Seattle Weekly, July 23, 2014

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JULY 23-29, 2014 I VOLUME 39 I NUMBER 30

SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM I FREE

FREEDOM SUMMER REVISITED PAGE 8 DELICIOUS BISCUITS! PAGE 19 RICHARD LINKLATER ON BOYHOOD PAGE 28

ONE OF THE LAST OF THE BABY BOOMERS TO HIT A HALF-CENTURY,

MICHAEL A. STUSSER

CONTEMPLATES THE FINANCIAL, SPIRITUAL, AND ROMANTIC CONSEQUENCES OF GETTING “OLD.” PAGE 11


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SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014


inside»   July 23–29, 2014 VOLUME 39 | NUMBER 30

» SEATTLEWEEKLY.COM

»19

news&comment 5

TAXI REFORM

BY VERNAL COLEMAN | New ride-

share regulations leave cabbies steaming. Plus: A Seattle attorney carries on the legacy of the Freedom Summer.

11 AGING DISGRACEFULLY

»35 Editor-in-Chief Mark Baumgarten EDITORIAL Senior Editor Nina Shapiro Food Editor Nicole Sprinkle Arts Editor Brian Miller Entertainment Editor Gwendolyn Elliott Editorial Operations Manager Gavin Borchert

BY MICHAEL STUSSER | Rueful

Staff Writers Ellis E. Conklin, Matt Driscoll, Kelton Sears

reflections on seeing a half-century on the horizon.

Editorial Interns Terrence Hill, Reut Odinak

food&drink

19 BEYOND PB&J

BY NICOLE SPRINKLE | Apple melts,

smoked-beet purée, and more at Ballard’s newest sandwich spot. 19 | FOOD NEWS/THE WEEKLY DISH 22 | THE BAR CODE

arts&culture 23 FATHER & SON AT THE FRYE

BY BRIAN MILLER | One local family

spans two separate shows. 23 | THE PICK LIST 25 | PERFORMANCE/EAR SUPPLY 27 | VISUAL ARTS & BOOKS

28 FILM

BY BRIAN MILLER | Director Richard

34 | FILM CALENDAR

35 MUSIC

BY DAVE LAKE | Andrew Jackson Jihad

has worked hard to escape Phoenix. 36 | THE WEEK AHEAD 38 | CD REVIEWS

odds&ends 39 | CLASSIFIEDS

»cover credit PHOTO OF MICHAEL A. STUSSER BY ANNA ERICKSON

PRODUCTION Production Manager Sharon Adjiri Art Director Samantha Wagner Graphic Designers Jennifer Lesinski, Brennan Moring Staff Photographer/Web Developer Morgen Schuler Photo Interns Anna Erickson ADVERTISING Marketing Jen Larson, Zsanelle Edelman Advertising Sales Manager, Arts Carol Cummins Senior Account Executive Krickette Wozniak Account Executives Cecilia Corsano-Leopizzi, Erin McCutcheon, Peter Muller Classifieds Account Executive Matt Silvie DISTRIBUTION Distribution Manager Jay Kraus OPERATIONS Administrative Coordinator Amy Niedrich PUBLISHER Wendy Geldien COPYRIGHT © 2014 BY SOUND PUBLISHING, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. REPRODUCTION IN WHOLE OR IN PART WITHOUT PERMISSION IS PROHIBITED. ISSN 0898 0845 / USPS 306730 • SEATTLE WEEKLY IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY SOUND PUBLISHING, INC., 307 THIRD AVE. S., SEATTLE, WA 98104 SEATTLE WEEKLY® IS A REGISTERED TRADEMARK. PERI ODICALS POSTAGE PAID AT SEATTLE, WA POSTMASTER: SEND ADDRESS CHANGES TO SEATTLE WEEKLY, 307 THIRD AVE. S., SEATTLE, WA 98104 • FOUNDED 1976. MAIN SWITCHBOARD: 206-623-050 0 CLASSIFIED ADVERTISING: 206-623-6231 RETAIL AND ONLINE ADVERTISING: 206-467-4341

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SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

Linklater explains how he made his acclaimed new Boyhood. 29 | OPENING THIS WEEK | Boyhood, a Spanish cannibal tale, and Philip Seymour Hoffman as German counterterrorist agent.

Contributing Writers Rick Anderson, Sean Axmaker, James Ballinger, Michael Berry, Sara Billups, Margaret Friedman, Zach Geballe, Dusty Henry, Megan Hill, Robert Horton, Patrick Hutchison, Sara D. Jones, Seth Kolloen, Sandra Kurtz, Dave Lake, John Longenbaugh, Jessie McKenna, Jenna Nand, Terra Clarke Olsen, Brian Palmer, Kevin Phinney, Keegan Prosser, Mark Rahner, Michael Stusser, Jacob Uitti

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SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

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news&comment Hail Storm

Seattle’s new ride-share legislation has taxis scrambling to improve service while drivers hope they win the lottery.

Three Reasons Not to Blow Off the August Primary

BY VERNAL COLEMAN

BY MATT DRISCOLL

he taxi drivers of metropolitan Seattle are still smarting, it seems, from the recently signed deal that legalized their app-based competition. That much was made clear last week, after hundreds of area cabbies arrived for customer-service training at the Teamsters Local 117 in Tukwila. Sponsored by the union and developed at its behest by the hospitality-management department at South Seattle Community College, the training was designed to help area cabbies better compete with Uber, Lyft, and the taxi industry’s other upstarts. But not everyone who showed up was able to participate. Minutes after the scheduled morning start, the line to enter the four-hour training session snaked around the cavernous auditorium where it was being held, and continued to grow. It’s a sign of how desperate taxi drivers are to find new ways to compete. Eventually an announcement was made: The training was filled to capacity, explained union staffers. All the preprinted training materials had been handed out. An additional training session would be scheduled for August. The news did not go over well. Shouting ensued. Some grumbled about the $60 cost of the class while waiting in lines to register for future training sessions. Many others who were turned away complained of receiving messages from Yellow Cab-Puget Sound Dispatch suggesting that the training was mandatory. Kiet Nguyen drives a Yellow Cab, #733. Standing next to a banana-yellow sedan, one of many packed into the Teamsters Union parking lot, Nguyen said that for days prior to the session, cabbies were reporting receiving messages via their in-cab computers implying that drivers had to attend the training session. Teamsters 117 Communications Director Paul Zilly said that the union was not aware that Yellow Cab had issued the messages, nor does it condone the suggestion, implied or otherwise, that the training sessions are involuntary. Yellow Cab-Puget Sound Dispatch did not return calls seeking comment. Nguyen confessed that the situation is indicative of a larger problem: communications issues with dispatchers. That’s partly why he’s not altogether enthusiastic about the concessions taxi drivers were given in the City Council-approved legislation that authorized ride-sharing companies. A veteran driver with eight years in the business, Nguyen said, “If you’re a customer and you have a bad experience with a dispatcher, it makes the whole company look bad . . . and if that hap-

f ever there was a primary season akin to watching paint dry, 2014’s is it. There’s no contentious mayor’s race, no raging socialist making a serious bid for the City Council. Fact is, the ballot that arrived in your mailbox last week probably seems less important than those of years past. But blowing off the August 5 primary election would be a mistake— and not just for all the democratic reasons they taught you about in Civics. Depending on where you live, here are three reasons why.

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TEGRA NUESS

The gains for Seattle cabbies are less clear. According to the new legislation, over the next four years the city will issue another 200 taxi licenses—the first new licenses in two decades— and authorize four new taxi stands. The city will also untangle the legislation that governs taxi-license ownership by requiring that licenses be the sole property of the operators who own them. Currently, taxi drivers can share ownership of licenses. Dawn Gearhart, a spokesperson for Teamsters Local 117, which represents 500 local members of the Western Washington Taxicab Operators Association, concedes that some drivers may be disappointed with the deal. But the issuance of additional licenses remains a “victory,” she said. Mohamed, who is not a member of the Association, said he will participate in the lottery that will determine who receives one of the new licenses only if he can save enough money to buy his own car. Like many other taxi drivers in Seattle, he rents the cab he drives from someone else. Despite being pinched financially by competition and increased overhead, Mohamed said driving a taxi represents for him the “best option,” at least in the short term. But what about the long term? “If you become one of these new owners, you can advance in your life,” he said. “But if you don’t get a new license, nothing much has changed for you.” E

vcoleman@seattleweekly.com

Our own Ellis Conklin scooped everyone last week when he broke news that ACLU Washington’s Alison Holcomb was “seriously considering” taking on sitting Seattle City Council member Kshama Sawant. The policy wonks of the Internet had some thoughts: “Holcomb could

run against Sally Clark or another member of the city council’s right wing. You know, councilmembers with decades of ineffectiveness on ‘inequality and regressive taxes.’ ” —District3voter, via seattleweekly.com “Alison is too divisive and un-self-aware to serve. It is impossible to perform well in public service when the only voice you hear is your own.” —Pinhead, via seattleweekly.com “ ‘Right wing of the city council’ . . . ‘regressive members of the council’ . . . You Seattle people are hilarious.” —summitlaker, via seattleweekly.com

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Roach vs. Dahlquist

What’s more fun than watching two grossly conservative Republicans go toe-to-toe in a noholds-barred political cage match? Well, it helps when one of them is arguably batshit crazy, just like Sen. Pam Roach. Having served in Olympia for longer than is fathomable given her infamous mean streak and tendency toward the bizarre, Roach is being challenged by current Republican Rep. Cathy Dahlquist, who has called Roach a bully who threatens people. Tell us something we don’t know, Cathy!

3

Spear vs. Chopp Socialist

Kshama Sawant got her start doing battle with all-powerful Democratic House Speaker Frank Chopp. Back in 2012, Sawant emerged as the socialist darling, and, with the help of a grassroots campaign, secured nearly 30 percent in that year’s general election. This year, Jess Spear—a climate scientist and the architect of Sawant’s successful City Council bid—is trying to do what her former boss couldn’t: take down Chopp. Spear’s chances seem minimal. Still, it’ll be interesting to test the inroads Sawant has made in Seattle over the past few years. The Spear vs. Chopp primary vote will be a good gauge of just how socialist Seattle has become. E

mdriscoll@seattleweekly.com

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

pens, it’s going to take a while for the customers to trust us again.” Others cabbies gathered in clusters outside the building’s front doors were even less optimistic. Walabu Mohamed said he’s been driving a Yellow Cab for just three months—not long enough, it seems, to have become jaded about his prospects. But the deal that gave app-based ride-share companies the green light to operate in Seattle will not solve the taxi drivers’ predicament, he said. Like other drivers, Mohamed contends not just with flat-rate, for-hire, and ride-share companies, but also hotel bellmen and other serviceindustry employees who, he said, give those companies preferential treatment. “The city does not have anyone out on the street helping us get fares, so how does this deal help me?” he asked. Approved by the City Council on July 14, the legislation provides ride-share companies a legal framework to operate within the city. In a victory for the companies, the regulations (or lack thereof, depending on which cab driver you’re speaking with) do not place a cap on the number of active ride-share drivers—a big difference from earlier legislation approved by the Council that had limited the number of ride-share company drivers operating at any given time at 150. But the Council reversed itself, and the repeal paved the way for the cap-less regulatory agreement preferred by Seattle Mayor Ed Murray.

“REPUBLICAN” BY BENJAMIN HARLOW FROM THE NOUN PROJECT

Protesting drivers line the streets outside City Hall last summer.

versus » Will Alison Holcomb Take on Kshama Sawant? MICHAEL CLINARD

Proposition 1 Without Seattle’s 400-plus parks, life in the city would pretty much suck. But do we love parks enough to create a new Metropolitan Parks District intended to be a more stable funding source than the levy system we currently use to fund parks (which, by the way, has left us with an estimated $267 million maintenance backlog)? While progressive Seattle has never shied away from taxing itself for a worthy liberal cause, with universal preschool and Metro tax votes also looming, just how loose will the Emerald City’s purse strings be? The August primary will decide the matter.

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SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014


news&comment»

W W W. S E AT T L E W E E K LY. C O M / S I G N U P

A Name for King Felix’s Greatest Pitch

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Hernandez’s out pitch. Calling it a changeup—a pitch that travels straight at 90 mph, then dives down toward a batter’s feet—isn’t quite right. If you saw a mountain lion tracking your hiking buddy, you wouldn’t yell, “There’s a cat chasing you!” Hernandez’s original creation deserves an original name. He calls it a cambio, but that BY SETH KOLLOEN just means “change” in Spanish. We can do better. So I asked a baseball fan and expert on Latin American culture, my buddy Josh Michtom, to help out. His recommendation: Let’s call Hernandez’s pitch the Joropo. The Joropo (“ho-ROH-po”) is the national dance of Hernandez’s home country, Venezuela. The dance starts fast, as a couple spins and steps in tandem to waltz time. But then there’s an abrupt twist: The couple suddenly begins stepping rapidly in time with a different beat. It’s like a tap-dance battle breaking out in the middle of a polka. These mid-song tempo changes are what make the dance unique and delightful to watch, just as the unexpected downward veer of Hernandez’s out pitch makes it special and dreadful to hit. Says Michtom modestly, “Given the nature of the pitch and the origin of the guy throwing it, this nickname is pretty much perfect.”

EVENTS NEWSLETTER

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W EEKLY MUS IC o one knows what to call Felix

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SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

Plus, it’s fun to say!—the breathy “ho” followed by the emphasized, rollable “ro” and the abrupt “po.” What would be more exciting to hear: the stale standby “struck him out on a change,” or “struck him out with the hhho-RRRRRO-po!”? Dave Niehaus (RIP) would be on this like Kyle Seager on a waist-high fastball. Seems like a fun new chant for the King’s Court, too. Naming Hernandez’s change carries on a team tradition—few pitchers pick unique names for what they throw, but former M’s great Randy Johnson had a name for his devastating slider: Mr. Snappy. Seems fair that the only Mariner pitcher as good as Johnson should also have a name for his out pitch. So share this article! Tweet your friends! I’m not looking for any glory here. I’m just a loyal subject of King Felix, hoping to spread the prestige of his dominion. I hope you’ll join me on this quest. E

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news&comment»

A Brutal Loss, an Enduring Conviction

would have taken little notice of their deaths. After all, the slaying of a Negro in Mississippi is not news. It is only because my husband and Andrew Goodman were white that the national alarm has been sounded.” After her husband’s death, Rita Schwerner, now Rita Bender, continued to work on voting issues with the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party before deciding to earn a law degree. She remarried and spent stints with the American Civil Liberties Union and as a public defender before starting a family law firm in Seattle with her husband. For the 50th anniversary of Freedom Summer, we contacted Bender. She was reluctant to speak with us, repeating a concern that she has voiced continuously through the years—that too much focus has been paid to the white Northerners who came down that summer, and that the embrace of that narrative has slighted all the black Mississippians who had fought for civil rights before, during, and after Freedom Summer. But after learning that hers would be one of a diverse group of voices in ProPublica’s occasional series, “Dispatches From Freedom Summer,” Bender agreed to talk about the impact of that summer and how far our nation has come since.

Fifty years ago, Rita Schwerner’s husband was killed by the Klan in Mississippi. Now living in Seattle, she says challenges remain in the fight for racial justice.

BY NIKOLE HANNAH-JONES, PROPUBLICA

SW: How did a young, white New Yorker come to be a part of Freedom Summer?

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n June 21, 1964, at the launch of Freedom Summer, three civil-rights workers went missing in Neshoba County, Mississippi. Forty-four days later, federal agents searching an earthen dam confirmed what many had already suspected: James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner had been murdered, and in time the Klan would be found responsible. While her husband and his colleagues became martyrs, Rita Schwerner, then 22, became a widow. The Schwerners, both native New Yorkers, had moved to Meridian, Miss., that January to establish a community center for black residents

PHOTO BY MATTHEW WILLIAMS SPECIAL TO PROPUBLICA

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

I am not sure I can give you an answer. I am not sure I had an answer 50 years ago. There are things in our lives that you and I know are important to us. I was teaching in a school in South Jamaica, Queens, just before I went to Mississippi. So I taught there for a semester. The kids were either recent arrivals from Puerto Rico or African Americans who were living in real poverty. But this was an eighth-grade class, and at least half of the kids in the class could not read. Was that part of the reason? Maybe. But they were in New York and couldn’t read. I suspect if I went back to that neighborhood now, I might find the same thing.

and to begin efforts to register black voters. The killing of civil-rights workers was not uncommon. But the murders of Schwerner and Goodman drew the attention of the national media—and as a result, the federal government—because, unlike the others who had been killed, they were white. Rita, diminutive and soft-spoken, was reluctantly thrust into the spotlight, which she used to call attention to the brutality against civil-rights workers and other black Mississippians. “My husband, Michael Schwerner, did not die in vain,” she said at the time. “If he and Andrew Goodman had been Negroes, the world

So that led you to join CORE [Congress of Racial Equality, one of the civil-rights groups that was a major organizer of Freedom Summer]?

We were living in New York. Mickey was a social worker. He somehow got connected with the downtown chapter of CORE, and I met them through him. We got involved in some efforts in New York. One of the big efforts in New York was the integration of the building trades. These were very lucrative jobs, and those were jobs that were completely closed to people of color. The unions wouldn’t do anything about it, and employers had no interest in doing anything about it. And so that is how we became more connected with some of the people with CORE and why we decided we were willing to go to Mississippi.

You and your husband headed to Mississippi in January 1964, six months before Freedom Summer. What were you tasked with doing?

In Mississippi, unlike the rest of the Southern United States, there wasn’t much of a movement present. We were assigned to go to Meridian, in what was the 4th Congressional District. There was this idea of developing a community center with the idea that it would be a place where kids could come and hang out, and where we would gather a library and get as many books as possible on black history and literature, and work with

adults on how to pass the voter registration test, which was virtually impossible to do. It was not very enthusiastically adopted by a lot of the black workers around the state because of the concern that it would be taken over by white people. But it was the local people who said this is a good idea. They said, “Let’s get more folks down here.” So it came to pass.

Freedom Summer was about voter efforts, but less talked about are the Freedom Schools. Bob Moses [a Freedom Summer organizer] told me that education and voting were intertwined because black Mississippians were getting a sharecropper’s education, and you all aimed to change that. Do you agree?

Yes. I think that continues to be true, and not just in the South. Some number of people of color in this point in the history of this country have managed to get a good education and been able to do all types of great stuff. But we’ve kind of created a dilemma for ourselves. The denial of education around the country has created a cheap labor force that until recently was very valuable. Now we’ve moved to mechanization and we seem to have a surplus of under-educated people, but we don’t seem willing to do anything about it. I go back to the eighth-grade kids who couldn’t read. What were they being educated to be? The janitors of New York City. Voting and education continue to be intertwined these days. We see the dismantling of the Voting Rights Act. If you have people who can vote, one of the things they’ll be interested in is schools and education. If you have people who are educated, they will be interested in voting. The right to vote wasn’t just to say, “Yes, I’ve voted.” It was to be able to assert yourself as a participant in the political process. I read that when you and your husband first arrived in Mississippi, white locals pretty much left you alone. Why do you think that was?

I had a sense, and I can’t point to anything in particular, but I’ve always thought that the word was out in Meridian among white folks there who might have hassled us not to create a whole lot of difficulty in the city because they didn’t want a lot of attention brought. Mickey was picked up a few times by the police, but they didn’t do any of the really bad stuff that was happening to workers around the state. But the people who were providing housing for us were being threatened, threatened with loss of whatever job they had, physical harm to them or their children, threatened with the burning of their house. When we first got there, we were living two to three weeks in the house of a black family, and they had to ask us to leave because they were getting threats. Then we were staying with another black family, and they had to ask us to leave because they were getting threats. A black businessman ended up renting a house under his name from a white woman, and we stayed there. Over the course of that spring, the Klan got really active; there was a wave of cross burnings. I remember there was a local farmer who had a lot of kids, and he invited us over to eat fish. We were all at the table eating fish, and we see a commotion outside. Somebody—somebodies— had put up a cross in front of his yard and set it on fire. That family could not miss the message of the risk they were running. And yet, so many were still willing to run that risk to house and feed white volunteers, who obviously stuck out. Why?


There was a sense that, “Hey, maybe people outside of here will know we exist.” It must have been in ways that I can only slightly understand, this sense of being enclosed by all of this terror. It’s really only in the years since that I think it’s become better known, the intense spy apparatus in the state. I don’t think most people knew that was going on, though they certainly knew that somehow or another all kinds of things were known about them.

“We have yet to come to terms with the fact that this is a country that was built on racism and continues to thrive on racism.” I only recently became aware of Mississippi’s State Sovereignty Commission myself, and was both appalled and fascinated by it. [The Mississippi legislature created the Sovereignty Commission after the Brown v. Board of Education ruling. The commission operated as a spy organization that reported on civil-rights efforts, collecting volumes of records, including mug shots and license-plate numbers, on tens of thousands of black and white Mississippians and civil-rights workers. The commission also helped fund the White Citizens’ Council with state money, and assisted in the defense of the man who assassinated Medgar Evers. Some of its staff members were ex-FBI agents.]

I am somewhat obsessed with them because they are just so bizarre. Even now I will get some free time and start reading files. There was one case where white folks had contacted them because this young black man was being a little uppity—I don’t know if that was the actual word used, but that was the gist of it. Then there was a very brief note in the file saying no need to worry because we’ve contacted his draft board. Do you think that kid ever knew why he got drafted? Did you understand the danger of what you were doing?

Perhaps in an intellectual way; in a gut way, probably not. If you grow up in an environment where people aren’t out to hurt you, it’s hard to assimilate the notion that people really are out to hurt you.

Hoover was certainly complicit up to his eyeballs with the kinds of exchange of information with the Sovereignty Commission, the kinds of public attitudes he took. You asked me how did I say those things? I guess the answer is, Why not? They were true. What was Lyndon Johnson possibly going to do to me? In a way, I was very safe. When I went there, that day there had been discussion with some

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How did the President react to your bluntness?

I think he was quite taken aback. I suppose if I was the President of the United States, I’d expect people to be polite to me. It’s not that I hadn’t been taught manners. I don’t know, I guess I had a sense that I didn’t have many minutes and I needed to say what was on my mind. You became a widow at 22. What did you do after Freedom Summer?

I worked through that summer and then through the following year on the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party. Then I decided to go to law school.

Your constant refrain, from the time your husband went missing to the present day, is that the nation only paid attention because two of the men killed 50 years ago were white. Even in 2005, as the national press converged on the trial that finally led to the conviction of your husband’s murderer, you admonished them for treating the trial like it was the most important moment of the civil-rights movement because of the white victims. Why is this so important to you?

We are hearing from the Supreme Court of the United States, or several of its justices anyway, that we are really in a post-racial America and we don’t need to talk about it anymore. That same Supreme Court is gutting the Voting Rights Act and doing away with efforts to provide quality schooling to children of color. We have yet as a nation to come to terms with the fact that this is a country that was built on racism and continues to an appalling degree to thrive on racism. What, then, do you think is the legacy of Freedom Summer?

It’s a hard question to answer. Because in a way the problem is [that] if you take it in isolation, it had far less meaning. I guess that is one of the reasons I chafe so at all the focus on the murders. That distorts the message. This was part, as we both know, of a much, much larger movement. Did it start with the guys who came back from World War II and said we are not going to take it anymore? Did it start with Reconstruction? Did it start with rebellions on slave ships? You have to take the long view, because we still have so much to go. What was the significance of Freedom Summer in and of itself? Not that much. Taken in context of the larger history and understanding what it did, it got the Justice Department involved in voting-rights issues in ways it had not been before. It was possible the Voting Rights Act would not have been passed without the activities of that summer, but it’s hard to say. I think what’s scary about it is thinking about how long does it take for all this change to happen and all the people who get ground up waiting? We are still a work in process. I use process instead of progress because I am not sure about the progress. E

news@seattleweekly.com

Read more of ProPublica’s “Dispatches From Freedom Summer” at propublica.org; search “Freedom Summer.”

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SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

After your husband went missing, you met with FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover and President Lyndon Johnson, and you used those meetings to call out those two powerful men. In fact, after you brushed away President Johnson’s niceties by saying, “This is not a social call. I’ve come to find out where my husband is,” you were told by his press secretary that no one speaks to the President of the United States that way. How did you manage to say those things? Was it because you believed he had been acquiescent to the violence that ultimately led to your husband’s death?

of the other movement people, “What was the message?” And the message was people are being murdered, people are being brutalized, you’ve got to send protection, you’ve got to send federal troops. It wasn’t just send people to find these bodies, it was send protection, which didn’t actually happen.

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g n i k c u F y t f Fi AT THE TAIL END OF THE BABY-BOOM GENERATION, OUR BRAVE REPORTER EXPLORES THE MEANING OF A HALF-CENTURY.

BY MICHAEL A. STUSSER

“Fifty! That’s fucking old.”

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

That’s me, screaming, as I kick at a teddy bear on the floor of my therapist’s office. “It’s halfway to a hundo! Someone says to you, ‘So how old are you?’ and you go, ‘50.’ Well, that’s, that’s . . . That’s fucking old.” In a few months I’ll hit the half-century mark, and I’m having, well, a few qualms about the notion. Until now, age had never really been an issue, but this particular birthday seems like a dark cloud settling in for the long haul. I can’t quite put my finger on what bothers me about that number. Fifty. According to my mother, everybody’s got a birthday that hits ’em hard. Hers was 40. Perhaps these uneasy feelings are the prelude to a deeper reflection on my life, an opportunity for some recalibration. Then again, maybe it’s just a cue to curl up in the fetal position with a stuffed animal here on my therapist’s floor. It’s not unusual for Christa Frame to have children’s toys scattered around her office; kids are her main clientele. My ex-wife and I originally hired her in 2008 for my out-of-control teenager step-daughter. When those sessions stalled, we liked Christa’s straightforward approach so much that we used her as a marriage counselor. After we split, I got Christa in the divorce. Given my periodic temper tantrums, it makes perfect sense I’d be seeing a child therapist. “I’m trying to understand the reason you are having so much trouble about this,” Christa calmly repeats. “It’s just a place in time. You have to look back to see what you’ve done in your life. You are getting to an older stage . . . ” “You just called me old,” I interrupt. “Which I am. Fucking old.” A few visits later, Christa runs me through a variety of charts and pyramids and psychobabble to get to the bottom of my blubbering. Looking over Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, I realize I have very little to complain about. My basic needs are met: I have plenty of food, water, shelter, and clothing. I have security against hunger and violence; my need for belonging is also quenched with some great friends and a loving sister. As for my self-esteem, well, it’s offthe-charts. Compared to Syrian refugees, kids scavenging in the dumps of New Delhi, and 95 percent of the rest of the world, at 50 I’ll be the luckiest bastard on the planet. But still. “It’s obvious you are feeling particularly stressed out about this birthday,” Christa notes during our third session on the subject. “How much different are you from six months ago?” she asks. “Are you old now, and weren’t a year ago? Are you worried you’ll wake up the day after your 50th birthday and not be able to get out of bed? ‘Fucking 50.’ Why is that in your head?” “Because it’s fucking old! It’s the downhill climb. I only have a limited number of days left!” “Well, then you best figure out what’s important to you,” Christa replies in a way that makes me want to pick up a nearby Mr. Potato Head and toss it at hers. “Figure out how you’d like to maximize your ‘remaining days’—even though that’s completely ridiculous—and make the best of it.” I got the impression she’d had enough. And my time was up anyway. An existential crisis of this magnitude was going to take more than talk therapy and a blankey. So I set to gathering a brain trust of sorts to help guide me through this last remaining phase of life. In addition to my therapist, I tapped financial whiz Terry Korotzer, a Tibetan monk

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 13 11


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Fucking Fifty » FROM PAGE 11

named Tulku Yeshi Gyatso, and, most important, the guy who might help keep the ol’ ticker running for a few more precious years, my physician, Terrill Harrington. Team Stusser will be tasked with a few crucial questions: How am I doing? As an old person, how can I maximize the joy factor? Oh, and what’s the meaning of life?

The Good Doctor

The Ageless Monk “Americans and birthdays, I do not understand,” my Tibetan mentor muses when I visit him a few days later at Sakya Monastery in Greenwood. “Buddhists do not believe it is time for celebration. Birth opens up the beginning of suffering. First birth, then sick, then age, then death . . . ” Oh, joy. I thought Buddhists were fat and happy. “Why celebrate the beginning of suffering? Death we celebrate. In this moment—we are free from suffering. Joyful moment.” My friend Tulku Yeshi Gyatso always has a way of flipping an idea on its head. We’d been introduced years ago when I wrote an article about my attempt to speak no evil (during my aforementioned divorce). Over tea and miscommunication, we’ve been exploring a friendship ever since. I try to let Tulku know that I would not be celebrating my birthday, but dreading it. “Maybe this doesn’t apply to you,” I say, trying to explain it to a monk who is somewhere between 30 and 70, with perfect skin, silken robes, and a reincarnated lineage that extends as far as the mind can imagine. “I look in the mirror, I see gray hair and lines, and I just don’t like it. I feel fine, but compared to other people . . . I’m old!” “OK, yes. I understand you, Michael,” Tulku says. “My philosophy for you is to not look around so much or you will find what you feel you are missing. All the young, beautiful people, yes? OK, so, for you, maybe only look at people who are older than you—not younger. Don’t go to nightclub if those people make you sad. Find where people are your age . . . or older! This is a long run. Old people will show you the future—so visit them!” If I was going to hang out with geriatrics, I’d have to uncover people who lived during the height of the Cold War or came of age during Vietnam—people who were raised on Beatlemania and Ed Sullivan and went to school on the G.I. Bill. Old! And yet I actually belong to the very tail end of this epoch, the baby-boom generation, which covers people born from 1946 to 1964. As the name suggests (boom!), there are a helluvalot of us; baby boomers are, in fact, the largest generation of Americans in U.S. history, numbering 77 million and making up almost 30 percent of the American population. Though I don’t put much stock in lumping people together, living through Vietnam, MLK’s assassination, and Watergate has created a group of folks with a few things in common. We ask a lot of questions and don’t believe many of the answers. We’re also collectively grappling with issues of retirement, life fulfillment, and joy. And, according to a recent AARP poll, over half of baby boomers have one more thing in common: they plan to work till they drop. I’m no different. Part of the panic of turning 50 is looking at what my boomer brethren have accomplished at this stage. The President is 52, for fucksake. Thinking about that definitely lights a fire

“Modern medicine can get you to 100. We can screen early for cancers, put stints into your heart. Fifty is the new 35!”

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 15

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“People who are already 50 have a much better chance of making it to 100,” Dr. Harrington declares. “If you think about it, the hardest part is the first few years—all the defects and abnormalities you could have been born with, all the infectious diseases and childhood accidents. You’ve already made it past all the crazy shit your friends dared you to do, all the wild things you did as a young man that should have killed you but didn’t. You survived.” This gives me some relief. Then again, greats like Steve McQueen, Warren Zevon, Clark Gable, and Babe Ruth died in their 50s. Elvis was gone at 42, Gilda Radner at 43, Phil Hartman at 49, and Steve Jobs at 46. Hell, Rod Serling only made it to 50, Napoleon to 51, and Shakespeare to 52. I try to clear my mind and focus on what my doc is saying. “It used to be if your doctor told you you had an ulcer, it was pretty much a death sentence,” Dr. Harrington notes while looking over my chart. “People don’t die of pneumonia or strep throat or heart disease anymore. Syphilis killed Al Capone. Now that you’ve avoided the major pitfalls, we can use modern medicine to get you to 100. We can screen early for cancers, put stints into your heart. Fifty is the new 35!” As for my feeling that 50 was old? “Listen, a child in the hospital with terminal cancer is nearing the end of her life—in that regard, she’s old.” Great. He’s playing the child cancer card. “The longer people live—the older middle age becomes,” Harrington railed, placing a wooden plank on my tongue. “We used to have active jobs: hard labor, fishing, working on the line at Boeing. Your main chance of dying was a tree falling on you. Today you’re more likely to die of the complications of your lifestyle.” He must be referring to the amount of weed I smoke. “Today we spend all day at our desks. So death comes through inactivity. Heart disease. Cholesterol. Type 2 diabetes. “You haven’t been arguing about your age— you’re arguing about perspective, you’re arguing about humanity. As you get older—I said older, not old—you see people who get MS or cancer or take pills or pass away. Your friends are old-er. Your parents are aging. And it worries you more. But in your case, you’ve got so much time left— so much ability to do the things you want to do. You may actually have the majority of your life left. Now drop your drawers . . . ” The guy with his finger up my ass was right: I could actually be at the halfway point: George Burns made it to 100, as did Irving Berlin, Bob Hope, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, and segregationist bastard Strom Thurmond. And I do come from good stock. My grandmother Beth made it to 95. She lived large until

she started losing her sight and sense of taste around 90, then one day just told everyone to come say goodbye, because she refused to get out of bed again. My mom is 79, Dad is 83, and, thanks largely to all that water aerobics, both could kick my ass. I’ll probably live a long life. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really my concern.

13


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Fucking Fifty

say, ‘I’m not going to live past 75.’ How they know that is beyond me. Planning for 75 is different than planning for 95. And I can tell you this— no matter how aggressive we make your game plan, if it’s $16 million you say you need . . . you’re going to need to keep working for a while.” Americans are working longer hours, for more years, and have little to show for it. Almost 60 percent of adults in the U.S. spend their entire paychecks each month. A recent study by Bankrate revealed that 75 percent of Americans don’t even have enough

» FROM PAGE 13

under my ass. My own goal is not to be rich, but famous. Not locally known, not occasionally viral, but historically relevant. And when I look at my current body of work, that means I’ve got a lot to do in whatever time I have left. The best writer I know, Jess Walter, the author of Beautiful Ruins, put it in perspective one night over cocktails. He noted how schools can only highlight a few authors—Shakespeare’s in, so is F. Scott, Toni Morrison perhaps—and then you start moving on to icons in other fields, such as Einstein, Gandhi, da Vinci, and MLK. I may never reach Hunter S. Thompson’s level of notoriety, Pinter’s brilliance, or Bukowski’s mad skills, but quitting is not an option; the only gig is to keep on writing, day in and day out. Even if it goes on for ANOTHER FUCKING 50 YEARS. The many seasons of Stusser’s first 50.

Korotzer doesn’t object. “Listen, the Monte Carlo simulation isn’t a bad plan, but it’s not for everyone. Perhaps the benefit of putting your nest egg under your pillow is less stress. Though I can think of a few better places that are still safe to put your money than in your mattress, maybe, given your unique circumstances,” he says—referring of course to my lack of children, a mortgage, and a life—“it will work for you.” I grew up one of the most privileged kids on the planet. While I’m not Bill Gates Jr., I am a white, upper-middle-class male, and compared to the rest of the population, spoiled beyond good measure. My father did extremely well in business, and was kind enough to put my sister and I through college, take care of my mentally ill brother, and give us down payments for the houses we live in. Point is, I’m lucky. And I get that. “Inheritance is a factor,” Korotzer points out. “What are your expectations there? Do you know your parents’ plans?” I knew enough to know I wasn’t ever going to starve, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to move into Ted Danson’s house. My net worth (what’s left after selling everything I own, then paying my bills and settling my debts) is well above average. And the reason that is an important number, obviously, is that it helps people figure out when—and if—they can stop working and start (just) spending. Barring some massive sickness that would wipe out my entire life savings, if I continue to earn $40,000–$50,000 a year for the next decade or so, I should be able to survive comfortably. If all hell breaks loose (cancer, vehicular manslaughter, termites), I’ll sell my house (which luckily, with the help of my father, is paid off ), kill my parents (sorry, but you’ve had a damn fine run), and revert to eating ramen. Moving forward, money, it turns out, is not my main concern.

Back to the Monk

The Money Man

savings to cover expenses for six months. The average savings for the average 50-year-old? $43,797. As a writer, I don’t really consider what I do “a job,” and thus don’t think about retiring anytime soon. As it turns out, that’s a good thing, because according to the Federal Reserve data, 40 percent of the Americans who are nearing retirement age have zero in savings. Zip. Nada. And for those who do have money in the bank (and IRAs and baskets and GRITs and other types of FDIC-insured piggy banks), the median balance is just $100,000. The worst part? Experts suggest retiring with 10 to 15 times your peak annual earnings, so if you ever earned $75Gs, you’ll need a cool million to kick back Gwyneth-style. Korotzer tries to explain a new model of financial analysis and planning to me—something called the Monte Carlo simulation. He tells me it is somewhat of a gamble. Then he talks about standard deviations of volatility, expected rates of returns, risk tolerances . . . My eyes glaze over, and I realize I want to just put the little money I’ve saved under my pillow. Surprisingly,

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

“Listen, if you’re hit by a bus, then you’re finished, right? Your financial problem is over.” My fiscal advisor Terry Korotzer meets the question of my impending elder state on a casual note. “The sooner you die, for finance, the better . . . ” The reason money matters is not that it makes you happy (it does), but that it gives you enough leisure time to ponder the possibilities of your remaining years. You know why Gwyneth Paltrow is glowing? Not because she’s beautiful or can do handstands or blow her on-again-offagain Coldplay husband while bouncing her perfect Apple on her Dolce & Gabbana-laden knee, but because she’s got enough money to do some poolside daydreaming, then remove the cucumber wrap and buy those tickets to her third home in the Bahamas . . . where she can do more poolside yoga. If I am going to live another 50 years (or 10, even), I’ll need more money. This is something I haven’t exactly planned for. I’ve got no pension, nothing paid into Social Security, and no real regular or predictable income. “The old flat-rate-of-return model was fairly straightforward,” explains Korotzer, a financial advisor to some of Seattle’s fattest cats. “You’d look at your Boeing pension, see what kind of Social Security you’d get, look at your investment rate of return. You add up what you have coming in, figure out your expenditures, and see how much you can live on and for how long. That’s no longer how the world works.” lf you’re looking for a golden ticket, a little

insider trading perhaps, or a get-rich-quick trick, Korotzer’s not your guy. Thoughtful and detailed, his method is more Socratic than Madoffic. To come up with a comprehensive plan, he wants to know information I haven’t really considered in my previous 49 years: How long do I intend to keep working? (Do I have a choice?) When do I want to retire? (Do writers get to do that?) How long am I planning to live? (60?) What is my tolerance for risk? (As in, unprotected sex?) How much do I plan on spending in my remaining years? (How much ya got?) What will my earning look like? (What does that even mean?) And do I want to leave anything for anyone else, or was the goal to spend my last dime on my deathbed? (Is it a nice deathbed?) It was time to tell Korotzer the story of Ted Danson’s house. Ever since I had a chance to attend a fundraiser at the Santa Barbara home owned by Danson and Mary Steenburgen in 1989, I haven’t been able to think of anywhere else. It was fashioned in the Spanish style I love, with an infinity pool that overlooks the ocean and those palm trees. Estimated price: $16 million (in 1989 dollars). “Well, then, in this case, time is a big help for you. The longer you are alive—the older you get—the more you can work. Some of my clients

I return to the monastery to visit Tulku, wanting to pick his brain on the subject of living in the present moment while still doing some longer-term planning. Pulling end-of-life advice out of a man who has been reincarnated several thousand times is like trying to get Miley Cyrus to wear baggy pants. Still . . . “Think this way: You are still building this house; not finished. Don’t stop building it—have desire and connection. Hopes for this house,” Tulku encourages while sipping his tea. “It brings energy and joy for the project. When you are done with the house, OK, maybe sad. You will then only have the attachment to this thing, and see its flaws, its wrinkles. Then it will be sad.” I was fairly sure the “house” he was referring to was a metaphor for my life, but his accent often got in the way of my enlightenment. “Tibetan saying is that old man does not show old age. When your mind is old—only then are you old. Many people have very old body—fall apart—but mind is young. And they are young! Of course, physical body is key. You can hike and work and jump—also helps with mind. So you must take care of this body.” As for my “old” mindset? “If you were born yesterday, you are older today. Logically, a 20-year-old is much older than 10-year-old. I think now you are in middle,” Tulku says with a sly smile. “Not too young. Not too old. 50 is perfect! Middle is best!” It’s clear that I’m not stopping to smell the roses. I could be sipping the best organic doubleshort vanilla macchiato in the entire world, and instead of marveling at the zest of the orange peel or the deep purple tone of the perfect foam or the beautiful woman sitting across from me, I’m won-

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 17 15


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Fucking Fifty » FROM PAGE 15

dering if I have enough time on my parking meter before I rush off to the next event, which I won’t be fully present for. This is unacceptable. It really is just a simple mathematical equation: Figure out what you like to do, then spend a majority of your time doing it. Sacrifices will have to be made. This may mean watching fewer episodes of The Daily Show or skipping my friend’s kid’s 4th birthday party, but something’s got to give. I like putting on a suit and writing in bars, so I’ve added it to my iPhone’s calendar. Repeat three times a week. Oh, and fucking Star Anna. Repeat.

The Younger Girlfriend Though I’ve chosen to spend the bulk of my life as a single man, when it comes to love, I’m an optimist. I enjoy being in relationships, and think people can be more fulfilled when sharing their lives with a significant other. It’s also often an energy-sucking, expensive, stressful pain-in-theass. Which brings me to my current love life. I am in love, with a gorgeous and talented rock star named Star Anna. Star and I have dated for almost nine months, and are a unique and oddly paired couple. The first thing people notice (aside from Star’s hair, which is often pink or platinum or blue) is our age difference; she’s 28, and, as we all know, I’m nearly fucking 50. The reason this matters is not because she and I have wildly different cultural references, interests, or social mores, but because there’s a cliché about older men dating younger women which often gets in the way of what is otherwise a nice coupling. To be honest, I don’t give a rat’s ass what people think, though I do hope she’s not embarrassed when some kid jokingly calls me her Dad on Facebook. I think where couples with a significant age difference run into trouble is related to maturity. No one wants to date someone prone to hissy fits, hysterics, and immature outbursts. Luckily, Star puts up with mine. More and more adults are finding themselves single and living alone at my age. According to the Census Bureau, the percentage of one-person households has grown over the past 40 years from 17 percent in 1970 to almost 30 percent today. That’s a combo of people getting married later in life (five years later than in the ’70s); getting divorced at a higher rate; enjoying their newfound freedom; and in my case, all of the above. It also probably has something to do with the ease of accessing online porn. The U.S. birthrate is also falling, and is currently at its lowest in American history. A recent Pew Research report showed not only that the fertility rate has dropped 9 percent over the past five years, but that childlessness has risen in every racial and ethnic group. (About one in five American women now end their child-bearing years without rugrats, as compared to one in 10 in the 1970s.) Without kids of my own (my ex-wife has twins from a previous marriage, whom I am close to)—and with a vasectomy to make sure there aren’t any unplanned towheads in the future—it is quite possible I’ll die alone. I don’t mention this for sympathy, but because much of pondering “the end game” has to do with what we want

to leave in this world, and to whom. I want to leave a mark—and excess cash to friends, lovers, and Friends of the Earth. While I respect the hell out of Star as a singer, a poet, and a strong, sexy rock-’n’-roll goddess, I have a great deal of fear around our relationship—make that any relationship. I’m set in my ways. My house is all neat and tidy, and she’s . . . not. She’s young . . . and I’m not. I grew up on Mercer Island in a well-to-do Jewish household, and she was raised in a rusted-out school bus on the wide-open plains of Ellensburg (really). Shockingly (to both of us), we just fit: We’ve got similar warped senses of humor; we are both jealous and creative, loyal and strong-willed; and, most important, we love one another and want to make the relationship work. Unbeknownst to me, being able to tap into heart-wrenching and painfully deep places for creative pursuits can often spill into real life. (Go figure.) While my writing has a range somewhere between Neil Simon and David Sedaris, her songwriting is more on the Nina Simone/ Elliott Smith spectrum. “Please don’t lose faith in my love; I can do better next time,” she has written. “My world comes tumbling down, shakes me awake and aware. Skies open up like heaven fell through, endless and stretched to no end.” Star’s desperately dark valleys sometime consume her; maybe—just maybe—this is where my experience can help. In The Mill on the Floss, the great scribe George Eliot said, “The middle-aged, who have lived through their strongest emotions, but are yet in the time when memory is still half-passionate and not merely contemplative, should surely be a sort of natural priesthood whom life has discipled and consecrated to be the refuge and the rescue of early stumblers and victims of self-despair.” Since we began dating, Star has quit smoking, started making more eye contact, and cheered up considerably. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now,” I tell her during anxious moments. “We’ve got time.” And I know this . . . because I’ve lived a long time. This isn’t to say we don’t have our challenges. A few nights before Thanksgiving last year, Star gave me a preview of the outfit she’d be wearing to dinner with my family—a lovely, conservative ensemble, covering the tattoos that so beautifully adorn parts of her body. Everything seemed perfect, until she showed up on Thanksgiving having dyed her hair green the night before. If opposites attract, we’re fusing into one solid diamond.

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(From the Same Guy)

I returned to my doctor’s office and went over my lab results with Dr. Harrington. All was well, given the fact I was fucking old. “All your indicators are looking good. Cholesterol levels are good. Blood pressure is where it needs to be. If you dropped 10 pounds, you’d feel much better. Get some more exercise, and watch what you eat.” But what about the cambozola, doc! And the cheesecake!? “You can have cheesecake now and again, just don’t eat a giant slice. If you’re craving cheese, buy those remnants they have at the Market. But lay off the bread, the pasta. Having a bagel is

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 18

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

A Second Opinion

17


Fucking Fifty

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like eating a donut. Would you eat a donut every morning?” No comment. “It’s more about your attitude. The more you fight the current, the worse it gets. Ride the wave. As you get older, you won’t be as strong or as fast. But for a 70-year-old to lament that he’s not 30 is depressing. Your question should be, ‘How am I doing for 50?’ Your benchmarks should be security and happiness and love and financial security and passion. Happiness with where you are.” And what if I get cancer? Or bird flu? “Fear is a lousy motivator. We’re screening for cancers. You’re going to get a colonoscopy.” I make a face. “A lot of that’s homophobia, by the way. You’re not having sex with a man; he’s putting a camera up your ass.” I suggested that at my age there were indeed plenty of things to worry about. Like Alzheimer’s. Or terrorism. “Look, worry can paralyze a person, or worse, have them do the wrong things: taking excessive vitamins or unnecessary supplements. Guys come in here begging for testosterone pills. They’re the equivalent of breast implants for men! You don’t need to worry about giving up gluten or any of that crap. What you should worry about is worrying too much. Depression. Anxiety. Yes, you need to start paying some attention to your body now that you’re 50. Make intelligent decisions. “Think of all the years you aren’t in control! The first 10 years you’re barely making it, someone is feeding you and telling you what to do and wiping your ass. The next 10 years you can’t drink, everything’s illegal, you don’t have your own house or job. The 10 years after that, you don’t know enough to do anything that well. Now, at 50, you should be celebrating. It’s an achievement!”

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

And Back to the Therapist

18

“You have a career you enjoy, and are finding success as a writer. You’re in good health. You’re dating a 28-year-old, so obviously there are people who don’t see you as old,” Christa summarizes in our final session. “You yourself said you’re ‘on a roll.’ So what exactly is the problem?” I sat for a long time staring at the stuffed animals and building blocks in the corner of Christa’s office, and thought about all I’d learned. I realized how fortunate I am to have my life. To have my health. To be in love. To be financially and spiritually at ease. In the end, after all the counsel and guidance, I didn’t want to move to Africa for perspective; I didn’t need to be convinced I might live another 50 years, or that my best days lie ahead. Call it vanity or narcissism or fear, but I just had an issue with the number; it wasn’t that I felt old—just the opposite. I didn’t want to sound old. “OK,” Christa says, putting her practical thinking cap on. “I get it. There’s been a stigma about asking women their age, and in your own way, you don’t want to deal with that. So don’t.” I wait for the caveat. “Just say something like, ‘I have to tell you, I feel 35.’ Say you aren’t a number—or even that you’re hung up on numbers. Say that you are feeling incredible about your life or career and all the amazing things you’ve done—and that you’d love to talk about that. Say your life is about other things—and that you’re feeling kick-ass.” And when they ask me my biological age? “Tell them you lost count.” Funny how in the end, it took a child therapist to make me feel young again. E

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food&drink The Respectable Deli

BY MEGAN HILL

Porkchop & Co. delivers on quality and specialty items, with just a few misses. BY NICOLE SPRINKLE

P

Local microbrewery Reuben’s Brews has brought home yet another award, this time placing fourth (out of 300 breweries from 20 countries) in the “Top 10 Breweries” category in the 2014 U.S. Open Beer Championship. They also nabbed four medals: bronze for the Dry Irish Stout, silver for the American Brown and Auld Heritage, and gold for the Roggenbier. Capitol Hill will soon be home to nanobrewery Outer Planet Craft Brewing, reports Capitol Hill Seattle. It’s set to open in the fall in the new Cal Park building on 12th Avenue. Megan Gordon left a fast-paced job in finance to open a macaron shop, made possible in part by a successful Kickstarter campaign. Gordon will open Lady Yum on Friday, July 25, selling macarons with inventive flavors—like mango habanero, fennel pear, maple bacon, pineapple upside-down cake, salted caramel, and toasted coconut—plus local wine and specialty food products.

PHOTO COURTESY LADY YUM

PHOTOS BY MORGEN SCHULER

Popular gluten-free bakery Nuflours has announced the start of a weekly pop-up while it works on its brick-and-mortar bakeshop in the former North Hill Bakery space on Capitol Hill. Owners Amanda Bedell and Phebe Rossi have a working kitchen ready in the space, so they’ll be selling ice-cream sandwiches, bread, and pastries outside the shop starting Friday from 7–10 a.m. and 3:30–6 p.m. E morningfoodnews@seattleweekly.com

TheWeeklyDish Pestle Rock’s Gai Phad Prick Gang BY NICOLE SPRINKLE

of pork jus (in the fashion of a French dip) flavored with more thyme and other herbs, it spoke wonderfully of the juices from a Thanksgiving turkey—yet it too needed a bit more oomph. A pinch of salt would have likely done the trick. Ditto for the smoked-trout sandwich; the fish was nearly tasteless and barely amped up by the fennel, arugula, and pickled onions. The apple melt, on the other hand—one of four sandwiches you can still order at dinner— was a tangy blast of pickled Pink Lady apples, Beecher’s cheddar, gruyère, and caramelized onion served on grilled sourdough. I added the country ham for an extra $2. With dinner happy hour in effect (4–6 p.m., $2 off every menu item), it was a well-spent extra couple of bucks. The

NICOLE SPRINKLE

Top: the plat de résistance. Bottom left: a standout smoked-beet purée. Bottom right: Order at the counter.

I don’t think Pestle Rock in Ballard gets nearly enough buzz for its excellent Thai cuisine. Not only is it one of few (if any?) Thai restaurants in the city that sources its ingredients from quality farms and producers (Carlton Farms, Anderson Farms, Draper Valley), but they also have harderto-find items like frog legs, trout, salmon, and catfish preparations and curries and salads with ingredients like wild boar collar. Plus, they know how to do spicy the Thai way—so hot it hurts, yet still flavorful. I have so many dishes I like there, but this week I really dug their Gai Phad Prick Gang. While it’s a staple Thai dish, theirs is made with stir-fried Draper Valley chicken, a housemade chile paste, pert and tart chunks of green Thai eggplant, perfectly steamed green beans, kachai root (or Chinese ginger), and actual fresh chilies (the kind that haven’t been dried, but resemble little bunches of tiny capers and bring serious heat). It’s a wonderfully balanced dish—and perfect for summer with its bright-green veggies. E

pork chop sandwich was solid, if still a tad quiet. But where else can you get a juicy 9-ounce bonein pork chop on a bun? I loved the addition of house pickles, spicy mayo and “salsa verde”—a spread that tasted predominately like cilantro. The whole affair is sort of like a banh mi on steroids. While I didn’t have the smoked beet or cauliflower sandwiches, I had their dinner counterparts. The smoked-beet pureé, a house-smoked

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 21

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SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

orkchop & Co., newly opened in Ballard a couple of months ago, is utterly unique in concept—and that’s both a good thing and a hindrance. The best way I can describe it: a hybrid deli–meets–farm-to-table restaurant with unique sandwiches, salads, and sides—as well as a pared-down breakfast and dinner menu with prebottled booze. The space is airy, with high ceilings, blond wood, and concrete—a decor Seattleites have become programmed to associate with trendy restaurants. So it’s a bit jarring when you come in and realize that you need to order at the counter. There you must digest all the options from a large board, divided into breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Another chalkboard on an opposite wall lists your drink choices: beer, wine (currently heavy on summer-friendly white Bordeaux and vinho verde), and premade cocktails like gin gimlets, Manhattans, and negronis in small, clear glass bottles with handwritten labels—a playful touch that seems like a riff on a deli soda. Lunch has the most items, the majority of them sandwiches. But they’re not your typical cheesesteak or Italian sub (though there is a pulled pastrami). Instead think smoked beet, cauliflower, smoked trout, apple melt—and of course the pork chop. According to Porkchop & Co.’s website, owner Paul Osher comes from a line of kosher butchers and worked at a corner deli during his college days. He began making his signature sandwiches at the Santa Monica Farmers Market using housecured meats and ingredients from the market. It’s that style of sandwich that predominates at Porkchop & Co., Osher’s first Seattle venture, where layered between bread and meat from the finest farms and establishments (like Skylight Farms, Painted Hills, Tots & Trotters, and Olympic Provisions), you’ll find surprises such as housemade pickled onions, kimchi, or a schmear of duck-liver mousse. Yet despite the consciously sourced ingredients and the decadent delicatessen, on my four visits there (breakfast, lunch, two dinners), I often found the flavors lacking. Even their housemade kimchi felt like it needed “something.” Take the porcetta sandwich, for instance. Pork shoulder cooked with thyme and fennel and packed with arugula, pickles, and aioli was shockingly delicate in taste. Served with a side

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beet dip with a few generous dots of Point Reyes blue cheese served with grilled bread, will forever put in doubt any other beet preparation you encounter. Equal parts, sweet, smoky and sharp, you’ll be vying for a fair share with your dining partner. It still won’t seem like enough, so buy some to take home. It’s for sale, as is the house kimchi and strawberry jam. Likewise, the potatoes & cauliflower—roasted fingerlings with spicy cauliflower—was topped with one of the tastiest romesco sauces I’ve had; Osher told me theirs is made with red bell peppers, almonds, sherry, and paprika. While I had high hopes for the “Best Parts of the Chicken”—confit wings and a cracklin with a fermented pepper buffalo sauce—I was underwhelmed. Prepared similarly to sous vide, according to Osher, it made for an incredibly tender wing, but the flavor was lacking, as was the buffalo sauce that could have saved it. The cracklin on top was utter fatty bliss that could rival a New York City Washington Heights bodega’s, but unfortunately it called out the dullness of those “best parts.”

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There are usually three or four “plates” on the dinner menu, like half a roast chicken or a pan-roasted salmon, but I fell in love with the spaetzle served with delicious tiny beech mushrooms, red cabbage, and a poached egg on top. The tiny al dente dumplings made for a nice deviation from traditional pasta, and the mushrooms’ earthiness permeated the entire dish, which often doesn’t happen when chefs try to use them as a flavoring agent. Back to the concept: I love that there’s no place quite like this in Seattle. And the trend for very specialized eating experiences seems to bode well for it. Plus, lunch and brunch (when you can get things like kimchi hash and a vegan bowl of roasted kale and grits, as well as pastries during the week from Laura Pyle’s Parchment pop-up) feel busy and well suited to the orderat-the-counter space. It’s just dinner, which was recently added, that leans toward awkward, because you’re ordering entrée-style meals from a counter or else eating a sandwich, which I generally care to do only at lunch. There’s also not much ambience come evening—probably due to the reasons I just cited. But there could be worse things than sitting outside or in the soaring interior on a warm summer night sharing a bottled Manhattan over a bowl of spaetzle, a charcuterie plate, and pickles. E

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tanding on the white-sand beaches of the island of Baru, a short boat ride from Cartagena, Colombia, I drank a pina colada made inside a freshly opened coconut—and fulfilled a lifelong goal (yes, I’ve dreamed about drinking a cocktail for far longer than I’ve legally BY ZACH GEBALLE been able to). So it’s time to talk about a few other items on my drinking bucket list. One or two of them might be unrealistically expensive or exclusive; nonetheless, this is meant to be an exercise in actual possibilities.

THEBARCODE

• Visit the famous “sundial vineyards” in the Mosel Valley in Germany. Sources of some of

the finest rieslings on the planet, they’re famous for the sundials put in place in the 19th century so vineyard workers could know when to break for lunch. Situated on staggeringly steep slopes, these vineyards are supposedly among the most striking in the world. Put a glass of the wine in my hand, and I’d be a happy man. As long as I didn’t fall down the slope, of course. • Take a distillery tour in Kentucky. I’ve actually been to Louisville, but didn’t get to visit any distilleries, because combining a rental car with bourbon tastings seemed like a bad idea. Given that bourbon is still America’s foremost contribution to the world of spirits, and Bourbon County is its spiritual home, it’s an experience I’d very much like to have. • Find an IPA that I truly love. My distaste for the style is probably well known at this point, but given the intensity and passion with which readers told me I was an idiot, I’d be more than happy to be proven wrong. • I crossed off one item when the Seahawks won the Super Bowl: getting to open a bottle

MORGEN SCHULER

Our Patio is Open!

A Drinker’s Bucket List

Morsel’s morsels.

Biscuits in Ballard BY NICOLE SPRINKLE

J

ust when you think Ballard couldn’t possibly squeeze another restaurant into its culinarily packed parcel of space, up pops something new. Morsel, which launched in the U District last spring and just reopened on busy 15th Avenue in the former Blue Dog Kitchen space, specializes in biscuits—and in the housemade “fixins” that top them. Whether you’re going for, say, a savory “Cheddar Chive” or the traditional buttermilk, you can customize it to your liking with 75 toppings—like strawberry balsamic jam (I loved the balsamic tang, which kept it on the less-sweet side), chocolate hazelnut butter (essentially Nutella, as I reminded my daughter, but much more complex and less treacly), fig honey, tomato jam, and several butters includof champagne to celebrate a championship in ing honey, apple, and maple. They even offer Seattle. All that remains is to do the same when a seasonal “Bis . . . Cake,” a buttermilk biscuit the Mariners finally win the World Series. decadently topped in cakelike fashion—for • Make my own wine. I share this desire with example (at press time) with caramelized my dad. While there’s not much chance it’ll be Rainier cherries, 2bar bourbon sauce, and anything more than passable, the experience Ghirardelli chocolate. would be informative enough to –make New Hours: M-F 12:00 7:00it worthIf you’re stopping in for breakfast (be while. Saturday 10:00 – 5:00 warned, a recent Saturday morning brought • Do a shot of Fernet Branca with Anthony Sunday 12:00 – 5:00 a sizable line that wrapped outside the small Bourdain. I hope this doesn’t need any more Bring this ad for an extra 10% off space), there are biscuit “sammies”: variations explanation. For weeklyaspecials, follow us on Facebook of egg sandwiches of which “The Spanish Fly” • Attend few of the great drinking conferis a must-try. It’s a fried egg with generous Tales of ences and festivals around the WA world: 4023 Aurora Ave. N. Seattle, 98103 slices of prosciutto, thick slabs of manchego the Cocktail in New Orleans, the International www.samcollective.org cheese, arugula, and a kick of Mama Lil’s PepPinot Noir (206) Celebration in the Willamette Valley, 632-4023 per Aioli served on a biscuit of your choice. and of course Oktoberfest in Germany. A non-profit organization in accordance with chapter RCW 69.51A There’s also biscuits and gravy (sausage or • Taste a bottle of Madeira made over a cenFor weekly specials, follow us on mushroom) and Facebook seasonal cups of soup: corn tury ago. Port or sherry would also be acceptable. saffron when I was there, but unfortunately • Drink a beer out of the Stanley Cup. I’m not 4023 Ave. Seattle, just run WA out. 98103 even really a hockey fan, butAurora that would still be N.they’d Besides the biscuits, a pretty built-out cofpretty awesome. www.samcollective.org fee bar resides there as well, serving roasts from • Have a cocktail named after me. Kuma and Velton. Besides the standards, they I’m sure that over time, a few more items offer chai lattes, housemade flavored syrups like will be added to my list, and hopefully some vanilla and and slow bar options. be crossed off.A What’s on your drinking bucket non-profi t organization in accordance withcardamom, chapter RCW 69.51A They even make their own sodas (club soda with list? Respond in the comments or e-mail me, seasonal syrups—lemon lavender when I was and I’ll include some of the best responses in a in). Best of all? The drive-through window. E future column. E

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arts&culture

ThisWeek’s PickList

From the Father to the Sum Two generations of artists engage race, culture, and history at the Frye.

BY BRIAN MILLER

WEDNESDAY, JULY 23

T

bmiller@seattleweekly.com

FRYE ART MUSEUM 704 Terry Ave., 622-9250, fryemuseum.org. Free. 11 a.m.–5 p.m. Tues.–Sun., 11 a.m–7 p.m. Thurs.

Pacific Place, 600 Pine St., FathomEvents. com. $18. 7:30 p.m. (Repeats Thurs.; also plays at Lincoln Square.) BRIAN MILLER

All six Pythons in their ’70s prime.

SW FILE PHOTO

used-car salesmen, D.C. politicians, child molesters . . . these are the oppressors, yes, yet Barnes presents them almost like taxonomic specimens. By the time he gets to the late ’80s, in his Urban Gargoyle series, anthropology becomes bestiary. There’s a suggestion of George Grosz in this urban menagerie, with what Barnes calls our “predatory nature” revealed. Elsewhere, ugly masks cover uglier faces (or blend into those faces). Alternatively, and this comes as something of a relief, Barnes also draws a pantheon of the jazz icons he reveres (Monk, Bird, etc.). These figures become one with their instruments, transmogrified like some of his other characters—only in a good way. A magical distortion is at work; here Barnes praises “musicians who weave the spells they weave.” That notion of enchantment extends to paintings of unicorns mixing with people; mythology comes down to the ground and the human realm where, Barnes says in his catalogue remarks, “the land is alive, family and ancient traditions are present” at the same time. The sense of a living mythological past, of Ovid-like transformations right here in the present, informs Barnes’ most famous Seattle work, represented here with a memorial. He and his wife, Royal Alley-Barnes, spent four years in the early ’70s creating the outdoor Omowale mural at Medgar Evers Pool. (It was controversially removed in 1995 after essentially rotting away in the elements; money couldn’t be found for its restoration.) In Yoruba, Omowale translates roughly as “children return home,” and it’s a common name—one bestowed on Malcolm X as an honorific during his 1964 visit to Nigeria. In photos and preliminary studies, the huge mural—kind of a fanciful timeline—represents “a romantic yearning for some-

The next generation of minority artists represented in Your Feast Has Ended largely eschews painting and drawing. Instead of allegory, uplift, and inspiration, there’s more of an explicit critique of the power structure and its sometimes violent manifestations. Alley-Barnes conflates trophy hunting with the death of Trayvon Martin in Wait! Wait! Don’t Shoot (An Incantation for Jazz and Trayvon), a wall-mounted assemblage of thrift-store clothing, sleeves help upward in a gesture of surrender. Animal pelts and taxidermy hint at an uncomfortable racial legacy of species collection and display—like the notorious Hottentot Venus (Sarah Baartman) of the early 19th century. Varsity letter jackets, textiles, and other found artifacts are massed and arranged in totemic patterns. There’s a tribal code implied here, like the patterns of old Indian blankets (to which Alley-Barnes also refers); past and present outrages are woven together, though with more craft than subtlety. A Briton now based in Toronto, Nep Sidhu likewise invests a huge amount of effort in his large metalworked texts. The dense Arabic scripts are “a sculptural translation” of texts by Alley-Barnes, Ishmael Butler (also a member of the Shabazz Palaces collective), and the artist’s late mother, he says. The present (or near-present) takes on an arcane and even possibly occult power—like Egyptian hieroglyphics or sacred objects found in a tomb. Sidhu’s jewelry and clothing suggest a kind of neo-shamanism, like tokens for forgotten rituals. There’s a spirit of tribal mashups that you also see in Alley-Barnes’ work: the hip-hop tradition of sampling that here extends from the turntable to the history museum. Still, the most conceptually cooked works here are by the Canadian Tlingit artist Nicholas Galanin. To me, he’s the real discovery among the four artists exhibiting this summer, the guy most deserving of a solo show. The politics and history he evokes are the most specific, and he does far less borrowing and appropriation. In a signature work from 2009, from the Burke’s permanent collection, a taxidermy wolf struggles to emerge from its hindquarters—already a flattened rug. A low-wattage radio station broadcasts Tlingit language lessons, its signal too weak to be heard outside the museum. And the 2010 SPD murder of John T. Williams is commemorated both with a drum (to be beaten with a police nightstick) and a video of a Tlingit dancer wearing cedar body armor. Of course that cladding wouldn’t stop a bullet, no more than art can stop history or redress historical wrongs. E

This is a rebroadcast of one of this month’s 10 live London reunion shows by the legendary comedy troupe (all together, now): John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, and Michael Palin. The five have been coy about convening for official performances (as opposed to stage chats), and they commanded a hefty paycheck for doing these gigs after a 30-year break. The Guardian sniffed that the whole lucrative enterprise was to pay for Cleese’s alimony, but tickets sold out instantly, no matter the price, no complaints from fans. Idle, who created the cash cow that is Spamalot, directed the show; and Gilliam, on something of an unwanted hiatus from film directing, was in charge of the animations and archival projections of past Python TV shows and movies—of which there are many. (Hence the “mostly” live qualifier.) But from both The New York Times and Guardian, the reviews were entirely warm about the Pythons’ warmed-over material. This is an oldies show, and they know it: vaudeville for the Lipitor and hip-replacement set (all five are in their 70s); entertainment now fit for grandfather-and-grandson outings. (The three-hour show carries an R rating, but kids have to start somewhere, right?) All your favorite bits will be reprised, including the dead parrot sketch, the lumberjack song, and the Spanish Inquisition—now entirely expected. And of course the ghost of Graham Chapman (well, ghostly image) will make a cameo or three.

FRIDAY, JULY 25

BAM ARTSfair

I recently learned, in a pictorial history of Bellevue, that what we presently call ARTSfair (now in its 68th year) was launched from the walls of the Crabapple restaurant in Bellevue Square. Its owner decorated the upscale eatery—famed for its large madrona tree in front—with local art, and thus came the 1947 Pacific Northwest Arts & Crafts Fair. Kemper Freeman Sr.’s new openair mall was then still a small operation serving a nascent suburb. The war had just ended, and the first floating bridge across Lake Washington was only seven years old. Before then, Renton and Kirkland (serviced by ferry) were the only towns of note on the Eastside. Inaccessible Bel-

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

who supplied headlines like “White Seattle Is Doomed” (1971). Digs at an unequal school system and Boeing’s SST debacle make you want to see more archival material from that radical period in Seattle’s history—perhaps a show at MOHAI. It’s one thing to protest racism and injustice, another to depict its effects. Many of Barnes’ drawings show somewhat grotesque characters who’ve been warped and twisted by society—made into monsters, in effect. The Green River killer, ’80s subway vigilante Bernhard Goetz, apartheid enforcers,

Galanin’s Ism #1.

RICHARD NICOL

Barnes’ Big Mama Thornton Letting the Hound Dog Loose.

Monty Python Live (mostly)

thing that may or may not have ever existed,” says Barnes. We see the mythic and the mortal, walking together, hand in hand.

COURTESY OF THE ARTIST

wo shows, running concurrently at the Frye, are bound by a strand of DNA— and then something more. The solo exhibit The Unicorn Incorporated (through Sept. 21) is a career retrospective for Seattle’s Curtis R. Barnes that reaches back to the ’60s. His son, Maikoiyo Alley-Barnes, is one of three artists in Your Feast Has Ended (through Sept. 14). As usual, it’s easier to get a handle on a single artist than a group, though all four men discussed their work at the opening last month. Barnes, shy, modest, and soft-spoken, had to be coaxed to say much about his creative output—mostly paintings and drawings, plus a small number of carved wooden figures. “I’m not in the habit of talking about my work,” he said, leaving the curators to do it for him. As a child during the ’50s, he took his first art classes at the Frye, which is now claiming him—and publishing a catalogue—with institutional pride. (He later trained at Cornish.) But, really, most of his work here was forged by the politics of the ’60s, rather than by some particular school. After serving two years in the Army, Barnes became associated with the Afro American Journal, contributing drawings and cartoons. Racism, Vietnam, Muhammad Ali, MLK, Malcolm X, black power, and the civil-rights movement all figure in these caricatures and illustrations. You can’t really sort out Barnes’ views from those of his editors,

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 24 23


arts&culture» » FROM PAGE 23 performances (with choreography from Byron Carr, Pat Graney, Jody Kuehner, KT Niehoff, Bennyroyce Royon, Shannon Stewart, and Rosa Vissers) are as warm as the last night at sleepaway camp. Broadway Performance Hall, 1625

S N O Q U A L M I E C A S I N O | M O U N TA I N V I E W P L A Z A

SUMMER

CONCERT

3

“SMOKE ON THE WATER”

DEEP PURPLE

SUN | AUG 10 | 7PM

“SWEET HOME ALABAMA”

WED | AUG 13 | 7PM

“HEART OF ROCK AND ROLL”

HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS

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MULTI-AWARD WINNING SUPERSTAR

LEANN RIMES

WED | AUG 20 | 7PM

The BAM lobby becomes a pee-wee art-making space.

levue, in the lonely middle between them, was just farmland when Freeman began buying up parcels. Remember that in ’47, there was no I-5, and Bellevue suddenly became a quick downtown commute to affordable new ranch houses. The fair kept growing with the city, aided by a second bridge; and BAM got its start inside the mall in 1975. This weekend’s celebration takes place in an entirely changed landscape with three concurrent festivals. BAM offers free admission to its exhibits (including origami art and the craft creations of Japanese-American internees during World War II). Outside and at the mall will be booths representing some 300 artists, children’s activities, live music, and artist demos. Then there’s the Bellevue Street Fair and the Bellevue Festival of the Arts, offering still more food, fun, and entertainment. The whole enchilada is being called Bellevue Arts Fair Weekend. The Crabapple, so far as I can determine, closed with the mall’s 1980 redo. It was located roughly where Crate & Barrel is today. (Through Sun.) Bellevue Arts

Strictly Seattle

Velocity Dance Center started this summer workshop to bring local dancers together with local choreographers, but somehow the word leaked out—and now we’ve got dancers from all over the country showing up. The session-closing Niehoff is among the locals on the bill.

684-7200, seattlecenter.com. Free. Movies begin at dusk. BRIAN MILLER

Malam Budaya

TICKETS: SNOCASINO.COM/SUMMERSERIES SEATTLE’S CLOSEST CASINO | I-90 E, EXIT 27

/Snocasino

From 1987, Rob Reiner’s charming PG-rated adaptation of the classic William Goldman children’s tale The Princess Bride is sweet, funny, and well played down the line for both parents and kids. Cary Elwes and Robin Wright are the handsome, occasionally quarrelsome lovers; Wallace Shawn, Mandy Patinkin, and the late André the Giant help get them together after many amusing adventures. Don’t be surprised or offended if people call out their favorite lines (especially “My name is Inigo Montoya. You

killed my father. Prepare to die”), since this is a very informal, family-oriented series. Also stake out your places early on the relatively small lawn. It’s best to get takeout food first from one of the restaurants inside the Armory, then have a picnic while waiting for the movie to begin. Extra sweaters are also recommended after the sun goes down. Other titles screening Saturday nights through August 23 are Gravity, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, the recent Leo DiCaprio version of The Great Gatsby, and Star Trek Into Darkness. Seattle Center Mural Amphitheater,

Museum, 510 Bellevue Way N.E., 425-519-0770, bellevuearts.org & bellevuefest.org. Free. 9:30 a.m.–9 p.m. BRIAN MILLER

HAYLEY YOUNG

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

THUR | AUG 14 | 7PM

AUG 30

Movies at the Mural

TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX

LYNYRD SKYNYRD

SATURDAY, JULY 26

THR OU G H

SAYAKA ITO/BAM

S ERIE S

NG

Broadway, velocitydancecenter.org. $12–$18. 8 p.m. (Also Sat., 2 & 8 p.m.) SANDRA KURTZ

There are over 17,000 islands in the Indonesian archipelago, and almost as many different dances in that nation’s culture. From ancient classical works telling stories about the gods to contemporary hybrid forms, Indonesia’s dance tradition is older and more complex than many Western practices. Astrid Vinje, who was trained in Java and brought those traditions with her to the Northwest, will perform a variety of works in Malam Budaya: A Cultural Night of Indonesian Dance, along with colleagues Christina Sunardi and Hawwa Djuned. Langston Hughes Performance

Institute, 104 17th Ave. S., seattleindonesian dance.com. $5–$17. 6 p.m. SANDRA KURTZ E


» Performance Stage OPENINGS & EVENTS

ACT ONE-ACTS Shorts by Woody Allen, Steve Martin,

and Sam Shepard; R. Hamilton Wright directs. ACT Theatre, 700 Union St., 292-7676. $44 and up ($20 every Tues.) Previews July 23–24, opens July 25. Runs Tues.–Sun.; see acttheatre.org for exact schedule. Ends Aug. 17. THE AMISH PROJECT Jessica Dickey’s stage retelling of the 2006 Nickel Mines Amish schoolhouse shooting. Isaac Studio Theatre, 208 N. 85th St., 781-9707, taproot theatre.org. Opens July 24. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., 8 p.m. Fri., 2 & 8 p.m. Sat. Ends Aug. 9.

CURRENT RUNS

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS Seattle Public Theater’s Youth

Program presents Mary Zimmerman’s modern take on the epic myths. Bathhouse Theater on Green Lake, 7312 W. Green Lake Dr. N., 524-1300, seattlepublic theater.org. Donation. 7 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun., plus 2 p.m. Sat., July 26. Ends July 26.

ATTACK OF THE KILLER MURDER OF . . . DEATH

“Agatha Christie meets Roger Corman” in this mystery sendup, set on a movie set in 1958. Theater Schmeater, 2125 Third Ave., 800-838-3006, schmeater.org. $18–$25. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Sat. Ends Aug. 16. THE BOOK OF MORMON The touring production of the Broadway smash, from the creators of South Park, is back for a second visit, sure to sell out. The Paramount, 911 Pine St., 877-STG-4TIX. $45–$160. Runs Tues.–Sun.; see stgpresents.org for exact schedule. Ends Aug. 10. DISNEY’S THE JUNGLE BOOK KIDS A stage version of the Kipling-based animated musical. Emmanuel Episcopal Church, 4400 86th Ave. S.E., Mercer Island. $13–$15. 7 p.m. Fri–Sat., 2 p.m. Sun., plus some weekday morning matinees; see youththeatre.org for exact schedule. Ends July 27. GREENSTAGE Othello, Love’s Labours Lost, All’s Well That Ends Well, and The Comedy of Errors in various area parks through Aug. 16, all free. See greenstage. org for full schedule. JANE EYRE—THE MUSICAL Musical theater has had some success with neglected orphans (Annie, Oliver!), so an adaptation of Jane Eyre was probably inevitable. Charlotte Brontë’s 1847 novel is, after all, one of the earliest female coming-of-age tales ever told. This show, created by Paul Gordon and John Caird, premiered on Broadway 14 years ago, and it

might sound like a slog. Quite the opposite. Directed by Karen Lund, Taproot’s production moves quickly and seamlessly through Jane’s early tale of woe. The show focuses on our heroine’s middle period, after Jane is hired to work as a governess at the pleasure of apparent bachelor Edward Fairfax Rochester. Art Anderson’s Rochester is a manifold pleasure to behold. He sings well, commands the stage, and mugs with assurance. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for Jessica Spencer’s uneven performance as the grown Jane. (Abi Brittle plays defiant 10-year-old Jane.) Too often her Jane seems bewildered and lost in her moral and spiritual upheaval; it’s difficult to see the spark that draws Rochester. Even so, in the song “Painting Her Portrait,” Spencer gives a jaw-dropping performance, the seeds sown during Jane’s abusive childhood coming to fruition in a moving and frightening episode of self-doubt. MARK BAUMGARTEN Taproot Theatre, 204 N. 85th St., 781-9707, taproottheatre.org. $15–$40. 7:30 p.m. Wed.– Thurs., 8 p.m. Fri., 2 & 8 p.m. Sat. Ends Aug. 16. TEATRO ZINZANNI: WHEN SPARKS FLY Maestro Voronin headlines this mad-scientist-themed show. Teatro ZinZanni, 222 Mercer St., 802-0015. $99 and up. Runs Thurs.–Sun. plus some Wed.; see zinzanni.com/ seattle for exact schedule. Ends Sept. 21. TWELFE NIGHT, OR WHAT YOU WILL Cross-dressed love tangles in Illyria, via Bainbridge Performing Arts. Bloedel Reserve, 7571 N.E. Dolphin Dr., Bainbridge Island, 842-8569, bainbridgeperformingarts.org. 7 p.m. Thurs–Sun. Ends July 26. WISE GUYS Jet City Improv’s salute to mob movies. Historic University Theater, 5510 University Way N.E., jetcityimprov.com. $12–$15. 8 p.m. Thurs.–Fri. Ends Aug. 22. WOODEN O Again Seattle Shakespeare Company is committed to free outdoor productions of the Bard, and this summer’s offerings are The Two Gentlemen of Verona and Julius Caesar. For the former, director David Quicksall creates a milieu defined by greaser youths in denim and leather, jukeboxes, Coca-Cola, bowling, and anything that fits the tastes of midcentury America. Proteus (Jason Marr) and Valentine (Conner Neddersen) are best buds who spend their days joyriding through Verona. Proteus is in love with hula hoop-skirted Julia (Angelica Duncan). Fate splits the two friends as Valentine goes to serve in the court of the Duke of Milan (Jim Gall) and falls for his daughter Silvia. What ensues is a comedy of plotting, conniving, scheming, and cross-dressing, plus a clownish servant and his stoic dog. It’s a quirky, retro

ARTFUL EVENINGS Bumbershoot Artists Return to Chihuly Garden and Glass 6 - 7 PM every Wednesday through August .

CHIHULYGARDENANDGLASS.COM/ARTFUL-EVENINGS

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 26

The Emperor’s New Installation

EARSUPPLY

your definition of music; outside in a park, it’s just another place to sit. Is our universally beloved MacArthur “genius”-award winner, Guggenheim fellow, and upcoming Seattle Symphony collaborator due for a backlash? Among all the possible ways to combine sound-art and the environment, this one comes off as surprisingly perfunctory, despite the charm of the toy-piano music and the gadgetty whimsy of the funnel-and-seat contraptions. I don’t think he’s there yet, but Trimpin does seem at risk of becoming an aural Chihuly, making works that are fun, pretty, pointless, and celebrated primarily because his name is attached to them. Olympic Sculpture Park, 2901 Western Ave., seattleartmuseum.org. Open daily, sunrise–sunset. Ends Oct. 30.

Now–Aug 17

Buy tickets today or see it with an ACTPass!

(206) 292-7676 • acttheatre.org

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

GAVIN BORCHERT

Just up the Moseley Path from the Olympic Sculpture Park’s PACCAR Pavilion, Trimpin’s You Are Hear comprises three tractor seats embedded in a low concrete wall and three pairs of funnel-shaped headphones you put your head between while BY GAVIN BORCHERT seated, all in the same traffic-cone orange as Calder’s The Eagle looming over your shoulder. At the first listening station, you hear one of the musician/sculptor’s toy-piano pieces, the darting, tinkling fragments a happy sonic analogue to the industrious bumblebees busy nearby in a tall bank of weeds. The second offers what’s billed as a “sound structure” inspired by the sounds of nature. If you say so; unless it was somehow shut off the afternoon I visited, I heard no more than what you would if you held a conch shell to each ear. The third invites you, John Cage-style, to contemplate the ambient sounds of passersby and the traffic on Elliott Avenue below—i.e., it does nothing. Drop the same concept into a concert hall, and you’re seduced or jolted into a radical rethinking of

25


a&c» Performance » FROM PAGE 25 take on what some consider to be Shakespeare’s first play—and perhaps his weakest. Call it an experiment or rough draft; regardless, it’s still enjoyable. IRFAN SHARIFF As for Julius Caesar, directed by Vanessa Miller, this will be an all-female production, with Therese Diekhans as the doomed overreaching tyrant, Suzanne Bouchard as Brutus, and Amy Thone as Cassius. BRIAN MILLER Performance locations through Aug. 10 include Volunteer Park, Seattle Center, Lynnwood, Sammamish, Edmonds, and Des Moines; see seattleshakespeare.org for full schedule.

Dance

•YELLOW FISH A performance that lasts at least an

hour, but not longer than two days—these are the only real criteria for this collection of time-based artworks. The rest is up to a rotating cast (including Gender Tender, Mark Haim, Babette Pendleton McGeady, and Molly Sides), who will come and go for almost a month. Alice Gosti directs. SANDRA KURTZ See facebook. com/yellowfishfestival for full schedule through Aug. 2. STRICTLY SEATTLE SEE THE PICK LIST, PAGE 22. MALAM BUDAYA SEE THE PICK LIST, PAGE 22. CIRCADIA: A CELEBRATION OF LIFE, DEATH, AND RE-BIRTH From the chill of decay that begins in the

fall and peaks in the winter to the new life brought on by spring that thrives in summer’s heat, each season furthers the cycle of life. Presented by Rebel Belly Production, Circadia features dancers performing in celebration of that never-ending cycle. Columbia City Theater, 4918 Rainier Ave. S., 723-0088, columbiacity theater.com. $14–$18. 9 p.m. Fri., July 25. AZARIA C. PODPLESKY

Classical, Etc.

•SEATTLE CHAMBER MUSIC SOCIETY Recitals at 7

p.m., concerts at 8. Benaroya Recital Hall, Third Ave. & Union St., 283-8808, seattlechambermusic.org. Single tickets $48. Wed., July 23 Recital: Pianist Max Levinson plays Bartok’s Out of Doors suite. Concert: Schubert, Mendelssohn, and lots more songs. Fri., July 25 Recital: Pianist Inon Barnatan plays Schubert’s spacious Sonata in A major. Concert: More Schubert for piano (the Fantasy for four-hands), and trios by Dohnanyi and Beethoven. Mon., July 28 Recital: Violinist Andrew Wan plays Bach’s G-minor solo sonata. Concert: Schumann, Beethoven, Dvorak. Wed., July 30 At 7 p.m., a free outdoor concert (Mozart and Beethoven quintets) in Volunteer Park.

•AUBURN SYMPHONY SUMMER CONCERTS

Percussion music from Pacific Rims. Mary Olson Farm, 28728 Green River Rd., Auburn, auburn symphony.org. $10–$17. 7 p.m. Thurs., July 24.

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

SEATTLE GILBERT & SULLIVAN SOCIETY

26

JUN 19 – SEP 7 | SEATTLE ART MUSEUM GET TICKETS AT VISITSAM.ORG/MODERNISM This exhibition is organized by the Seattle Art Museum. Special exhibitions at SAM are made possible by donors to

Presenting Sponsor Moving Moments (detail), 1970, Mark Tobey, American, 1890–1976, oil on canvas, 62 x 38 in., Seattle Art Museum, Gift of the Marshall and Helen Hatch Collection, in honor of the 75th Anniversary of the Seattle Art Museum, 2009.52.78, © Mark Tobey / Seattle Art Museum, Photo: Susan Cole.

Celebrating its 60th anniversary with a new look at The Mikado, the show that inaugurated the company’s notso-brief career in 1954 (back when it was less controversial). Seattle Repertory Theatre, Seattle Center, 800838-3006, pattersong.org. $16–$40. 7:30 p.m. Fri.–Sat., 2 p.m. Sat.–Sun. Ends July 26. OLYMPIC MUSIC FESTIVAL Chamber-music favorites in a repurposed barn, 2 p.m. each Sat. & Sun. through Sept. 7. Next up, all-Mozart, including two of his generously proportioned string quintets. Quilcene, Wash., 360-732-4800, olympicmusicfestival.org. $18–$33. •OCTAVA CHAMBER ORCHESTRA New chamber music from OCO players. Maple Park Church. 17620 60th Ave. W., Lynnwood, octavachamberorchestra. com. $5–$15. 7:30 p.m. Sat., July 26. ARCO-PDX Ever think that classical concerts could be pretty awesome, if only you could talk during the music? Your prayers are answered. The Amplified Repertory Chamber Orchestra of Portland (of course!) plays music by C.P.E. Bach and Mike Hsu. LOUD. Nectar Lounge, 412 N. 36th St., arcopdx.com. $12–$15. 7 p.m. Sun., July 27. TUDOR CHOIR Renaissance and baroque works for double choir. Blessed Sacrament Church, 5041 Ninth Ave. N.E., 323-9415, tudorchoir.org. $20–$30. 7:30 p.m. Sun., July 27. 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 See seattleweekly.com for full listings. = Recommended


» Literary & Visual Arts Author Events

Openings & Events

JOE ABERCROMBIE Half a King begins his new Viking-

NIGHT In conjunction with SAAM’s ongoing • DECO Deco Japan show, special lectures and tours are held

themed fantasy series. University Book Store, 4326 University Way N.E., 634-3400, bookstore.washington.edu. 7 p.m. Weds., July 23.

JOHN DUVERNOY & SARAH FRAN WISBY

Duvernoy’s new poetry collection is Something in the Way/Obstruction Blues. Wisby also shares her verse. Elliott Bay Book Co., 1521 10th Ave., 624-6600, elliottbaybook.com. 7 p.m. Weds., July 23. YOUNG ADULT NW SUMMER BOOK TOUR On hand will be Nina Foxx (A Letter for My Mother), T.M. Franklin (How to Get Ainsley Bishop to Fall in Love With You), Ava O’Shay (Entrusted), and S.L. Whyte (Stelladaur: Finding Tir Na Nog). Third Place Books, 17171 Bothell Way N.E., 366-3333, thirdplacebooks. com. 7 p.m. Weds., July 23. (Also: University Book Store in Bellevue, 6 p.m. Tues., July 29.)

MATT BRIGGS, TREVOR DODGE & SARAH LIPPEK

From Portland, Dodge reads stories from his collection The Laws of Average. Also reading are locals Briggs (Virility Rituals of North American Teenage Boys) and Lippek (Complicity). Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Thurs., July 24. NICK JANS His A Wolf Called Romeo concerns an Alaskan community that adopted (or was adopted by) a roving black wolf. Eagle Harbor Books, 157 Winslow Way E. (Bainbridge Island), 842-5332, eagleharborbooks.com. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., July 24. ERIKA JOHANSEN The Queen of the Tearling is her new fantasy tome, full of sorcery and magic. Third Place, 7 p.m. Thurs., July 24. G. ELIZABETH KRETCHMER In the local writer’s debut novel, called The Damnable Legacy of a Minister’s Wife, a woman seeks to reunite a child given up for adoption, now an adult, with the birth mother. University Book Store (Bellevue), 990 102nd Ave. N.E., 425-462-4500, bookstore.washington.edu. 6 p.m. Thurs., July 24. DAVID ROSE Enchanted Objects: Design, Human Desire, and the Internet of Things is his new cultural-studies book. University Book Store, 7 p.m. Thurs., July 24. CHILDREN’S STORYTIME For ages two and up. Elliott Bay, noon, Sat., July 26. BARBARA HICKS Author of the children’s book series Frozen!, she’ll read at the Princess and Pirate Party being held in the mall’s Ben Bridge Court. Northgate Mall, 1 p.m. Sat., July 26. STACIE ZINN ROBERTS Her self-help guide is How to Live Your Passion & Fulfill Your Dreams. Third Place, 7 p.m. Sat., July 26. KENNETH BENNETT, CATHY CUENIN & LARRY WEINER Among these local authors, Bennett’s written

Ongoing

THE ART OF GAMAN The subtitle of this group show

reveals its sad starting point: Arts & Crafts From the Japanese-American Internment Camps, 1942–1946. Over 120 objects will be on view, many of them humble wood carvings, furniture, even toys made from scrap items at Minidoka or Manzanar. The more polished drawings come from professional artists like Ruth Asawa, Jimmy Tsutomu Mirikitani, Chiura Obata, and Henry Sugimoto. Some of the more touching items—like a samurai figurine made from wood scraps, shells, and bottle caps—come from family collections, not museums. Bellevue Arts Museum, 510 Bellevue Way N.E., 425-519-0770, bellevuearts. org, $8-$10, Tues.-Sun., 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Through Oct. 12. JOHN BUCK Wow. A carousel of history comes to Pioneer Square in Buck’s two massive, moving wooden machines (plus woodblock prints and bas relief carvings). The two central installations are Burrowed Time and Cat’s Cradle, both of them enormous, intricate meditations on colonialism, cartography, myth, and the golden age of discovery. This opening was the hit of last week’s First Thursday Art Walk. Bring the kids, take videos, but don’t touch. Greg Kucera Gallery, 212 Third Ave. S., 624-0770, gregkucera.com. 10:30 a.m. 5:30 p.m. Tues.-Sat. Ends Aug. 23. CHEN SHAOXIONG The contemporary Chinese artist shows new video works and their source drawings in the exhibit Ink. History. Media, which is inspired by historical photos of major events from 1909-2009. Seattle Asian Art Museum, $5-$7. Weds.-Sun., 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Through Oct. 19. DANISH MODERN: DESIGN FOR LIVING A survey of modern style Danish furniture from 1950-60. Nordic Heritage Museum, 3014 N.W. 67th St., 789-5707, nordicmuseum.org, $8, Tues.-Sun., 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Through Aug. 31. DECO JAPAN This is a somewhat unusual traveling show in that it comes from a single private collection: that of Florida’s Robert and Mary Levenson. The specificity and period (1920–1945) are also unusual. Among the roughly 200 items on view—prints, furniture, jewelry, etc.—we won’t be seeing the usual quaint cherry-blossom references to Japan’s hermetic past. By the ’20s, there was in the big cities a full awareness of Hollywood movies, European fashions, and streamlined design trends. For an urbane class of pleasure-seekers, necessarily moneyed, these were boom times. The luxe life meant imitating the West to a degree, yet there are also many traces of Japan’s ancient culture within these modern accessories. Seattle Asian Art Museum, ends Oct. 19. JAMES LEE HANSEN & IRENE KUBOTA Hansen shows sculptures in bronze; Kubota exhibits bright paintings that resemble cheerful quilts. Bryan Ohno Gallery, 521 S. Main St., 459-6857, bryanohno.com. Ends Aug. 23. HEAVEN & EARTH VI The Center on Contemporary Art (CoCA) presents its annual outdoor art show, which will surely fall victim to vandals this summer, just like its predecessors. That means you should download the walking map and go early, before any destruction occurs. This year’s theme is “As Above, So Below.” Artists participating are Teresa Burrelsman-Stern, Mary Coss, Elisa Berry Fonseca, Joshua Harker, Michael Todd Harrison, Terra Holcomb, Tom Hughes, Fred Lisaius, Lucy Mae Martin, Deanna Pindell, Ken Turner, and Allyce Wood. Carkeek Park, 950 Carkeek Park Rd., cocaseattle.org. Through Oct. 20.

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a locally set sci-fi adventure, Exodus 2022. Cuenin’s memoir of Alaska is The Way I Walk. And Weiner’s comic adventure Paradise Rot is set in the Caribbean. Eagle Harbor, 3 p.m. Sun. July 27. DANIEL JAMES BROWN New in paperback, the local author’s The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Olympics follows the UW crew team to Hitler’s Germany. Third Place, 7 p.m. Mon., July 28. TOBIAS BUCKELL Espionage and foul weather figure in his new thriller, called Hurricane Fever. University Book Store, 7 p.m. Mon., July 28. KRISTIN OHLSON She’ll discuss The Soil Will Save Us: How Scientists, Farmers, and Foodies Are Healing the Soil to Save the Planet. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Mon., July 28. SCOTT CHESHIRE His novel High as the Horses’ Bridles has a former child prodigy return to his evangelical family. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Tues., July 29. CLARION WEST SUMMER READING SERIES John Crowley is known for Engine Summer and Little, Big. Seattle Central Library, 1000 Fourth Ave., 386-4636, spl.org. 7 p.m. Tues., July 29. RICHELLE MEAD Her vampire novel series continues with Silver Shadows: A Bloodlines Novel. University Book Store, 7 p.m. Tues., July 29. ILONA ANDREWS Magic Breaks continues her Kate Daniels adventure series. University Book Store, 7 p.m. Weds., July 30. JAMES A. COLE He’ll discuss Drawing on Our History: Fishing Vessels of the Pacific Northwest and Alaska. Ballard Branch Library, 5614 22nd Ave. N.W., 6844089, spl.org. 6:30 p.m. Weds., July 30. MIRA JACOB Her debut novel, praised by Gary Shteyngart, is The Sleepwalker’s Guide to Dancing. Elliott Bay, 7 p.m. Weds., July 30.

inside the museum ($5-$7). Outside, popular music from the interwar period will precede Yasujiro Ozu’s 1931 silent comedy The Lady and the Beard, which is accompanied by a live benshi narrator (as was common in the day) and live music from the Aono Jikken Ensemble. Seattle Asian Art Museum, 1400 E. Prospect St. (Volunteer Park), 654-3100, seattleartmuseum.org. Free. 6:30-10:30 p.m. Fri., July 25. JEFFREY PALLADINI The Bay Area artist paints crisp summer scenes of bodies lounging in the sun—a little bit comic book, a little bit David Hockney. Lisa Harris Gallery, 1922 Pike Place, 443-3315, lisaharrisgallery. com. Opens July 29. Ends Aug. 30.

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arts&culture» Film SE AT TLE 4500 9th Ave. Ne • 206-633-0059

Time Is of the Essence

Richard Linklater talks about his acclaimed new Boyhood, 12 years in the making. BY BRIAN MILLER

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ichard Linklater has every reason to be proud of his latest movie, and he knows it. Visiting town in May for SIFF, the genial Austin, Texas, filmmaker was in the middle of a triumphant festival rollout for Boyhood (reviewed at right by Robert Horton), from Sundance to Berlin to South by Southwest. The film, made over 12 years as its lead actor ages before our eyes, has received uniformly great reviews. It’s already on my 10-best list for the year, and I think it’ll get—and it deserves—an Oscar nomination for Best Picture. (Linklater’s been nominated twice before, for cowriting Before Sunset and Before Midnight.) Is the movie, I ask Linklater, as much about the family of Mason (Ellar Coltrane) as a portrait of the growing individual? “It’s really from the boy’s perspective,” he says, “but I knew it’d encompass the family, the siblings, the parents. I knew it’d be all of the above. It can’t help but be about the family. You see how beholden we are, how intertwined we are, how dragged-through our parents’ lives we are, how much our siblings are in our worlds growing up.” Given the frequent moves and serial marriages of Mason’s mother (Patricia Arquette), the intermittent appearances of his father (Ethan Hawke), and the family’s economic uncertainty, is this a normal American family? “I think they’re pretty normal,” says Linklater. “They’re just getting by, lower working class, a typical struggling family. Probably the majority of our country is a lot closer to them than what we see represented quite a bit.” In a real and remembered sense, since we filmgoers have lived through the same dozen years of history, the economic stresses and background news events that affected us affect Mason, too. Shooting a few days each summer, Linklater recalls, “It was adapting to conditions. We started before the Iraq invasion. The Obama election of ’08—that comes up in real life, and I’m like, ‘Yeah, I want to work it in.’ That’s something you’re gonna remember. I didn’t know how it would end up. We did it before the election. I was personally hoping Obama would win. It was just an interesting moment, especially in a polarized place like Texas.” Time is fluid in Boyhood, which forgoes the usual coming-of-age milestones and melodrama. Linklater explains, “The tone of the film came to me in one big swoop. It would transition with no demarcation, no titles, no years, nothing. I wanted it to flow like a memory does. I think audiences will pick up the different times. You get your orientation.” Familiar songs reflect the passing years; we see a few news events on TV; and Harry Potter parties give way to iPhones and Facebook. It’s the latter touchstones that stick in a child’s mind, says Linklater, along with new houses, friends, and step-siblings. As for the wider world, a child “might not be informed, but you would be aware something was going on. Like I grew up when the Vietnam War was going on in the background, and I didn’t totally understand the politics of it. It’s just around.”

Linklater on the set in 2008, with no idea how the election (or his movie) would turn out.

Childhood is a kind of bubble in the movie, and it comes as shock to Mason each time his mother packs up for a different home or husband. “That just mirrors my own childhood,” says Linklater, whose own parents divorced. “You change towns, Mom gets a job . . . you don’t have much control as a kid. And you think, ‘Everything will stay the same, and we’ll still stay in touch.’ But you can’t, you don’t, especially at a young age. Life is a series of losses. You just go where the breeze takes your parents, whatever those circumstances are. You remember all that. In a way, that’s the narrative backbone of the film: the family moving and relocating and different family situations. It’s not really the essence, but it’s the structure.” That constant mutability—of Mason, of his family, of life in general—is an evident theme of Boyhood, which Linklater had mapped out from the start, he tells me. Still, with each year’s new filming, didn’t he have to adjust his writing to the times and aging cast? “I never saw it as a re-assessment,” he replies, “I just saw it as an ongoing process. This thing wasn’t like a film, it was like a living sculpture or something, a life project. This one demands kind of a leap of faith and a certain trust in the future. Kind of like in life: You will collaborate with it. Whatever it gives you, it’ll be something you have to deal with. We’re kind of control freaks by nature, film people. But we had to give that up and have some confidence that we’d deal with the way the kids in this were developing—and whatever else was going on in the culture. There’s just an ongoing collaboration there with time.”

Linklater still sounds enthusiastic about the long breaks (during which time he made other movies, including Bernie and Bad News Bears), citing “that year of gestation to think . . . to have that year to look at all the footage that we’d shot and edited, to think about all those relationships.” It’s a temporal experience that no other director (or viewer) has had, though there are parallels to the Seven Up! documentary series, and to watching Jean-Pierre Léaud grow up in the movies of François Truffaut. Linklater adds, “It was a huge luxury not to have a release date, to have no concerns other than [the movie] itself. It felt like a living cinematic time sculpture.” Did he ever have doubts about editing it down to shape—that Boyhood might end up a TV mini-series instead? “No. I knew the last shot of the movie. I knew that probably by the second year. I was always thinking of the big picture. With the first two sections edited together . . . it was like, ‘It’s working the way I wanted it to.’ And by six years, ‘OK, it’s all going as planned.’ I had enough time to think about it. I just believed in the strong central concept of the movie. “People would ask, ‘What happens in the movie?’ I would go ‘Not much.’ I didn’t have much to say. Because each scene is kind of banal. Each scene on its own wouldn’t fit into another movie. But I think there’s a cumulative effect that it would all add up. You would be invested in these people and accept their reality. It’s the ultimate sum being greater than the parts. But that’s how we feel about our own lives. As you get older, you really feel it, you have a perspective.” By 18, entering college, the character of Mason has gained some of that perspective on the small, significant moments we’ve seen before. “He’s kind of got it figured out,” says Linklater. “He’s had his little revelations. He’s viewing the world kind of skeptically, and he’s thinking for himself.” Before then, it’s all flux and childish (and adolescent) impressions for Mason—a life in transition, never settled. “That’s just how it felt being that age,” says Linklater. “I remember you were in a constant state of becoming. Everything you’re doing is for some future purpose. You’re in school to get smart and learn. You’re eating healthy so you can grow and your brain works well. Everything has a purpose other than itself, if seems. That’s what the world is throwing at you.” Significantly, that long gestation process for Mason’s near-adult personhood leaves him at about the same age as his screen parents were when their son was born (and about the same age as Hawke in Before Sunrise). The loop is closed in a way. After that, says Linklater, “A new hand is dealt you in adulthood that you can’t really imagine.” Moviegoers now the age of Hawke and Arquette, some of them parents, will see Boyhood quite differently than their kids or millennial viewers closer to Coltrane’s age. “It’s a very different experience as an adult watching the movie,” says Linklater. “Time and history are so relative. What’s recent to us is a lifetime to them.” E bmiller@seattleweekly.com


TickeTs available aT www.cinerama.com Still, it’s quietly radical. Linklater’s films are almost always nudging us to watch movies in a different way, from the unusually structured Slacker and the Before Sunrise trilogy to the antinostalgia of Dazed and Confused. By all means, enjoy this movie for its evocation of childhood, but let’s also appreciate how Linklater calls for us to reimagine how we might treat movies and childhood: less judgment, less organization, more daydreaming. ROBERT HORTON

Opening ThisWeek PBoyhood OPENS FRI., JULY 25 AT HARVARD EXIT AND LINCOLN SQUARE. RATED R. 164 MINUTES.

The title Boyhood suggests something definitive, perhaps even a statement on the essential nature of growing up. Which is not at all what this movie is. Made up of stray moments, occasional bits of melodrama, and a gentle sense of time drifting by, the film is much better represented by its working title: 12 Years. Nothing grand about that, just a description of the awkward age of life. (Writer/director Richard Linklater decided to go with Boyhood after 12 Years a Slave came into the world.)

PCannibal RUNS FRI., JULY 25–THURS., JULY 30 AT NORTHWEST FILM FORUM.

Carlos (de la Torre) inspects his work.

FILM MOVEMENT

NOT RATED. 116 MINUTES. MATT LANKES/IFC FILMS

The itinerant father (Hawke) and his kids (Lorelei Linklater and Ellar Coltrane, then age 9).

ROBERT HORTON

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 30

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12 Years would’ve also been shorthand for the film’s making. It was shot in the director’s native Texas in short bursts over a 12-year period— Linklater knew the shape of the film, but would tweak its script as time marched on, incorporating topical issues and reacting to his performers. This means that unlike most movies, which remake the world and impose an order on it, Boyhood reacts to the world; as 21st-century history and its actors’ personalities evolve, the movie is changed by those things. This isn’t just an interesting experiment, but a philosophical position: Protagonist Mason (Ellar Coltrane), tracked from first grade to high-school graduation, is learning that life does not fit into the pleasing rise and fall of a three-act structure, but is doled out in unpredictable fits and starts. So what’s it about? (Other than about 164 minutes—the length is crucial, and almost unnoticed.) We meet Mason daydreaming in a backyard, his parents having recently separated; the broken marriage will linger as a fact of life. His journey through the school years is sometimes bumpy, sometimes mundane. Linklater doesn’t reject melodrama so much as politely declines it, opting instead for little grace notes and revealing encounters. Patricia Arquette and Ethan Hawke are terrific as the parents, and Linklater’s daughter Lorelei is distinctive as Mason’s older sister. Other folks come and go, like people do. Nothing alerts us to the fact that another year has passed, unless we notice changes in haircuts. As we reach the final stages, there’s definitely a sense of rounding off the story, and a few appropriate nods toward lessons learned—the movie’s not as shapeless as it might seem.

Most of the conventional horror is contained in the first 10 minutes. A surgically precise evocation of a lonely gas station at night gives way to reveal someone stalking a driver and passenger. A deliberate crash ensues. A dead woman is taken to a mountain cabin, where the stalker selects a knife from his collection and goes to work. Back home in Granada (this is a Spanish film), the killer fills his refrigerator with the outcome of the murder—the prime cuts stacked in rows. The movie is called Cannibal, after all. After this terrifying opening, Manuel Martín Cuenca’s film remains a minimalist affair, cued to the deadpan central performance by Antonio de la Torre (the bisexual pilot from Almodóvar’s I’m So Excited!). He plays Carlos, a meticulous old-school tailor whose skill at cutting suits is matched by his precision at—well, you know. His nosy neighbor (Olimpia Melinte) asks one too many personal questions and abruptly disappears, after possibly finding out too much about Carlos’ fridge. We assume Carlos has done his thing. Then her sister Nina (also played by Melinte) arrives to investigate, a process Carlos goes out of his way to aid. Nina is unique enough to sway Carlos away from his fear of women, at least for a while. This cannibal-meets-girl setup is just a little too tidy to take flight as a really original idea, but Cuenca’s control as a filmmaker turns Cannibal into a thoroughly engrossing experience anyway. The film is so beautifully lit and framed that it’s almost as though Carlos is calling the shots, creating a movie world in which everything fits neatly into place. Eventually Carlos and Nina will drive up to the mountain cabin, and he will begin eyeing his knives. But Cuenca has an intriguing final act prepared, and he doesn’t push us to settle on a single metaphorical meaning for Carlos’ cannibalism—we can make of it what we will. It’s definitely not presented as part of the sophistication of an antihero we might come to root for, as the various screen depictions of our old flesheating friend Hannibal Lecter have sometimes been guilty of doing. No, this cannibal we do not root for—although eventually we might feel pity.

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“ELECTRIFYING!” -THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

Bad doctors, in social settings, brag about their jobs. The good ones are less self-aggrandizing, so it’s not initially obvious how to approach Dr. Ryan McGarry’s five-year documentary study of the Los Angeles County Hospital ER where he and his fellow residents arduously trained. That these people are idealistic, hardworking, well-spoken, and rather photogenic shows some healthy self-regard, but McGarry’s lens is wider than that. He wants to say something about the current state of post-ACA healthcare in America, rather like last year’s doc The Waiting Room, set in an Oakland ER. However, what that something is, much less its timeframe—starting before and finishing after Obamacare?—is never clearly established. We get personalities and anecdotes, but not much data, especially when it comes to costs. Still, when you’re helicoptered into “C Booth” (as this ER is dubbed, for reasons never explained) with gunshot wounds or broken limbs from a car wreck, it’s medical quality you care about, not costs. Mentored by their sage old Yoda figures (equivalent to Harborview’s Dr. Michael Copass), McGarry and company swiftly intubate patients, stuff their hands into gaping wounds, and do what they can to stop bleeding. We watch some patients live and others die, the social safety net in action, our tax dollars at work. It’s controlled chaos, where physicians are permitted to improvise on the fly. If you loved the old reality TV show Trauma: Life in the ER or any medical procedural drama, Code Black will likewise appeal. Then, at some point during McGarry’s long project, a new hospital is built and new procedures are implemented. He and his colleagues complain about the paperwork, the constant computer data entry, the new distance from their patients. “The day of the cowboy is gone,” laments one senior MD. But again, we’re never told when or by whom these regulations have been imposed. Are they to save money or limit liability? This is a public hospital that by law must serve all comers, meaning that “This is a place where you get to work twice as hard for half-price,” as one of McGarry’s superiors puts it. The younger physicians seem to favor a single-payer system, but that debate is past. Code Black is admirably focused as a tribute to a noble profession, but some political context and outside perspective would help McGarry’s diagnosis. “Healthcare seems so broken,” he says by way of a conclusion. Even if McGarry disagrees with their prescription (repeal!), you’ll hear Republicans saying the same thing for the next two years. BRIAN MILLER

I Origins OPENS FRI., JULY 25 AT MERIDIAN AND SUNDANCE. RATED R. 113 MINUTES.

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It begins as a science thriller: Researchers narrow in on absolute proof that the eye evolved in nature. Such confirmation would give the lie to creationists who sometimes use the complexity of the eye as evidence for an “intelligent designer,” which is another way of saying God. Alas, I Origins has more than science on its mind—it wants to pick fruit from The

FOX SEARCHLIGHT

Code Black

Tree of Life and other such exercises in magical hugger-mugger. Molecular biologist Ian Gray (Michael Pitt, from Last Days) and his gifted intern Karen (Brit Marling) do the lab work; meanwhile, the supremely rational Ian indulges in a whirlwind affair with exotic Sofi (Astrid Bergès-Frisbey). She has uniquely patterned eyes, European manners, and beaucoup de hotness, so he is forgiven for tossing aside his usual scholarly method. A drastic plot twist jumps us forward seven years, and once again the rationalists are forced to examine their atheistic beliefs—as they so often are in movies.

Science gives way to spiritualism: Marling and Pitt.

Although I found all this to be fundamentally silly, I should say that writer/director Mike Cahill is clearly a talented filmmaker; his 2011 debut Another Earth was shaky on the sci-fi but genuinely haunting nonetheless. Here the hothouse world of super-focused scientists is convincing, and the staging of the sequence where Ian relocates Sofi (through a series of mystical coincidences) is technically accomplished. Pitt has matured into a leading-man presence, and Marling—the star and co-writer of Another Earth—is fittingly brainy, and also lighter and looser than she was in that previous film. If Cahill applied his skills to a movie that didn’t strain quite so hard to be significant, he could make a crackling genre picture. The longer I Origins goes on, the more it encourages eye-rolling. Along with its obligatory journey to India and its theological ponderings, the film also presents a sequence with a grown man picking up a child on a foreign street and taking her alone to his hotel room—we know his purposes are innocent, but somebody hasn’t thought through the optics here. And speaking of optics, the title I Origins is, I fear, meant to be a pun on “eye,” which reduces the film’s metaphysical ideas to a glib play on words. So the movie has the title it deserves. ROBERT HORTON

A Most Wanted Man OPENS FRI., JULY 25 AT SEVEN GABLES, OAK TREE, AND PACIFIC PLACE. RATED R. 121 MINUTES.

When Philip Seymour Hoffman died in February, he had several films half-completed or in the can. Their quality, as it is for any actor, even the Oscar-winning elite, is always going to be variable. A star performer can only dictate so much of the show, though this adaptation of a lesser 2008 John le Carré novel will, I think, be remembered as the best among Hoffman’s posthumous releases. Directed by the very deliberate Dutch photographer-turned-filmmaker Anton Corbijn (Control, The American), A Most Wanted Man is a fatigued and belated picture—and I mean that as praise. It’s post-spy movie, post-Cold War, post-9/11. Hoffman plays a rumpled Hamburg cop, Bachmann,

» CONTINUED ON PAGE 32


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Richard Linklater

32

Hoffman’s cop has reason to distrust his superiors.

with failures in his past, who’s charged with the dirty work of counter-terrorism. There are no press conferences or posh U.N. cocktail parties for this schlub, who’s like a German variant on Lieutenant Frank Columbo: disrespected by his bosses, underestimated by his quarry, beloved by his team, but a wry, sad, solitary figure who expects the worst outcome from any investigation. Bachmann is a pessimist and alcoholic who listens to Beethoven late at night on his stereo, alone. Crawling out of the Elbe, like a rat, is a RussianChechen Muslim we’ll come to know as Karpov (Grigory Dobrygin), though he has other names. Bachmann and his squad (including Continental all-stars Daniel Brühl and Nina Hoss) follow Karpov intently without arresting him, hoping he’ll lead to bigger fish. His bosses are dubious; a separate, rival German intelligence agency interferes; and he’s even got to negotiate with the CIA—represented in butch slacks and blonde buzz-cut by Robin Wright—to allow Karpov room to roam. (Here Rachel McAdams shows up as a naïve, sympathetic human-rights lawyer—riding a bike, of course.) Will Karpov plant a bomb in the rushhour subway or lead Bachmann to an important al-Qaida funding link? Related within a few days’ time and surveillance, that’s the essential plot. Gadgets don’t agree with the genius of le Carré. If intelligence can simply be gathered by satellite, computer, and wi-fi, what’s the point of the face-to-face deceptions and codes of spycraft? The recent Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was a much better movie as it evoked the old, analog Cold War; unreliable technology meant that human relationships, and betrayals, were paramount. Hoffman would’ve been a better fit in that bygone world of smoky negotiation and curdled compromise. In The New York Times last week, le Carré said as much, calling him “the only American actor I knew who could play my character George Smiley.” Carve those words in granite. I’ll most remember Hoffman from this movie in a brief scene, set on a ferry, where Bachmann tries to keep a nervous young Muslim informant in the fold. The kid is scared, understandably, and Bachmann agrees with his every complaint. But then Hoffman, the actor, leans in like a lead shield. He absorbs all the tsuris of the younger performer (Mehdi Dehbi) like a sin-eater, hugs him, and keeps the invaluable source intact. It’s all in a day’s work for Bachmann, but for Hoffman, too, there must’ve been costs. BRIAN MILLER

The Pleasures of Being Out of Step RUNS FRI., JULY 25–THURS., JULY 31 AT GRAND ILLUSION. NOT RATED. 86 MINUTES.

SPECIAL ENGAGEMENTS

START FRIDAY, JULY 25

SEATTLE WEEKLY

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Now 89, Nat Hentoff is the very definition of a living anachronism. An East Coast Jew who came of age during the postwar era, he earned his early journalistic reputation for his astute jazz criticism in Downbeat magazine. Later he began writing

political commentary for the then-nascent Village Voice, from which he was unceremoniously booted in 2008 when the paper shifted its focus to the less-contemplative mode of digital journalism. As is made clear in David L. Lewis’ probing documentary, filled with archival interviews, jazz performances, and talking heads, Hentoff was always an iconoclast—a man willing to challenge the dominant narratives (whether political or musical), often redefining them in the process. In an early interview, the young, foreverbearded Hentoff disabuses his interlocutor of the jazz mythology perpetuated by the Beat writers of the time. He argues that the great artists of the age—Charlie Byrd, Thelonious Monk, Max Roach, et al.—were not wild men pulling genius from the ether, but studied practitioners birthing a new art form. That appreciation, and his eloquence in expressing it, earned Hentoff respect from the many African-American musicians who viewed him as one of the few white men they could converse with. As a result, Hentoff was employed to write liner notes for some of the era’s great albums, almost single-handedly turning that form into its own literary category. Read by narrator Andre Braugher (Brooklyn Nine-Nine), those notes reveal Hentoff ’s genius and give the doc its poetic heart. BOB PARENT/FIRST RUN FEATURES

SHOWTIMES JULY 25 - 31

KERRY BROWN/ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS

» FROM PAGE 30

Hentoff (left) with clarinet player Edmond Hall in 1948.

But his genius is more complicated than that, and Lewis isn’t shy about delving into the more controversial aspects of Hentoff ’s character. At the staunchly liberal Voice, his unwavering First Amendment views famously set him in conflict with readers and editors, particularly when defending Chicago Nazis’ right to parade in Skokie, Illinois, in 1977. As we see here, some of his acolytes were persuaded. Others were simply offended. This polarization continued as Hentoff became more of a libertarian and pro-life absolutist. “You just print bullshit,” former Voice editor Karen Durbin recalls telling him, “and it’s anti-woman.” It would be impossible to profile this confounding writer without this unvarnished approach, and thankfully Lewis pulls no punches. What we are left with is not the hagiography of a hallowed writer, but a complex story of a thinking man who eschewed the prevailing ideology for his own sense of truth, no matter how unpopular. Like I said, an anachronism. MARK BAUMGARTEN

PSiddharth OPENS FRI., JULY 25 AT VARSITY. NOT RATED. 97 MINUTES.

A child goes missing, and his father sets out to find him. There’s a plot older than The Searchers, as ancient as mythology and folkore. Filming on the streets of modern-day Delhi and Bombay, Canadian director Richie Mehta combines elements both old and new as Mahendra (Rajesh Tailang) is forced on a desperate rescue mission. In the very first scene, we see 12-year-old Siddharth packed


Follow us! scrap of paper will lead her husband first to the Punjab, then finally south to Bombay. It’s a journey he can’t afford, and gathering a financial stake takes anguished weeks. Mahendra reluctantly accepts cash from his colleagues in the zipper trade and carefully rebuffs the overture of a moneylender. Gangsters may have taken his son for slave labor, sex trafficking, or maimingand-begging on the streets; and they could inflict still more harm on his family. Mehta based his script on an actual incident, when a poor stranger asked him about a possibly nonexistant place called “Dongri,” where stolen children were supposedly taken. So too does Mahendra ask as he plies his trade in the bustling, indifferent city. We might think, like Mehta, that Dongri is merely urban folklore, the dark analogue of Neverland in Peter Pan. Then, in one of the quietly powerful and notquite-despairing moments that characterize this fine film, Mahendra receives confirmation from a customer. Fixing her zippered handbag, he politely asks if she’s ever heard of Dongri; she types it into her iPhone. It’s in Bombay, she tells him, giving him the coordinates. For at least a little while longer, Siddharth gives Mahendra, and us, the small consolation of hope. BRIAN MILLER E

onto a bus, headed north to the Punjab, where his mother’s brother-in-law has found him a job in a factory. When Mahendra goes home, we understand why this child labor is necessary: The Saini family is poor, living in a single concrete walled room, with a small daughter to support. Mahendra is a “chain wallah,” a guy who walks the streets like a tinker, repairing zippers for a few rupees a day. He’s evidently illiterate, and this is the only skill he’s got. His wife Suman (Tannishtha Chatterjee) meanwhile does laundry, and the whole family gathers in delight when Siddharth calls their cell phone—their most precious household item, paid by the minute—to report he’s arrived safely. Months later, however, he fails to return for a scheduled visit. Where’s the factory? Who runs it? How can Mahendra find the owner? With no money and no connections, he becomes an intrepid but overmatched detective. Here’s where technology—and India’s bureaucracy—begins to fail, and the cruel codes of caste and feudal obligation assert themselves. The more prosperous brother-in-law, it emerges, had ulterior motives in apprenticing Siddharth to a distant cousin. Suman, eyeing the pink basin that betokens indoor plumbing, which her family lacks, angrily rips the address page out of his planner: This

instagram.com/ 206.324.9996 siff.net

NOW SERVING

BEER & WINE!

NOW PLAYING

TRUTH IS THE HARDEST FLAME TO EXTINGUISH

Fri July 25 – Thu July 31

THE UPTOWN Bong Joon-ho’s

SNOWPIERCER DAWN OF THE PLANET OF THE APES (2D) Encore screenings!

A HARD DAY’S NIGHT Mon July 28 | Recent Raves

VISITORS

FILM CENTER

OPENS JULY 25 | SIFF CINEMA UPTOWN

Sun July 27 | DocBrunch

BURNING BUSH

DEEPSOUTH followed by Skype Q&A with the director The Magnificent Andersons Tue July 29 | Double Feature

DIRECTED BY ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE AGNIESZKA HOLLAND

THE FANTASTIC MR. FOX MOONRISE KINGDOM

SIFF CINEMA UPTOWN | 511 Queen Anne Ave N SIFF FILM CENTER | Seattle Center NW Rooms

Wed July 30

THE MASTER

film@seattleweekly.com

“The Charmer Of The Year. A Masterclass In Acting. Douglas & Keaton Are Great. One Of Reiner’s Best!” Dean Richards, WGN-TV/CHICAGO

“A tense, twisty And terrific spy thriller.

philip seymour hoffmAn is simply mAgnificent...A mAster clAss in Acting.” peter travers,

“philip seymour hoffmAn is brilliAnt... A tAutly directed, clAustrophobic thriller.”

“Douglas And Keaton Are In Fine Form, And Rob Reiner Delivers The Laughs, Both Behind And In Front Of The Camera.”

Kenneth turan,

Ken Johnson, KXPT-FM

RACHEL

WILLEM

Mike Sargent, ARISE.TV

ROBIN

AND

WRIGHT

select engAgements stArt fridAy, July 25 Bellevue Cinemark Lincoln Square Cinemas (800) fANDANGO #2172

lynnwood Seattle Seattle Seattle AMC Loews AMC Loews AMC Pacific Landmark’s Seven Alderwood Mall 16 Oak Tree 6 Place 11 Gables Theatre (888) AMC-4fUN (888) AMC-4fUN (888) AMC-4fUN (206) 632-8821 CHECK DIRECTORIES fOR SHOWTIMES • NO PASSES ACCEPTED

tukwila Regal Parkway Plaza Stadium 12 (800) fANDANGO #429

STARTS FRIDAY, JULY 25 AT THEATRES EVERYWHERE! CHECK DIRECTORIES FOR SHOWTIMES • NO PASSES ACCEPTED

SEATTLE WEEKLY

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

PHILIP

SEYMOUR HOFFMAN MCADAMS DAFOE

“Like Fine Wine, Keaton, Douglas And Reiner Just Get Better Over Time.”

33


arts&culture» Film 17TH ANNUAL

Opening THE BURNING BUSH From Polish director Agnieszka

Holland, this is a 240-minute epic that follows the turmoil in Czechoslovakia after the Prague Spring and Soviet crackdown. (NR) SIFF Cinema Uptown, 511 Queen Anne Ave. N., 324-9996, siff.net. $6-$11. Fri.-Thurs.

Local & Repertory FOR LAUGHING OUT LOUD From 1937, True

THE HIGHLIGHT OF YOUR SUMMER...

MAYBE YOUR LIFE!

TM

NEEDTOBREATHE, SWITCHFOOT, NEWSBOYS, THOUSAND FOOT KRUTCH, FAMILY FORCE 5, SCOTT STAPP, SHAWN MCDONALD, BRITT NICOLE, MARK DRISCOLL, ANDREW PALAU, MIKE SILVA, REID SAUNDERS, AND MANY MORE!

NORTHWEST

TRI-CITIES, WA JULY 30TH-AUG 2ND

Confession stars Carole Lombard and Fred MacMurray in a somewhat unlikely comedy about a murder trial. Lombard’s the suspect, MacMurray’s her lawyer and her husband. With John Barrymore. (NR) Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 654-3121, seattleartmuseum.org. $8 individual, $42-$45 series. 7:30 p.m. Thurs. Ends. Aug. 14. FREMONT OUTDOOR MOVIES On Friday, Wes Anderson’s droll 1998 comedy Rushmore screens. On Saturday, presented by Three Dollar Bill Cinema, the 2001 raunch-com Wet Hot American Summer will be a 21-and-over screening, meaning booze. (R) 3501 Phinney Ave. N., 781-4230, fremontoutdoormovies. com. $30 series, $5 individual. Movies start at dusk. JAWS Let us revisit the greatest summer movie ever made: Jaws, which became the top-grossing film of all time (not allowing for inflation) after its June 1975 release. When pitched Peter Benchley’s novel, the 28-year-old director Steven Spielberg realized, “This is kind of a sequel to Duel!” In place of the marauding big rig, a marauding shark. In place of the small car piloted by Dennis Weaver, we have the famously too-small boat containing Robert Shaw, Roy Scheider, and Richard Dreyfuss. The constant, of course, is the fear of a larger, more powerful adversary whose elusive presence is more felt—thanks to John Williams’ rumbling ostinato—than seen. Everyone’s vainly scanning the horizon in Jaws, staring into the water and looking through binoculars. Spielberg may be a master of spectacle, but its opposite is the terrifying lack of visual information, the malevolent unseen. (PG-13) BRIAN MILLER Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 6866684, central-cinema.com. $6-$8. 7 p.m. Fri.-Tues. & 3 p.m. Sat./Sun. THE MAGNIFICENT ANDERSONS On Weds., July 23, we have Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2007 There Will Be Blood, which earned the terrifying Daniel DayLewis an Oscar. Next Tues., July 29 is Wes Anderson’s 2009 stop-motion movie The Fantastic Mr. Fox, with an additional 9 p.m. screening of Moonrise Kingdom. The series ends Weds., July 30 with PTA’s 2012 The Master, starring the late, great Philip Seymour Hoffman. (R) SIFF Film Center, $6-$11. 7 p.m. Tues. & Weds. MOONLIGHT CINEMA The Hangover proved a huge hit in 2009, though two lame sequels did tarnish the original’s reputation. As you know, Zach Galifianakis, Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, and company try to reconstruct what happened during a long night of debauchery in Las Vegas. With a memorable supporting turn by Ken Jeong. (R) Redhook Ale Brewery, 14300 N.E. 145th St. (Woodinville), 425-420-1113. $5. 21 and over. Thursdays. Movie starts at dusk. MOVIES AT MAGNUSON PARK The magnificent Gravity, which earned director Alfonso Cuarón an Oscar, will probably here be presented in its 2-D iteration, which will diminish the spectacle. Still, as George Clooney and Sandra Bullock are stranded in orbit, menaced by regular bombardments of space debris, the panicked breathing and frantic radio calls provide the human pulse to the terrifying scene, as bullet-speed space garbage cascades upon the shuttle and its fragile crew. For all its technical marvels and breathtaking panoramas reflected in Bullock’s visor, Gravity is a very compact and task-oriented picture. It’s both space-age and hugely traditional, though with a modern, selfaware heroine. (PG-13) B.R.M. Magnuson Park, 7400 Sand Point Way N.E., moviesatmagnuson.com. $5. Thursdays. 7 p.m. POINT BREAK Ah, take us back to a simpler pre-Matrix Keanu era, as Reeves plays an uptight FBI man in Kathryn Bigelow’s sun-washed, Zen-infused 1991 police procedural. He goes undercover as a surfer to infiltrate the gang of daredevil thieves led by Patrick Swayze. No amount of plot description can quite capture the zany action charm of this SoCal document of its extreme-sports times. (Bigelow’s then hubby, James Cameron, had a finger in the film’s thrills and pacing.) And it’s hard not to like a film that lets Swayze make like Yoda, uttering such classic lines as “Fear causes hesitation, and hesitation will cause your worst fears to come true.” Dude, that is so right. (NR) B.R.M. Central Cinema, $6-$8. 9:30 p.m. Fri.-Weds.

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

34

NEXT K! E E W

REGISTER TODAY AT CREATIONFEST.COM OR CALL 800-327-6921

THIS IS YOUR VCR ON DRUGS Scarecrow presents a

compendium of psychedelic oddities from its hallowed vaults. (NR) Grand Illusion, 1403 N.E. 50th St., 5233935, grandillusioncinema.org. $5-$8. 9 p.m. Thurs. VISITORS Shot in super-high-def black-and-white digital video, this is the latest state-of-the world doc from Godfrey Reggio (Koyaanisqatsi, etc.), and he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. He also doesn’t like how we’re seeing the world, which increasingly means small, flat screens held in our hands and laps. Absent any narration, as usual for Reggio, the film presents a succession of somber images that eventually settles into cliché: a gorilla’s face, a giant hand manipulating a computer mouse, sports fans watching a game in slo-mo, a mangrove swamp, an albino posed between two black people (yes, really), the lunar surface, a New Orleans cemetery, and so on. (NR) B.R.M. SIFF Cinema Uptown, $6-$11. 7 p.m. Mon.

Ongoing

• EDGE OF TOMORROW Earth has been invaded by

space aliens, and Europe is already lost. Though no combat veteran, Major Bill Cage (Tom Cruise) is thrust into a kind of second D-Day landing on the beaches of France, where he is promptly killed in battle. Yes, 15 minutes into the movie Tom Cruise is dead—but this presents no special problem for Edge of Tomorrow. In fact it’s crucial to the plot. The sci-fi hook of this movie, adapted from a novel by Hiroshi Sakurazaka, is that during his demise Cage absorbed alien blood that makes him time-jump back to the day before the invasion. He keeps getting killed, but each time he wakes up he learns a little more about how to fight the aliens and how to keep a heroic fellow combatant (Emily Blunt) alive. It must be said here that Cruise plays this exactly right: You can see his exhaustion and impatience with certain scenes even when it’s our first time viewing them. Oh, yeah—he’s been here before. There’s absurdity built into this lunatic set-up, and director Doug Liman—he did the first Bourne picture—understands the humor of a guy who repeatedly gets killed for the good of mankind. (PG-13) ROBERT HORTON Sundance, others A HARD DAY’S NIGHT The music business is fond of remastering old tracks and selling us new versions of familiar songs. You get that, plus a full visual restoration, in this 50th-anniversary edition of A Hard Day’s Night. Beatlemania was famously launched in the U.S. with the band’s February 1964 appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show and mini-tour. Returning to the States that summer, the Beatles played Seattle on August 21, their third stop on a 23-city tour. But what if you weren’t lucky enough to live in one of those cities? That’s what A Hard Day’s Night, cannily released in August (with the eponymous album), was all about. It’s both a genius marketing device and an enjoyably shaggy comedy-with-music. Never mind that John, Paul, George, and Ringo were the somewhatmanufactured roles devised by Brian Epstein; A Hard Day’s Night gave these characters room to roam. (NR) B.R.M. SIFF Cinema Uptown, SIFF Film Center SEX TAPE Despite the title, this marital comedy is a surprisingly tame affair, and fans expecting Jason Segel to again drop trou will be disappointed. He and Cameron Diaz haven’t got the same antagonistic chemistry displayed in Bad Teacher (a sequel is said to be in the works). There’s not enough sex, and the tape unspools too slowly. It takes 30 minutes for these tired, suburban parents to drunkenly film every position in The Joy of Sex. Not until the movie’s midpoint do they discover their video has accidentally been synced on a half-dozen iPads that Segel’s gifted away (to Diaz’s mom, her boss, friends, etc.). Anyone entering the theater already knows the plot, and that’s where Sex Tape ought to begin: with the frantic recovery effort. Apart from pacing, the pursuit becomes a journey into the heart of blandness. Not even a coked-up Rob Lowe, with Slayer blaring and tramp stamp on his back, can send the film into the wild adventure we want. Instead of an urgent screwball comedy, director Jake Kasdan and his writers keep steering the plot back to mundane marriage-counseling mode, as if we’re seriously concerned that bond will break—especially with two cute kids, who save their parents from an ominous porn magnate (cameo alert). Technology, not sex, is their real undoing. Segel wails that “nobody understands the cloud!,” and plenty of viewers will know the same shame. (R) B.R.M. Sundance, Bainbridge, others

BY B R IA N M I LLE R

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


» Music

2014 Mt. Hood Jazz Festival

Presidential Punk

FRIDAY EVENING, AUGUST 1 ROUND ROBIN JAZZ in Historic Downtown

The slow, steady assault of folk-punk act Andrew Jackson Jihad.

Gresham Locations, talent TBA, no cover

SATURDAY, AUGUST 2 CENTER FOR ARTS PLAZA

BY DAVE LAKE

401 NE 2nd Avenue, Gresham

12:00-1:00

BACK TO PORTLAND ALL-STARS 1:15-3:15

BOBBY TORRES ENSEMBLE

PRESENTING SPONSOR

3:30-5:30

BILLY HAYNES

SPONSORS

5:45-7:45

PETE CHRISTLIEB/LINDA SMALL QUINTET 8:00-10:00

SOULCITY

LISA JOHNSON

I

sustain a life on the road. “As we went back to places,” Gallaty says, “there were more and more people each time, which made it easy to keep doing it.” The bassist estimates that his band has toured the West Coast alone about a dozen times—in the process finding fans like Frank Turner and Lara Jane Grace of Against Me!, who have taken AJJ on tour, which in turn helped build its following. The band’s fifth LP, Christmas Island, released in

May, was its first for Los Angeles indie imprint SideOneDummy (after it outgrew former label Asian Man), and was paid for with money earned on the road. But don’t let the title fool you; not a holiday album, it’s named for the Australian territory that’s become a popular destination for asylum-seekers. Christmas Island was produced by St. Vincent’s longtime producer John Congleton, who suggested AJJ make a brutal acoustic record—like the debut of Violent Femmes— using as few non-acoustic instruments as possible. The resulting dozen songs are the band’s most enjoyable to date, an eclectic patchwork that comforts and confuses, soothes and enflames. After all, not too many bands can namedrop Linda Ronstadt and Man Is the Bastard in the same set. The album’s cover evidences a similar eclecticism: a multimedia collage featuring pulled teeth, marbles, puppies, and scorpions. But therein lies AJJ’s beating heart—what makes the band such an intriguing act, both on record and live. Just as you’re feeling all warm and cuddly, it throws a blanket over your head and kicks you in the shins, which somehow leaves you wanting more—which is why the next time the band is in town, you’ll bring a few friends, and so on and so on, until it’s outgrown El Corazón as well. E

music@seattleweekly.com

ANDREW JACKSON JIHAD With Hard Girls, Dogbreth. El Corazón, 109 Eastlake Ave. E., 262-0482, elcorazonseattle.com. $15 adv./$17 DOS. 8 p.m. Fri., July 25.

Students $10 in advance or at the door

Children 6 and under free

Gates open / tickets on sale 11:30a.m.

Tickets at www.mthoodjazz.org, www.tickettomato.com, and Gresham Chamber of Commerce 701 NE Hood, Gresham New this year! Mt. Hood Jazz Run, Saturday August 2nd www.greshamrunningclub.com

El Corazon www.elcorazonseattle.com

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

WEDNESDAY, JULY 23

SHARKMUFFIN

with Wiscon, The Pity Kiss, The Loveless Building, plus guests Lounge Show. Doors at 8 / Show at 8:30PM 21+. $6 ADV / $8 DOS

FRIDAY, JULY 25

SUNDAY, JULY 27

KALI RA

with Anxiety Fair, Con, Lust For Glory and Simpl3jack Lounge Show. Doors at 7 / Show at 7:30PM ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $8 ADV / $10 DOS

TUESDAY, JULY 29

Take Warning Presents:

KISW (99.9 FM) Metal Shop & Mike Thrasher Present:

with Hard Girls and Dogbreth Doors at 7 / Show at 8PM ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $15 ADV / $17 DOS

with Lody Kong, Kill Closet, Sanction VIII and Unhailoed Doors at 7 / Show at 8PM ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $20 ADV / $25 DOS

ANDREW JACKSON JIHAD SATURDAY, JULY 26

BACK ALLEY BARBERS

with Hopeless Jack & The Handsome Devil, Dead Man, Lemmon and Memphis Linzy Doors at 8:30 / Show at 9PM 21+. $6 ADV / $8 DOS

SATURDAY, JULY 26

Just Bird Booking Presents: COVER/TRIBUTE SHOW

SHAINA RAE & JOE OF ALABASTER (TAYLOR SWIFT)

w/ Zechariah Valette (Michael Jackson), Peace Mercutio (Tooth & Nail Classics), AJ Caso (Sleeping With Sirens), An Old Best Friend (Compilation), Signifying The End (Compilation). Doors at 6:30 / Show at 7PM.

ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $7 ADV / $10 DOS

SOULFLY

WEDNESDAY, JULY 30

OFF TRENDS

with Family Thief, The Residence, Gliceryn, Pacific Drive and Primal Times Lounge Show. Doors at 7 / Show at 7:30PM ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $8 ADV / $10 DOS

THURSDAY, JULY 31 KISW (99.9 FM) Metal Shop & El Corazon Present:

RINGS OF SATURN with Arsonists Get All The Girls, Aenimus, Toarn and Stolen Society. Doors at 6 / Show at 6:30PM ALL AGES/BAR W/ID. $12 ADV / $14 DOS

JUST ANNOUNCED 8/13 LOUNGE CYBORG OCTOPUS 8/16 NOI!SE 8/26 EYE THE REALIST 9/4 LOUNGE EXOHXO 9/10 LOUNGE EVERYONE DIES

IN UTAH 10/2 LOUNGE LOSE CONTROL 10/14 LOUNGE PUP UP & COMING 7/31 LOUNGE MOBILE DEATHCAMP 8/1 SET IT OFF 8/1 LOUNGE TRIP LIKE ANIMALS 8/2 LOUNGE SPECIAL EXPLOSION 8/3 VESSELS 8/3 LOUNGE SKA REVIVAL TOUR FEAT. THE LAST SLICE 8/6 LOUNGE ISHI 8/7 NICK THUNE 8/8 I DECLARE WAR 8/9 YOB 8/10 THE COURTNEY JOHN PROJECT 8/10 LOUNGE AIR SEX CHAMPIONSHIPS 8/11 THE SPIRITUAL BAT 8/11 LOUNGE NOUVEAU EXPO 8/12 ALL HAIL THE YETI / WITCHBURN 8/12 LOUNGE THE SINGLES 8/14 LOUNGE DISTRICT 10/5 RICHARD MARX

Tickets now available at cascadetickets.com - No per order fees for online purchases. Our on-site Box Office is open 1pm-5pm weekdays in our office and all nights we are open in the club - $2 service charge per ticket Charge by Phone at 1.800.514.3849. Online at www.cascadetickets.com - Tickets are subject to service charge

The EL CORAZON VIP PROGRAM: see details at www.elcorazon.com/vip.html and for an application email us at info@elcorazonseattle.com

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

t’s not easy to be a band from Phoenix. No disrespect to the Arizona capital, but the city hasn’t exactly been a hotbed of cultural exports. Its most famous musical acts include Gin Blossoms, Jimmy Eat World, and Meat Puppets, as well as an early version of Alice Cooper, who didn’t find success until he relocated to Los Angeles. Even the city’s seeming namesake act, Phoenix, isn’t from the Southwest—they’re French. So the guys from folk-punk act Andrew Jackson Jihad had their work cut out for themselves from the get-go. Formed in 2004 and inspired by punk rock as well as by indie-folk acts like Mountain Goats (which the band is frequently compared to) and Neutral Milk Hotel, Andrew Jihad Jackson has slowly and steadily grown its following beyond the Valley of the Sun, thanks to a do-it-yourself ethos and lots of hard work. Ben Gallaty, the band’s bassist and one of its two founding members, said the initial goal was simply to tour, which the group did via the help of an online directory of bands, venues, and punk houses called Book Your Own Fuckin’ Life (byofl.org), a pre–social media resource for enterprising bands. Through that, AJJ booked a five-week tour with maybe 15 shows actually happening, Gallaty remembers. “It was mostly a vacation,” he says. But things got better. The group eventually recorded Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns in 2005, an urgent, lo-fi manifesto about smoking, hipsters, and God that laid the template for what AJJ would become. Amid surreal and absurdist imagery were songs rooted in social issues. As the band evolved, so did its message, with subsequent albums tackling mental health, the rights of the homeless, feminism, and race. “I am white and I’ve got everything I need,” Sean Bonnette sings on “American Tune” from 2011’s Knife Man. “No one clutches their purse when they’re in a room alone with me.” AJJ kept touring and making records, building things slowly but steadily, and pretty soon could

Adults $15 in advance $20 at the door

35


arts&culture» Music

TheWeekAhead Wednesday, July 23

Lots of changes have taken place in the SMOOTH SAILING camp. Drummer Brandon Elizaga needed downtime to recover from hand surgery, and guitarist Tyler Romo decided to step away from the band to pursue other projects. Now, its noted “double rumble” sound, thanks to bassists Jake Vice and Ryan Adams, is a man short, as Vice stepped in to Romo’s place on guitar, retooled some old songs to fit the change, and began writing for a new EP. Whew. Let’s welcome back the reformatted group properly. With Serial Hawk, Princess, X Suns. Barboza, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9442, thebarboza.com. 8 p.m. $8 adv. 21 and over. JAMES BALLINGER A former five-piece experimental jazz/rock combo recently turned three-piece, HEATWARMER continues to steal hearts, even though now the group, comprising three average dudes, sounds like your weird uncle’s band. Singer Luke Bergman’s vocals are soft, gentle, and high-pitched, making you slightly uncomfortable. The sound alternates between youthful, twinkly synth and a fuller psychedelic noise that can be overwhelming. But recordings don’t do Heatwarmer’s vibe justice; it’s the live shows that are always guaranteed to be a party, offering a repertoire of oddities from circus themes (“Magic Hearts”) to banjo-driven folk tunes (“The Dybbuks”). With Iji, Hana and the Goose. Café Racer, 5828 Roosevelt Way N.E., 523-5282, caferacerseattle.com. 9 p.m. Free. 21 and over. DIANA M. LE

mainstage

dinner & show

WED/JULY 23 • 7:30PM - 91.3 KBCS WELCOMES

dervish

THU/JULY 24 - SAT/JULY 26 • 8PM • 17+ CAN CAN PRESENTS

buckaroos

SUN/JULY 27 • 7:30PM

matt wertz w/ friendly gomez WED/JULY 30 & THU/JULY 31 • 8PM

x full band acoustic show w/ folk uke

st paul de vence

w/ courtney marie andrews SAT/AUGUST 2 • 8PM

ian moore & friends birthday show!

featuring bill carter, jon rauhouse & pete droge SUN/AUGUST 3 • 7:30PM

cody beebe & the crooks

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

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happy hour every day • 7/23 occidental gypsy • 7/24 the hot mcgandhis • 7/25 supersones / coe/ flory-barnes/abouzied • 7/26 daniel kirkpatrick • 7/27 hwy 99 blues presents • 7/28 crossrhythm sessions • 7/29 singer-songwriter showcase featuring: jaspar lepak, ghosts i’ve met and harrison fulop • 7/30 the coffis brothers TO ENSURE THE BEST EXPERIENCE · PLEASE ARRIVE EARLY DOORS OPEN 1.5 HOURS PRIOR TO FIRST SHOW · ALL-AGES (BEFORE 9:30PM)

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After 10 years and a handful of releases each better than the last, THE QUIET ONES officially call it quits tonight. That’s not to say the band’s primary members—including brothers John, Chris, and David Totten—are leaving the music scene altogether; you can find combinations of them in at least seven other Seattle-based groups, including Friends and Family, Scriptures, and Brighter Waters. But the time has come to say goodbye to one of Seattle’s most straightforward indie-rock bands—one that could nail an obscure R.E.M. cover as easily as it invokes the spirit of Pavement in a song like “Terrestrial Chains”—and this send-off with friends promises to be a good time. It’s an amicable decision, after all, says John. “We’re super-excited to party with everyone.” With BOAT, Marty Marquis (of Blitzen Trapper). The Crocodile, 2200 Second Ave., 441-4618, the crocodile.com. 8 p.m. $8 adv. GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT COLUMBIA GORGE BLUEGRASS FESTIVAL There was a time when appreciation for bluegrass as an art form was limited to dedicated Appalachian devotees and in-the-know country-music enthusiasts. That time is far gone indeed. In the past decade or so, bluegrass has become more recognized in the larger popular-music landscape, and has really taken hold in the Pacific Northwest, as evidenced by the continued success of this annual fest at the Gorge. This year’s event is bigger than ever, with a keen blend of larger well-known acts like James King and John Reischman, along with Northwest heavyweights like the Great Northern Planes and Sam Hill. Through Sunday. Skamania County Fairgrounds, 710 Rock Creek Dr., Stevenson, Wash., columbiagorge bluegrass.net. Festival pass $55.50; single-day pass Thurs. or Sun. $15, Fri. or Sat. $35. CR In only its second year, the TIMBER OUTDOOR MUSIC FESTIVAL has established itself as a fully immersive experience that moves beyond your typical music festival. Sure, you get a chance to see an awesome lineup (including Damien Jurado, Horse Feathers, Charles “the Screaming Eagle” Bradley, and J. Mascis) in an intimate environment, yet there’s something more to it. Embedded within this great festival is the mission to combine music, family, community, and a love of nature. With an array of outdoor activities and camping, this is a celebration not only of the arts, but of pure awe for our Northwest landscape. Camping is highly encouraged, so air out that moldy tent from the basement. Through Saturday. Music starts 4 p.m. Thurs. Tolt-MacDonald Park, 31023 N.E. 40th St,, Carnation, Wash., timbermusicfest.com. Passes start at $20; camping pass extra. STIRLING MYLES (Watch seattleweekly.com/reverb for Morgen Schuler’s take on the festivities.) As bluegrass goes, few states—except maybe Kentucky—have offered the hotbed of string-burners that North Carolina can claim. Just off the top of my head, burning up the scene right now are the irrepressible Avett Brothers; Steve Martin’s exceptional backing ensemble Steep Canyon Rangers; and CHATHAM COUNTY LINE. Led by the warm vocals of frontman Dave Wilson, this quartet sounds like Wilco jamming in a cabin somewhere in the Blue Ridge mountains, with high four-part harmonies and catchy melodies that dip equally into pop and traditional string-based forms. Bring your dancing boots. 5213 Ballard Ave. N.W., 789-3599, tractortavern.com. 9 p.m. $12 adv./$14 DOS. GE

DANA TYNAN

next • 8/4 movie mondays :: a mighty wind • 8/5 hamilton leithauser • 8/6 alyse black w/ natalie gelman • 8/7 jay farrar • 8/8 brazilian nights! w/ alessandro penezzi trio • 8/9 the senate • 8/10 vieux farka touré • 8/11 seagals calendar unveiling • 8/12 movie mondays on tuesday :: pearl jam 20 • 8/13 jenn grinels w/ zarni • 8/14 dirty bourbon river show • 8/15 - 17 ottmar liebert & luna negra • 8/18 mary mcbride band • 8/19 the peter and will anderson trio • 8/20 rafe pearlman with dust & gold

Thursday, July 24

FRI/AUGUST 1 • 8PM

w/ rae solomon & sweetkiss momma

St., 709-9442, neumos.com. 8 p.m. $20 adv. 21 and over. AZARIA C. PODPLESKY

history, few artists are •In the annals of pop-music JOAN BAEZ. With youth

as uncompromising as comes a desire for change, to rise up and speak out against the world’s perceived injustices, but with age comes a susceptibility to comfort and the eagerness to settle down, turning earlier authentic vitriol into hollow shtick. Baez has never allowed that to happen. Today, at 73, she’s the same person who opened for Martin Luther King Jr. on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963. While the times have indeed changed, she’s remained unwaveringly dedicated to her values and stringent in her larger social consciousness—a beacon of authenticity in a world in which everyone tries to please everyone else. Edmonds Center for the Arts, 410 Fourth Ave. N., 425-275-9595, edmondscenterforthearts.org. 7:30 p.m. $54 and up. Selling fast. CORBIN REIFF Twenty-seven years after he debuted with DJ Eric B. on their first full-length, Paid in Full, RAKIM, long heralded as one of the most influential MCs of all time, is still a sought-after collaborator. The rapper teamed up with DMX on 2013’s “Don’t Call Me” and has contributed verses to tracks by Alicia Keys, Kanye West, and Linkin Park, among many others. With ill Chris, Gifted Gab, Romaro Franceswa. Neumos, 925 E. Pike

Friday, July 25

•CAPITOL HILL BLOCK PARTY A-list festival headlin-

ing talent has become less a surprise and more an expectation in recent years. (See: Outkast, Jane’s Addiction, Lady Gaga, etc.) And though at one point it seemed to be going in a similar direction, booking acts like Sonic Youth and Jack White, Capitol Hill Block Party scaled back this year in favor of a different route, committing to newer talent over upscale, flashy megaacts. Now in its 18th year, this particular lineup fills the void for those who wish their favorite indie bands like The War on Drugs, Dum Dum Girls, and Matt & Kim got more notice. Plus the potential of an MC collab between A$AP Rocky and A$AP Ferg is alone worth all the hype. Through Sunday. With Spoon, Chromeo, Odesza, The Budos Band, and lots more. Between


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

JAZZ ALLEY IS A SUPPER CLUB Broadway and 12th Avenue and Pine and Union Streets, capitolhillblockparty.com. Single-day, $50 plus fees; two- and three-day advance pass, $90 and up. All ages. DUSTY HENRY (Watch seattleweekly.com/reverb for Dusty’s comprehensive review of the fest.)

Sunday, July 27

THE BODY has been getting serious attention lately,

and for good reason. Released From Love, its collaborative vinyl-only release with Louisiana’s Thou, is one of the year’s best heavy records so far. Live, the Portland guitar-and-drum duo’s sets replicate its noisy sludge flawlessly. Seattle keyboard-and-drum duo MTNS headline. With Old Man Wizard, Witch Ripper. The Highline, 210 Broadway E., 328-7837, highlineseattle.com. 9 p.m. $10–$12. 21 and over. JB

ALBERT LEE

70TH BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION!

WED, JUL 23

Grammy Award-winning British guitarist celebrated by fans and musicians the world over for his hybrid picking technique

MONTY ALEXANDER AND THE HARLEM-KINGSTON EXPRESS 70TH BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION!

Tuesday, July 29

THURS, JUL 24 - SUN, JUL 27

Grammy-nominated jazz pianist, bridging the worlds of American jaxx, popular song and the music of his native Jamaica

Five years ago I was admiring Ben Johnson, lead singer of Bellingham’s CHUNKY WONDER, from a very far distance in the hallways of high school, and now I’m professing my love for his band from an equally remote distance. It plays powergroove—a style full of what the band endearingly refers to as “chunk” (think Danger Radio meets Forgive Durden). From what I can tell, the chunk is what powers the groove, and Johnson’s smooth and steady vocals ground the waxing and waning of further cycles of psychedelic/ garage/punk/funk. One of B-ham’s best-kept secrets, Chunky Wonder is consistently praised for its energetic live shows. With McTuff. Seamonster Lounge, 2202 N. 45th St., 992-1120, seamonsterlounge.com. 8.pm. Free. 21 and over. DML

BILL FRISELL AND VINICIUS CANTUARIA - LAGRIMAS MEXICANAS TUES, JUL 29 - WED, JUL 30 Improv jazz guitarist joined by Brazilian singersongwriter

JOHN PIZZARELLI QUARTET THURS, JUL 31 - SUN, AUG 3

World-renowned jazz guitarist and singer

CURTIS STIGERS TUES, AUG 5 - WED, AUG 6

in This Bring T And ge n o p Cou Tizer e p p A one 2 oFF! For 1/

Singer, saxophonist and songwriter blurring the lines between jazz, pop, soul, rock, blues and country

all ages | free parking full schedule at jazzalley.com

PETER LEE

Send events to music@seattleweekly.com. See seattleweekly.com for full listings.

SE ATTLE WEEKLY • JU LY 23 — 29, 2014

The nation’s tangled music history doesn’t suggest a precise beginning for its strains of acoustic music. But somewhere in there, blues, country, folk, and gospel got all rolled together and spit out Minnesota guitarist/singer CHARLIE PARR. Coming late to recording, he debuted in 2004 with Criminals and Sinners. There have been a steady stream of dispatches since, his latest being the instrumental Hollandale. What’s made Parr a steadily impressive player, though, are his revealing lyrics, drawing from Depression-era stories passed down by his father as well as the traditional tropes of American songwriting: drunkenness and the gnarled roads of life. With The Lowest Pair. Tractor Tavern. 9 p.m. $10. DAVE CANTOR The making of a great summer anthem is an art in itself. The best ones achieve a balance of sunny bliss and nostalgia that hits listeners in the right place at the right time. The latest album from Brooklyn’s MINIATURE TIGERS, Cruel Runnings, is packed with potential summer jams that ooze optimism through jangling guitars and wistful synthesizers. While Iggy Azalea might be seen as the reigning queen of summer with “Fancy,” Miniature Tigers are quietly building devotees of its own solstice kingdom with songs that feel like the last epic day of freedom before school starts. As summer reaches its midpoint, now seems as good a time as ever to get immersed in the bittersweet mantras of “Swimming Pool Blues” and “Sadistic Kisses.” With the Griswolds, Scarves. The Vera Project, 305 Harrison St., 956-8372, thevera project.org. 7:30 p.m. $12 adv./$14 DOS. All ages. DH

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a&c» Music

FESTIVAL OF THE PEOPLE

ROCK THE PARK 2014

LocaLReLeases Sara Jackson-Holman, River Queen (out now,

Find us on Facebook! Darrington Renewal Project A World Feast www.aworldfeast.com

www.facebook.com/takewarningpresents twitter @takewarningsea

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!

tickets @ ticketfly.com

Thursday July 24Th @ NecTar

THE ORIGINAL WAILERS

Two sTory Zori

21+ onLY - 8:00 pm

Thursday aug. 7Th @ el coraZoN

NICK THUNE w/ guesTs

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Friday augusT 8Th @ Neumos

FOXY SHAZAM

sTop lighT observaTioNs, chrome lakes

aLL ages (bar w/ id) 8:00 pm U&C: 7/23 martin atkins @ tractor, 7/25 andrew Jackson Jihad @ eL corazon TickeTs going fasT!, 7/29 miniature tigers @ Vera proJect, 8/5 the sidekicks @ chop sueY, 8/23 hawthorne heights @ chop sueY, 9/12 neiL hamburger @ barboza, 10/1 parachute @ eL corazon

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AARON CRAWFORD 9PM - $3 COVER FRI JULY 25TH

AARON CRAWFORD 9PM - $5 COVER

SAT JULY 26TH

NOWHERE NEAR NASHVILLE 9PM - $5

SEATTLE WEEKLY • JULY 23 — 29, 2014

SUN JULY 27TH

38

WES JONES

9 PM - $3 COVER 4 PM - OPEN MIC ACOUSTIC JAM WITH BODACIOUS BILLY 6-8:30 PM - KICK IN FOR CONNIE BENEFIT; SILENT AUCTION AND RAFFLE

TUES JULY 29TH

JERKELS 9PM - NO COVER

MONDAY AND WEDNESDAY

KARAOKE WITH DJ FORREST GUMP 9:00PM • NO COVER

FREE COUNTRY DANCE LESSONS WITH OUR HOST MARY ANN AT 8PM; SUN, MON, TUES

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Expunged Records, expungedrecords.com) Once while on tour with my band Alameda, I saw Sara Jackson-Holman silence a chatty crowd in Graz, Austria. She started her set with “Push Back,” an anthemic pop track from this new sixsong EP, and people were sold right on the spot. To me this came as no surprise, considering that her larger-than-life stage presence itself captivates audiences, and it doesn’t hurt that she can also write a catchy-as-hell pop hook. Now available to everyone, River Queen—recorded at Miracle Lake Studios in Camas, Wash., where she recorded her two previous releases, 2010’s When You Dream and 2012’s Cardiology—sits you down at a roundtable of influences spanning the gamut from Adele to Bach. Combining hip-hop elements with piano compositions (Jackson-Holman is a classically trained pianist), these newest songs easily join a certain canon of radio pop hits (think Lorde or My Brightest Diamond). Backed with soundscapes of lush vocal harmonies, dense melodies, and booming beats, Jackson-Holman has expanded from a more minimal sound and ventured into expansive, lavish territory. Unapologetically pop, this is a mature and confident album of love lost and won. At just 21, she comes across as a veteran, knowing exactly what she’s doing. Now the only question is: What crowd will she be silencing next? STIRLING MYLES

Luluc, Passerby (out now, Subpop, lulucmusic.

com) As opposed to the unmistakable lushness he brought to Sharon Van Etten’s latest release, Are We There, here producer Aaron Dessner takes a backseat— like way, way back—on this Australian duo’s Sub Pop debut. Accompanied by Steve Hassett, Zoe Randell is an effortless singer, and her dreamy vocals—like those of a post-rock Judy Collins, or Nico—seem to magically hover around these 10 lightly embellished songs that require little else. Soft touches, like the delicate thrum of nylon strings or a gentle piano chord, do the rest, with tender lyrics about the natural world, love, and the ephemeral. If you happen to notice a Nick Drake-like quality, a certain hushed and quiet tone, that’s no mistake; the band is good friends with Drake’s producer, Joe Boyd, and brings forth a similar rainy-day, coffee-shop-ready style. Yet the contemplative Passerby could also soundtrack any number of other activities—like a restful nap with your favorite cat, helpfully suggested by its cover art—and, in contrast with Sub Pop’s increasingly frenetic, experimental roster, is just as refreshing.

GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT E


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The Daily Herald, Snohomish County’s source for outstanding local news and community information for more than 100 years and a division of Sound Publishing, Inc. is seeking a Marketing Coordinator to assist with multi-platform advertising and marketing solutions of print, web, mobile, e-newsletters, daily deals, event sponsorships and special publications as well as the daily operations of the Marketing department. Responsibilities include but are not limited to the coordination, updating and creation of marketing materials across a range of delivery channels, social media, contesting, events, house marketing, newsletters and working closely with the Sr. Marketing Manager to develop strategies and implement the marketing plan. The right individual will be a highly organized, responsible, self-motivated, customer-comes-first proven problem-solver who thrives in a fast-paced, deadline-driven environment with the ability to think ahead of the curve. We offer a competitive salary and benefits package including health insurance, paid time off (vacation, sick, and holidays), and 401K (currently with an employer match.) If you meet the above qualifications and are seeking an opportunity to be part of a venerable media company, email us your resume and cover letter to hreast@soundpublishing.com No phone calls please. Sound Publishing is an Equal Opportunity Employer (EOE) and strongly supports diversity in the workplace. Check out our website to find out more about us! www.soundpublishing.com

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If you answered YES to the above, then we are looking for you! Seattle Weekly, one of Seattle’s most respected publications and a division of Sound Publishing, Inc. is looking for self-motivated, results-driven people interested in a multi-media sales career. This position will be responsible for print and digital advertising sales to an eclectic and exciting group of clients. As part of our sales team you are expected to maintain and grow existing client relationships, as well as develop new client relationships. The successful candidate will also be goal oriented, have organizational skills that enable you to manage multiple deadlines, provide great consultative sales and excellent customer service. This position receives a base salary of $24k plus commission; and a benefits package including health insurance, paid time off, and 401K. Position requires use of your personal cell phone and vehicle, possession of valid WA State Driver’s License and proof of active vehicle insurance. Sales experience necessary; Media experience is a definite asset. Must be computer-proficient. If you have these skills, and enjoy playing a pro-active part in impacting your local businesses’ financial success with advertising solutions, please email your resume and cover letter to: hreast@sound publishing.com, ATTN: SEA. Sound Publishing is an Equal Opportunity Employee (EOE) and strongly supports diversity in the workplace. Visit our website to learn more about us!

Cypress Semiconductor Corporation, leading provider of highperformance, mixed-signal, programmable solutions, has opening in Lynnwood, WA for Electrical Design Engineer Staff (EDE13): Develop Design For Testability (DFT) algorithms in programmable digital systems. If interested, mail resume (must reference job code) to: Cypress Semiconductor Corp., Attn: AMMO, 198 Champion Court, M.S. 6.1, San Jose, CA 95134. Director of Product Mobility Solutions sought by Interloc Solutions, Inc., Seattle WA, deg’d, exp’d to lead delivery of technical services & product team of Android & iOS developers of Maximo products into mobility, data loading & application distribution. Reqs 25% travel to meet w/clients re: project rqrmts. Respond to: npalmer@interlocsolutions.com

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Appliances

NOTICE Washington State law requires wood sellers to provide an invoice (receipt) that shows the seller’s and buyer’s name and address and the date delivered. The invoice should also state the price, the quantity delivered and the quantity upon which the price is based. There should be a statement on the type and quality of the wood. When you buy firewood write the seller’s phone number and the license plate number of the delivery vehicle. The legal measure for firewood in Washington is the cord or a fraction of a cord. Estimate a cord by visualizing a four-foot by eight-foot space filled with wood to a height of four feet. Most long bed pickup trucks have beds that are close to the four-foot by 8-foot dimension. To make a firewood complaint, call 360-9021857. agr.wa.gov/inspection/ WeightsMeasures/Fire woodinformation.aspx agr.wa.gov/inspection/WeightsMeasures/Firewoodinformation.aspx

Appliances

AMANA RANGE Deluxe 30” Glasstop Range self clean, auto clock & timer ExtraLarge oven & storage *UNDER WARRANTY* Over $800. new. Pay off balance of $193 or make payments of $14 per month. Credit Dept. 206-244-6966

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39


Auto Events/ Auctions

Auto Events/ Auctions

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