTYNEXT-
DOOR
OVO SOUNDS

CHECK OUT EVEN MORE ARTS

ARTICLES ONLINE AT

MICHIGANDAILY.COM/SECTION/ARTS

“This really
could change

the whole
trajectory.”

Back to Top

© 2024 Regents of the University of Michigan