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Monday, May 21, 2007

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 21 at 12:00 PM


'The Kid Brother'/'Speedy' Double Feature

(WURLITZER!) Near the end of Harold Lloyd's silent-film career, he made two uproarious, gag-stacked features steeped in '20s Americana. The Kid Brother is about a smart wimp in a small town; Speedy takes Lloyd to the Big Apple, where he romps at Coney Island and gets ball-crazy at Yankee Stadium. Fabulous Stranger Genius shortlister Dennis James accompanies the films on the Wurlitzer organ. (Paramount Theatre, 911 Pine St, 292-2787. 7 pm, $9$12.) ANNIE WAGNER

Art Brut

posted by on May 21 at 11:28 AM

From The Shakespeare Riots by Nigel Cliff:

In 1849 more than 25 people were shot dead outside a New York City theater... Believe it or not, they were there to disrupt a performance by an actor they considered unworthy of playing Macbeth.

(Thanks for the tip, A.)


Sunday, May 20, 2007

Miranda July the Morning After

posted by on May 20 at 6:56 PM

The big party at Neumo's last Thursday night ended with Miranda July and Becky Stark dancing with the crowd to DJ Fucking in the Streets's set. It's a happy, distant blur now--dimly recalled: the moment in one song when everyone started crazily jumping up and down--and it makes you wonder: How was July's morning-after?

Hear for yourself. She was on KUOW at the ungodly hour of 9 to 10 the next morning, doing an interview with Steve Scher. Scher doesn't seem to have read much of July's book, but there's some great stuff they do with callers, and they talk about all this stuff toward the end. (He asks her if that story about her lifting her dress over her head at a party is true.)

Enjoy.


Saturday, May 19, 2007

Still Making Up Her Mind

posted by on May 19 at 9:43 AM

Since his death last month, lots of people have been reminiscing about reading Kurt Vonnegut back in high school.

I read him back then too and liked it fine, but it didn't last for me like it has with a lot of smart people I know.

I came across this blog post and this one from an actual real live high schooler talking about reading Kurt Vonnegut in the here and now.

Freed from the effects of distance (and in the context of the current Vonnegut lovefest), it was nice to hear this teenager's candor. She doesn't dislike it (she seems to like it, actually) but rather than being definitive, she seems measured—still making up her mind about it. Kind of refreshing.


Friday, May 18, 2007

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 18 at 12:00 PM


Big Bang Bash

(ART) This year, the Henry's fundraiser party features hundreds of artworks by Yuki Nakamura, Joe Park, Lead Pencil Studio, and dozens more. At $100, $200, or $300, every piece is a bargain, but there's a catch: They're anonymous, so you must buy based on how much you like a piece, not by who made it. It's like a blind date with art. Plus, music by Sarah Rudinoff, Nick Garrison, and the ever-stellar DJ Riz; cocktail-napkin portraits by Ellen Forney; et cetera. (Henry Art Gallery, 4100 15th Ave NE, 800-838-3006. 8 pm—midnight, $50—$150.) BRENDAN KILEY

and. . . .

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War Room Second Anniversary Party

(AND YOU DON'T STOP) To celebrate the beginning of its third year of existence, the War Room is spinning beats and showing art. Providing the beats: Shortkut (of the world-famous Beat Junkies) and DV One (who is fighting a bad case of police brutality in court). Providing the art: Obey Propaganda. "Hey DJ won't you play that song/you keep me dancing, dancing all night long." (War Room, 722 E Pike St, 328-7666. 9 pm, free, 21+.) CHARLES MUDEDE

Philosopher King

posted by on May 18 at 11:18 AM

None of the books I have read by Zizek, the "over-prolific" philosopher, have told more about him than this picture:
110123694_l.jpg Nevertheless, Zizek is an entertaining speaker. This lecture, The Ignorance of Chicken, or, Who Believes What Today?, which was delivered last year at the University of Chicago, has several great jokes, comments on American politics and events, delightful observations about "global consumerist culture," a fresh reading of Marx's theory of commodity fetishism, and a Lacanian critique on the nature of belief and respect in the 21st century. Because I've listened to the lecture only once, early this morning while walking to work, I'm not sure if it's coherent. On first impression, it's very fragmented and more instinctual than intellectual.


Thursday, May 17, 2007

The Art of Burial

posted by on May 17 at 2:12 PM

Back in the middle of last year, the dub genius Burial had this haunting image on his Myspace music account.
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Two or so months ago, I came across this image while looking through an art magazine:
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James Casebere is the photographer. He lives in Manhattan. A mountain bike hangs upside down from the ceiling of his studio. On his studio's tables stand miniature models of the halls and cells he uses to produce photographs of spaces that are not for humans but the spirits of dead humans.
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Two weeks ago, I sent an email to Burial, who lives in South London, and asked for his position on the American photographer. Last week, I received this response:

yeah i love james casebere!.. i dont know much about art but i loved his images the moment my dad showed me them when i was younger. it is my dream to one day have a real james casebere photo on my wall! ive got a book of his that i look at and i make a lot of my music with those pictures next to me. i get pulled into those solitary empty spaces and i dream of the kind of emptiness that he has in his photos. in my dreams my music would be echoing through those rooms. i wonder who he is?.. im reluctant to find out any real information about people who r important to me.

Not I. I want to know everything about Burial. I want to know that in the dreams he has at night (moon shining in the window of his room) his music echoes through Casebere's empty spaces.


Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 17 at 12:41 PM

Miranda July
(EVENING OF MYTHICAL PROPORTIONS) Tonight is the first night of the rest of your life, and to celebrate, The Stranger is presenting a reading and dance party with Miranda July, the omni-talented filmmaker (Me and You and Everyone We Know), author (No One Belongs Here More Than You), visual artist, performer, and champion NHL goalie. Also on the bill: the musician and performer Sarah Rudinoff; the musician Becky Stark; the youngest principal musician in Seattle Symphony's history, Joshua Roman; and "Awesome," the official band of Stranger literary events. Plus, DJs Fucking in the Streets and Sam Rousso Soundsystem. Oh my god, and it's free. (Neumo's, 925 E Pike St, 709-9467. Doors at 7 pm, show at 8 pm, party at 10 pm, free, 21+.) CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE

Lee Marvin Kicked Ronald Reagan's Ass

posted by on May 17 at 12:31 PM

This story over at the New York Times has been a long time coming. It's a heartfelt appreciation of the films of Lee Marvin, who's also the subject of a long-overdue film festival in New York right now.
Lee Marvin, in case you didn't know, is the motherfucking man. Unlike countless other overrated action stars who try to come off like badasses, Lee Marvin moves like a panther and his voice sounds like he just ate a death sandwich and he loved the taste. If you've never seen any of his movies, or if you only know him from The Dirty Dozen, I've summarized four of his best movies after the jump. These four movies, applied properly to your Netflix queue, will serve as an apartment-sized Lee Marvin film festival, blissfully free from annoying NYC film snobs.

Continue reading "Lee Marvin Kicked Ronald Reagan's Ass" »

Flatland

posted by on May 17 at 10:57 AM

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For the last three weeks, six artists, including Seattle's Alex Schweder, have been living in a four-story, two-foot deep "vinyl tenement," as Gothamist called it--a sort of human ant farm based on a 19th-century science fiction novel.

The rooms are barely wider than the artists's shoulders, the floors connected by slim ladders. They can not pass each other in the hall, but must go around each other, above or below.

The project is called Flatland--"Six people, 20 days, an expedition into 2 dimensions"--and is happening at the Sculpture Center in Queens.

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Flatland ends this Sunday, May 20, but by reading the blog you find that at least two of the artists have thrown in the towel and liberated themselves already--and Schweder is planning to leave today. (The two who did leave found themselves with cramps in their feet just from walking in the big, regular world.)

This from Schweder's last entry on the blog, dated Saturday, May 12:

This space is tight, it is a restraint of one direction. Limits also exist in the amount of space I have, 16 square feet. If I were to take off my skin and stretch it over my floor, I would have some skin left over.

There are other limits that inform how we relate to space based on our instructions for occupation: For twenty days, you can leave anytime you want, but cannot re-enter if you do. This points to another facet of occupation, duration.

... The most difficult thing about this proposition is not the tight space, but the duration that you need to stay in it. I could ask someone to get me a scarf at the back of the closet and it would not be a problem. If I asked you to stay in that closet for a week it would likely be met with hesitation.

... This project is a three week house. To follow Wurm's example, what would a one minute house look like? What would a five year house look like?

Schweder promises in an email that he'll talk more about living two feet wide when he gets reacclimated and back to Seattle next week.


Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Brancusi & Newman

posted by on May 16 at 6:20 PM

Something's been on my mind since SAM opened. (Sorry I'm behind, I was in Chicago last week lavishing love on buildings like this and art like this, this, and a gorgeous little El Greco of Mary and Jesus saying goodbye to each other that I can't find online.)

It's just a little thing: the muted Barnett Newman painting at the entry of the special exhibition gallery is lost in that spot. Meanwhile, it would be gorgeous on the wall facing Brancusi's Bird in Space, where the exhibition text is printed. I wish they could be switched.

But since that probably won't happen, make sure you stand back and to the side of the Brancusi so you can see its golden, wooden, and white-marble forms lining up with Newman's raw vertical patches.

(And to the Seattle critic who complained that Bird in Space needs more room around it: buh. Check out Brancusi's studio outside the Pompidou, or MoMA's grouping of his works. They're not meant to stand in a vacuum.)

Money Sells

posted by on May 16 at 4:59 PM

Damien Hirst, according to Bloomberg, may rise into the stratospheric auction-record ranks next month when his For the Love of God--a skull made of platinum and covered in 1,106.18 carats of diamonds--goes on sale for $99 million. (Clever cheater, dealing in jewels to get up there.)

White Cube isn't handing out any images (it will be damn disappointing if the thing doesn't exist), so instead I leave you with 99 cent II (2001), the most expensive photograph ever sold at auction ($3.3 million in February at Sotheby's in London).

It's German artist Andreas Gursky's giant diptych of a dollar store.

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What's Going On At Slate?

posted by on May 16 at 4:20 PM

Today the online mag posted a piece called "The best (and worst) of Seattle's architecture," and yikes.

The writer, Witold Rybczynski, profiles all the notable buildings in the city--with nary a mention of the new Seattle Art Museum, which opened downtown less than two weeks ago to national coverage in the press. (Editors didn't notice the oversight?)

Making matters worse, Rybczynski mistakes Richard Serra for Anthony Caro, twice.

It's not only that Serra is famous and that Serra and Caro are impossible to mistake for one another, but that Serra's works are among the most architectural in the history of sculpture--well within the bounds for an architecture critic.

Ouch.

More on the Amazingly Good and Effervescently Free Musico-Literary Extravaganza Featuring Miranda July Tomorrow Night at Neumo's

posted by on May 16 at 1:58 PM

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Your questions answered:

It's free?
Free.

Really? Wow.
Makes you feel a little effervescent, doesn't it?

Well, but am I going to be able to get in?
Yup. There's that whole upstairs area. And, unlike at past Stranger musico-literary events, there won't be a bunch of chairs taking up space.

Who else is on the bill? What's going to happen?
Isn't that always the question? As for the bill, the people on it are Sarah Rudinoff, a performer and musician who won a Stranger Genius Award for theater in '05 and who (in excellent news) has been writing songs, and is going perform one of them for the first time ever, along with two other songs-written-by-others, one of which is a Jeff Buckley cover (funny, there was one of those at the Zadie Smith musico-literary extravaganza at Neumo's also in '05 [good year!]); Joshua Roman, the 23-year-old principal cellist of the Seattle Symphony, who's accompanying Rudinoff and is disarmingly nice; Becky Stark, the singer from Lavender Diamond, whose gorgeous first album Imagine Our Love just came out; "Awesome," the official band of Stranger musico-literary extravaganzas, who were commissioned to write a bunch of original songs (they are wonderful) based on July's book; and the famous athlete Miranda July. The music sets are all extra short. Then July will go on and read and then get interviewed about her hockey career.

And then what?
A dance party. DJ Fucking in the Streets and DJ Sam Rousso Sound System presiding, with a little more pop thrown in than usual.

Are there any other awesome individuals--like any other Stranger Genius Award-winners--associated with this?
We're working on it. We're going to try to project some new stop-motion footage by Web Crowell, who won the Stranger Genius Award for film in '04. Parasols are involved.

Wow, that's a lot of stuff.
We don't use the word "extravaganza" lightly.

How do you make all this free? Are you laundering money?
Yes. Well, no. We're laundering books, sort of. The books The Stranger gets sent every day from publishers. We only have room to write about a fraction of them in The Stranger. Most book reviewers hoard the reviewer's copies they get and sell them to used bookstores--and keep the money. We sell them off and put that money back into the literary community in a new way.

Can I go if I'm under 21?
Sadly, no. But you can watch it all later. We're taping it and we'll put it on our website.

When does it start?
Doors are at 7.

Where's Neumo's again?
Corner of Pike and 10th on Capitol Hill.

There's an article about Becky Stark in the new Seattle Weekly, but they don't mention this event at all, not even in their readings calendar, and this is the only Seattle reading July is giving. Are they just ignoring the event because it's being put on by The Stranger?
No one knows.

Can I buy a copy of the book at Neumo's?
Yep. Elliott Bay Book Company, our bookstore sponsor, is going to be there.

I have a question I want you to ask Miranda. Will you ask it?
Sure, or you can ask it during the audience Q&A. If it's something you can only ask in the cozy bliss of Slog-commenter anonymity, go ahead and put it in the comments and we'll see what we can do.

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 16 at 12:00 PM

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Zoo

(CONFLICT OF INTEREST) In 2005, Variety reported that Police Beat—a movie directed by Robinson Devor and adapted by Charles Mudede from his column in this paper—had been accepted to Cannes, the world's most prestigious film festival. That information turned out to be premature and untrue. This year, however, Mudede and Devor's dreamy documentary Zoo is in. The Frenchies get to contemplate the Enumclaw horse fucker in a couple of weeks Sunday. Your turn is now. (See Movie Times for details.) ANNIE WAGNER


Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 15 at 12:00 PM

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Salon of Shame

(PUBLIC CATHARSIS) After a legendary run at the Rendezvous, the Salon of Shame—the reading series featuring pros, amateurs, and diarists revisiting the most humiliating writing of their lives—moves to the Capitol Hill Arts Center. The last Salon I caught knocked me out with palpable pathos, deep hilarity, and the inimitable cadence of junior-high journal entries. These things sell out, advance tickets recommended. (Capitol Hill Arts Center, 1621 12th Ave, www.brownpapertickets.com. 7:30 pm, $6 adv/$7 DOS, 21+.) DAVID SCHMADER

Kiki & Herb: Now Tony-Nominated!

posted by on May 15 at 9:35 AM

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This morning, po-mo cabaret geniuses Kiki & Herb added another honor to their roster, becoming the first Wu-Tang-interpreting half-drag act to earn a Tony nomination.

Congratulations to the peerless K&H, who only have to beat a soul-searching ventriloquist to claim their Tony for Best Special Theatrical Event. Tune in to the CBS awards broadcast on June 10 to see how it all shakes out.

(Congratulations as well to Duncan Sheik, who's "barely breathing" under an avalanche of nominations for his Spring Awakening, and to Christine Ebersole, who should easily claim Best Actress in a Musical for her amazing double-turn in Grey Gardens. Full list of nominees here.)


Monday, May 14, 2007

Hungry for Film Noir?

posted by on May 14 at 3:24 PM

Over at SIFFblog, they're wondering what's up with the rumored Noir City mini-festival at SIFF Cinema.

As it happens I got an email from programmer Anita Monga with the final lineup last week. Here's what's playing at Seattle's first Noir City (all double features priced at $10, many with an intro by Eddie Muller), running July 6-12 at SIFF Cinema:

July 6: Thieves' Highway w/ Deadline at Dawn

July 7: Pitfall w/ Woman on the Run

July 8: Desert Fury w/ Leave Her to Heaven

July 9: 99 River Street w/ Framed

July 10: I Love Trouble w/ Pushover

July 11: The Spiritualist (AKA The Amazing Mr. X) w/ Nightmare Alley

July 12: Scarlet Street w/ Wicked Woman

Earlier, Monga had promised Jeopardy, which fell through, but it looks like a great lineup, with a healthy dose of shady Bs.

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 14 at 12:00 PM

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Jhumpa Lahiri

(READING) Okay, we all know Seattle Reads only picked The Namesake because it was being made into a movie. And the movie was not so great. But the novel, by Pulitzer Prize—winning author Jhumpa Lahiri, is the kind of unfussy, empathetic storytelling that you stay up all night to finish. This will be a fantastic reading (and not just because JhuLa—as I like to call her—is a total hottie). (Museum of History & Industry, 2700 24th Ave E, 324-1126. 7 pm, free. Additional events Tues, see www.spl.org for details.) ANNIE WAGNER


Sunday, May 13, 2007

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 13 at 12:00 PM

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Mommie Dearest

(MOTHER'S DAY MASSACRE) Today is Mother's Day. Have you called your mother? Good. Now take a humongous bong hit and head to Cinerama, where this morning brings Mommie Dearest, the 1981 biopic that made Joan Crawford a child-abuse icon, ruined Faye Dunaway's career, and thrived in infamy. Make no mistake: Mommie Dearest sucks. But Ms. Dunaway's fearless exertions elevate overacting to the status of an Olympic event. Plus: free pre-screening doughnuts! (Cinerama, 2100 Fourth Ave, www.seattlequeerfilm.org. 10:30 am, $12.) DAVID SCHMADER


Saturday, May 12, 2007

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 12 at 12:00 PM

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Conceptions of Space

(BEAUTIFUL GEEKERY) Each drawing by Lun-Yi Tsai (a Seattle-based artist who has been a research fellow at MIT) is based on a mathematical theory. Dan Pollack's Wormhole Construction refers to Pollack's discovery of how to construct wormholes between any two points of an Einsteinian space while maintaining its structure (well, you have to maintain the structure). In a talk this afternoon, Dan Pollack will elaborate on his mathematical theories of space. Painter Margie Livingston will discuss her artistic theories of space. Other math-art events will rock the gallery on Saturdays until June 2. (Shift Studio, 306 S Washington St, www.shiftstudio.org. 3 pm, free.) JEN GRAVES

and

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Blue Scholars

(LOCAL HIPHOP) The current surge in local hiphop is primarily generated by Blue Scholars. There's no doubt about that. The duo, Geologic and Sabzi, sell records, pack shows, rule the local airwaves, and are distributed by a Rawkus Records, the label that launched the hiphop underground in the late 1990s. Their latest CD, Bayani, makes one thing above all clear: Blue Scholars are getting better. Go to the show and see how Seattle does its own thing. (Showbox, 1426 First Ave, 628-3151. 8 pm, $15, all ages.) CHARLES MUDEDE


Friday, May 11, 2007

The Sexual Revolutionary

posted by on May 11 at 6:08 PM

From the Guardian:

"My new book's coming out in June," Subcomandante Marcos announces with relish during the first interview he has given to a British paper in years. "There's no politics in the text this time. Just sex. Pure pornography."

Between the mask, the jungle machismo, and his tender-hearted rebel persona (did you know he travels with a deformed rooster "as a symbol of the various disenfranchised people he champions"?) Subcomandante has been a sex symbol for a long time.

Now even his erotic imagination has been harnessed to the Zapatista cause as a fundraiser. "I'm sure it will sell if we put a lot of Xs on the cover."

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Hot.

This Weekend at the Movies

posted by on May 11 at 4:42 PM

It's been a juicy week for movie news.

First, Spider-Man 3 breaks all kinds of records.

After famously firing its book critic, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution announced it's giving the boot to its film critic too. (Via Thompson on Hollywood.)

The U.S. Treasury Department is going after Michael Moore for a stunt (accompanying sick people to Cuba for free medical coverage) portrayed in his new movie Sicko.

Cigarettes smoked by adults may be enough to push a movie's MPAA rating up a notch, according to new guidelines adopted yesterday.

Warner Bros. has cancelled their Canadian preview screenings of the new Harry Potter, Ocean's Thirteen, and the rest of their 2007 slate, citing piracy concerns. (Via The IFC Blog.)

The complete version of Guy Maddin's Brand Upon the Brain!—filmed in Seattle and produced by the formerly Seattle-based The Film Company—opened for a 14-show run in New York. (Greencine has the coverage.) It will not be showing in Seattle.

Opening this week in Seattle:

The long-awaited horse-fucker movie!

Zoo

Zoo, by our very own Charles Mudede and director Robinson Devor, opens at the Varsity today. We're obviously too fond of Charles to write an objective review, so please enjoy this spoof of THINKFilm's marketing strategy, featuring haters and loony geniuses alike. (PS: in tiny white letters at the bottom, the text reads: "All quotations are real. Most are wildly misconstrued.")

Christopher Frizzelle is impressed by Away from Her, the gentle directorial debut of Canadian indie actress Sarah Polley, adapted from an Alice Munro story.

And in On Screen this week: The inspirational doc The Hip Hop Project ("The process is the point," says Lindy West); the inspirational movie Waitress ("massive, saccharine slices of earnest goo," says Lindy West), directed by and starring the dead indie actress Adrienne Shelly; and the not-at-all-inspirational (I hope) zombie-disease sequel 28 Weeks Later (not nearly enough originality, Bradley Steinbacher says).

In Film Shorts this week, check out a little slice of anarchy history in Sacco and Vanzetti at the Grand Illusion; Iran's answer to Bend It Like Beckham, Offside (by The Circle director Jafar Panahi), at the Varsity; the interesting Nouvelle Vague-meets-1968 Ireland doc Rocky Road to Dublin at Northwest Film Forum; and "The Idiosyncratic Cinema of Bruce Bickford" at Fantagraphics. And if you want to take your mom to the movies for Mother's Day, you have two decidedly different choices: Mommie Dearest at Cinerama and Breakfast at Tiffany's at both Big Picture locations.

Finally, the SIFF schedule is out, and it's a monster: There are over 400 movies. Tickets go on sale to the general public Sunday at noon. Peruse your choices here, or wait for our comprehensive guide—out May 24 on the stands and earlier on the web—including at least 150 original reviews.

This Grandpa says “Fuck”

posted by on May 11 at 1:46 PM

Posted by Sage Van Wing

I went to see Robert Bly last night at the University of Washington’s annual Roethke Memorial Poetry Reading. Like a concert, a reading is a moment for the artist to communicate directly to their audience. The experience can either be transcendent (a band you never really heard of suddenly shows how quirky and wonderful they are in person) or banal (you might as well have stayed at home and hit ‘play’ on the stereo). Bly’s performance last night landed squarely in the transcendent.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Bly’s work— it often struck me as preachy about spirituality and somewhat simplistic in its imitation of others. I’ve always loved his translations, though, and his importance as an activist poet is what got me to the reading last night.

Bly began the night by reading from Roethke and it was immediately clear that he was not there simply to read. After the first stanza of the first poem, Bly stopped and asked “Can you feel that?” He went back and read the stanza again.

The entire evening was punctuated by such moments of emphasis. He read nearly every poem twice. He frequently stopped to ask “Am I saying anything to you?” “You hear me?” “Do you have anything to say about that?”

After reading some Roethke, he went on to read from James Wright. And though he did stop to tell personal stories, what Bly mostly did was dissect the poetry itself. The entire evening was not so much a reading as a lecture. A defense of poetry.

But it wasn’t a boring lecture. Bly was gruff and sarcastic and quite hilarious. He’s 81 years old and looks every bit of it. But he swore frequently, calling Johnson and Bush “assholes” and telling the whole audience we’ll be “fucked” if we sit around watching too much TV. He read a poem about that punky fragrance you get when your balls have been resting in your pajamas for too long. I haven’t laughed so hard in quite a while.

I’ve spent the morning going back through the two books of his poetry on my shelf— reading them again with new eyes. I could hear his gruff voice interrupting me– “Am I saying anything to you?”— and I read the stanza again.

I tried to note down some of his best quotes from last night:

When you’re beginning to write poetry, either you complain about your mother and father, or you don’t mention them— you just talk about the world and what a good time you had last night. There has to be something in between. A poem should dip down and find something deeper. It should be like you’re going to a therapist. Except you’re the therapist.
Your job as an audience is not to make the poet think well of himself, but to take away a bit of the loneliness of being up here on stage.
When you die, the question is going to be: “Where you conscious of what you were living through?” If the answer is “No, I wasn’t, I was watching to much TV,” well, then you’re going to Hell. We must feel the pain. We must take that sadness of the times into our bodies. But we must live through it to. That’s what poetry is for.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

One Week from Tonight!

posted by on May 10 at 5:12 PM

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The book July will be reading from: Reviewed here.

The book's awesome website: Here.

Book Reviewers— Who Needs ’Em?

posted by on May 10 at 2:41 PM

Posted by Sage Van Wing

There's a great hubbub going on in the book world these days over the recent firing of Teresa Weaver, the erstwhile book editor at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. The decision comes as mainstream papers all across the country are slashing book sections and printing reviews generated by wire services or one of the larger papers (only four stand alone Sunday book review sections are left). The National Book Critics Circle is circulating a petition to re-instate Weaver, and their blog has posted a stream of entreaties from mid-list authors in favor of the petition. The New York Times, in an article last Tuesday, hinted that literary bloggers may be to blame. Blogs like Bookslut and The Elegant Variation, the logic goes, have become so popular with readers that there is no longer any market for the published book section. Others have speculated that the readers in question in fact no longer exist.

The death of the American Reader has been predicted and bemoaned for some time now. A survey by the National Endowment for the Arts found that only 47 percent of Americans can say they read a book for pleasure the previous year. Finger pointing is rampant. Jonathan Franzen blamed authors for writing high-minded literary bullshit. Ben Marcus shot back. So did Oprah. Then last month in Harper's, Cynthia Ozick dissed everyone. In a brilliant and excoriating piece, she blamed all book critics everywhere for turning into that worst of useless creatures- the book reviewer. According to Ozick:

What separates reviewing from criticism—pragmatically—are the reductive limits of space; the end is always near. What separates reviewing—intrinsically—is that the critic must summon what the reviewer cannot: horizonless freedoms, multiple histories, multiple libraries, multiple metaphysics and intuitions. Reviewers are not merely critics of lesser degree, on the farther end of a spectrum. Critics belong to a wholly distinct phylum.

She also, in a Camille Paglia-esque turn, blames literary academics:

Their confining ideologies, heavily politicized and rendered in a kind of multi-syllabic pidgin, have for decades marinated literature in dogma.

James Wood, Ozick says, is the only book critic left in this country who writes about books with an aim towards making broader literary connections. I like James Wood, but I'm a long way from thinking he's the only book critic worth reading out there. I would point her to this piece by Christopher Frizzelle. Or this one by Paul Constant.

Not to toot our own horn, but not every newspaper across the country is getting rid of their book section. It's true that the newspaper industry is changing. And the publishing industry is changing even faster. Mainstream book sections for the most part have dropped the ball in keeping up with these changes. But there ARE reviewers out there who are thinking about books in bigger, more creative ways. There are plenty of independent papers and blogs and excited book geeks writing, and thinking, and even putting on events to champion authors they love. Before we bemoan the loss of American book culture, perhaps we ought to look a little bit harder at what's actually out there.

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 10 at 1:51 PM

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SuperHeroism: The Adventures of Transitman

(ART) Christian French was a simple artist-in-residence for Sound Transit when he was exposed to dangerous levels of bureaucratic radiation. Now he wanders Seattle city buses, on a mission to save the world from banality, wearing yellow Spandex. He catalogs his conquests and disappointments as a lone man in the business of salvation with photos, comics, even the Transitman costume itself. (SOIL, 112 Third Ave S, 264-8061. Noon—5 pm, free.) JEN GRAVES


Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Zoophobia

posted by on May 9 at 12:40 PM

Ah, the Seattle Weekly film section. This week, we have...

Scott Foundas of the LA Weekly on one movie. Ella Taylor, also of the LA Weekly, on two movies. Jessica Grose, a (New-York based?) VVM freelancer, on one movie. J. Hoberman, of the Village Voice, on two movies. Nathan Lee, of the Village Voice, on two movies.

Yet mysteriously, the Seattle Weekly failed to use the admiring, hilarious Village Voice review for Zoo, by Nathan Lee. No, Brian Miller had to step in and share his opinion, which is, apparently, that men who have sex with horses are GAY.

That's right:

What do we call these men who shun women and obtain sexual gratification in the company of other men? Oh, that's right, we call them "zoo" (their secretive, whispered contraction of zoophilia), a three-letter epithet that, we'r e instructed, must be redeemed, or at least understood. Because labeling would be wrong, and so would judgment. Devor and Mudede scrupulously avoid judging—or asking any hard questions—because Zoo is all about tolerance, don't you see? Parallels must be drawn, and bigots refuted. (The easy-to-loathe, deviant-hating chorus includes Rush Limbaugh and state Sen. Pam Roach.)

Um.

Anyway, Zoo opens this Friday at the Varsity. Congratulations, Charles!

Today the Stranger Also Suggests

posted by on May 9 at 12:30 PM

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Myla Goldberg, who is the author of the 2000 novel Bee Season ("portraying the breakdown of a family and the spiritual explorations of its two children amid a series of spelling bees"—Wikipedia) and is the subject of a pretty catchy Decemberists song (the one that starts: "Myla Goldberg sets a steady hand upon her brow") will be interviewed at the Tractor Tavern by Stranger staff writer Eli Sanders. Sanders hasn't said what he'll ask, but the questions are sure to be good and Jewish: Sanders recently wrote about Jewish history in Washington State, both he and Goldberg grew up in Jewish households, the family in Bee Season is Jewish, and the event is produced by Nextbook, the Jewish literature organization. Tickets are $6—$8. CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 9 at 12:00 PM

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Drawing Space

(Art) They designed the hot new Lawrimore Project space. They won the Stranger Genius Award. Now, Lead Pencil Studio—Annie Han and Daniel Mihalyo, recent winners of this year's Rome Prize—have their first solo show at Lawrimore. The preview photos promise one installation, Arrival at 2 am, 2007, that looks both minimal and objective, and as romantic as a remembered shadow. (Lawrimore Project, 831 Airport Way S, 501-1231. 10 am—5 pm, free.) Jen Graves



Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Twenty-Year Director of the Henry Art Gallery to Step Down

posted by on May 8 at 5:01 PM

"Congratulations," I told Richard Andrews this afternoon when I learned he was planning to leave his job in February.

"Thanks," he said after a short pause, seemingly never at a loss for civil words even when the comment he's responding to is slightly ... off. "I mean, a couple of other people have said the same thing to me, and I guess that's the right thing to say."

"Yes, right," I said. "I didn't know quite what to say, actually. I guess it's a good thing. You're getting a break, and it has been quite a while, after all."

"Well put," he said, laughing now at my awkward attempts, thankfully, instead of taking offense.

I do mean them kindly. Andrews is the man who has been in charge of the Henry Art Gallery's emergence as an innovative force in art in the Pacific Northwest--at times, it has seemed, the only institutional force for innovation in this city--and the only real contemporary art museum in the Pacific Northwest. The Henry's trustees will do a national search for his replacement.

He says he's leaving for personal and professional reasons. Personally, after 32 years in the workforce--leading a nationally acclaimed public art program in Seattle, then going to D.C. to head up the visual arts program at the National Endowment for the Arts (when it still existed), and then running the Henry for almost 20 years--he says he could use a break. As for his involvement with the Henry, he takes quite a selfless position.

"This was an unbelievably difficult decision because I am not at all short on interest, optimism and enthusiasm for the Henry," he said in a phone interview just now. "But on the professional or institutional level I also believe that--particularly for a contemporary art institution--that an influx of new ideas that a shift in leadership can provide is a good and healthy thing. You don't ever want to be hanging on so long that you become an impediment to innovation."

It would be difficult to imagine Andrews as an impediment to innovation, considering his long record of it, from co-organizing the first Russian Constructivist show after the dissolution of the Soviet Union with the Walker Art Center to inviting Ann Hamilton's installation of yellow canaries and rooms whose walls and floors were covered in smudge marks from burning candles to this year's installations by Maya Lin. (I didn't like Lin's works, sure, but I love Andrews's record and longstanding philosophy that the most important work a museum can do is to help artists realize new artworks.)

Andrews, 57, and his wife, artist Colleen Chartier, are staying in Seattle. "Who knows what I'll do? Maybe become a zen monk. I don't know. Seems less likely," he said, in his characteristic way of throwing out something mildly surprising, and then responding to it almost academically.

Andrews recently became the president of the board of trustees for the foundation in charge of assisting James Turrell with his masterwork in the middle of the Arizona desert, Roden Crater. Turrell is turning the crater into a series of celestial observatories and art experiences, and has been working on the project more than 30 years--about as long as Andrews has been helping other artists get their work done. Andrews was an artist himself, a sculptor who earned his MFA at the University of Washington. He stopped making art while he was in D.C., when he had plenty else to do, including traveling for work and trying to be a good father for his young family.

Andrews really has been a force for other artists, including Turrell. The Henry commissioned a Turrell skyspace in 2002. Now, Turrell's big project--which still needs well over $25 million to be completed, Andrews said--is in good hands.

Andrews describes Ann Hamilton's installation experience as the ideal relationship between a museum and an artist. When she was high up in one of the museum's skylights preparing her show (all the artificial lights were turned off for the duration of the show), she kept looking down and telling Andrews, "Richard, I can't believe you're letting me do this."

Since Andrews's arrival, the Henry has grown from a staff of 5 or 6 to more than 40. The operating budget has ramped up from under $300,000 a year to $3.4 million, and the endowment has raised from $100,000 to $10 million--plus the Henry has quadrupled in physical size, with the addition in 1997 of the expanded facility designed by Gwathmey Siegel & Associates, in conjunction with LMN Architects.

Before he arrived, the mixed-repertory museum even flirted, in a series of late-19th century exhibitions, with becoming an American art museum. Andrews steered the museum toward contemporary work, and toward viewing historical work, such as the Russian Constructivism of the early 20th century, in a contemporary light.

"I hope one of the hallmarks of both my tenure here and what the Henry is, is this commitment to risk-taking and this commitment to commissioning art from artists," he said.

I love his description of the museum's sometimes-overlooked role as a university presence: "Part of our mission is to be a museum of closest approach to young people when their minds are opening up. What I hope for is that they would open the door to the Henry and. like an explorer, come in and find new vistas."

At its best, that's what the Richard Andrews Henry did for people of all ages.

Brand Upon the Brain!: No Love for the Locals

posted by on May 8 at 10:02 AM

I've bitched about this before , but this article by Dennis Lim in yesterday's New York Times really rubbed salt into my tear ducts:

Two years ago Gregg Lachow, founder of the Film Company, a quixotic Seattle production outfit, invited him to make a film — any film — with the condition that he use a Seattle cast and crew. [Guy] Maddin and his writing partner George Toles dashed off a screenplay. The shoot lasted nine days. Within six weeks of the initial phone call he had a feature in the can.

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(photo by Adam Weintraub)

The result was not just a film--it was an old-fashioned spectacle, a theatrical performance. As Lim describes it:

Conceived as a live spectacle without a pre-recorded soundtrack, it is also the closest he has come to a pure silent feature, not that purity is a pertinent concept in the case of the magpielike Mr. Maddin and his dense, crossbred melodramas.

With “Brand Upon the Brain!” he tries to reinvent the silent movie as theatrical event. The film had its premiere in September at the Toronto International Film Festival with an orchestra, a singer (billed as a castrato), an interlocutor (a tradition derived from the Japanese art of benshi) and sound effects by Foley artists in lab coats.

After a few successful stagings--“Brand” was also presented at festivals in New York and Berlin and named one of the best films of 2006 by Manohla Dargis in The New York Times--Mr. Maddin is now taking his show on the road across America.

Where's this grand tour headed, you ask? Fifteen shows in New York (with guest narrators like John Ashbery and Laurie Anderson, not to mention Lou Reed and Justin "Kiki" Bond), four in Chicago, one in San Francisco...

... and not a single one in Seattle.

And please don't tell me the pale imitation print with a stupid recorded soundtrack is coming to the Egyptian on July 8, because the stupid film was--let's return to the tape--"conceived as a live spectacle without a pre-recorded soundtrack".

I want my castrato! I want my foley artists! I want somebody to pony up the cash and get this thing here immediately. SIFF, you've failed me. SIFF Cinema, you've failed me. Landmark, Northwest Film Forum, Town Hall, On the Boards, you've failed everyone in Seattle. Surely somebody could have made this happen.

What the fuck is the point of making movies in Seattle, Gregg Lachow, if you won't even show them here? Not everyone has the luxury of jetting off to the Toronto International Film Festival to see the products of their fair city. I am deeply disappointed.


Monday, May 7, 2007

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 7 at 11:58 AM

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In the Pit

(Film) While Seattle squabbled over a viaduct with a "blue-collar" view, Mexico City was building an 11-mile elevated freeway for the ease of its upper classes. This is a brilliant study of its construction and workers—their dangerous workplace, sexual taunting, and philosophical resignation to the fact that they will never own the cars their monument is intended to serve. A shrieking, noise-based score makes the mystical claim of some of the laborers—that for every bridge built, the devil takes one soul—seem almost persuasive. (Varsity, 4329 University Way NE, 781-5755. See Movie Times, page 93, for details, $6.25—$9.25.) Annie Wagner



Friday, May 4, 2007

This Weekend at the Movies

posted by on May 4 at 3:29 PM

The news:

Spider-Man 3 sux, but is still set to rake in cash.

The Guardian on misogyny in torture porn and Jodie Foster jonesing to play Leni Riefenstahl.

Tribeca handed out a bunch of awards; the only film I can presently confirm will play Seattle is NY Loves Film winner A Walk into the Sea, a doc about a Factory collaborator and lover of Andy Warhol's. It's in the Alternate Cinema lineup at SIFF, scheduled for Sat May 26 at 6:30 pm and Sun May 27 at 9:15 pm. And it's a good one.

The SIFF schedule will be released next Thursday, May 10 (official site); tickets are available to the general public starting May 13. So far, they've announced a spotlight on Anthony Hopkins, who'll touch down in Seattle for a spell—his recent experimental film Slipstream (called "a leap into stunning self-indulgence" by Variety) is the news hook.

Opening today:

Spider-Man 3

Bradley Steinbacher reviews Spider-Man 3. Oh, Raimi. What were you thinking?

Crotchety old Francis Veber spreads on a thin layer of French farce in The Valet. Andrew Wright weighs in.

In On Screen this week: Stupid, stupid terrorism thriller Civic Duty (the crawl at the bottom of the cable news shows goes BACKWARD, for fuck's sake), mopey cyclist biopic The Flying Scotsman (the velodrome sure is exciting, but can we have fewer shots of grown men weeping in corners, please?), and the whiskey-soaked pirate adventure Disappearances ("makes up for its small-budget, straight-to-video feel with an amateur charm," says Brendan Kiley).

Recommended week-long runs: bizarre incest freakout Madeinusa at Grand Illusion, Vancouver-shot Doug Coupland comedy Everything's Gone Green at the Varsity, and the spectacular Mexico City doc In the Pit at the Varsity, about the construction of a massive elevated freeway (especially recommended for all the transportation geeks who hang out on this here Slog) and the wry, romantic, funny, macho, and/or wife-beating workers who give away years of their lives to see it built. Plus: Silent Movie Monday (Harold Lloyd!) at the Paramount, 16mm Magnificent Ambersons for those of you cinema purists who wanna have your celluloid and eat pizza too at Central Cinema, and the microcinema showcase Independent Exposure, also at Central Cinema.

In the Pit

I Saw Spider-Man 3 Last Night, I Didn't Hate It

posted by on May 4 at 12:12 PM

But I did think it got pretty ridiculous at times.

And Steinbacher's review of the film is pretty right on, I just tend to be more forgiving of all the crimes the film commits.

Specifically, a chair-twirling, snap-heavy routine to the tune of "Fever" (all that's missing is jazz hands), which Peter performs on the dance floor of a crowded club in an effort to turn Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst) crimson with jealousy. It's the sort of astonishingly awful scene that can sink an entire film, and it marks an unfortunate turning point in Spider-Man 3. Up until that moment, director Sam Raimi had delivered a painless, if overly familiar, third installment to the franchise. As Peter makes like a touring member of Chicago, however, the vessel springs a major leak, quickly turns aft in the air, and sinks.

Yeah, that part made me cringe too. But what I couldn't shake, as I left the theater close to 3 am last night, was the transformation Spider-Man made when he came into contact with that "alien-bred puddle of black goo."

Steinbacher says:

That last one is some nasty business, able to bring out the very worst in any individual unlucky enough to come into contact with it. For Peter Parker rival Eddie Brock (Topher Grace), this means transforming himself into the mangy-toothed Venom; for the far less flashy Peter, on the other hand, it means rakish bangs, a cocky strut, and an unfortunate tendency toward Great White Way–style dance numbers.

And I say, more than anything, that goo just made Peter Parker look like the awkward and geeky little brother of 30 Seconds to Mars frontman Jared Leto in his heavy-eyeliner and stupid haircut phase.

You can't tell so much in this photo, but watch for it in the movie—the resemblance is hilariously uncanny sometimes.

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Of course Best Week Ever thinks he looks like Hitler.

So maybe he's a Hitler/Leto love child?

Hot.

Re: Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 4 at 12:10 PM

And if you can't get into the Yard Dogs/Circus Contraption show, try your luck at Re-bar.

Tonight is also the first night of the extended run of Dina Martina's malapropping, pink-eye-fighting, lame-in-lamé B-Sides.

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Her shows have been sold the fuck out for weeks—now's your chance to see some new bits from the NYC and Provincetown gigs and a few old goodies. (Personal favorite: the Bryman College commercials.)

Get your tickets here. And now.

Today the Stranger Suggests

posted by on May 4 at 12:01 PM

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Yard Dogs Road Show and Circus Contraption

Circus Contraption is more cirque noir—a romantically shabby, Euro-bordello feeling, all accordions and tassels and faded red velvet. The Yard Dogs (from San Francisco) are more nü-vaudeville—electric guitars and burlesque dancing and flashy magic tricks. They've both got great skills and great bands—seeing them on the same stage will be a sword-swallowing, fire-eating, trapeze-swinging joy. (Showbox, 1426 First Ave, 628-0888. 8 pm, $18 adv/$20 DOS, 21+.) Brendan Kiley


Time to Go

posted by on May 4 at 2:10 AM

Tonight, I spent a good 2 1/2 hours wandering around the Seattle Art Museum during a preview event, marveling again.

I'm telling you to go. At 10 am Saturday the doors open. They remain open for 35 hours straight, until 9 pm Sunday.

I saw people stretching their legs. Stretching their legs. Yes, the Seattle Art Museum is now so large that it can not really be covered properly in a single visit. Know what this means? That it is no longer a place largely suited to tourists, but instead to repeat visitors, committed visitors, locals, scholars, careful lookers.

"How do you like the new museum?" one man asked another tonight.

"It's like a museum now," the other one answered.

In my review of the new SAM experience (the story also has a great slideshow), there were several things I couldn't mention because I just didn't have enough room.

First, the most shocking work of art in all the museum* is the painting that hangs in the special-exhibitions gallery to the right of Matta's gaseous-green geometric-surrealism painting. It looks, as one artist told me tonight, like something thick and graphic, like Jean Dubuffet. It has arrows pointing in various directions, and is brightly colored. Are you ready for this? It's a 1964 painting by Eva Hesse. Do. Not. Miss. It. It caused another artist to proclaim, "I never knew she was a tube-squeezer!"

(If you're interested, there's an essay on Hesse and color in the current edition of October.)

Another unsung thing to behold: the circa-1600 Italian room, made of wood and never before seen (or smelled--smell that wood smell) at SAM.

More: the Chinoiserie room on the fourth floor, decked in Belgian tapestries.

And: the 1640s oil painting Boys Blowing Bubbles, also on the fourth floor, which SAM curator Chiyo Ishikawa, in her research for the reopening, recently re-attributed to the female artist Michaelina Woutiers, about whom I know nothing and am thoroughly curious. (The painting has been in SAM's collection since 1958.) As Ishikawa pointed out, the bubbles are 350 years old and still haven't popped.

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Anyway, have fun. I won't lay a bunch of stuff on you all at once--or any more than I already have. Do go. You'll be glad you did. (Although the Larry Bell fans in the house should return on Tuesday, when the fragile transparent cube by Bell will be replaced in the minimalism gallery after the opening crush.)

*(Sadly, SAM doesn't have seductive high-res images of any of these things on its web site ...)


Thursday, May 3, 2007

Attention Filmmakers

posted by on May 3 at 5:18 PM

Northwest Film Forum's fancy live auction is Saturday, but you can bid on the online auction for filmmakers right now—the auction's ending in an hour in a half. There are some sweet items, and plenty don't have bids yet:

1) One hour pitch with renowned producer Peter Newman. He has produced movies like The Squid and the Whale, Smoke, The Secret of Roan Inish, and the TV show Grey’s Anatomy. The winner will have to meet him in New York.

2) One hour meeting with New York film producer Scott Macaulay.
Another New York prize, the winner can get advice from the producer of Raising Victor Vargas, Idlewilde, Gummo and Julien Donkey Boy. He’s also the editor of Filmmaker Magazine, so you can talk about film writing if you want to.

3) One hour meeting with New York casting director Adrienne Stern.
This one also takes place in New York, where you can talk about creating a plan to cast your film, or ask her about her connections to Sundance.

4) Three hours of feature fundraising and budget advice from cult filmmaker Jon Moritsugu (Mod Fuck Explosion). He lives somewhere around Seattle, so the meeting would probably be here or maybe in L.A. He’s made a handful of underground features and is in a position to give some good advice.

Other auction items include meeting with Academy Award-nominated documentary filmmaker James Longley (Iraq in Fragments) and a meeting with the Seattle International Film Festival’s Artistic Director Carl Spence to talk about festival strategies, poster designs, production budget consultations, and a whole lot of other stuff.

$125 for documentary advice from Stranger Genius James Longley? Shit, I almost want to bid.

Info about the live auction and gala here.

Flippin' Like a Pancake, Poppin' Like a Cork!

posted by on May 3 at 3:07 PM

The theme song to The Banana Splits has been torturing me all day. I hereby pass that torture on to you. Enjoy.