I am going to start off
by saying that this review
will be written in a rather
unconventional way. I usually
try to remove myself from the
performance and the artist
when critiquing, try to paint a
picture of the audience and the
atmosphere of the place — I try
to connect the performance to
something that everyone can
relate to. I saw the incredible
Audra McDonald perform on
the eve of my 19th birthday and
the performance easily broke
through my journalistic shell,
completely penetrating into my
body and touching my heart in a
way that no other performance
has, so it would be unfair for
me to even try and write an
objective review.
As
I
walked
into
Hill
Auditorium to see the six-
time
Tony
Award
winning
singer and actress, I was not
prepared to be as affected by
the performance as I was. For
one, the set was comprised of
a single stool and her band.
It was peculiar seeing such a
simple and bare-minimum set
in such a large, elaborate space.
Mark Vanderpoel took the bass
tenderly in his hands, Gene
Lewinsat at the drums and
Andy Einhorn — an incredible
and
well-established
music
director — asserted himself at
the piano, all of them dressed in
fine evening wear.
Hill Auditorium was packed,
with no empty seats in sight.
It
seemed
impossible
that
one person could fill such a
massive space with her voice
and presence. Tension rose in
the eager audience waiting for
the famed McDonald to come
out, and when she did, her
presence automatically lit the
stage, and the audience came to
life. Applause roared from the
audience, before she even got
a chance to sing a song or tell a
story.
McDonald’s voice in every
song was incredible; it was
almost maddening. Her sweet
vibrato echoed through Hill
Auditorium with such power.
She made every single piece
her own, putting her own spin
on it. Pieces that I have heard
a great deal, like “Vanilla Ice
Cream” from “She Loves Me,”
or “I Could’ve Danced all
Night” from “My Fair Lady”
— extremely popular songs
found in the arsenals of many
sopranos — were captured in
a different and intriguing way.
Even though I am very familiar
with the plots surrounding
most of the songs, McDonald
sung them in a way where it felt
as if I was listening to them for
the first time. Through placing
emphasis on different lyrics
than usual and putting a new
spin on the vocal tone used
to sing the piece, I took away
something new from the songs
in her set.
Her
set
included
the
borderline
classical
song,
“Summertime”
from
“Porgy
and Bess,” which she sang
magnificently
without
a
microphone,
in
traditional
classical style. She sang two
of my personal favorites from
her repertoire, “Stars and the
Moon” from “Songs for a New
World” and “I Won’t Mind”
from “The Other Franklin.”
These songs are difficult to
sing (I know from personal
experience) because they are
wordy and vocally challenging
at
the
same
time.
These
challenges
seemed
to
have
not phased McDonald, as she
sang both songs as if they were
an extension of her normal
speaking voice.
What was most impressive
was
McDonald’s
incredible
ability to tell stories. This is
what
set
her
performance
apart from any another that I
have seen. McDonald shared
anecdotes
of
her
life
and
anecdotes of memories she
shared with the lives of others.
She uses the power of her voice
and her talent for storytelling
through words and songs to
touch the hearts of audiences
everywhere,
whether
it
be
telling her own stories or telling
the stories of others. What had
really caused me to enter a state
of raw emotion is how much of
myself I saw in her. It was almost
like watching the future that I
want for myself play out in front
of my eyes. Even more nerve-
wracking, she took me through
this journey, reminiscing and
reflecting on all the things I
have accomplished throughout
my life in one of the most
effective
mediums:
song.
While McDonald’s storytelling
was
incredible,
what
truly
completed the story was the use
of song.
Yet, I was haunted by the
fact
that
every
story
that
McDonald told hit so close to
home. It became impossible
for me to remain objective and
composed. There were so many
parallels between her life and
mine that it felt unnerving at
times to listen to them.
I grew up in New York
City, and went to Fiorello H.
LaGuardia
High
School
of
Music & Art and Performing
Arts, where I studied vocal
music. I knew too well the
stories that McDonald told
about being in a performing arts
school. There were moments
that we shared, such as a quirky
story about her singing an age-
inappropriate jazz song for
a competition when she was
14-years-old, which was told
in the perspective of a sexually
frustrated housewife.
It was fitting, with it being
ISABELLE HASSLUND
Daily Arts Writer
Me, myself and the wonder of Audra McDonald
COMMUNITY CULTURE SPOTLIGHT
my 19th birthday, as I looked
back on my time when I first
started at a performing arts
high school, and how I would
just sing for fun. I sang because
that is what I loved to do, and
I did not care about whether a
song was age appropriate or if
anyone approved of my venture
into the arts because it’s what
I loved and knew. As I grew
older, it seemed as if more and
more obstacles got in the way
of this dream. I grew up on
Broadway, whether it was going
to the theater and watching
shows or watching YouTube
videos
of
Broadway
stars,
including Audra McDonald. I
remember fully believing that
Broadway was where I was
headed and destined for. As I
grew more and continued on
my performing career in high
school to now, I started to lose
sight of that dream as more
and more obstacles seemed to
get in my way. Whether it was
being a woman of color having
to work harder than my white
counterparts for a lead in a
show, it occasionally felt like
my performance was ever good
enough.
McDonald
reminded
me,
as a young performer, of why
I started singing in the first
place. As I sat and watched her
perform,
seemingly
without
inhibitions, it got me thinking
as to where along the way I lost
my sentiment and will to sing.
It reminded me that I sing for
myself and that people want to
hear others sing. Of course, it
would be extremely difficult —
almost impossible, in my mind,
to reach the level of fluency
that McDonald has reached in
her career through hard work
and a gifted voice, but seeing
McDonald as a human with
real stories to tell and a real,
raw voice was enough to get me
motivated to try and reach for
that level.
The most intriguing thing is
that during this performance,
it felt as if I was having this
personal
connection
and
conversation with her and so
did others around me. I had
never seen so many people
get teary-eyed at a rendition
of
“Somewhere
Over
the
Rainbow.” Hill Auditorium did
not seem so big anymore. It was
as if I was back in kindergarten
again, arranged in a circle and
listening to stories told by my
teacher attentively, sitting at
the edge of my seat. It was as if I
was sitting with my mother, an
English teacher, and listening
to her tell me stories in both
song and book. I felt at home
and nostalgic.
What I took away from Audra
McDonald’s performance was
a message of hope and love.
She had used her voice to
empower the audience, and she
expressed her message of hope
and love for the generations
to come, saying that as young
performers and young people
in general, she has faith in us
to fix what has been botched by
previous generations. She urged
those in power and in a higher
position to nurture the coming
generations, singing the fitting
song “Children Will Listen”
from “Into the Woods.” There
was message of love to be found
for all audience members. The
concert was more than just a
journey through the American
Songbook, it was a beautiful
performance that has taught
me so much about who I am and
who I want to become.
FLICKR
6A — Monday, November 26, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com