It’s been nearly a year since
“Broad City” concluded its run,
leaving a hole in the heart of
anyone who watched — especially
for Comedy Central. The apparent
heir to this is “Awkwafina Is Nora
From Queens” which should fit
in just fine, once it settles down.
After Awkwafina’s recent string
of success in high-profile films
like “Crazy Rich Asians” and
“Ocean’s 8,” and after becoming
the first Asian-American woman
to win a Golden Globe for Best
Actress for her role in “The
Farewell,” she now steps into
what could be her hardest role
yet: filling the shoes of both Abbi
and Ilana.
It’s
extremely
difficult
to
judge a show based on its pilot,
as that first episode serves
as an introduction into the
show’s
universe
rather
than
an actual episode of the show.
But, in attempting to establish
the
various
relationships
and dynamics of “Nora From
Queens,”
the
similarities
to
“Broad City” become unavoidable
— and they really just make me
wish I was watching “Broad City”
instead. Rather than focusing on
the relationship between friends
in their twenties, it’s Awkwafina
and her family. One thing that
remains
the
same,
however,
is that it’s a comedy about an
entertainingly
oddball
young
woman trying to make meaning
of her life as she works strange
jobs, gets high and makes the
most of living on a tight budget.
Comparing the show to “Broad
City” is not the issue at hand.
After all, imitation is the highest
form of flattery. Once you stop
comparing them, however, the
problems
become
apparent.
The editing and fast pace are
supposed to provide the show
with a sort of comedic energy,
but Nora’s storylines are almost
too short to become invested
in. Fans of Awkwafina will feel
her personality and creativity
through some goofy montages,
but that isn’t enough to stop the
show from burning out fast.
Nora lives with her widowed
father, Wally (BD Wong, “Jurassic
Park”),
and
her
unfiltered
grandma
(Lori
Tan
Chinn,
“Orange is the New Black”). After
being mocked for her hoarder-
like messy room and made fun
of by a neighboring teenager for
still living at home, Nora decides
it’s time to move out. She’s going
to get a job, an apartment and live
the life she set out to live a decade
before … except, she’s not! After
a predictable set of escalating
twists, she ends up right back at
home by the end of the episode.
In all fairness, this first episode
gives us a taste of what’s to come.
Nora’s failure to show any sort of
growth tells us that her family
will play a major role in the series,
making this an ensemble comedy.
The scenes with her family got
the most laughs and present the
most possibilities for humorous
interactions, which is why I have
a feeling the show will improve.
The pilot relies on Awkwafina to
carry all the comedic weight in
far too many of the scenes. This is
mostly a function of her character
trying to be something she’s not
— an adult — which results in
the episode being something the
show isn’t going to be — a show
about her becoming an adult on
the fly.
As I tried to make meaning
out of the various roadblocks,
in some instances literal ones, it
became increasingly clear there
was no meaning to make. Far too
many storylines led to dead ends
rather than open up possibilities
for Nora’s character. “Awkwafina
Is Nora From Queens” should
be able to find its footing, escape
the similarities to “Broad City”
and hopefully find its own path
forward, but it’s going to take
Nora much longer than it took
Abbi and Ilana to grow up.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Tuesday, January 28, 2020 — 5
‘Norah from Queens’ sits
in shadow of ‘Broad City’
COMEDY CENTRAL
JUSTIN POLLACK
Daily Arts Writer
Jane Hirshfield’s ninth book of
poetry is an elegy to her lost sister
and the world she used to live in,
the world that had her sister in
it. The collection was strangely
uplifting, however; Hirshfield
deals with the challenging topic
of death by creating poetry that
finds wonder in mundanity.
In fact, her book isn’t really
about death at all. Rather, it is
the aftermath of death in her
own mind, the way she deals not
with the death itself but with the
way it changed her worldview. In
her poem “Vest,” she compares
her memory to a “pocket holding
the day / of digging a place for my
sister’s ashes,” then comes to a
realization of her own mortality
in the next line when she writes,
“the one holding the day / where
someone will soon enough put
my own.” Death doesn’t hang
like a dark cloud over “Ledger.”
Instead, it intertwines with life
— in nature, in everyday objects,
in the author’s own ponderings.
Throughout the collection, the
poems work together to create
a unified philosophy of how life
goes on after death: by taking
nothing for granted, by finding
beauty in the everyday and by
contextualizing a life in terms of
nature.
Despite grappling with these
complex ideas throughout the
collection,
Hirshfield
makes
room to play with form and
sound. For example, in the
section of the book with similarly
titled poems like “My Doubt” or
“My Dignity,” the final poem
is called “My Silence.” Calling
this piece a “poem” proves that
it has pushed the boundaries
of the genre, because there are
no words after the title — just
blank space. It forces the reader
to reckon with actual silence,
rather than its idea distilled
into
verse.
Hirshfield
also
includes two “assays,” which at
first seems like a misspelling of
“essay,” because these pieces are
essentially mini-essays, written
in prose and in a somewhat
academic tone. In a play on words
that would require a google
search for most readers, the
word “assay” means to examine
something in order to assess its
nature. One piece, then, serves
as a play on words as well as
an extension of the meaning of
“poetry” by its very inclusion in
this collection.
Hirshfield
uses
the
dichotomous
framework
of
something either “continuing”
or “not continuing” to express
everyday things we take for
granted. In the poem “I Wanted
to Be Surprised,” she writes,
“What did not surprise enough:
/ my daily expectation that
anything would continue, / and
then that so much did continue,
when
so
much
did
not.”
Implicitly, because of the context
given by the rest of the collection,
life is what “did not” continue
for her sister; still, Hirshfield
chooses to first highlight the
remarkable
fact
that
other
things — most things — did. ‘The
word keeps spinning’ is repeated
to the point where the words
lose their meaning. Hirshfield
takes this concept and forces
the reader to relearn it, writing,
“I did not keep walking. / The
day inside me, / legs and lungs,
kept walking.” She separates
her own experience from the
rest of the world, sending them
briefly on two separate tracks. In
this way, her poetry produces a
curious dissociative effect which
demonstrates the walls trauma
can erect in a person.
Environmentalism
is
characterized in this book not
just as a grand and noble goal
but a small, personal one as
well. Nature is one of the ways
the book deals with death — by
placing it in a larger universal
narrative of balance. She writes
“Today, for some, a universe will
vanish. / First noisily, / then
just another silence” and then
“Something else, in the scale of
quickening things, / will replace
it.” If the “universe” in these
lines is a personal tragedy, she
is reminding the reader — and
to some extent, herself — that
like “the glacier, / the species,
the star,” things disappear. In
relation to the existence of so
many other things, that loss
is relatively small and even
expected.
The reconciliation of death
and
nature
helps
fuel
the
reverential
environmentalism
of the collection. Hirshfield
establishes the link between the
personal and the environmental
early in the book, writing in
the third poem, “I don’t know
why I was surprised every
time love started or ended” — a
personal statement — followed
immediately by “Or why each
time a new fossil, Earth-like
planet, or war” — a universal and
environmental statement. By the
end of the book, the mourning
has moved from the personal
to the global and perhaps to the
political: “The facts were told
not to speak / and were taken
away. / The facts, surprised to be
taken, were silent.” Hirshfield no
longer simply grieves for the loss
of someone in her own life — she
grieves instead for the planet as a
whole, condemning carelessness
and ignorance in the face of
ecological desperation.
Beautiful
verse
aside,
several poems mention specific
environmental
concerns,
like
“freighters
[that]
carry
their hold-held oil / back into
unfractured ground” or “Fish
vanished.
Bees
vanished
…
Arctic ice opened.” Hirshfield
writes
with
a
respect
for
nature and a moving plea for
environmentalism that is all the
more effective after the many-
pages-long
emotional
primer
of her own personal loss. Now
compared to the impending loss
of the planet, the ecological
grief feels personal, as she says,
“Hands wanted more time, hands
thought we had more time.”
Hirshfield’s subtle handling of
environmental issues, rendered
in masterful verse, forces the
reader to think of climate change
in terms of personal loss, rather
than as an abstract and distant
problem.
Equating ecological and
personal loss in ‘Ledger’
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
EMILIA FERRANTE
Daily Arts Writer
POETS.ORG
When an orchestra finishes
a musical performance, there’s
usually a moment of silence and
stillness. The musicians hoist
their bows in the air, lift reeds
and mouthpieces from lips and
lift drumsticks off the kettles. The
audience waits as the last note
finishes rings through the hall
before showering the ensemble
with applause.
This scene did not occur Nov. 19
of 2019. University Philharmonia
Orchestra
conductor
Adrian
Slywotzky’s
right
hand,
suspended
in
midair
after
delivering the final cutoff, came
crashing down onto his podium.
His baton, enclosed around his
fist, came to a halt atop the final
pages — the barnstorming ending,
if you will — of Dvorak’s Sixth
Symphony,
finely
completed
under his direction.
“I remember that moment, too,
because I sort of surprised myself
when I heard the stick hit the
stand … ” Slywotzky said. “By the
time you get to the end of a piece
like that in a performance, you
feel the weight, the substance of
all the work that was done ... it’s a
very triumphant moment.”
That moment, the polished
performance
which
preceded
it and a semester of seamless
transition
in
the
orchestra’s
leadership,
were
statements
Slywotzky
—
a
first-year
conductor at the U-M School of
Music, Theatre and Dance on
a one-year contract — made by
letting his job performance do the
talking.
But when he sat down to do
some actual talking, he struggled
to isolate his modus operandi.
It took 20 minutes before it
crystallized into words, though
it’s apparent to anyone who
watches him conduct a single
measure.
Slywotzky
revolves
around his love of the music and
doing it justice. In an industry full
of musicians with personal and
political extracurriculars on their
agendas, that is a beautiful thing.
***
Adrian Slywotzky played violin
seriously growing up, but entered
Yale University thinking he would
wind up in a career that musicians
call “something else.” Four years
later, he graduated with a B.A. in
architecture, but not all had gone
according to that plan.
“Late in the game (I) made the
decision to go into music instead,”
Slywotzky said. “Getting my
master’s in violin performance ...
that was a very long transition.”
A
mainstay
during
this
transition was Yale University
professor of violin Kyung Yu, who
taught Slywotzky throughout his
time as a Yale undergraduate.
“The fact that Kyung was ...
able to support me and my violin
playing ... during a time when
I didn’t think I was going into
music professionally was crucial
for me,” Slywotzky said.
His introduction to conducting
was gradual as well, beginning
as an assistant of a student-run
ensemble. Slywotzky’s interest in
conducting turned into a passion,
and after a trio of graduate
degrees — master’s degrees in
violin performance and orchestral
conducting at the Yale School of
Music, and a terminal degree in
the latter at U-M — Slywotzky
boasted an extensive resume
filled with study under the world’s
finest teachers in both fields.
Diplomas in hand, he returned to
the Northeast and began racking
up diverse work experience, be
it in a prominent role with the
nationally
acclaimed
Boston
Youth Symphony Orchestras or
leading a New Haven, CT-based
series of contemporary music.
“The fundamental thing is
the same for every orchestra —
everyone wants to sound good,
and the difference is how to help
each orchestra get to essentially
the same goal,” Slywotzky said.
“We’re all on the same path.”
In
his
interim
capacity,
Slywotzky
succeeds
former
School of Music, Theatre and
Dance faculty member Oriol
Sans, now in his first year as
director of orchestral activities
at the University of Wisconsin-
Madison. His are large shoes to
fill.
“I have the highest admiration
for (Oriol) ... I wanted to continue
his work to the best of my ability,”
Slywotzky
said.
“Naturally
things are going to be different ...
(but) it wasn’t my goal to change
anything.”
Slywotzky’s expertise when
dealing with the string section,
informed by his many years of
playing in ensembles as illustrious
as the Tanglewood Music Center
Orchestra, is evident at every
rehearsal
and
performance.
Through
repertoire
spanning
from Classical to 20th Century,
he worked diligently to create a
unique sound true to the musical
period and composer.
Considering
the
group’s
performance of Haydn symphony
No. 99; written in the 1790s,
Slywotzky elected to be faithful to
the style in which it was originally
played by doing away with any
vibrato in the string sound. The
process of weaning the strings
from their vibrato, often used as
a crutch to mask poor intonation,
was tenuous, but ultimately a
key ingredient for an authentic
performance.
The
freshman
conductor
made an administrative change
invisible to audience members but
instrumental to the growth of the
violinists of the group: rotating
the players all over the two violin
sections.
“UPO players should have the
experience of playing second
violin and first violin and playing
in the front and playing in the
back,” Slywotzky said. “ ... we’re
all going to have those seats in
our professional lives, so why not
learn them here?”
His repertoire choices are
far from fan favorites, but his
conviction in their value bled onto
his musicians and their audience
if the standing ovations by the
latter are any indication.
“The Brahms Serenade (No. 1)
... it’s just a piece I’ve admired for
a long time ... I thought it would
be a fun project for the orchestra,”
Slywotzky said. “The Beethoven,
I think the second symphony is a
little bit underappreciated, partly
because the third symphony made
a huge splash and continues to be
so influential ... (in the second
symphony Beethoven) expanded
the dramatic possibility of the
symphony.”
When asked about his career
trajectory
after
this
year,
Slywotzky was tight-lipped.
“I’m very happy to be here,
doing the best I can while I’m
here,” he said. “It’s written
somewhere in the stars.”
Even with jobs in his field
shrinking,
he
radiated
no
concern about the future — only
satisfaction in his current work.
What more could a school want
out of a professor?
Slywotzky, UPO kick off
another promising year
JACK WHITTEN
For the Daily
Awkwafina Is
Norah from
Queens
Series Premiere
Comedy Central
Wednesdays @ 10:30
TV REVIEW
TV REVIEW
ARTIST PROFILE
Ledger
Jane Hirshfield
Knopf Publishing Group
Mar. 10, 2020
Read more online at
michigandaily.com