This piece is part of a series on “Art during 

COVID,” an exploration of art forms to keep 
our idle minds creative during this pandemic. 
With many of us at home, our minds have 
ample time to wander, wonder and create. 
This series highlights accessible and immer-
sive art forms to both produce and consume 
during the pandemic months and beyond.

I’m sure every Ann Arbor student 

remembers where they were when they 
heard the news that would change the rest 
of their semester. I was standing by the stor-
age cubicles of aUM Yoga Studio when my 
phone started erupting with text messages: 
University classes were moving online. 
Overwhelmed by the sudden flood of infor-
mation, I powered my phone off, folded it 
inside my jacket and tucked the bundle deep 
inside the cubicle. I could afford to stay in 
denial for one more hour. 

As I walked into the yoga room, the irony 

of it all hit me: I’d received life-changing 
information seconds before starting a yoga 
class, a space that encourages detaching 
from the external world and turning your 
attention inwards. I heard jittery whispers 
as I unrolled my mat, all in disregard of 
the sign hung on the front door, “We honor 
noble silence.” 

That March 11 class was one of my last at 

aUM’s studio, located on the corner of South 
University and South Forest Avenues. Less 
than a week later, aUM Yoga owner Jessie 
Lipkowitz decided to move all classes to a 
virtual platform, as did other yoga studios in 
downtown Ann Arbor. Shortly after, I found 
myself in my childhood home, isolated from 
my friends and sorely missing Ann Arbor. 

But I didn’t give up my yoga practice. 

After frustrating hours of online classes, 
too much screen time and too little social 
contact, an hour of yoga has kept me going 
from day to day. I see yoga as art for the 
body. By the end of a practice, I’ve created 
something — a series of movements, a new 
energy, a cultivated breath. My body is the 
vehicle that creates and carries this energy 
and breath, allowing it to execute postures 
and balances. I take comfort in knowing 
that this art can be created with virtually 
no materials or preparation, but can be just 
as exciting and cathartic as painting a mas-
terpiece. 

If you’ve been hesitant to try yoga, I 

was once in your shoes. I was skeptical of 
exercising in a sauna-like room, of judge-
ment from other students, of the countless 
Lululemon logos emblazoned on leggings, 
sports bras, even yoga mats. At the same 
time, I knew that yoga had often received 
the short end of the stick, labeled as a rich 
people’s form of exercise, an exaggerated 
form of spirituality, movement shrouded 
with mystical meaning. After three years of 
practicing, the expense and branding asso-
ciated with yoga still bothers me. But if you 
can put this aside and focus on the art itself 
(which can be accessed on free platforms), 
the benefits are unparalleled. 

The health advantages of yoga are well 

known. Many osteopathic medical schools 
in the U.S. include yoga in their curriculum 
as a form of preventative medicine and nat-
ural healing. For me, the emotional benefits 
of yoga have been the reason I come back to 
my mat every day. A yoga practice forces me 
to remember that my mental strength is just 
as valuable as my physical strength. Even if 
I start a class relaxed and calm, I somehow 
come out even more grounded and mindful. 
It’s a feeling that I want everyone to experi-
ence. 

7

Thursday, May 21, 2020

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com ARTS

Yoga practice: a balm 
for pandemic stress

TRINA PAL 

Daily Arts Writer

TV NOTEBOOK
SUMMER SERIES
SUMMER SERIES

‘Moominvalley’ is a 
cozy, profound show

Many unexpected developments have 

happened over the course of the past several 
months, but for me, the most unexpected has 
been my new-found love for a family of furry 
hippo-like trolls. It started at the beginning 
of the fall semester, when I noticed a stuffed 
hippo-creature my Finnish friend had. I 
asked what it was, and she informed me that 
it was a “Moomin,” a cartoon troll that’s 
immensely popular in Finland. I didn’t give 
the matter much thought, and the Moom-
ins receded from my mind for much of the 
next six months, rearing their heads every so 
often to remind me of their existence. 

Fast-forward to around the start of quar-

antine. I already felt pretty homesick for 
Ann Arbor, and was rather dejected, if not 
totally bored, by the entire situation. I sup-
pose this primed me for the pending visit 
by the Moomins, because they soon inched 
back into my periphery, thousands of miles 
from Finland, in the form of music. More 
specifically, music from an animated Finn-
ish television series called “Moominval-
ley” that premiered in 2019. The series’ 
soundtrack and list of featured artists hap-
pened to appeal to my favorite genres of folk 
and indie-pop (which is probably why Spo-
tify recommended it to me in the first place), 
and so I happily let the soft and upbeat melo-
dies envelope me, at first not realizing the 
origins of the song. 

After listening to the first track, I checked 

the album it was from and, to my surprise, 
there was a group of Moomins staring back 
at me. In spite of my bewilderment, I lis-
tened on. This was the point of no return, 

and there was no averting the collision 
course I was on with the Moomins. It wasn’t 
long after that my curiosity gained the better 
of me, and, wanting to hear the songs in con-
text, I watched the first episode of the 2019 
adaptation. And then another. And another. 
Needless to say, the Moomins were just what 
I needed while isolated in quarantine.

As it turns out, the Moomins are much 

more profound than I at first believed. Cre-
ated by Finnish-Swedish writer Tove Jans-
son in 1945, the Moomins are a family of 
trolls consisting of Moominmamma, Moom-
inpappa and their son, Moomintroll. Stories 
typically follow Moomintroll and the adven-
tures he has with his friends. Debuting in 
a series of children’s books, the Moomins 
were surprisingly progressive for their time 
— Jansson wove feminist and queer themes 
throughout her stories, using her charac-
ters to encourage acceptance of these ideas. 
Maybe it was Jansson’s openness about 
her own bisexuality, or her being raised by 
accepting parents, but regardless of the rea-
son, Jansson’s creations have always rein-
forced the importance of unabashed love. 

However, these elements weren’t what 

drew me into “Moominvalley.” Though the 
sincere stories added to the charm, the show 
itself was a source of radiance and warmth. 
I went for a walk through the woods the 
other day, and as the warm sunlight filtered 
in through the trees and the leaves crunched 
beneath my feet, I felt relaxed. Watching 
“Moominvalley” felt a bit like that. The way 
that the animation worked in tandem with 
the music and story just struck a chord with 
me.

TATE LAFRENIER

Senior Arts Editor

Read more at michigandaily.com

