TeenTix Blog by TeenTix Newsroom

The brilliant Japanese Shibuya-kei, city pop, and jazz band Lamp came to Seattle for the first time on October 3rd at Showbox SoDo. Lamp’s music is often regarded as its own genre, combining elements of bossa nova, jazz, pop, and electronic music. They use various instruments to corroborate these genres: the guitar being electronic, the melodies being pop, the vocals being jazz, and the saxophones being bossa nova.  It was their first time touring across America on the FUTURE BEHIND ME tour since their debut in 2003. 

They elated the audience with melodic, soothing, and smooth performances, playing various hit songs. You may have heard their music on media platforms such as TikTok since their rise to popularity in 2021. Though they’ve been a group for twenty years, their recent virality enticed them to tour across America. They are now known and praised by larger Western audiences and are loved for their spectacular discography. It felt novel to be one of the first audiences in America to view the greatness of Lamp. 

Do you remember how you saw the world as a kid? For me and my overactive imagination, the world was so big and full of possibility—yet things were so much simpler. As soon as I walked into Seattle Children’s Theatre (SCT) with my family, TheaterWorksUSA’s musical adaptation of Cat Kid Comic Club took me back to that vibrant simplicity.

When I was around six years old, my favorite book series was Captain Underpants. Upon first discovery, the memorable characters, irreverent humor, and innovative page-flipping fight scenes had me captivated, and after begging my parents to buy it for me, I read the book cover-to-cover… and then I immediately reread it two more times.

Whether you know it or not, you’ve certainly seen Keith Haring’s art. From being plastered on the subways of New York in the ‘80s to the classic motifs of his featured on brands like Converse and Uniqlo today, it’s no doubt that Haring is a household name, despite the tragic brevity of his career; Haring unfortunately passed away at 30 from complications due to AIDS, only 10 years into his career. The Museum of Pop Culture recently presented a special exhibition called Keith Haring: A Radiant Legacy, with over 240 pieces of his artwork on display, as well as selections from Haring’s personal art collection and work from his close friend and inspiration Angel Ortiz. The exhibit is a thorough, comprehensive overview of the artist’s life, if sometimes improperly structured. 

The first room acts as a landing depot, transporting you straight into the ‘80s.  Cyndi Lauper plays as you walk around the first room and read about Haring in his childhood, early career and life as an art student. Haring’s work is famously recognized for its iconic lexicons, so it’s no surprise that the exhibits start with the early forms of his classic figures, such as his Smiling Face, an iconic early piece which appears in many iterations throughout the gallery. The first room provides context needed to appreciate the rest of his featured work, and elaborates on his signature styles through the three sections of the gallery. Keith Haring: A Radiant Legacy. Photo courtesy of MoPOP.

As the daughter of a murder mystery fanatic, I’ve grown up learning how to guess the killer. Inevitably, some piece of dialogue or strategically placed object gives the culprit away. After all, the author always knows who their villain is, even as they try to hide it from us. Suppose, though, that there is a mystery story in which the author does not know the killer. Neither does the director or lights crew or cast. Not even the killer knows who they are until the story has begun.

Such is the case with Emerald City Slasher. This Jet City Improv production in the intimate West of Lenin theater transports audiences to the very familiar, coffee-addicted, and perpetually rainy Emerald City. The improvised murder mystery follows eight friends who are struck by tragedy once one of them falls victim to a gruesome murder. As friends are picked off one by one, they race to find the culprit before they themselves are slashed. In the first scene of the show, actors pick up cards. These cards describe characters created by audience members just moments before. The card also tells them whether they are a survivor, a victim, or… the Emerald City Slasher! No one in the cast nor crew knows anyone’s true identities until the final scene where the slasher is uncovered. My cast included characters such as Danielle, a timid zoo keeper with a fascination for mysticism; Bobby, a failed beer brewer who loves a good laugh; and John, a gruff man opposed to change, working as a window wiper at the Amazon Spheres.  The improv nature of the show gives a unique authenticity to the mystery, but unfortunately makes for an unsteady first act.The cast of Emerald City Slasher at Jet City Improv. Photo by Stephen Anunson.

On Saturday, October 5, the first “Inspired By…” play festival was performed at Seattle’s Cornish Raisbeck Auditorium. Produced by Mirror Stage, the event featured six different plays by six different playwrights, each one inspired by real, influential change-makers. Although each only ran for 10 minutes, they stood out as complete stories on their own, deeply reflecting many societal topics such as mental health, race, abortion, and more.

Despite this being the first ever Inspired By… festival, the audience was nothing short of exuberant. Upon entering, families milled about in the lobby and around the food tables, chatting happily with each other and the staff. Clearly, many were returning audience members, and they remained upbeat throughout the show.

Take 1: By Anna Melomed

How to get away with a murder? Hit Man feels like an exploration into that twisted yet universal fantasy. The film gives the audience plenty to think about as they enter the main character’s, Gary Johnston’s, world of philosophy, psychology, and justice. 

This review contains spoilers.

In every human life, there is a mother. It’s a foundational experience for most, but that doesn’t mean it’s one free of complexity or hardship. In the final concert of their 8th season, Mother, Emerald City Music combines film and music into a flawed but impactful meditation on the relationships we have with our mothers.

Mother’s program was made up of five short films and five relevant musical selections, each told through interviews with a diverse group of subjects, varying in age, race, class, and background. It began with a simple and familiar lullaby, “Wiegenlied,” by the mid-romantic icon Johannes Brahms. This gentle piece segued into the first film, “Mother is…” which explored that very question by simply asking the interviewees. Answers varied greatly, ranging from “a monster” to “an adventurer.”

Pianist Adam Neiman is a painter of sound. No note is too brief for him to color, and no piece is too simple to spin vivid images of. At the Seattle Chamber Music Society, Neiman’s program of Ravel and Rachmaninoff miniatures wasn’t monumental, but he brought out their charm. Sensitive and meticulous, he treated the audience to a jewel box of a performance—intimate, quaint, and restorative.

If McCaw or Benaroya Hall is like the Climate Pledge Arena, the Seattle Chamber Music Society is like The Vera Project. It’s smaller and focuses more on educating audiences. The audience members, who are mostly elderly, know each other on a name basis, and I got a nametag at the entrance.

It’s been a pleasure curating the events for the newsroom this year. One thing we zoomed in on was finding events from underrepresented venues and artists to push our writers into the deep zone of art critique. Although you’re guaranteed a good time at big venues such as 5th Ave., or MoPOP, branching out to explore smaller events deepens our knowledge of the arts and their impacts. Especially for teens, gaining familiarity with the corners of the arts scene in Seattle can take a rabbit hole of research and bravery. Good art is important in a community, but learning to unravel details transforms its impact. We hope you find time this summer to explore the niches of the Seattle arts scene.

Earshot Jazz has an enormous calendar of daily jazz events around Seattle. From cafes to fancy hotels, they’ve got a wide variety of performers that won’t disappoint. If you’re looking to deepen your jazz taste or try something new this is your jackpot.

For this year’s Seattle Black Film Festival, arts organization, and festival host LANGSTON Seattle paid homage to the complexity of Black experiences. The festival offered a variety of films featuring local and international Black actors, directors, and producers. The genres and styles varied from unconventional mediums, like music and dance videos, to short yet devastating films showcasing the intricacies of interpersonal relationships. I focused on short films from the series “‘Waiting to Exhale: Films from the Feminine Perspective” and was struck by how each filmmaker chose to utilize or subvert expectations placed on Black women.

The first film I watched, entitled “Dressed” (2023), challenges the idea that marriage is the pinnacle of achievement. It follows the main character through her series of misadventures trying to sell her lightly-used wedding dress. While the context behind her urgency to sell the dress remains unclear to the viewer, writer, and director Bethiael Alemayoh pushes us almost uncomfortably close to the main character, so close it feels like the viewer is an accomplice to her unsuccessful attempts to get her life together. Ann-Kathryne Mills in Dressed (2023), written and directed by Bethiael Alemayoh

It’s difficult to imagine the humanity behind a faceless entity like a corporation. With the way that many corporations are discussed in the news and media, it becomes a challenge to remember that there are people behind them and that at a certain point, the business ceases to represent them. This loss of connection and humanity was observed by Stefano Massini and captured in his play The Lehman Trilogy, a show of epic proportions that depicts the inner lives of the family behind Lehman Brothers Bank, a company widely known in part because of its eventual downfall. Ben Powers’ adaptation of the script was brought to life on stage by director John Langs and a mere trio of actors: ACT’s adaptation of The Lehman Trilogy presents an incredibly emotional, engaging elaboration on the play through the clever staging and direction, evocative performances, and impressive technical prowess. These aspects of the adaptation offer a remarkable portrayal of the Lehman family’s journey to America, their business’s rise to prominence, the painstaking power struggles against one another, and the cycle of fathers, sons, and brothers that brought the business into existence.

The play follows three generations of the Lehman family and the evolution of the family business across those generations, from humble beginnings of a fabric store in Alabama to an internationally renowned, immensely powerful investment bank. An act is dedicated to each era of the family, spanning from the 1840s to the 2000s, and with each era, a different iteration of the Lehman Brothers’ business. The first act sees the business grow in scale as the brothers are pitted against each other, through the chaos of the Montgomery fire and the beginnings of the Civil War. The second act sees the turn of the century, with the business moved to New York City and reaching new heights under the control of the family’s next generation. The business grows and grows, but faces the looming threat of the market crash by the end of act two. Finally, the third act details the harrowing struggle of the final generation of Lehmans to pull America out of the Depression. Following their success, the show takes a turn, depicting the arrogant feeling of invincibility held by the workers at the Lehman Corporation as the business transitions to one of the biggest international investment banks. The energy of the third act enraptures the viewer, to the point where the foregone conclusion of bankruptcy still felt like a shocking ending, leaving the audience reeling as the stage blacks out. The Lehman Trilogy at ACT Contemporary Theatre, photo by Rosemary Dai Ross

A green sign on a black wall of MoPOP’s Gone Too Soon exhibit, guest curated by Nabila Ahmed, asks questions like “What was your first reaction to this person’s death?” and “Did their death change the way you took in their work?”

These questions are designed for those old enough to remember the night when Robin Williams died, the day Kurt Cobain died by suicide, and the day Biggie Smalls was murdered. On the August night Robin Williams had taken his own life, my first thought was of his role as John Keating in Dead Poets Society. It seemed ironic, and deeply sad, that the teacher who had tried to save Neal hadn’t been able to save himself.

Lots of big ideas and only ten minutes on the clock: an author's worst nightmare. Or could it be something more? With their new 10-minute play festival, Inspired By… Mirror Stage sets up this thought-provoking challenge that bends and twists the limits of storytelling, allowing for playwrights, directors, and actors to shine. Inspired By… showcases six new plays that reflect the world we live in today, and the challenges we face in the Seattle community.

I had the pleasure of interviewing one of the Inspired By… playwrights, Stacy D. Flood, to find out why this is a festival truly like no other – and why, perhaps, limitations are a way to break through barriers. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Nothing ever gets old in the Market Theatre, where, for over 30 years now, Unexpected Productions has resided and produced spontaneous shows for its eager audience. As surprising as it may seem, they’re Seattle’s oldest improvisational company and have been entertaining theater-goers with nothing less than truly one-of-a-kind experiences.

Attending THIS IS FOR YOU: An Improvised Theatre Poetry Experience, which ran from April 5-28 in honor of National Poetry Month, was the first time I attended an improv show, and I was excited to find out how the performers would combine improvisation and poetry. Most of all, the idea of going to a show that would never happen again was intriguing. That’s the thing about improvisation: it’s always changing. The only constants are the actors on stage and their immense creativity.

Romeo and Juliet is the classic tragedy of star-crossed lovers who are famously doomed from the start. This version, produced by the Seattle Shakespeare Company, consists of 2.5 hours immersing the audience in beautiful language and guiding us through a complete rollercoaster of emotions.

Taking my seat in the audience at the Center Theatre, the sense of intimacy struck me immediately in the small, dimly lit space. This was heightened by the fact that the stage was on the floor, with the actors on the same level as the audience, blurring the line between performer and spectator. As the theatrical smoke wafted over us, anticipation hung in the air. Everyone sensed that something momentous was bound to happen; we just didn’t know what.

At Jet City, improvisation is the name of the game. With their new production, Journey of the Wind, they use the malleability of improv storytelling to explore themes of humanity, loss, and childhood– all with the whimsy and finesse of your favorite animated films.

Atop the simple, rounded platforms of the stage, this collaboration, running from May 3-18 at Theatre Off Jackson, between Jet City Improv Presents and Chinatown’s Pork Filled Productions shines.

On the cold rainy evening of April 20, the Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra performed a selection of pieces from Blues and the Abstract Truth, the 1961 landmark jazz album by composer and saxophonist Oliver Nelson. SRJO performed the repertoire, along with two pieces composed by artistic director Michael Brockman, with smooth, assertive skill and an infectious love for the music at hand.

That night, Benaroya’s Illsley Ball Nordstrom Recital Hall was distinctly warm, even before the concert started. Its field of red seats sloped softly under the overhead lights. Patrons talked to and greeted each other, some so familiarly it felt like a monthly community potluck. The stage sat close and cozy to the audience, with a piano, drum set, and array of chairs for the musicians gleaming a short distance from the front row seats. As the hall filled, a few orchestra members started coming onstage and taking their seats, quietly laughing with each other and tuning their instruments. One musician spotted friends in the front few rows and chatted with them from the stage. As the lights came down and people settled into their seats, the person introducing the band made sure to shout out volunteers and board members in the audience. Before a single brassy note was played, there was a joyful lack of divide in that hall.

Then, when the performance truly began, that lack of division made SRJO’s concert something special. Nelson’s album cascades (even beyond the song called “Cascades”) in conversational yet calculated melodies, dulcetly energetic. The mood of the concert varied from song to song, but each piece played – including the ones not from Nelson’s album – shared that conversational yet calculated aspect. In “Hoe Down,” my favorite song of the repertoire and one of the first ones SRJO performed, the band blared brightly and assertively like a morning parade, while in “Teenie’s Blues,” they wound their way through deeper, darker sounds like rafts through a river. Every member of the band, from the saxophones to the trumpets to the trombones to the rhythm section, and guest vocalist Jacqueline Tabor, got a chance to shine in a solo, and shine they did. When a musician stood up, or stayed seated in the rhythm section’s case, all eyes in the audience and the band turned to them as they played their solo. Photo by Jim Levitt

And it’s here where you could spend the whole concert watching a single musician. Each band member plays at least one solo, but each person also reacts to the rest of the band’s musicianship. When drummer D'Vonne Lewis takes command of a song, the rest of the band stays active, tapping their feet, watching him play, or nodding their heads as they listen intently to the rhythms. When Tabor joins the band onstage for a vocal piece, she’s a lightning rod of attention. When trumpeters stand up to improvise a section, the saxophonists in the front row smile as the riffs hit their ears. Every single musician is absolutely in it, steadily and seamlessly. Watching them know this music inside and out, enjoying each other’s musicianship, is delightful.

Throughout the show, artistic director Michael Brockman intersperses the music with explanations of the pieces and introductions to soloists, conversing smoothly with the audience. The energy in the room is a call and response, in which the audience gladly participates. People laugh at the right moments, whoop and cheer for soloists, and soak in the anecdotes of Nelson’s return to classic jazz at a point in time when the genre’s future was uncertain. It’s no surprise that there’s no fourth wall in Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra’s Blues and the Abstract Truth. It’s easy to be an attentive audience member when the performers are simply masters of what they do. It’s easy to sit back and enjoy when SRJO reminds you of the truth, abstract or not: it’s pure fun to listen to great musicians performing great music.Photo by Jim Levitt

Despite music’s being a universal aspect of human culture, it evades definition. You would imagine that after hundreds of thousands of years of innovation and evolution, we would have answers to fundamental questions like, what is music? It’s fundemental yet elusive, so should it merely be enjoyed rather than questioned? The icon of New Music, The Kronos Quartet, proves why curiosity will always be relevant in Sam Green's multimedia documentary and concert, A Thousand Thoughts.

The Kronos Quartet is among the most esteemed and forward-thinking in New music. Considering this, documenting their history, motivations, and long artistic journey is no easy task and could never be achieved through conventional means. Sam Green explores the ephemeral nature of music, time, and life, all while presenting the group's rich history on the big screen.

When you read the word “theater,” what do you picture? A raised stage with red curtains and footlights? Dramatic dialogue spoken from behind the fourth wall? Silence from the audience broken only by appropriate laughter and polite applause?

Well, if that sounds boring to you, welcome to Scrambling the Goose! Washington Ensemble Theatre’s newest show, which ran at 12th Avenue Arts from April 26 to May 17, challenges conventional boundaries of theater, not only by showcasing a wide variety of mediums and genres, but also by incorporating the audience as a crucial part of the show.