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February 26, 2019 - Image 6

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The Michigan Daily

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6 — Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

By Peter Koetters
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
02/26/19

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

02/26/19

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Tuesday, February 26, 2019

ACROSS
1 Brewery in
Golden, Colorado
6 Fast-food
package deal
11 Color variant
14 Gelatin garnish
15 French word of
farewell
16 24-hr. cash
source
17 *Wonderland
feline known for
disappearing
19 Nonstick spray
brand
20 “Hints from”
columnist
21 Weaken from
disuse
23 Manhattan area
to the right of
Central Park, on
maps
25 __ a soul
26 Corp. symbols
27 Stopgap remedy
31 Small jazz
groups
34 “Designing
Women” actress
Delta
35 Senate approval
36 One of a bath
towel pair
37 Rocky
outcroppings
38 Capone facial
mark
39 Prefix with dermis
40 Laundry slide
41 7-Down and such
42 Virus-transmitting
insect
44 __ Francisco
45 Sting or smart
46 Musical wrap-ups
51 Free sample
restriction
54 Title savant in
a 1988 Oscar-
winning film
55 Invest in
56 *Da Vinci’s “La
Gioconda,” to
some English
speakers
58 Scratch (out)
59 Dog-__: folded at
the corner
60 In finer fettle
61 “Absolutely”
62 Swiped
63 Gothenburg
native

DOWN
1 Secret stash
2 “Straight Outta
Compton” actor
__ Jackson Jr.
3 Some German
cars
4 Italian rice dishes
5 Religious rifts
6 Gave a darn
7 Neruda wrote
one to common
things
8 Layered mineral
9 ’50s-’60s
nonconformists
10 Run faster than
11 *“Have a nice
day” graphic
12 Great Salt Lake
state
13 TV award
18 Egyptian fertility
goddess
22 “Mork & Mindy”
planet
24 Largest ring of
latitude
28 Hard-to-ignore
impulse
29 Start of Popeye’s
existential
maxim
30 Gen-__: post-
boomers

31 The bad guys
32 Auctioned auto,
perhaps
33 *Celtic peepers
of song
34 Champagne
choice
37 Idle talk
38 Kin by marriage
40 Oversees, as a
gallery collection
41 Social outcasts
43 “__ Sera, Sera”
44 Stretch across

47 Slowly wear
down
48 Expression
shared by the
answers to
starred clues
49 Relaxed, as
rules
50 Hunter’s trap
51 Do as you’re told
52 Zap for dinner
53 Courageous one
57 Country singer
Tillis

Saturday night and Sunday
afternoon the Detroit Symphony
Orchestra brought to a close
their 2019 midwinter festival,
“American
Panorama,”
with
a program of music by three
American minimalist composers,
Steve Reich, Philip Glass and
John
Luther
Adams.
Aptly
titled “Maximum Minimal,” the
program embraced one of the
defining currents in American
classical music of the last half
century.
It’s
an
interesting
theme,
and one that is ripe with both
possibilities
and
challenges.
Minimalism, after all, is a term
that emcompasses a wide swath
of
composers
and
aesthetics,
and programing a single concert
dedicated to it would necessarily
require the omission of some of
the most interesting and evocative
music to fall under that category.
To do true justice to the theme one
would really need to dedicate an
entire festival to minimalism itself,
rather than one concert as part of
a larger festival — but under the
circumstances the DSO and Music
Director Laurate Leonard Slatkin
have done reasonably well with
the programming, in the sense
that the three pieces selected for
the performance touch on some of
the most prominent trends within
minimalism.
The
“American
Panorama”
festival itself, of course, was quite
an undertaking.
“This is the sixth (midwinter
festival) that I’ve done,” Slatkin
told me when we spoke over
the phone last week. Initially
conceived as a way to draw in
audiences during a traditionally-
lean
month
for
orchestra
attendance, the DSO began with
endeavors such as performing all
nine of Beethoven’s symphonies
over the course of a few weeks.
Last year the orchestra undertook
a French music themed festival.
And this year, American music —
a longtime interest of Slatkin’s —
came to the fore.
“What we have learned is that
this period of time, these three

weeks in February, have proved
to be both artistically satisfying
and very lucrative in terms of
being able to attract an audience,”
Slatkin said.
This year’s festival will likely
be the last midwinter festival with
Slatkin at the helm, as he has been
stepping away from his duties as
music director.
“I’ll be 75 soon, and it’s a lot of
work,” Slatkin said. “(But) I wanted
(my last midwinter festival) to
be dedicated to American music,
which makes sense, because it’s
been one of my passions for years.”
The
opener
of
Saturday’s
program
was
Steve
Reich’s
“Clapping
Music,”
a
short
1972
composition
performed
entirely by clapping. Written for
two people, “Clapping Music”
serves as an excellent example
of rhythmic minimalism, and
also an early example of Reich’s
technique of “phasing,” which he
developed further in subsequent
compositions.
Throughout
the duration of the piece, one
performer claps a single rhythmic
line over and over, while the
other performer claps this same
rhythmic line except offset by
one eighth note every eight or
12 bars. This process continues
until the performers are once
again clapping in unison, as in the
beginning of the piece.
For being such a far cry from
what one generally expects to
hear at an orchestral concert,
the audience received the piece
enthusiastically,
many
people
leaping to their feet at the end
of Joseph Becker and Andres
Pichardo’s
performance
on
Saturday night, which was tight
and controlled.
The Reich was followed by
a lessor-known work of Philip
Glass’s, the “Concerto Fantasy for
Two Timpanists and Orchestra”
(which, as an aside, often bears
striking
similarities
to
music
from “Mission Impossible”). The
choice of a timpani concerto is
somewhat odd, but also bold,
given the relative historical lack
of music in that genre. The playing
on Saturday night’s performance
was skillful and well-executed, but
some of the inherent difficulties of
performing a timpani concerto

nevertheless shown through. The
balance between the orchestra and
soloists was a constant challenge,
and often it was a strain to hear
the orchestra over the sheer force
of the timpani banging away at
the front of the stage. Which isn’t
to say the banging wasn’t exciting,
and indeed the timpani cadenza in
the third movement was probably
the most compelling part of the
piece, as the listener stopped
being distracted by the fact that
they couldn’t hear the orchestra
and could focus on the thrilling
technique and sensitive touch
displayed by soloists Jeremy Epp
and James Ritchie.
Far
and
away
the
most
compelling
performance
of
the night, however, fell to the
last piece of the evening, John
Luther Adams’s “Become Ocean,”
a
meditative
and
immersive
42-minute work for full orchestra
which, when I spoke with him in
2015, Adams described as “the
culmination of years of work
… (where) the music has been
leading (him) ... for decades.” Kept
at a single tempo for the entire
duration of the work, the orchestra
is divided physically into three
groups on stage — the strings,
the woodwinds and the brass.
Throughout the course of the
piece, each of these sections slowly
fades in and out of prominence,
each
playing
slow,
repetitive
patterns and swelling chords that
imitate the movement of waves in
the open ocean. Listening to it, one
feels submerged in the texture,
floating in its resonance, borne
aloft by the slow-moving mass of
its sound. The DSO augmented the
meditative nature of this listening
experience
with
the
tasteful
application
of
stage
lighting,
applying a separate soft-hued
color to each orchestra section and
intensifying or dimming the light
in accordance with the section’s
change in volume.
It was a satisfying end to the
“American Panorama” festival,
and all the more so because it was
a concert featuring exclusively
living
composers.
“American
music,” it seemed to say, “is a thing
that is alive and among us.” Let’s
hope that programing like this
continues to come to the fore.

DSO takes on
‘Become Ocean’

DAILY CLASSICAL MUSIC COLUMN

DAYTON HARE
Daily Classical Music Columnist

Since her successful 2017 debut
with SweetSexySavage, Kehlani’s life
has shifted into the media spotlight.
From a (disproven) cheating scandal
involving
ex
Kyrie
Irving
and
PartyNextDoor to scrutiny over her
sexual orientation, Kehlani’s love life
has garnered particularly invasive
attention. She’s faced a lot of love and
a lot of heartbreak over these last few
years, and none of it was private. For
these reasons her announcement of
her pregnancy in October came as a
shock. “i don’t want to hide,” she wrote
in her twitter announcement. “i want
to walk around belly out everywhere.”
A lot of these ideas manifest
themselves into her most recent release
While We Wait. If SweetSexySavage
introduced her as a strong-willed,
sexy and intelligent woman to the
world,
her
sophomore
attempt
destabilizes this immaculately cool
image. A nine track mixtape, half of
it collaborations, shows a less self-
assured Kehlani, more vulnerable. But
she’s okay with that. And whereas the
ambition with SweetSexySavage was
to churn out confident, radio-friendly
bangers, While We Wait is less lavish,
making greater use of negative space
and sparse, wispy instrumentals. It
feels more genuine this time around.
Sonically, the album is dynamic,
with its tone, pace and energy scaling
the board. It finds cohesion in its
ability to strip away layers from songs
just as fast as it builds them. It starts
with the sound of trickling water in
the intro track “Footsteps” and builds
from there, a soothing, whimsical
backbone to every song. This adds
more character to Kehlani’s artistry,
providing a greater sense of character
to her musical identity; despite some

trivial, superficial ’90s R&B worship,
tropey genre conventions aren’t too
prominent.
There’s an elegant deliberation
to the sound of this album. The
instrumentation perfectly parallels
the lyrical content at some points. The
trickling water from the beginning
actually ties to a metaphor of a
relationship slipping away like cupped
water. There are also points where
the sounds change the meaning of the
songs. This is most prominent in “Love
Language,” a song that details a desire
to better understand a new partner.
However, the song carries the cadence
of a nursery rhyme, suggesting it
references her situation as a new
mother.
More than anything, While We
Wait serves as a snapshot to the
emotions that tag along the turmoil

of new changes. Songs like “Nunya”
are scathing, challenging a former
lover. “Why you worried ’bout who
was fuckin’ me?” Yet more endearing
and personal cuts like “RPG” coexist,
admitting “you told me I’m beautiful/
‘cause I told you you don’t tell me
enough.” But the album far from
veers into extremities; it captures the
elegance of lingering between security
and doubt despite its meager tracklist.
“Morning Glory” is a quirkier track,
with lyrics like “this ain’t BK, you
can’t have it your way,” dedicated to
a male partner who may judge her
appearance
beneath
the
morning
makeup glam.

That
being
said,
the
album,
from a thematic viewpoint, is a bit
derivative. “Morning Glory,” despite
its charm, isn’t at all profound in the
sentiments it conveys. The same goes
for much of the rest of the album; it’s
ideas surrounding romantic love are
shallow and redundant, with constant
iterations of “take it or leave it” and
“I’m sorry” attached to nearly every
song. Despite the length, the concepts
explored by the album stale not too far
into it, the second song “Too Deep” a
subpar echo of “Footsteps.” This isn’t
to say Kehlani’s ideas and the way she
expresses them aren’t original — they
are — she simply misses the mark in
expressing anything we haven’t heard
before.
Characteristic for mixtapes — and
not Kehlani — are the number of
features on this album. Surprisingly,
they dodge the trap of cheapening
the content or serving as any sort of
promotional boost for any of the artists
involved (not to say the potential isn’t
there). The inclusion of Ty Dolla $ign
on “Nights Like This” adds a duality
to the album, emphasizing the role of
bisexual love in Kehlani’s life, as both
artists croon to the story of a mutual
female lover. Jazz icon Musiq Soulchild
on the other hand, is deterministically
in his element throughout “Footsteps,”
adding a slick, buttery quality to the
smooth track. Nonetheless, this isn’t
to say all collaborations on the album
proved necessary. Dom Kennedy on
“Nunya” is forgettable, his verse void
of the artistic and emotional energy of
the song.
Overall, While We Wait serves as a
strong follow up to the brilliance that
is SweetSexySavage. Despite veering
away from her traditional sound, her
sophomore attempt conveys more
personality and shows potential for
even more growth as her life and
understanding of it changes.

‘While We Wait’ redoes Kehlani

DIANA YASSIN
Daily Arts Writer

‘While We
Wait’

Kehlani

Atlantic

There’s
something
wonderfully
charming
about
that perfect cup of coffee.
For so many of us, coffee is so
much more than a drink — it’s
a stirring inside our chest, the
first taste that graces our lips
every day, waking us with the
sun. It is common ground for
conversation,
for
overcoming
challenges, for wordless displays
of tenderness and exhausted
gestures of affection. Coffee is
not a beverage; it is a necessity,
it is a tradition, it is a heritage.
We drink coffee for the jolt and
the ritual of it all, not just for its
lovable, distinct flavor. No matter
how ever changing our worlds,
coffee is a tradition. Above all,
coffee is a staple of American
culture and lifestyle.
For the many who don’t rely
on a Keurig or, perhaps, a fancy
espresso machine to bring us a
morning, mid-afternoon or oh
shit I’m pulling an all nighter cup
of Joe, the places that we choose
to go for coffee, for convenience
or preference, become part of the
daily sacrament of java as well.
There aren’t many strangers
in our lives that we feel like we
know as much as local baristas.
My mom gave me my first cup
of coffee when I was 12 — a
sickly sweet, half drunk decaf
caramel
macchiato
handed
over on a Washington D.C.
metro, and I’ll never forget that
moment: the paper cup to my
lips, the lukewarm temperature,
that
masked,
deep
flavor.
I’ve graduated from caramel
macchiatos and decaf coffees to
develop a more mature, grown
up palate for the flavors that can
be garnered from stand alone
plain black coffee.
When I’m staring at the menu
in a coffee shop, I generally
prefer a single espresso or an
almond milk cappuccino. I like
my coffee dark, strong and in
steady supply, but not unpleasant
and bitter. I like a cup of coffee
that cuts to the chase, is poignant
in flavor and aroma, and leaves
me feeling warm and bright.
Sometimes that means walking

the line between too dark and
just right, and anyone who can
fill my mug with that happy
medium is added to my list of
favorites. In New Jersey, I have
two go-to coffee shops, both with
their own personalities, and they
always welcome me back with
open arms and caffeine abound.
Both shops have a feeling akin
to coming home, and I always
gravitate toward them when I’m
lucky enough to have a break
from school.
Few
places
can
compare
to the first coffee shops that
compelled me to fall in love with
coffee — not just the beverage,
but the culture behind it. The
places where we go for coffee
say so much about who we are
as people. They reflect us in our
most vulnerable form: Monday
morning pre-coffee, Saturday
morning post-night out coffee or
the Tuesday afternoon cup just
because. Within coffee shops,
we suddenly feel comfortable
having serious conversations,
rekindling relationships, writing
our deepest prose or most
enlightening
poetry.
Coffee
culture is one thing, but coffee
shop culture is another beast
entirely. Coffee shops need a few
things: a distinct personality, a
potential for shared experience
and a comforting space. On an
Ann Arbor coffee tour, few spots
can even compare to the nostalgic
emotions that fill the cups that
have warmed my palms in New
Jersey; however, one settles right
alongside my beloved hometown
coffee shops, and takes the cake
as the best coffee in Ann Arbor.
Comet Coffee, run by Ann
Arbor’s own java wizard Jim
Arborio, is a small, independently
owned coffee shop that has made
home in Nickels Arcade, a stone’s
throw from the diag. Arborio
has his own coffee origin story,
as so many of us do, dating back
to 1992, when he was a barista
as a senior in high school. From
there, his passion for the bean
grew.
“I was always involved with
coffee, roasting at home when
I was growing up in Saline,
Michigan,”
Arborio
said,
in
an interview with The Daily.

“I moved back to Ann Arbor
in hopes of opening my own
business in 2001, and I knew it
was coffee.”
Comet Coffee is small but
mighty, with few tables and a
bit of counter space, warm with
light green walls and a handful of
golden suspended lights. To the
left of the register is the espresso
machine in all its glory, and to
the right is a case of perfectly
handcrafted French pastries and
the pour-over station, where the
baristas master the art of the
perfect cup.
Comet Coffee was born of a
cocktail of experience with heart
and sentimentality.
“The shop is sort of named
after the guy who taught me
to make drinks on an espresso
machine,” Arborio said. “My
experiences in my favorite coffee
shops tend to be places that
gather people, shoot them far
away some place, and bring them
back slowly, like a comet.”
Comet
Coffee
certainly
provides somewhat of the same
experience,
taking
students
and professors away from the
stressors of their individual lives
and providing them with a space
to enjoy conversation.
“People find a lot of identity
in the place they get coffee, so
we cultivate this space so that
it feels relevant to the people
who constantly frequent here,”
Arborio said in referencew to
that special coffee shop culture.
Comet Coffee is different in
the midst of hundreds of coffee
shops in Ann Arbor because it are
centered and focused on human
connection, reserving half of
their tables for “non-electronic”
patrons. I’ve made good use of
those conversation-only tables,
constantly gravitating toward
them with a friend of mine as
tradition to get tea after weekly
hot yoga. Many other customers
have similar attachments to
the electronic-free area of the
intimate space, a rare find in
this technology-obsessed 21st
century.

Hearty joe at
Comet Coffee

DAILY FOOD COLUMN

ELI RALLO
Daily Food Columnist

Read more at
MichiganDaily.com

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