Thursday, March 26, 2020 — 6
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

As you can probably tell from my byline, I’m 

The Daily’s community culture columnist. As 

I wrote in my application two years ago, my 

column focuses on “the intersection between 

history, culture and the performing arts.” I’ve 

spent the past two years analyzing performances 

I’ve attended in Ann Arbor and beyond. I’ve 

written about everything from “Mean Girls” to 

“Le Marteau sans Maître.”

But two weeks 

ago, the performing 

arts 
industry 

began to change. 

It began with late 

night shows taping 

without audiences 

and concerts being 

live-streamed from 

empty concert halls. 

The 
University 

made plans to limit 

concert attendance 

while 
continuing 

some 
School 
of 

Music, Theatre & 

Dance events.

By the following 

week, the entire 

industry was shut 

down. 
Broadway 

was dark, Coachella 

was 
postponed 

from 
April 
to 

October. 
The 

Metropolitan 

Opera canceled the remainder of its season 

and lost $60 million as a result. The University 

canceled all concerts and events of any size 

before locking the rehearsal and performance 

facilities under the governor’s order. 

As I sat in my childhood bedroom trying 

to write this column — the University having 

all but demanded that students leave campus 

— I struggled to write another column about 

recent performances and trends I noticed in the 

performing arts. It felt as though entire concert 

seasons, entire productions, had been canceled 

in a period of two short weeks.

At the beginning of March, I was excited for 

the premieres of three of my creative works. I 

was also excited for countless performances by 

and premieres from friends across the country 

that I planned on attending. At this point, one 

week from the end of March, every one of these 

performances has been canceled or postponed 

indefinitely.

I had plans to attend a summer music festival 

and intern with a professional performing arts 

organization. My internship has been canceled 

outright; the status of my summer festival 

remains uncertain. For those friends who are 

about to graduate, jobs in the performing arts 

industry are disappearing. 

Trying to write a column about the 

performing arts this week — trying to find 

anything, in essence, to take issue with or 

comment on — seemed disrespectful. The entire 

industry seems to be in free fall, the bottom not 

yet in sight. Any issues I might have with specific 

works or performance practices felt trivial.

It’s not as though we haven’t seen performers 

and performing arts organizations attempt 

to respond to this 

crisis. 
Hundreds 

of performing arts 

organizations have 

moved 
much 
of 

their creative work 

to the realm of 

online 
streaming. 

Audiences 
at 

home can watch 

performances 

by 
most 
major 

orchestras 
and 

operas 
free 
of 

charge. And more 

performers 
have 

taken 
to 
various 

online services to 

share their artistic 

work that I could 

possibly 
try 
to 

recount 
in 
one 

sentence.

Last 
week, 
I 

was 
touched 
to 

see Broadway star 

Laura Benanti share a tweet from MUSKET 

producer Alexandra Niforos about “The Wiz,” 

MUSKET’s canceled production of the semester. 

These rounds of cancelations have served as 

a great equalizer, relegating artists from high 

school to the professional world, at least for the 

time being, to social media.

And though these social media posts may 

be fun, the outlook for the entire community 

remains bleak. The Metropolitan Opera faced 

significant backlash recently after it sent 

fundraising emails to soloists it had just laid 

off. While the specifics of this case may seem 

hypocritical — as of now, the organization’s 

administrative staff continues to be paid while 

musicians and performers are not — the end 

result is the same: Everyone is struggling to stay 

afloat. This epidemic has, in the space of two 

weeks, dragged most of the performing arts 

community underwater.

On Community Culture 
in the age of Coronavirus

SAMMY SUSSMAN

Daily Community Culture Column

SADHANA RAMASESHADRI

“I got people for that shit.” Abbreviating 

the phrase to PFTS, Kevin Gillepsie, one of the 

contestants in the new season of “Top Chef: All 

Stars,” says he has his own kitchen staff in his 

restaurants who perform the menial kitchen 

tasks that the contestants are now expected to 

perform on the show. For the show’s contestants, 

many of whom have their own restaurants, PFTS 

is the overarching sentiment of the new season 

— a competition filled with tasks resembling the 

kitchen grunt’s stress-filled trip down memory 

lane. 

You, the viewer at home, might use PFTS 

when you receive something that you personally 

dislike but know of others who would appreciate 

that item. The season premiere of “Top Chef: 

All Stars” is one of these items: an anxiety-

inducing, tumultuous start that is occasionally 

problematic.

Competition cooking shows typically attract 

the enthusiastic, young 

and cocky journeymen 

and industry-hopefuls 

of the culinary trade. 

The current season of 

“Top Chef” provides 

a twist — allowing 

competitors 
(but 

not the winners) of 

previous seasons to 

claim their own Top 

Chef title alongside 

a 
cash 
prize 
of 

$250,000. The talent 

pool is particularly 

strong: Many of the 

competitors, 
after 

their initial losses on 

the show throughout 

the seasons have become celebrated chefs in 

their own right. Some, such as Gregory Courdet 

and Karen Akunowicz, have even earned the 

coveted James Beard Award for Best New 

Restaurant. 

Yet much of the prestige and gravitas of these 

accolades is immediately stripped away with the 

season’s first Quickfire Challenge — a mise en 

place race of coring artichoke hearts, supreming 

oranges and deshelling almonds, a contest that 

will ultimately determine the composition of 

the three groups for the next round. As many 

of the contestants rush through the contest, the 

judges, in particular Tom Colicchio, critique the 

overall messiness of many of the contestants’ 

final products. Much of the critique focuses on 

several contestants’ rustiness toward preparing 

the ingredients on hand — the contestants 

who manage to create passable or even cleanly 

prepared final products do not get much time in 

the spotlight. Bravo’s editors instead choose to 

linger on those who create sloppy deliverables 

instead.

And then, as if on cue, comes the PFTS 

comment. Yet in the context of the Quickfire 

Challenge, you may find PFTS to be a flimsy, 

catch-all fallback to any shortcoming that a 

contestant may face throughout the remainder 

of the season. 

You’ll find there is little drama that unfurls 

among the contestants — something the editors 

at Bravo try to substitute with dizzying flurries of 

jump cuts and close-up shots of the contestants’ 

hands prepping their dishes. Most of the drama is 

a result of technical errors: Errors you might find 

unacceptable in the confines of your own home 

may become understandable in a restaurant or 

competition setting. Not splashing liquid oil on 

an open flame may seem like a no-brainer to 

many, but it can be easy to be oblivious when 

your fish fillets, meant to be served among the 

greatest culinary heavyweights, are aggressively 

sticking to the unseasoned beach grill.

If you are to be particularly discerning, you 

may bristle at both 

the show’s insidious 

labeling and defining 

of “Asian” cuisine. An 

“Asian” aioli called so 

only due to its usage 

of citrus juice and fish 

sauce, another “Asian” 

aioli 
spiked 
with 

miso, parmesan and 

a hibiscus ponzu are 

consumed by a judging 

panel, all of whom 

(aside 
from 
Padma 

Lakshmi) are not of 

Asian 
descent. 
For 

many of these sauces 

who are created by 

contestants who, aside 

from Lee Anne Wong and her miso aioli, are not 

East Asians and then subsequently are critiqued 

by a non-East Asian panel raises a subtle 

question. Who are the creative voices and talents 

who have the power and privilege to create, 

showcase and define East Asian ingredients, 

and who with power and privilege can judge 

these dishes and ingredients? These are heavy 

questions to consider, and not questions that a 

show with levity and American-centric ideals 

such as “Top Chef” can answer.

But ultimately, the “Top Chef” premiere 

offers an exhilarating peak of a show in which 

passionate culinary creatives continually hone 

their craft by competing amongst each other 

under the watchful eyes of Tom Colicchio, 

Padma Lakshmi and Gail Simmons. This is the 

show you would recommend to those who enjoy 

watching the spectacles of action and conflict 

flash upon their screens.

‘Top Chef’ is an exhilarating 
flurry of food and action

BRENDON CHO
Daily Arts Writer

NBC UNIVERSAL TELEVISION DISTRIBUTION

DAILY COMMUNITY CULTURE COLUMN

Read more online at 

michigandaily.com

‘Top Chef’

Season 17 Premiere

Bravo

Thursdays 10 p.m. EST

There will be a 

point in time when 

physical proximity and 
coexistence induce not 

fear but beauty

TV REVIEW

