TeenTix Blog Reviews

“Figuring History,” - a powerful new exhibition at the Seattle Art Museum- insists on representation for the underrepresented. “Figuring History” features the cross-generational work of three artists—Robert Colescott, Kerry James Marshall, and Mickalene Thomas—whose paintings highlight the ways in which people of color have been traditionally left out of art and history. This exhibition changes the subject of the rich history of painting, and tells the stories of people of color from their own perspectives. This, combined with the exuberance of each artist’s work, makes this exhibition a must-see.

The exhibit begins with the paintings of Robert Colescott (1925-2009), who invokes a dream-like quality through warped figures that meld into each other in large mural-like paintings where you don’t quite know where to look. His work highlights people of color in history who many have never heard of, often juxtaposing these little known but important figures with less noble caricatures of black people. One of the first paintings in the exhibition, “Knowledge of the Past is the Key to the Future: Matthew Henson and the Quest for the North Pole,” depicts Matthew Henson, a black man who played a major role in the first team of explorers who reached the North Pole in 1906. This painting, and others in the series, highlight the lack of knowledge about the vital role people of color have played in history, and points out how detrimental that is to today's youth of color who don’t see themselves represented positively in history or popular culture.

Souvenir I, 1997, by Kerry James Marshall

This performance was very moving for me because the social issues that were brought up are happening in our world right now. I loved that throughout the piece the dancers got a chance to scream as loud as they could and let out all their anger from the injustices they experience everyday of their lives. I have not experienced the prejudice these people have, but I know how terribly they have been treated and how unfair it is that just because of the color of their skin they are treated differently.

Throughout the piece the dancers also shared stories of those who have died from not just police brutality but also from suicide. They also shed light on much less mentioned stories such as those of black trans men and women who have died that aren’t in the news as much. The whole show was supporting individuality and uniqueness which was so amazing to see. In today’s society we are taught that a certain body type or sexuality is ideal, but there isn’t an ideal person in my opinion. Everyone should appreciate and celebrate their differences, rather than putting down themselves and others because of them.

Heading into the dimly lit theater that is On the Boards to see Dani Tirrell’s Black Bois, I was met with soft blue lights, a talkative audience, and 90’s hip hop. But even with this, I could not anticipate how poignant this performance would be. Reducing Black Bois, to just “a dance piece” would be embarrassingly unjust. It is a brilliant and moving work of art, that transcends labeling it into one genre. Black Bois tells the story of how black bodies are treated, and how they reconcile and express a range of emotions.

Taking in the stage, Tirrell has arranged it in a way for the audience to always have something to look at; my eyes could roam left to right ending on the table and chairs adorned with candles. Bringing together poetry written by J Mase III and original live music written by Benjamin Hunter, Tirrell assembled an ear-catching team to compliment his choreography and the visual works of Roache the Muralist.

La Vie Magnifique de Charlie premiered in Seattle at the Langston Hughes African American Film Festival on April 20. A short film by Sewra G. Kidane, titled Proclamation Punctuation, showed before the feature film.

Official Gifs for Gee Spot Cine fashion film Proclamation Punctuation ... an homage to the exclamation point!! www.ProclamationPunctuation.com

A bright, gray light illuminates the stage, which is empty except for a tired, sagging tree; two rock-like structures made of carpet; and orange cords hanging from the ceiling. The audience, hushed, waits for thirty seconds. The stage is still. Fifteen seconds more. Nothing. People start rustling in their seats. Another fifteen seconds, and an alarm clock starts blaring. Carpets are unrolled. Nerf guns are shot. Patti & The Kid has begun. For the first half of the play, uncomfortable silence seems to be the norm. In their post-Apocalyptic world, Patti and Kid never speak; rather, the only soundtrack is the blaring of a CD player, which accompanies the two characters as they Jazzercise, eat carrots, and make coffee—completely normal activities, which perfectly juxtapose with the strangeness of the situation. Patti and Kid are wary of the area outside their carpets, and only leave their spaces when standing on a small rolling carpet square and pushing themselves around with a broom. The only technology onstage is old—the clunky CD player, the coffee maker, the alarm clock—yet clearly integral to these characters’ lives.

One starts to believe the silence is some sort of side effect from the Apocalypse. But then Tammy—the antithesis of Patti and Kid, a little girl who seems to have no problem with this new, post-Apocalyptic world—arrives with her feet firmly planted on the ground. She breaks both the fourth wall,addressing the audience directly,and whatever spell has kept Patti and Kid from speaking. While the two characters’ actions originally have the tired, monotonous air of repetition, their silence shows they have performed their morning routine so many times that no words are needed; with the entrance of Tammy, Patti and Kid move into uncharted territory, and discuss previously buried parts of their lives through cathartic monologues.

How do you expect a play to begin?

With an almost deserted stage which remains still and silent for an uncomfortably long period? A stage which, even when filled with movement, will be devoid of voice for a large portion of the play?

When Pacific Northwest Ballet premiered William Forsythe's One Flat Thing Reproduced in 2008 it caused quite a stir, polarizing audiences and prompting questions about what defines "ballet." In early versions of the Press Corps, teen reviewers tackled the debut of One Flat Thing. Read these impressions from 10 years ago, then go see it for yourself! The piece has been remounted this weekend in PNB's Director's Choice program! "Calculated Chaos" By Greta R.

A dancer's leg kicks upward at the exact moment that an adjacent dancer's arm shoots outward and hand clenches; the two are divinely connected for this second, before their bodies twist in different directions. Every limb of every dancer is on a pivot, malleable and boneless as the dancers navigate a grid of 20 metal tables that they themselves pushed onto the stage in a charging herd. A pelvis juts and a skin turns itself inside out as numerous bodies malfunction like broken toys rewired with a mistaken circuit. This calculated chaos is contained in the sounds of a long-forgotten arcade game, one that hums and whirs and occasionally remembers how to simulate a booming crash.

Last week, we were lucky enough to go see American Hwangap by Lloyd Suh at West of Lenin. The play explores the relationships of an American-Korean family, the Chuns, particularly that of the family’s estranged father, Min Suk Chun, who returns home after fifteen years to celebrate his “Hwangap” (a commemoration of his 60th birthday). Before the show, we were also able to sit down with the play’s director, AJ Epstein, to ask a few questions.

With an artist for a mother, Epstein grew up surrounded by theatre. He went to shows regularly, and his parents were very supportive of him going into an arts-related field: “I was really lucky, that… I was able to have agency over [my decision to pursue an arts-related career]”, he stated. That wasn’t the only unique aspect of his arts-related journey, we found out, as Epstein had come up through lights and sound, and got into directing only later, in college. After purchasing West of Lenin, a tiny, eighty-eight seat, black box theater, in 2009, he started producing and directing shows there. Part of the theater’s charm is its small space, which provides the audience with a much more intimate experience.

This past Sunday, I saw the classic Puccini opera Madame Butterfly at the Seattle Opera for the first time.

Going to see Here Lies Love is an experience. It is immersive and provocative and at times incredibly overwhelming. This rock musical was written by Fatboy Slim and David Byrne about Imelda Marcos, the wife of a Filipino Dictator in the years leading up to the People’s Power Revolution.

While the Rep’s 2016/17 season revolves around power dynamics, HLL would perhaps have been more fitting in the next season, titled “We are real, messy, human.” The entire duration of the play one both sympathizes and is disappointed with Imelda as she embarks on a life that seems to continually draw her further and further away from reality. HLL gives voice and accessibility to Filipino history while at the same time telling the story of a complex and struggling woman in power.

As the film opens, the voice of Samuel L. Jackson is rich and deep—almost booming. His capacity for intensity made him an arguably perfect choice to narrate this documentary. Typewriter clicks accompanied words on the screen, words from a letter written by James Baldwin to his literary agent. In the correspondence, he described the book he was writing, which would be titled “Remember This House”. After his death in 1987, Baldwin’s book remained unfinished. Director of “I Am Not Your Negro”, Raoul Peck, reimagined Baldwin’s work, integrating the manuscript with photographs and videos of not only Baldwin, but his friends Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, and others.

The film does not follow a chronological structure, nor does it develop a “linear” thesis. Instead, it is organized into many separate chapters, with titles such as “Heroes” or “Witness”. Baldwin’s manuscript opens each chapter, and is quickly woven in and out of cinematic breaks. The film acknowledged that Baldwin’s words are irresistibly applicable to the modern racial climate, seizing the opportunity to diverge from Civil Rights Era footage. The faces of Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, and others flashed on the screen toward the end of the movie.

The Things Are Against Us is a trip on the dark side of the alley when the shadows seem to move behind you. Equal parts hilarious and terrifying, this play is a story of sisterly love that leaves viewers on an emotional roller coaster, and ultimately, not sure how they’re feeling. The play blends old descriptive language with modern verbiage seamlessly in the world playwright Susan Soon He Stanton creates. Having written the play while living next to the Edward Gorey Estate, the play delves into a sense of horrifying normality where things that would normally require hours of background are addressed in a staccato fashion establishing them as ordinary and acceptable.

Though at times hard to follow, the play never loses interest. Seemingly “un-producible,” Washington Ensemble Theater brings to life the story of Solange and her sister Tessa with a beautifully and wondrously constructed set and intense and compelling on-stage relationships.

The words “let go,” sends five girls, ages nine and ten, into a surreal routine. What must be meticulously choreographed, seems somehow loose and reminiscent. One girl dances as if completely alone, twirling and waving her arms gracefully. The others run back and forth across the tiny stage, arms locked, unified as one. They trade giggles and grins as they jostle up and down. This scene is beautiful.

Besides the laughter, the only sounds are the slapping of bare feet on the stage floor, like rain on thick windowpane. Rows of tulips, or the gentle sway of a willow branch in the wind. A robin crossing my vision, alighting and settling. The acting is pure: intentionally unintentional. At its best, Employee of the Year achieves the delicate beauty of nature itself.

I am so thankful for the opportunity to go to Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Emergence. The program featured four contrasting pieces, each of which were incredibly unique, and brought a different tonality to the theater.

To begin the program, the curtain opened up to a piece titled Sum Stravinsky choreographed by Kiyon Gaines, that made its world premiere in 2012. I found it to be an excellent way to introduce the program. It is exactly what one imagines when they think of ballet–while the following pieces were extraordinarily unique and contemporary. The set and costumes are composed of shades of blue, and have a sort of delicacy to them. The dancers movements feel newly classic and youthful. I got a sense of innocence and nostalgia watching this piece.

The exhibit Intimate Impressionism from the National Gallery of Art at the Seattle Art Museum features artists many have heard of, but not always the style or subject we’re used to. The 71-piece collection from the National Gallery of Art, most of which were donated by siblings Ailsa and Paul Mellon, is comprised of works that were meant to be shown indoors, in domestic spaces. Most of these paintings were done in the 1860s and 70s, but were never shown in salons. Many were meant as gifts from the painter to a friend or fellow Impressionist, so the exact date they were made is unclear. All the Impressionists you’ve heard of are in the show: Manet, Renoir, Monet, Boudin, Cézanne, Bonnard, with a few Post-Impressionists like Gauguin and Van Gogh thrown in for good measure. Being a huge fan of Impressionism, I loved all of the paintings, but three stood out. The first I noticed was Eugene Boudin’s “Coast of Brittany”. Made in 1870, most likely in France, the oil-on-canvas painting drew my attention because of the lighting. It is dark on the foreground over the water with moody clouds, but the light drastically changes toward the center of the painting, which portrays the far-off coast. The town on the hillside is beautiful, with not more than two or three brushstrokes making up each house, but it is still obvious that is a quaint little French-countryside town. The next piece that I fell in love with was a little country scene by Alfred Sisley, called, plainly, “Meadow”. The scene depicts workers bending over, picking a nondescript grain, with other beautifully checkered fields behind them. I was drawn to this painting because it is so bright and cheery. I was also impressed with how the viewer can tell what the workers were doing, even though they are very simply done. The clouds are fluffy cotton balls on a sky of bright blue.

"Meadow" by Alfred Sisley. Photo by Harper M.

It is 1992. In Georgia, a civil war is tearing the country apart. Estonian settlers are fleeing back to Estonia to escape. In the midst of this, Ivo and his neighbor Margus, both senior Estonian men, tend to their tangerine crop. They want to stay until the last of their tangerines is harvested, despite the war that’s coming increasingly near. When two injured soldiers turn up near their houses, Ivo and Margus take them in and care for them.

Such is the premise of writer and director Zaza Urushadze’s movie Tangerines, a film that is a moving tribute to the individual people whose lives are disrupted in wartime. Though it’s set in Georgia, it could easily be set anywhere, in any war. The theme of overcoming divisions and recognizing others’ humanity is so universal it has been done a thousand times; yet this movie’s characters are such fully fleshed out people the story feels unique.

Imagine your dear, sweet mother. She’s living a very plain life, making sure the laundry is done before starting dinner, making ends meet, and generally keeping everyone alive and happy. Now imagine that mother, who couldn’t hurt a fly, is now in a punk rock band. Hard to not laugh at, right? ArtsWest is bringing that image to life. Directed by Shawn Belyea, Angry Housewives is a delightful musical about four wives and girlfriends who are sick of living in the shadows of their husbands, sons, and exes. They decide to drop their responsibilities for one week to make some money in a no-holds-barred, punk rock battle of the bands. For Carol (Ann Cornelius), the extra cash means she can keep her car after her spouse’s death. For Jetta (Chelsea LeValley), it means not having to rely on her man-child husband. And for Bev (Heather Hawkins) and Wendi (Janet McWilliams), hey, who couldn't use a little extra cash in tough economic times?

Steeped in the culture of Seattle in the ’80s, Angry Housewives is thoroughly fun. While it's fairly obviously targeted to the real-life housewives in the audience, the characters are endearing and lovable. The music is consistently funny, and all of the songs are even catchier than you could imagine. Whether you relate to Bev’s “Generic Woman” or Tim’s (Trent Moury) “Hell School,” there will be a song in this musical to sum up your life. The book, written by A.M. Collins in Seattle in 1983, really sums up the way family dynamics work when families aren’t as perfectly nuclear as they seem. None of the characters are without flaws, but none of the characters lack redeeming qualities. This balance is what makes Angry Housewives really unique; while many performances love to rely on the infallible hero defeating the sinister villain trope, the normal struggles of these four women are compelling and funny without feeling forced. Angry Housewives runs through May 24, but when you show up, make sure you do so early—the opening shows sold out fast, and so will the rest of them!

It's finally that time of year again—the time to showcase young film directors from around the world. NFFTY is a stand out among film festivals for precisely the reason stated in its title; it's "for talented youth." Don't be thinking amateur, though. The directors, all under age 24, of NFFTY's selections have the creativity, skills, and vision to put them on par with the best. These are high quality, well-produced, and impressively directed films with beautiful cinematography and compelling acting.

Spanning the weekend of April 23 through 26, NFFTY features all types of film, from comedy and drama to horror, animation, and documentary. All featured films are shorts gathered into themed groups—like Northwest Life, Edge of Your Seat, and Musical Masterpiece—for screenings. So attending one showing at NFFTY actually means seeing several films!

Before Lizard Boy even begins the actors are milling around on stage, tuning their instruments, one of them half-dancing to the ambient acoustic indie rock playing over the speakers. Admittedly, it’s confusing at first, but after realizing this is an artistic choice by the director, it sets the tone as quite intimate for the rest production.

This hilarious comic book musical—written, composed, and starring Justin Huertas as Trevor—tells the story of a boy who hasn't left his apartment in a year in the wake of a bad breakup. But in the process of looking for his ex-boyfriend on Grindr (an app like Tinder for gay male hookups), he has an adorably awkward encounter with Cary, played by William A. Williams.

A classic work of art, Swan Lake is heartrending and technically complex, and the Pacific Northwest Ballet is well up to the challenge of this amazing performance. With music by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky, who also composed The Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker, as well as complementary choreography by Kent Stowell, this is a masterful, well-choreographed, and well-rehearsed performance.

Carla Körbes is stunning in the dual role of Odette, the swan’s princess, and Odile, the daughter of the villainous Baron von Rothbart. This is also one of her last performances with PNB, as she is retiring at the end of the season. Körbes' lines and control of her body are sensual and breathtaking. She makes holding an on-pointe arabesque for more than 15 seconds look like the easiest thing in the world. She makes even the hardest moves look easy.