Seattle Blog by TeenTix Newsroom

There is something a bit nostalgic every time spring rolls around. The familiar whiff of flowers that brings to mind the warmer seasons. For those of us going to school, the end of the year starts to come into crisp focus. And best of all, the days grow longer, giving us just a little more time in the day to play. At TeenTix, we like to play by enjoying art. If you would like to join us as we use our new daylight hours, consider visiting the TeenTix calendar for a full list of arts events happening this month. Let us also recommend a few of the April events that we are most looking forward to.

As the weather gets warmer and students get restless, it’s a great month to take a look at some old favorites. If a nostalgia trip feels like the right thing for you this time of year, come down and see a musical adaptation of the classic, fun kid’s book Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! at Seattle Children’s Theatre. Or if you want to engage in some more mature forms of art, Pacific Northwest Ballet will be presenting the unforgettable Swan Lake. Even if you are not much of a ballet enthusiast, this age-old story is truly a delight to watch for everyone, and the dancers performing are sure to be talented and creative.

Immediately after the lights went down on Teenage Dick, there was complete and utter silence in the theater—silence that carried through the lobby and out the doors. Seattle Repertory Theatre has managed to make Richard III, one of Shakespeare’s many boring histories, worthy of stunned silence.

Shakespeare’s original tragedy features King Richard, a hunchback, who is determined to ascend to the throne by any murderous means necessary. He succeeds, but it comes at the cost of his allies, sanity, popularity, and his young wife Anne.

A common misconception of children's plays is that they are way too simplistic to hold any appeal to anyone over the age of eight years old, but what most people don’t understand is the very fine line that the writers have to maintain of humor and clarity throughout the entire duration of any play aimed towards a younger demographic. Red Riding Hood, written by Allison Gregory and directed by Steven Dietz, does this perfectly. Red Riding Hood is an adaptation of the classic fairy tale in which Little Red Riding Hood ventures into the woods to deliver a basket of food to her sick grandmother. Upon her arrival, she finds a wolf disguised as her grandmother, resulting in Red Riding Hood’s death. Of course, there are hundreds of different retellings of this story, each a little bit different. Still from Red Riding Hood presented by Seattle Children's Theater. Photo by Angela Sterling.

The play begins with Wolfgang (Conner Neddersen) starting to rehearse his one-man show adaptation of Little Red Riding Hood. One of the many things that make this play unique is that it is a play within a play, meaning you, the audience member, are essentially watching these characters while they practice for their upcoming performance. Wolfgang dawns massive furry gloves, this comical accessory setting the stage for many laughs to come. While at the climactic moment where Wolfgang mimes devouring Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother, a delivery woman (Claudine Mboligikpelani Nako) enters the stage holding a mysterious package. This package will be a subject of Wolfgang’s suspicion for practically the entire play, with frequent requests from Wolfgang to see what’s inside. This is when the delivery woman resolves to assist Wolfgang in telling the story because according to her, he was not telling the story accurately. After a good amount of pushback on Wolfgang’s side, he gives in to letting her join his show. For the rest of the play, the two switch parts between Red Riding Hood, the wolf, Red Riding Hood’s mother, and Red Riding Hood’s grandmother, a fantastic direction for the play to take. Once settling on their roles, the delivery woman as Red Riding Hood, and Wolfgang maintaining his role as Wolfgang, the story continues. The pair venture through the forest on the way to Grandmother’s house, Wolfgang attempts to eat Red Riding Hood a few times, and many, many, wolf puns and absurd jokes later, they finally arrive at Grandmother’s house. Still from Red Riding Hood presented by Seattle Children's Theater. Photo by Angela Sterling.

When you walk to the back of Seattle Asian Art Museum, across from the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over Volunteer Park, you experience a neon vision. The museum’s Embodied Change: South Asian Art Across Time starts here with Chila Kumari Singh Burman’s visual art piece Kali (I’m A Mess). With this commencing motif, Burman uses a historically revered Hindu goddess to reflect on societal concerns from the year of its conception, 2020. The words “I’m A Mess” glow above a technicolor image of Kali, eyebrows raised and tongue out. Although this is not a message commonly associated with the figure, Burman uses Kali as a symbol of rebellion and liberation to ask the question—“Can Kali drive time forward into a brave new world where we are no longer a mess?” In the 6th century, the Hindu philosophical text Devi Mahatmyam, or “Glory of the Goddess,” denoted when the worship of the female body became a part of Hindu tradition, which set the stage for works like Burman’s in the 21st century.

Burman’s work demonstrates how historical images, the ones deep rooted in cultural history, can be used to make implications about our modern world. This idea is echoed throughout this exhibit. Although South Asian Art cannot be defined as one thing, as South Asia and South Asian identities do not take a singular form; as she shared in an interview, it was a goal of the curator Natalia di Pietrantonio, “to show the expanse of the South Asian field by purposely including artists from across the diaspora.” This idea of dynamic identity and reclamation are echoed throughout Embodied Change and are told through the lens of the human body, specifically the female form. One thing that I believe unites these works is the burden of inheritance. There are certain things that we inherit through our heritage without us making the choice to do so. What we do choose, however, is how we carry this inheritance.

YA author, Erika Lewis, introduces a variation of the Harry Potter series filled with magic, sorcery, and a Hogwarts-like institution: The Academy of the Unbreakable Arts. As we travel through the tale of the main character, Kelcie Murphy, we question what home truly is and how it builds our identity. While Kelcie Murphy and the Academy for the Unbreakable Arts allows readers to think deeply about the world around them and their own individual lives, it lacks originality as it is nearly identical to the Harry Potter series.

Kelcie was raised in Boston, in what the sorcerers in the book deem the Human World. She was passed on to several foster families throughout her childhood, and like many foster children, Kelcie dealt with uncaring families who treated her with cruelty and inhumanity. Throughout the book, she constantly mentions that she doesn’t like to remember “those times,” emphasizing the trauma her experiences left her with. However, they have also made her a responsible young person. At just 12 years old, Kelcie thinks ahead, knows how to defend herself, and is independent. Her background is very similar to J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter, who grew up with an unfair aunt and uncle who mistreat him within their home.

“The moment you think you understand a great work of art, it's dead for you.” - Oscar Wilde

I enter On The Boards with a friend. After spending a year awaiting the final installment of A Thousand Ways, a series of controlled encounters between strangers, I am thrilled to see what theatremakers Michael Silverstone and Abigail Browde of 600 HIGHWAYMEN have created.

Cannibalism, capitalism, and class struggle come together in Stephen Sondheim’s darkly humorous satire, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, beautifully adapted by director Tim Burton for the screen. Songs are cut down and some slashed altogether, shaving an hour off of the stage show’s runtime. The pacing keeps things engaging, and, unless you’re a diehard fan of the original Broadway production, it’s hard to tell anything’s missing. The film manages to do what many other stage-to-screen adaptations miss the mark on—making a movie that stands on its own.

After spending fifteen years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, mild-mannered barber Benjamin Barker (Johnny Depp) returns home with a thousand-yard stare, a newfound cynicism, and a new name—Sweeney Todd. His last shred of hope is shattered when he discovers his wife Lucy (Laura Michelle Kelly) is dead and his teenage daughter Johanna (Jayne Wisener) is in the custody of the corrupt Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman) who had him sent away. Promising revenge on the aristocrats that ruined their lives, Sweeney and down-on-her-luck baker Mrs. Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter) hatch a delectable plan. But as they build a business off consuming the rich, they too are consumed—Sweeney by violence and Mrs. Lovett by greed—becoming the very things they swore to destroy. After all, you are what you eat. Johnny Depp in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) directed by Tim Burton.

Michael Schur in Conversation at Seattle Arts & Lectures explores the intersection of comedy, philosophy, regret, and hope. Although it is not a narrative experience, Schur’s humorous anecdotes and philosophical ramblings are as cohesive and entertaining as most stand-up comedy sets.

Schur is one of the brilliant minds behind many popular modern sitcoms, including The Office (U.S.), Parks and Recreation, and The Good Place. He also served as president of the Harvard Lampoon and led Weekend Update at Saturday Night Live. George Meyer, a former writer of The Simpsons, joins Schur to facilitate the dialogue. If you were wondering, yes, this is what non-denominational comedy heaven looks like. Michael Shur in Michael Shur in Conversation. Photo by Libby Lewis Photography.

The Mystery of Irma Vep, written by Charles Ludlam and performed by Intiman Theatre, centers on the Mandacrest estate in some nondescript Victorian setting, haunted by the recently-passed ghost of resident Lord Edgar’s former mistress as he attempts to move on with his second wife Lady Enid. There are mummies, werewolves, mistaken identities, and plenty of campy comedy to go around as only two actors perform a series of quick costume changes to portray the colorful cast of characters.

From a technical standpoint, the performers—Jesse Calixto and Helen Roundhill—pulled off the production near-flawlessly. The only unintentional slips I could discern were a few misalignments with sound effects and a brief hesitation in dialogue, both of which I qualify as the lowest form of nitpicking possible for a performance of any kind. In every other sense the night ran flawlessly as far as I could tell, the advertised 35 quick costume changes working seamlessly as characters deftly left and entered stages with mere seconds (and often, off-stage line deliveries) to do brisk wardrobe switch-ups. I expected to keenly notice the fact that only two characters could share the stage at once, but I scarcely considered that fact, a testament to the playwriting and both actors’ nearly flawless deliveries. Helen Roundhill in The Mystery of Irma Vep presented by Intiman Theatre. Photo by Joe Moore.

As the Seattle rains begin to let up–how much ever Seattle rains are capable of letting up– flowers are blooming and Spring is in the air, and so are a blossoming reprieve of arts events! The vibrant and vivid colors of March are glistening in all of our curated events this month, as you get to reimagine pop culture and history through an evolving, artistic lens.

If you’re a fan of fairy tales, come see how Seattle Children’s Theatre puts a new spin on a classic Grimm story with Red Riding Hood. In this adaptation of the iconic red-caped heroine’s tale, a mysterious delivery driver questions the integrity of world-renowned actor Wolfgang, sparking a wild adventure. In Teenage Dick at Seattle Repertory Theatre, another classic, Shakespeare’s Richard II, is reimagined as a twisted, modern high school revenge tale.

Journalism has a natural affinity to the arts. Plays and movies require less expertise to analyze without being questioned by experts—that is, you don’t need a degree in film studies to write a good article on The Empire Strikes Back. Hyper-specialized tech fields like espionage and intelligence politics are the very opposite. Where art is public, intelligence is private, and many people have little to no understanding about how critical agencies like the CIA or FBI work.

Here is where people like Amy Zegart come in. Her book Spies, Lies, and Algorithms covers intelligence agencies and their related fields in a human, comprehensible light, and in Town Hall’s The History and Future of Espionage in the U.S., she talks with KUOW executive producer and Town Hall regular Ross Reynolds about why that coverage is so important.

In the two-person domestic drama Monsters of the American Cinema, ArtsWest invites audiences to confront the most difficult of demons: those in our own homes. Monsters follows the story of Remy Washington, a Black man who takes care of his dead husband’s straight, white teenage son, Pup. They bond through a shared love of classic monster movies, but tensions arise when Remy learns that Pup bullies a gay teen at his school, and frequently uses the n-word around his friends. Has Remy raised a monster? Meanwhile, Pup’s childhood nightmares of ghosts and monsters return with increased severity.

The 2021-2022 season When We Wake was curated by a cohort of ArtsWest leaders and Associate Artists over the course of eight months, focusing on themes of community, collective healing, and the power of storytelling. Unlike the first show of the season, We’ve Battled Monsters Before, which primarily explored cultural heritage through the lens of joy, Monsters of the American Cinema leaves audiences intentionally uncomfortable, contributing a more disturbing perspective to the discussion of identity prompted by the former.

The wonderful thing about pessimism is that even if something bad happens, at least you can say, “I was right!”. In 2021, many foolish optimists thought the pandemic was nearly over. Consequently, our shared desperation as we celebrated the first pandemic-aversary, shaped much of the art that was created, leading to some of the most vulnerable, unique stand-up specials of all time.

“What? Stand-up comedy? That’s not art,” says a beret-clad man after buying a canvas some paint fell on for 72 million dollars. I hate to break it to you, buddy, but one of the fundamentals of art is that we don’t get to decide what it is or isn’t. Like all other art, stand-up communicates fresh perspectives through abstract presentation, finding entertainment value in its thoughtfulness. With streaming services such as Netflix on the rise, the medium is currently more accessible than ever. However, since it was not initially intended to be experienced digitally, artists have new constraints and creative opportunities.

Hotter Than Egypt, written by Yussef El Guindi and directed by John Langs, is a captivating play that you will be increasingly drawn into as the story unfolds. I was lucky enough to witness the world premiere at A Contemporary Theater (ACT), eleven years after El Guindi began Hotter Than Egypt during the Egyptian Revolution. The play follows two separate couples with seemingly little in common, as their lives become more and more intertwined. The plot plays on common tropes such as American ignorance to other cultures, and middle aged couples who have lost the spark in their relationship. The play has an intimate feeling throughout, taking unexpected and original turns while expressing enlightening commentary on broken marriages and power dynamics. This play declared it’s excellence to me through well developed characters, fabulous set design, riveting and topical social commentary.

The play follows Jean (Jen Taylor) and Paul (Paul Morgan Stetler), a white American couple from Wisconsin, on their travels in Cairo. They leave their college age children behind to embark on a trip to celebrate their 24th wedding anniversary. It is revealed later that their trip was planned to coincide with Paul’s work trip. While in Cairo, long-buried troubles within their marriage begin to surface as they interact with recently engaged Egyptian tour guides, Maha (Naseem Etemad) and Sief (Wasim No’mani). They soon find that working through their issues will not be easy, as the couples’ lives become increasingly complicated. Ahmad Kamal’s role as a boat driver, museum guard and door person really bring the setting to life. His range pulls the story together and allows for the play to feel more dimensional adding in plots that would otherwise be difficult to explore with only the two couples.

The stage opens to a quaint, wooden room. There is nothing but a small bookshelf and desk to the right, and to the left, a bare bench and coat hanger. An American flag stands basked in the bright glow of a spotlight. Littered about the theatre, there are signs that read: “We demand equal rights now!”, “Jim Crow must go!”, “We demand voting rights now!”, and “In freedom we are born, in freedom we must live!”.

Fannie: The Music and Life of Fannie Lou Hamer begins with Fannie Lou Hamer—usually played by E. Faye Butler, but for that afternoon’s show by Shaunyce Omar—walking onto the stage to speak at a podium. Hamer’s voice is loud and captivating as she begins her retelling of attempting and failing to vote when suddenly, the podium is pulled away. President Lyndon B. Johnson has ordered a spontaneous conference at the White House solely to take away the focus from Hamer’s testimony. This scene, simple as it may be, makes you angry on Hamer’s behalf and is our first taste of the heart-wrenching injustices that will take place later on.

Following a post-lockdown debut of Babette’s Feast, Taproot Theatre has hit the ground running in 2022 with an excellent rendition of the otherwise mediocre farce See How They Run. The show’s premise relies on the classic comedic trope of mistaken identities, and the resulting tomfoolery isn’t any more inventive. However, playwright Philip King’s intricate plotting and Taproot’s excellent cast make for a night of entertaining shenanigans, albeit nothing more.

The play follows Penelope, a vicar’s wife, as she attempts to have a night on the town with an old friend of hers, Corporal Clive Winton, while her husband is away. However, her foolproof plan is interrupted when a Russian spy is discovered to be on the loose.Nathan Brockett, Miranda Antoinette, and Nathan Tenenbaum in See How They Run at Taproot Theatre. Photo by Robert Wade.

Musical theatre is a beloved art form. However, fans of the genre will be the first to admit that there are a lot of unrealistic parts to musical theater: breaking into song every few seconds, random dance breaks, that one character who only talks in minute-long monologues. Unfortunately, one all-too-real problem is how inaccessible it is. Musical theater is supposed to be fantastical and fun. Even when it discusses hard topics, there are songs and elaborate dance numbers to add levity. It’s a way to escape from the real world for a while, to a place where everything is a little brighter. It’s not fair that only some people get to experience this form of escapism.

As a lower-middle class individual who loves musical theater and has grown up bouncing between Chicago and Seattle, two big theater industries, catching shows has been near impossible. Tickets are expensive and getting them for a family of four is a financial nightmare. My family tried to get tickets to Hamilton for two years before we were able to find upper balcony, back row seats that we still had to dip into our savings for. Theatre is elitist. It shouldn’t be.

Maybe the month of February, which is filled with celebrations of love, community, and sparkling pink confetti, will provide a sweet reprieve from these past bitter months. We at TeenTix certainly know that enjoying accessible art of all forms is a great way to feel the mood. The month offers a diverse selection of art events, from lectures to operas to plays—you have the freedom to choose!

Kicking the month off, the Newsroom will cover SAL’s (Seattle Arts & Lectures) exploration of complex ethical questions in conversation with Michael Schur. Schur is renowned for his work creating or writing for the shows The Office, Parks and Recreation, and The Good Place. If you’re not the biggest TV show buff, Seattle Town Hall will be hosting a discussion with leading intelligence expert Amy B. Zegart on The History and Future of Espionage in the U.S. Zegart clarifies harmful cognitive biases that the media has instilled in us about espionage, and even reveals information about the current endeavors of U.S. intelligence agencies.

“Banned! Witch Hunt,” is the first of a series of film talks at SIFF focussing on banned films and censorship throughout history. This informative two-hour workshop was communicated via a thought-provoking presentation on films banned by the U.S. government under 1920s obscenity laws. Due to COVID-19 precautions, this production was offered in a hybrid model where audience members had the option to participate in-person or view the production online through Zoom.

I engaged through Zoom, and the workshop started promptly. The presentation was effectively presented through a shared screen and the audio was extremely clear. The session was largely divided into three parts: an educational lesson on silent films, an exploration of two silent films, and a Q&A.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, many architects were guided by the maxim that “form follows function.” In the early 21st century, based on the success of shows such as Modern Family and Parks and Recreation, many television writers are guided by the maxim that “mockumentaries make money.” While story structure differs from architecture, the symbiotic relationship between the format and content of Bo Burnham’s 2013 sitcom Zach Stone is Gonna Be Famous makes for a triumph in bingeable situational comedy despite the show’s occasional lazy humor.

Zach Stone is a mockumentary series that captures the life of a high school graduate played by Burnham who chooses to use his college fund to hire a film crew to document his life rather than pursuing higher education. Each episode features a zany get-famous-quick scheme that inevitably goes awry, forcing Zach’s friends and family to save him. After one season, MTV canceled the show.