Eight live performances. Three humanities credits. Experience the performing arts up close and behind the scenes.

Engaging Performance (Winter 2020) connects undergraduate students directly to the touring, world-class artists who perform music, theater, and dance on the U-M campus. Students will attend live performances, talk with the artists and the arts administrators who help get them here, and explore how the performing arts are an integral part of our lives and the world at large.

Class will include lectures (including some by guests and visiting artists), required attendance at evening performances, interactive classroom activities, weekly readings, response papers about the performances, and presentations from students in class.

Students will attend live performances of:

• • The Believers Are But Brothers (Jan 22-25, evenings)
  • White Feminist (Feb 6 at 11:40 am)
  • Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán (Feb 14 at 8 pm)
  • Dorrance Dance (Feb 21-22, evenings)
  • Tarek Yamani Trio (Mar 13 at 8 pm)
  • New York Philharmonic String Quartet (Sun Mar 22 at 4 pm)
  • HOME (Apr 3-4)
  • Zakir Hussain (Apr 9 at 7:30 pm)

These performances constitute the course’s primary “texts,” and the full package of tickets is available to students enrolled in the course for the dramatically reduced rate of $120. Engaging Performance is made possible through a grant from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and a partnership between the University of Michigan and the University Musical Society (UMS).

Course Information

MUSPERF 200.001, ALA 260.001, HISTORY 230.002
Instructors: Victoria Langland and Mark Clague

Meets Tuesdays & Thursdays
11:30 am – 1 pm
Angell Hall G127

Register Online

By the end of this class students will be able to:

• Rigorously describe live performance
• Imagine how performance asks questions about the world
• Identify how structural choices vary across performances
• Identify various elements of a performance and discuss how they impact one another
• Have knowledge of tools necessary to research a performance’s historical and social context prior to attending a live performance
• Consider how performance might be a mode of research—a way not just to ask a question, but to investigate that question in motion, through sound, etc.
• Learn more about the UMS and what it offers to students

Is it for me?

No previous knowledge of the performing arts is required from students! It is open to undergraduates at all levels and across all departments at the University of Michigan; no previous experience or special training in arts is required.

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Engaging Performance is made possible through a grant from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and a partnership between the University of Michigan and the University Musical Society (UMS).

As part of the UMS residency with New York Philharmonic, Jamie and Jessica, students from the U-M School of Music, Theatre & Dance, performed on stage with the orchestra at Hill Auditorium.

Go behind-the-scenes from audition to performance in this video.

Learn more about the 2017-18 season concerts and residency experience.

UMS and the New York Philharmonic went Off The Grid for two pop-up concerts with New York Philharmonic musicians and University of Michigan School of Music, Theatre & Dance students at Avalon and Fred’s in Ann Arbor on November 16, 2017.

Full New York Philharmonic concerts and residency information.

One celebration. 24 hours. One generous match.
Give to inspire students of all ages.

Today is Giving Blueday, and we’re seeking to raise $100,000 to support creative learning experiences at UMS that connect students of all ages with innovative performing artists from around the globe.

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U-M alums, who support UMS, have made a generous commitment to match 1:1 all new gifts to support student experiences at UMS made online on Giving Blueday — not only new gifts from new donors, but also increased giving from those who already support UMS annually. And of course we welcome all gifts from loyal UMS supporters to help us reach our goal that day!

Join us and thousands across the University of Michigan community to support extraordinary student experiences at Michigan.

Your gift to UMS on Giving Blueday will support:

UMS 21st Century Artist Internships

Each summer, UMS offers paid summer internships that give undergraduate students real-world experience, working behind the scenes with professional artists and ensembles from around the world that UMS will present the following season. When students return to campus, they help welcome the visiting artists to Ann Arbor and host a variety of educational and community engagement activities for their peers on campus.

In this video, 21st Century Intern Johnny Mathews shares his experience with Urban Bush Women in New York City, which UMS presents in January, 2018.

Discounted Student Tickets

College students account for 20% of the UMS audience. To ensure they have access to the best and most innovative artists from around the globe, UMS provides $12, and $20 student tickets to our mainstage performances — reflecting a 67% effective discount and over $420,000 in generous ticket subsidies.

Pictured: students at a January dance performance with Igor & Moreno that surprised and delighted audiences.

UMS Engaging Performance Course

A unique undergraduate class where students from across campus attend UMS mainstage performances, connect directly with visiting artists in class, and get to explore a variety of art forms and themes, often around relevant social issues. Rave reviews highlight how the class has opened students to new ideas and given them the opportunity to connect and collaborate with peers from a wide range of academic disciplines.

UMS School Day Performances and In-School Workshops

Each season, thousands of young students from across Southeast Michigan have access to extraordinary learning experiences that inspire and motivate. They bring a contagious and joyful enthusiasm to UMS School Day Performances and participate in free pre- and post-show workshops back at school, where they have the chance to explore an artist’s work in more depth and try similar creations — all connected to what they’re learning in class.

Be a Victor for the Arts at UMS.

And give the gift of uncommon and engaging learning experiences. Join us for Giving Blueday.

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Talk Out: Ragamala Dance Company – School Day Performance | UMS presents from UMS (University Musical Society) on Vimeo.

After each UMS K-12 School Day Performance, students get the chance to reflect on the stage. Hear what students had to say after seeing Ragamala Dance on October 20, 2017.

This post is part of a series of posts by students who are part of our 21st Century Student Internship program. As part of the paid internship program, students spend several weeks with a company that’s on the UMS season.

U-M student Alice Schmitz was paired with The Knights in Summer 2017. The Knights are in Ann Arbor on November 12, 2017.

Photos: On left, a view of the Hudson River from the park next to my apartment. On right, a shot of a double rainbow taken from a subway car in Brooklyn.

While it was inevitable that I would listen to The Knights, a chamber orchestra hailing from Brooklyn, New York, as a classical bass student in college, I first learned of The Knights because of my love of the banjo. As a middle-schooler, I fell in love with bluegrass and listened to Béla Fleck’s recordings religiously. So when Béla Fleck performed a concert an hour and a half outside of my home in Minneapolis, my mom and I, of course, drove out to see him perform. He collaborated with a string quartet founded by two brothers, Eric and Colin Jacobsen, who also, as chances would have it, had recently started an orchestra called The Knights. So when I learned this May that I would be interning with The Knights, with a start date just a week away, it felt like fate. To work with an ensemble that has collaborated with the likes of Yo-Yo Ma, Gil Shaham, and the rock band Dr. Dog, was beyond any of my expectations for this experience.

Photos: On left, the orchestra rehearses at the Naumburg Bandshell for its performance that evening. On right, members of The Knights perform with Lisa Loeb for a family concert at the Celebrate Brooklyn! Festival.

I think the picture below almost captures the essence of The Knights’ spirit that made their vision so enticing and invigorating to me. I took it during my first evening as a Knights intern, during a celebration for BLUESHIFT, a group of donors the ensemble created to allow young donors the same access to the ensemble and its creative process as other supporters. In the photo, a baby doll lies next to the remains of a barbecue while the audience listens to a Colin Jacobsen’s performance of a Schubert Sonatina, which, Colin casually mentions, would also be performed at the Tanglewood Festival later that summer alongside the legendary Immanuel Ax.

The scene, like The Knights, was the perfect intersection of the exceptional and the everyday. The Knights’ model is revolutionary because they acknowledge and embrace the fact that classical music does not belong on a pedestal, separated from its audience, but rather classical music should be folded into the fabric and beauty of the life of every member of the ensemble’s vast community of listeners. Knights coexist in both the world of Tanglewood and the Elbphilharmonie and the world of Brooklyn parks and breweries. While some ensembles performing the classical repertoire have confined themselves to a rote form, canon, and setting, The Knights easily adjust themselves to any circumstance and eagerly seek a broad range of these circumstances.

Photos: On left, a baby doll lies next to the remains of a barbecue while the audience listens to a Colin Jacobsen’s performance of a Schubert Sonatina. On right, a rehearsal for the Tanglewood performance in the same space.

The Knights’ administrative office, where I spent the majority of my internship, is located in a Brooklyn townhouse, tucked on the floor between the apartments of the two artistic directors of the orchestra, Colin and Eric Jacobsen. As an intern in a small and dynamic team of administrators, I was able to participate in virtually all facets of the work which make The Knights’ success possible.

I researched opportunities for funding, assisted at rehearsals, drafted grant proposals, and learned about the National Endowment for the Arts guidelines, all the while chatting about punk operas and jazz masses with my coworkers. I was also generously included in community engagement meetings, a post-concert celebration in Central Park, and a board meeting. The Kinghts board includes both leaders of brand-name companies and record labels and members of the orchestra. The whiteboard I sat next to at the office was a daily reminder of the ensemble’s commitment to honoring their members’ needs in this way, covered with notes on how to improve the rehearsal process and support the lives and of the musicians.

Photos: On left, lunch with The Knights office staff on the last day of my internship. On right, fellow intern Patricia and I staff the merchandise table during a performance at the Celebrate Brooklyn! Festival.

It is, of course, impossible to write about spending the summer as an arts intern in New York City without mentioning the city itself. In the six weeks I spent living in New York, I was able to attend more performances, exhibitions, and cultural events than I had attended in the past year. During my very first two days in the city, I watched the New York Philharmonic from the VIP section of their concert in Central Park, stumbled upon a musical in a subway station, and scored free tickets to a performance by one of my childhood idols in a tiny eyewear shop. Living in an apartment in the heart of Washington Heights, I would fall asleep to Despacito outside and wake to my apartment-mate working on material for his noise album.

Photos: On left, a musical performance at the Fulton Street Station I discovered after getting lost on the subway. On right, meeting a childhood hero, vocalist José James, after his performance at an eyewear store.

Working with The Knights in one of the most dynamic cities in the world was the most empowering and enriching experience I have ever had.  I am extremely indebted for the warmth and support I experienced as an intern in the ensemble’s office, and for this internship opportunity, without which none of this would have been possible. I cannot wait to enjoy a performance by The Knights on November 12 in Ann Arbor, this time with Avi Avital and Kinan Azmeh. Having spent hours researching and writing about this program for a grant supplement, I can promise that this concert is not one to be missed!

See The Knights on November 12, 2017.

Last year, we worked with 400+ students and teachers during a residency with Ping Chong + Company. What happened may brighten your day.

UMS hosted Ping Chong + Company for an extended artistic residency during the 2017-18 performance season. This residency involved a diverse population ranging from public events, University groups, and seven high schools from throughout southeast Michigan.

This post is part of a series of posts by students who are part of our 21st Century Student Internship program. As part of the paid internship program, students spend several weeks with a company that’s on the UMS season.

U-M student Tegan Faran was paired with the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra in Summer 2016. The group returns to Ann Arbor with pianist Chick Corea on March 31, 2018.

Left: A sunny day in NYC is well spent exploring Central Park. This was a favorite spot especially thanks to the nearby Dominican ice cream vendors. Right: Serenaded by 2 students of JALC’s WeBop Class learning about the instruments of a jazz band. All photos by Teagan Faran.

New York City is beyond famous. A museum on every corner, neighborhoods full of culture from every corner of the world, everywhere you look the Big Apple is the supreme destination for any tourist. Anyone staying in the city any longer may notice other (un)endearing traits: over-friendly rodents, the same faces camping out on the same subway stairs night after night, that very distinct aroma of over 8 million people sharing the same space. Amidst this wild jungle of life, though, an organization stands as the obvious crown jewel of NYC: Jazz at Lincoln Center. Overlooking the Central Park entrance at Columbus Circle, J@LC works to enliven an American art form, unite the people of NYC, and simply bring joy to as many as possible.

Left: fellow intern Kristina and I demonstrate the props for Essentially Ellington Festival’s social media booth. Right: Watching overhead as Wynton Marsalis directs a JLCO rehearsal.

Having only been in Manhattan for a single weekend before this summer, I had no clue what I was getting myself into when I stepped off the plane at LaGuardia. All I can say is that Manhattan truly lived up to its reputation of being a wild place to live!

I began my internship with the Education Department right as the fantastic whirlwind that is their Essentially Ellington Festival started up. The festival is the finale of the year-long program that Jazz at Lincoln Center has put together. Inspired by the idea that jazz should belong to everyone, J@LC has made numerous amateur-level jazz band scores available to schools all over the world. Schools that wish to compete in the Festival can send in a recording of their band playing some of these charts. From all these applicants, fifteen get to travel to New York to compete. The weekend is so much more than a competition, though; each day the students and teachers were immersed in the culture of jazz. Late night jam sessions, workshops with JLCO members, and a chance to perform in Frederick P. Rose Hall – these students truly got the treatment for this weekend!

Left: The majority of a successful show takes place backstage. Monitors in the back hallway track the artists on the Appel Room stage. Right: A performance in the Appel Room gives the audience two shows: musicians on stage and the city that never sleeps through the window.

It was my job to make sure that all of this happened smoothly. I was given a walkie-talkie and a brief tour of back stage before being set off into the crowd of excited students. I began by ushering a band from Utah over to their classroom for their first coaching with a JLCO member. I sat in the back of Dizzy’s watching the band rehearse and listening to Sherman Irby’s carefully thought-out critiques and encouragements. All the while, happy and nervous parents paced the back of the hall, telling me all about how hard the band had worked to prepare for the festival. The bands were also encouraged to get to know each other better throughout the weekend, and by the time the final ceremony ended, Rose Hall was filled with an obvious air of camaraderie and love.

Left: Speaking with the effervescently kind Cat Henry, VP of Concerts and Touring, about a career in arts administration. Right: I was lucky to meet Erika Floreska, former UMS employee, who now runs a community music school in Manhattan.

While all of this was happening, I was simultaneously discovering just what it took to live in Manhattan. Troubles with my housing situation led me to staying in about eight or nine different places in my seven and a half weeks in New York (forgive me, if I’ve lost track of the exact number!). I began to figure out which streets to avoid after sunset and learned how to avoid persistent cat-callers. Ever caring, however, my supervisors in the Education Department took me under their wing and helped to lessen the learning curve of Manhattan life. And this is what made my internship and this organization so incredibly noteworthy: the people behind the idea.

Left: Wherever you turn in NYC, there is ample opportunity to be a tourist. Looking back on Manhattan, the sun breaks past the World One Observatory. Right: My home for two months at Columbus Circle.

Rewind for a second, back to my very first day with J@LC. I was sat down in a conference room and given a large stack of papers – some to sign, but mostly to read. In these packets were the words written by Wynton Marsalis about this very organization. “The mission of Jazz at Lincoln Center is to entertain, enrich, and expand a global community for Jazz…we believe Jazz is a metaphor for Democracy…it inspires us to face adversity with persistent optimism,” reads the organization’s mission statement online. The packet I was given included Mr. Marsalis’s expanded ideas on this topic and his guidelines for how J@LC is to be run. I heard it said at some point that he runs the office in the same way he runs a rehearsal: everyone is responsible for their own ideas and strategies, but all are working towards the common goal.

Left: Band members and parents file past for the 2016 Essentially Ellington Competition. Right: A city saturated in culture! I enjoyed walking from Columbus Circle to see shows by the American Ballet Theatre and the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center.

Manhattan is loud in a busy, noisy, smelly way, and a person begins to look for quiet wherever she can find it. Identifying your favorite patch of grass in Central Park, ducking into that French bookstore to admire the constellations on the ceiling, or grabbing a dollar ice cream scoop from the Dominican shop on the corner, these all make for great meditation. My absolute favorite place in Manhattan, however, has to be the backstage hallway leading to the Appel Room. One of J@LC’s main stages, the Appel Room sets the band up with a glass backdrop that opens to a view to Columbus Circle in all its mayhem. As the band swings, taxis stream by and tiny people scurry across the crosswalk beneath. It was here that I spent my first weekend in the Concerts and Touring department.

Acting as a musician’s assistant, I got exposed to the behind-the-scenes world of making sure all the artists had water and towels and any other necessary commodity in order to ensure their best performance. The most important part of my time with Concerts and Touring was not the quick trips to Whole Foods to buy backstage snacks or the in-office historical work, but rather the opportunity to join in this “jazz family.” Every single person I met was so immediately ready to be a close friend and an ally. Even after the show ended, I would run into musicians on the subway and be greeted by a warm hug and a smile. A few of us even ended up at one of the free Concerts in the Parks programs, determined to hear greats such as McCoy Tyner in person. As we walked to the park, we saw the clouds getting darker but pushed onward anyhow. Even as the rain began to pour down, we laughed and grooved along to the musicians on stage. Afterwards, we wrung out our jackets on the subway and laughed together about the concert.

Photo: A life changing show by Christian McBride at the famous Blue Note jazz club.

The idea of the Jazz Family came out in full form one bright, Sunday afternoon as the JLCO gathered a crowd to remember the Great Joe Temperly. A stoically happy occasion, the JLCO and students of Mr. Temperly came together to share stories and treat everyone to a New Orleans-esque jam in honor of the late tenor saxophonist. Though the room was full of strangers, this music truly united everyone present. This is what J@LC exemplifies in their work every single day.

I am beyond grateful to the UMS and to Jazz at Lincoln Center for this internship opportunity. There are so many more stories that I would love to share about my time in New York City, but I can say one thing for sure: the level of inspiration and brotherhood that I experienced this summer can be experienced every time the JLCO hits the stage. They are a truly magical ensemble and organization.

This Spring, welcome back to Ann Arbor, JLCO, we are so excited to have you here.

See the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra with Chick Corea on March 31, 2018.

Updated 6/2/2017

Photo: Prague Philharmonia. The orchestra performs at Hill Auditorium on Thursday, January 19, 2017 at 7:30pm. Photo courtesy of the artist.

In January 2017, UMS brings an international musical talent—and newfound legacy— the PKF, or Prague Philharmonia. The group was founded in 1994 to revive the Czech and global music scene through top-class nuanced performances. The musicians pride themselves in their comfort with the genre of Viennese Classicism.

The orchestra describes their sound as follows: “The spirit of the art from this historical period is perfectly reflected in the PKF – Prague Philharmonia credo: to play with crystal-clear purity and a straightforward, sparkling passion that will ensure that every listener, regardless of age or profession, may understand every detail of the music performed and return home from its concerts full of joie de vivre.”

In a sit-down interview, University of Michigan School of Music, Theater and, Dance and Center for Russian and East European Studies Professor Tim Cheek, shares his thoughts on the country, the culture, and the upcoming program. Professor Cheek teaches Czech vocal literature classes at SMTD as well as serving on the faculty for the CREES.

Daniel Anthony Iammatteo: What is a unique thing about Chechia?

Karlštejn Castle. Photo by Ввласенко.

Tim Cheek: The castles are amazing. And they are actually in great condition. The Karlštejn castle outside of Prague is like one from a Disney movie. Well, with a dungeon.

DI: What is something that Czech people love?

TC: Beer! The Czech love their beer. Chechia actually has the largest consumption of beer in the world (per capita). Especially if you eat some greasy cuisine, such as duck, the beer aids your digestion.

DI: What is your favorite Czech beer?

TC: Their Pilsner is number one. It comes from the city of Pilsen. You can find this in America in a bottle, but in Czech you can get this on tap. You can’t beat it on tap and if you ask them, they can mix light and dark beer which is really good.

DI: What are some interesting Czech words audience members might be interested in knowing?

TC: Well, “Vltava” is named after the river that runs through Prague. Another one is Smetana. The name actually means “cream.” So, you can ask someone if they want Smetana in their coffee. In Czech that is actually really common. People’s last names are often ordinary words like Mr. Happy—“Vesely”—even Mr. Sad—“Smutny.” So you can say, Mr. Sad is feeling happy today, and that can be rather funny.

DI: What is popular in Czech pop culture?

TC: Well, Karel Gott can be regarded as the Frank Sinatra of Czech. He was very popular. Of rock, I know that The Plastic People of the Universe was big in the avant-garde scene of the seventies. The biggest musician I know of is definitely Emil Vikilicky, though. He was famous for taking Czech folk music and putting a modern Jazz twist on it. He was widely played on the radio.

DI: What values are important to the Czech?

TC: They love nature. They frequently go mushroom picking and blueberry picking in the forest. They prefer to get outside of the city because it taps into their ethics. The Czech are generally an extremely resourceful people. They learned from their past to be flexible and deal with any kind of shortcoming. In fact, of communist countries of the previous centuries, it was considered the most developed and richest. It was Bismarck who said, “Whoever control Bohemia controls Europe.” This was because at that time the Czech had the best army and the world’s fifth largest economy.

DI: What makes this Czech-heavy program special?

TC: Czechs are known as exporters of great hockey and Bohemian Crystal, but the main export is actually music. [The Czech have] a rich tradition of folk music, and those traditions, with some support by government, are maintained. Czech composers tapped into this wealth of folk roots, and it is these roots which put composers such as Dvořák on the map. In fact, when Dvořák came over to the U.S., he wrote home that he was shocked by how American symphonies have to rely so much on private donations and sponsors. It meant that the people had to come to concerts rather than rely on the government for support, and this meant making conservative programs, so as not to scare audiences away.

DI: Do you think the program that the PFK- Prague Philharmonia has chosen is a conservative program?

TC: Yes, it is a pretty conservative program, but great! Well, the Dvořák Violin Concerto is actually a very impressive piece. In fact, Stephen Shipps, a professor on the Violin faculty here, told me once that he thinks it’s probably the hardest violin concerto there is. But, regardless, their program will showcase soloists, orchestra, and Czech music.

Come join UMS for the performance of the Prague Philharmonia and sample a piece of the Czech music scene. It’s sure to be a night that you will Praguably enjoy! The Prague Philharmonia is performs at Hill Auditorium on Thursday, January 19, 2017 at 7:30 pm.

Did you know that UMS offers a series of school day performances throughout the season? Performances serve kindergarten through high school students, and teachers receive UMS learning guides to facilitate meaningful connections between the performance and classroom curriculum.

Here’s what two students had to say about ukulele star Jake Shimabukuro:

Find out more about attending UMS School Day Performances.

Editor’s note: This post is part of a series of reflections from students who are part of UMS’s 21st Century Student Internship program. As part of the paid internship program, students spend several weeks with a company that’s on the UMS season. U-M student Zoey Bond was paired with Druid Theatre Company. The company will perform in Ann Arbor March 9-11, 2017.

When UMS asked if I would be interested in interning with Druid Theatre Company’s production of The Beauty Queen of Leenane in Dublin, I was beyond ecstatic. I was, at the time, in London spending the semester training at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA). The opportunity to further my relationship with European theater-making was not one I was going to miss.

We rehearsed at the Leinster Sports Complex just off the Bowling Green. Funny place for a theater rehearsal, right? But the space was nice with lots of natural light. Left: Read-thru, day one. Right: A quick glimpse of some local Dubliners playing on the bowling green!

Before entering any new chapter, I try to note my expectations and emotions. Well, I was certainly anxious to get started, somewhere between jittery enthusiasm and complete bundle of nerves. My expectations, however, were clear: I expected to see a full rehearsal process and to learn from some of Ireland’s greatest theatrical talent. Both of these predictions proved to be accurate, but the most valuable skills I took away were those I could never have imagined at the outset.

These are some “Dublin Doors,” the first colorful part of Dublin that greeted me. All the homes in Dublin have quirky and fun colorful doors, which I loved because it added so much character. I even found some maize and blue ones.

The history of the production The Beauty Queen of Leenane is deep and unique, which added to the experience. The Beauty Queen of Leenane was originally produced in 1996, and this production marks the twentieth anniversary of the original. Additionally, Garry Hynes, the original director who, with the original production (Broadway transfer in 1998), was the first female to win a Tony Award for the best direction of a play, is directing the 2016-17 production. Furthermore, Marie Mullen, who won the Tony that same year for best actress in a leading role as the title role, is back. This time she’s to play the role of the mother, Mag. Much of the original design team is working on this year’s production as well. I was really looking forward to watching everyone reunite to re-examine this incredible play, twenty years later, with the fresh eyes of three new cast members as well.

Here, Greg Clarke (sound) and James F. Ingalls (lights) watch a run of the show. Marie Mullen (MAG) stands in her rehearsal dressing gown. All three were part of the original production.  Ingalls is also American, so it was nice to chat with a fellow yank!

The four actors involved in the production are all brilliant artists. Their transformation from day one’s table read to the final run in the rehearsal space was inspiring. They created dynamic characters—deeply layered—and they filled each rehearsal with passion, investment, and care. Additionally, their wonderfully accomplished director Garry Hynes proved to be the artistic guide actors crave. The opportunity to simply observe a rehearsal process was invaluable.

Director Garry Hynes works with Marie and Aisling. These photos show Bryan Burroughs, who was brought in for movement work, as he helps Marie stage the big reveal. I won’t tell you what happens!

The company was very generous in allowing me to see every single part of the rehearsal process. I was able to watch the actors as they navigated the dark truths of humanity within the play, while balancing these dark truths with moments of complete humor. During certain scenes, the team was in full agreement. More interestingly though were the times when the team disagreed.

These moments taught me most because these disagreements revealed many finer character and play details. Often actors shared their perspective on a given beat, and what followed was a much broader discussion about the truths of the world of the play. Through observing and participating in these conversations, I learned to more intensely analyze scripts and characters, but I also learned how to behave in a professional rehearsal room.

Here I am with three out of the four members of the cast! Marty Rea had to leave before we took the photo. I had so much fun getting to know these marvelous actors.

Watching these artists explore a textual masterpiece for eight hours a day, five days a week, for four weeks, would have absolutely been enough. I, however, also had Dublin.

Maneuvering though Dublin proved to be an exciting adjustment. One mundane but noteworthy variation from my American life was having to navigate the hot water situation. In my apartment building, there was a box that regulated hot water, and I had to turn it on two hours before I wanted hot water (to allow it to be heated). I will say this: I will never take immediate/automatic hot water for granted again. Ever.

This is the magical box that controls the hot water. I learned to befriend it very quickly.

Another great challenge was understanding what people were saying. There is no one “Irish accent,” as the country is just as verbally diverse as America. Picture travelling from rural Texas, to Brooklyn, to Minnesota, to Southern California, to Louisiana; of course, none of these residents speak with the same “American accent.” My first week was spent nodding and smiling as I pretended to understand. (As an actor, I found the challenge exciting!)

My first rainy Saturday in Dublin was the first time I realized that I was really alone. I woke up without rehearsal to go to, no friends to walk around with, and not a plan for my day. At first, this was very hard for me. I stared out the window at the gray wet street, and realized: either I could sit in my apartment alone wishing I had friends to explore with, or I could take advantage of being in a foreign country and really immerse myself. That day I took myself to my first play in Dublin, Pygmalion, and started a pattern of choosing new adventures, and of becoming comfortable with being on my own.

This is the set for Pygmalion, the first play I saw in Dublin!

I explored Dublin as well as the surrounding Irish countryside, immersing in the rich Irish culture to my fullest ability. I visited and hiked around a monastery called Glendalough, pronounced [glen-duh-lock], strolled around the grounds of Kilkenny Castle, climbed the cliffs in a seaside village named Howth, saw some fantastic theater, wonderful museums, and of course, toured the Guinness Storehouse. Did you know the Guinness Storehouse is THE most visited tourist site in all of Europe? It sees more visitors than the Coliseum in Rome, Buckingham Palace in London, and even the Louvre in Paris.

These are pictures I took while hiking around Glendalough and Kilkenny Castle. The countryside really is that green. Absolutely beautiful, and peaceful, filled with lots of families picnicking, and others camping for the weekend.

As my time progressed, I found being alone more and more difficult, but this loneliness did make me value my time in the rehearsal room. It certainly increased my appreciation for the opportunity and contributed to my development as an artist and human being.

Left: This is the Long Hall in the Old Library at Trinity College. It reminded me of our Law Library at Michigan. It was beyond impressive. This picture barely captures the height of the ceilings and the millions of old, old books housed here.

Right: This is the seaside village called Howth, though technically it is still considered part of Dublin. Here I got to walk along the seaside cliffs for a few hours, smell the ocean, and have some delicious fish! A much needed city escape.

I do think that learning to be alone is as important as the artistic knowledge I gained from my time in Dublin. At school, particularly in the theater department, people with large personalities abound. We have class together, we rehearse together, and we live with one another. As with my artistic experience, I have already transferred this knowledge into my daily life.

Here I am interviewing Aisling O’Sullivan, one of Dublin’s greatest talents! Her acting is absolutely brilliant and I feel so fortunate to have watched her work for a month. Additionally, I so appreciate the conversations I had with her, which were filled with practical advice for my future career.

See Druid Theatre Company in Ann Arbor on March 9-11, 2017. 

Editor’s note: This post is part of a series of reflections from students who are part of UMS’s 21st Century Student Internship program. As parts of this paid internship program, students spend several weeks with a company that’s part of UMS’s seasons. U-M Theater student Shenell McCrary was with Ping Chong + Company. The company brings Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity to Ann Arbor on February 18, 2016.

Left: Shenell McCrary at Snug Harbor steps. Right: SoHo. All photos by Shenell McRary.

I was standing on the steps of the University of Michigan’s Hatcher Undergraduate Library with a group of actors from my theater program when I received the call. Jim Leija, the Director of Education & Community Engagement at UMS had called to tell me that I had received the highly sought after 21^st Century Internship. I almost dropped my phone when I heard the news. Since I had applied the year before and didn’t get it, I was really hoping this year was my breakthrough. And it was. Finally.

Jim told me that I would be assigned to New York City with a theater company called Ping Chong + Company. Right away, I started to research them, going through websites, news articles, reviews, and YouTube videos. And right off the bat, I found their work to be very interesting, especially the Undesirable Elements series. And of course, I was also excited about the opportunity to travel to New York City. I had been to the city a few times, but never own my own or for as long as I would be during the internship. I honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend my summer.

Left: Harlem Brownstones. Right: Rooftop view.

As my plane descended, I began to feel those butterflies in my stomach. Would I like it here? Will I be ok? Will I get lost? Will I be alone? My shuttle took me from LaGuardia Airport to my new home in Harlem. I was staying in a spacious apartment that my theater professors allowed me to sublet. One of the many great things about Harlem for me was the liveliness of the neighborhoods. There is always something to do, and there is such a strong sense of community. What I loved most about the neighborhood is the lovely blend of culture and people of all ages. One of my favorite things to do was to sit on the stoop or at my window and watch the kids play. They opened up the fire hydrant on especially hot days, and let the water spray out into the street, splashing and playing to cool off.

One of the most challenging things for me was definitely learning my way around the city. I like to think of myself as someone with a pretty strong sense of direction. However, New York completely threw off my internal compass. Even looking at the map of the subways initially nauseated me. I had never been on a subway train without someone who absolutely knew what they were doing, so the thought of having to navigate the city on my own terrified me. I often imagined myself on the wrong train, ending up lost in the middle Brooklyn (which actually happened once). After many missed trains and rookie mistakes, I got the hang of it. With every week I knew more and more, and what initially terrified me became easy and familiar. Sometimes, I even offered transit advice to confused tourists.

Left: Night skyline. Right: Sunny day at the High Line.

Ping Chong + Company’s offices are in East Village in Manhattan. Because the company was not working on performances during the summer, the bulk of my work was assisting in the office with day-to-day tasks in preparation for the end of the fiscal year, as well as helping to prepare and plan for upcoming tours and institutes. I also had the opportunity to prepare for one of Ping Chong + Company’s performances-in-progress, Where The Sea Break It’s Back.  What I enjoyed most about my experience in the office is the opportunity to gain insight into exactly how a professional theater company runs. Because I aspire to some day become the artistic director of my own company, seeing just how much work goes into keeping things running was especially helpful.

Left: Ping Chong + Company office building. Right: Central Park.

Not all of my time was spent in the office, though. I took full advantage of my free time, exploring the massive city. Many of my adventures included sightseeing, going to Coney Island and Brighton Beach, visiting The Highline, popping into free art galleries around Manhattan, watching movies in the park, kayaking down the Hudson, taking yoga and spinning classes, and, of course, seeing shows.

Left: Coney Island sunset. Right: At the beach.

The Training Institute was probably one of my favorite weeks in New York. I was so excited to actually be on my feet and learning how the Company does what it does so well: creates interview-based theater works. I had so many questions about the process and about interviewing in general.

What I loved about this experience was working alongside artists of all ages from all over the world. Before the intensive, we filled out a questionnaire, answering questions about our history, environment, and culture. We used those packets as well as in-person interviews to form pieces of theater. The intensive culminated in an unforgettable and deeply moving showcase of our work. In documentary theater, the interviewee shares a part of his or her story, which is funneled into a script. The process takes trust and communication. It really opened my eyes to how everyone has a history and many stories. To be able to have someone share these stories, and to then be able to turn these words into something artful, is a great honor.

Left: Institute group, with Shenell in center. Right: Ping Chong.

The trip back to LaGuardia airport was bittersweet. I was sad to say goodbye to New York, but I couldn’t wait to go back to Ann Arbor and share and apply the cool things I learned. My time in New York was some of the most unforgettable in my life so far. The trip has taught me so much about myself, my craft, and the industry I plan to work in. I was so lucky to have the Ping Chong + Company family to take me under their wings for my six week stay. In such an enormous, dizzy city, I felt at home. I cannot thank UMS and Ping Chong and Company enough for the opportunity of a lifetime.

See Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity in Ann Arbor on February 18, 2016.

Editor’s Note: University of Michigan student Zoey Bond spent several weeks with Druid Theatre Company as part of the UMS 21st Century Artist Internship program. The Company returns to Ann Arbor with a new production of Martin McDonagh’s dark comedy The Beauty Queen of Leenane on March 9-11, 2017. The interview below is with Aisling O’Sullivan, the Irish actress who plays the beauty queen of Leenane.

Photo: The Beauty Queen of Leenane’s Aisling O’Sullivan (left) and Marie Mullen (right). Photo by Matthew Thompson.

Zoey Bond: You’ve worked on playwright Martin McDonagh’s text before, what draws you to his writing?

Aisling O’Sullivan: It’s his characters, the dilemmas, and the wit, I suppose. It’s more than just the writing. It’s the delight I get from performing in the plays, which is so much fun to do and challenging. They are deep. They’ve got all of the colors.

ZB: As you know, this new production casts Marie Mullen in the role of the scheming mother. She won a Tony Award for the role of the daughter in the 1996 Broadway production. Last week you started wearing Marie’s boots in rehearsal, so you were quite literally stepping into her shoes. What has this part of the process been like? 

AO: I found it very difficult. In the past, if I’ve seen a performance, and then I have to do my performance, I think I can do better. I don’t feel I can better than Marie. I saw her originally, and she is just extraordinary and really painfully beautiful. It would have been one of Marie’s defining performances. I’ve known her for a long time, so stepping into her shoes, I’m trying to embrace it and go, “Okay, so I’m privileged to be asked by the same director who thinks there is something I can do that might equal Marie. I’ll give it a shot.” I’m going to do something totally different, or I’ll just do what she did. I’m just trying to embrace the memory of her, and the joy that I got from it. So stepping into her shoes helps me symbolically with all of that. And her shoes are nice.

ZB: So then, the follow-up question is: After seeing the original production, has it been hard for you to create your own version?

AO: Yes. It’s difficult because of the way Martin’s work has to be rehearsed. You don’t get to do the scene over and over from start to finish without stopping. I have no idea who is developing in me until we start running the show. And then I’ll start getting the sense of who this person is. At the moment, it’s very much stop, start, stop, start, which is not conducive for me anyway. I tend to work through moods and energy shifts. I’m not getting the sense of that, which is not a problem. I’m very curious as to who’s going to appear.

ZB: What excites you about audiences seeing this today, 20 years later? What continues to be relevant?

A: Well, I think I love the universality of his darkness in relationships. I love that he puts it out there. It’s impossible not to recognize yourself in these desperate, almost psychopathic relationships.

For me, the play would be about owning your own power, or that if anyone ever encroaches on that space, you have to fight very hard to protect it. You’re in big trouble if anyone masters you — and I’m speaking here about the mother-daughter relationship. You’re in big trouble because you have no power. You’ve lost your own. And dark things can happen from that kind of powerlessness.

ZB: How do you think American audiences will respond to seeing this Irish play?

AO: I don’t know. I performed in front of an audience in America for the first time last year. And it was a very strange and scary experience for me because I’have spent 20 years performing to mostly English and Irish audiences. I can read them. If you get to know a species of audience, you can read them and you know how to play them. But with the American audiences, I had no idea of your taste and your comedy. It was a very interesting experience for me because it was unique. It was a totally different culture. I’m very interested in learning more about that. About how you respond, what’s your funny bone? What things move you?

ZB: In the play, do you have a particular scene, or a moment, or a line that you feel resonates the most with you? 

AO: Not yet, but I love the humility, and honesty, and gentleness in a lot of these characters. They drop in these little, gentle sentences, and I think they are gorgeous moments for me to hear, as a performer in it, anyway. That it isn’t just razor-sharp.

ZB: How do you find the love in such a dark play? Do you think it is there?

AO: Definitely. It’s a funny thing that deep love can exist with masses of irritation. I irritate people too, I know that. As you get older, it’s less of a big deal. I’d be horrified to think I was capable of irritating anyone or boring anyone when I was younger, but now I’ve accepted that about myself. I think it’s all over the place.

ZB: Do you have a certain routine that you use to prepare for every role, or does it differ for each production?

AO: I don’t, but I’ll tell you what happened. I have been very instinctive until fairly recently, in that I would come completely open and unprepared to the first day of rehearsal. That was the way I worked and great things could come because I hadn’t made any decisions. Well, I worked on my first Shakespeare with this company last year. I was playing a fairly major part, and I’d never spoken a word of Shakespeare in my life.

I turned up one day, one big Bambi in the forest and the tiger Shakespeare stepped out of the trees. I was pretty much on stage for five hours speaking pure poetry and not understanding it. That was a baptism of fire, and since then, I try to come as prepared as I can be, in terms of learning the lines. I don’t have them off, but I know where they’re going, and then I come into the rehearsal space having done a bit of work. I think that makes me feel much more like an artist.

People who have gone to drama school are horrified listening to me going, “What? No preparation at all?” [Laughs]

ZB: So, there is a fine line between coming prepared and knowing enough, but not knowing too much, so that you can still discover. 

AO: Yes. I think if you come in with some ideas, your mind has worked enough on it that you can change course. But if you come in with no ideas, you’re just going to accept the ideas that come to you. I think the crucial bit for me is to love the character. Even if you’re playing a psycho, to find something that you love.

ZB: That’s a good lead into my next question. With which parts of Maureen do you feel you identify?

AO: I identify with the weakness in her, the self-doubt, the way she tries to protect herself in her relationships. I see so much of me, and so much humanity, in her. That’s what is so brilliant about the play. Martin McDonagh was so young when he wrote it, and he just hit the seam of something about human beings that doesn’t often get shown.

Druid Theatre Company returns to Ann Arbor with a new production of Martin McDonagh’s dark comedy The Beauty Queen of Leenane on March 9-11, 2017. 

Editor’s note: This post is part of a series of reflections from students who are part of UMS’s 21st Century Student Internship program. As parts of the paid internship program, students spend several weeks with a company that’s part of UMS’s seasons. U-M Dance student Claire Crause was with Mark Morris Dance Group. The company performs in Ann Arbor October 13-15, 2016.

Left: NYC skyline from across the reservoir in Central Park. Taken during one of my post-work runs. Right: View from one of my walks across the Brooklyn Bridge. The Statue of Liberty can be seen in the distance.

This summer was one of such profound gratitude. I never pictured myself in Brooklyn interning for Mark Morris Dance Group (MMDG). Yet there I was, and it was better than a dream. Within nine short weeks my heart had virtually exploded with pure joy and fulfillment. I learned so much and experienced incredible opportunities. I found myself in the right place and time for miraculous things to occur. I know my words will not do justice to my summer, but if there is anything I learned in New York it’s that doing anything with full confidence is never a fruitless endeavor. So here I go.

Left: The Mark Morris Dance Center! My daily destination from Harlem to Brooklyn. Right: MMDG dancers perform a work by Mark Morris for students during the Summer Intensive.

I threw myself headfirst into MMDG. My first two weeks I did nothing but dance from 9 am – 5 pm in the MMDG Summer Intensive. I took class with and from company members, learned MMDG repertory, and had the occasional class or coaching from choreographer Mark Morris himself.  The training I received in the intensive was excellent, and I especially loved learning excerpts of Mark Morris’s choreography. I was grateful to physically experience the work before delving into the administrative side of the company.  As the majority of my time with MMDG was spent interning in the office, I was excited for my first interactions with the company to be in the dance studio, the place where I feel most at home. Connecting with the MMDG dancers and getting to know them as people also made my office work more relevant. I now had faces and personalities to pair with the names I would eventually enter into documents.

Left: Pictured here with Derek Crescenti, an alumni from the University of Michigan Dance Department. Derek and I met for the first time during the Summer Intensive. Right: View of my office on the third floor of the Mark Morris Dance Center. My desk is behind the middle dividing-wall.

After two blissful weeks of dance training I was honestly bracing myself for office work to be a slight disappointment. I’m glad to say that I was very wrong. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed working with the management team. I would always rather be dancing, but the work I did at my desk was fulfilling in its own way. I worked under Nancy Umanoff, the company executive director, Jen Rossi, the company manager, and Huong Hoang, the general manager. Julia Weber, the management assistant, was my desk buddy and accomplice. We became quick friends and worked side-by-side on similar projects.

Left: Snapshot of my desk while I researched Layla and Majnun. Right: View of the studio where I took class from Mark Morris.

I worked primarily on tasks relevant to MMDG’s upcoming tour of Layla and Majnun, a new work Mark Morris has choreographed to music by the Silk Road Ensemble. (The performance will be in Ann Arbor October 13-15, 2016.) I organized information relating to ancillary activities for each city on the tour, contacted co-commissioners about these activities, organized flight information, conducted interviews with dancers and a violinist, and created a Brooklyn “welcome” directory for the Silk Road Ensemble, which they will use during their rehearsals with MMDG at the Mark Morris Dance Center. (And, yes, I also made the daily trips to Starbucks and neighboring restaurants to pick up coffee and lunch for Mark Morris.) I’m looking forward to seeing my work come into fruition when MMDG and the Silk Road Ensemble come to Ann Arbor.

The company took a field trip to the National Museum of Dance in Saratoga Springs, where Mark Morris was recently inducted into the Dance Hall of Fame. The museum included an exhibition on Mark Morris and his life’s achievements.

My experience suddenly shifted remarkably during my last three weeks. With Mark Morris’s permission I began taking the morning ballet class he teaches for his dancers. Most of my workdays now began at the ballet barre, surrounded by MMDG dancers, breathing in Mark Morris’s insightful words. I was intimidated at first. I was dancing in a room full of beautiful professional dancers and receiving corrections from Mark Morris. The same Mark Morris I had learned about in my dance history and dance composition classes. Was this even real life? I quickly discovered that yes, it was real, and that it was also quite amazing. The dancers were so generous and kind and treated me as an equal. They grew to joke with me and playfully tease me along with Mark Morris. I felt my dancing grow as I became inspired by the talent of everyone around me. After class I would thank Mark, take his lunch order, and proceed back to the office with a mind full of sandwich toppings and fresh perspectives on ballet.

Left: Lincoln Center at night after the performance of American Ballet Theater’s Sleeping Beauty. Aside from seeing performances I occasionally went to Lincoln Square for some peaceful relaxation time. Right: Daily breakfast at Music and Mentoring House, prepared by Lauren Flanigan. We all ate breakfast together in the mornings before parting for our busy days.

By the end of July I had formed close friendships with the office staff and the dancers. I had also made a home in Harlem at Music and Mentoring House, the house where I stayed with opera singer Lauren Flanigan. Lauren was a lovely host, mentor, and friend. Those of us young artists staying with Lauren this summer became fast friends, and the welcoming atmosphere inside the house was a true gift. Returning back to my Michigan home at the end of the summer was bittersweet.

Pictured in front of Music and Mentoring House on my final day in the city.

At school it is easy to become narrow-minded and trapped within the confines of a schedule flooded with exams and rehearsals. Sometimes, it can be hard to remember why I love art. In New York, all of that melted away and I was able to live.

As much as I learned at the desk, I also found ways to become nourished as an artist. I attended performances each week (dance companies, operas, Broadway musicals – although I’m still resenting never having won the Hamilton lottery), went to a variety of dance classes and auditions, rented studio space and improvised alone, visited museum galleries, had many inspiring conversations with Lauren Flanigan, and listened to what the urban rhythms of the New York streets had to offer me each moment.

I carried around a small notebook everywhere I went and constantly scribbled down choreography inspiration for my upcoming senior concert. The world of performing arts moved a little more into focus everyday. It was insane; I walked down the streets smiling like a fool because I was just so happy to be alive.  I have no more words other than thank you. Thank you UMS, thank you Mark Morris Dance Group. From my smiling heart to you, thank you so much.

See Mark Morris Dance Group in Ann Arbor on October 13-15, 2016.

On February 18, Ping Chong+Company brings the interview-based theater work Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity to Ann Arbor.

This interview-based theater production, part of Chong’s 25-year series entitled Undesirable Elements, explores the diverse experiences of young Muslim New Yorkers who came of age in post-9/11 New York City at a time of increasing Islamophobia. Participants come from a range of cultural and ethnic backgrounds and include young men and women who reflect a range of Muslim identities: those who converted to Islam, those who were raised Muslim but have since left the faith, those who identify as “secular” or “culturally” Muslim, and those who are observant on a daily basis. Beyond Sacred illuminates the daily lives of Muslim Americans in an effort to work toward greater communication and understanding between Muslim and non-Muslim communities.

In this series of posts and interviews curated by Annick Odom, we explore Muslim identity on U-M campus.

In this essay, Abraham Ahmed Mustafa Achachi Matsui reflects on his identity.

My name is Abraham Ahmed Mustafa Achachi Matsui. It’s quite a mouthful. The Ahmed part of my middle name is the part my mom wanted to name me. My mom is from Lebanon and was born a Muslim. It’s traditional to give the name of her father to her son. My father is Japanese, so Achachi is my dad’s first name. And then my parents decided to give me a universal name used across the world — Abraham.

I was raised Muslim, and attended Sunday school, but my dad pushed me to attend Buddhist festivals and services. In a lot of ways I think my personality and reality are more aligned with being Japanese. I participated in Judo club in undergrad, and I’m a wrestler. I have what I consider a Japanese mindset; I take care of myself, remember to be proud but courteous, do the best in everything I can, and work to be logical.

Still, I’m kind of darker-skinned and look like almost any kind of race. Wherever I go in the country, I kind of get pre-set in people’s mind as whatever underclass that is. It’s a harsh word, but it is the reality of things. People see a race and are so conscious in thinking, “That’s the other.” In California, they think I’m Mexican. They approach me and say “¿Qué pasa?” In Detroit and Michigan, I’m often seen as African American. In other areas of the country, I know I’ve been identified as Samoan. I like to joke that I’m the most American you can get. I have grown up feeling Japanese, but people think I’m Mexican. I put down I’m half Caucasian on forms because that’s what Middle Easterners do. I should be the poster child for what an American actually is!

I did an MFA at UC Davis California, and while I was there I joined the Muslim Student Association. I’ve always been politically driven, so I ran for Davis City Council. This was the first time I was publicly attacked based on being a Muslim, because if you look at me, I don’t look like a “stereotypical” Muslim. People said that MSA was a terrorist group, and an article was published saying I had terrorist ties.

You hear people saying how that affects you. I didn’t want to do anything Muslim-related for a year or two afterwards. I didn’t go to a mosque. It was in the wake of all these terrorist activities. I kind of lost it, you know. It wasn’t until I got to law school when I met a couple of my friends who were pretty religious. I hung out because they were really cool people, not because they were Muslim. They revitalized the faith in me. I came into law school with no thought of being in the Muslim Law Student Association. In the end I actually became president!

This pushed me to start to think of the Muslim student experience as a whole. One of the largest challenges we were faced with at U-M was the “American Sniper” debate. Despite many complaints from Muslim students and student organizations on campus, it was still shown. When I first heard it was being shown, honestly, I thought, “You know what, it’s college. We saw way worse things in undergrad. There needs to be things that make people uncomfortable. A college campus should have free, open dialogue.” But then I talked to my members, and found that it made several of my members feel physically unsafe and unsafe in their opinions to glorify this sniper and have a public institution give him credence. After hearing their opinion, I agreed. It made us feel like we were alone, like we were alienated, like we were “the other,” and like we were outsiders.

The biggest thing I’ve learned is to tell my story so people see what it’s like. That’s the biggest step to understanding that Muslims aren’t weird, crazy people and to gaining acceptance. We’re your neighbors and friends. We’re logical people. Right now I’ve hit a nice medium about how I feel to be Muslim. I sometimes feel bitter but I also love my faith.

If you’re interested in joining the Muslim Student Association or attending some of their events, you can contact them on the MSA Maize Page or check out the MSA Facebook page.

See Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity in Ann Arbor on February 18, 2017.

On February 18, Ping Chong+Company brings the interview-based theater work Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity to Ann Arbor.

This interview-based theater production, part of Chong’s 25-year series entitled Undesirable Elements, explores the diverse experiences of young Muslim New Yorkers who came of age in post-9/11 New York City at a time of increasing Islamophobia. Participants come from a range of cultural and ethnic backgrounds and include young men and women who reflect a range of Muslim identities: those who converted to Islam, those who were raised Muslim but have since left the faith, those who identify as “secular” or “culturally” Muslim, and those who are observant on a daily basis. Beyond Sacred illuminates the daily lives of Muslim Americans in an effort to work toward greater communication and understanding between Muslim and non-Muslim communities.

In this series of posts and interviews curated by Annick Odom, we explore Muslim identity on U-M campus.

In this essay, Ayah Issa reflects on her identity.

You were once owned by another, but you learned that their ownership was unfair and broke free.

In 1776, you became your own ruler and slowly you grew from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Since then, you’ve owned, killed, birthed, and raised a nation. Since then, you’ve birthed and raised me. In 1997, a part of you opened to me and gave me a home. Deep in your mitten, at the southeast side of your palm, I grew with your love.

But your love is conditional.

Home was a red brick house with an old wooden porch that faced a fountain. With its chipped paint and dirty rain water, the fountain was not a place we were allowed to play, but that never stopped our dizzying runs along the tilted, circular inside of the fountain. My grandfather, Hajj, built this house for his sons and daughters to live with their families all together. In the back, your raised ground serves as a picnic spot in the summer and a sledding course in the winter. Eventually, you gave us more of yourself and Baba and his brothers built us a playground with four swings, two monkeybars, one slide, one tire swing, and a playhouse.

Blissful with your love, home remained my place with you. I broke my arm against your gravel jumping off a porch table. I learned to play basketball with the hoop welded to your cement sidewalk. I got stung by a bee that lived under your porch stairs and made friends with a stray cat that strolled your streets looking for food in trash cans or stealing it away from unaware children. Every year, I celebrated my birthday with you on June 17th and celebrated your birthday with everyone on July 4th.

Your navy sky is painted with colors. Artificial stars shine over natural stars, red and blue streaks compete for space, and smoke blurs the dim sight of the crescent moon. Yard chairs scrape your skin and spilled drinks leak between your cracks. It’s your birthday, oh how you’ve grown, 228 years and counting. I’m sitting with my older sister watching colors in the sky and listening to each boom boom boom as you’re filled with more smoke and colors.

Neighbors join us and cars park along your streets to admire your colorful present. They know your history and hope for your future. You know that your birthday brings people together not because of the casualties of independence, but because the pretty colors and cheery parade. People come together when happy because they do not have to worry about you or others.

Today I would like to visit your park along the river… Mama is overseas visiting her Mama, and Baba is at work checking people’s eyes. That leaves me and my siblings at my uncle’s house. My cousins sit outside and talk amongst themselves like usual. I’m one of the youngest there and so no one includes me. I want to go to the park, but no one agrees. “We don’t go out today,” my cousin’s wife says.

“Why not?” At nine years old, I’m annoyed with her for ruining my day.

“It’s not a safe day to go out.” she looks at me as if that was all she needed to say for me to stop asking.

“Why?” I ask as any elementary kid would… why.

“Today is no good.” And that’s all she says.

Participants on stage during Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity. Photo by Adam Nadel.

Today my cousin’s wife fears you. She fears you because of the hijab she’s chosen to wear for her faith. She fears you, and I do not know why. Today is any day for me, but not for you.

Five years before that day on September 11, 2001, terrorists hijacked four of your planes. They pierced through your skin four times… 767, 767, 757, 757. Two planes crashing into the twin towers, the third into the pentagon, and the fourth taken back by passengers and staff and into a field of grass. No passengers or staff survived the four plane crashes. I did not know this. September 11th was not a date that stuck out to me. At four years old, I did not remember that day in preschool, and I still do not know when someone finally told me why September 11th was a special day of mourning and love for you. I learned something new that day. I learned my status did not meet the conditions of your love. I learned you love me, but not always.

As I grow with you, I begin to memorize your features. Even with just a glimpse to a part of you, I see your entirety. Every winter, your winter wonderland blocks cars, turns the white snow grey and sloshy, and make the cold almost unbearable, but still snowmen are built, sleds go down hills, and angels are imprinted into you. And every summer, your sunny days grow humid, your sun turns skin red, and the heat is just as unbearable as the cold, but still sandcastles are built, floats go down waterslides, and bare feet run across you.

As I grew, I felt as you had felt. Unfortunately, you feel the pain more than you feel the pleasure. When you are happy, you do not seek the source of your happiness; instead, you remain unaware in your joy. When you are hurt, you seek the source of your pain… Someone must be blamed for hurting you so severely. Someone.

                                                    September 11, 2001

                             Iraqi War

Paris

Brussels                                                             Boston

                              Afghanistan

                            ISIS

                              Gaza

Al Qaeda

                                                                     San Bernardino

… Conditional?

I grew up not knowing my decision in fifth grade to wear the hijab would push you away. I grew up not knowing Falasteen was not your friend. I grew up not knowing that terrorist was synonymous to Muslim. I guess you teach me a little each day, and yet I still thought about how you’ve raised me to be exceptional. How you love me because I am yours. I will be grown one day and with that I hope to show you love is not conditional.

So as I sit here on your front porch, facing the fountain with the chipped away paint, and I think, I know you. The fountain blurs and the focus is on the water cascading down onto the chipped surface. Each water drop learns the fountain’s surface as it slides down the curved interior and into a pool of millions of water drops. Overwhelmed with drops, the fountain feels many and not one. To know many, the fountain loses the site of one drop. To know one, the drop gains the site of one fountain. This is us… I know one and you know many. Eventually, the water drops will flow through the system and out through the peak of the fountain, only to cascade again onto its surface. Each time, the fountain will get only glimpse of the water drops, while the water drops experience the same complete knowing of the one fountain with the chipped away paint.

This is an abridged version of Ayah’s original piece. Read the full story.

See Beyond Sacred: Voices of Muslim Identity in Ann Arbor on February 18, 2017.