It’s an election season and while many Seattleites are choosing to express themselves by voting, we think Halloween costumes are far more effective at shaping society. Should you opt to dress in one of these seven highly topical (and highly ridiculous) costume suggestions, we are not liable for any embarrassment, pointing or injuries that may occur at your Halloween party.
It's become kind of a healing ritual. With the arrival of fall, my wife and I head out to say hello to a national park. Last year, it was Glacier in northern Montana; before that, Wind Cave in the Black Hills of South Dakota. This year, we went closer to home to Olympic on the peninsula.
Seattle sculptor and installation artist Todd Jannausch (toddjannausch.com) has a new solo show, Callus, which runs 11/15–12/21 at Pioneer Square gallery Method (methodgallery.com). He’ll also give a gallery talk (11/21 at 6 p.m.). COFFEE SHOP: All City Coffee in Georgetown, a Tuesday morning in JulyTODD’S ORDER: 12-ounce wet cappuccino
Longtime Seattleites remember it as a day of infamy: July 3, 2000, when the iconic neon R atop the Rainier Brewery was wrenched from its nearly-50-year perch and replaced with—egads—a neon green T, marking the building as the new home of Tully’s Coffee. But drivers who’ve spent the past 13 years cursing the glowing green initial hovering over I-5 can finally stop gnashing their teeth: the 12-foot-tall red R returns on October 24. It’s actually a facsimile—the original R remains in the atrium at the Museum of History & Industry—but even a simulacrum is satisfying.
Score! Seattle is the only U.S. venue to host Peru: Kingdoms of the Sun and the Moon, a rare and astonishing collection of sculpture, metalwork, paintings and textiles spanning a whopping 3,000 years and several cultures. Many of these masterpieces have never before left Peru, so be sure to show them a warm Seattle welcome. 10/17–1/5/14. seattleartmuseum.org
Must Be AfraidGet in the Spooky Spirit with Carrie: The Musical(Through 10/26, times vary) — Check out the Broadway take on Stephen King’s unsettling tale, as interpreted by Seattle’s own Balagan Theatre. Prepare for pig’s blood on prom night!
Linda*, a 35-year-old attorney in Seattle, is the first to admit that going out for breakfast with her is rather tortured. She calls herself über-controlling, and it starts with not eating anything with fat in it. No butter on her toast (and only one piece of toast, thank you), no cream in her coffee, no yolks in her eggs. No syrup, no pancakes, no red meat. Oatmeal is OK. “You make so many modifications to your meal, and the waiter gets upset with you, and your friends are looking at you like you are crazy,” she says. Recently, she fled the line outside a beer-and-brats place in Leavenworth where she was going to have a meal with friends. “I knew that I was going to be put in a position where I was going to get a beer, because everyone was getting beer, and I was not going to drink it,” she says. The brat was a nonstarter as well. “I thought, ‘I like sauerkraut a lot and I could just fill a bun with sauerkraut,’ but then people would look at me funny because I’m doing that, so I just felt like exiting the whole situation.” Afterward, it took many talks with her friends to smooth things over. Linda might sound like a character straight out of Portlandia, but here in Seattle, “you are what you eat” is serious business. For the majority of us, it’s all just a good-faith effort to eat healthily. But for some, that interest crosses over into disordered behavior, known as orthorexia nervosa.People with orthorexia are striving for the most healthful and pure way to eat, but when it is taken to the extreme, ironically, they can end up malnourished and underweight. Perhaps less dangerous but nonetheless disturbing, orthorexia wreaks havoc on people’s social relationships and can have an impact on their ability to work or go to school. “It’s totally consuming at times,” Linda says. “It’s all you think about and it ruins your ability to think about anything else. It can be very debilitating.”Unlike with other eating disorders, people with orthorexia focus on the quality of the food they are eating, rather than the quantity. “It can often start as a simple diet and then it can go to only eating organic food, then to organic, non-processed food, and then it becomes more pure and simplistic,” says Kimberley Quinlan, a psychotherapist at the OCD Center of Los Angeles. “So it develops in a stepping-stone way…[becoming] more and more restrictive, right to the point that sometimes it comes down to two or three food items only, because of the anxiety or the concern of what other foods are doing to them internally.”A physician named Steven Bratman coined the term orthorexia nervosa in an article he wrote for Yoga Journal in 1997. Bratman, also a practitioner of alternative medicine, noticed some of his patients were maintaining very rigid rules about what they would eat. He described people who spent inordinate amounts of time planning for, purchasing and eating food. Their inner lives were consumed with efforts to resist temptations, self-punishment for lapses, self-praise for compliance and a sense of superiority over others whose dietary habits were less pure. The term orthorexia broke into the mainstream earlier this year when Fox News anchor Mika Brzezinski said she suffered from it.Raven Bonnar-Pizzorno, director of nutrition services at The Moore Center, an eating disorder treatment facility in Bellevue that offers psychological and nutritional counseling, says that our Northwest culture idealizes healthy eating. “So people who are eating healthy are maybe smarter or more affluent, and we take this leap from just food to how it defines us as a person,” she says. “I think that’s where we start getting into trouble.”
Must Go GlamBellevueGet Ready for Serious Style at DIFFA Glam: Tablescapes(10/10, 6 to 9 p.m.) — Expect nothing but tip-top tabletop design at GLAM: Tablescapes, a style-filled soiree hosted by the Seattle chapter of Design Industries Foundation Fighting AIDS (DIFFA).
A hyper-nerdy take on cooking, molecular gastronomy considers food at the chemical level—how exactly does heat make an egg physically transform? Seattle entrepreneur Nathan Myhrvold helped popularize this science with his book Modernist Cuisine (2011), which includes stunning photos of food in the moment of being cooked, taken at his Bellevue kitchen laboratory. Using unusual techniques, including sawing pots and pans in half, Myhrvold’s team shows us food as we’ve never seen it before.
Portland photographer Holly Andres creates scenes that are eerily familiar yet just out of reach. With elaborate sets, vintage props, costumes and staging reminiscent of Nancy Drew book covers, her cinematic tableaux resemble stills from a long-forgotten movie that still haunts your subconscious. Her new show, The Homecoming, reveals Andres’ early training as a painter, as well as her penchant for portraying young girls in pursuit of forbidden knowledge—and the resultant loss of innocence.
Thanks to a $10 million donation from Jeff and MacKenzie Bezos, the new (and extremely improved!) Museum of History & Industry (MOHAI) is opening a new section devoted to Seattle’s rich history of ingenuity. Spotlighting a huge range of local inventions and patents (from the Sonicare toothbrush to the Space Needle’s rotating restaurant), the Bezos Center for Innovation hopes to inspire ideas in future generations of Seattle entrepreneurs. Opens 10/12. mohai.org
Seattle Women’s Chorus: Hallows in the Cathedral A family-friendly mixed bill of classics (“Monster Mash”) and semantic stretches (“Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered”) performed in an atmospheric church. Fear factor: Much of the lineup is frivolous fun, but Bach’s beckoning “Come, Soothing Death” is genuinely eerie. 10/18–10/26. Times and prices vary. St. Mark’s Cathedral, 1245 10th Ave. E, 206.388.1400; flyinghouse.org
“It’s a little rough and tumble,” says artist Gala Bent of the light-filled Ballard abode where she lives with husband and fellow artist Zack Bent and their three boys (Caspar, 4, Solomon, 6, and Ezra, 8). Since moving here in 2006 from Indiana (so Zack could attend the M.F.A. program at the University of Washington), the couple has rented the middle floor of this 1920s farmhouse turned triplex.
"Do you want any soda with that?” Kris Minta, the owner of Spine and Crown used bookstore on Capitol Hill, asks as he pours three fingers of bourbon into a paper cup. It is a hot June night, and Minta is throwing a going-out-of-business party in the snug Pine Street space he shares with the éminence grise of rare and out-of-print record stores, Wall of Sound. The room is crowded and buzzes with an indie vibe that I thought had been destroyed by suicide, heroin addiction and way too much money. There are about 23 bedraggled beards in the room and tattoos without number; most everyone holds a paper cup or can of Rainier beer. A street magician—emphasis on street—pulls a piece of rope from behind the ear of an uncertain, bespectacled little girl. Sahir, an 18-year-old Spine and Crown regular, asks me what I think about T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets. I look at him as though he is from one of the Galilean moons of Jupiter—and he is—a wunderkind dressed in a Vietnam-era army jacket and on his way to Swarthmore in the fall. The street magician drops an F-bomb, his 14th of the night, as he circulates his donation cup. A musician fiddles with his amp, and an artist lays a large cardboard cutout of an insect in the center of the room for the next performance. Half the crowd spills out onto Pine Street for fresh air. Sahir complains that his fellow students at The Northwest School are boring because they only read the writers you would expect them to read, like Michael Chabon. The bourbon burns in my chest, and I think, goddamn it, I’m going to miss this place.But all things must pass, as George Harrison mournfully observed—and this is especially true for Seattle’s used bookstores, which are shutting down at a steady clip, with more than a few big hits in the past year. And with their demise, we lose more than a place to pick up a $2 copy of The Hunger Games. Seattle has long been an excellent place for bookstores, both new and used. Consistently voted among the most literate cities in the U.S., it is the home of a vibrant literary culture and has a storied history of independent bookstores. From Seattle Arts & Lectures to the Richard Hugo House, our city has been a place where both writers and readers thrive, and even prosper. Used bookstores, once as common as Dale Chihuly chandeliers, have played an integral part in our ecosystem of the written word and the city’s culture. Part symposium, part nerd refuge, the used bookstore was and is a place to meet other readers, discover books you never knew you wanted to read and—strange as it may sound—experience the sometimes tragic lives of a book’s past. Buying used books is like buying vintage anything—whether it is scrounging for emerald green Manolo Blahnik pumps at Sell Your Sole or stumbling upon an Eames lounge chair in its original black leather at Area 51—the quest is as important as the purchase. “Looking for books was all about the thrill of the hunt, but that’s gone,” says John Erdmann, a former Seattle used book scout and now a faculty librarian at the College of Marin in northern California. “Now you can find anything you want instantly on online book sites, such as AbeBooks or Alibris. If you’ve been searching for a first edition of Joseph Campbell’s Hero with a Thousand Faces with a dust jacket in excellent condition, boom, you touch your smartphone, and—if you’re willing to pay [around $37]—the book is on your doorstep the next day.” (Above: Eleanor, a comfortable tenant at Twice Sold Tales on Capitol Hill)In the last year and a half, the steady disappearance of used bookstores accelerated with at least eight prominent closures—the Book Kennel, Renaissance Books, Inner Chapters, the Capitol Hill Half Price Books, Bookworm Exchange, Once Sold Tales, Balderdash Books and now, thanks to the purchase of the Melrose Building, Minta’s Spine and Crown—with no stores taking their places. “It has been a slaughter,” says Jamie Lutton, owner of Twice Sold Tales, a 26-year-old bookstore now located on the corner of Harvard Avenue East and Denny Way. Lutton’s shop, a fixture on Capitol Hill since 1987, has seen the rise and fall of many Seattle bookstores. The culprits behind the recent closures are many: theft, rents, the decline in reading, the rise of e-books and the buying and selling of used books online, which leads, of course, to that favorite nemesis of the used bookseller, Amazon. “People treat used bookstores as exhibit halls for online book-buying,” Lutton says. “[They] come in with their smartphones and check prices online.” No matter what one thinks of Amazon, it has been wildly effective at wiping out the competition—thanks to its demographic reach and massive used book inventory (via legions of private sellers). With Borders having declared bankruptcy and Barnes & Noble surviving by selling practically everything but books, Amazon is poised for total market domination. And that’s not including the used books of the future, i.e., e-book downloads. Between 2011 and 2012, e-books surpassed printed books in sales (with total mass-market paperback sales falling by 20.5 percent), and Amazon now squats on around three-quarters of the e-book market. All of which has a profound effect on the used books industry. “You are witnessing the death of probably 80 percent of all bookstores in this country,” says Twice Sold Tales’ Lutton.