The word "cosplay" is a portmanteau of “costume play,” and the activity's participants—cosplayers—wear costumes and fashion accessories to represent specific characters.

For playwright Shavonne Coleman, cosplay is a way to open the doors of creativity to children and put them on the road to being superheroes.

Eastern Michigan University Theatre is presenting the world premiere production of Coleman’s Cause Play on April 3-6, with school matinee performances on April 7-8.

Last year a staged reading of Cause Play was presented in May at EMU in collaboration with Ann Arbor Spinning Dot Theatre as part of the TYA BIPOC Superhero Project. That collaboration continues with the premiere of the fully acted production.

Coleman is an alumna of EMU and an associate professor of theater at the University of Michigan's Department of Music, Theatre, and Dance.

Cause Play centers on three middle school students, Zuvi, Zipper and Aaron, who meet at an after-school cosplay club at the Southwest Academy Magnet Middle School in Detroit. They discover their talents in creating costumes and adopting identities with the goal of attending a Comic Con—as well as developing their secret powers along the way. Coleman said there were changes made following the staged reading in response to the audiences who wanted the students to go to the Comic Con.

Sasha Gusikhin founded NeuroArts Productions in response to a tragedy.

Luke Balstad was Gusikhin’s best friend, and a straight-A student at Harvard, but he also knew that he needed mental help assistance. Balstad was in therapy, was honest and open about his bipolar condition, and was attended to by a supportive network—but it still ended with him dying by suicide in 2022.

Balstad was being treated with medications—he tried at least 10—and therapy in the standardized modern way, but Gusikhin believes that let her friend slip through the cracks.

“No amount of checking in on Luke would have been able to save him," says Gusikhin, a University of Michigan senior double majoring in biopsychology, cognition, and neuroscience along with voice performance. "He had all of this care and yet there was all this impression with this one size fits all, this ‘let’s try this, and that, and that.' When we do that we are never attuned to: ‘What if this medication [causes a] toxic reaction to that person’s brain chemistry?’ It’s very dangerous, and it can cause very dangerous situations and even loss of life in this case.”

Gusikhin's NeuroArts Productions organizes multidisciplinary arts events to promote mental health education and reform.

Stories in author and University of Michigan professor Greg Schutz’s new short story collection, Joyriders, demonstrate “how fragile things are.” The characters “share the terror and joy of having learned a life was a thing that could change.”

The short stories in Joyriders track characters who are coping with the course that their lives have taken. The stories take place in both the Midwest, including Wisconsin and Michigan, and rural Appalachia, including North Carolina. They also reveal how the natural world may be its own character in this collection.

For the characters, life sometimes moves very quickly. The story, “To Wound, to Tear, to Pull to Pieces,” brings a young woman who hears about her high school acquaintance’s affair from the distance of an observer. However, she has had her own liaison with an older man, and subsequent heartbreak. She reflects:

In truth, though, it’s not the initial meeting I typically find myself trying to remember as much as the moments that soon followed—sweeping apperceptions of opportunity and risk, and then choices made so suddenly and completely they seemed like they could never be unchosen.

Clarity on what happened requires retrospectively parsing out the events of one’s life.

Not a lot of marriages reach the 50-year mark, and even fewer bands do.

But Ann Arbor-based folk group Mustard’s Retreat has always blazed its own path, weathering changes and challenges across an astonishing five decades.

To celebrate this milestone anniversary, the group has scheduled a handful of concerts— including one at The Ark on March 28—featuring all three original members, who started playing together at the Heidelberg’s Rathskeller in 1975.

David Tamulevich remembers auditioning there as a solo act when he’d only done some open mics previously and was working as a cook at the Brown Jug. Libby Glover, who would later become part of the original trio, was tending bar there when her boss asked what she thought of Tamulevich.

Fagin the Thief comes with content warnings for all sorts of sinister actions: abuse, death, swearing, and crime, including property theft. Yet readers may find themselves on the side of Jacob Fagin, the thief and Jew at the center of the crime ring, in this take on Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist.  

Author and U-M alum Allison Epstein, who lives in Chicago, will debut her third historical fiction novel at Literati Bookstore on Monday, March 3, at 6:30 pm. She returns to Literati after sharing her previous book, Let the Dead Bury the Dead, there as well.

The main character, Jacob Fagin, who prefers to go by his last name, takes to a life of crime like a fish to water and quickly learns the ropes. When he begins stealing, he is enamored with the opportunities that it provides:

Michigan has its unique qualities, and author John Counts infuses them into his short stories in Bear County, Michigan.

Counts takes a page from William Faulkner’s writing by centering each story within a fictional county. Set in northern Michigan, the characters hunt, work blue-collar jobs, get hooked on drugs, coexist with the wildlife, spend time on the water, and go to a nudist resort on the lake.

Counts, who is based in Whitmore Lake and a journalist and editor for MLive, will read from his new collection at Literati Bookstore on Friday, February 28, at 6:30 pm.

The short stories in Bear County, Michigan study how life deals the characters tough hands and how they react. In the story “The Hermit,” Karl loses the love of his life:

London Beck doesn’t hesitate to share what’s on their mind.

The singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and producer sings about reclaiming their power and undergoing a personal transformation on Vengeance Be Mine.

“When I started to put together this album, this was a way for me to say … I’ve gotten to a place where if [something] is really bothering me, I’m not going to keep that secret because I’m protecting somebody else,” said Beck about their latest album, which features infectious elements of R&B, soul, house, dance, and hip-hop.

“Someone very close to me said, ‘You’re going to worry yourself to death and then you’re going to pass away. And the things that are happening that are grieving you will continue to happen whether you’re here or not. So why are we going to hold that in and keep that in?’”

Beck followed that advice after recently experiencing an illness, a vocal cord injury, and the death of their grandmother. They channeled those struggles into 17 bold tracks about identity, growth, and heartbreak on Vengeance Be Mine. 

From the outside, Ann Arbor conjures the image of a pastoral place. It’s in the name, suggesting a shady nook of trees and hedges and daisies.

For those with ears tuned to the bellicose joys of distorted guitars, drum battalions, and the expression of unfettered frustration, however, Ann Arbor is where punk rock began. A pair of brothers named Asheton eschewed formal lessons for more physical forms of musicality back in 1967, resulting in a band called The Stooges and coloring the history of this otherwise-typical college town forever.

Countless malignant youths have tried to re-create that magic in our tiny burg ever since. Ann Arbor sired other noisy acts who put their own stamp on the form, some who broke beyond our borders and many who didn’t, but loud music remains our birthright. Since 1995, a band called Mazinga has been coming together to conjure heavy sounds out of the ether, with regular hiatuses taken to weather the vagaries of fate, negotiate the cruel realities of an underground music economy, and recharge creative batteries with outside projects.

The four townies in question include drummer Donny Blum, vocalist and lyricist Marc McFinn, guitarist Chris “Box” Taylor, and bassist and in-house graphic artist Big Tony Fero, aka Rubber Wolf. Beyond their duties in Mazinga, all of them have helped move and shake local heavy culture in other area bands. Taylor in particular doubles as mastermind of the annual punk/metal/noise pageant Fuzz Fest (the 10th installment will be this August) and served time in local acts Blue Snaggletooth, The Avatars, and Powertrane.

To whom or what do we owe ethical consideration? What circumstances call for morality?

University of Michigan professor Webb Keane argues that the answer to these questions is inextricably linked to our personal context in his new book, Animals, Robots, Gods: Adventures in the Moral Imagination.

People don’t live moral life in the abstract, they live it within specific circumstances and social relations, with certain capacities, constraints and long-term consequences. Put another way, you simply cannot live out the values of a Carmelite nun without a monastic system, or a Mongolian warrior without a calvary, and the respective social, economic and cultural systems that sustain them and acknowledge their worth.

We are who we are—and we make decisions—based on the situations in which we find ourselves, according to Keane.

Animals, Robots, Gods contains five chapters along with an introduction and coda. In the introduction, Keane starts by sharing that one of the premises of the book is the question, “What is a human being anyway?” and says that, “we will explore the range of ethical possibilities and challenges that take place at the edge of the human.” As he shows, the delineation is not always so clear.

Corruption collides with confusion and bureaucracy with buffoonery in the University of Michigan School of Music, Theatre & Dance’s production of The Government Inspector, adapted by Jeffrey Hatcher in 2009 from Nikolai Gogol’s 1836 play.

While the original play was set in Russia circa 1836, Malcolm Tulip's version could be anywhere, anytime that corruption is common—but certainly not here or now.

“We’ve taken things from different periods,” says Tulip, who directs U-M musical theater students in the production, which runs February 20-23 at the Arthur Miller Theatre.

The play is set in a small village where everyone in a position of power is corrupt. “Six gymnasiums have been built to get names on buildings they don’t need,” Tulip says.

When the crooked leadership learns an undercover inspector is coming to root out corruption, they panic. They bribe. They flatter. They flirt. The inspector moves into the mayor’s house and receives large “loans” from the local officials. “They fall over backward to make sure he’ll say good things about them,” says Tulip. “On another level, the mistreated peasants come across as the resistance.”