The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, October 30, 2018 — 5
Ironically
enough,
with
the release of Be The Cowboy,
Mitski’s most experimental
and
pop-inflected
album
to date, Mitski has finally
become the true rock ‘n’ roll
star she was clearly born to be.
Untethered from her guitar
with a full band and backing
tracks,
Mitski
completely
owned the stage and attention
of the audience, diving deep
into the emotionality of her
music with a newly developed,
incredibly
intense
stage
presence.
In
an
interview
with The Fader, Mitski said,
“How can I use my voice as
an instrument and make this
interesting?” and she delivers
on all fronts when it’s the only
instrument she’s focusing on.
Only
limited
by
the
struggling sound system of
a club venue like The Magic
Stick,
Mitski
brought
her
new material to life this past
Tuesday among a surprising
number of deep cuts from her
earlier
material,
including
tracks
like
“Townie”
and
“First Love / Late Spring,”
closing with “Goodbye, My
Danish Sweetheart,” which
elicited much screaming and
excitement from the crowd.
Surprisingly,
Mitski
only
has three full-length studio
albums under her name, yet her
21-song set felt surprisingly
evolutionary for such a young
artist; she flashed all of her
best facets within an hour
and a half, revealing growth
not only in songwriting but in
performance as well.
Yet, this is precisely the
unfortunate
paradox
of
a
Mitski
performance:
She
played a full set spanning her
entire career, and it still left
me wanting more. This isn’t
to the fault of the artist, but
speaks more to the fact that
the only way to be satisfied
by a Mitski set is a full three
hours to perform her entire
catalogue. I was heartbroken
that “Fireworks” had lost its
spot in her setlists, while I
heard others mourn the losses
of “A Burning Hill” and “Texas
Reznikoff.” Simply put, she’s
that talented, and while her
set
perfectly
exemplified
her growth as an artist, her
individual
tracks
are
too
nuanced to not notice when
they’re missing.
Regardless of these selfish
tendencies
of
her
fans,
Mitski’s
live
performances
are spectacular, and her vocal
abilities and new emotional
investment
in
movement
contribute to her magnetic
nature. Her control of volume
in particular weighed heavily
on the room’s atmosphere; she
can just as easily overpower
the
room
with
bellowing,
soaring vocals like those of
“Geyser” as she can softly tease
out sadness and nostalgia as
witnessed during “Two Slow
Dancers,” which completely
silenced the crowd.
While her older songs more
or less carry an indie-rock
sound with them, her newer
material added the perfect
amount of diversity to her
setlist.
Playing
“Washing
Machine Heart” only three
songs into the set, the crowd
bobbed
and
swayed
with
the
disjointed
synth
and
drum lines, which perfectly
accent her soft ruminations
before the song falls into an
elegant melody over it all.
It’s an aching song masked
in some of the most inventive
pop music written this year,
and her delivery perfectly
mirrored this. She proceeded
to pull this off several more
times, especially with singles
“Geyser” and “Nobody” which
both pull from a similar vein
of songwriting style.
Having sold out The Magic
Stick weeks in advance of the
concert, it’d be shocking if
Mitski doesn’t start to take
I am 16 years old, standing
on
West
40th
Street
in
Manhattan,
freezing
and
naive. There’s a Dec. chill in
the air, a longing beating in my
chest and a day-of Broadway
ticket burning a hole through
my jacket pocket. My hands
reach for the door in front of
my wide eyes and pink nose
and I exhale. I stare up at the
published plays and musicals
lining the shelves and wonder
what it would take to get my
name printed down one of the
slim, glossy spines. In that
moment, I commit myself to
the goal of making it here. This
is my first time in New York
City’s The Drama Book Shop.
Anyone
who
knows
me
knows that my two greatest
loves are theatre and books.
I cannot choose between the
two, because they share my
affection
both
passionately
and evenly. If you get me
started on either topic, I’m
likely to never stop ranting on
some romantic diatribe about
one or the other or both. The
Drama Book Shop marries the
comfort and security I feel in
a bookstore with the magic
and passion the theatre brings
me. They have 8,000 original
plays in stock — waiting to
be read, waiting to be picked
up, waiting to live. The shop
nurtures and sponsors new
and established playwrights
alike with a 50-seat theatre
in
the
basement
for
new
performances, workshops and
trial runs. It’s a theatre inside
a bookstore — one inside of the
other, like the Russian doll of
my dreams. Walk through the
front doors and be in the arms
of the playwright — ready to
be transported to whatever
world you so choose as you
scan the shelves. Moments
later, descend a flight of stairs
and be removed from reality
entirely as you’re inspired
and pushed as an artist and
a human being. New work is
enthralling. It is imaginative
and
energizing.
There
is
no place quite like this one
anywhere in the world. When
I’m leaving The Drama Book
Shop, my backpack weighed
down by a few new plays and
perhaps another book or two
that caught my eye on my
way to the checkout, I wish to
bottle up the feeling the place
gives me. For the fear and the
knowledge that there’s no
other place like it in the world.
The
Drama
Book
Shop,
for me and for so many other
creators, is what some call
a home away from home.
The people who have passed
through those doors — artists,
visionaries,
appreciators,
designers and tourists — all
share a universal love for
theatre. This is not your normal
bookstore; it is the safe haven
for theatre lovers and readers.
It is specifically unique and a
wild idiosyncrasy: a bookstore
for
plays,
bulletins
with
audition listings lining the
wooden walls, musical scripts,
biographies,
guides
and
history books filling the place
like air. This store is a staple in
the theatre community. It has
thrived in Manhattan for over
100 years. Like oxygen and
water, it fulfills a specific need
for so many of us. Theatre
people need to be brought
together with other theatre
people because collaboration
is where the magic happens.
Theatre
people
understand
the rise and fall, the trial and
error, the effortless pushing
and pushing and pushing to
break through into something
magnificent.
So it comes as a heartbreak,
and somewhat of a personal
tragedy for me, to see that
The Drama Book Shop has had
to announce that it is being
forced out of its home (not
its first location, but the only
location I’ve ever known) due
to New York’s classic rising
rents. Patrons and theatre-
goers and customers of the
shop have flooded the store’s
moderately-sized
interior
since,
declaring
they
will
spend as much money as they
can to attempt to make even
the smallest dent in the shop’s
rent cost. In addition, Lin
Manuel Miranda, who wrote
much of “In The Heights” in
that very The Drama Book
Shop basement, stopped by the
store recently to sign copies
of everything with his name
on it. But even then, with this
outpouring of support, the
owners are unsure if they’ll be
able to stay afloat.
For
some
people,
Pete
Davidson and Ariana Grande’s
breakup or Kim Kardashian
losing a diamond earring in a
tropical destination overseas
hits hard, but in the past few
days, I’ve held back tears more
than once thinking of one of
my favorite places in the world
closing its doors, potentially
ELI RALLO
Daily Arts Writer
Courtesy of The Drama Book Shop
Anyone who
knows me
knows that my
two greatest
loves are theatre
and books. I
cannot choose
between the
two, because
they share my
affection both
passionately and
evenly
CONCERT REVIEW
Mitski achieves rock star status at The Magic Stick
DEAD OCEANS
DEAD OCEANS
COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK
A love letter to New York City’s The Drama Book Shop
for good. As a playwright
and a theatre creator and an
avid reader, I’m constantly
terrified nobody will ever
read my plays or stories, and
that one day soon there will
be nowhere to see them on
shelves. I wonder where the
childhood dream of being
published on a shelf at The
Drama Book Shop will go long
after they’re gone. I wonder
what young playwrights are
supposed to do in a world that
doesn’t seem to be buying
enough
plays.
I
wonder
how we’re supposed to find
communities or little safe
havens in cities as large and
looming as New York, if our
safe spaces are struggling
to survive. I wonder what
this says about our society
— one where it’s becoming
increasingly easier to choose
online ordering to standing
outside on a cold Dec. day and
waiting for The Drama Book
Shop to open. Everything is an
iPhone click away — all of our
books and words and human
moments. I fear there’s no
solution.
I want my children to see
The Drama Book Shop and I
want them to get the feeling I
do when I go there: empowered
as an artist, thrilled that
places exist to celebrate our
artistry
and
excited
that
there are communities for
burgeoning
playwrights.
I
want so desperately for my
children to know book shops
— independent book shops
— or something, anything
other than Amazon Prime. I
feel foolish by adding to the
problem. How easy it is to
send myself books and plays
from the comfort of my bed,
and I feverishly and angrily
decide to stop doing it all
together. I need to walk to a
bookstore, to open the door
and feel at home in its warm
glow, a feeling I lose when I
order online. I am terrified
that we are going to Amazon-
Prime away the experience
of independent bookstores. I
wonder again if there’s a way
to bottle up the feeling of The
Drama Book Shop so I can hold
it near when I’m longing for it
halfway across the country, or
in a few months, when it says
its forced goodbyes.
But more than this, and
maybe selfishly so, I’m sad that
there’s a very real potential
that I’ll never have the chance
to see my own plays lining a
shelf. That there will never
come a day that a young, naive,
freezing-cold girl with a day-
of Broadway ticket burning a
hole in her pocket stares up
at my name printed on the
sleek, slim spines, wondering
if maybe one day, that will be
her, too.
I wonder
how we’re
supposed to find
communities
or little safe
havens in cities
as large and
looming as New
York, if our
safe spaces are
struggling to
survive
Mitski only
has three full-
length studio
albums under
her name, yet
her 21-song set
felt surprisingly
evolutionary for
such a young
artist; she
flashed all of
her best facets
within an hour
and a half
her shows to larger venues
that can better accommodate
her demanding vocal range
and complex arrangements.
But for now, she continues to
put out incredible work that is
deeply moving to see delivered
live. Mitski is an artist that
has proved her dedication to
her art time and time again,
and it seeps into every aspect
of her shows, from her dancing
and singing to her interaction
with the crowd. Mitski is truly
loved by her fans, and based
on last week’s performance,
it’s likely she truly loves them
back.
DOMINIC POLSINELLI
Senior Arts Editor