In which our blogger discovers one of her favorite authors

I love going to my friend Katja Seven's house. Aside from the fact that we have known each other for decades and make stupid jokes that no one else will laugh at but we know are incredibly funny anyway, she is my own personal lending library. She is a voracious reader, and usually when I stop by I leave with a pile of books. The downside to this is that I have a bit of a Paul Masson approach to books - I buy (or borrow) a ton, and most of them sit on a shelf until such time as they tell me they are ready to be read. Divining the proper time to read a book can take a tedious amount of time - I still have a Marge Piercy book on my shelf I got well over a decade ago. So probably 2+ years ago I arrived home laden with tomes, including one called The Intuitionist. Katja had kind of described it to me - something about elevators?, yadda yadda, doesn't sound that great but you liked it ok I'll take it, etc. - but as usual it ended up on an obscure shelf next to my bed.
Fast forward to June 2010. I turned in early one Friday night, wanting to start a new book. I decided to peruse the piles I'd overlooked for so long and picked up The Intuitionist. It was time. I flipped open the book and was propelled into an unexpected tale that drew me in so fast that the last thing I remember thinking before I fell asleep was to look up the author in the morning to see if he'd ever written anything else. Catchy name - Colson Whitehead.

In the morning I got up and did a search for him and found this. It was Saturday, June 19th.

Fortunately for me, Whitehead was doing a second reading in the area that very night - at Third Place Books in Lake Forest Park. I should point out here that Elliott Bay Books is about 6 blocks from my house, and Lake Forest Park is... somewhere outside the City of Seattle that carless people like me aren't likely to go. But I was so inspired by the 30 pages of this book that I figured out how to get to Third Place Books by bus (not that hard! who knew?) and trucked it out to hear the guy read from not the book I was so enthralled by.

The reading itself was an adventure - it included excerpts from his current novel, Sag Harbor, and some general storytelling related to the book's subject. Halfway through, Whitehead stopped cold - part of his papers were missing. He rifled through his materials and his bag, then excused himself and went flying around the store looking for the lost notes. He returned, flustered, empty handed, said nothing like that had ever happened to him before, then got right back to business and winged it. The man has such a way of crafting language that I'm sure the loss of a script he'd prepared was daunting, but he's also such a good storyteller that we were all putty in his hands anyway.

All this is to say that I freakin love Colson Whitehead, and you can bet I will be there on Thursday when the Stranger hosts him as part of their Verse Chapter Verse series reading from his new novel Zone One. Of course, zombies are the new vampire*, but Whitehead's alternate universes are so masterfully created I expect this to easily transcend the trend. And I'm grateful to know about it ahead of time so I can just saunter over to Chop Suey after work.

In other favorite author news, tonight Elliott Bay Books will be staying open late in order to sell copies of the new english translation of Haruki Murakami's 1Q84 starting at midnight. In the post-Harry Potter world I'm glad there are still some opportunities for book fans to geek out. Is it too much to ask if there will be theme cupcakes?

ETA: woke up Tuesday to find this on the Comics Curmudgeon blog. Did I not say that zombies were the new vampire?!?

Six Chix comic from Oct 25th 2011

Silent reading...now with music!

In case you haven't noticed, summer is officially over, but there is a silver lining to that looming cumulus...the return of the first Wednesday reading party at the Sorrento. Created by The Stranger's Christopher Frizzelle in collaboration with Night School, and curated by Michael Hebb*, the reading party began as a way for readers to get out and live a little...while leaving their noses firmly entrenched in their gorgeous, captivating tomes. As someone who's been "hem hemmed" at Café Presse and other nearby watering holes for having the audacity to want to read in a bar, the idea of an evening devoted to me and my fellow bookworms is pure heaven. The addition of guest stars is a wee bit off-putting - making it more of a hipster happening than a true party for book nerds - and I'm not sure if the live cello music will be a pleasant background or totally distracting, but I have high hopes that the shark has not been jumped on this event. Come on down and join the party! Just keep your voice down, will ya?

Oh, and I'll be the one reading Jonathan Lethem's Girl in Landscape.

"Silent" reading party listing on Slog






*this is starting to sound like the credits on a hip hop record...

Go see the film The Hedgehog. Do it now! or at least by Oct 6...

I am behind on posting about some events I saw in New York last week, but I had to get this recommendation up fast.

A friend called me yesterday to ask if I wanted to go see a film about a little girl who plans to commit suicide - but then "complications ensue". That pretty much sums up the plot of The Hedgehog, and yet not at all. I figured 'why not?', but neither of us knew what we were in for.

The girl at the center of the film, Paloma, is sensitive, wildly creative, secretive, and in matter-of-fact despair over the uselessness of life. She has planned to die on her 12th birthday, and draws a gigantic calendar on her wall to mark off her remaining days, as she hordes pills from her mother's anti-anxiety meds and films everything with her father's old Hi-8 camera. But the film isn't really about her at all - the true center of the story is Reneé Michel, the concierge of the tony 5-apartment building, who goes about her day so unobtrusively as to be almost invisible to all around her, save the requite colorful street character Jean-Pierre, and Paloma. At least until the introduction of the new tenant, Kakuro Ozu, who takes an interest in both Paloma and Mme Michel.

Okay, that sounded creepy. He takes a decidedly non-creepy interest in the two women.

At first I was thinking that Paloma was the anti-Eloise, but she's more akin to a modern Harriet the Spy. A french Harriet the Spy whose grounds start and end with her own building. Garance Le Guillermic is excellent in portraying a precocious girl in full awkward glory without making her too cute/unbearable for words. And Josiane Balasko, as Mme Michel, is just sublime.

It looks like The Hedgehog was a late substitution in the Egyptian's calendar, replacing the film Happy, Happy. This may explain the small audience that was there last night. It is playing through Thursday, Oct 6. GO!

The Hedgehog official site
Landmark Theatres page on The Hedgehog

Bummershoot

That's no typo in the title, I've got a bit of a bone to pick with the annual Seattle music and arts extravaganza known as Bumbershoot. Plenty of folks have bemoaned the soaring cost of tickets (I've lived in Seattle long enough to remember when it cost $8 a day to get in - EIGHT DOLLARS! damn!), and of course there's the plethora of people to maneuver around etc, but my gripe is based on my discipline: where the hell did all the dance go?

This isn't to take anything away from this year's dance offerings- Spectrum Dance Theater, Whim W'Him, and the Boise-based Trey McIntyre project will be performing and if you go to Bumbershoot please go see them - but three dance acts in an entire weekend is, quite frankly, lame.

Bumbershoot used to be be a great opportunity for local choreographers - it was kind of the grand finale to the season, or perhaps the jump start to the next one. You might get only one performance, you might get put in a mixed bill show, the pay wasn't great and presenting modern dance to an audience that wants first and foremost to be entertained can be a challenge, but the collision of Seattle's vivid independent dance community and an audience that isn't afraid to walk out if it's not their cup of tea made for some memorable moments. I've been fortunate to have performed in Bumbershoot twice - with choreographer Laura Curry (whose work would never be described as "accessible") in 1996 and with the Keiko Hamaguchi Dance Company in 2000 (in an exchange project put together by KT Niehoff and Velocity Dance Center), and both experiences were incredible. As an audience member, my favorite Bumbershoot moment was seeing the amazing women of D-9 perform the majority of Bebe Miller's The Hendrix Project in silence, as the rights to Jimi Hendrix's music (granted for previous performances) were rescinded within days of the festival. The opportunity to get your work in front of hundreds of people who might never otherwise see your show, or even hear your name, was a huge thrill, and getting to see peers make the most of their spot in the sun - well, it felt like the whole community got a bit of the spotlight, even if you weren't up on stage.

So what happened? I'm sure it all comes down to the bottom line. Bumbershoot is no longer the scrappy festival that focuses on the locals. The headliners are bigger names, the ticket prices are way higher, and they've cut a full day from its schedule. I'm guessing there's less room to take a chance on something too esoteric for the masses, or a group that has only performed in 150 seat theaters before. But it's too bad. Everyone loves saying what a vibrant dance community Seattle has...it would be great to make sure we show it off as often as possible.

Bumbershoot dance schedule - I love that a Kristin Hersh reading shows up under the dance listing!

This weekend: FLIGHT DECK at Open Flight Studio

I'm not sure what happened to the summer being the down time for performing arts ...this month has been beyond busy with performances and opportunities. Here's one more chance to get some summertime dance action before the real season begins: Open Flight Studio's* Flight Deck performance, featuring creative offerings from movement-based artists awarded studio residencies from May to August each year. This year's recipients are Jessica Jobaris and Rosa Vissers, and they will be joined by invited guest Victoria Jacobs.

The focus of Flight Deck is on the creative process, so what gets shown may be raw, random and/or unpolished...or not. It all depends on where the artists are in the development of their project. Open Flight itself is a bit of an adventure, located on the 2nd floor of an unassuming building on The Ave, up a curved stairway into a surprisingly airy studio. It's a nice intimate space to crawl inside a choreographer's mind for a while.

Shows will be Sat & Sun August 27 & 28, 7pm, followed by discussion.

Flight Deck at Open Flight
4205 University Way NE

* This is where I confess to having been a member of one of the original partners at Open Flight. Do not let this deter you! Flight Deck is super cool!

New York Noise

This is one of those weeks that I just don't have enough time.

Exhibit A is the New York Noise: Tales From the No Wave series at Northwest Film Forum. Three examples of the "No Wave" underground filmmaking movement, plus the Seattle premiere of the documentary "Blank City".

I just got back from seeing Amos Poe's "Unmade Beds" ~ a story set in Paris but shot quite obviously in New York City. The film starts with a woman reading a synopsis of the film in french. Even with this loose "narrative" it's hard to follow the plot, which is sort of about a photographer and sometime gangster but mostly about smoking as many cigarettes as humanly possible. Debbie Harry has an all too brief cameo at the beginning, the acting is wooden, and the sound mixing is frightful...and the whole damned thing is gorgeous.

I'd like to see "Blank City", but if time only allows for one more film this week, it'll have to be "Downtown 81", featuring Jean-Michel Basquiat (and Debbie Harry again). And Fab Five Freddie! I've been fascinated by Jean-Michel Basquiat ever since I read an article about him in Vanity Fair (don't judge!) in 1987, a year before he died. I can't miss the opportunity to see him on the screen, even if he's just guiding the viewer through Manhattan in an endless stream of randomness.

"Unmade Beds" has 2 screenings tomorrow 8/16, "Downtown 81" plays 8/17-8/18, and "Blank City" is playing in the big theater through 8/18.

can you believe this is Steve Buscemi? ME EITHER. 

(from Blank City)

Odd Duck Studio needs help!

One of the things that used to make Capitol Hill such a hotbed for performing arts was the plethora of small independent studios and theaters. No matter what your budget, there was someplace you could rehearse or put on your show. Most of those small spaces have been swept away in the tide of "revitalisation", but the Odd Duck Studio has continued on its merry way in their 49-seat theater space on 10th Avenue. Some summertime rental cancellations have caused cash flow headaches for them. Their landlord has given them an opportunity to stop the late fee madness if they can get caught up by August 15 - that's MONDAY.

Go to this page for ways to give...they owe a little more than $2K, which really isn't much, but tiny organizations tend to have very little margin for emergencies. Kudos to them for trying to get caught up before the debt gets unsurmountable. Show 'em some love and toss in a few bucks, even if you've never seen a show there.

If a blog falls in the forest, will anyone read it?

So yeah...not so much with the arts blogging this year. I wish I could say that I was too busy attending shows and exhibits to write about it, but I've missed far more events than I made. Plus there's been a growing arts lethargy I've been dealing with - a topic for another time, if it doesn't take me 7 months to post again.

But I recently ventured out on an unbelievably sunny day to go see the Mad Homes exhibit. There have been several temporary installations in recent years giving doomed spaces one last time to shine (kicked off I believe with dk pan's amazing Bridge Motel event in 2007), but this is the first of its type that I've seen in daylight, and the only one that was all visual art. The project involved 11 artists/collaborators, each of whom were given space in 4 homes slated for demolition, and works ranged from more traditional sculptures placed in the space that could be exhibited anywhere, to art that actively interacted with and in some cases became part of the structure that housed them.