Snapshots in Song: LIU Brooklyn’s 35mm: A Musical Exhibition review

35mm, A Musical Exhibition by Ryan Scott Oliver

BY: ISABELA RANGEL / MANAGING EDITOR

In LIU Brooklyn’s Kumble Theater, the RocNation Musical Theater Workshop debuted 35mm: A Musical Exhibition in a two-night run full of collaboration and creativity. 

Overseen by faculty in artistic and musical direction, and run by a student-led team in stage management and choreography, the production showcased both photography and performance art, highlighting talent among the RocNation School.

Unlike a traditional musical, 35mm operates as a song cycle, narrating a series of photographs pieced together by music rather than an overarching narrative. Originally created by Ryan Scott Oliver, his photos pair with songs from multiple genres, ranging from folk to pop rock. 

This results in less of a cohesive plot and more of a showcase reliant on convincing movement and storytelling to fully reach audiences, allowing for each interpretation to be as technical or as abstract as the company sees fit. 

This concept was taken on by a blend of faculty and student leadership, with students in key creative roles essential to a show as unconventional as this one. Among them were photography organizer and stage managers Calista Garcia and Madison Elizondo, as well as music directors Milan Chandna and Owen Reynolds, and choreographer Miguel Amell, a team of creatives whose work was well reflected onstage. 

Rather than using the photographs licensed with the show, the cast chose to recreate them almost in their entirety, inserting themselves into the visual stills of the story. It was an ambitious choice, and, at its core, did its job in immersing the actors into the plot surrounding each photo. 

At other times, though, the recreated stills, some done unmistakably outside the dorm rooms and others being Getty stock photos entirely, momentarily took audiences out of the scene while they tried to correlate each photo to the accompanying song. Nevertheless, the personalization of the photographs is an undoubtedly challenging feat, and it added a new layer of unpredictability to an intricate show. 

Where the production earns its highest compliments was in its live accompaniment. The band served as the one constant thread, the only thing weaving each jarringly different scene together to make a tapestry of a show. Playing nearly nonstop for 90 minutes, each musician played both energetically and consistently, giving each scene its respective calm or momentum. 

Vocally, the ensemble delivered several strong moments. In watching the second night’s performance (the “B” cast, performed on May 2), actors Noah Griffin and Arthur Sanchez-Leroux stood out with confident vocals and a sturdy emotional presence, serving mainly as narrators that interlaced their lines with the photographs behind them.

 The opening number, “Crazytown,” is a commendable display of this, with lead vocalists holding center stage while ensemble members snaked through the auditorium with accompanying harmonies. It was a feat that further highlighted choreographer Amell’s creative direction, particularly in a few sharp dance breaks riddled throughout the first song. 

“The Ballad of Sara Berry,” later in the show, conversely highlights well-thought-out vocal direction from Reynolds and Chandna, showcasing strong ensemble harmonies that echoed the haunting story of a manic high school prom queen. 

With as much creative effort and risk-taking as this company had to offer, the technical crew’s delivery of the piece contributes nearly as much to the overall question any good theatrical production asks itself: Is the audience getting this? 

In a show where the photograph is directly explained through a song’s lyrics, being heard matters. At many points during the show, the microphone balance made it difficult to fully catch each word, with instruments and ensemble members overpowering narrators and soloists.

 Projection and enunciation also play a vital role here, with lead vocalists occasionally getting lost in ensemble harmonies. The final result wasn’t disruptive as much as it was simply slightly blurring– almost like a photograph out of focus, if we’re playing into it. 

The minimal set design made sense for a production built on a shifting cast of images and stories, though additional lighting transitions between songs might’ve helped audiences with a better visual cue of emotional changes within scenes. 

Even so, the aspect that stays with me most about LIU’s 35mm was their willingness to experiment. There’s simply nothing more intriguing than to see an already abstract piece bent to the will of a hardworking cast of young creatives and actors. 

Ultimately, 35mm: A Musical Exhibition at LIU Brooklyn was less about delivering a seamless narrative and more about capturing direct snapshots of artistry and human experience—just as any photographer should do.