The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Thursday, February 6, 2020 — 5
P O L I C Y T A L K S @ T H E F O R D S C H O O L
CHRISTOPHER A. HART
Former Chairman of the National
Transportation Safety Board
Photo: Philadelphia International Airport
CL O SUP LEC T URE SERIE S
Opportunities and challenges
of autonomous vehicles:
Role of governments?
CO-SPONSORED BY THE SCIENCE, TECHNOLOGY, AND PUBLIC POLICY PROGRAM (STPP)
Free and open to the public.
Reception to follow.
Information: 734-647-4091 or
closup@umich.edu
@fordschool #policytalks
Monday, February 10, 2020
4:00 - 5:20 pm
Gerald R. Ford School of Public Policy
Annenberg Auditorium, 1120 Weill Hall
735 S. State Street
Frances Quinlan tackles the unpleasant on ‘Likewise’
MUSIC NOTEBOOK
I don’t usually listen to indie
rock, but when I do, it’s for a
good reason. This time around,
the reason is Frances Quinlan.
The Hop Along frontwoman has
decided to grace the world with
her debut solo album Likewise. I
don’t know much about indie rock,
I admit. However, I do know what
makes an outstanding album, and
this is an outstanding album.
Sonically,
Likewise
is
a
gorgeous nine-song romp through
a
glistening
and
glittering
indie rock wonderland. Album
opener “Pilitdown Man” takes
a stroll down a piano-driven
lane as Quinlan sings softly in
a pleasingly off-kilter manner.
“Rare Thing” is a hypnotic spiral
staircase up to synth-pop heaven.
“Went to LA” is a twinkling
acoustic gaze up toward the stars
marked by Quinlan’s ever-present
ruminations on anything and
everything. As a whole, Likewise
is a sonic tour of Quinlan’s world,
a world for everyone, filled with
pleasant little quirks and easter
eggs.
Lyrically, however, Likewise is
something of an oasis. Quinlan is
floating by herself, accompanied
only by her own thoughts and
musings.
She
covers
themes
ranging from climate change,
human compassion, solitude and
even cannibalism. Despite this
range, Quinlan is always laser-
focused, dissecting each topic
with the precision and ease of a
surgeon. This description makes
it seem like Likewise is a sterile
operating room, but it certainly is
not. Rather, it is a messy, scattered
album similar to the natural
world, which Quinlan wrangles
with grace and poise, deftly
handling everything that crosses
her mind.
“Detroit Lake” finds Quinlan
striking
the
perfect
balance
between sonic beauty and lyrical
dismay. She takes listeners to
a
conversation
between
the
narrator and another person, far
away from the namesake lake.
In the song’s chorus, she sings,
“Miles from all that’s between
us at stake / Algae blooms up in
Detroit Lake / Listening for my
turn to come next / Leave, the
same as I came in, more or less.”
Quinlan describes a conversation
running dry, perhaps the sign of
a dying relationship, which, at
the time, seems more important
than the algal bloom in the
distant Detroit Lake. “Detroit
Lake” serves as a reminder
that our actions can have grave
consequences, yet we still are
more concerned about ourselves,
a message that rings true across
the album.
Likewise is a thoughtful album
that is chock-full of compelling
lyrics and ideas, but for some
reason, Quinlan decides to end it
with words that are not her own.
Album closer “Carry the Zero” is
a cover of the Built to Spill song
of the same name, and despite
its status as a cover, it’s so much
more. In a personal album filled
with her thoughts and feelings, it
makes sense that Quinlan chose
to include a cover of one of her
favorite songs. She stays true to
the essence of the song, but she
makes it wholly her own. She
makes it more subdued than the
original, driven by an echoing
synth line that, in true Quinlan
fashion, eventually explodes into
a full band, including blazing
guitar licks and a pulsating bass
line. All the focus is on her as
she perfectly and thoughtfully
delivers each line, closing her
album beautifully.
Likewise finds Frances Quinlan
tackling some pretty complex
themes, but she delivers them in a
relatable, down-to-earth manner,
thanks to her charming persona
and
gorgeous
instrumentals.
Quinlan is sure to make a fan
out of anyone with Likewise. She
certainly just made one out of me.
JIM WILSON
Daily Arts Writer
Convos at Color Caberet
ZOE PHILLIPS
Senior Arts Editor
COMMUNITY CULTURE PREVIEW
Musical theatre tends to be
dominated by whiteness. White
characters breed white casting
and white schooling in a positive
feedback loop that has excluded
artists of color for as long as the
industry is old.
The University’s School of
Music, Theatre & Dance students
know this — they live it. On a recent
rainy
evening,
SMTD Junior
Erica Ito put it this way: “[it’s] a
predominantly white department
in
a
predominantly
white
institution in a predominantly
white field that we are entering
that has a complicated history
with people of color.”
“The Color Cabaret” deals with
all of this. Divided into two parts
over roughly 90 minutes, the
student-run show gives artists of
color opportunities to sing and
perform in roles rarely offered to
them. In the first half, students
take on famous color-consciously
casted songs that make a difference
to
them
as
artists.
Disney
princesses and “Hadestown” are
both set to make an appearance.
The second half takes on iconic
roles in musical theatre that have
not been traditionally performed
by people of color — “Don’t Rain
on My Parade” from “Funny Girl”
and “Music in the Mirror” from
“A Chorus Line” topped Ito’s list
of what to look forward to. The
last few numbers will also tackle
issues of intersectionality.
Ito, who is co-producing the
show alongside SMTD junior
Thani Brant, started work on
the cabaret with a few other MT
upperclassmen back in November.
The show has been an on-and-
off biennial tradition for the past
decade, but Ito and her team have
revamped it into something extra
special for 2020.
The
concept
started
in
conversation
—
specifically,
intergroup dialogues facilitated by
director and SMTD senior Maya
Imani. There, everyone involved
had the chance to voice their
experiences as performers of color.
“These are conversations that
we have with our roommates
at 2 a.m. or coming home from
rehearsal,” Imani said.
She added that bringing such
topics into a formalized space
made people feel “like their
thoughts and opinions about these
things actually do have worth.”
Imani and Ito both noted how
special these dialogues quickly
became,
especially
in
their
accentuation of every individual’s
experience. Both women were
pleasantly surprised by how much
they could still learn from each
other.
Therein lies the theme of
the show, too. It’s “sharing our
experiences with each other,” Ito
said, “and then pushing that into
the audience.”
Later
that
evening,
Imani
echoed
this
exact
sentiment.
“The cabaret is not about making
a political statement,” she said.
The performers are there to listen,
support, validate and celebrate one
another — the audience just gets to
watch.
And while the show has been an
undertaking for its upperclassmen
leadership, the impact is not lost
on MT underclassmen of color,
either. In fact, these dialogues
were the first time the freshmen
had ever been in a room with only
people of color.
“That sheer fact,” Imani said,
reminded her of “how much the
space, and who’s present in the
space, can dictate what you allow
yourself to bring out … How does
being in a predominantly white
space affect your artistry?”
The show might not offer
an answer, but it celebrates
the
opportunity
to
ask
the
question. The weight of such an
opportunity doesn’t go unnoticed
by Ito or Imani. While they both
spoke highly of their supportive
department that works alongside
“The Color Cabaret” rehearsals
and schedule requirements, they
made an important distinction:
the faculty prepares their students
for the musical theatre industry as
it exists today. Ito and Imani are
creating a show for the industry
they’d like to remake for tomorrow.
“The Color Cabaret” plays this
weekend on Friday and Saturday
at 7 p.m. in The Newman Studio
of the Walgreen Drama Center.
Admission is free. Following the
show, the actors will facilitate a
round-table discussion to continue
the conversations on being an
artist of color in musical theatre.
BOOKS NOTEBOOK
On love triangles in fiction
Last week I was reminded of
the horrific love-triangle trope
in young-adult novels when my
friend brought up the “Shatter
Me” series in our book club.
She was a touch too excited
(morbidly so) to share the gory
details: “...and here’s the kicker,
Adam and Warner are the only
people that are able to touch
her. Like, of course, it’s the love
interests that are the kryptonite
to her ‘super-power.’” Tahereh
Mafi’s “Shatter Me” follows
Juliette, a teenage girl who has
a “fatal touch.” That is, after
Juliette touches someone, they
die. At the start of the novel,
she’s locked up in a cell and
hasn’t
experienced
human
touch in years… until Adam.
“Shatter Me” screams “young-
adult dystopia” with the two
male leads following the love-
triangle trope to a T. Adam, the
nice one and Warner, the bad
boy/villain/anti-hero.
After
six sequels, guess which one
Juliette ends up with (cue the
eye-roll and yawn).
Even
though
I’ve
never
read “Shatter Me,” it feels like
I have. The thought of love
triangles triggers the sensation
of cockroaches crawling under
my
skin.
With
a
physical
revolution, I’m yanked back in
time to 5th grade, where I read
about my first love triangle ever:
“Twilight.” It’s true. I ate up the
“Twilight” series like a vampire
after a weekend-long fast from
blood. I was unabashedly Team
Edward, and I felt betrayed
when Bella swayed to Jacob
in “New Moon.” I wanted to
wallow in a ball and shake Bella
out of her werewolf induced
spell, “Edward is the love of
your life!”
Take
my
aforementioned
turbulent
emotions
and
apply them to any of the
following series: “The Mortal
Instruments,”
“The
Infernal
Devices” (Side note — this series
has
unequivocally
deterred
me from love triangles forever.
Tessa, you can’t have your cake
and eat it too!), “The Hunger
Games,” “Vampire Academy,”
“The Selection.” It’s always
the mean playboy with the
traumatic past versus the nice,
bland guy, typically best friends
with our protagonist. With
few exceptions (cough, “The
Hunger Games”), the nice guys
finish last.
Now we return to the age-
old question: If love triangles
are so annoying, then why are
they so popular? Certainly, my
relationship
with
literature
would be so much more stress-
free if not for the dreaded
love-triangle. It’s an idea I’ve
ruminated on quite extensively
in my brief foray back into the
young-adult literature world.
Why introduce a new potential
love interest when it’s (mostly)
clear who the protagonist will
end up with? Then it hit me
— I wouldn’t be reading these
stories in the first place if it
weren’t for their love triangles
(my
masochist
tendencies
notwithstanding of course).
Hear me out, these books
can’t
stand
on
their
own
without the love-triangle. The
love-triangle serves to hide
the nonexistent plot and one-
dimensional
characters
by
upping the tension. If young-
adult novels were mysteries,
the love triangles would be the
equivalent of whodunit plot-
lines. The thing that’s driving
the readers to finish X amount
of sequels to these novels is
the
love-triangle.
Imagine
novels
like
“Shatter
Me,”
“The Selection” or “Twilight”
without the love-triangle. It’s
a stagnant, mushy book — the
literary version of a pint of Ben
& Jerry’s for breakfast, lunch
and dinner. Where’s the flavor?
It’s that elusive uncertainty of
“will they or won’t they?” that
motivates me to pick up the 1000
page hardcover of “Breaking
Dawn,” fully aware that I’m not
cracking that mammoth of a
book to resolve the conflict with
the Volturi.
Despite
the
irritation,
I
sometimes need the spice of a
love triangle in my life. With
my (let’s be honest) absent
love life, the drama of two men
and one girl is alluring. Even
without a plot, I’m flooded with
a whirlwind of emotions: anger,
angst, butterflies and relief.
Let’s face it, love triangles sell
for a reason.
SARAH SALMAN
Daily Arts Writer
TV REVIEW
Ted Bundy doc empowers
Have you heard the name
Karen Sparks? Nancy Wilcox?
Kimberly Leach?
You probably haven’t. But
I can guarantee you’ve heard
the name Ted Bundy. You know
who he is and who he pretended
to be. Chances are, you know
as much about what he did as
you can stomach but very little
about who he did it to. You may
know it’s a much, much longer
list of names than the ones
aforementioned, but you don’t
know all the names. Amazon
Prime’s
new
documentary
series “Ted Bundy: Falling for
a Killer” wants to change that.
Anchored
by
interviews
with
Bundy’s
longtime
girlfriend Elizabeth Kendall,
“Falling
for
a
Killer”
emphasizes the importance of
a woman’s perspective on his
crimes. The series begins with
Kendall describing the blissful
years leading up to Bundy’s
infamous murder spree. Soon,
the domestic tranquility of her
family’s life is juxtaposed with
the savage violence that came
to define her seemingly perfect
partner.
Joined by feminist scholars,
relatives of Bundy’s victims,
female
law
enforcement
officers and a few survivors of
his crimes, Kendall attempts
to explain how Bundy was
able to attack potentially over
100 women within the span of
four years. The series details
how cultural and political
movements influenced Bundy’s
crimes and how the public
understood them at the time.
In
the
mid-1970s,
the
women’s liberation movement
was in full swing, Roe v.
Wade had recently secured
women’s right to choose, and
Republicans were scrambling
to maintain control amidst
Nixon’s
disintegrating
administration. Bundy, who
previously aspired to study
law and become a conservative
politician,
committed
his
murders
at
the
height
of
the university protests and
demonstrations
calling
for
radical social change.
While
the
connection
between cultural movements
and a psychopathic murderer’s
motives may be tenuous, the
link between a systemically
oppressive society and male
violence against women is
undeniable. Kendall and her
daughter, whom Bundy helped
raise, recount anecdotes of his
constant need to control their
wardrobe and social lives. His
reputation in the media as a
criminal mastermind leading
a perfect double life falls
apart when his colleagues and
relatives are able to tell their
own stories.
Capitalizing
on
tragedy
and victims’ pain has become
a characteristic of the true-
crime
genre,
particularly
regarding
the
crimes
of
Ted Bundy. After countless
documentaries
and
2019’s
controversial film “Extremely
Wicked,
Shockingly
Evil
and Vile” starring Zac Efron
(“Baywatch”) as the infamous
killer, the story of Bundy’s
crimes has been repeatedly
rehashed
with
little
new
interpretation. “Ted Bundy:
Falling for a Killer” provides
a response to his version of
events.
One woman interviewed in
“Falling for a Killer” has never
spoken out before. Known to
the public by the pseudonym
Joni Letz, Karen Sparks is
Bundy’s first known victim
and one of his few survivors.
In showing her face and telling
her story, this series seeks to
show its audience what the
point is in revisiting these
events.
Rather
than
immortalize
a
manipulative
rapist
and
murderer, “Falling for a Killer”
opts
to
shift
the
public’s
perspective on the topic and
refocus the true-crime genre’s
values. The show presents
a group of women too often
discounted as a list of names,
rather
than
victims
and
survivors. You know his story.
It’s time to learn theirs.
ANYA SOLLER
Daily Arts Writer
Saddle Creek