Seattle Weekly, March 18, 2015

MARCH 18-24, 2015 I VOLUME 40 I NUMBER 11

EDUCATING JOHN

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LENDER BENDERS

BY ELLIS E. CONKLIN | Making the case for loosening payday-loan restrictions. Plus: schooling johns, defeating a slumlord, and more.

10 OF BOATS AND MEN

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IN LAST WEEK’S COVER STORY (“HOPE & JERRAMY,” MARCH 11, 2015), WE MISSTATED HOPE SOLO’S HEIGHT. SHE IS 5’9”. ALSO, A WOMAN PICTURED WITH JERRAMY STEVENS AT KIRKLAND MUNICIPAL COURT WAS IDENTIFIED AS HIS SISTER. SHE WAS ACTUALLY A MEMBER OF THE REIGN FC STAFF. SEATTLE WEEKLY REGRETS THESE ERRORS.

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Kenmore, Wash. • San Diego

news&comment Shaking the Moneytree

A Quick Primer on Participatory Budgeting

A Seattle-based payday-loan lender is pulling out all the stops to revamp the state’s tough lending rules, but will it screw low-income borrowers?

BY SHAWN PORTER

L

BY ELLIS E. CONKLIN

S

Under a strict lending law, the number of payday loan outlets, like this one in downtown Seattle, has dwindled.

months, was passed by the Washington state senate by a 30-18 vote on March 10. A similar proposal was defeated in the Washington legislature two years ago, and, in the current legislative session, a companion proposal by Rep. Larry Springer (D-Kirkland)—the recipient last fall of $2,850 in Moneytree contributions—did not come to a vote on the House floor, nor was it even discussed in the House Democratic Caucus.

House Speaker Frank Chopp, in a statement e-mailed to the Weekly, indicated that the Senate bill faces a tough sell in the Democrat-controlled House. Chopp wrote: “The House payday lending bill, which was similar to the bill passed by the Senate, did not pass the House by cut-off because there are many members in our caucus who disagree with the proposed changes. I’m one of those members.”

According to Moneytree, borrowers prefer a longer period to pay off the loan, and the installment plan—unlike payday loans, which charge fees up front—would give borrowers an incentive to pay their loan early to avoid accruing interest fees. Sen. Liias, a state lawmaker since 2008, said it will cost a borrower only $18 in interest fees if

a loan is settled within two weeks.

Consumer-advocacy groups argue that the new loan program, if it becomes law, will drive more people into debt. As Sen. Cyrus Habib (D-Seattle) told the Weekly: “What they are trying to do is change borrowing behavior. Now, you see, if you have six months [to pay it off ], you might go out and buy that iPhone or whatever, rather than just paying it off quickly.”

Sandeep Kaushik, who works for Sound View Strategies and co-managed Ed Murray’s mayoral campaign in 2013, said he has no problems with the lending approach Moneytree is seeking. “I’ve looked at the policy and it seems to be a pretty reasonable model,” he said. “There’ve been surveys that say 80 percent [of low-income borrowers] prefer the installment plan.”

Sen. Jayapal begs to differ. “This is a travesty.

They want to make more money on the backs of poor people,” she said. “This was a painful loss.”

Liias, meanwhile, said he has no second thoughts about helping Moneytree. “I wouldn’t have worked on this [legislation],” he said, “if I didn’t think it was going to help our low-income families.” E

econklin@seattleweekly.com

JON STICH

the chatterbox » Hope Solo’s Destructive Duet Last week, Rick Anderson detailed the violent misadventures of Hope Solo and husband Jerramy Stevens (“Hope & Jerramy,” March 11, 2015). Readers were awed. “Aside from drinking and ’tude problems, plus too much time and money on their hands, did either ask themselves, ‘What could go wrong if I married someone just like me?’ The results are in.” —Sheryl “Fascinating to see just how long of a rap sheet Stevens has. I remember the Times series from some years back and was amazed then. He’s added quite a bit to it since.

Why do I think it’s going to get longer and even more serious?” —Tharmon “‘I take seriously my responsibilities as a role model,’ Solo says. A role model for what, Budweiser?” —Hammermaster

•

•

How does it work? “Every city’s different,” said Licata at a forum last month. “You can’t borrow the entire program from somewhere.”

That said, most participatory budgeting involves dividing a city into regions, asking the citizens of each region to propose projects that would use a set amount of city funds, and then having a vote.

Participatory-budgeting proponents claim that the success of projects across the U.S. has helped battle the ill effects of gentrification and lift up more impoverished neighborhoods.

How are funds allocated? In 2009,

Chicago’s 49th Ward executed the nation’s first participatory-budgeting project. Citizens there talked over their community’s needs, reflected on those plans, and voted into action projects totaling $1.3 million. Since then, three additional wards have been added to the project. Seattle hasn’t had wards since 1910, but as of this fall’s election, it will have seven council districts, and it’s possible that a participatory-budgeting process could follow those district lines. In 2012, however, Vallejo, Calif., became the first city to allocate funds on a citywide basis. So, what would it look like in Seattle? At this point, it’s just too early to tell.

What kinds of projects? Participatorybudgeting projects often favor capital spending—that is, only stuff that can be built—because programs, the other potential type of spending, usually have to be funded again every year. If they aren’t, the city’s investment is essentially lost. At the forum, Licata made sure to point out that he’s looking to implement the process slowly, and is by no means interested in replacing the city’s entire discretionary budget or the process of passing it through the City Council. “If we think about this here as a sort of pilot project, maybe we want to focus on what is doable within the context of at least using some money to go through the exercise of voting.

To try out what works and doesn’t work.” E

news@seattleweekly.com

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

Liias’ bill, SB 5899, which would keep the loan limit at $700 but permits lenders to charge up to $495 in interest fees if the loan is held for six

et’s be honest. No one wants to do the budget. At best, it’s dreadfully tedious; at worst, downright depressing. So it’s fair that the average Seattleite might balk at the idea of doing the city’s budget.

Yes, those are our tax dollars, but who has time to pore over line items for bulk handtowels in the City Hall washroom? To be clear, that is not what participatory budgeting is. As a growing list of proponents will tell you, participatory budgeting is not depressing, but rather an empowering process that has worked in cities around the world. Seattle City Councilmember Nick Licata and the Seattle City Neighborhood Council have been holding forums to discuss bringing the concept to Seattle. Here’s what you need to know.

JOSE TRUJILLO

tate Sen. Marko Liias concedes he’s taking some heat these days. That can happen when a well-entrenched payday-loan lender like Moneytree asks for favors, contributes $3,800 to your campaign, and then hits paydirt in the Senate with a bill—with your name on the dotted line as prime sponsor—that could make the company many, many millions in extra fees.

“I know this looks really bad, and I’ve heard the complaints, but it’s not like ‘You give me a contribution and you get a bill out of this,’ ” the 33-year-old Lynnwood Democrat told Seattle Weekly last week. “Sure, this industry is not beyond reproach, but a lot of people don’t like the fact that we have a lot of low-income folks who can’t make ends meet, and so there has to be a product like this.”

The product, as Sen. Liias calls it, is a whole new way that high-interest, unsecured shortterm loans can be marketed to poor families, those living paycheck to paycheck. The median income of payday-loan borrowers is just over $22,400 a year, with 70 percent of the loan recipients using the money to cover basic expenses and 16 percent using the cash for emergencies, according to the Consumer Protection Financial Bureau. Nationwide, at any given time, there are an estimated $22 million in payday loans (around $825,000 in Washington) outstanding, and fees collected on those loans by consumer finance firms amount to $8 billion a year.

Washington boasts one of the strongest payday lending laws in the nation. In 2009, the state set firm limits at $700 per loan. Borrowers could be charged a $95 fee by companies like Moneytree, with the entire amount usually due in 14 days. The law also dictates that borrowers can take out no more than eight loans a year.

These reforms dealt a major fiscal blow to payday lenders. Not only did the number of statewide locations shrink from around 500 in 2009 to about 170 last year, but the value of total loans issued plummeted during that period, from $1.3 billion to $331 million in 2013.

This did not sit well with lenders, and the industry, with Moneytree leading the charge, has spent the past several years lobbying lawmakers to rejigger the law.

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news&comment»

Educating John

As efforts at eradicating prostitution focus on eliminating demand, officials are sending sex buyers to a new, intensive 10-week class.

BY NINA SHAPIRO

I

JOSE TRUJILLO

Peter Qualliotine’s new class seeks to uncover johns’ “brokenness” and “desperation.”

who had taken her to a cemetery, raped her, and strangled her until she was nearly dead.

“Many of these men really are dangerous sexual predators,” Qualliotine says. Many, of course, are not. But even the nonviolent men, Qualliotine argues, cause harm—by perpetuating an industry that traps prostitutes (“survivors” in his lexicon) into what he deems degrading work while sexually objectifying women at large. He also contends that these men are harming themselves.

He says that of all the johns he’s met, almost none have said they “feel great” about buying sex or that prostitution is meeting their needs. As Qualliotine sees it, that’s because they’re coming to prostitution from a place of “brokenness” and “desperation,” wanting a genuine human connection rather than mere sex. “You can’t get there from here,” he says, meaning that a genuine connection is not something a financial transaction can provide.

And so in his new john school, he spends a lot of time trying to draw the men out about why they’re going to prostitutes and how they feel about it. He also takes them through a “gendersocialization” exercise that explores the way men learn to behave, including sexually. He has them look at poetry and other works of art created by sex workers, in an attempt to get the men to see prostitutes as human beings. And he talks about other ways besides prostitution that the men can meet their need for connection.

Having just finished his first 10-week session, he says he’s never seen johns “more open” to what he has to offer. He’s consequently hoping that Seattle, too, will eventually send solicitors of sex to this more intensive class.

Lan Pham, the manager of Seattle’s Office on Domestic Violence & Sexual Assault Prevention who oversees the city’s john school,

says it’s a possibility, but the city would first want to see evidence that the program is actually changing behavior.

It would indeed be interesting to see evidence of

the program’s impact, or even to hear from onetime johns. For some time now, former and current sex workers have been the only ones speaking up, whether to decry prostitution or to defend it.

In the latter camp is a group known as the Sex Workers Outreach Project, which has been vigorously fighting the recent bills in the legislature.

In interviews, SWOP leaders have stood up for their clients. Some of these johns, they say, find it hard to have sex outside prostitution because they are disabled, have a sick wife, or are stuck in a sexless marriage, SWOP spokesperson and former sex worker Savannah Sly tells Seattle Weekly.

Johns themselves, though, have largely let sex workers do the talking. Qualliotine asked his classes whether anyone would agree to be interviewed for this story, to no avail. SWOP, however, found a number of men who agreed to speak, albeit anonymously.

“It’s been something that’s been really positive for me, to be honest with you,” says one man, disputing Qualliotine’s contention that johns themselves feel bad about buying sex. In fact, he contends that his longtime “provider,” as he calls the sex worker he sees, is his “best friend.”

“We walk our dogs together. We go out to dinner together,” says the man we’ll call Bruce, a software salesperson who lives on the Eastside.

“Obviously there’s an exchange of money.” He pays $200 an hour when sex is involved, $100 for nonsexual “social” activities like dinner. “But I pay a lot of people for their time.”

His wife of 36 years knows about the relationship, and she sees other men (although not pros-

titutes) too, according to Bruce. As he describes it, he was having sex with his wife, but not that often, when he started seeing his first prostitute 15 years ago. He was in the throes of a midlife crisis, and wanted to act out a submission fantasy involving a dominatrix. The sex worker he saw fulfilled that fantasy and also helped him overcome an ambivalence about being touched.

He says he suffers from low self-esteem, and has niggling questions about how genuine the relationship is, given that it is bought and paid for. But one thing he doesn’t seem to worry about is whether he’s being exploitative. “If I felt I was ruining these women’s lives, I would walk away in a second,” he says.

Similarly, another sex buyer, whom we’ll call Charlie, doesn’t feel like he’s violated anybody’s rights by paying for sex, which he’s done sporadically for seven years, ever since a breakup caused him to go looking for “some fun” online. “It was very civilized,” he says of the encounters, which have led him to both male and female sex workers.

“There were no disgusting, dirty motel rooms,” he says. One woman he’s seen repeatedly had him into her Rainier Valley home—one she owns, he points out. He ventures that the selfemployed sex worker, who, he says, advertises her services on a tasteful website, earns more than he does. He sees what happened between them as “a kind of therapy,” conducted by a woman “who was enjoying herself as much as I was.”

Is Charlie deluding himself? “I understand there was a performance aspect,” he acknowledges.

He also acknowledges that his experience with upmarket, well-paid, self-employed sex workers represents a tiny slice of the industry—one with a much larger abusive side. Johns who patronize “the bad side,” he says, should be punished more harshly. “I’m surprised to hear myself say that,” he allows after the words come out of his mouth.

It’s true that the sex industry has many sides.

It’s one reason the debate about prostitution is so complicated. If Bruce and Charlie were sent to john school, would they come to see their own participation in the sex industry as problematic?

It’s doubtful, given how firmly they believe that what they’re doing is positive for all concerned.

Qualliotine, for all his surety that prostitution is harmful, seems to accept that there are people, perhaps many, whom he will never convince. He recalls one student of the Seattle john school who said at the end that his biggest takeaway was to avoid street prostitution and patronize massage parlors instead, so he wouldn’t get caught.

Yet Qualliotine also says that one student in his new 10-week course asked for a referral to somebody with whom he could talk more about “all this stuff.” This was a man who had confided in class that he patronized young prostitutes in order to feel powerful.

It’s this kind of self-examination, rather than a didactic flogging, that Qualliotine says he’s after.

He adds, referring to the johns, “We’re just trying to open up some possibilities for them.” E

nshapiro@seattleweekly.com

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

was horny.” That’s the line Peter Qualliotine says he often hears when he asks men why they bought sex from a prostitute. His stock response: “Let’s unpack horniness a little bit.”

If that sounds like he’s leading a class, it’s because he is. Qualliotine, co-founder of a Seattle group called Organization for Prostitution Survivors, has for several years been teaching a local “john school” for men (and, he says, they are always men) who have been referred by the courts after being charged with patronizing a sex worker. The men, who are attending either as a condition of their sentence or to escape jail time, don’t want to be there. And little evidence exists to show that the class is changing anyone’s behavior, Qualliotine admits. He himself feels it’s likely having a limited effect. “There’s nowhere near enough time,” he explains.

And so, with the help of the King County Prosecutor’s office and a grant from Demand Abolition, a national nonprofit that seeks to eradicate the sex industry by eliminating demand, he recently began a new county-wide john school that runs for 10 weeks—longer than almost any other comparable program in the county.

His first class in this intensive program began in January. It takes men who have been brought up on felony charges of soliciting a minor as well as those charged by municipalities other than Seattle with the more common misdemeanor offense of patronizing an adult prostitute. The men pay $900 to attend—considerably more than the $150 sex solicitors pay for the Seattle class.

“I am very excited and hopeful,” says county deputy prosecutor Valiant Richey, who works on juvenile-prostitution cases and is a point person in his office for developing strategies aimed at ending the illegal-sex industry. Over the past couple of years, he says, there has been a “huge shift” toward cracking down on sex buyers rather than workers—an approach that follows what has become known as the “Nordic model” due to its early adoption in Scandinavia.

This approach is playing out at the legislative level as well. This session in Olympia, a flurry of bills sought to increase penalties for johns, including one that would subject three-time offenders to a year in prison and another that would seize their assets prior to conviction. These bills don’t appear to be going anywhere this year, but they did whip up controversy and re-energize debates about the nature of the sex industry and who, if anyone, is being harmed.

Meeting for coffee in Pioneer Square one day last week, Qualliotine, a tall and bearded 49-year-old with a sociologist’s vernacular, tells a story about one of the first sex-buyer classes he taught, after starting a program in Portland in 1995. A former sex worker came in to speak.

After scanning the crowd of men, she suddenly ran out of the room.

“I caught up with her on the front porch,” Qualliotine recalls. “She was leaning over and throwing up.” She told him, “Peter, that’s him.” According to Qualliotine, she was referring to a onetime john

7

news&comment»

Come Together

Celebrated jazz musician and self-styled philosopher Evan Flory-Barnes calls out our call-out culture.

BY KELTON SEARS

S P R I N G

Flory-Barnes’ call to humanity is in line with a recent trend. Widely circulated articles including Asam Ahmad’s “A Note on Call-Out Culture,” Jon Ronson’s “How One Stupid Tweet Blew Up Justine Sacco’s Life,” and Slate’s year-end retrospective, “The Year of Outrage 2014,” all ask a similar question: Is yelling at each other online the best way to do the Internet?

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post, I took the bait. I sat down oneon-one with him at Café Solstice to talk about this ritual he’s created, which he has dubbed the “Holistic Hang.”

He says that since that initial post, he’s held three Holistic Hangs, all successes Flory-Barnes calls his hangs “an act of subversion.” in his eyes. Old, young, artists, immigrants, black, white: All have joined him at a table to talk about whatever, and accordhen a Missouri grand jury ing to him, it feels like healing. He plans to turn decided not to indict Officer the gatherings into a regular event.

Darren Wilson in the shoot“I feel like informal space with people, it’s ing death of Michael Brown, truly an act of subversion,” Flory-Barnes says.

Seattle’s Evan Flory-Barnes says he felt over“If you have a group of people hanging out, loaded. As with many other Americans—Afriand it’s truly a wide range of people, you find can-Americans in particular—a distinct sense of this common ground, and the common ground injustice and anger welled up within him. is being human. And then if someone posts “It was tough—at first I was mad and letting some story about this horrible atrocity hapit rip online and not giving a damn,” Florypening here, or this dire injustice over here—in Barnes says. But the words clacking out from his your own immediate experiential reality, you’re keyboard weren’t working. He needed another experiencing harmony, connection, warmth, outlet. “Yeah, there’s outrage that needs to be felt celebration of diversity.” and it’s important for that to be felt, but once Flory-Barnes is a musical omnipresence—a you are done feeling the outrage, you’ve got to staple, with his upright bass, at the revered feel the sadness.” Sadness doesn’t translate well weekly Lovecitylove improv nights, a core in the reactionary world of online commenting, member of the celebrated local genre-defying so Flory-Barnes, a musician and composer, called jazz group Industrial Revelation, and an upon his particular talents to express what words original composer you can find playing solo couldn’t. “I wrote this song and posted it . . . it gigs all over the city. And like many great jazz was like that’s the only way I knew how to do it.” musicians, he’s also a self-taught philosopher.

Flory-Barnes posted a video of himself playHe casually quotes the Dalai Lama, Carl Jung, ing the song, “Meditation for Michael (An Ram Dass, Chögyam Trungpa, Wayne Dyer, Attempt to Return Innocence Stolen),” to Faceand Eckhart Tolle throughout our chat. He book. Very quickly his wall filled with comments even has a name for his own personal philosoeffusive with thanks. phy: “endotheistic humanism.”

“Pretty much how I’m feeling,” one com“The idea of some dude in the sky judging people menter wrote. has never been what God is about to me,” Flory“Much more said than any words could, you Barnes says. “The ‘endotheistic’ in my philosophy know?” wrote another. refers to the idea that the God is within us all and “Man are you on the right path.”

He realized that he might be on to something. connects us all. The humanism is—it’s more important to create goodness between human beings, no Nine days into 2015, Flory-Barnes took matter how unique their perspective is, than to have to Facebook again, and this time typed a very war over the truths. The idea that there’s one truth unusual post. that can win just doesn’t sit with me.”

“Comments sections will not cut it,” he wrote.

It’s a philosophy at odds with the call-out cul“Tomorrow I will be at Cafe Solstice on 10th ture that has consumed social media, but FloryAve and Thomas on Capitol Hill from about 1-4:30pm. I love the power of the internet, but too Barnes has no plans to abandon the Internet.

He continues to post unexpected thoughts and many things are arising to deal with via the comdeclarations that cut through our endless cycle of ments section. There is a violence that’s amplified outrage with their borderline-defiant positivity. due to a lack of engagement. This is hurting us.

The antidote is immediate and informal com“I had a teacher who once told me, you can’t get munity. Providing that space tomorrow. Let’s hang angry enough to heal all the atrocities of the world. and be human beings together.” The invitation You can’t get sick enough to heal people who are was radical, but it was also such a simple, obvious sick,’” Flory-Barnes says. “I believe that.” E thing. Talking to people, in person, about things. ksears@seattleweekly.com KELTON SEARS

250 Pine St. / Seattle, WA 98101 206-441-2639

Three months after Flory-Barnes’ initial

W

Slumlord Battle Continues, Mayor Declares Victory Anyway

N

eighbors were enlisted. Signs were made. Cameras and reporters were notified. And on Friday morning, City Hall’s finest took to a sidewalk in Roosevelt for an open-air press conference to announce some important news: Nothing’s changed.

Not that you could have concluded that from the press conference, the cheering crowd, or the ensuing news coverage of the city’s latest attempt to crack down on 88-year-old Hugh Sisley, Seattle’s most resilient slumlord.

“Today we are announcing our plan to take what has been nothing short of a black eye on this neighborhood and turn it into something that the entire commuBY RICK ANDERSON nity can enjoy,” Mayor Ed Murray said, addressing the crowd next to a row of boarded-up Sisley properties. He gave the impression that if Sisley didn’t pay $3 million in fines, the properties would be seized and replaced by a park. City Attorney Pete Holmes hailed it as an “innovative solution,” and Councilmember Jean Godden declared “today’s win” as “one for our neighborhood.”

SEATTLELAND

KAREN STEICHEN

Sisley’s eyesores, near Roosevelt High.

None of that is true, says Sisley’s attorney Jeff Grant. The tiny park, should it evolve, will be on what is already vacant land. That nearby slum row is not part of the park plan, and Sisley is working with a private company on redevelopment there. There was no recent “judgment of $3.3 million.” As we reported

randerson@seattleweekly.com

Rick Anderson writes about sex, crime, money, and politics, which tend to be the same thing.

His latest book is Floating Feet: Irregular Dispatches From the Emerald City.

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

The media followed the city’s lead; Roosevelt’s long dilapidation nightmare was over.

KIRO-TV explained it thus: “In exchange for $3 million in fines on your blighted property, give us the park. Refuse, and we’ll take it by eminent domain.” The Seattle Times’ headline was “City pocket park may replace Rooseveltarea blight.” KING-TV called it “a plan to demolish buildings and create a public park in their place.” KOMO-TV said that Murray and Holmes announced “the city has just been awarded a judgment of $3.3 million against property owners Hugh and Martha Sisley.”

last year (“A New Hope,” Jan. 8, 2014; “Hugh Sisley’s Slumlord Tab Now $3 Million, City Says After Recalculation,” Jan. 17, 2014), that’s the record-setting total in fines and interest built up over what has been more than 35 years of hand-to-hand combat with Sisley, who is trying to whittle down his bill in talks with the city.

“Those headlines, some reporting, were incorrect,” says Grant. “Nobody’s talking about wholesale demolition of Mr. Sisley’s properties.” Actually, officials were talking about a park plan that could end up costing the city money. The City Council this week will consider legislation to create the .02-acre park on 14th Avenue Northeast at Northeast 65th Street. They’d like Sisley to deed over the property, allowing him to subtract the fair market value from his tab. If he refuses, the city would legally seize the property and sell it, then buy it, at a sheriff ’s auction. (If outbid, the city says it would seize the land from the buyer through eminent domain, paying fair market value).

Though the city and Sisley have been moving toward settlement of the $3 million debt, Grant says, he didn’t learn of the press conference until a reporter called him the day before.

“A thing like this, it doesn’t help, I can tell you that,” he says. “Five high-level city officials, all publicly elected, call a press conference that seems intended only to bash somebody.”

Of course, Sisley, owner of four dozen Roosevelt homes and lots, is a notorious footdragger, amassing close to 200 code-enforcement cases dating to the 1980s, according to city records. They include violations for faulty wiring, unsafe conditions, insect infestation, junk storage, emergency situations, and unfit vacant buildings subject to demolition. Taken to court more than two dozen times to force his compliance, Sisley staves off payment of fines with lengthy legal appeals. His current fines are mostly the result of two cases he has been appealing for six years. But the appeals have all run their course, attorney Grant says.

In an editorial last week, the Times felt “The city is fed up and is not going to take it any more. . . . If a muscled-up approach can sweep away blight, Godspeed.” But officials have yet to show they’ve found a Sisley solution, and what that press conference amounted to was a victory declaration in the midst of battle.

“The press conference might have made sense if our latest deadline had come and gone,” says Grant. “But it hasn’t. There’s no mystery that things have been contentious,” he says of the negotiations. “We’re trying to work a deal in connection with the development going on there. We’ll continue to meet and talk, and try not to let hard feelings get in the way.”

And if the talks fail? “If the whole thing collapsed, if everyone digs in and the properties end up going through judicial foreclosure?” says Grant. “Well, that could take many more years.” E

9

Sitting in dry-dock in Port Townsend, covered in barnacles, is a piece of literary history that has been threatened by time, the sea, and a restaurateur.

Now saved, John Steinbeck’s legendary vessel sees new life.

The

RESURRECTION of the

WESTERN FLYER

10

DANIEL BERMAN

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

By Patrick HutcHison “Some have said they have felt a boat shudder before she struck a rock, or cry when she beached and the surf poured into her. This is not mysticism, but identification; man, building this greatest and most personal of all tools, has in turn received a boat-shaped mind, and the boat, a man-shaped soul.

His spirit and the tendrils of his feeling are so deep in a boat that the identification is complete.”

— John Steinbeck, The Log From the Sea of Cortez

I

t is well after dark by the time I make it to Port Townsend. The clock on the dash of my car glows 8:03. Pulling up to the city’s south-side boatyard, no gate or guard station bars my entry into the maze of gleaming sailboats and rugged tugs, all dry-docked, dark, and quiet. I navigate among their hulls toward the back of the lot, looking for a boat I know but have never seen.

Then, around the corner of an imposing warehouse, bathed in the artificial glow of industrial lights, sits the boat they call the Western Flyer, held up on all sides by stout steel supports and looking as if it had just washed ashore after a natural disaster. It looks like a boat that has been through hell and back twice, ready for the junkyard. Unless there were a reason and a person to save it.

If I were approaching the Western Flyer 75 years ago, the boat would have been bobbing leisurely in the Sea of Cortez. Instead of pulling up in a station wagon, I would have been gliding across the water in a dinghy driven by Ed Ricketts and his good friend, John Steinbeck.

In 1940, amid the chaos of fame that followed the publication of The Grapes of Wrath, the celebrated author needed a break. Luckily, his best friend Ricketts needed one too, embroiled in his own relationship difficulties and, reportedly, a bout with depression. They decided to take a voyage— to rent a boat with crew and travel, starting in Monterey, Calif., down around the Baja peninsula.

The official reason for their trip was to collect marine specimens for Ricketts, a biologist who operated a lab in Monterey that sold the specimens to various educational institutions. But the spirit of the journey was one of adventure and escape.

Along with them was a small crew—a captain, an engineer, and a couple of deck hands, plus Steinbeck’s wife at the time, Carol. For six weeks they sweltered in the Mexican heat, spending endless days upturning rocks, searching for all manner of marine life, and visiting with locals in tiny beach towns and fishing villages. Each night, they would return to their boat, the Western Flyer.

Eleven years after their trip, The Log From the Sea of Cortez was published, chronicling their journey. It remains today a cult classic among marine biologists and those who find value in the romantic idea of a boat trip to a distant land.

For Steinbeck fans, the boat was a romantic symbol of a beloved story, and many wanted to see it returned to Monterey now that its useful fishing life was coming to a close. But the associated costs proved a daunting obstacle. Over the past 30 years, the saga of restoring the Western Flyer has been dramatic and sometimes tragic.

Neglected and often considered a hopeless pipe dream, the boat’s destiny was nearly sealed in destruction when an unlikely hero arrived to purchase it, adopt all its problems, and return the boat to its former glory. It is this man, geologist John Gregg, whom I am here to meet.

Gregg was 10 when he first read The Log From the Sea of Cortez. His father’s government job moved the family around a lot, so Gregg was used to small doses of travel and exciting new places, but he had never read anything like this.

“I fell in love with the adventure of it all, “ he’ll tell me. “Sailing down to Mexico with your best friend. I was hooked.” Gregg gobbled up other works by Steinbeck and became a lifelong fan.

Gregg had eyed the boat for a while, earnestly looking to buy it for about 10 years before he got his first real chance. When a man named Gerry Kehoe bought it in 2010 and announced his plans to essentially dissemble it, Gregg started making calls.

“Once a month, I would call and just say ‘Hey, how about this boat?’, and I just kept getting denials. I couldn’t even get past his business partner.

But then I started mentioning numbers. He’s a business dude, so I knew I was going to get the wrong end of the deal.

Once I accepted that, I just decided to pay him too much and be done with it, which I knew was going to happen.”

Reports since the sale, which closed in mid-February, reveal that the final price was a cool $1 million—not a bad profit for Kehoe, considering he’d bought the boat for the price of a decked-out Camaro.

Now Gregg has the chance to give something back to his childhood heroes: to restore the vessel that took Steinbeck and Ricketts on their infamous voyage.

I park my car in the shadow of the Western Flyer and get out. Gregg and I exchange brief introductions over handshakes and stand for a moment in silence. Our breath puffs away like little smokestacks as we gaze up at all 93 tons of hulking, rotting beast. Gregg turns to me and asks, “You want to get up there?”

“Absolutely.”

He climbs into a forklift and uses it to position the stairs. Then we climb up to the messy deck of the Western Flyer.

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“I fell in love with the adventure of it all. Sailing down to Mexico with your best friend.

I was hooked.”

back to work as a fishing vessel, experiencing the rise and fall of Pacific fisheries as it was passed from owner to owner, up and down the West Coast. The boat’s decades of history are chronicled in the book, The Western Flyer: Steinbeck’s Boat, the Sea of Cortez, and the Saga of Pacific Fisheries, to be released March 23, by Seattle author and former NOAA scientist Kevin Bailey.

According to Bailey’s book, the boat was present for, and contributed to, the overfishing of the Monterey sardine industry before moving north to do its part in the boom and bust of Alaska’s crab fisheries and Puget Sound’s salmon fishing.

During that time, the Western Flyer went about its work anonymously. If new owners knew of the boat’s past, they didn’t care much, or at least didn’t broadcast it. In many ways, the Western Flyer disappeared until the mid-’80s, when family members of the original crew that had worked with Steinbeck tracked it down.

Though most closely identified with Monterey, The Western Flyer is actually a product of the Northwest. It was built in Tacoma in 1937 by a Dalmation Slav immigrant named Martin Petrich in his shipyard, the Western Boat Building Company. At the time, Puget Sound was one of the biggest centers of wooden-boat building in the country, if not the world, and the Western Boat Building Company was among the top in the industry. Designed to be a purse seiner—casting wide nets and dragging them through the water to catch schools of fish—the Flyer immediately struck out for the sardine-rich waters of Monterey, captained by a man named

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 12

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SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

After Steinbeck’s voyage, the Western Flyer went

INTRO TO

11

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

12

Tony Berry, whose father had helped Petrich build the boat.

Among the crew that helped Steinbeck and Ricketts along their journey were Captain Berry and Horace “Sparky” Enea. Years afterward, Sparky would write a book of his own, revealing behind-the-scenes details of the cruise. At the time, Steinbeck and his wife Carol were not doing well—not sharing a room, in fact, during the entire voyage. At port towns, they would go their separate ways; on board, Carol was frequently seen giggling and chatting with crew members.

Bob Enea, the nephew of both Sparky and Tony Berry, who were connected by marriage, remembers the tease of Sparky’s stories as a child. “I come from a Sicilian The Western Flyer launches at family, and we had spaghetti and Western Boat Builders in Tacoma, meatballs every Sunday with all March 4, 1937. the uncles and aunts and cousins.

After the table was cleared and Kehoe’s plans were coffee was served, someone would always say to my varied and tragic. He uncles, ‘Tell us a story about the Western Flyer’. And wanted to turn the Westthat’s when my mother would make all us kids go ern Flyer into a restaurant outside,” recalls Enea with a chuckle.

Years later, when Enea was in his 40s, he asked attraction, floating in an indoor moat or chopped up and his uncle Tony where the boat ended up. All used as a bar in Salinas. His ideas Tony recalled was that he had sold it to someone brought public outcry and misgivings in the Northwest. So Enea started looking. from historical societies and Steinbeck’s own It took a fair bit of sleuthing to track down family. Enea recalls hearing the plans. “We were the boat—then called the Gemini—but he found just devastated and then we learned what his it in 1986 in Anacortes, owned by a salmon plan was. It was absolutely ridiculous.” fisherman named Ole Knudson. Enea had one Meanwhile, the boat was dying. Clinging to idea: to buy the boat, restore it, and sail it back life under a patchwork of blue tarps, the Western into Monterey with his Uncle Tony at the helm.

Flyer sat in Anacortes, neglected.

Knudson was willing to sell, but Enea didn’t have In September 2012 it sank—not due to some the money. adventurous grounding or rough-and-tumble A few years later, a likely financial source surfaced. A new Steinbeck Center was being built in storm, but from basic, destructive neglect. One plank simply broke, and the boat eased into the Monterey, with a budget large enough to include matte-grey waters of Anacortes’ Twin Bridges restoration of the Western Flyer. Enea, a board marina without dignity or even a hint of drama. member, made sure the project was included.

What little fuel and oil remained on board But when construction of the Center ran over seeped into the water, and armies of federal and budget in 1998, the Western Flyer lost its fundenvironmental agencies swarmed the Flyer as ing. Enea went back to the drawing board. For Kehoe paid an estimated $100,000 to have it the next decade he kept track of the boat, which brought back to the surface and mended. remained floating and running in Anacortes. In But the fix wouldn’t last long. Four months fact, according to Kevin Bailey’s research, Knudlater, it sank again in the same spot. Only this son began to considering restoring it himself, not time it stayed down, bathing in the waters for love of Steinbeck but for love of the boat. It outside of Anacortes for a solid six months. wasn’t until 2010 that Enea made another big Finally Kehoe paid to have it brought up again, effort, hosting a fundraising dinner that raised and onlookers came to watch the ocean pour $10,000—about a quarter of what it might cost out of its hull. to buy the Western Flyer, and not nearly enough The second sinking did far more damage to fully restore it. But Enea also raised something than the first. Railings fell off, wood was rotelse that evening, attention. ted out, and marine life did its best to make a In an article in a local Monterey paper shortly long-term meal out of every imaginable piece. after the fundraiser, the case for the restoration To Kehoe’s credit, he then towed the boat to of the Western Flyer was made public. But when local businessman Gerry Kehoe read the story, he Port Townsend and had it dry-docked, with continued plans to eventually have it restored. had his own idea.

But those plans remained just plans. And then Not long after the fundraiser, Kehoe bought Gregg came calling. the boat from Knudson. At the time, Enea and his partners at the nonprofit he had started, The Western Flyer Project, simply didn’t have Not a square inch of the Western Flyer looks northe resources. And yet they felt slighted, as mal. To wander around inside is to enter a sort of though the boat had been bought out from mind game. It feels as if you are underwater, explorunder them. When they found out what ing the wreckage of a long-abandoned ship.

Kehoe wanted to do with the boat, their misAt the back of the pilothouse, the floor is givings morphed into hatred. covered in scraped-off barnacles that give one

He estimates that it will take $2 million to fix the boat, though he says with a chuckle, “I just kind of made that number up. I actually think it’ll take about a million, but that’s the thing with boats—they always cost more than you think.” He should know. As the owner of an expansive drilling and excavating business with operations up and down the West Coast, Gregg is no stranger to big vessels.

In fact, he owns a boatyard where industrial craft used for offshore drilling operations are maintained and Left to right: Tony Berry, Frank Berry, and Martin Petrich. serviced. Despite this, he’s a self-proclaimed “dumb guy” when it comes to working with wooden boats. the sensation of walking on Luckily, plenty of helpers are ready and willing. a bed of Frosted Flakes.

For research and restoration planning, he’ll have Through the small rear Allen Petrich, whose bloodline runs straight to the door is the Western heart of the Western Flyer’s hull. It was, of course, Flyer’s galley. Under a Petrich’s grandfather Martin who built it in 1937. blanket of dried sea Born the year that Steinbeck and Ricketts set sail, sludge, it’s still posthe younger Petrich had plenty of stories to hear. sible to make out the “As a kid, you grow up and hear stories of your important features: uncle so-and-so, or your grandpa that did this or a small stove, a sink, that, and you appreciate it, but we grew up around a table. Through the a lot of stories,” Petrich says. “The Western Flyer room’s portholes, the was just one of the stories we heard about as kids. orange glow of outside ... At the time, we just wanted to play, go to the lights gives the illusion of movies, go to dances, and party.” a dawn sunlight, barely illuTry as he might to forge his own path indeminating the room. pendent of the family business, Petrich could Gregg points out the captain’s not distance himself from his heritage. Nearly quarters, where Steinbeck’s wife Carol slept; the 75 years old and retired, he has been working for original folding map table and small desk are still a decade on an ever-growing, all-encompassing intact. The Honduran mahogany interior was history of West Coast boat-building. Part of that once a rich shade of light brown that would have research led him to Gregg and back to the old glowed in the sunlight. Now those surfaces are boat his grandfather built. a dismal grey. The brass fixtures and handles of “Allen probably knows more about this boat drawers and cabinets, once smooth and bright, than anyone,” says Gregg. When the two met, are now corroded to a pale turquoise and rough Petrich regaled Gregg for hours about intricate to the touch. To simply say that the boat is details of the boat’s construction—including covered in barnacles and mud does not do the little secrets, like the common practice of placing degradation justice; instead, imagine that a boat a St. Christopher medal underneath the mast. originally built of barnacles and mud now has Those memories, along with the old documents a minor infestation of wood and metal. Yet the and photographs in Petrich’s possession and his cupboards still swing on their hinges, the floor extensive knowledge of wooden-boat building, feels solid, and tiny details still hold strong. A will help ensure Gregg can bring the boat back small latch on the door leaving the wheelhouse to its original self, or as close as possible. still delicately catches its corresponding hole, Gregg also plans to utilize the skills of Port sliding into place with a smart click.

Townsend’s wooden-boat builders. Drawing on In the belly of the ship sit two massive dietheir decades of experience and local institutions sel engines, predictably covered in dehydrated like the Northwest School for Wooden Boat marine creatures and appearing as some kind of Building, Gregg can think of no better or more industrial fossils. Toward the back is the boat’s poetic place to restore the Western Flyer. After all, fish hold, where Ricketts and Steinbeck kept the it was born in Washington. It makes sense that it specimens they collected and where countless should rise from the grave in the same place. fishermen after that stored their own catch. Even Bob Enea will be helping out as well. While his after all these years, you can still smell the lingering aroma of fish, engine oil, and grease. own dreams of restoring the boat never came true, he is working with Gregg to return it to Monterey after it is restored. And Gregg is on board.

Gregg admits that this purchase was not What the old boat’s new owner doesn’t want is meant as an investment. Rather, it’s a personal for the Flyer to fade into history as a simple decoendeavor—a project that a person would have ration. “My fear is that some of these boats end to be inspired take on beyond the promise of up doing sunset cruises and whale-watches, and monetary gain. It’s one reason he believes the haulin’ dead people’s ashes around. I don’t want to boat wasn’t easy to resurrect. “I was surprised by a whore it out like that. I want kids to pull plankton lot of people in Monterey who got so emotional nets, and there’ll be a lab in the hold and microabout the boat but weren’t willing to sign a check scopes over there,” he says from within the hull of to fix the problem,” says Gregg. “But it was his project. “If you put a hundred kids on this boat, clearly a bad deal. I thought it was just a vanity two of them will get into marine science by the project that only I would care about at first, and time they’re in college. That’s the hope.” E then I saw the outpouring of support people had for me. It’s been nice.” news@seattleweekly.com COURTESY THE PETRICH FAMILIES COLLECTION

THE RESURRECTION OF THE WESTERN FLYER » FROM PAGE 11

food&drink

Drinkin’ in the ID

BY JASON PRICE

BY JASON PRICE

PHOTOS BY JASON PRICE

I

exits the bar, I get a regular to talk to me, who tells me that the place is mostly filled with folks from ages 40–80 and beyond. He adds, “Stop calling it the ID. Everyone that lives down here calls it Chinatown, man.”

8:12 p.m. The Dynasty Room at Four Seas has approximately 14 Caucasian people in it, all looking quite pleased (except the bartender, who was complaining that she was “slammed”).

Bartenders’ matching Seahawks tats.

Debating The X-Files at the Dynasty Room.

People are eating, while in the giant main dining room, three young dudes forlornly sit at a single table. The bar is covered in old-school wood paneling, and, to my surprise, has some higher-end booze on offer. I get another Tsingtao, attempting to maintain sobriety in order to endure the balance of the evening. Three people at the bar are debating The X-Files pre- and post-Duchovny.

Shitty pop music blares through the speakers as an electric dartboard sits idle in the corner behind some boxes. I notice a pattern in the places I’ve been: For some reason, every one of them has boxes piled up in the bar. Maybe they’re supplies, maybe they’re empty—I don’t know.

They’re just there. And almost always there’s some old desktop computer in the way. Why? On my way out I make a pit stop and discover what may very well be the last porcelain pee trough in the city of Seattle. Gone are the days when even the humble communal urinal could be both classy and classic at the same time.

8:56 p.m. is when things start falling apart. I walk past a giant, cartoonish fish stuck in a tiny aquarium at Kau Kau. Is it talking to me? What’s he saying? I don’t know. I plow on to Bush Garden,

The last of the porcelain pee troughs?

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 14

Here’s something to be happy about: cannabis cookies. Yes, Jody Hall, aka the owner of Cupcake Royale, has started a new outfit called The Goodship Company, which will bring us edibles and happiness. The Capitol Hill Blog reports that two types of cookies—sea-salt chocolate chip and Saigon cinnamon snickerdoodle—will be available at 10 I-502 retailers around the state.

With all the news about people getting harassed simply for offering hugs on a busy street downtown, you might need a spiritual lift. Maybe more donut shops to cheer you up? Luckily you can find a new one in White Center, where Mardi Gras Donuts will help you celebrate and perhaps regain faith in humanity at the same time.

The West Seattle Blog reports that New Orleans-born owner Mike Williams will be serving hot beignets, as well as several other varieties of donuts, at 9828 16th Ave. S.W. from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. every day. E morningfoodnews@gmail.com

TheWeeklyDish

Octopus Bolognese at Tavolàta.

BY NICOLE SPRINKLE

Tavolàta was one of my favorite restaurants when I moved to Seattle four years ago. It’s remained my 7-year-old daughter’s; she fell in love with their spicy rigatoni when she was 4, which meant we still went for special occasions even though I’d long since tired of it. It’s not that the food wasn’t good, but that the menu never seemed to change.

However, when we went last week to celebrate a birthday, I was incredibly excited to see a bevy of new dishes, all of them enticing. I finally settled on the octopus Bolognese, which I later found out had been added to the menu just that night. Served over lumache (snail-shaped) pasta, the tomato sauce was brightly flavored via a gremolata (lemon zest, garlic, and parsley) and full of super-tender (not rubbery) small discs of octopus, which brought the plate a gratifying hint of the sea. The parsley garnish gave the dish even more of that zesty brightness—an herb used the way it’s meant to be. By choosing octopus and parsley, Tavolàta is smartly able to give a hearty Bolognese a lighter spin. I couldn’t eat it fast enough. E nsprinkle@seattleweekly.com

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

and dancing for the equilibrium-challenged.

It’s a scene. Bartender Drake, replete with a Seahawks logo tattooed across his bald head, tells me that Joe’s is a “totally divey bar— maybe one of the last left in the city.” The place also offers nightly food specials in an affordable price range from $5.25 to $7, including Monday’s “Spagetti Dinner.” The pull-tab rules start with #1—Thirst Comes First. Indeed.

I like this place in a weird way, and I’m welcomed just like every other average Joe. It’s like an old worn-out sweater or an ex you can always go see to get laid. After a couple of Redhook drafts, I ask bartender Carmelita, who also has a Hawks tattoo inside her ear and has somehow managed to survive working here for more than seven years, “What’s the most fucked-up thing you’ve ever seen on the job?” Her response: “I once saw a guy drive a stolen ambulance into a building across the street and then walk in to order a rum and Coke. He’d been arrested and taken to Harborview, but didn’t want to go inside.” Just then, a gal (maybe a guy?) who looks like Jackie from Risky Business with the big man hands and smells pretty, says hello to me and puts her hand on my leg. Fearing for both my sanity and safety, I flee to my next stop . . .

7:38 p.m. As I walk through the semi-full parking lot into Sun Ya’s cocktail lounge, I’m greeted by the smells of cleaning solution and seafood. The lounge is a ’50s-style tarnished red enclave with squeaky red pleather chairs covered in packing tape and a fondue pot-colored orange woodburning stove that looks like it hasn’t been lit in 25 years. Sitting at a table in front of a faded bigscreen TV are four old Chinese dudes gambling on basketball and drinking vodka. I’m told that one of them is the owner—or landlord, maybe.

The bartender, a woman by the name of Junk-o (sp?) grunts at me asking what I want.

I notice that all booze is the same price, except for Southern Comfort which is $6.25 and considered top-shelf here. I order a Tsingtao and start to question her about the place. Before I finish, she says, “Who are you and what do you want?” When I tell her I’m a hack writer putting together a story about drinking in the ID, she says “Screw you! The last time I talk to someone from The Stranger they lied. All lies!!!” After she

Those of you who love your sloppy biscuits for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or the fourth meal will be happy to know that Biscuit Bitch opened a second location at 2303 Third Ave. in Belltown. Fortunately, there will be more space for regulars to get their Easy Bitches, and for the walking dead who inhabit the area late at night.

JOSE TRUJILLO

One man’s harrowing journey through the watering holes of the International District. ’d been dreaming of spending an evening scoping out the few remaining drinking haunts in the International District for some time.

However, what I thought would be a journey down Seattle’s memory lane turned into a bender of epic proportions. Somewhere during my tenure at the fourth bar, time and space no longer meant anything to me. It was neon sign after neon sign with frightening roasted animals hanging in windows and colorful dragons looming overhead.

The whole scene felt like a weird booze-fueled Twilight Zone episode starring Ray Milland. And so it goes . . .

6:27 p.m. I decide to make my foray into the ID at Joe’s Bar and Grill. For anyone who thinks Seattle is being taken over by millennial brogrammers and the like, you need to spend a couple of hours here on any given night.

Joe’s has been owned since 1964 by some guy named Jim who gave the place its name as a spot for the average Joe. Its denizens include everyone from that guy on the bus to the dude who brings your mail to the panhandler on the corner. Verbal abuse flies across the bar.

“Hey—you got my fuckin’ quarter?!” and “I’m unsanitary? You’re unsanitary, bro!” are some of the things I think I might have heard.

A communal phone charger is plugged into the wall and classic-rock tunes play loudly, complete with air guitar, out-of-tune singing,

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Bubbles.” A woman beats me at a game of hangman, and I stumble onto the street after maybe four G&Ts. I’ve lost count. And they were all doubles. Seeing double, I stumble to my final locale for the evening . . .

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» FROM PAGE 13 which was high on my list for the evening. Why? Karaoke. Let’s face it: You can either sing or you can’t. And unfortunately I fall into the latter category, which is why I enjoy going to very forgiving places to do it while surrounded by my drunken brethren and sisters. Like any karaoke bar, it starts slow like a shitty Mariah Carey ballad and then slowly devolves into a mashup of Boy George and Rob Halford. Some Russell Wilson-looking dude with a faux-hawk walks in, wearing green plaid golf pants and a buttoned-up Polo covered with a giant horse cameo. He sings “All by Myself.” I feel complete.

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SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

11:52 p.m. I find Fort St. George, which has been described to me by many along my route this evening as “a Japanese yuppie bar.” Expecting vibrant flat screens filled with incomprehensible anime, I head upstairs to find what is truly the only upscale cocktail bar in the ID. And it’s packed. I somehow flag down the bartender, who looks an awful lot like James Iha from Smashing Pumpkins, and order another gin and tonic. As I talk to him about my story, he recommends I try three Japanese whiskies—on him. Bad choice.

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Japanese whiskies at Fort St. George.

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The dining room is both giant and empty.

When you’re advertising things like “Jumbo Beef Cutlets,” it’s not hard to figure out why. It’s also a reminder that booze can subsidize a restaurant for a very long time. An evil, impish bartender called Sid begins to liberally pour me gin and tonics, while some Vietnamese character pounding Glenlivet tells me stories that I forget immediately. I try to look busy as I write a grocery list. Then I think I buy him one, hoping that the alcohol will make him forget how to speak. Or me how to hear.

I then see server Susie, who is about six feet tall with long blonde pigtails reminiscent of Heidi, Girl of the Alps. She’s been there for 20-plus years, and happily tells me about the glory days of Bush Garden, when the second floor was open and the tatami rooms were always packed full. Some post-sorority-glorydays chick sings “Toxic” by Britney Spears. A Hawaiian-shirt-wearing fat guy sings “Tiny

Sitting beside me is some Fran Drescher lookalike arguing with a guy who is clearly being kept in the “friend zone,” much to his chagrin.

I think they are talking about The Royal Tenenbaums, but who cares? I hate all Wes Anderson movies. What I care about is my rapidly deteriorating cognitive skills and the fact that the last three things I’ve inexplicably written in my notebook are “I’m now drunk as fuck,” “21 years in space,” and “Want to return home b4 I fall.”

I make the fortunate decision to descend back to street level through a waft of ganja smoke and find a curb to sit on before fumbling around on my phone to electronically hail a cab. I know I made it home because I wake up there the next morning with a message that a kind soul named Salim had deposited me there for a grand total of $18.38. I don’t know if there is a God, but if there is, his or her name might just be Uber. E

food@seattleweekly.com

A not-so-popular bathroom lounge.

arts&culture The Fall of House of Cards

ThisWeek’s PickList

BY MARK RAHNER

THURSDAY, MARCH 19

hat sound you’re hearing is no one talking about House of Cards Season 3. Or maybe it’s crickets with a bad Southern drawl. After two wickedly fun, binge-watchable seasons that helped change the way—and the places—quality TV gets made, you could say the show jumped the shark. That is, if Fonzie had whipped out a switchblade and cut his own throat in midjump over the shark cage.

What happened—apart from a pointed reminder that the main character’s initials are “F.U.”? I give you the wisdom of Spock from “Amok Time”: We have found that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting. Except in this case, it’s not some pointy-eared homewrecker winning a calculating Vulcan tramp.

It’s Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) and his soulless, possibly android wife Claire (Robin Wright) having won the Oval Office. And man, is it a drag for them to be there and a joyless grind for us to watch. This show went from water-cooler TV to something that took splashing cold water on my face to get through.

What the hell went wrong? Spoilers ahead . . .

There’s a tendency for journalists to fixate on a film’s troubled production history. If it took X number of years and Y number of millions to finish, it must be . . . [fill in the blank, usually terrible]. So try to cast aside the tangled history of this charming French animated film, based on a Hans Christian Andersen tale, created (and extensively revised) by director Paul Grimault and screenwriter Jacques Prévert between 1948–79. That patchwork process and recent restoration aren’t seamless. There’s a prewar, almost Disney aspect to the innocent, fugitive lovers (a shepherdess and a chimney sweep); and the monarch in pursuit of them is a comic despot who nonetheless carries a whiff of ’30s fascism. The silly chase scenes through a 296-floor castle (plus dungeon city) would appeal to kids who don’t get the politics, but they may not appreciate the subtitles.

Grown-up viewers will discern how Grimault and Prévert’s late-’70s revisions reflected the tumult of the prior decade. Their impudent talking Mockingbird is a wise-ass revolutionary, like some Gallic Abbie Hoffman; and the king’s giant mechanical robot reflects sci-fi fears of global annihilation.

How a once-great TV show left reality behind, made naughty characters unlikable, and embraced crackpot economics.

T

DAVID GIESBRECHT/NETFLIX

After getting his head bashed in by an exhooker (Rachel Brosnahan) in Season 2, Frank’s fanatical chief of staff Doug Stamper (Michael Kelly) turns out to be alive. Not only did he survive that prostittack, but now that alcoholic asshole is—between PT sessions—out for revenge on his assailant. Stamper’s so obsessed it’s almost comical. She’s a loose end from Season 1, so he tracks her down, actually buys a creepy white stalker van, then kills her and buries her in a shallow grave. Funny, I don’t remember that bit from the BBC version.

What else do we get for sticking with such

shitty, off-putting characters for another 13-hour season? Frank’s hell-bent on the success of his “America Works” program to create precious new jobs by slashing the social safety net. Hang on, you might protest, Frank may be a sociopath, but he’s still a Democrat. Isn’t cutting the safety net the domain of the right-wingers, teabaggers, and corporatists whose brain power is as deficient as their morality? (See also: Ayn Rand.)

Not in the bizarro politics of HOC Season 3.

In its first-episode Gipper-style speech, Frank insists that “entitlements” (a loathsome term) are bankrupting us. Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid are sucking us dry, Frank says.

The short real-world response is: No, they’re not.

Follow-up response: What would happen to all those people who rely on the safety net? The once-savvy show never addresses that, and no one bothers to challenge Frank’s assertions.

But wait, you might ask, Isn’t HOC just a TV show? Pure entertainment? A darkly satirical fantasia with political themes? True. It ain’t a Paul Krugman column in The New York Times, let alone a documentary. Yet part of what made the

first two seasons of HOC so good was their smart engagement with a recognizable political realm we might read about in the Times. The characters were exaggerated, but the Beltway intrigue didn’t feel like ridiculous Jim Thompson fan fiction.

Here’s an analogy: Remember how on 24 super-agent Jack Bauer tortured scores of bad guys to get vital information and save the world? Some viewers—and Cheneyesque political insiders— forgot this was fiction, that torture was both a war crime and an ineffective means of getting reliable intel. Underwood’s America Works—“AmWorks” for short—is even more insidious than that.

Now, with President Underwood suddenly spouting crackpot ideas about the economy and social safety net, HOC ’s departure from the reality-based community goes from willing suspension of disbelief to the sound of a needle scratching across a record. And here’s another gripe: It turns out one of HOC ’s consultants is Jim Kessler, co-founder of Third Way, a selfproclaimed “moderate” think tank with a Wall Street-funded hard-on for entitlement reform, pension reductions, and similar humanitarian goals that involve throwing vulnerable people under the bus. The joint’s known for spreading misinformation about those programs, as in a December op-ed for The Wall Street Journal that also attacked Senator Elizabeth Warren, aka the Anti-Hillary. (Willimon worked for Hillary on her 2000 senate race.)

They should have ended HOC at the end of Season 2, with Frank and Claire triumphant, the future blank and tantalizing. Instead, the show feels like a hack job in the 2016 presidential race (already underway), only Frank has murdered all the fact-checkers. E

markrahner.com

The Mockingbird and his brood.

The linework is both storybook and satirical. Not enough that the vainglorious king should live in the world’s tallest castle—it must be served by the most spindly, ridiculous Rube Goldberg elevator ever devised. Meanwhile, down in the dungeons of this totalitarian edifice, the lions and tigers can be dissuaded from eating prisoners—they’ll even waltz together!—if music is played. Art is the last defense against tyranny. (Through Sun.) Northwest Film

Forum, 1515 12th Ave., 267-5380, nwfilmforum. org. $6–$11. 8 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

Los Lobos

Los Lobos recently celebrated 40 years as a band.

That’s a serious milestone, especially considering they’ve managed to keep the lineup intact for nearly that entire time. And while they’ve never had a ton of commercial success (save for their 1987 version of “La Bamba”), their records are just as acclaimed as their live show. The band’s multi-genre sound—which blends roots, rock, R&B, and norteño—has allowed them to tour with the best of the best, including Dylan, U2,

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

Underwood was a scheming congressman, later Vice President, who made us accomplices by breaking the fourth wall like Ferris Bueller by way of Loki. HOC show runner Beau Willimon adapted the device from the original 1990 BBC miniseries, though it always makes me think of William Sadler’s deranged executioner in the 1999 Tales From the Crypt episode “The Man Who Was Death.”

But as President in Season 3, Frank’s not fun anymore. The show’s whole tone has changed.

Main characters get so unlikable that you don’t want to spend quality time with them. And the plot lines are more unpalatable than Ronan Farrow getting a cable news show. Frank breaks the fourth wall much less often; and when he does, he tends to be grim and angry instead of our mischievous tour guide through D.C. sleaze.

For instance, after a meeting with Solicitor General-turned-primary rival Heather Dunbar (Elizabeth Marvel), he looks into the camera and snarls, “I’ll slit her fucking throat in broad daylight.” There’s some Southern charm.

Instead of scheming, fucking (both men and women), and committing the occasional discreet homicide, Frank just gets dumped on from all sides. His own party won’t support him for re-election, people close to him defect, and he can’t get traction for a highly dubious legacy project (more on that below). Meanwhile, becoming First Lady hasn’t made Lady Macbeth—I mean Claire—any more likable. Before, though cold, phony, and ambitious, she always had Frank’s back. Yet in Season 3 she treats Frank like he’s given her a Dutch oven under the sheets, and she won’t forgive the smell.

At odds in the Oval Office: Wright and Spacey.

RIALTO PICTURES/STUDIOCANAL

In the first two seasons of the Netflix series,

The King and the Mockingbird

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 17 15

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SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

arts&culture» or icons worshipped. Guerresi’s often-looming figures are like peaceful giants from myth, figures removed from our petty, earthly concerns. In interviews, she’s cited the influence of the poet Rumi and Sufi mysticism. “Expressing cosmic beauty heals the diseases of the soul,” says Guerresi, who’ll attend the opening. (Through May 1.) Mariane Ibrahim Gallery, 608 Second Ave.,

467-4927, marianeibrahim.com. Free. Opening reception, 6–8 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

Also Like Life: The Films of Hou Hsiao-hsien

» FROM PAGE 15 and especially the Grateful Dead. Given that close latter association, this three-night run at the Triple Door will have plenty of jamming and a flexible set list. Further reinforcing the band’s commitment to gigging, they have released more live albums than original recordings over the past decade (Disconnected in New York City being the most recent example). But rather than cranking out disposable retreads as do many bands this late into a career, Los Lobos albums are worth waiting for. 2010’s Tin Can Trust found longtime collaborators Louis Perez and David Hidalgo exploring the working-class characters of the their East L.A. neighborhood with the kind of wisdom that can only come from a lived-in life, while singer Cesar Rosas penned the pensive “All My Burning Bridges” with Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter. Whether you’re into soulful rock, cumbia, or Tex-Mex, Los Lobos has something for nearly every kind of music fan. Their reputation as a must-see live act is fully deserved. (Through Sat.) The Triple Door, 216 Union St., 838-4333, tripledoor.net. $75–$90. 8 p.m. DAVE LAKE

FRIDAY, MARCH 20

The former M.I.A. Gallery, which often features African art and photography, has moved south and changed its name to match that of its French-Somali expat owner. The old space was one of my favorite stops on the First Thursday Art Walk, but now it’s even closer to the action (and also next door to James Harris, a good neighbor to have). Inaugurating the new digs will be a selection of photos from the Italian/Senegalese Guerresi, whose studio scenes have a highly ritualized, almost theatrical aspect. The images in Light Bodies are less individual portraits of women than idealized renderings of high priestesses (or even saints, though the iconography is mostly Islamic). Colorful robes, chadors, and headdresses are elongated and enlarged, taking an almost architectural form; hats become minarets.

Female bodies fall away, or become black voids, suggesting a kind of sublimation from flesh to spirit. The devotion is solemn, mystical, opaque: We’re not sure what specific texts are being read

1403 N.E. 50th St. See nwfilmforum.org for full schedule. $5–$9. 7 p.m. (Repeats 7 p.m. Mon. at NWFF.) BRIAN MILLER

SATURDAY, MARCH 21

Amy Schumer

You probably don’t remember Schumer’s entrée into showbiz, as an uncredited extra in the 1992 musical Newsies. Since then, however, she’s become a comedy powerhouse. She rose through the stand-up ranks to star in her own sketchcomedy show on Comedy Central, Inside Amy Schumer. Now she has an unbridled platform to provide hilarious commentary on horror films, sexting, eating habits, and anything else you can think of. She’s about to get even more crazy famous after the July release of Trainwreck. Written by Schumer and directed by Judd Apatow, the raunch-com stars Schumer as a woman addicted to booze and one-night stands; Bill Hader plays the love interest who might be able to save her from her worst instincts. Or not (maybe she doesn’t need saving). What’s her comedy philosophy? As the always-ballsy Schumer recently wrote in Cosmo: “In my act, I have a joke: ‘I know what I look like. You’d bang me, but you wouldn’t blog about it.’ My real beauty lies in my humor, my strength, the kind of sister, daughter, and friend I am. But more than anything, it lies in my ability to truly not give a shit what anyone thinks of me.” Preach, mama. Emerald Queen Casino, 2024 E. 29th St. (Tacoma), 253-594-7777. $50–$120. 8:30 p.m. DIANA M. LE E

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

Maïmouna Guerresi

© MAÏMOUNA GUERRESI

Guerresi’s 2010 Suspended.

Running at two venues, this five-film selection reprises the last HHH retro in Seattle, 15 years ago, when the Grand Illusion and Northwest Film Forum were a joint enterprise. This reunion includes the Taiwanese timepieces Good Men, Good Women and Dust in the Wind, the gorgeous colonial-era Flowers of Shanghai (no less infused with memory and regret), and the more playful, contemporary Millennium Mambo. The series begins with Hou’s autobiographical 1985 A Time to Live, a Time to Die, which follows protagonist Ahhsiao (nicknamed Ah-ha) from late-’40s boyhood to the cusp of maturity. His family flees the mainland before the revolution, meaning that Ah-ha will grow up in an essentially foreign culture, uprooted from tradition. Hou treats this immigrant coming-of-age story with solemn detachment; the kids aren’t cute and the pathos isn’t overdone.

His young hero experiences considerable sadness and loss, but the movie hasn’t got an ounce of sentimentality. The family’s struggles, defeats, and setbacks are usually framed in still, quiet long shots, with the important action often taking place in the background. Hou refuses to provide false drama to Ah-ha’s gradual slide into ’60s delinquency. Instead, he simply and movingly recalls the daily rhythms of a bygone era, without nostalgia or counterfeit emotion, in each well-composed shot. (The series runs trough Saturday, March 28.) Grand Illusion,

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(3/10) UW Science Now Dan Grinnell Protecting the Dairy Industry’s Labor Force (3/10) Denis Hayes and Gail Boyer Hayes Saving the Romance Between Cows and Humans

SEATTLE’S FRENCH FEST : SEATTLE’S FRENCH FESTof: A Celebration

French-Speaking A Celebration of Cultures French-Speaking Cultures Seattle Center Armory Seattle March 22,Center 2015 Armory 11:00 AM—6:00 PM March 22, 2015 11:00 AM—7:00 PM

(3/11) The Hallowell Todaro Center: Dr. Edward Hallowell A Strength-Based Approach to ADHD (3/11) ACLU-WA presents Chris Soghoian Reining in Our Surveillance Society (3/12) Dan DiMicco Bringing Back American Manufacturing (3/13) Talk of the Town UNDERGROUND (3/14) LUCO presents Chamber Music Cabaret (3/15) Short Stories Live ‘Best of’ Edition (3/16) Sustainable Path: Putting a Price on Washington’s Climate Pollution (3/16) Robert Scheer Safeguarding Our Privacy from Corporations, and Government (3/17) KCTS Television: Barak Goodman: ‘Cancer: The Emperor of All Maladies’ (3/17) Garry Wills with Rebecca Brown Redefining the Catholic Church’s Future TOWN HALL CIVICS SCIENCE ARTS & CULTURE COMMUNITY (3/18) ISB Panel Tipping Points in Environment and Climate

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(3/19) Swedish Medical Center: Dr. Ira Byock Transforming End of Life Care

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

(3/20) Artist in Residence Juan Alonso-Rodriguez Scratch Night

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(3/21) Saturday Family Concerts Zulaika (3/22) Seattle Festival Orchestra: Orchestral Showpieces (3/23) Firland Foundation: World Tuberculosis Day 2015 (3/23) David Bonior Unpacking the Myths of Free Trade Sponsored by : Sponsored by : Coca-Cola Coca-Cola Alaska Airlines Alaska Airlines T-Mobile T-Mobile TV5 Monde TV5School Mondeof Puget Sound French-American French-American School of Puget Sound

(3/24) Friends of Cooper Island: Forty Years of a Melting Arctic 40th Anniversary Celebration with George Divoky (3/25) Town Music Deviant Septet TOWN HALL

CIVICS

SCIENCE

ARTS & CULTURE

COMMUNITY

(3/26) Global Rhythms Hamsaz Ensemble WWW.TOWNHALLSEATTLE.ORG Iran Through the Centuries (3/27) NW Children’s Fund: Childhood Adversity and the Developing Brain

arts&culture» Performance

Opening Nights The Comparables 155 MERCER ST. (SEATTLE CENTER), 443-2222. $17–$102. 7:30 P.M. WED.–SUN. PLUS SOME WED. & WEEKEND MATINEES; SEE SEATTLEREP.ORG FOR SCHEDULE. ENDS MARCH 29.

The characters in Laura Schellhardt’s custombuilt comedy about status-grubbing female real-estate agents in Manhattan gaze imperiously at you in the Rep’s lobby, their fictional bios studded with aspirational clichés about determination and manifesting one’s desires.

They represent three well-groomed models of female power: hardworking hoop-jumper, S&M-tinged seductress, and feminist pioneer (a pragmatic, hybrid predecessor of the first two). But pop them into three dimensions, and their couture seams strain with insecurity. Not since Annette Bening’s Oscar-clinching role in American Beauty has the residential real-estate industry taken such a drubbing.

Should women work collaboratively with one another to break the glass ceiling, or is it every woman for her ambitious self ? And which philosophy yields the better commissions? Those are the questions confronting late-middle-aged Bette (Linda Gehringer, with bouncy bronze tresses and ball-breaking attitude). Leaving her boutique agency to star in a reality show about women achieving their dreams (!), she’s about to bequeath her business. Her dutiful consigliere Monica (studiously sexless Cheyenne Casebier) is the logical choice, but logic be damned.

Empires like Apple aren’t built on logic; they’re built on magnetism and risk—qualities that sexy new hire Iris (Keiko Green) has in spades. While Bette rehearses evangelist-style pabulum for her show (“IRIMI! IRIMI! It means I enter without fear”), the other two duke it out for supremacy.

Though the rivalry amuses in a sitcom-y spirit, and several clever ironies weave through, any sense of the genuine vaporizes under scrutiny.

The women’s smart banter mismatches their stupid actions—particularly Monica’s, as she repeatedly falls for the same trap set by Iris.

Directed by Braden Abraham, these three skillful performers buttress their cartoonish, polarized characters. Thanks to their commitment, I stayed engaged through most of the 85-minute one-act. Green’s millennial dismissiveness about protocol is particularly fun to watch, as are costumer Frances Kenny’s power suits. But something seems desultory here, and it’s not just the jumble of Carey Wong’s set (mixing mid-century modernism, ’70s glam, and ’90s industrial chic). Maybe it’s the expositional monologues delivered as audio diary entries or offhand ramblings during aikido, golf, and calisthenics. Maybe the on-the-nose architectural analogies, like Monica’s refrain “I’m a load-bearing pillar” or Bette’s sizing people up by what kind of abode they would be. And/or maybe the protracted, tentative catfight, which drew all the more laughs for its tameness. This is Chicago playwright Schellhardt’s second work commissioned by the Rep (after 2011’s The K of D, an urban legend ). It’s got some shiny finishes. But as they say in the trade, it lacks good bones. MARGARET FRIEDMAN

PThe Vertiginous Thrill of Forsythe

MCCAW HALL, 321 MERCER ST. (SEATTLE CENTER), 441-2424, PNB.ORG. $30–$184. 7:30 P.M. THURS.–SAT., 1 P.M. SUN. ENDS MARCH 22.

William Forsythe may be a choreographer, but he sounded a bit like an engineer during a Pacific Northwest Ballet lecture-demonstration last week. If you do a stress test on a piece of metal, he said, “Something will transform or fall apart.” For him, dance operates the same way. Throughout his career, he has run the neoclassical ballet we inherited from George Balanchine through a series of choreographic stress tests.

The results have indeed transformed our expectations of the art form. Forsythe’s approach to ballet keeps the articulation and detail that has been part of the vocabulary since the 16th century, but the density and speed are definitely from the 21st.

The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude may be the shortest work on the program, but it may also be the most intense. Set to the finale of Schubert’s ninth symphony, the quintet is like one long fanfare: The dance starts at a clip and just gets faster and more exhilarating from there.

Opening night’s cast relished the challenge, feet snapping and arms wheeling, as they continued to gather momentum. Carrie Imler and Jonathan Porretta seemed to egg each other on, with Benjamin Griffiths, Leta Biasucci, and Margaret Mullin in hot pursuit.

New Suite is an anthology of duets that Forsythe has excerpted from repertory. Some are set to Handel and Bach, sharing the brisk clarity of their scores. Another group, set to music by Luciano Berio, is more eccentric: the bodies a collection of joints and sinew, folding and curving in multiple directions.

While most of the duets here exemplify singular qualities, the duo taken from Slingerland (score by Gavin Bryars) has a more complex relationship—sometimes almost conventionally romantic, but then shifting into an egalitarian contest. New Suite is full of excellent performances, including a heightened sense of clarity and attack from Ezra Thomson and moments of pure power from Angelica Generosa. The swagger in her walk as she enters the stage is entirely legit—she earns every moment.

In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated is a dance packed with attitude. The semi-industrial score by Thom Willems matches the stage, swept bare of all its draperies to expose the lights and rigging. The work was made for the Paris Opera Ballet, and the dancers’ casually aloof quality seems to evoke a French disdain for our opinion. While we are slack-jawed at their virtuosity, they don’t appear to have the same response, walking nonchalantly away after a dizzying series of turns or jointpopping extensions. Both Lesley Rausch and Elizabeth Murphy usually perform with a kind of sweetness no matter the role, but here they add a renewed sense of authority. Indeed, everyone in the cast could fix us with a glance and knock us out.

This triple bill is an intense look at a phenomenal repertory. SANDRA KURTZ E

stage@seattleweekly.com

Stage

NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY A publicity-obsessed actor

OPENINGS & EVENTS

BROADWAY BABES This “burlesque tribute to the Great

•

CURRENT RUNS

AVENUE Q (SCHOOL EDITION) From what I remember

of this show, a version with the diciest stuff removed would last about 12 minutes. I may be wrong. Youth Theatre Northwest, TPS Studio 4, Seattle Center Armory, 232-4145 x109, youththeatre.org. $10–$17. 7 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends March 22.

CHINGLISH Trying to sell bilingual signage in the fastgrowing China of David Henry Hwang’s 2011 comedy, Daniel (Evan Whitfield) is pegged as a rube by Xi Yan (Kathy Hsieh), vice minister of a small city. Daniel hires English tutor-cum-consultant Peter (Guy Nelson) to broker a deal between his firm and the city boss (Hing Lam). But, as we and Daniel will learn, everyone in Guiyang is bound by a complex web of web of guanxi, a uniquely Chinese notion of mutual responsibility owed between two people or groups. Directed by Annie Lareau, Chinglish is quickpaced, quick-witted, and brimming with humor—the mistranslations and communication breakdowns among Hwang’s characters. IRFAN SHARIFF ArtsWest, 4711 California Ave. S.W., 938-0339, artswest.org. $15–$34.50.

7:30 p.m. Wed.–Sat., 3 p.m. Sun. Ends March 29.

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» CONTINUED ON PAGE 20

Fortunate Son Some composers have it so tough: Worrying over how to fulfill a request for a piece by Toscanini—who at the time, 1936, was merely the world’s most famous and powerful conductor—the 26-year-old

BY GAVIN BORCHERT Samuel Barber finally decided to arrange for full string orchestra the slow movement of his recent string quartet. The result was the Adagio for Strings, his greatest hit; tonight’s concert by the Catalyst Quartet offers a rare chance to hear it in its original quartet form. In later works of Barber (1910–1981), his slowly flowering warmth (even though it risks cloying) convinces much more than his attempts at aggressiveness or intensity. In this quartet, though, these two moods coexist pretty happily. A gentle, choir-ish passage in the first movement seems to have a little Sacred Harp flavor; this, and of course the ecclesiastical cut of the Adagio

EARSUPPLY

itself, makes the angst elsewhere in the piece sound like an authentic striving, for something spiritual, maybe—it makes it sound sincere.

(I admit it’s probably unfair to mistrust Barber’s evocations of struggle just because he lived a life seemingly untouched by disadvantage of any kind.) The upward climb to the climax of the Adagio, in particular, is notably more moving as a metaphor when it’s four individuals doing the climbing rather than a mass. Barber’s quartet is part of the Catalyst’s all-American program, alongside music by Glass, Ives, Joan Tower, and others. Meany Hall, UW campus, 543-4880, uwworldseries.org. $35–$40 ($10 for students). 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 19.

SCOTT JACKSON

White Way” stars Bunny Von Bunsmore, Crystal Tassels, Verity Germaine, and many others. Annex Theater, 1122 E. Pike St., songbirdandraven.com. $20–$35. 8 p.m. Fri., March 20–Sat., March 21.

DINA MARTINA—TONIGHT! All-new songs, stories, and videos from the incomparable, indescribable entertaineress, with Chris Jeffries on keyboard. Re-bar, 1114 Howell St., 800-838-3006, brownpapertickets.com. $20–$25. Opens March 20. 8 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends April 26.

FAMILY AFFAIR Jennifer Jasper’s “hilarious, twisted, and ultimately relatable” cabaret on the theme of family.

JewelBox Theater at the Rendezvous, 2322 Second Ave., jenniferjasperperforms.com. $10. 7:30 p.m. Wed., March 18.

FELT-A-THON Rachel Jackson and Chad Allers’ “24-hour puppet video-making marathon” culminates in this live public performance. The Pocket Theater, 8312 Greenwood Ave. N., feltathon.com. $10–$14. 8:30 p.m. Sat., March 21.

JEN KOBER launches Parlor Live’s “Pride Comedy Series.”

Parlor Live Comedy Club, 1522 Sixth Ave., 602-1441, parlor live.com. $20–$25. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 19, 7:30 & 10:30 p.m. Fri., March 20–Sat., March 21.

MAMMA MIA! A woman’s desire to find her father brings three men from her mother’s past into their lives. With the music of ABBA, as if you didn’t know. The Paramount, 911 Pine St., 877-STG-4TIX, stgpresents.org. $25 and up. Runs March 24–29: 7:30 p.m. Tues.–Thurs., 8 p.m. Fri., 2 & 8 p.m.

Sat., 1 & 6:30 p.m. Sun. MOISTURE FESTIVAL The 12th annual varieté overload: comedy, circus, and burlesque acts of all kinds. Runs Wed.–Sun. March 19–April 12 at Hale’s Palladium, 4301 Leary Way N.W., with “Libertease Burlesque” shows March 27–April 4 at Broadway Performance Hall, 1625 Broadway, plus other events including at Teatro ZinZanni, April 7–8. See moisturefestival.org for schedule and info.

THE MOST DESERVING Catherine Trieschmann’s comedy examines the snakepit that is civic arts-council grantgiving. Theater Schmeater, 2125 Third Ave., 324-5801, schmeater.org. $22–$29. Preview March 19, opens March 20. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Sat. Ends April 18.

turns serial killer. William Goldman’s novel is now a musical. Village Theatre, 303 Front St. N., Issaquah, 425-3922202. $35–$67. Preview March 18, opens March 19. Runs Wed.–Sun.; see villagetheatre.org for exact schedule.

Ends April 26. (Runs May 1–24 in Everett.)

THE RAINMAKER arrives to transform a drought-stricken farm and its denizens in N. Richard Nash’s 1954 play.

Presented by Local Jewell Productions. The Ballard Underground, 2220 N.W. Market St., 800-838-3006, brown papertickets.com. $15–$20. Opens March 20. 8 p.m. Fri., 2 & 8 p.m. Sat. Ends April 4.

AMY SCHUMER SEE THE PICK LIST, PAGE 17.

TARTUFFE Seattle Shakes is resetting Molière’s enduring farce about swindlers and hypocrisy in 1947. Center House Theatre, Seattle Center Armory, 733-8222. $25–$48.

Previews March 18–19, opens March 20. 7:30 p.m.

Wed.–Sat. plus some weekend matinees; see seattle shakespeare.org for exact schedule. Ends April 12.

season sponsor

producing partners

EdgErton Foundation

206-443-2222 seattlerep.org

Following every performance join us for happy hour-priced drinks and lively conversation.

Linda Gehringer, Cheyenne Casebier and Keiko Green.

Photo by Nate Watters.

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

ay The pl as ThaT h o all f e seaTTl ! g in Talk

19

arts&culture» Performance & Literary CIRQUE DU SOLEIL “KURIOS—Cabinet of Curiosities”

asks “What if by engaging our imagination and opening our minds we could unlock the door to a world of wonders?” Marymoor Park, 6046 W. Lake Sammamish Pkwy.

N.E., Redmond, 800-450-1480, cirquedusoleil.com/kurios. $35–$156. 8 p.m. Tues.–Sat., 4:30 p.m. Sat. (& some Fri.), 1:30 & 5 p.m. Sun. Ends March 22.

THE COMPARABLES SEE REVIEW, PAGE 18.

THE FLICK Annie Baker’s Pulitzer winner is a magical mingling of Pinter pauses, Ibsenesque naturalism, and flashes of Pirandello. Brevity is not one of its selling points, but the script takes chances that this New Century Theatre Company production, directed by MJ Sieber, does finally redeem. Working in a dilapidated old single-screen movie theater, ushers Sam (Sam Hagen) and Avery (Tyler Trerise) and projectionist Rose (Emily Chisholm) discuss film, the transition from 35 millimeter to digital, and life in general. A millennial David Mamet, Baker captures, like, the speech patterns of Generations X and Y; keenly conveys the universal experiences and rants of peons in the service industry; and beautifully depicts the human condition through her trio of underachievers. Worthwhile for both ardent theater lovers and those theater-averse members of Generation Me, so seldom represented onstage. ALYSSA DYKSTERHOUSE The Mainstage at 12th Avenue Arts, 1620 12th Ave., wearenctc.org. $15–$35.

8 p.m. Thurs.–Sat., 7 p.m. Sun. Ends April 4.

GOOD MORNING CAMPERS Jet City Improv “lets audiences relive the wonders of summer camp without any of the homesickness.” Yes, you will sing along. 5510 University Way N.E., jetcityimprov.org. $12–$15. 8 p.m.

Thurs.–Fri. Ends March 20.

GOODNIGHT MOON Based on the bedtime book by Margaret Wise Brown and Clement Hurd, this musical debuted here in 2007. Now a new wave of kids can enjoy it. Seattle Children’s Theatre, Seattle Center, 4413322. $20 and up. Runs Thurs.–Sun.; see sct.org for exact schedule. Ends April 26.

I LOVE YOU, YOU’RE PERFECT, NOW CHANGE Joe DiPietro’s long-running off-Broadway hit about the vagaries of love. Burien Actors Theatre, 14501 Fourth Ave. S.W., Burien, 242-5180, burienactorstheatre.org. $7–$20. 8 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun. Ends March 22.

•

JACQUES BREL IS ALIVE AND WELL & LIVING IN PARIS Well, he was when this revue celebrating the

Belgian songwriter opened in 1968. ACT Theatre, 700 Union St., 292-7676, acttheatre.org. $15–$49. Preview March 11, opens March 12. 7:30 p.m. Tues.–Wed., 8 p.m.

Thurs.–Fri., 2 & 8 p.m. Sat., 2 & 7 p.m. Sun. Ends May 17.

MARCH IS CABARET MONTH Classic cabaret from a variety of artists; see ballardjamhouse.com for lineup.

Egan’s Ballard Jam House, 1707 N.W. Market St., 7891621. $15 for one show, $25 for both (+ $10 food/drink min.). 7 & 9 p.m. Fri.–Sat. Ends March 28.

SNOW FALLING ON CEDARS A stage version of David Guterson’s Puget Sound-set play. Bainbridge Performing Arts, 200 Madison Ave. N., Bainbridge Island, 842-8569, bainbridgeperformingarts.org. $19–$27. 7:30 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 3 p.m. Sun., plus 7:30 p.m. Mon., March 23. Ends March 29.

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

PRATT PRESENTS ITS BI-ANNUAL OPEN HOUSE:

20

ONE H T NIGHT

6-9PM SATURDAY MARCH 28 2015 1902 S. MAIN ST.• SEATTLE, WA 98144

FREE ADMISSION FREE PARKING

FAMILY FRIENDLY

WWW.PRATT.ORG

Dreya Weber make “love and magic in the digital age collide.” Teatro ZinZanni, 222 Mercer St., 802-0015. $99 and up. Runs Thurs.–Sun. plus some Wed.; see zinzanni.com/ seattle for exact schedule. Ends June 7.

Dance

NB: THE VERTIGINOUS THRILL OF FORSYTHE • PSEE REVIEW, PAGE 18.

ZULAIKA Tour the vibrant traditions of the Middle East

through dance. Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave., townhall seattle.org. $5. 11 a.m. Sat., March 21.

Classical, Etc.

ZAKIR HUSSAIN AND THE MASTERS OF PERCUSSION The renowned tabla virtuoso performs.

The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., 877-STG-4TIX, stgpresents. org. $35–$42.50. 8 p.m. Thurs., March 20.

CATALYST QUARTET SEE EAR SUPPLY, PAGE 19.

SEATTLE SYMPHONY Their Sibelius cycle continues with the Symphonies #3 and 4 and the Violin Concerto.

Benaroya Hall, Third Ave. & Union St., 215-4747, seattle symphony.org. $20–$120. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., March 19; 8 p.m.

Sat., March 21; 2 p.m. Sun., March 22.

SEATTLE CHAMBER PLAYERS A premiere by Juan Pampin, written to interact with the exhibit the common S E N S E at Henry Art Gallery, UW campus, henryart.org.

Free w/museum admission. 7 p.m. Fri., March 20.

THE MAP Scenes from a new opera by Jay Hamilton based on the writings of Ninon de l’Enclos, ancien régime arts patroness and salon habitué. PONCHO Concert Hall, Cornish College of the Arts, 710 E. Roy St., cornish.edu.

Donation. 3:30 p.m. Sat., March 21.

• • • •

NORTHWEST CHAMBER CHOIR/CONCORD CHAMBER CHOIR Frank Martin’s Mass for Double Choir,

plus Gorecki, Messiaen, and more. Bellevue Presbyterian Church, 1717 Bellevue Way N.E., Bellevue, northwest chamberchorus.org. $12–$22. 7:30 p.m. Sat., March 21.

NORTHWEST BOYCHOIR Duruflé’s beloved Requiem, plus music by Mozart and Randall Thompson. St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, 4805 N.E. 45th St., nwboychoir.org. $5–$25. 7:30 p.m. Sat., March 21.

SEATTLE CHORAL COMPANY Music from Sweden, traversing the wide gap from Alfvén to ABBA. St. Mark’s Cathedral, 1245 10th Ave. E., 363-1100, seattlechoral company.org. $25. 8 p.m. Fri., March 20–Sat., March 21.

PACIFIC MUSICWORKS This early-music group turns its attention to America—where “early” can include the mid-1800s, namely the music of Stephen Foster. Benaroya Recital Hall, Third Ave. & Union St., 215-4747, pacificmusic works.org. $10–$40. 8 p.m. Sat., March 21.

DEVIANT SEPTET Stravinsky’s Soldier’s Tale and other works for the same grouping. Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave., townhallseattle.org. $10–$25. 7:30 p.m. Wed., March 25.

• •

B Y G AV I N B O R C H E R T

Send events to stage@seattleweekly.com, dance@seattleweekly.com, or classical@seattleweekly.com

Author Events

Luís Alberto Urrea, at Hugo House.

from his satirical new novel • PAUL BEATTY HeThereads Sellout. Seattle Central Library, on race relations, 1000 Fourth Ave., 386-4636, spl.org. 7 p.m. Weds., March 18.

JOHN NEELEMAN Logos: A Novel of Christianity’s Origin is his historical fiction debut. University Book Store, 4326 University Way N.E., 634-3400, bookstore.washington.edu. 7 p.m. Weds., March 18.

DAVID VANN He discusses his new book, Aquarium about a young girl who finds comfort at the Seattle Aquarium. Elliott Bay Book Co., 1521 10th Ave., 6246600, elliottbaybook.com. 7 p.m. Weds., March 18.

TIMOTHY WILLIAMS He signs The Honest Folk of Guadeloupe, a new installment in the Anne Marie Lavenaud series. Seattle Mystery Bookshop, 117 Cherry St., 587-5737, seattlemystery.com. Noon.

Weds., March 18.

ALMA ALEXANDER Random is a part of her Were Chronicles YA fantasy series. University Book Store, Thurs., 7 p.m. March 19.

JANE HIRSHFIELD Come, Thief is her latest book of poetry. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Thurs., March 19.

FARZANA MARIE She discusses Load Poems Like Guns, an anthology of Afghan women’s poetry she translated and edited. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Fri., March 20.

FERRETT STEINMETZ His new book Flex imagines a world where narcotics let you bend reality. University Book Store, 7 p.m. Fri., March 20.

SARAH MANGUSTO David Shields talks to her about her new book Ongoingness: The End of a Diary, in which she discusses the decision to terminate a diary she’d kept for 25 years. She’s already received high praise from Miranda July. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Sat., March 21.

STEPHEN ALTER Becoming a Mountain is the story of the author’s Himalayan treks taken after he and his wife were brutally attacked. Elliott Bay, 3 p.m. Sun., March 22.

DAVID BONIOR The former Michigan congressman and author of Eastside Kid: A Memoir of My Youth From Detroit to Congress speaks on a panel on trade issues.

Town Hall, 1119 Eighth Ave., 652-4255, townhallseattle.org. $5. 7:30 p.m. Mon., March 23.

CARYL PHILLIPS The Lost Child is his tenth novel.

Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Mon., March 23.

MARY DORIA RUSSELL Nancy Pearl talks to her about her new historical fiction novel about the Wild West and 19th century politics, Epitaph. University Book Store, 7 p.m. Tues., March 24.

JACQUELINE WINSPEAR Masie’s journey home takes a strange turn in A Dangerous Place. Seattle Mystery Bookshop, Noon. Tues., March 24. (Also: Third Place Books 7 p.m.)

CAROL CASSELLA The local author/anesthesiologist sets her thriller Gemini in Seattle, where her heroine is a doctor. Parkplace Books, 348 Parkplace Ctr. (Kirkland), 425-828-6546, parkplacebookskirkland. com. 7 p.m. Wed., March 25.

BRANDON MULL Crystal Keepers is the third install-

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ment in the best-selling Five Kingdoms fantasy series.

Third Place Books, 7 p.m. Wed., March 25.

MARIE-ROSE PHAN-LÊ Talking Story: One Woman’s Quest to Preserve Ancient Spiritual and Healing Traditions is her companion to an award-winning film. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Wed, March 25. (Also: Third Place, 7 p.m. Thurs., March 26.)

JAMES HANNAHAM In his new Delicious Foods, a widow finds herself separated from her son on a mysterious farm. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Thurs., March 26.

LUÍS ALBERTO URREA The prolific author (The Hummingbird’s Daughter, The Devil’s Highway, etc.) discusses his craft. Richard Hugo House, 1634 11th Ave., 322-7030, hugohouse.org. $12. 7 p.m. Thurs., March 26.

DEBORAH BACHARACH Her new collection of poems, After I Stop Lying, focuses on women dealing with the mundane. Third Place Books, 6:30 p.m. Fri., March 27.

BLAINE HARDEN The Great Leader and the Fighter Pilot is the non-fiction account latest from the Seattle journalist about the rise of Kim Il-sung, North Korea’s founding dictator. Town Hall, $5. 7:30 p.m. Fri., March 27.

J.A. JANCE Her new Cold Betrayal is about a woman facing two very strange and dangerous crises. Seattle Mystery Bookshop, Noon. Fri., March 27.

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BY D IA NA M . LE

Send events to books@seattleweekly.com See seattleweekly.com for full listings = Recommended

•

Images by ALEC MILLER

TEATRO ZINZANNI: THE HOT SPOT Frank Ferrante and

RICHARD HUGO HOUSE

» FROM PAGE 19

» Visual Arts

ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE • BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM ®

“SIX TALES OF APOCALYPTIC REVENGE. THE YEAR’S MOST FEARLESSLY FUNNY FILM.” CHANGE-SEED Twenty-five artists from Hong Kong

seek to update the U.S. on shifts in contemporary art created outside mainland China. Most works are small, concerned with the body and functionality.

Opening reception, 5-9 p.m. Thurs., March 19. CoCA Georgetown, 5701 Sixth Ave. S., 728-1980, cocaseattle.org. 11 a.m-5 p.m. Wed.-Fri. Ends May 15.

Ongoing

DAYA ASTOR AND CAROLYN GRACZ The artists

DI N I NG

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AND

AGUSTÍN ALMODÓVAR

MELINDA HURST-FRYE AND SARAH FANSLER LAVIN The two locals show new work in organic fruit

still lifes and geometric wire sculptures, respectively.

Core Gallery, 117 Prefontaine Pl. S. (Tashiro Kaplan Building), 467-4444, coregallery.com. Noon-6 p.m.

Wed.-Sat. Ends March 28.

IMAGINATURE Surreal nature-inspired work from local artists. Kirkland Arts Center, 620 Market St., 425-8227161, kirklandartscenter.org. 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Tues.Sat. Ends March 27.

IN LEGO, WE CONNECT Tiny toy tableaux are captured in whimsical photos by Vesa Lehtimäki (from Finland), Shelly Corbett (local) and Boris Vanrillaer (a Swede). Bryan Ohno Gallery, 521 S. Main St., 4596857, bryanohno.com. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Mon.-Sat. Ends April 11.

INDIGENOUS BEAUTY A collection of traditional Native American artwork from the Diker Collection, with a Northwest sidebar. Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 654-3121, seattleartmuseum.org. $12.50$19.50. 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Wed.-Sun. (Open to 9 p.m.

Thurs.) Ends May 17.

STEVE JENSEN He works with recycled materials to explore notions of death and loss. Abmeyer + Wood Fine Arts, 1210 Second Ave., 628-9501, abmeyerwood.com. 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Mon.-Sat. Ends March 28.

FAY JONES The Seattle icon showcases her signature surrealist imagery. Seattle ArtREsource, 625 First Ave., Suite 200, 838-6295, seattleartresource.com.

10:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Tues.-Sat. Ends March 31.

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KAREN KOSOGLAD AND VICTORIA JOHNSON

Two artists explore abstraction through mixed media and paint. Lisa Harris Gallery, 1922 Pike Place, lisaharrisgallery.com, 443-3315. 10 a.m.- 5:30 p.m.

Mon.-Sat. Ends March 29.

JUDITH LARSEN She honors the work of female journalists and human-rights and social-justice workers in her oil and watercolor portraits. M. Rosetta Hunter Art Gallery, Seattle Central College, 1701 Broadway, 934-4379, seattlecentral.edu. 9 a.m.-3:30 p.m. Mon.-Fri. 5 p.m.-7 p.m. Tues.-Wed. Ends March 25.

YOONA LEE She explores race in America through monochromatic paintings. Zeitgeist, 171 S. Jackson St., 583-0497, zeitgeistcoffee.com. 6 a.m.-7 p.m.

Mon.-Fri. 8 a.m.-7 p.m. Sat.-Sun. Ends April 1.

OUR DAILY HOMAGE New work from gallery artists Eric Carson, Mark Daughhetee, and Jenny Fillius features altars, icons, and figures of devotion. ArtsWest, 4711 California Ave. S.W., 938-063, artswest.org.

1:30 p.m.-7:30 p.m. Thurs.-Sat. Ends May 2.

PITCH Common objects are the subjects for Erik Shane Swanson, James Scheuren, and Philip LaDeau. SOIL Gallery, 112 Third Ave. S. (Tashiro Kaplan Building), 264-8061, soilart.org. Noon-5 p.m. Thu.-Sun. Ends March 28.

THE PORTRAIT REFRAMED This group show features work by Anita Nowacka, Davis Freeman, Jay Defehr, and others. Stacya Silverman Gallery, 614 W. McGraw St., 270-9465, stacyasilverman.com. Hours by appointment. Ends June 15.

EMILY POTHAST Her show, which also includes works by other artists, including William Blake, is called Drawing God From Direct Observation. Hedreen Gallery (Seattle U), 901 12th Ave., 296-2244. 1:30-6 p.m. Wed.-Sat. Ends April 4.

PROCESS AND ARTIFACTS Work from 12 local artists who represent the Duwamish Artist Residency.

Gallery4Culture, 101 Prefontaine Pl. S. (Tashiro Kaplan Building), galleries.4culture.org. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Mon.-Fri. Ends March 26.

ELLWOOD T. RISK The Los Angeles artist uses graphic design. Hall|Spassov Gallery, 319 Third Ave. S., 4533244. 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Tues.-Sat. Ends March 31.

REBEKAH SLAVIN In Repetitions, she uses reflective materials and other media to explore the notion of reiteration in space. Vermillion, 4 p.m.-Midnight. Tues.Wed., Sun. 4 p.m.-2 a.m. Fri.-Sat. Ends April 4.

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H A P P Y H OU R

A R T S AND E NT E R TAI NM E NT ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT NEWSLETTER

Find out about upcoming performances, exhibitions, openings and special events.

hen s J. Co ldman ougla o D G y m b a l illi ica A Mus novel by W n the ased o

BARBARA STERNBERGER AND PATTI BOWMAN

Inner Passage features paintings from Bellingham artist Sternberger. Bowman, from Seattle, depicts urban scenes. Linda Hodges Gallery, 316 First Ave. S. 624-3034, lindahodgesgallery.com. 10:30 a.m.-5 p.m. Tues.-Sat. Ends March 28.

B

ON STAGE in issaquah MArch 19 – April 26

BY D IA NA M . LE

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present work under the rubrics Quotidian Urban Geometry and Perspective. Shift Gallery, 312 S. Washington St. (Tashiro Kaplan Building), shiftgallery.org. Noon-5 p.m. Fri.-Sat. Ends March 28.

SHERI BAKES Her oil paintings capture light and motion in nature. Foster/White Gallery, 220 Third Ave S., 622-2833, fosterwhite.com. 10 a.m.-6 p.m. Tues.-Sat. Ends April 1.

BELONGING Activist profiles and original artwork explore the cultural and political climate leading up to the Immigration Act of 1965. Wing Luke Museum, 719 S. King St., 623-5124, wingluke.org. $9.95-$14.95. 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Tues.-Sun. MARK BENNION AND MARITA DINGUS The artists exhibit New Works and The Girls. Traver Gallery, 110 Union St., 587-6501, travergallery.com. 10 a.m.-6 p.m.

Tues.-Fri. 10 a.m-5 p.m. Sat. Ends March 28.

GALA BENT AND BLAKE HAYGOOD A Chorus for the Multiverse and The How, What, and Wherefore explore complex themes through watercolor, acrylic, and graphite on paper. G. Gibson Gallery, 300 S. Washington St. (Tashiro Kaplan Building), 587-4033, ggibsongallery.com. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Wed.-Sat. Ends April 18.

SQUEAK CARNWATH Songs collects the Oakland painter’s large, bright new works, many of them covered in text culled from her favorite music lyrics. Also on view, new ceramics in Taking Form: Quality in Clay.

James Harris Gallery, 604 Second Ave, 903-6220, jamesharrisgallery.com. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Sat. Ends March 28.

CLAY COLLECTS CLAY The most treasured pots from private collections. Pottery Northwest, 226 First Ave. N., 285-4421, potterynorthwest.org. 11 a.m.-5 p.m.

Tues.-Fri. Ends April 3.

DIRTBAG SISTERS Working under one name, Karie Jane and Jess Bonin contemplate the pursuit of happiness in a conceptual show called Happily Never After. Punch Gallery, 119 Prefontaine Pl. S. (Tashiro Kaplan Building), 621-1945, punchgallery.org.

Noon-5 p.m. Thurs.-Sat. Ends March 28.

CHARLES EMERSON AND GUY ANDERSON The two painters take inspiration from the Northwest landscape. Sisko Gallery, 3126 Elliott Ave., 283-2998, siskoworks.com. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Fri.-Sun. Ends May 3.

EQUILUX Featuring the art of Jon MacNair, Lauren Napolitano, Talia Migliaccio, Bunnie Reiss, and others.

Flatcolor Gallery, 77 S. Main St., 390-6537, flatcolor. com. Noon-6 p.m. Wed.-Sat. Ends March 28.

FAERIE III For the third year, artists from all over the world create their visions of Faerie. Krab Jab Studio, 5628 Airport Way S., 715-8593, krabjabstudio.com. 1 p.m.-5 p.m. Wed.-Sat. Ends April 4.

JOSEPH GOLDBERG His current paintings focus on weather and abstracted landscapes. Greg Kucera Gallery, 212 Third Ave. S., 624-0770, gregkucera. com. 10:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Ends March 28.

CAROL GOUTHRO AND JIM KRAFT The two artists work in ceramics. Gallery I|M|A, 123 S. Jackson St., 625-0055, galleryima.com. 10:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Tues.Sat. Ends March. 28.

JOHN GRADE Middle Fork is a partial replica of a giant Western hemlock created with plaster molds and cedar chunks. MadArt, 325 Westlake Ave. N., 6231180, madartseattle.com. 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Wed.-Sat. Ends Apr. 25.

GROUP SHOW Three exhibits featuring autobiographical paintings and manipulated photography by gallery artists Sam Wolfe Connelly, Liz Brizzi, and Darla Teagarden. Roq La Rue, 532 First Ave S., 374-8977, roqlarue.com. Noon-5 p.m. Wed.-Sat. Ends March 28.

ANN HAMILTON The artist has created new commissioned art for the Henry that she invites viewers to interact with through touch—elements of the show can be ripped off the wall and kept for later. Henry Art Gallery (UW campus), 543-2280, henryart.org. $6-$10. 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Weds., Sat. & Sun. 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Thurs. & Sat. Ends April 26.

ROBERT HARDGRAVE On display in a one-off exhibit called To Be Determined is a 48-foot-long horizontal scroll that will fill the new gallery. Calypte Gallery,

-Richard Corliss, TIME MAGAZINE FROM PRODUCERS

1257122

Openings & Events

1107 E. Denny Way, 304-6782, calyptesings.tumblr. com. 5:30-9:30 p.m. Thurs., March 12.

HODGEPODGE Staff members at the school show their glass work and more. Pilchuck Glass School Seattle Exhibition Space, 240 Second Ave. S., 621-8422, pilchuck.com. Ends March 25.

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arts&culture» Film

KEITH BERNSTEIN/OPEN ROAD FILMS

Opening ThisWeek The Gunman

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Well, someone’s been hitting the gym. Since Liam Neeson announced his looming retirement from AARP action movies, Sean Penn and his bulging, hairless pecs are well prepared to work with Taken maestro Pierre Morel. Together they’ve updated a 1981 French novel to our present age of African strife: mercenaries and aid workers mixing in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, conflict minerals, covert assassinations, and—after an eight-year surfing safari from that dirty game—a U.S. congressional subpoena that pulls shirtless Jim Terrier (Penn) back in. You know the rest: Jim’s mad killing skills are wrenched back into service; the baddies nab the only woman he ever loved (no, not Madonna); and we hear weary professions of disgust at the whole sordid business (mercenary-dom, not movies). Though The Gunman does offer one genre twist: Jim’s a TBI concussion case, brainaddled almost to the point of Still Alice, who must write everything down in notebooks.

As ever, Penn is the grim, humorless professional, squinting out each line like a kidney stone.

What elevates The Gunman slightly above the median Taken are the supporting players. (Neeson never has any beyond Albanian Gangster 1, 2, and 3.) There’s a bit of pleasure in watching Javier Bardem, Ray Winstone, and Mark Rylance tick off scenes before their characters’ inevitable demise. I will bet you they had a backstage bet as to who could do the least amount of acting for the biggest paycheck. (Winstone wins; though Bardem is the most giggly fun, his performance wobbling like a teacup in a cracked saucer.)

Action doesn’t fully erupt until minute 60, and Morel is competent enough in that department. (The script, however, sounds like it was run through the beta version of Google Translate.)

Through London, Barcelona, and Gibraltar, Penn serviceably kills dozens of flak-jacketed rejects from the Bourne movies’ Operation Treadstone.

Here one must note that Matt Damon is leaving such muscular super-agent roles behind.

But Penn is a proudly fit-looking 54, his Milk

BRIAN MILLER

PAn Honest Liar RUNS FRI., MARCH 20–THURS., MARCH 26 AT NORTHWEST FILM FORUM. NOT RATED. 90 MINUTES.

OPENS FRI., MARCH 20 AT SIFF CINEMA EGYPTIAN AND LINCOLN SQUARE. RATED R. 100 MINUTES.

One measure of a good horror movie is not how often you jump when the monster bangs out from behind a door, but how often you find yourself nervously peering at dark corners of the screen. It takes only a few minutes of John Carpenter’s Halloween or Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Pulse to make you dread what might be lurking in every unlighted nook or out-of-focus background. It’s been a while since a movie made me feel that way, but David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows creates that kind of constant anxiety. Even the startling opening

Randi has outlasted most of his fellow performers.

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SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

OPENS FRI., MARCH 20 AT SUNDANCE AND OTHER THEATERS. RATED R. 115 MINUTES.

and Mystic River Oscars on the mantle and fellow Oscar winner Charlize Theron on his arm.

There’s no reason to begrudge him a simple money role, though The Gunman won’t make much coin. To sop Penn’s conscience, and Jim’s (“I did some bad things!”), there are many scenes of noble NGO workers helping cheerful Africans—which to the pure-action demo will feel like unwanted moral prodding. (Bro, isn’t it enough that I buy sustainably grown coffee beans?)

The Cialis-revenge genre isn’t built around such fine ethical sentiments. If Penn wants to do more of these movies, Jim and his g.f. need to adopt an adorable African orphan ASAP! Because there’s an evil gang of Albanian kidnappers Morel would like to introduce to them very soon.

PIt Follows

transformed himself into a full-time debunker of spiritualists, faith healers, and other charlatans. This documentary’s got a clever throughline about deception as regards Randi’s private life and his longtime partner, artist Jose Alvarez. But its main appeal is in demonstrating how skepticism and reason can be rewarding philosophies for passing through life. Randi seems to have taken great joy in exposing flimflam artists, but there’s a mission there, too, in showing how dangerous it is for individuals, and cultures, to cling to fraudulence. Directors Tyler Measom and Justin Weinstein concentrate on two of Randi’s favorite targets to illustrate his methods. One is Geller, the Israeli mentalist whose great heyday involved bending spoons “with his mind” and other feats of misdirection. We see a choice clip from The Tonight Show as Geller fails to execute an ESP gag—unbeknownst to him, Johnny Carson’s staff had earlier consulted with Randi to safeguard the set against Geller’s routine.

And then there’s Monroe as the the Reverend Peter girl in peril.

Popoff, whose shtick consisted of divining the names and addresses of his believers, thus priming them for the faith-healing part of his act. (He also encouraged followers to throw away their prescription medicine, making him a precursor of the anti-vaccination movement.)

Randi went public after an investigation (again Carson acts as the benign enabler of Randi’s work) to reveal how Popoff ’s wife was feeding him information through an earpiece. The RADIUS/TWC

Idris Elba (right) plays an uncertain ally to Penn’s woozy gunman.

For people of a certain age, these names may act as a time machine back to the 1970s: The Amazing Randi, Uri Geller, Peter Popoff. All come tumbling back to life in An Honest Liar, an unexpectedly fun (but sneakily forceful) portrait of a rationalist.

That’s not the way James Randi would have been described when he started out. He was a magician—the Amazing Randi, a modern Houdini with a slightly ’50s beatnik vibe—who

only shadow across the delightful film is that Geller and Popoff are thriving again, along with more current purveyors of magical thinking and science denial. This must be the cause of much forehead-smacking in Randi’s life, but he soldiers on against human nature’s need to believe. All this, and Randi’s puckish, bouncy bearing (he’s 86), make a nice argument that a life of skepticism need not translate into wetblanketry. ROBERT HORTON

shot—a 360-degree pan around a normal suburban street, no monsters in sight—instills the idea that something might be there, threatening, even if we can’t see it at the moment.

The premise itself is simple, if faintly absurd.

A teenager, Jay (Maika Monroe, excellent in The Guest), sleeps with her handsome new crush; he then informs her that she is now the target of a relentless, shape-shifting ghoul, which will pursue her to death. Her only escape is to have sex with someone else, who will then become the target. A few wrinkles provide extra horror: Nobody else can see the approaching monster, which could look like a normal person, even someone you know. Also, these things move slowly, and they never stop. A slow-moving monster is more chilling than it might sound, but then most of our demons—the psychological kind, anyway—are slow but steady.

Still a young filmmaker, the Michigan-bred Mitchell (this film and his previous The Myth of the American Sleepover were shot around Detroit) is already canny about using the camera to evoke mystery. Every time someone drifts into the background of a shot, we have to wonder: Is that just a random passerby, or is that, you know, “It”?

There’s also a wild musical score by Disasterpeace that provides an aggressive—at times maybe too aggressive—accompaniment to the film’s eerie mood. If the use of teen sex as a horror convention seems tired, rest assured that Mitchell seems less interested in a morality play than in sketching the in-between world of suburban adolescence—the way Jay and nerd-friend Paul (Keir Gilchrist) recall a childhood kiss, or the oddly sad presence of a portable swimming pool in the backyard. It’s also an inspired touch that although Jay’s friends share a warm, tribal bond, there are virtually no parents around (although a couple of instances of parental manifestation are horrifying). Parents have little place in the hothouse world of teenage melodrama—supernatural or otherwise. ROBERT HORTON

Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter

“I’m not so sure that a major career is a healthy thing to embark on,” says the 88-yearold Bernstein, who, despite acclaim, retired from public performance at age 50 thanks to stage fright and a disdain for the showbiz side of the classical-music world. The concertgoer’s loss was the aspiring pianist’s gain; from the onscreen evidence here, scenes with private pupils and master classes, he’s a fantastic teacher—able to convey, graciously and encouragingly, just how details of technique (tiny dynamic nuances, articulations, weighting and voicing chords) build emotional arcs.

All in all, Bernstein is terrific company—a captivating raconteur (wait until he starts talking about his time in the army in Korea, playing recitals for soldiers on the front) and a fount of aphorisms (“Every piano is like a person. They build them the same way; they never come out the same way”). There’s plenty of music, from Bach through Rachmaninoff, in generous chunks, and you have to admire Hawke’s patience (courage, even) just to stand back, point his camera, and let the man play. GAVIN BORCHERT E

OPENS FRI., MARCH 20 AT SIFF CINEMA UPTOWN. NOT RATED. 105 MINUTES.

The setup here might promise routine road comedy: A sad and lonely Japanese woman, who somehow believes the 1996 Coen brothers movie Fargo is a documentary, ventures from Japan to the frozen Midwest to find the cash Steve Buscemi buried in the featureless snow. So—a comic series of cultural misunderstandings ending with vindication for the determined Kumiko? Just the opposite, and indie filmmakers David and Nathan Zellner have no interest in obvious gags. Half their movie is scene-setting in Tokyo, where dejected Kumiko (Rinko Kikuchi) is considered an old maid (at 29) by her office mates. Her mother exists only as a nagging voice on the phone. Her only friend is a pet rabbit. And her Eleanor Rigbylike solitude is given purpose only by the magical discovery of a Fargo VHS tape that she obsessively studies, making notes and tracing diagrams, for what she hopes will be a triumphant adventure.

(Later we’ll have cause to doubt the origin of that tape and to question Kumiko’s grasp of reality.)

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A SING-ALONG, JOYFUL DOC. A must to see and listen to.”

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“Their story has taken decades to reach the screen.

IT HAS BEEN WORTH THE WAIT. An invaluable record of a kind of rock golden age.”

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Games

PSeymour: An Introduction OPENS FRI., MARCH 20 AT GUILD 45TH. RATED PG. 81 MINUTES.

Right from the first scene, in which pianist Seymour Bernstein talks his way through his thought process for fingering a passage in a Scarlatti sonata, it’s gratifyingly clear that Ethan Hawke’s documentary portrait isn’t going to be afraid to dig seriously into music. Hawke’s own search for artistic purpose (why acting?) led him to examine the life of the pianist, a casual acquaintance who became a role model for a life devoted to art, not to the trappings of art.

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Oscar-nominated for her bare-all performance in 2006’s Babel, Kikuchi turns her soul to lead for this role. Kumiko can barely make eye contact or sustain a conversation (she speaks limited English).

More than shyness or defeat, an ever-widening distance separates her from the world beyond her imagination. Kindly strangers, including a widowed Minnesota farm wife and a sympathetic cop (David Zellner), barely register. The lights go on only when Kumiko is planning her quest. Kikuchi gives her an Asperger’s-like focus and detachment, another reason this isn’t comedy. (Fargo had far more laughs and humanity—for better and worse.)

Unseen in Seattle, the Zellners’ prior two features, Kid-Thing and Goliath, also dealt with alienated loners. Kumiko can likewise be seen as a character study; though, like her supposed treasure, it’s not certain if that character actually exists. A stubborn obstinacy lies at Kumiko’s core, but also delusion (and possibly mental illness). With its careful widescreen framing and often-unsettling score (by The Octopus Project), Kumiko sometimes put me in mind of Kubrick. It’s a very composed and controlled picture, with a heroine who believes she’s on the cusp of something transformative, even cosmic. The ending achieves a kind of 2001-like apotheosis that leaves you wondering if Kumiko ever truly belonged on this planet. BRIAN MILLER

SEAN PORTER/AMPLIFY RELEASING

Kikuchi’s Fargo fan is led astray.

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’em like this anymore. Jack Nicholson kept the slow, existential 1975 thriller The Passenger off the U.S. market for decades. Among those who aren’t so keen on the pacing of Blow-Up or L’Avventura, The Passenger won’t earn Antonioni any new fans. Nicholson expertly plays a reporter, failed in career and marriage, who makes a fresh start by assuming the identity of a dead man. We follow him from North Africa through various European cities, as do his wife and some ominous agents of an African dictatorship. He picks up a girl (Maria Schneider, best left to the ’70s) who tells Nicholson this new identity gives him a purpose, some political meaning: “That’s what you wanted.” But such beliefs are dangerous for the formerly indifferent reporter. It’s like The Bourne Identity played at half speed—deliberate, but never dull. (NR) BRIAN MILLER Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 267-5380, nwfilmforum.org. $8–$12 individual, $35–$54 series.

7:30 p.m. Tuesdays through March 24.

CINEMA ITALIAN STYLE Paolo Sorrentino’s Oscarwinning The Great Beauty, an account of an aging playboy journalist in Rome, casts its eye back to La Dolce Vita (also about a playboy journalist in Rome).

Yet this movie looks even further back, from the capsized Costa Concordia to the ruins and reproachful marble statues of antiquity. “I feel old,” says Jep (the sublime Toni Servillo) soon after the debauch of his 65th birthday party. He’s been coasting on the success of his first and only novel, 40 years prior, content with his goal to be king of Rome’s high life. Jep is a dandy with thinning hair brushed back and a girdle beneath his silk shirt. False appearances are all that count, but it takes intelligence to deceive. Disgust—and then perhaps self-disgust—begins to color his perception of a Botox party, the food obsessions of a prominent cardinal, the splatter-art demonstration of a child artist, and the whole “debauched country.” Servillo’s wry glances are both mocking and wincing, appropriate for a movie that’s simultaneously bursting with life and regret.

(NR) B.R.M. Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 654-3121, seattleartmuseum.org. $63–$68 series, $8 individual. 7:30 p.m. Thursdays through March 19.

GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES Shot-forsalivating-shot, this boasts the highest “wow” quotient of anything in the formidably ecstatic Marilyn Monroe oeuvre. The 1953 movie, directed by Howard Hawks, opens with an edible MM and full-figured gal pal Jane Russell bursting onto the screen in skin-tight, feather-hatted, red-sequined regalia like a couple of carnivorous cake toppings. It eventually ogles its way through not only the now legendary “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Friend” routine but an audacious “Ain’t There Anyone Here for Love” number, where Russell offers to take on the entire U.S. Men’s Olympic Team. (G) STEVE WIECKING Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 686-6684, central-cinema.com. $7-$9. 7 p.m. Fri. & Sun.-Tues. plus 3 p.m. Sat.-Sun. matinees GROWING UP BAUMBACH On Wednesday the 18th we have Noah Baumbach’s 1995 fairly witty campus comedy Kicking and Screaming, which made good use of Eric Stoltz, Chris Eigeman, and Josh Hamilton.

Following on the 25th is 2013’s Frances Ha, about which our Robert Horton wrote, “Co-written by and starring Greta Gerwig, Frances Ha is Noah Baumbach’s unabashed 2013 tribute to her distinctive (don’t you dare say “quirky”) charms. The outline of a typical indie picture is in place, as we follow 27-year-old Frances and her New York apartment-hopping over the course of a few months. Frances dreams of being a dancer, as though nobody’d told her that if you haven’t made it as a dancer by 27, your dream should probably be in the past tense. The appeal of Frances Ha comes from Gerwig’s pluck and the film’s sprightly sense of play.” (R) SIFF Film Center (Seattle Center), 324-9996, siff.net. $5. 7 p.m. Wednesdays through April 1.

SEATTLE JEWISH FILM FESTIVAL The fest continues with fun documentary profiles of composer Marvin Hamlisch and comic performer Sophie Tucker. Above and Beyond relates how the Israeli Air Force was created in 1948 by a few WWII vets flying Germandesigned fighters and wearing secondhand Luftwaffe uniforms(NR) Pacific Place, SIFF Cinema Uptown, and Stroum Jewish Community Center (Mercer Island). $5–$18. Tickets & info: 324-9996, seattlejewishfilmfestival.org. Ends Sun., March 22.

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» Music

In Defense of Rick Springfield

The ’80s pop god is known for his good looks, but his songwriting chops deserve equal billing.

BY DAVE LAKE

R

COURTESY OF THE ARTIST

2013. “But I think to a lot of my original army of fans, it was a little heavy for them, and a little bit too much of a left-hand turn.”

Oz spawned a pair of hits, “Human Touch” and “Affair of the Heart,” but the whole album is classic Springfield. The reggae-tinged “Alyson” is a worthy runner-up to Elvis Costello’s “Alison” as the best song about a girl of that name. The title track is a driving rocker that could accompany the third-act training montage of any inspirational ’80s film. And “Me and Johnny” tells a tale of old friends whose lives take divergent paths. “I was a man writing about women and his failings as a man,” Springfield said of the album’s more personal themes, “and his dreams as a man and regrets and all that.”

Save for a brief period in the ’90s, Springfield has never stopped releasing effective albums. Now 65 (but looking 15 years younger), Springfield’s career has experienced a renaissance, with stints on General Hospital and Californication; a bestselling memoir (Late, Late at Night) and novel (Mysterious Vibration); and a documentary. He also appeared in Dave Grohl’s Sound City documentary about the legendary L.A. studio, and will appear this summer in season 2 of True Detective and opposite Meryl Streep in Ricki and the Flash.

To top it off, he was acquitted at his recent “butt injury” trial, in which a fan claims his rear knocked her over and injured her during a Florida concert.

While his later albums haven’t sold in the millions, his songwriting chops remain. The Los Angeles Times described 2008’s Venus in Overdrive as “taut and tuneful,” and it’s easy to mistake many of the songs for Ryan Adams or Foo Fighters tunes.

Perhaps if he’d been worse-looking, hadn’t pursued acting, or didn’t have a name that was almost Bruce Springsteen, things would have turned out differently for Springfield. But he’s certainly not all that bothered at this point. “There’s always been the thought that I’m a one-dimension pop guy,” he told Newsday last month. “But I’m actually a three-dimensional pop dweeb.” E

music@seattleweekly.com

RICK SPRINGFIELD The Neptune, 1303 N.E. 45th St., 682-1414, stgpresents.org/neptune. $50. 8 p.m. Wed., March 18.

NEXT WEEK! MARCH 25 |

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

ick Springfield, the pretty-boy rocker-cum-soap star, is a criminally underrated songwriter, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I don’t just wish I had Jessie’s girl, as his 1981 chart-topper has it; as a musician myself, I really wish I’d written it—and about a dozen of his others, too.

I may not be a 40-something housewife like the bulk of his fan base (if the 2012 documentary about him, Affair of the Heart, is to be believed), but I’ve been a fan since, as a kid, I first heard the opening chords of “Jessie’s Girl,” which also doesn’t get enough credit for being one of that decade’s great rock riffs.

“Jessie’s Girl” was Springfield’s first #1 song, though he’d had minor hits before it, both in America and his native Australia, beginning in the early ’70s. But from early on in his career, Springfield was saddled with not being taken seriously. In the late ’60s he played in a band called Zoot—which, dressed head to toe in pink satin, found favor with teenage girls but was ridiculed by the music press.

With Working Class Dog, the album that spawned “Jessie’s Girl,” things began to take off for Springfield: The song hit #1, the album cracked the top 10, and he won a Grammy. Though it’s not often given credit as such, the album remains one of the decade’s finest power-pop offerings—a sublime blend of arena-rock guitars and giant pop hooks, from the hard-rocking opener “Love Is Alright Tonite” to “Inside Silvia,” a blue-eyed-soul ballad that would have been at home on any Hall & Oates album of the era. In those days, the Cars got the glory, but Springfield got the chicks.

Dog sold three million copies, but it was partially overshadowed by Springfield’s burgeoning acting career, which found him in a major role on a major daytime soap. “I think [music videos] helped get a song out to more people,” Springfield told PopMatters, “but probably General Hospital had more to do with me getting known physically than MTV did.”

Unlike Justin Timberlake and other musicians who found critical acclaim on both screen and album, Springfield’s choice of roles didn’t exactly bolster his artistic cred. Though several Oscar winners worked on soaps before getting famous, Springfield followed his GH stint with the film Hard to Hold, a 1984 bomb about a pop idol who has a way with women. It was for that starring vehicle that he turned down a part in the ensemble film The Right Stuff, which went on to win four Academy Awards.

But make no mistake: Springfield does have the right stuff. 1982’s Success Hasn’t Spoiled Me Yet was a logical successor to Working Class Dog, and gave way to 1983’s Living in Oz, which remains Springfield’s best album. Not only are pop hooks on full display, but the album is also deeply personal. Not coincidentally, it was released just as the star was departing General Hospital, and it signaled a sea change of sorts. “I know a lot of people got it,” he told The Onion’s “A.V. Club” in

25

GRAMATIK

4/24

RICHARD CHEESE & LOUNGE AGAINST THE MACHINE

ECHOSMITH with THE COLOURIST

3/21

9PM

SHPONGLE 3/22

with PHUTUREPRIMITIVE

9PM

DAN+SHAY

9PM

4/30

with “IPOD ON A CHAIR”

9PM

TWO SHOWS!

PASSION PIT 5/19 & 20

with HOLYCHILD

8PM

THE DARK STAR WATERBOYS

3/28

4/1

with CANAAN SMITH

8PM

ORCHESTRA

9PM

BLUE OCTOBER with HARVARD OF THE SOUTH

+ ASHLEIGH STONE

4/17

JJ GREY + MOFRO

9PM

RAEKWON & GHOSTFACE KILLAH

4/15– ON SALE FRI AT NOON

8:30 PM

5/21

7:30 PM

5/28

with ETHAN TUCKER BAND

8PM

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6/10

TERROR + SOUVENIRS

7:30 PM

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

3/31

26

with METRO BOOMIN (DJ SET)

8PM

8:30 PM

7/1

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with TACO

9PM

JIM JEFFRIES

8PM

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with Dillon Cooper, Blackbear, KR, Karizma, DJ Gnash Doors at 7:00PM / Show at 8:00 ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $15 ADV / $18 DOS

FRIDAY MARCH 20TH MIKE THRASHER PRESENTS:

MOORE THEATRE

DIRT UNDERNEATH TOUR

DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS 4/28

5/29

8PM

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WHERE MY BONES REST EASY

MOD SUN

TYLER, THE CREATOR

TECH N9NE

MOORE THEATRE

MIKE THRASHER PRESENTS:

with ART OF DYING

SHOWBOX AND KNITTING FACTORY PRESENT

with KRIZZ KALIKO + CHRIS WEBBY + MURS + KING 810 + ZUSE + NEEMA 4/24

THURSDAY MARCH 19TH

APOCALYPTICA

YOUNG THUG + TRAVI$ SCOTT

www.elcorazonseattle.com

109 Eastlake Ave East • Seattle, WA 98109 Booking and Info: 206.262.0482

SHOWBOX SODO RODEOTOUR

El Corazon THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA with Born Of Osiris, The Word Alive, Secrets Doors at 6:00PM / Show at 7:00 ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $21 ADV / $24 DOS

SATURDAY MARCH 21ST

AMERICAN PINUP

with Furniture Girls, Moments, Oranges From The President, Plus Guests Lounge Show.

Doors at 8:00PM / Show at 8:30 21+. $8 ADV / $10 DOS

with The Fames, Merit, Divided Heaven, Terrible Light Lounge Show.

Doors at 7:00PM / Show at 7:30 ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $8 ADV / $10 DOS

MONDAY MARCH 23RD

KAUSTIK

with Problem With Dragons, Rhine, Hundred Loud, Abnercash Lounge Show.

Doors at 7:00PM / Show at 7:30 ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $8 ADV / $10 DOS

WEDNESDAY MARCH 25TH DJ POLLO, PODER MUSICAL & EL CORAZON PRESENT:

JARABE DE PALO

with Falling Doves, Revolver, Africa Violeta, DJ Pollo Doors at 7:00PM / Show at 8:00 21+. $20 ADV / $25 DOS

SUNDAY MARCH 22ND

THURSDAY MARCH 26TH

BRIEF LIVES

STEVE TAYLOR & THE PERFECT FOIL with Danielson &

FEATURING VALIENT HIMSELF FROM VALIENT THORR

with Millhous, The STUNTMEN, Greenriver Thrillers, Killer Shades Doors at 7:30PM / Show at 8:30 21+. $8 ADV / $10 DOS

The Nine-Fruit Tree, Hello Nowhere Lounge Show. Doors at 7:30PM / Show at 8:00 ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $12 ADV / $15 DOS

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arts&culture» Music

TheWeekAhead

Wednesday, March 18 Friday, March 20

Thursday, March 19

“Let your body go/Let the music flow through your soul,” Tazlyn Gue sings on “You’re Fabulous,” the opening track of THE FABULOUS PARTY BOYS’ self-titled album. It’s sage advice, as even the most headstrong wallflowers aren’t able to stop themselves from grooving when this seven-piece takes the stage. Its blend of funk, soul, and a bit of jazz is downright infectious, and it’s no surprise the band’s recent record-release show sold out. P.S.: Be sure to wear your most spectacular dancing outfit to this show, A Fabulous Electro Swing Affair, as it’s being filmed by the folks from Speakeasy Electro Swing. With Good Co., DJ Mano Meter. Columbia City Theater, 4918 Rainier Ave. S., 723-0088, columbiacity theater.com. 8:30 p.m. $10 adv./$12 DOS. 21 and over.

in This Bring T And ge n o Coup er iz T e p p one A 2 oFF! For 1/

Hooray for the Riff Raff No idea was too absurd for New Jersey punk-rock quartet THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM when it entered the studio to work on its fifth full-length, Get Hurt, which explains the record’s impressive variety. The album kicks off with the unexpectedly ferocious “Stay Vicious,” which finds the band nearing metal territory, while the somber “Break Your Heart” is a borderlinecountry tune. And there’s a classic-rock edge to lead singer Brian Fallon’s rasp on “Stray Paper,” to which guest vocalist Sharon Jones (who fronts the DapKings) adds a touch of soul. The band hasn’t strayed far from its roots, though; plenty of tunes throwback to its 2008 breakthrough, The ’59 Sound. With Northcote, Sammy Kay. The Showbox, 1426 First Ave., 628-3151, showboxpresents.com. 9 p.m. $25. All ages.

All’s been quiet on the PICKWICK front as of late. The band’s last Facebook post publicizes a sale on music and merch from November, and the most recent news entry on its website touts the April 2014 release of Window Sill (Recall) 7”, which features “Window Sill” and an alternate version of “Halls of Columbia,” both from the Seattle six-piece’s 2013 debut album Can’t Talk Medicine. No doubt fans are still spinning Medicine; it’s a mix of garage-rock edge and smooth R&B, a majority of which comes from singer Galen Disston. This is the only show Pickwick has booked so far this year. Could the band be trying out some new material? With Bardo, DJ Leopold Bloom. Sunset Tavern, 5433 Ballard Ave. N.W., 784-4880, sunset tavern.com. 9 p.m. SOLD OUT. 21 and over.

Saturday, March 21

UMPHREY’S MCGEE’s upcoming release, The London

Session, is the result of a spur-of-the-moment decision to fulfill a dream to record at the world-famous Abbey Road’s Studio 2. With just 12 hours in the studio, the jamrock six-piece recorded a mix of old and new tunes. The first six, which include acoustic takes on “No Diablo” and “Cut the Cable” from UM’s latest, Similar Skin, were recorded a handful of times to “ensure there was a keeper,” while the final four, which include a cover of the Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy),” were cut in one take. It’s a fun project from a band who knows how to make the most of its time. With the Revivalists. The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., 877-784-4849, stgpresents.org/ moore. 7 p.m. $25 adv./$27.50 DOS. All ages.

Whether or not the song is about her own nomadic experiences, alt-country singer ANDREA PETERMAN captures wanderlusts everywhere in “Gypsy” off her sophomore album, Faster Than the Days: “She can’t settle down/She’s got the road in her veins and a fire in her bones/She’s a wanderer.” And Peterman knows a thing or two about wandering. She was born in

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 28

tractor TIMES

DOORS 30-60 MIN. BEFORE. OPEN

LISTED ARE

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MAYORS CASEY RUFF & THE OF BALLARD

DISMAL TIDE, THE WESTERN RED PENGUINS, 8PM - $2 THE KINGS SAT,

MARCH 20th 

LIVE 80’S MUSIC

REWIND (100TH SHOW )

9PM - $15

DJ INDICA JONES SUN,

MARCH 21st 

DESCHUTES BREWERY PRESENTS

THE RAMBLIN’ YEARS (ALBUM RELEASE) LONELY MOUNTAIN LOVERS, ANDREA PETERMAN 9PM - $10 TUES,

MARCH 24th 

SF ROCK & SOUL

THE SOFT WHITE SIXTIES THE LOWER 48 SAT,

8PM - $10

MARCH 28

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Up & Coming 3/22 THE RIVER ARKANSAS 3/23 SQUARE DANCE W/ THE TALLBOYS 3/25 DO206 SHOWCASE W/ THEORETICS 3/26 THUNDERPUSSY 3/27 POLYRHYTHMICS 3/31 THE FUTUREBIRDS 4/1 WHITEHORSE 4/2 CHARLIE PARR 4/3 KEXP PRESENTS BRONCHO 4/4 THE PREATURES 5213 BALLARD AVE. NW  789-3599

www.tractortavern.com

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

After nearly 10 years of doing things on his own, ambient musician Scott Hansen, who performs as TYCHO, had an epiphany of sorts. Prepping for a tour in support of his third album, Dive, Hansen decided to take a full band on the road with him. Liking what he heard and the energy he felt, he filled out the lineup permanently.

The band, with guitarist/bassist Zac Brown and drummer Rory O’Connor, made its recording debut on Tycho’s fourth record, Awake. Though some tunes, like “Dye” and “Plains,” are reminiscent of Hansen’s solo work, songs like the title track and “Apogee” reveal Tycho’s new, fuller sound. With Shigeto. Showbox SoDo, 1700 First Ave. S., 652-0444, showboxpresents.com. 8 p.m. $25 adv./$28 DOS. All ages.

REUBEN WU

Tycho

Country/blues musician Alynda Lee Segarra, who performs as HURRAY FOR THE RIFF RAFF, left home at 17 and began traveling the country, eventually settling in New Orleans, where she joined a group of fellow travelers and started playing music on the street. But just one year later, Hurricane Katrina hit. Rather than head somewhere new, Segarra decided to stick it out to thank the community that inspired her to pursue music full-time.

The influences of her adopted hometown are evident on Segarra’s latest release, Small Town Heroes, as she sings about local issues like neighborhood violence (on “St. Roch Blues”) and adds a vibrant, modern kick to her era-transcending sound on “No One Else.” With Adia Victoria. The Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave., 441-4618, thecrocodile.com. 8 p.m. $20. All ages.

SARRAH DANZIGER

Whether bringing life to other people’s words as an actress or her own through any of her three albums, most recently Bound for the Deep, jazz/blues musician TAE PHOENIX is a natural-born storyteller.

Her resume is full of lead roles in plays like “Les Misérables,” “The Turn of the Screw,” and the upcoming “Into the Woods,” and her onstage experience translates into her music as palpable emotional expression. Phoenix has the polish of an accomplished actress and the authentic edge of a seasoned blues musician, which should become apparent as soon as she takes the stage at this show, part of Tbasa’s Lo-Fi All Stars series. With Tobias the Owl, Science. The Benbow Room, 4210 S.W. Admiral Way, Suite A, 4661953, benbowroom.com. 8:30 p.m. Free. All ages.

Recording its fourth album, Transfixiation, Brooklyn noiserock trio A PLACE TO BURY STRANGERS had one plan: There is no plan. Known for its chaotic live shows, the group wanted the record to feel the same way. Album-closer “I Will Die,” for example, features a layer of fuzz so thick that it nearly masks singer/guitarist Oliver Ackermann’s vocals. At times it seems as though the entire album could come crashing down at any second, but the trio—Ackermann, drummer Robi Gonzalez (making his APTBS recording debut on Transfixiation), and bassist Dion Lunadon—manages to hold it together, albeit with a few intentionally unintentional audio bumps and bruises along the way. With Nightmare Fortress, Grave Babies. The Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave., 4414618, thecrocodile.com. 8 p.m. $13. All ages.

On his website, rapper Keith Thornton, aka KOOL KEITH, lists upward of 50 aliases he’s used in his career, which began after he formed Ultramagnetic MCs in 1984.

Some were used for a single song; some are characters from music videos; and others, like the Jupiter-born Dr. Octagon, grew to have a life of their own. Octagon made his debut on Dr. Octagonecologyst, but was then killed by another alter ego, Dr. Dooom, on First Come, First Served.

Octagon was revived on The Return of Dr. Octagon, only to be killed a second time by Dooom. Thornton goes by Kool Keith on his latest, Demolition Crash, but you never know which personae may crash his live show. With The Gift of Gab; Graves 33; Khingz ft. the X Presidents, Uce Wayne, and Massiah; DJ Indica Jones. Nectar Lounge, 412 N. 36th St., 632-2020. 8 p.m. $17 adv./$22 DOS. 21 and over.

27

arts&culture» Music » FROM PAGE 27

NEXT WEEK!

Minnesota, grew up in the Midwest and Montana, and graduated from Northwestern on a scholarship before making a name for herself in New York’s theater scene.

She then moved to Los Angeles, where she released her first album, Miles to Go. Now based in Seattle, Peterman is charming locals with her polished pipes. With the Ramblin’ Years, Lonely Mountain Lovers. Tractor Tavern, 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., 789-3599. 9 p.m. $10. 21 and over.

Monday, March 23

Multi-hyphenate KRISTIN HERSH likes to keep busy.

She founded alt-rock band Throwing Muses with her stepsister Tanya Donelly (the Breeders, Belly) when both were in high school, and has performed with the band since its 2003 reformation. She also began a mostly acoustic solo career in 1994 with eight releases to date, most recently Crooked. Plus, she founded punk trio 50 Foot Wave in 2003. But that’s not all. Hersh is also the author of a children’s book (Toby Snax) and a memoir (Rat Girl), and she added “nonprofit founder” to her resume in 2008 with CASH Music. Luckily for fans, her creative wellspring seems nowhere near close to running dry. Triple Door, 216 Union St., 838-4333, thetripledoor.net. 7:30 p.m. $15 adv./$18 DOS. All ages.

Anacortes-based singer KARL BLAU’s latest release, Maherican Dream, came together after an “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine” agreement with Olympia folk-pop band LAKE, in which Blau agreed to produce a LAKE record (Circular Doorway) if the quartet backed him on his. In Olympia, Blau and LAKE improvised, using a variety of sounds to create an eclectic mix of instrumental tracks. Blau then wrote lyrics for each (except “7 Sisters,” “Big Kalimba Blues,” and “When the Trees Take to Dancing”) based on what each track made him feel. Some tunes lean toward folk while others head down an ambient route, perfectly combining Blau’s and LAKE’s go-to sounds.

With Little Wings, With Child. Vera Project, 305 Warren Ave. N., 956-8372. 7:30 p.m. $8 adv./$10 DOS. All ages.

Join us in the Trophy Room for Happy Hour: Thursday Bartender Special 8-Close Fridays: 5-8pm RESERVE THE TROPHY ROOM FOR YOUR NEXT EVENT!

COCKTAILS • TASTY HOT DOGS • LOTSA PINBALL

2222 2ND AVENUE • SEATTLE

206-441-5449

Tuesday, March 24

Ok Go

JAZZ ALLEY IS A SUPPER CLUB

DANA FUCHS WED, MAR 18

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

Dana Fuchs is a phenomenon, a singer whose mesmerizing voice and presence has led critics to compare her to Rock legends from Janis to Jagger.

28

DAVID SANBORN THURS, MAR 19 - SUN, MAR 22

Multi-Grammy winning saxman supreme blending instrumental pop, R&B and traditional jazz!

WAYNE KRANTZ GROUP featuring JAMES GENUS AND CLIFF ALMOND TUES, MAR 24 - WED, MAR 25 A world-renowned guitar improviser who consistently pushes his stylistic roots in rock, jazz, fusion and blues beyond their boundaries.

GREAT GUITARS with BUCKY PIZZARELLI, JOHN PISANO & MUNDELL LOWE

THURS, MAR 26 - SUN, MAR 29

Three defining figures of acoustic jazz guitar together for the first time in history!

BEYOND EBOLA BENEFIT featuring MESSAGE FROM GUINEA MON, MAR 30

Fundraising efforts in partnership with Seattlebased Guinea Arts Cooperative!

all ages | free parking | full schedule at jazzalley.com

MAKOTO KUBOTA

2033 6th Avenue (206) 441-9729 jazzalley.com

More often than not, Chicago-born, L.A.-based OK GO’s increasingly creative music videos overshadow the music in them—which is unfortunate, because from one release to the next, the band seems keen on flipping musical expectations on their head while still keeping its alt-rock base intact. The quartet’s latest, Hungry Ghosts, for instance, is just as diverse as its predecessors, but on Ghosts, the band experiments with electronic elements that seem both otherworldly (“Another Set of Issues”) and straight from the ’80s (“Obsession,” “I Won’t Let You Down”). It’s not surprising to hear so much innovation from OK Go, but it is impressive how many tricks the band still has up its sleeve. With White Arrows. The Neptune, 1303 N.E. 45th St., 682-1414, stg presents.org/neptune. 8 p.m. $22 adv./$25 DOS. All ages.

Before True North, the latest from California punk-rockers BAD RELIGION, begins to play, song titles give away the issues with which the band has a bone to pick: “Robin Hood in Reverse,” “Land of Endless Greed,” “Dharma and the Bomb,” “Dept. of False Hope,” and what is perhaps the most appropriately titled Bad Religion tune of all, “Fuck You.” The sixpiece is known the world over for its musical bursts of social commentary, and True North only adds to that claim to fame. The drums are thundering, the guitar riffs fast, and lead singer Greg Graffin is just as eager to vent. With each album Bad Religion releases, a new group of discontented youths find their voice. With OFF! Showbox SoDo, 1700 First Ave. S., 652-0444, showboxpresents.com. 8 p.m. $30 adv./$35 DOS. All ages.

BY AZARIA C. PODPLESKY

Send events to music@seattleweekly.com.

See seattleweekly.com for more listings.

LocaLReLeases

Wind Burial’s new LP We Used to Be Hunters

T

he funeral rites of Tibetan sky burial are pretty metal at first glance. The ancient tradition begins with a monk lighting incense and chanting ritual mantras around the corpse. Then come the rogyapas, or “body-breakers,” who do exactly what you would imagine them to with a title like that. These rogyapas are encouraged by Buddhist teaching to cheerily laugh and chat among themselves during the process of disassembling the corpse. The levity is thought to ease a soul’s transition to the next plane while the flesh and bone that previously housed that soul is ground with rocks into a filmy pulp. Finally the body is placed on a mountaintop, where vultures are ushered in to consume the remains. It may sound pretty brütal, but the practice illustrates some beautiful, visceral metaphors for one of the three basic tenets of existence in Buddhism: anicca, or “impermanence and change.” The body is only a vessel, after all, so when it’s emptied of its soul, you might as well put it to use by feeding it to the living instead of sticking it in a box or turning it into ashes.

It’s probably no coincidence that the cover of Seattle psych outfit Wind Burial’s self-released debut LP, We Used to Be Hunters (out now, windburial.bandcamp.com), is adorned with a giant wheel cascading inward on itself—a visual representation of the world’s underlying cyclical nature, just like the ritual the band’s name nods to. “Heaven’s what you give away/The land’s on fire/She gave and gave/We all return/One by one,” lead singer Kat Terran muses on “Crown of Bones,” an album standout that crescendos into a hooky, exuberant cry of “One by onnnne!” Like the rogyapas, the song handles death with levity—turning what might otherwise be a dark occasion into a spiritual celebration.

Terran, a scholar of the shamanic traditions of ancient cultures from around the world, weaves her education into We Used to Be Hunters, an expansive record that sounds like it was summoned down from a gusty mountain peak. Full of shimmering 12-string guitar and sweeping, galloping rhythms, it exists somewhere between the lush witchiness of Siouxsie and the Banshees and the dramatic, verdant landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. That earthiness is probably due in part to Nich Wilbur, the Anacortes mainstay and Mount Eerie alumnus who recorded Hunters in The Unknown, an old wooden church in the middle of that nautical northern town.

“We used the church as an instrument, capturing the open acoustics of the building as we performed together in the space,” Terran says. If the church was an instrument, it plays the lead part in the record’s longer tunes, lending a distinct ghostly timbre to the eponymous track’s sun-bleached sonic journey, as well as to the baroque tempest of “Kissing the Curves of the Earth.” “Flying!” Terran exclaims in the latter, “I’m flying above/Love, land below/ Kissing the curves of the Earth as I go.” If you’ve ever felt awe on a hike, strangely drawn toward the ancient or attuned to something you might consider “magic,” you are going to love this record. E

ksears@seattleweekly.com

odds&ends» The Stusser Omnibus Marijuana Bill

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ast week, three U.S. senators introduced a bill that attempts to amend many of the outdated medical-marijuana conundrums at the federal level.The bill would end the prohibition of medical marijuana, reclassify the plant from its cur-

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Rec stores must stock medicinal products.

Most of the individuals working to bring cannabis out of the shadows and into the legal mainstream were from the medical community—and riskily toiling long before the greedy Green Rush Potrepreneurs got in line for a Weed Lotto Ticket to make marijuana moolah.

The least these green-lit licensees can do is stock their shelves with a small percentage of medicinal items in their inventory.

No pot, no pay. Cities and counties that ban marijuana outlets—either recreational or medical—will get absolutely no tax revenue from sales of marijuana. Period. In addition, as they are restricting both the will of the people and access for medical patients who may not be able to drive to places that do allow marijuana sales, these cities must build a FastTrack Elevated Electric Train system for their residents to travel from their homes to the nearest marijuana-friendly city.

Let’s get loungey! Pot lounges and cafes where adults can smoke marijuana are a safe and social way for folks to get fired up. Hell, even the Seattle City Attorney likes the idea.

Allow for cigar lounges and smoky pool halls too! You don’t like ’em? Don’t patronize ’em!

We’re not looking to be Amsterdam with a cannabis cafe on every corner—though if Howard Schultz wants to get into the franchise game, Starbuds is a damn fine name. Probably shouldn’t allow alcohol in cannabis clubs however; people get crazy on that shit. E For more Higher Ground, visit highergroundtv.com.

SEATTLE WEEKLY • MARCH 18 — 24, 2015

rent designation as a Schedule 1 narcotic (a status that suggests no medical value and high potential for abuse), and allow for more cannabis study and research.

While the bipartisan bill doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of passing, it’s a great conversation starter.

Inspired by those ballsy senators—and in fear of the awful Senate Bill 5052 that is currently wending its way through Olympia—I’ve decided to take my own shot at solving Washington state’s own clusterfuck. So without further ado, I present the framework of my own Omnibus Marijuana Bill.

Let my people grow! I mean, really. Every other state that’s legalized marijuana has allowed citizens to grow for personal use, and we should too. It’s a no-brainer. Put a limit on the number of plants per person (six per adult, perhaps, or higher if used for medicinal purposes), and, like tomatoes and snap peas, allow folks to play in the garden.

(Probably not a great plant for community pea patches, but fab for collective gardens for medical patients, many of whom are too sick to tend to the crop themselves.)

Regulate medical dispensaries. The state estimates that there are more than 1,000 dispensaries, operating all willy-nilly. While many are clearly fly-by-night operations that don’t check ID, a good number have been instrumental for decades in helping the medical community find strains and products and oils that help patients. So it just makes sense that any longstanding, established dispensary should be allowed to continue operating. Hell, I’ll pick a random number that can be allowed: 420.

No medical registry. The bill from Republican Sen. Ann Rivers that the state Senate just passed calls for the creation of a statewide registry for medical patients. Puh-lease. Patients don’t fear putting their names on the dotted line because they’re faking their illnesses to get cheaper weed, but because admitting to a felony at the federal level is a pretty bad idea. Patients can lose their jobs and have their children taken for this kind of admission. No registry.

Whack the taxes. Right now there’s a tripledecker tax structure in place: Recreational weed is hit with a 25 percent tax when it moves from farmer to processor, then again from processor to retailer, and again to the end customer. Pretty much everyone agrees a single tax is the best idea here—so pick a single sin-tax percentage and go with it. Too high, though, and I’m staying with my dealer.

Any patient with a qualified doctor who recommends (not prescribes) marijuana to alleviate suffering for terminal or debilitating conditions such as cancer, epilepsy, PTSD, and chronic pain should be allowed to purchase it tax-free at licensed medical dispensaries, just as citizens across the country (except Illinois) can receive their tax-free prescriptions for Ambien, Valium, Prozac, and whatever that purple pill is.

Free hemp now. My Omnibus Marijuana Bill is so comprehensive that I plan to roll hemp legislation into it, thus killing two buzzed birds with one stone: Legalize hemp for farming, commerce, and production, and just ignore the absurd bans on industrial hemp. Don’t be silly; the fibrous stuff doesn’t even get ya high.

CASHIN

BY MICHAEL A. STUSSER

Medical cards.

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