Seattle Blog Reviews

Returning for its 26th season in Seattle, the Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Nutcracker ushered in the holiday season last weekend to an enthusiastic audience. Created by Kent Stowell and Maurice Sendak (author and illustrator of Where the Wild Things Are) TheNutcracker has been a holiday tradition for Seattle families for many years. And this year, it can be counted on again to be the fun, whimsical, but also powerful experience that has charmed Washington for decades. The crown jewel of the show is the world that Sendak creates with his costumes and sets. Each piece is intricate and detailed—upon close examination, mice line the frescoes of Clara’s house, Where the Wild Things Are-like monsters can be found in the backdrops at the start of Act Two, and his sets vary in style from European to Oriental to the bizarre. It is this intricacy and detail, combined with his vibrant but simple style that makes Nutcracker come alive in a world formed of the same imagination that whisks Clara away. Combined with Tchaikovsky’s timeless score, Stowell’s choreography, and a small army of excited PNB School students, the production takes off. Building off of boundless energy and passion, you cannot help but be drawn into the spirit and cheer of it all. I had the chance to dance for three years in the PNB’s Nutcracker several years back, and the experience defines Nutcracker for me every time I have seen it since. From the first time I saw it, dancing in the Nutcracker was my childhood dream, and I entered the PNB school just to be in Nutcracker. Now, when I return to Nutcracker, I am captivated just as I was when I was four. In the end, Nutcracker continues to be a tradition for just this reason. Not just any show can make you remember how to dream and feel like a kid again, year after year after year. Uniquely heartfelt and touching, words do not describe what it is like to experience it, and cannot even come close to the joy of coming back again. Nutcracker creates a world that for a few hours you will be blessed to fall into; and when the curtain closes, you will be just as sad to go as Clara. Pacific Northwest Ballet'sThe Nutcracker plays at McCaw Hall now through December 30th. Please note that this production is NOT Teen Tix eligible.

Thursday night, the Pacific Northwest Ballet unveiled Director’s Choice, a collection of four smaller ballets and works. PNB Artistic Director Peter Boal has striven recently to encourage modern and new ballets, and he remains true to this goal in Director’s Choice. All of the four works presented premiered after 1990—one, The Seasons, enjoys its world premiere here. Each ballet is its own creation, and are powerful statements in their own right. Presented together, they reveal the PNB’s commitment to presenting a variety of fascinating new works. Pacific Northwest Ballet company dancers in Jiri Kylian’s Petite Mort Photo © Angela Sterling The first, Petite Mort, is a visually striking dance that quickly grabs your attention. When the curtain opens, six men with swords raised slowly back towards the front of the stage; figures swirl in and out of the darkness at the back of the stage. Dreamlike and surreal, the dancers occasionally run an enormous sheet across the stage. When it falls, you discover that the scene behind it has changed entirely. It is the dancing, though, that is truly fascinating, shifting from graceful steps and duets to stilted, broken movements. At other times, the female dancers come on stage behind enormous wheeled black gowns. They play behind and then leap out from them—the imagery is starkly entrancing. Remarkable and rich in meaning, it truly has to be seen to be appreciated. James Moore in Marco Goecke’s Mopey Photo © Angela Sterling Mopey, presented next, is sure to be a favorite with Teen Tix patrons. James Moore is spectacular in this one-man ballet, a perfectly done exploration of a teenage mind. Beginning with Moore whipping around the stage in anxious, frenzied steps, his angst is palpable. The dance is inward; Moore dances around the stage like a train of thought, moving between feelings in a smooth flow. Next becoming whimsical and vivacious, Moore marvels in his strength and energy with a crazed enthusiasm, leaping about the stage. Mopey changes again; the music stops and Moore begins a writhing dance filled with anger and violence, descending further into chaos as he goes. Mopey perfectly captures the changeability and volatility of the teenage mind, and is one of the show’s best moments. Peter Boal makes a pitch toward the more traditional in The Seasons—here, tutus and more formal hallmarks of ballet return, and the choreography becomes less experimental. Though not as intellectually rich as the previous two, The Seasons is an interesting revision of an older ballet. The Seasons flows through each and explores its different moods, weaving a narrative of love blossoming from the cold of winter and into the craze of summer. The dance shines through autumn’s revelry, capturing the season’s austerity and frenzy. While The Seasons is a well-done work by itself, young viewers may find that it pales in comparison with the first two. The dancers seemed determined to have some plain fun at the show’s close with West Side Story Suite. Perfectly suited for the grace and power of ballet, the dancers dominate the dance and feeling of West Side Story. While some numbers don’t shine as brightly as others, the show ends on a high note with the dancers on stage, singing “Somewhere” with all the passion and power it deserves. Director’s Choice refuses to be pinned down into any category. An innovative, provocative, and breathtaking show, it brings together the classical and the modern. Worthwhile, fascinating, and imaginative, the imagery and energy of it will remain with you long after you have left the theatre. - Tucker C November 5th, 2009 Director's Choice Pacific Northwest Ballet Through November 15th

Review of Act of God at SIFF Cinema by Tucker Cholvin This coming Friday, lightning will strike at SIFF Cinema. Act of God, a Canadian documentary film directed by Jennifer Baichwal, is a masterfully done introspection into the symbolism of lightning and storms in the human condition. In interviews with people struck by this awesome force of nature, relatives of those killed by it, storm chasers, musicians, and in forays that range to France, Mexico, and beyond, Act of God quickly fills you with a sense of awe at the sheer power of lightning. Baichwal uses sweeping panoramic shots of powerful storms set to the stories of victims to stress and illuminate the raw destructive force of lightning—images of twisted trees and mangled metal drive the point home. But Baichwal’s concern is not so much in the lightning itself, but in its metaphysical implications. Is a lightning strike a random occurrence in a purely mechanical universe? Or is it a fated, predestined strike by an omniscient God? In tearful interviews with victims and survivors, it becomes clear that there is no easy answer, but countless perspectives. Baichwal travels through religion, science, logic, and emotion in search of answers. Some in the film say that evolution has wired humans to look for and remember patterns; that looking for significance in a random lightning strike is only an uncivilized remnant of our former primitive selves. On the other hand, a televangelist who had a near-death experience following a lightning strike disagrees—in a near-death experience, he saw heaven and his soul in what he believes was an intentional act of God to change his ways. In the end, one bereaved mother expresses the common middle ground: “I can’t accept that there is a reason that [my son] died, but I can’t accept that there is no reason.” The pure power of lightning provokes differing reactions in people; when faced with such a force, Act of God shows how they will harness it, fear it, revere it, or deny it. And by the end of the film, you will be questioning your own worldview as well. Act of God marvelously takes something that we accept in life as commonplace, and in dissecting it allows us to question ourselves and the nature of life. An enriching and engaging film, Act of God is well worth the time—guaranteed to expand your mind and bring a new dimension to this winter’s coming storms. - Tucker C. Act of God October 30th - November 5th SIFF Cinema

Review of Annie Proulx at Seattle Arts & Lectures by Tucker Cholvin This Wednesday, Seattle Arts and Lectures hosted Annie Proulx, author of Postcards, The Shipping News, Wyoming Stories, as well as the short story Brokeback Mountain (later adapted into the Oscar-winning film) at Benaroya Hall. Proulx read from her new book, entitled Bird Cloud: A Memoir in Progress, giving a condensed but powerful taste of her style as a writer. Audience members were also given the chance to submit questions afterward for a question and answer session. Annie Proulx | photo by John Harding/Time & Life Pictures--Getty Images

Proulx, in her writing and her life, is deeply tied to Wyoming, her adopted home, and its land. She began with the setting of her house along a great cliff named Bird Cloud, describing the plate tectonics and slow forces that formed it, and that will reshape it again in the future. She progressed to describing the indigenous peoples who settled the area first, and then remembered the land as it was when she came to it. As visceral and raw as the wild land she loves, she delights in setting the scene with the small details. Her style reveals not only her great love of the land but also surrounds one in its untamed world. This wild landscape, created so attentively at the start, becomes the foundation for all other things—a fatal car accident on a state highway, an exchange with an overeager shopkeeper in her old hometown, or a fly-fishing expedition are all set against this vibrant backdrop. No matter the subject, Proulx infuses a physicality into her stories that throws one into the moment and makes her stories come alive. The euphoria of her joy is tangible and real; its swift and merciless destruction bites just as coldly as if it had been us. In their extremities, they mirror the blossoming summers and brutal winters of Proulx's Wyoming, where nothing can truly last. Wielding all the power and force of nature and the earth, her writing becomes a living, breathing creature, strong and potent. This mere taste of her book pulled me in, leaving me hungry for more and in awe of a great writer. -Tucker C. October 7, 2009 Annie Proulx was a one-night event Next up in Seattle Arts & Lectures Literary Series: Lydia Davis Wednesday, November 4th @ 7:30 Benaroya Hall more info

Review of Remember Being Born? at Taproot Theatre by Tucker Cholvin Taproot Theatre, it seems, is a busy place these days. Currently in the middle of their production of Enchanted April, Taproot is also offering audiences a hidden late-night gem. Remember Being Born?, a one-man show performed by Solomon Davis, is a quirky and deeply personal story that refuses to be pinned down into just one category. Neither here nor there in its unique combination of stand-up routine, memoir, and coming-of-age story, Remember Being Born? makes full use of its adaptability to delve deep into Davis’ childhood and persona. Solomon Davis in Remember Being Born? at Taproot Theatre Photo by Liz Ragland On stage, Davis begins as the funnyman—Steve Martin comparisons are inevitable, as his effusive, physical energy fills the house as well as when he whips out his harmonica for a doleful few notes at the end of a monologue. Other parts of his act seem improvised and unexpected, only adding to the fervor. His charm as a storyteller and his affection for screwball comedy succeed in winning audiences over immediately, laughing at one self-effacing story after another. The mood shifts a little as Davis recalls his father dating, but the screwball comedy is never far off. With each new story, we see Davis a little bit older—one moment being told by his father to use his middle name, Mark, rather than Solomon, and the next moment auditioning for the high school play. Awkward by their subject matter, his stories are also powerfully endearing, and in Taproot’s small theatre the stand-up comedy of the beginning evolves into a story more deeply and intimately personal. Recounting being raised by his father after his mother’s death in a car crash, Davis yet again transforms the show, this time into a search for identity and where he comes from. Davis dwells most poignantly on the latter, seeking the mother he never knew out through memories, and hoping that she is the answer to who he is maturing into. At its end, Remember Being Born?’s wit and humor does not degrade its intimacy and meaning, and its occasional seriousness does not obstruct the humor. Instead, Davis leaves his audience both with a smile on their face and a profound sense of who he is as a human being. Such a balance is hard-struck, and it is to Davis’ great credit that he can find it. Done well, theatre is the opportunity to delve deeper into the world of others than we can in daily life. In his incisive and magnificent performance, Davis’ Remember Being Born? succeeds marvelously. - Tucker C October 2nd, 2009 Remember Being Born? Every Friday night at 10:15 through October 23rd Taproot Theatre