Seattle Blog Reviews

In Chinese mythology, the dragon and the phoenix are animals that symbolize balance. They are opposite celestial beings bound together, representing power and grace, fierceness and beauty, completing what the other cannot fulfill. The book Sunlight Playing over a Mountain by Selena Li Bi gives these symbols a deeply personal meaning, shaping the fragile, shifting world of Jasmine Cheng, our protagonist, and her mother, where they must chase a sense of belonging and stability across ever-changing terrains. 

The book first introduces us to Jasmine Cheng, a 15-year-old Filipino-Chinese girl growing up in a small town called Briarplace in the Midwest. Her whole life is steeped in a myth. Her mother, Suchou, tells her that the two of them are the dragon and the phoenix, celestial beings who descend from the moon, and that her father is Pangu, the creator of the universe. Her mother’s grandiose myths are her escape from the mourning pressures of Jasmine’s reality- an absent father, an irresponsible and unreliable mother, and the ever-looming presence of being taken away from her mother through Child Protective Services, something she refers to as the “Keeper.” As her mother drifts in and out of her opium-dream world, cycling through boyfriends and herbal remedies, Jasmine is left to fend for herself, caught between devotion and disillusionment.

From a dark room with a green door at the beginning, to "the game is afoot" said in the middle of the show, to the applause of a satisfied audience at the curtain call - Miss Holmes, written by Christopher M. Walsh and directed by Angela M. Bayler of Centerstage Theater, is a clever spin on a classic. Female versions of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson create a feminist mystery with themes of death and betrayal while defying stereotypes of the typical Victorian Era woman by changing what would be proper Victorian Women's attire to pants, hats, and work boots. This was also done through how the women in the show talked and how sure of themselves they were. This show, boosted by excellent acting performances, delivers laughs and lots of whodunnit in a cozy, Federal Way theater. This was my first performance in Federal Way, and I was surprised to find this charming, innovative theater at the end of a long, woodsy road in a beautiful park. While I was eating a cookie from their refreshment table I saw a display portraying the challenges of Victorian womanhood and I appreciated being able to learn a little bit about this period before watching the show because it helped me understand the struggles that the female characters in the show faced. As the lights dimmed, the director stepped on the stage and introduced the show to the audience.  Although Miss Holmes and the 2020 film Enola Holmes are not the same, these female detectives have a few things in common: they both carry the Holmes name and have an overprotective brother named Mycroft. And despite being underestimated, these women use their knowledge and social status to blend into society and rebel against the expectations of the time.  The cast of Miss Holmes. Photo by Michelle Smith-Lewis.

The sets in the show feature the hospital where Dr. Watson works, Miss Holmes’s home, and Scotland Yard, and contain sophisticated portraits and warm furniture against a mysterious London background. The period costumes were chosen thoughtfully and were effective for every character. I especially loved Watson’s tweed buttoned-up dress and her medical bag. The men's button-up suits were fitting and I loved Mycroft's cane but it was used more like a prop than a cane itself. This made me wonder why they used the prop if he was only supposed to hold it and not use it for walking. I only wished for some more wardrobe changes for the two main roles which would have made the show more realistic and brought more personality through the characters.

It's too bad the word ‘opera’ is such a turn-off for young people. If I could have just convinced teens to watch the recent version of The Magic Flute playing at the Seattle Opera, their entire perspective on the art form would have changed, guaranteed. 

As I made my way through the opera house in search of my seat, I noticed that the audience was full of older adults. I was surprised by this, considering how every other performance that I’ve been to at McGraw Hall was seen by people of all ages. I suspect that this all has to do with the word ‘opera.’ The lights shut off, a spotlight hit the conductor, and the show began. For the next two hours, I was transported into a fairytale, but one infinitely more epic than your run-of-the-mill children's story.  

This review contains spoilers for the play Covenant.

From start to finish, ArtsWest’s Covenant was never what I expected it to be. It begins as a fairly standard family drama in 1930’s Georgia: sheltered, innocent Avery (Simone Alene) wants to leave town with charismatic yet mysterious guitarist Johnny (Donovan Mahannah), but Mama (Felicia Loud) and her pious Black-church values won’t approve. The show foreshadows its ominous tone from the start, especially through the narration of neighbor Ruthie (Kaila Towers), but that eeriness is initially masked by punchy humor and charming small-town colloquialisms.

Faux Flora is an all-encompassing, multisensory exhibit at the National Nordic Museum. Fischersund, the creator, is an Icelandic artist collective that creates using sound, scent, light, and visual art. Faux Flora incorporates these elements to tell the story of human life through made-up plants. The viewer is transported to a place where bouquets grow from cereal boxes and glass tears clink together as they hang from the downturned face of a flower. The exhibition covers four stages of life: birth, childhood, adolescence, and death. These stages are represented through the plant life cycle. It is a story that is foreign in its presentation yet all too familiar. There are many words I could use to describe Faux Flora, yet none quite feel adequate. The exhibit felt like an essay, with masterful prose and a vise grip on tonal shifts. 

The exhibit starts eerie and dark. Neutral-toned goo drips from the petals of an alien-like plant species as it sways with a breeze you can almost feel. Birth, represented by germination, is the beginning of the cycle, shown by only two animated flowers. The flowers are mostly shades of light pink and beige. As the smallest section, I found this stage the least memorable part of the exhibition. However, the darkness and overall biological ‘goopiness’ of the section captured the silence and essence of that stage of life in a way that felt a little uncomfortable. Image courtesy of Fischersund.

My stomach fluttered with anticipation as I entered McCaw Hall. Attending Pacific Northwest Ballet performances has been a special tradition for my family since I was six years old. Now, I was going to see the world premiere of one of the most ambitious productions PNB has ever undertaken: their reinterpretation of The Sleeping Beauty. Would it meet my expectations? I’m happy to say that PNB delivered all the spellbinding glamor and grace I hoped for, along with some unexpected twists.

In the classic fairytale, Princess Aurora, cursed at birth by the spited fairy Carabosse, pricks her finger on a spindle during her 20th birthday and falls into a 100-year sleep. The only one who can wake her up is the dashing Prince Desiree with a true love’s kiss. In addition to preserving the original storyline of The Sleeping Beauty, PNB incorporated elements derived from the original 1890 production: the work of Russian choreographer Marius Petipa and Tchaikovsky’s swelling score. However, artistic director Peter Boal worked to contemporize the ballet by giving Princess Aurora self-agency, personalizing its setting to the Pacific Northwest, and incorporating Northwest Indigenous Coastal designs into the production.

From the first chorus of the opening song “Omigod You Guys!” Village Theatre’s presentation of Legally Blonde The Musical is like being blasted with a pink confetti cannon of positivity. This musical has everything: catchy songs, lovable characters, an upbeat story, and even two adorable real dogs. Fans were decked out, some in all pink, with glowing smiles to see the classic movie brought to life onstage. This musical draws on the enduring appeal of protagonist Elle Woods’ journey to get taken seriously, and it adds a whole new layer of humor and pink pizzazz. Although the plotline seems centered around a typical chick flick romance, the impact of Village Theatre’s production comes from the unique ways it foregrounds subtler themes: sisterhood, hopes and dreams, the illusion of perfection, and keeping a positive outlook through life’s trials. 

Let’s start with the venue! The Everett Performing Arts Center was embellished with pink Legally Blonde paraphernalia. The staff was cheerful and the patrons, many of whom clearly love this story, were excitedly taking selfies in the photo booth. The theater was just big enough to have an astounding set, lighting, and orchestra pit while still maintaining a feeling of community and mutual excitement. Not that they would have had any problem with that anyway; this musical was so upbeat, funny, and heartwarming that it kept me engaged every second. 

Ask yourself: “Where is Here?” 

The answer might seem quite obvious, whether it's your bed, school, or your living room couch. We all have places we deem familiar, where we have put down our “roots.” For Azam, our protagonist, the answer isn’t so clear. 

I first went to the Grand Illusion Cinema two years ago to see a 1937 screwball comedy called The Awful Truth. I was just getting into film, and Grand Illusion was simply perfect: a volunteer-run arthouse theater that harbored a strong community while displaying unique films year-round. Since then, I have attended their events frequently, seeing everything from Fugazi documentaries to their annual showing of It’s a Wonderful Life (1946). The Grand Illusion is moving at the end of January, but I was lucky enough to catch the last of their annual Saturday Secret Matinees at the organization’s current location.

The Saturday Secret Matinees are a long-running program presented by the Sprocket Society, a film appreciation group that curates and screens various eccentric programs, all on 16mm film, a historically popular and accessible form of analog film. The Sprocket Society frequently makes historical callbacks in their programs. For instance, in the first half of the 20th century, the moviegoing experience was inseparable from serial films. These serials were continuous narratives split into short chapters, played at a theater weekly until completion. A typical Saturday matinee at the time would include a serial episode, often shown among other short items, along with a feature-length film. The Sprocket Society recreates this experience yearly, showing an entire serial on film over a few months, along with mystery classic movies to accompany them. I was fortunate enough to speak with Spencer Sundell, the lead projectionist at Grand Illusion, founder of the Sprocket Society, and creator of the Saturday Secret Matinees.

In a humble exhibit spanning only three rooms, the Wing Luke Museum brought to light the storied work of 20th century Japanese-American Seattle artists Kamekichi Tokita, Kenjiro Nomura, and Tukuichi Fujii. Although highly regarded in their time, their work has since fallen into relative obscurity. Their burgeoning careers were cut short and their lives shattered by the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII, from which only Nomura recovered and rebuilt his artistic life. Although their work has reemerged in recent years, their stories remain ones of tragedy that will forever be incomplete. One cannot help but feel frustration at the injustice they faced, and the toll it took on their art. But, along with this lost potential, there is undoubtable beauty and historical significance that we must be grateful for. In a better world, each artist would have soared to greater heights, but in this one all we can do is appreciate what we are left with. 

After coming to the US during a major period of Japanese immigration, these three painters settled in Nihonmachi –or Japantown– during the peak of its artistic ethos. In this cultural microcosm, over 900 businesses operated, five Japanese newspapers were in print, and a vast world of theater, poetry, dance, and music flourished. Nomura and Tokita opened a sign-painting shop on the steep hillside of 6th Avenue, which grew from a small business to a studio and meeting place for local artists. Fujii also started a small business nearby, becoming a fish merchant with his family. The men would often meet one another on weekend sketching trips outside of Nihonmachi.

Eyes are always present in Hayv Kahraman’s work. The viewer is confronted as the walls of the Frye Art Gallery stare back at them: contorted figures with empty scleras and plants sprouting eyes as if they were fruits all gaze attentively at attendants of Kahraman’s exhibit Look Me in the Eyes. Kahraman’s work is heavily autobiographical, drawing from her experiences as an Iraqi refugee in Sweden and incorporating the isolation, dehumanization, and perpetual surveillance she endured as an immigrant. Look Me in the Eyes makes the viewer feel as Kahraman felt; watched, scrutinized, and standing opposite a wall of unfeeling onlookers. While one might assume this makes for an uncomfortable gallery experience, Kahraman’s undeniable artistry, sincere emotional honesty, and control over her themes formed an enrapturing exhibit.

Look Me in the Eyes sprawls across three rooms of the Frye’s gallery, walls lined with Kahraman’s portraits of distorted, blank-eyed women. These figures huddle together and grasp for branches pullulating with eyes and mouths, an attempt to reassemble themselves by claiming the irises and bright lips they lack. Her paintings are countered by large sculptures utilizing industrial materials like brick and metal beams. 

Death has never been more lighthearted or absurd than in Noël Coward’s comedy Blithe Spirit. Directed by Allison Narver, Seattle Rep’s production stays true to the “spirit” of the classic play, transforming darkness into light through humor. Despite being written in 1941, Blithe Spirit possesses a timeless appeal, transporting modern audiences into an old-fashioned, mystical, and outrageous world where their worries can be temporarily forgotten.

Blithe Spirit revolves around a supernatural love triangle. Novelist Charles Condomine (Arlando Smith) and his wife Ruth (Gin Hammond) invite the medium Madame Arcati (Anne Allgood) and their friends Dr. and Mrs. Bradman (Nate Tenenbaum and Sara Waisanen) to dinner. Seeking inspiration for his newest novel, Charles asks Madame Arcati to perform a séance. However, he gets more than he bargained for when Madame Arcati accidentally manifests the ghost of his late wife Elvira (Kirsten Potter). Charles must then contend with the complicated reality of having both Ruth and Elvira in the house. Meanwhile, Elvira, who is visible only to Charles, has her own plans for making him hers once more…Lead photo: Gin Hammond, Kirsten Potter, and Arlando Smith in Blithe Spirit (2024). Photo by Nate Watters.

A magnificent mess of great multitudes, The Dina Martina Christmas Show at ACT Theatre is a performance that perfectly encompasses the holiday season. Full of personality and unapologetic flair, ecstatic raconteur Dina Martina, accompanied by her talented pianist Chris Jeffries, puts on a colorful show full of impeccable humor that will knock your socks off. Her boisterous first segment is filled to the brim with personalized Christmas caroling and hilarious anecdotes, and her second echoes her appreciation for her local audience by honoring the history of Seattle and looking back on the beginnings of her career. From the very moment she bursts onto the stage, Dina Martina is sure to keep audiences captivated with her distinct and unforgettable charm for a night of holiday shenanigans.

Throughout the show, Dina Martina establishes her classic, sporadic persona that is especially relatable when facing the pandemonium of the Christmas agenda. Her loud songs paired with flashy costumes transformed her image, characterizing her as the belle of the ball and immediately grabbing the attention of the audience. The manner in which she hastily fiddles with ornaments, jingle bells, and other classic Christmas decorations while dancing freely on the stage enhances her frenzied energy that zaps the audiences with giddiness and joy as if they were on the dance floor themselves. While satisfying the spontaneity and volume of her character, I enjoyed how Dina Martina presented a myriad of layered plotlines without pressuring the audience to follow a mentally exhaustive story. Each of the components that compile the obscure yet engrossing details of her stories are not necessarily connected like the chapters of a book; rather, they sprout like individual nuggets of information that the audience can digest at an upbeat yet comfortable pace. Especially after a long week of 9 to 5 work days, Dina Martina’s lighthearted and humorous stories are refreshing and easy to listen to. In her scattered recollections of holiday seasons past, she also provokes a reemergence of contagious holiday cheer. With comedy, she energizes her listeners like a bolt of lightning and powers the triumphant sound of hearty laughs that ring constant throughout the night. The evening I attended, the December 13 show, was particularly powerful; I’ve attended many Dina Martina performances before but cannot recall the last instance I witnessed and interacted with such a passionate and united crowd. The liveliness of the show, however, must also be accredited to the set and lighting design. I felt like a welcomed guest when faced with the coziness of an intricately crafted living room filled with garlands, wreaths, and illuminated family photos. The Christmas tree was a bold presence in the room, and it protected the perfectly-placed presents that symbolized the gifts of entertainment, memories, and love that would reveal themselves as the night progressed. Each and every one of these elements electrified the venue with elevated spirits and mirrored the vibrancy of Dina Martina’s performance. The lighting design extended the divine visual ambience and aesthetics of the set; fast-moving golden spotlights followed Martina as she performed her musical pieces, projected sprinkling snowflakes framed her as she recalled memories from her winters, and a periwinkle spotlight set the sentimental tone for the second act. These technical elements matched the vitality of Dina Martina’s character without overwhelming her stage presence, perfecting a balance that is often difficult to obtain with dynamic stand-up performances.Dina Martina in The Dina Martina Christmas Show. Photo by Giao Nguyen.

Having grown up Catholic, the Nativity story always surrounded me. Whether it be through slowly reading the Gospel verses in our advent calendar, picture books with sheep smiling joyfully at a cartoon baby Jesus, or simply seeing the Nativity decorations around my house, the story became a routine part of my holiday season. Over time, it slowly lost its magic for me. It simply seemed ordinary; that is, until I saw Intiman Theatre’s reimagined production of  Black Nativity. This song-play by Langston Hughes combines touching poetry, enthralling dance, and powerful gospel renditions of familiar Christmas carols to bring the Christmas story to life and imbue each audience member with true Christmas spirit.  The cast of Black Nativity. Photo by Joe Moore.

When my parents and I first got to Broadway Performance Hall, located in the Fine Arts Building of Seattle Central College, I was meant by a wave of warmth. “Funky Little Drummer Boy” by Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings played as the ticket sales-woman wished my family and I happy holidays and pointed us towards the cozy waiting room. From there, we entered the intimate theater, where even from the back row, I could clearly see the intricate panels lining the back of the stage. The panels gave the illusion of glowing frames of stained glass, a vibrant mosaic coming together to create a nativity scene. Soon, the house lights began to dim. While I was prepared for beautiful singing and poetry, what first struck me was the dancing included throughout the show. At the start of the show, a group of dancers appeared on stage in a theater of near silence. As they began a series of mesmerizing movements, sounds of their steps echoed into the audience, creating an intimate and energized atmosphere. Similarly, the towering shadows of the dancers were cast onto the walls by the soft lighting, surrounding the audience in the movement and drawing everyone closer. 

Like snow adorning balconies, or the familiar smell of cinnamon cookies wafting through your house, the Christmas spirit is afoot wherever you may be. This little spirit has also waltzed into Benaroya Hall, where the Seattle Symphony plays alongside a showing of the classic Christmas film Home Alone. 

My night began in the plush seating, where I gazed up at the stage, glowing in shades of green and red. People walked in with reindeer headbands, Santa hats,  and sweaters christened with quotes and characters from beloved movies. As the symphony took their seats and the conductor, Sunny Xia, took the stage, a slight hush fell over the room, with excited murmurs filling the gaps in the silence. “This is not like your usual symphony,” we were warned, a statement that existed throughout the show. Xia explained that we were free to cheer, and unlike other movie screenings, we were more than welcome to stay through the end credits since the symphony shone “all the way through.”

The 5th Avenue Theatre’s production of the childhood classic Mary Poppins is “Practically Perfect” in every way. Running from November 21 to December 25, The 5th Avenue Theatre in the heart of Seattle has put forth their take on the beloved musical adaptation of the P. Travers books and 1964 film. Showcasing detailed set pieces and special effects, dramatic lighting and costumes, and fantastic actors, the work is able to fully immerse the audience into the world of magic while simultaneously pushing those watching to reflect on both personal and political issues. 

Set in England in 1910, Mary Poppins depicts the story of the Banks family, consisting of parents George and Winifred Banks, and their two young children, Jane and Michael. Jane and Michael consistently drive off any nanny that comes to their household, leaving their parents at a loss for what to do with them. In a twist of luck, or perhaps fate, the magical Mary Poppins winds up at the Banks household, offering to take on the role of their nanny. Will her whimsical ways be enough to bring this family back together?Mallory Cooney King and Danny Gardner in Disney and Cameron Mackintosh’s Mary Poppins. Photo Credit: Mark Kitaoka. Courtesy of The 5th Avenue Theatre.

Before November 23rd, I had never been to a professional improv show. So when I walked into the Market Theater on Post Alley, (tucked in across from the iconic Pike Place Market Gum Wall) for an Agatha-Christie-inspired murder mystery improv show, I was not sure what to expect. My inner introvert was telling me to sit in the middle, where I wouldn’t be a target of unexpected calls for audience participation. However, as soon as I arrived, I instantly felt a sense of community in the theater. I had a feeling that Unexpected Productions’ performance of Murder in the Market: An Improvised Agatha Christie was going to be worth my time.  And it was. Murder in the Market is a fun, suspenseful show that incorporates Christie's traditional style with the actors’ improvised humor and wit to create a delightfully murderous show that appeals to fans and nonfans alike. 

As a fan myself, I was excited to see how the Queen of Crime’s style would be adapted into an improv show. Agatha Christie, a British mystery novelist and author of many famous who-dun-its including Murder on the Orient Express, And Then There Were None, and Death on the Nile, is beloved for her unique style, brilliant plotlines, iconic characters, and instantly recognizable story elements, which the team at Unexpected Production recreated in new ways each show. Photo by Bill Grinnell, courtesy of Unexpected Productions.

To celebrate the 125th anniversary of Duke Ellington's life, the Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra took on one of his most storied records: Far East Suite, a sprawling concept album born from Ellington's grueling tour of the Middle East. Ellington described the 11-week, state-sponsored journey that inspired this record as “one of the most unusual and adventurous trips [his orchestra] had ever undertaken”. It was high praise, considering his orchestra had been touring relentlessly on and off for three decades. So, after thirteen vaccinations, he, alongside longtime compositional partner Billy Strayhorn and their orchestra, embarked on a musical odyssey that would take them through 22 cities in ten countries. They faced shortages in food, frantic traveling, intestinal flu, and even an attempted coup. Still, through this pain and hardship, they brought home a timeless musical artifact born from cultural collision: the Far East Suite.  

Borrowing from foreign cultures has always been a trope in music, but Far East Suite uses this musical mimicry in a different sense. It doesn’t only borrow or emulate foreign conventions; it places you in Ellington's shoes as he went through that 11-week tour. Far East Suite is a collection of vignettes that vividly guide the listener through a myriad of exotic new places, half-remembered and made mystical by the culture shock Ellington himself experienced.  

The Pomegranate Tree, created and directed by Suz Pontillo and Ayla Wren Wallace, is nothing short of a fun time. The experience is part play, part party, and part choose-your-own-adventure game. The best part is that you can choose exactly what you want it to be at any given time. 

The experience invites you, mortals, to be a guest at the wedding of Hades and Persephone along with gods and heroes of Greek myth. Audience members were given a coin upon entering the waiting area. For those unfamiliar with Greek mythology, in ancient Greece, people were buried with coins under their tongues to serve as payment for their passage to the afterlife. Details in the show are consistently accurate to the original myths. We were then led into the main room and introduced to the story by Kharon, the ferryman, and Hecate, the goddess of magic. The area consisted of a small stage at the front with two thrones, a grove with a pomegranate tree, a bar in the back, and several tables towards the sides of the room. The design was relatively simple yet well-crafted and thought out. It served the purposes of the show well.

Why should you go to a piano concert? 

Aren’t those for old people? Wouldn't it be boring, to just sit there and stare? Those are all common misconceptions that I never once questioned, until I experienced Yullianna Aveeda’s captivating performance at Benaroya Hall.