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