The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Monday, February 3, 2020 — 5A
It
would
be
dishonest
to
say that my decision to go to
Sundance wasn’t at least mildly
(okay, heavily) influenced by the
fact that superstar Taylor Swift’s
documentary, “Miss Americana,”
would be screened at the festival
before its Jan. 31 Netflix release.
As the kickoff to the film festival,
“Miss Americana” was one of
the hottest tickets in Park City;
its premiere saw lines wrapping
around the block in the cold Utah
winter, hundreds of people waiting
for the chance to catch a glimpse
of Swift and/or her movie. Many
were fans, but as an introduction
to the screening told us, you don’t
have to be a fan of Swift to enjoy
this movie. And, if you’re not a
fan, this film is certain to make
you one. This sentiment could not
have rang more true — even before
the lights came on, the theater
was buzzing with admiration
and excitement for this deeply
personal and moving peek into the
life of such a polarizing musician.
“Miss Americana” opens on
Swift playing the piano in her New
York City apartment while her
kitten, Benjamin, strolls across the
keys. As the camera follows the
adorable blue-eyed feline, Swift’s
voice comes in, setting the stage
for what evidently becomes the
theme of the documentary.
“My entire moral code is a need
to be thought of as ‘good,’” she says
while perched on a city-facing
window sill. As a montage of home
movies and early performances
plays,
Swift
describes
her
desperate
need
for
approval,
how she used to need applause
and validation to feel good about
herself. All she ever tried to be
was the polite girl who smiled and
made it easy to sell records, and it
kept working. That is, of course,
until it didn’t.
The documentary takes a turn
with the infamous 2009 incident,
when Kanye West interrupted a
teenage Taylor Swift onstage at
the VMAs. Swift says that at the
time she didn’t know everyone in
the crowd was booing Kanye. She
thought the arena was booing her,
piercing her desperately needed
veil of approval and shaping the
way she viewed her life from then
on.
In
a
post-screening
Q&A,
documentary
director
Lana
Wilson revealed that she and
Swift
had
specifically
talked
about
making
sure
the
film
didn’t come off as propaganda
or marketing. This explains how
deeply and surprisingly personal
the documentary gets. Viewers
see Swift talking about everything
from her history with eating
disorders to her mother’s growing
cancer to the crushing loneliness
of
stardom.
These
moments,
woven
between
scenes
of
a
sparkling, smiling Swift on stage
at her various tours, take what
could’ve been just another pop star
documentary and elevate it to a
level rarely achieved by the genre.
The most touching and talked
about scene of the film comes when
Swift decides she wants to come
out in support of Phil Bredeson,
the Tennessee Democrat who
ran against Marcia Blackburn,
a woman who Swift describes
as “Trump in a wig,” in the 2018
midterm election. In a room with
her mother, father and three men
from her management team, Swift
holds back tears describing what
she feels are unforgivable views
held by Blackburn. As her father
and management beg her not
speak out, she breaks down over
not publicly coming out against
Trump in 2016, finally proclaiming
that this is just “something I have
to do.”
There is some valid criticism to
be made here. Swift’s activism is
one of comfort, done with a glass
of wine in an expensive home.
But the framing of her political
coming-out within the theme of
the documentary squashes these
concerns. Swift is less of a couch
activist with a savior complex and
more of a powerful woman finally
breaking out of the ties that she has
been bound by for fifteen years.
From the beginning of the doc to
the end, we see Swift no longer
care about approval, applause and
awards, but about what she wants
and how she wants to do it.
Within the film are plenty more
moments and scenes that warrant
their own article, but with a fast-
approaching release date, such
details are not necessary. The
whispers heard while walking out
of the film were of varied praise —
from super fans crying over details
they’ve always wanted, to old men
who couldn’t name three Swift
songs praising the rawness and
charm of the flick. With its humor
and heartbreak, “Miss Americana”
is the story of a normal, outcasted
teenage girl who just so happened
to get famous.
—Samantha Della Fara, Daily
Arts Writer
To quote my mom: “Taylor
Swift is a smart girl.”
And no, not in that calculated,
strategic way that, as Swift herself
explains, is negatively associated
with women, but rather in a
genuinely intelligent and informed
way that proves she knows what
she’s doing as a businesswoman,
citizen, role model and human.
Nothing
demonstrates
her
intelligence more than Swift’s
recently
released
Netflix
documentary “Miss Americana.”
Director
Lana
Wilson
(“The
Departure”) uses the documentary
as an opportunity to peel back the
layers of Taylor Swift to see what
she is really like beyond her catchy
songs and exhilarating concerts;
Swift reclaims the narrative of her
life story in this documentary. In
some incredibly touching scenes
we see her interact with her family,
and we get peeks into her studio
where she and her collaborators
work on the lyrical and musical
processes behind her songs.
“Miss Americana” is full of
intense moments, like her decision
to come out about her political
beliefs and her mother’s cancer
struggles, but those are evenly
dispersed with happy moments
too. Wilson carefully manages a
then timeline and a now timeline,
with the then moments being
Swift’s struggles and the now
moments being, naturally, her life
now, where she is happier than
she has been in a long time and
more connected with what really
matters to her.
Wilson follows the timeline of
Swift’s 13-year career: She inserts
clips of Swift performing the
national anthem as a child, the
launch of her career with her song
“Tim McGraw,” her numerous
awards beginning with the album
Fearless and ending with pop music
sensation 1989, and her struggle to
be “a good girl.” But then we see
something different: the sadness
that once lurked deep beyond
Swift’s surface, sadness that was
never apparent on her face or in
her speeches. We see how things
like the #TaylorSwiftIsOverParty
affected her, how Kanye West’s
song “Famous” hurt her, how
paparazzi
photos
and
media
remarks led to an eating disorder
and how her sexual assault case
left her paranoid and eager to
change how women are treated.
Following
those
events,
it
makes sense that Swift would
want to change herself, not just
through her music with the
release of reputation, but also
personally and publicly as a
political spokesperson. In one
of the most hard-hitting scenes
of the documentary, Swift fights
against her management team and
her father when she declares she
wants to speak out during the 2018
midterm elections. She says she
wants people to understand why
Marsha Blackburn should not be
in power, citing Blackburn’s lack
of support for the Violence Against
Women
Act
and
Blackburn’s
homophobic
beliefs.
Everyone
begs her not to make such a risky
decision, but Swift says she has to
“be on the right side of history,” or
at least try. And she does. She risks
her career, but more importantly
her safety, to try to make a
difference. It may not have turned
out the way she hoped, but we saw
her make an effort, which is more
than many entertainers do.
We also see the effect of the
midterm election on Swift’s music.
Last year she came out with the
song “Miss Americana and the
Heartbreak Prince,” which is
saturated with political metaphors
and is also the song for which
the documentary is named, but
with this film she also releases
clips of her creating a new song
“Only the Young,” which was
released with the documentary.
The song, written for and about
the youth affected by Trump and
other Republicans’ detrimental
political decisions , references
school shootings among other
horrific events. But, as Swift sings,
“only one thing can save us / only
the young.” Backed by children’s
voices,
the
song
emphasizes
what
Swift
explains
in
her
documentary: the need to take part
in politics and create change in the
world, through music, politics or
otherwise.
—Sabriya Imami, Daily Arts
Writer
Two perspectives on Swift
documentary ‘Americana’
FILM REVIEW
FILM REVIEW
SAMANTHA DELLA FERRA &
SABRIYA IMAMI
Daily Arts Writers
NETFLIX
“I asked, ‘Dizzy, do you
know anybody here in New
York that could give me some
voice training?’ He cursed me
out. I can’t say what he told me,
he told me off so good.”
Yes, of course, Miss Mavis
Staples
—
Freedom
Rider,
daughter of Pops Staples, the
woman who was proposed
to by Bob Dylan and never
married him — was cursed
out by famed jazz trumpeteer
Dizzy
Gillespie
for
asking
about voice training. Of course.
“He said, ‘You already got it!
What the hell you talkin’ about?
You don’t need no voice coach,
you already got it. You leave
it alone,’” her laugh bubbled
through the phone. “I’m going
to do like Dizzy said, ‘Leave it
alone, let it be.‘”
British mag New Musical
Express declared in 2018 that
“There is no sound on Earth
more joyful than Mavis Staples
singing, except maybe Mavis
Staples laughing.” My God,
how real that is. I have written
and
rewritten
nonsense
phrases about how warm and
full and true her laugh is, but
nothing I write will ever do it
justice.
I
recently
had
the
opportunity to speak with
Staples in anticipation of her
Feb. 15 performance at The
Breakfast at St. Andrews. This
program was created in the ’80s
to help combat the economic
recession, and volunteers now
serve nearly 150 meals daily.
“Look at that! That‘s enough
to keep anybody afloat,” she
said of the Breakfast. “For you
guys to be feeding the hungry,
the less fortunate, every day
since 1982, that‘s incredible.
That is awesome. I’m coming
over there and getting me a
meal.”
“I’ve lost my family,” she
said, “but I haven’t lost them. I
still talk to them — I still talk
to Pops, and different things
I see remind me of my sisters,
and I have our music. I can
hear their voices, I have videos,
I watch the tapes, and I smile.
So, I get along fine.”
To live in the face of
impossible
grief,
to
trust
yourself enough to not only
carry on, but to create — I’ve
never known faith that hard,
that honest, that good.
“My
family,
we
started
singing
gospel
songs,
and
that’s telling the truth,” she
said. “Gospel is truth.”
“There’s
something
happening here,” she dropped
to Buffalo Springfield in her
heavy vibrato. “You know,
and these lyrics, they were
dynamite to us ... ‘There’s a
man with a gun over there,
telling me I’ve got to beware’
... This is what we’re supposed
to be doing, singing these
songs.”
Her voice is honey on tough
toast, milk in morning coffee.
She
disrupts
the
delusion
that resilient people can’t feel
scared or soft or sad. They just
have to know who they are.
“My life is full,” she said.
“I’ve been married, divorced,
all that stuff. So, you know, I
don’t want for nothing. I don’t
crave for anything that I can’t
have.”
I asked about the 2018
Newport
Folk
Fest,
where
she sang “The Weight” with
the likes of Marcus Mumford,
Brandi
Carlile,
Phoebe
Bridgers and Maggie Rogers.
For context: People (plural)
texted me “Are you OK??” after
the
performance
surfaced
online.
ose ladies that you named,”
she said, “Maggie, Brandi,
Phoebe — they are the future.
They’re coming strong, they’re
coming strong.”
“I love the young ladies
that are coming along,” she
continued. “They are so sincere
in what they’re doing, and
they’re good writers. They’re
such good writers. This little
girl, Kacey? Kacey Musgraves.”
My gasp was almost shrill. “I
love them to pieces.”
We
talked
about
Norah
Jones and Joni Mitchell and
The Highwomen. She’s selfless
without being self-righteous,
honest but never mean. She
told me about Madison Square
Garden and her fitness center
and at some point, I forgot I
was talking to Mavis Staples
and I asked her for advice.
“You’re going to be great
in whatever you do,” she said.
“Just tell yourself that ...
Believe in yourself and know
that you are following the right
trail, the trail that you want to
follow.”
I could have cried (I did).
“Nobody else can tell you
what you want to do, it’s up
to you. And if you do that, if
you believe — all things are
possible if only you believe.
All things are possible. So you
carry on, and if you need some
help, you call Mavis.”
‘If you need some help, you
call Mavis’: An interview
ANTI- RECORDS
University Symphony Orchestra
recently
hosted
their
first
performance of 2020 at Hill
Auditorium. Conducted by School
of Music, Theatre & Dance faculty
Kenneth Kiesler and composed of
University students, the group is
an elegant portrayal of the musical
talent of both the student body and
the faculty who guide them.
The first piece was George
Gershwin’s incredibly lively “Cuban
Overture.”
Featuring
drums
and shakers uncharacteristic of
a symphonic performance, its
paced
transitions
between
slow
and
fast
playing
mimicked a sense
of day and night in
an intriguing way. I
felt as though I was
being drawn onto
the stage with the
pushes and pulls of
the music. I could
have sworn that in
the midst of “Cuban
Overture,” I heard a
hint of the melody
of “Rhapsody in
Blue,”
another
piece written by
Gershwin. Perhaps
this
musical
interlude
was
intentional,
or,
perhaps, I was just overzealous to
hear my favorite Gershwin piece
live for the first time.
“A banjo?” I turned to some
friends who had accompanied me
to the event. They shared the same
curiosity. The instrument is not
typically part of the symphonic
artillery, so we were eager to hear
its place in “Rhapsody in Blue.” As
it turned out, though, the banjo did
not play a large role in the piece,
and I was disappointed that USO
had not implemented a banjo solo in
their rendition of the historic piece.
One of my favorite parts of
“Rhapsody in Blue” is the piano.
On piano for USO was none other
than Logan Skelton, a pianist
and composer with an expansive
resume
including
stints
with
the Manhattan School of Music
and Missouri State University.
Currently, Skelton is the Professor
of Piano and Director of Doctoral
Studies in Piano Performance here
at the University of Michigan. As I
learned during the performance,
Skelton is a contributor to The
George and Ira Gershwin Critical
Edition of “Concerto in F” and
“Rhapsody in Blue,” and his
expertise on the piece shined
through during his performance. A
dichotomy of strong and light was
evident in his playing, mimicking
the overall mood of pieces like
“Rhapsody in Blue.”
The final piece, “Symphonic
Dances, op. 45,”
written in 1940,
was a set from
one of my favorite
composers,
Sergei
Rachmaninoff
.
This set featured
dichotomous
shifts throughout
each
featured
piece from “op.
45,”
with
a
defined blend of
bass and treble,
soft and harsh
and hurried and
relaxed.
The
USO
performance was
a night of dichotomies, featuring
masterful shifts from slow to fast,
day to night, bass to treble, soft
to abrupt, tense to relaxed and
strong to light. Though these can
be explicitly written down in the
sheet music, it can be very difficult
to actually embody those shifts
or those moods. Without a doubt,
this was the best performance
from any group at the School of
Music, Theatre & Dance that I have
attended, and much of that is due to
the execution of those important
shifts in feeling. I applaud Kiesler,
Skelton and the USO for hitting the
nail on the head with these complex
pieces.
USO’s next performance will
be held on February 24th at Hill
Auditorium.
USO’s masterful
shifts in feeling
MUSIC INTERVIEW
MUSIC INTERVIEW
COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW
ARYA NAIDU
Daily Arts Writer
ZACHARY S. WAARALA
Daily Arts Writer
The USO
performance
was a night of
dichotomies
from slow to
fast, day to
night
Yes, of course,
Miss Mavis
Staples ... was
cursed out by
famed jazz
trumpeteer for
asking about
voice training.
Of course.