The Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre 
was buzzing with excitement, 
as the audience was antsy to see 
another spectacular performance 
put on by the University’s School of 
Music, Theatre & Dance (SMTD). 
The energy in the room bounced 
off the bright red curtain that fell 
so elegantly, covering the floral, 
colorful, ’60s flower-power set of 
“Sweet Charity.”
“Sweet Charity” is a musical 
based on an original screenplay by 
Frederico Fellini, written by comic 
playwright Neil Simon, with lyrics 
by Dorothy Fields and music by Cy 
Coleman. It debuted on Broadway 
in 1966, choreographed by the 
iconic Bob Fosse (known for the 
dance masterpieces “Cabaret” and 
“Chicago”). The show’s history 
boasts four-time Tony Award-
winning actress Gwen Verdon as 
one of its stars. Many tunes from 
“Sweet Charity” have made it 
into the mainstream, such as “Big 
Spender” and “If My Friends Could 
See Me Now.” 
The musical follows the story 
of a woman named Charity Hope 
Valentine, a dance-hall hostess 
who thirsts to find a partner who 
would not pay much mind to her 
taboo job. In comes skittish tax-
account, Oscar Lindquist, who 
seems to be Charity’s chance at 
love, at last. 
Charity Hope Valentine, the 
fun-loving dance hall hostess 
desperately searching for love, is 
played by Nevada Koenig, a senior 
BFA Musical Theatre major. Koenig 
displayed her dance skill with an 
impressive performance of the 
Fosse-inspired movements. While 
even some of the most experienced 
performers struggle with the subtle 
movements of the Bob Fosse style 
on the big stage, Koenig was able to 
successfully make every movement 
effective. She makes movement 
informed by the bubbly demeanor 
of Charity Hope Valentine. Fosse 

choreography lends itself to being 
sensual. However, Koenig put her 
own spin on the dance, making 
the movements appear innocent 
and playful. When the curtains 
open and we first see Charity, she 
uses movement to set the mood 
of the entire musical. It was truly 
incredible that Koenig could get 
the audience to giggle and laugh by 
using her witty movement.
Although Koenig’s movement 
was impressive, her performance 
lacked in acting skill, which was 
especially seen once the music 
stopped and transitioned into a 
scene. When she was left to be 
the character without the music 
backing her, Charity’s chipper 
demeanour greatly diminished 
and the energy sank. Without 
movement guiding Koenig, she 
became a less genuine actress. 
Her lines were not internalized, 
so when she delivered them, the 
performance came across as very 
rehearsed instead of playing with 
character development in the 
moment. This resulted in some 
comedic moments being washed 
over the audience. I left the theater 
without much of an impression of 
Charity. 
The 
energy 
that 
radiated 
off the stage came from the 
incredible 
ensemble 
members 
and supporting roles. One of the 
most impressive numbers was in 
the second act, “Rhythm of Life.” 
The ensemble filled the stage 
with extravagant hippie prints 
and a fun and contagious energy 
emanated from the stage. It was 
one of my favorite numbers of 
the entire show because of how 
much fun the cast was having, 
which transferred to the audience. 
Commodore Primous, who had a 
featured role as Daddy Brubeck, 
had an especially explosive and 
compelling performance, which 
was showcased in his interactions 
with other members of the cast 
during this number and his 
powerful movement. 
My favorite dance number 
was “Rich Man’s Frug.” The 

ensemble’s movements were sharp 
and effective, and this number 
showcased the incredible talent 
and versatility of the Department 
of Musical Theatre. I tremendously 
applaud 
Linda 
Goodrich, 
the 
choreographer of this production 
and associate professor in the 
Department of Musical Theatre, 
for her wonderful choreography. 
Throughout 
the 
entire 
show, 
I 
was 
thoroughly 
impressed 
with not only the execution of 
movement, but the creativity of the 
choreography. Goodrich was able 
to blend Fosse influence with her 
own personal style, which made 
the musical more accessible and 
fun to watch. It is worth buying 
tickets to see the movement for 
yourself. 
I was very impressed by the 
performances of Mikaela Secada, 
sophomore BFA Musical Theatre 
major 
and 
McKenzie 
Kurtz, 
senior BFA Musical Theatre, as 
Helene and Nickie, respectively. 
Helene and Nickie are dancers in 
the dance-hall that Charity works 
in, and they are Charity’s closest 
friends. Kurtz and Secada did an 
incredible job in embodying the 
sassiness and toughness of their 
characters, putting their own 
spins on them. Their authentic 
performance made them so much 
fun to watch. 
Another striking moment was 
when Blake Roman Bojewski, 
senior 
BFA 
Musical 
Theatre 
major, 
who 
played 
eccentric 
Italian moviestar Vittorio Vidale, 
opened his mouth to sing. His 
voice was incredibly enchanting. 
His performance of “Too Many 
Tomorrows” was moving and 
entrancing. His voice matched the 
hypnotizing smoothness of his 
character, as he showed off a more 
classical vocal style and color. 
SMTD’s Department of Musical 
Theatre, again, put on an enjoyable 
performance. 
“Sweet 
Charity” 
was a joy to watch, and I had a 
wonderful time marvelling at the 
great talent that we have right here 
on campus.

SMTD’s ‘Sweet Charity’ 
is a striking performance

ISABELLE HASSLUND
Daily Arts Writer

ALEXANDRIA POMPEI / DAILY

COURTESY OF NIKE

This July, Nike released 
a 
single 
image, 
meant 
to 
represent 
the 
cusp 
of 

something 
new. 
A 
sea 
of 
vacant black is punctuated by 
a luminous, gel-like structure 
outlining 
the 
character 
omega. 
The 
translucent 
white base graduates to an 
amalgam of electric magenta 

and 
cyan, 
which 
reflects 
itself onto a black heel barely 
distinguishable 
from 
the 
negative space that surrounds 
it. The picture communicates 
less of an upcoming shoe 
release than a re-centering shot 

Nike’s Air Max 720 takes 
steps toward the future

SAM KREMKE
For the Daily

COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW

of energy — the sun rising over 
a black monolith, set by the 
sepia-toned haze of a sneaker 
market flooded with archival 
releases and lazy mash ups. 
Stanley 
Kubrick’s 
“2001: 
A Space Odyssey” explores 
the exciting new trajectories 
brought 
about 
by 
the 
technological 
age, 
while 
addressing fears of its sterile, 
objective 
rigidity; 
Nike’s 
environmentally 
conscious 
intentions with the shoe are 
an appeal to the former. Their 
assertions of eco-benevolence 
as a corporate mega giant 
are a press-friendly spin on 
confronting waste issues that 
have gone unchecked until 
recent years.
Expected to release on Air 
Max Day (Nike’s designated 
anniversary of the massively 
successful 
line, 
celebrated 
on Mar. 26th) of next year, 
the shoe’s credentials pack 
an 
undeniable 
punch. 
As 
purported by their website, 
the 720 will boast the largest 
heel of any sneaker in history, 
allowing 
for 
unparalleled 
comfort 
and 
agility 
for 
a 
trainer or a person that’s going 
to be trotting around midtown 
all day. Using their Vapormax 
technology, 
they 
removed 
the need for a foam midsole 
(a 
significant 
waste-causer 
that’s problematic across the 

industry) and crafted the shoe 
out of about 75% recycled 
materials. It should also be 
noted that Nike is committed 
to using dying processes for the 
shoe that allow for virtually no 
water pollution and upcycling 
about 95% of sourced materials. 
With yearly plastic production 
projected to clock in at over 
half a billion tonnes over the 
next few decades, the eco-
friendly race within sneaker 
and fashion communities is 
no longer just about feel-good 
PR or appealing to a vocal 
minority. 
It should go without saying 
that reckless industry and 
consumerism has run up a 
tab on the environment that 
may not be easily paid off. 
According to a recent study at 
MIT, the average lightweight 
running shoe (like the ones 
that, according to a tweet 
by Matt Powell, Nike sells 
at a rate of about 25 per 
second) produces almost 30 
pounds of carbonic waste and 
existing processes are greatly 
contributing to the plastic 
barge in the ocean that will 
outweigh the total underwater 
life count in terms of weight by 
2050. Currently at its zenith 
with about 20 billion pairs of 
shoes coming off the line each 
year, “drop” culture and its 
perpetrators have an ethical 

responsibility 
to 
implement 
procedures that reduce waste 
from the standpoint of both 
material and the construction 
itself. 
While they may not be 
leading that charge, the Air 
Max 720 is a powerful step 
forward. In light of the IPCC’s 
recent 
report 
indicating 
that a concerted effort will 
have to be made in order to 
prevent 
permanent 
damage 
do the environment over the 
next century, it’s heartening 
to 
see 
titans 
of 
industry, 
like 
Nike, 
create 
products 
that acknowledge the dire 
circumstances under which 
contemporary industries are 
working. The introduction of 
new technology (coupled with, 
hopefully, 
a 
slower-paced 
sneaker release calendar in 
coming years) that is attractive, 
ethical and sustainable from 
the 
market’s 
leader 
will 
undoubtedly have an impact 
on future developments from 
competitors as well as habits 
of the consumer. The 21st 
century may be sold separately 
from a Pan Am sponsored 
trip to Jupiter or AI that has 
a pragmatic take on human 
life, but Nike’s retro-futuristic 
installment of footwear will at 
least have the aesthetic chops 
to sit next to those fabulous 
Djinn chairs. 

STYLE REVIEW

REPRISE RECORDS

“I know, no one’s going to 
show me everything / We all 
come and go unknown / Each so 
deep and superficial / Between 
the forceps and the stone.”
This 
is 
my 
favorite 
line 
from 
Joni 
Mitchell’s 
entire 
discography. It’s part of the 
title track off her 1974 album 
Hejira, a record full of longing 
and grit and beauty that is often 
overlooked in the great scape of 
her work at large. But it’s this 
line, this articulation of the 
uncertainty of life, that has stuck 
with me from the first time I 
heard it. Above everything she 
has done, Mitchell’s haunting 
voice captures the calm that 
comes 
from 
understanding 
the 
simultaneous 
grandeur 
and microcosm of the human 
experience. We are both deep 
and superficial, all unknown, all 
in limbo between birth and death 
at any given moment. In this 
statement, I have found strength 
and calm throughout some of 
the most difficult periods of 
my life. The relationship I have 
with Joni Mitchell has changed 
over the years, but ultimately 
it comes down to that line, and 
the message it represents carries 
across much of her work: No 
matter who you are, what you 
do, or where you go, we are all 
here together, and we might as 
well find something deeper in 
the world around us. As a young 
woman growing up in a time 
where it’s sometimes hard to 
find the truth in popular music, 
Mitchell offered a sense of 
perspective on a larger scale, and 
for that, I will always be grateful.
Anyone who has ever had a 
conversation about music with 
me knows I love Joni; she is 
a puzzle and a master at the 
same time, an artist who has 
taught me more than even she 
could understand. Though I 
grew up with Mitchell’s hits 
like “California” and “River” 
playing throughout my house, 
it wasn’t until I had some of my 
own life experiences that I could 
truly appreciate her genius. I 
discovered her fully in the first 
few years of high school, which 

were arguably some of the 
darkest times I’ve been through. 
Being a teenage girl can often 
feel like a living nightmare, and 
I dealt with both chronic illness 
and depression on top of that. 
During those rough years, Joni 
was a friend, a mother and a 
prophet for me in a period where 
I desperately needed something 
to hold onto. For me at that point, 
Joni Mitchell’s music was both 
a salve and a lens to see myself 
through, an aid in understanding 
that accepting the future as it is 

provides more than trying to fix 
it in place.
Mitchell’s own story serves as 
a perfect example of strength and 
success in spite of a difficult past: 
She had a baby at 20 and gave her 
up, a choice alluded to in Blue’s 
“Little Green.” She went through 
a divorce at an incredibly young 
age, stood back up and became 
an unstoppable force in modern 
folk music. She is revered not 
only for her incredible talent for 
lyrics and music, but also her 
uncanny ability to synthesize her 
own experiences into universally 
applicable narratives. At the 
foundation of Mitchell’s work 
is a rock-solid sense of self, 
something that everyone who 
listens to her music cannot 
ignore. 
The 
songwriter 
has 
always known who she was, 
and while I was trying to find 
my own identity, her steadfast 
analysis of the toils and joys of 
her own life gave me hope that 
I would one day understand 
myself. I recommend her music 
to every young girl because of 
this: Though it may seem dense 

or weird at first, Mitchell’s heart 
is clearly in everything she has 
made, and a shining example of 
how vulnerability can be just as 
powerful as defense.
While that era of my life 
is fortunately over and I am 
happier 
and 
healthier 
than 
I’ve ever been, I firmly believe 
that the lessons I learned from 
Mitchell’s 
throughout 
those 
struggles will stay with me for 
a very long time. There’s a song 
on her third record Ladies of 
the Canyon called “The Circle 
Game” that details the cyclical 
nature of life, explaining that 
“We’re captive on the carousel 
of time / We can’t return we can 
only look behind / From where 
we came / And go round and 
round and round / In the circle 
game.” Here, Mitchell comments 
on the value of looking behind 
at the past to understand the 
present and future, something 
that serves as a window to much 
of her work. In every album that 
she has written, the singer takes 
stories from her own life and 
observations from the world 
around her and turns them into 
proverbs for the years to come.
We have all been at a party 
sitting by ourselves (“People’s 
Parties,” 
Court 
and 
Spark), 
watched mundane life with 
awe (“The Hissing of Summer 
Lawns,” The Hissing of Summer 
Lawns) or felt misunderstood 
by romantic partners (“Woman 
of Heart and Mind,” For the 
Roses). 
In 
these 
narratives, 
Mitchell taught me resilience 
and patience with myself and my 
idea of the future. Though it is 
easy to rush through your days 
with an intense focus, it is in 
noticing the beauty and sadness 
of life that we can learn the most. 
Joni Mitchell’s music serves as a 
book of parables if you look hard 
enough, all set to piano, guitar 
and her singular voice. For those 
who have never listened to her, I 
offer this to you: Be ready to open 
your heart and mind, because 
fully understanding Mitchell is 
impossible, but trying will teach 
you more about yourself than 
you would ever expect.

Joni and I

DAILY GENDER & MEDIA COLUMN

CLARA 
SCOTT

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, October 19, 2018 — 6A

