Classifieds
Call: #734-418-4115
Email: dailydisplay@gmail.com
By Jeff Stillman
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
04/10/19
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
04/10/19
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Wednesday, April 10, 2019
ACROSS
1 Punk rock
subgenre
4 Catches
red-handed
8 Medieval stringed
instruments
14 GoPro product,
briefly
15 Many a
homecoming
attendee
16 Covent Garden
offerings
17 All-Star pitcher
18 Controversial
excavation
method
20 Beach house?
22 Little biter
23 Bible book
between Daniel
and Joel
24 Biblical pronoun
25 Nursery cry
26 Form 1040 agcy.
28 Permanent
sites?
30 Sounds of
contentment
33 __ Fables
37 Criticize harshly
38 Beachfront
property, often
41 Org. for netmen
42 “Barney Miller”
star Hal
43 Linear
44 Biathlon weapons
46 __ Bund: Swiss
newspaper
48 Skelton’s
Kadiddlehopper
49 Merit badge org.
52 Tut-tutted
56 Scottish family
57 Breed of Tonto’s
Scout
59 Handyman’s
work suggested
by the starts of
18-, 20-, 38- and
57-Across
61 Shortest
surname in
Cooperstown
62 Kin of jujitsu
63 Yours, to Yves
64 Once known as
65 Planted a red
herring, say
66 Poolroom
powder
67 Drop the ball
DOWN
1 Cybermoney
2 Chinese
gambling mecca
3 Forebodings
4 Sprint Cup org.
5 Utah ski resort
6 Break open
7 Word for word?
8 Tiber River
capital
9 Center starter
10 Cincinnati player
11 “Happy Days”
actress
12 Inhabitant
of ancient
Palestine
13 NCO rank
19 Work at, as a
trade
21 Reason-based
faith
25 Easter liturgy
27 One-piece
dresses
28 Go through
29 Floored it
30 On __ with
31 Constitution
section that
creates the
executive
branch
32 On-the-sly alcohol
containers
34 Poetic time
35 Downcast
36 Bullfight cheer
39 K thru 6
40 Upper body
45 Soup legume
47 Cultural, as
cuisine
49 Sheep’s cry
50 Occupy, as a
desk
51 Santa __
racetrack
53 Scandinavian
coin
54 Fragrant
compound
55 Discourage
56 Pull an all-nighter
57 Urge
58 Item in a kit
60 “__ to My Right
Knee”: Rita Dove
poem
COMEDIC WRITER
needed to write funny captions.
Pay is $25 for 12 cap
tions. Basically
~$2 per caption.
Contact mitchelj@umich.edu.
STUDENT SUMMER STORAGE
Closest to campus, Indoor, Clean,
Safe Reserve now at
annarborstorage.com or
(734) 663‑0690
EFFICIENCY ‑ 1 & 2 Bdrm Apt
Fall 2019/20 Rents range $875 ‑ $1850
most include heat and water.
Showings scheduled M‑F 10‑3
734‑996‑1991
FOR RENT
SERVICES
HELP WANTED
Question:
What goes
great with your
morning coffee?
Answer:
michigandaily.com
Concertos for two pianos and
orchestra are somewhat rare,
maybe because it seems like
such overkill. The conventional
piano
concerto
stages
a
dialogue (or a competition, or
a fight) between the orchestra
and the soloist, which can
usually nearly match, or at least
analogize, the orchestra in
power and scope. It’s less clear
what a concerto for two pianos
is really accomplishing by the
addition of the third character
— a piano duet, by itself, can
accommodate nearly any piece
of orchestral music. Many pre-
20th-century examples of the
form simply trade the role of the
soloist between the two pianists,
leaving whichever player not
playing the prominent role
to fill in gaps in the texture
or mirror the orchestra. One
recent example of the form,
Philip Glass’s double concerto,
works in part because Glass’s
style tends to be more planar
than dialogic — the piece plays
interlocking masses of sound
off each other. Glass uses the
piano not as an analogue for an
orchestra, but something like
mallet percussion.
A
younger
composer
who
borrows
heavily
from
the
minimalist
tradition
that
Glass
helped
create is Bryce
Dessner,
whose
latest
set
of
recordings
includes
a
concerto
for
two
pianos
played
by
the
French duo Katia
and
Marielle
Labèque.
This
piece splits the
difference
between
Glass’s
static, rhythmically inflected
style and the more narrative
concerto tradition, balancing a
sense of thematic development
with a bright, clear harmonic
language and motoric rhythms.
Dessner doesn’t shy away from
the intricate, nearly overloaded
textures
that
are
possible
with the instrumentation, and
the spontaneity with which
he
combines
themes
and
gestures is thrilling. Phrases
ricochet around the orchestra,
woodwinds scribble around the
edges of phrases, abrupt shifts
in texture and color abound. It’s
like a liquid minimalism, just as
likely to disperse into skittering
phrases as it is to condense into
a stampeding rush.
The
second
piece
on
the
album, “Haven,”
is
scored
for
piano duet and
two
guitars,
played here by
the
Labèques,
Dessner
and
the
guitarist
David
Chalmin.
“Haven”
is
a
much
more
restrained
form
of music than the
piano
concerto,
and
carries
a
superficial
similarity to the earlier, pulse-
driven form of minimalism
from the late 1960s. Like much
minimalist music before it, it
establishes a basic, repeated
shape that then accumulates
and disperses dissonance, like
a river flowing over rocks.
“Haven”
doesn’t
have
the
monomaniacal
intensity
of
early Glass and Reich, though
— it’s rather sectional, and can
be read as following an overall
A-B-A structure, like a sonata.
Similar to the piano concerto,
Dessner
uses
minimalism
as a stylistic resource that
can be channeled into more
conventional forms.
“El Chan” is the final piece on
the album, for piano duet. The
set of miniatures are dedicated
to Alejandro González Iñárritu,
who Dessner worked with on
the expansive score for The
Revenant. Dessner’s language
acquires
a
slightly
more
ominous, but still luminous,
cast: dissonances accumulate in
clouds above triads and seventh
chords, frenetic gestures are
cut short by bass hammer-
strokes. The music feels more
differentiated, a jagged, misty
landscape. The final piece,
subtitled
“Mountain,”
ends
with a series of slow, widely
spaced chords, not suggesting
tension or resolution but simply
hanging, suspended.
Bryce Dessner plays with
composition on ‘El Chan’
ALBUM REVIEW
EMILY YANG
Daily Arts Writer
El Chan
Bryce Dessner
Brassland Records
Dessner doesn’t shy away
from the intricate, nearly
overloaded textures that
are possible with the
instrumentation
Before attending Assistant
Professor José Casas’s “Flint,”
I had already decided that I
really wanted to like it. The
premise of the play — a “call to
action,” as the author describes
it, meant to inform audience
members of the Flint water
crisis — seemed noble and
highly important.
While the play did have its
poignant, powerful moments, it
lacked the focus and clarity to
bring them home. The disparity
of the many narratives in the
play all but eliminated any
overarching themes that might
be drawn from the crisis,
reducing a complex crisis into
a series of heart-wrenching
individual problems.
To
understand
these
problems,
one
must
first
understand the basic structure
of the play. It consisted of a
series of monologues and duets
in which people affected by
the Flint water crisis spoke
to the audience about their
experiences. Over the course
of the
evening, we
heard
from
various
concerned
stakeholders: a professor, an
Autoworld worker, a deliver
guy, an attorney and a nurse.
Though this technique was
interesting at first, it eventually
became cumbersome. I found
myself wishing that characters
would
interact
with
each
other at some point — that
some character evolution or
continuity
between
scenes
and characters would begin to
develop.
Furthermore,
at
many
points, the dialogue resulting
from this narrative structure
began to feel awkward and
preachy. The play began to
feel as though it were a series
of interviews with unrelated
subjects, each one addressing
the audience to detail the
horrible
effects
that
the
crisis had on their life. The
great disparity between the
messages of these characters,
however, diluted any central
narrative or take away that
might have developed.
Despite this, the acting talent
on display was impressive. Any
scene requiring a monologue
usually becomes a staple of
an actor’s repertoire; in this
instance, the cast was required
to perform two or three quasi-
monologues each. Each member
of the cast excelled in this
regard, consistently breaking
the fourth wall and speaking
seemingly
extemporaneously
to the audience without losing
the audience’s attention.
The opening and closing
ensemble
numbers,
for
example,
were
absolutely
stunning.
In
the
opening,
various
members
of
the
ensemble doubled each other‘s
dialogues about the crisis.
These were short, powerful
statements meant to capture
the lasting effects of this crisis.
And near the end, as water
flowed out of the pipes on the
edges of the stage, the cast’s
violent motions and groaning
noises were truly horrifying; of
everything in the play, this is
the moment that stuck with me
as I left the theater.
The set was very impressive:
A chain-link fence stuffed full
of dirtied water bottles framed
the stage while dark brown
pipes flanked the back left and
right portions of the stage.
During the intermission, these
pipes were uncapped — in the
ensemble scene, a slow trickle
of water dripped from them
into giant oil barrels.
A few of the narratives
were particularly moving. The
Attorney’s complaints about
potentially moving trials to
majority-white counties, for
example,
was
particularly
captivating.
The
Gardener
and Socialist were also quite
powerful, as the Gardener
spoke
of
the
peace
that
gardening brought him, the
Socialist spoke of the damages
that lead and other foreign
substances can have to plants
grown in contaminated soil.
The last minutes of the
play, however, were its most
powerful. In this monologue,
a woman of color speaks to the
audience about the cultural
expectations
that
mothers
(and mothers of color) face in
speaking about this crisis. At
one point, she tells the audience
that “this play is over.” As the
house lights abruptly turned
on, she admonished us to listen
to these stories and respond to
them — to act on what we had
heard and help be part of the
solution.
In the end, I found myself
wishing that the whole play
had been this commanding.
And while I applaud Prof.
Casas’s
ambitions
on
this
project, I cannot say that it
entirely lived up to what I had
hoped for. Ultimately, it was a
lengthy, slightly-disorganized
rumination on the hazardous
effects of the Flint water crisis
— an incredibly important
play, though not the most well-
executed attempt.
‘Flint’ is an ambitious play
that does not hit the mark
COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW
SAMMY SUSSMAN
Daily Arts Writer
Megan Bascom and Nicole
Reehort’s “Intersections” MFA
Dance Thesis Concert explored
themes of isolation, empathy
and personal aspiration in the
groups we find ourselves in
on a daily basis. In Reehorst’s
“Playing
Dead,”
a
female
protagonist
navigates
the
practice of classical ballet, a
journey that forces her to be
both gentle and aggressive,
fragile yet enduring. Bascom’s
“ReGuarding,” on the other
hand,
has
no
protagonist.
Instead, a group of dancers
move around an obstacle course
of
abstracted
sculptures,
with relationships among the
dancers and their environment
constantly in flux.
Drawing from their distinct
backgrounds, the two Masters
candidates made very different
choreographic
decisions.
Reehort’s piece began with
her protagonist standing still
at stage center, lights slowly
illuminating her face and then
her body. As a classical piano
began to play, two dancers
rolled across from either sides
of the stage, unfurling fabric
that would eventually entangle
the protagonist as she slowly
began to move. Bascom’s piece,
by contrast, began with a bright
red screen suddenly providing
back-lighting for five dancers
standing
tall
across
stage
center. As distorted electric
guitar began playing over an
electronic beat, the dancers
energetically ran about the
stage until they suddenly all
stomped the music and screen
to a halt. These beginnings
placed the audience in two very
different places from the start:
Reehorst’s
piece
demanded
attention to subtlety, while
Bacom’s simply had us along for
the ride.
The stage design acted as an
early indicator of the different
approaches. Reehorst’s set was
comprised of ropes made of
beige-colored ballerina lingerie
knotted together, Bascom’s set
employed
eight
abstracted
containers of wood and metal.
While the lingerie referenced a
long history of lingerie in ballet
and represented the established
norms that literally entangle
the main dancer, the containers
seem
to
symbolize
the
immaterial obstacles of urban
life, as the cast continuously
fights to overthrow them.
The
biggest
difference
between
the
performances,
however, seemed to be the
use or omission of music and
dialogue.
Reehorst’s
piece
used music sparingly, allowing
us to be intimately connected
with the protagonist for most
of the time. When music did
play, it was classical piano
that indicated the start of
a
performance
within
the
performance
itself.
This
omission of music when the
ballerinas
were
“offstage”
gave the piece a self-aware
objectivity that wouldn’t have
been communicated otherwise.
Bascom, on the other hand,
made use of high octane music
and dialogue throughout. If
all five dancers seemed to be
acting as a group — playing
off each other in any number
of ways — fast-paced music
would serve to accentuate the
frenzy. During moments when
only one or two dancers acted
as others watched on, slower,
more atmospheric music would
support this intimacy. In this
way, the use rather than the
omission of music supported
much of the social commentary
Bascom seemed to be making.
Despite these differences,
the performances had a great
deal
of
thematic
overlap
(hence,
“Intersections”).
Reehorst’s
focused
on
the
plight of a woman trying to
establish herself in a ballet
company, hence its more muted,
introspective
nature.
This
protagonist fails to integrate
herself throughout, only finally
noticing the web of lingerie
at the end after a great deal
of strenuous, inward-looking
solo performance. It is only
then that she joins the other
dancers as they synchronously
roll offstage to conclude the
performance.
The dancers in Bascom’s
performance
seem
equally
aloof to the obstacles before
them. They move the metal
containers around throughout
the show, at times using them
as protective barriers but at
others
involuntarily
being
bound to their control. After
much quarrel, the five original
dancers, aided by a curious new
group of three others, come
to a collective understanding
that these containers are the
source of their angst. The
show ends on much the same
note as Reehort’s with the
group
coming
together
to
aggressively
abolish
these
obstacles offstage. Regardless
of their differences, “Playing
Dead” and “ReGuarding” offer
cohesive individualistic and
collective insights into our
intricately intersecting lives.
‘Intersections’ impresses
with original choreograpy
COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW
BEN VASSAR
Daily Arts Writer
6A — Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com