The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the b-side
Thursday, March 9, 2017 — 5B
COURTESY OF CANTERBURY HOUSE
A Night For Us: Love &
activism at Canterbury
Ann Arbor’s own Canterbury House fashions itself as an
earnest refuge and community for University music students
There’s a small episcopal
church that resides on East
Huron Street that few remark
upon when passing it. It goes
unnoticed for the most part,
its plain demeanor disguising
itself within the rows and rows
of college residences. But this
church, strangely enough, has
a been a home for generations
of students passing through the
University of Michigan, where
jazz
students
and
regional
bands alike have gathered to
perform, celebrate, study and —
most importantly — eat.
Canterbury House has seen
the likes of Neil Young and Janis
Joplin grace its interior since
its inception over fifty years
ago, and today features musical
series
highlighting
artists
from
within
the
university
and
beyond.
But
according
to School of Music, Theatre
& Dance sophomore Alexis
Lombre, something was still
missing from Canterbury and
from the University as a whole
at the beginning of the year:
community. A community for
artists of color and a community
to break down the academic
barriers of SMTD — this is what
Lombre strived to create, and
what she has only started to this
year.
“Each program within the
school is kind of segregated;
actors hang with actors; jazz
musicians hang with the jazz
musicians; vocalists spend time
with vocalists,” Lombre said in
a phone interview. “I wanted
a space where we could bring
everyone together; you could
throw some creative writers in
there, just have some people of
color who just like the arts, and
have a community.”
But to create this community,
she had to start somewhere.
After
the
chaplain
of
the
episcopal center offered up
the space to Lombre this past
fall, she took advantage of it
and put on the first “A Night
for Us: Colorful Soul.” For the
first
two
months,
however,
participation
was
sparse.
She paid for expenses out of
pocket and negotiated student
performances through her own
means.
And then it took off. Come
November,
participation
doubled and from the Lombre’s
desire for a community for
artists of color at the University
sprang the group Artists of
Color in Ann Arbor. Both a way
to receive money and bolster the
impact of the series, this group
has only begun to foster the
much needed support network
between artists of color at
the University, a community
Lombre found noticeably absent
her freshman year.
“It’s a different type of
attitude that I’d like to see here in
Ann Arbor, a place where people
really have a place for artists of
color to hangout and for people
of color to just be themselves,”
Lombre said. “Because there
are a lot of initiatives that are
kind of … stocky. There’s a room
with lighting that’s awkward
because it still feels like I’m in
school, and nobody wants that.
Nobody actually wants to hang
out at school. You want to go out
somewhere.”
But the music is only one part
of the soul. The food is the other,
vital part.
“That’s why we always have
soul food there; soul food
just brings a different type of
attitude instead of having plates
of cheese and crackers and
shrimp cocktails,” she said.
It’s
this
transformation
from stocky to soulful, tense
to chill that creates the unique
atmosphere
of
Lombre’s
series. Community, especially
a welcoming one, invites a
kind
of
electric
relaxation
between friends and strangers
alike.
Which
is
Lombre’s
goal ultimately — to foster an
environment
that
supports
artists and people of color
through music, food and groove.
“I think this event is a very
organic and authentic way for
people who haven’t experienced
culture of people of color to
really experience it within their
own comfort zone,” Lombre
continued.
And in its most fundamental
sense,
Lombre’s
series
champions
simultaneous
activism and celebration. It is
meant to inspire and facilitate
a molding of divisions on our
campus and others. Because
even though this event is young,
a sprouting bud among the
many campaigns and initiatives
to arise on campus since the
election, it is also boundless
with Lombre at its stern.
“I am not the type of person
who wants to keep anything
small,” Lombre said. “I’m a
dreamer, and I would love to see
it grow. Eventually one of my
dreams is to have it as a campus
college tour where different
campuses get ‘A Night for Us.’”
It’s an ambitious plan, but
one with potential. Campus has
its divisions, as do many others,
but this community is one step
in the right direction towards
healing them. While her vision
for this community is one rooted
in celebration and support for
artists and people of color on
campus, it is also meant to heal.
“The way I want to bring the
political (divisions) together is
not in a harsh, protesting type
of way because there’s a lot of
people doing that. My way is to
basically invite everyone into
your home and treat them really
well to help them realize that
people of color are welcoming,”
Lombre added. “We should just
care about each other, and that
will change things.”
And
Lombre,
along
with
her fellow students helping to
grow the community, is caring.
Artists of Color in Ann Arbor
— the organization that both
sprung from this series and
allows it to subsist — has grown
since its inception in November.
Partnering with the art and
social
justice
organization
Redefine, areas of Greek Life
and several other organizations,
ACAA supports the series, but
the series is only the beginning.
“At the bare minimum, at the
least by the time I graduate,
folks of color and artists of color
will know that they have a home
at the University of Michigan.
That’s the bare minimum,”
Lombre said.
But the bare minimum is just
that — bare. A community and
a series like this has room to
grow and the power to actively
change the social climate on
campus, a climate born more
from fear of the unfamiliar than
from anything else. Because, as
Lombre explained, the idea for
this series was born from anger
and frustration. But this anger
and
negativity
transformed
itself
into
a
positive,
life-
affirming event.
So consider this a call for art
as well as a call for community.
To the creators, the artists,
the
people
of
color
who
have something to proclaim
and
proclaim
proudly,
this
community is here for you.
“I’m
open
to
musicians,
I’m open to a group of actors
who want to do monologues,”
Lombre said. “I’m open to poets,
spoken word people. I’m open to
any type of art — producers, if
you want to do a DJ set, I don’t
care. Anybody.”
The next “A Night for Us:
Colorful Soul” will be taking
place
Thursday,
March
30
from 7 to 10 p.m. at Canterbury
House, located at 721 E Huron
Street. Come for the music, stay
for the mac ‘n’ cheese and peach
cobbler. It’s a place to celebrate,
groove and to meet people and
hear stories that are worthy of
our unworthy ears.
NATALIE ZAK
Managing Arts Editor
PWR BTTM, Against Me!
& more fight for LGBT art
Created by and starring two Detroit natives, Comedy Central’s
newest sitcom puts the Motor City on display in all its comedic glory
Music, above all other forms
of art, has a uniquely communal
quality to its consumption.
In its innate ability to bring
communities together, music
is a powerful force of social
cohesion, naturally bringing
rise to activism in the artists
and fans alike.
From anti-fascism in early
punk to powerful racial themes
in hip-hop, music has long been
one of the most socially active
forms of art. Lately, there’s
been
a
prominent
increase
in LGBT activism in today’s
popular music scene.
Across multiple genres, the
LGBT community has received
increased
representation
in
today’s musicians: Prominent
LGBT artists include Against
Me! frontwoman Laura Jane
Grace,
who
has
become
a
powerful
transgender
figurehead in punk rock, PWR
BTTM, with their raw, catchy
lyricism and unabashedly queer
aesthetic and Julien Baker
reconciling her identity with
her upbringing in Memphis.
This
outspoken
support
for the LGBT community is
largely provided by smaller,
indie artists — those with the
dedicated community of fans
who supply the means of making
real change at the ground level.
With their rise in popularity,
PWR BTTM in particular has
begun to bring together the
LGBT
and
ally
community
alike, writing music through an
LGBT lens that can be enjoyed
by people of many different
identities. It’s an incredibly
humanizing
experience
to
watch the queerness of an artist
develop increasing recognition
and
influence
on
music’s
mainstream.
Recently,
PWR
BTTM
dropped the first two singles
from their forthcoming record
Pageant, the first of which —
bright, pop-y “Big Beautiful
Day” — addresses the people
whose judgment of others is
(obviously) unmerited. On the
chorus, the band sings, “Curse
every one of you who tells me
that I cannot be who I want /
Ain’t no fucking way you’ll fuck
up my big beautiful day” — a
line so infectiously defiant I
grinned to myself the first time
I heard it.
PWR BTTM has even been
directly combating homophobia
on tour. Barely a week after
the presidential election, anti-
LGBT protesters picketed their
show in Jackson, Mississippi
— to which Ben Hopkins, one
half of the duo, tweeted, “this is
happening at the show tn. I am
completely unafraid; I am sad
for them,” and included a photo
of himself giving the group
a middle finger. The band’s
courageous representation of
their own identities continues
to permeate the attitudes of
their fans, placing themselves at
the forefront of LGBT activism
in music today.
On a tour last year, Modern
Baseball
—
consisting
entirely
of
straight
white
men — released a statement
adressing their demand that
every venue they play supply
gender
inclusive
restrooms
and included a hotline for fans
to call to report incidences of
harassment or discrimination
at the shows, a safety net for
fans originally implemented by
Speedy Ortiz to wide acclaim.
Now, more than ever, artists
are showing their dedication
to combating the increasing
likelihood that those within
the LGBT community will face
very real repression in today’s
America, and Modern Baseball
is setting the example for allies
showing their support.
Laura Jane Grace has been
shattering social barriers since
the inception of Against Me!
in the ’90s with its progressive
anarcho-punk themes. Coming
out as transgender in 2012, Grace
continues to shatter barriers
for the LGBT community. With
2014’s Transgender Dysphoria
Blues, arguably one of the most
important activist records in
recent memory, she gave the
world an emotional glimpse at
being a transgender musician.
Expanding on her story, she
also
released
her
stunning
memoir “Tranny” last year,
detailing her early experiences
with gender dysphoria and
the struggles that come with
it. In spiteful backlash of the
transphobic Public Facilities
Privacy
and
Security
Act
passed
in
North
Carolina,
Grace gleefully lit her birth
certificate (containing her birth
name “Tom Gables”) on fire
during their show in the state.
The band also donated show
proceeds to LGBT charities,
which many other artists such
as Father John Misty and La
Dispute did in early 2016 for
their performances in the state.
This past December I saw
Kevin Devine and the Goddamn
Band perform with Pinegrove
and
Petal,
who
announced
that they would be collecting
donations for the Ruth Ellis
Center, a home for LGBT youth
in Detroit. Accepting anything
from cash to clothes, the artists
used their voice and power to
bring like-minded individuals
into one space in order to
bring about real, local change.
Mid set, addressing America’s
changing post-election social
state, queer artist Petal stated:
“Keep being yourself because
existing is a form of resistance,”
to eruptive applause. It’s these
strong, empowering statements
and
actions
from
artists,
whether their music is queer-
tinted or not, that continues
the positive changes in social
attitudes within and toward the
LGBT community.
Music, at its core, is an art
form that embodies emotional
expression.
When
these
emotions are used to make a
change,
impressively
potent
activism is formed. At the roots
of popular music, devoted fan
bases are rising up and coming
together to implement this
positive change, creating spaces
at shows that are safe for people
of all identities to come and
enjoy the art that emboldens
them to be themselves. Music
is becoming an outlet for LGBT
artists and fans to express and
exist, and it’s a force that shows
no signs of stopping.
FATHER/DAUGHTER RECORDS
DOMINIC POLSINELLI
Daily Arts Writer
Music, above all
other forms of art,
has a uniquely
communal quality
to its consumption
Music is
becoming an
outlet for LGBT
artists and fans to
express and exist
“It’s a different
type of attitude
that I’d like to
see here in Ann
Arbor, a place
where people
really have a
place for artists of
color to hangout
and for people of
color to just be
themselves”
Canterbury House
has seen the likes
of Neil Young and
Janis Joplin grace
its interior
It’s these strong,
empowering
statements and
actions from
artiststhat
continues the
positive changes
in social attitudes
within and
toward the LGBT
community
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