The Weekend Out

Met Picks

Your best entertainment bets June 25 through June 28

By Steve Wiecking June 24, 2009

Andrew Wyeth’s Helga floats at SAM. (Black Velvet, 1972, Private Collection)

New Century Theatre Company debuted last November with a staging of The Adding Machine that was one of the 2008/2009 season’s finest productions. Here’s hoping their Orange Flower Water packs a lot of heat into its short running time.

I think the sky’s the limit for Joshua Roman until he decides to come down for air. He’s programmed the last installment of this year’s TownMusic series on Thursday with all-premiere pieces.

While I think labeling something “gay cabaret” is redundant I bet the Frolic on Friday at Century Ballroom provides a good reason to put your body out on the floor with pride.

Don’t give me smack about The Jonas Brothers. I wish my niece lived closer so she could have one experience at a good old fashioned giddy scream fest. I saw NSync back in their day and the stadium was louder than a monster truck show. Perfectly healthy outlet for the kids.

For the adults? Go hear the trumpet as mastered by Arturo Sandoval. The guy’s amazing—I saw him blow the bejeezus out of the National Anthem at the Orange Bowl this year (it’s the only part I watched) and it nearly brought me to tears.

Tim Burton, while consistently inventive, has in my opinion made just two nearly perfect films: Ed Wood and the sweetly off-kilter fairy tale Edward Scissorhands, which is only marred by Winona Ryder’s inelegance as the cheerleader princess (beautiful girl but a total clod). But Johnny Depp and Dianne Wiest, as his mother protector, are superb—and Saturday’s Fremont screening starts with a preshow wherein a bunch of Rudy’s barbers will cut hair for a style competition.

SAM just opened two exhibits worth a slow, meditative roam: The intimate Andrew Wyeth show—the painted perfection of Wyeth’s muse Helga is astonishing up close; you can see the care in every wisp of hair—and the kicky, kooky Andy-Warhol-and-friends-peed-on-this aesthetics of Target Practice: Painting Under Attack 1949-1979. I went to the press preview for both on Tuesday and will absolutely return for another look.

I’m here, I’m queer, and I won’t rest until everybody’s used to it. So shout hallelujah, come on, get happy at the Seattle Pride Festival with me, won’t you? (I will give you a mini but even-tempered lecture if you need to ask me who I’ve just referenced. Check your history.)

Here’s Arturo proving that, oh, say, he can see, alright:

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