After a chat with Mark and Jeannine Sigafoos at last week’s William Traver Gallery artists’ reception, I felt inspired.  I would, I decided, take Sigafoos up on his invitation and blow glass.

The Tacoma Glassblowing Studio offers “The Glassblowing Experience” where you work through making a float or a paperweight with an instructor.  My guy was new employee Brian Farmer, who cut his glassblowing teeth at Wilson High, through the Hilltop Artists in Residence program.  Farmer also makes a darned impressive rose, a mesmerizing process to watch.

My own clumsy process was watched by a minor entourage, with Volcano intern extraordinaire Jessie Fouts shooting me as I fumbled through the making of my lavender, blue, and yellow float.  I have yet to see the finished product, as it needed to cool down in the 900 degree kiln after its creation in mostly 2000 degree kilns.

And did I mention, glassblowing is hot?  Not only the heat of the kilns â€" which are indeed warm â€" but there’s a decent amount of innuendo happening in the studio, with reference to “glory holes” and very phallic looking rods and wands at every turn.  And yeah, the rods do go into the glory holes.

While it was very cool to be walked through a simple piece, to feel the taffy-like consistency of the molten glass as I gathered the colors I chose, for me the fun was watching the others in the studio.  One family â€" it looked like mom, dad, grown daughter, younger brother, and grown daughter’s kid â€" were all involved in the process as they made lampshades to sell, renting studio time from Tacoma Glassblowing. 

As more of my entourage showed up (Angie Jossy showed up with her daughter, Jesse: by that point there was a whole lot of Jess going on in the studio) the young punk-rock looking son was lured over to us by the youthful heat of my group.  He mentioned that he’s been blowing glass with his family since early days, and I remarked, “how fun.”  He shrugged it off and said it was mostly work.  Because he was young and cool like that.

But the work is mesmerizing and exciting to watch, especially when you watch people who know what they’re doing. 

Then again, it’s awfully sweet to blow the hookah-like pipe and feel your glass expand into a delicate work, aware that at any moment you can completely screw it up, and lose your piece.
But with the help of Brian, I never did lose my piece.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go claim it now. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Photography by Jessie Fouts

If you blink you’ll miss “Stuff Happens,” a controversial history play held tonight at 7 p.m. and Sunday at 2 p.m. at the Lakewood Playhouse.

A minimalist black-box theater, which boasts a podium and folding chairs on the upper level, with steps and a very last-supper-esque banquet table on the level below, plays host to the cast of 12 reading the show, clothed in suits and ties.  The story that unfolds is of duplicitous diplomatic dealings and bumbling president never seen alone.

The president is none other than George W, opening all his staff meeting with the hands of his staff clasped in prayer, putting together a jigsaw puzzle with Laura, and tripping through a teleprompter-mistake with severe diplomatic repercussions.

Most surprising about this “staged reading”, written by Englishman David Hare, which takes a critical look at the events leading up to the United States’ declaration of War on Iraq, is that it’s being staged right now at the Lakewood Playhouse, sandwiched right in between two military installations, whose most recent show was the rave-reviewed "Seussical."

The whole play feels experimental, with its stripped-down staging and impromptu nature.  All the actors read from notebooks, which are often used as props.  Many of the actors play multiple parts, most notably Jamie Pederson, Aaron Heinzen, Charles Canada, Jack House, and Jim Patrick.  Cynthia Bette also reads for a plethora of personalities, effectively so, as Chad Russell directs, with stage management by Brie Yost and technical direction by Ali Criss. 

The play was originally performed in London in 2004 as an epic, 40-person cast piece, and then stripped down for Los Angeles’ Mark Taper Forum.

It was the latter that Russell was shooting for in his conception of the staging of the play, paring down the actors to 12, with only three weeks (and six rehearsals) to prepare for opening night.

This is the first in what Managing Artistic Director Marcus Walker hopes will be a series of plays done in a workshop style, “in between shows” that will take on edgier themes than the standard community theater fodder.

For this play, moments of acerbic British wit highlight a riveting text full of scene-by-scene conflict made more interesting by the playwright’s skillful manipulation of on-the-record statements with those conversations behind closed doors that can only be speculated. A post-show discussion with actors and audience provides further insight as to the play, events, point-of-view, and acting process: kind of like an "Inside the Actor’s Studio" without that goofy A&E host.

Admission is by donation ($10.00 recommended). â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

When adults go to the Tacoma Art Museum, they walk reverently, talk in hushed tones, and use their eyes as their primary art appreciating sense.

Not so with children.

Turns out, when kids look at art, they run from point to point, chatter non-stop, try to touch everything, and occasionally come up with a new viewpoint.

I wandered along with the r-year-olds from the North Tacoma Montessori Center as they took a look at "The Art of Eric Carle" exhibit before its last day Sunday, Jan. 21.

Leroy greeted us at the entry; the kids were excited to see such a huge dog made of paper. The difference between cardboard and paper didn’t mean much to them, they just liked the fact that a huge dog was at the museum.

Walking further, the kids saw Richard Rhodes’ “Untitled,” the huge exterior sculpture that’s part landscape, part seascape, part whatever-you-make-of-it.  One kid saw water, while another piped in, “It looks like a skate park!” 

Once in the Carle exhibit, the fingers started twitching to touch the art; I could sympathize because Carle’s art has that effect on me, too. 

In one particularly vibrant picture, a ship pitches on the water.  The teacher asked, “How does the water look? And a little voice piped in, “ugly?” While it’s true, in this picture, Carles’ typically cerulean blues were mixed and muddied, and it’s true that “ugly” can be an adjective used to describe bad weather.

The question was then rephrased. “Does the water look calm? Or rough?”  10 little voices piped in “rough,” in unison.

The highlight of the field trip was the video presentation of Carle making, and talking about, his art. Twenty eyes were riveted as 10 bodies sat still, listening in rapt attention to the author’s words.  When Carle finished the piece he was working on, he suggested that the title would be, “A very hungry caterpillar…and only one leaf left.”

A little boy’s sad throat emitted a plaintive, “oh…” and I have to admit, that was the sound of my feelings, that this beautiful and well put-together exhibition will be leaving us.

Still, we’ll have Kahlo to look forward to, among other cool stuff; visit the TAM website for details. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Seattle Children’s Theatre’s world premier of “Goodnight Moon,” a book that has delighted children drawn to the simplicity of bunnies and mice living together in a green room for 60 years looks, feels and sounds fabulous on stage. 

At first thought, most parents who have read this book to their children will wonder how one makes a play from a book that barely has any sense of a story.  “Goodnight Moon” is more a shout-out to a few friends, like the ending of a “Walton’s” episode, than something a playwright can hang a climax on.  But, not everyone is Chad Henry â€" one of Seattle’s greatest talents, who took the simplicity of “Goodnight Moon,” kept to its general themes and created a funny, musical, enriching show.

The set is a near photocopy of the book’s illustrations.  Expanded with 100 times the words, some fancy dance steps and fun songs, the show more than delights the children in the audience, it works for the parents as well. 

“Goodnight Moon” runs through March 10, Friday at 7 p.m. and Saturday and Sunday at 2 and 5:30 p.m., at Seattle Children’s Theatre, located at 201 Thomas St., at the Seattle Center.  Tickets are $16 to $32. â€" Ken Swarner

To most people, the holidays just mean another glorious day off work.  After all, who isn't desperate for extra secs in their day?  But what I've recently realized is that instead of sleeping in we should actually be celebrating the people who made our stupendous country what it is - free. 

So, we at the Weekly Volcano are serving you up a couple of activities sure to school you on why we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. 

Today the Washington State History Museum on Pacific Avenue will honor the late Dr. King through various exhibits and events. 

Through Tuesday, Jan. 16: the four-year traveling exhibit - "381 Days: The Montgomery Bus Boycott Story" - will exit the museum Tuesday.  Originating from the Smithsonian, the exhibit commemorates the 50th anniversary of Rosa Parks and her struggle for equality.  The exhibit brings to life the change that more than fifty thousand people brought upon the segregated bus system in Montgomery, Ala.  Looking at the photos, quotes, and historical texts, I could actually feel the energy of this movement.  It's inspiring seeing how so many diverse people stood and worked together as one.  I learned that during the bus boycott blacks with cars would take others to and from work, so they wouldn't have to take the bus, even if they didn't know them.  They called this the "private taxi."  Freedom wasn't given to them; they fought and got it for themselves.  I was struck by a black and white photo of a young African American boy warming his hands over a burning cross.  It shows how they were fazed by nothing.  They set out to achieve one goal and reached it.  Roberta Wright once wrote of the boycott, "It helped to launch a 10-year national struggle for freedom and justice, the Civil Rights Movement, that stimulated others to do the same at home and abroad."

Today: From 1 to 4:30 p.m. the Washington State History Museum will present Juanita Jones Abernathy.  Abernathy, an activist in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, will share her thoughts and memories of the time.  Then global artist Eddie Walker will create a mural commemorating the boycott and its creators.  Don't be scared to wear your painter's overalls, because he'll even let you help - with his instruction of course. 

There isn't an admission fee today.  Nice.â€" Julie Jordan

They’re a group of friends pulled together by their interest in creating eclectic fashions, and they decide to create together, and put on shows.  Eventually, the shows morph into multi-disciplinary entertainment events that drew crowds in some swank venues.

It might sound like something you’ve heard about locally, centering around the likes of groups like prime.all and the Loyalty Conglomerate.

But it’s not.  It’s Friends of the Rag, and it’s a group of locals who formed in 1972.

Indian Owen put together a talk about the group on Jan. 9 at the Tacoma Shool of the Arts, illustrated by some examples from her 5,000-slide collection that illustrated the history of the group.  Initially, they banded together to put on street-wear shows in the traditional fashion, charging money for entry to the shows, and even optimistically pricing the clothing, intending to sell it.

They were not just creative with the clothing, they were creative with the events, which had names (and themes matching the names) like “Dynamite Dud,s” “Hung at the Henry,” the “Prodigal Rag Returns,” “Roller Rags,” and “In A Somewhat Random Fashion.”

At about 1976, the group became more interested in the costuming side of wearable art, and the performance side of showing the art.  They did one show at Bumbershoot, “As the Rag Turns.”

“Space Western Hoedown in a Martian Fashion” marked another point at which the group was really more about the ensemble performance than the individual items of clothing.

But the individual items of clothing kept evolving creatively, as well.  In 1988, when the group put together “Night of the Living Thread,” Owen put together a trio of pieces notable for their amazing bead work-helmets, with tubing (and tusks) marking them as not-quite human.  Their names, “Planet Clair,” “Hullabaloo,” and “Shindig” further emphasize the nature of the pieces. These three pieces were joined by those of Owens’ friend Corky.  My favorite was “Olive Oil” with pimiento-tipped green pumps and a T-shirt that proclaimed “Extra Virgin.”  This piece was for the event, “Cheesy Nights and Saucy Women,” and was joined by “Spaghetti Western” and a circle-dress featuring pizza.

As the evening progressed, I couldn’t help but feel the whole interconnected, “full circle” vibe.  These indie designers had done, 20-plus years ago, something vital, and fun, and not at all unlike what our talented and indie Tacoma designers are doing now.

That made me happy.

What made me kind of sad, was that those who most emulate the creative spirit of the Friends of the Rag weren’t present. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Tonight at 8 p.m., artist Indian Owen will present some wearable art in the “Journey of Friends of the Rag” event being shown at the Tacoma School of the Arts Theatre. Co-sponsored by Northwest Designer Craftsmen and the Tacoma School of the Arts Theatre, the evening will feature Owen explaining, through slides, the creation of the Northwest-based, nationally-known group in 1972, and how they have evolved.

While at face value, a slide show about wearable art may seem tame, Lynn Di Nino sheds some light on the true nature of the Rags background. 

“In those days â€" '70s â€" things were much less conservative,” says Di Nino.

She suggests that the audience might be amazed by what they see, thinking, “I can’t believe they got away with that!”

She adds, “It will probably be completely inspiring to see something from that long ago hold up as entertainment.”

The event is free, and Owen will begin her talk at 8 p.m.

Be there or be naked. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Outside threatening storms painted the skies gray above my view of Commencement Bay.  Fighting the mother of all colds, I was feeling decidedly gray and stormy, myself, until I hit the Antique Sandwich Company.  I now believe in the restorative powers of a pot of Plum Passion Tea and great live classical music.

Franko Fontaine and David Hirst, along with the Antique, presented a talented group of five educators (mostly musical) called the King Street Quintet â€" on flute was Anne Carpenter, Ken Brown played Oboe, Ruben Watson played the oboe’s cousin the clarinet, David Cripe played the woodwind grand-daddy bassoon, while Tracy Cripe rounded out the quintet on French Horn.  David Cripe also played a piano for the “Serenade for Flute, Horn and Piano,” and introduced quite a few of the pieces, a task shared with Brown and Watson.

Opening with “Three Shanties,” the quintet reined in the crowd; the Mozart “Quintet in E Flat” put me in a place next to Heaven, while the “Serenade for Flute, Horn and Piano made both my mother in law and me sigh in pleasure, “ahhh, that’s nice.”

Glancing around the crowd, I noted young and old, readers, thinkers, sketchers, and one guy who was either listening intently or falling asleep.

After the intermission, Saint-Saens’ Carnival of the Animals (with accompanying narration by fabulously top-hatted and boa-ed Christianson Elementary librarian Danielle Eller, reading Ogden Nash,) captivated many of the kids young and old.  The exception was my own child, who’d grown music weary by this point, and dragged off her grandma, leaving me to enjoy a large hunk of afternoon in peace, with lovely music, and the remains of a pot of tea.  Really, it was my kid’s loss, as the “Tortoises” movement of the carnival included a hilariously slowed down version of the Can-Can, and the finale if the Carnival was none other than the song played in Fantasia 2000, as flamingoes played with yo-yos.  I had to close my eyes and giggle, remembering the film, and revel in the fact that only five musicians were able to fill the space with the breadth of sound that a symphony of musicians created for the Disney film.

The Klughardt piece “Quintet, Op. 79” daunted me, in title and historical time frame; I’m generally accustomed to being irritated by music from the latter part of the 19th century. I like Bach, Handel, Mozart, and their ilk, and I’ve always felt that the grandiose symphonic stuff following those composers has always been sort of large-scale pompous.

When Cripe introduced the Klughardt piece as being “romantic” in the Wagnerian-symphonic sense, I felt this sense of imminent dread.  As it turned out, the piece rocked my world.  It contained the first Andante grazioso I’ve ever found really interesting at first listen-through (Andantes are typically the moderately slow movements filled with emotion; I’m a cold-fish classical music listener, I’m afraid) and the final movement’s Adagio-Allegro molto vivace lived up to it’s descriptive name and had me delighting in rapid-fire, staccato notes peppered throughout the piece. 

The quintet ended on a flapper-esque jazz piece, “You Cannot Shake That “Shimmie” Here."  The extremely patient, polite and adorable young (very young!) man at the table next to mine did shake his bear’s “Shimmie” while Watson’s clarinet wailed and the rhythms of a Jazz era overtook the space, ending on an informally up note.

The intimacy and informality of the Antique served as the perfect classical music backdrop with freedom to nibble, sip, read, and draw, the accessibility of a sometimes intimidating musical form was enhanced.

I studied violin and viola for eight years, and have enjoyed classical music for many more than that.  I thought that I knew what I liked, and what I didn’t.  Today at the Antique, my perceptions were altered, and in the process, I had a simultaneously relaxing and invigorating afternoon.  The Classical Sundays will run through April 1 at 3 p.m., and will include everything from music students and their teachers to guitar, piano, strings, and voice, and many combinations of the aforementioned.  Open contribution is recommended, and the boho ambience and stress reduction services are free. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler

Tacoma's arts scene is so off the chain that we recently scored our own glossy magazine dedicated to covering it. City Arts, a bi-monthly brought to us by Encore Media Group out of Seattle, is a free mag that you'll want to pick up at museums, galleries, restaurants and businesses right away, especially now. The January-February edition features two hot guys that you may have been dying to sneak a peek at: Your very own Ken and Ron Swarner, the publishers of the Weekly Volcano, the Fort Lewis Ranger and the McChord Airlifter.

In the full-page profile pic, Ron is rockin' some wind storm hair, and his shirt is indeed unbuttoned. Ken sports a business jacket. Both of their eyes sparkle.

Sure, City Arts inadvertently reversed the roles â€" Ron is the editor of the Volcano, and Ken is the editor of the Ranger and Airlifter â€" but we love City Arts all the same, for the recognition, the shout out, and the common love and passion we share for everything art related.  In the current issue Jen Graves breaks down the downtown Tacoma revival, and Claire Levine previews our favorite bluegrass weekend, Wintergrass.

Ken and Ron are so proud that they're walking around like they own this freakin' joint. Oh wait, they do. â€" Natasha

It's always news when a new play comes to town. Here's a very new play, in fact, the South Sound performance is a world-premiere production. "What Is this Thing Called Love?" is a new musical revue arranged by Emmy-nominated and South Sound theater giant (as well as all around nice guy) David Duvall that opens Jan. 5 at Tacoma Little Theatre. The show features the music of Cole Porter, after Duvall obtained the rights to use the works directly from the Cole Porter Music and Literary Property Trusts.

"No composer has ever written more eloquently or effusively on the subject of love than Porter," Duvall says. "He knew all too well the many dimensions of this basic of human emotions, and captured different aspects of it in ever love song that he composed. This show that I have compiled examines Cole's examination of the different facets of human love, which he never saw as a simple subject." â€" Steve Dunkelberger